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ivoryratdoggerythethird · 3 months

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hot take (? maybe? i don't fully know what the general stance is on this) but i don't think chuuya would've left the mafia with dazai

not because their bond is shallow (sike, fyodor) but because i think chuuya found his grip in the mafia by the time the dark era rolls around. he entered the mafia because of dazai yeah but they both have lives outside of each other still. after everything that happens in fifteen, koyou being in the mafia, and also just chuuya's unwavering loyalty - which he swore to mori, however unfortunately but it's still the truth - i think he would've let dazai go alone.

but there's that other thing though; his bond with dazai. his very significant bond with dazai. that's why i think he would've let dazai go; as long as dazai isn't leaving because of something he did, or plotting to like, burn the mafia down, i don't think he would've been particularly bothered beyond the 'dealing with traitors' business but honestly lets be real if you're important enough in the mafia, being a traitor or threat or enemy means jackshit (tachihara, verlaine, chuuya, even dazai is literally invited back by mori lmao).

i can see chuuya just tsk-ing and waving him off like "you probably have an escape route planned so i'm not even gonna bother pursuing you, won't give you the satisfaction of dying quickly either, you do you bastard, imma go celebrate with wine now, don't die i'm still gonna kill you someday, see ya." or like. you know. some rough approximation of that.

i think if dazai actually told him, considering what i know of his character thus far, chuuya would've helped him leave or, at least, rolled his eyes and looked the other way and do essentially a scripted song and dance of hunting him down with everyone, including mori, knowing full well that a) dazai won't be found unless he doesn't want to be, and b) the only person remotely capable of finding him would just punch him in the face then let him go again

skk would probably just keep up their usual bickering nonsense via randomly breaking into each others places (i.e. dazai because he's now broke and chuuya exclusively breathes designer air) and even if they don't interact for long periods, they would easily slide back into their dynamics whenever they do, as it is in canon except they'd likely manage to be even more in-tune and annoying with each other.

(also the ADA would know about the mysterious rich redhead whose number is listed as "dazai's dog" to call up when dazai is up to his shenanigans so he can come over and kick discipline into him. guessing who the hell he is another one of their mysteries and they know it ties in with dazai's old job, just not how. ranpo cackles everytime he shows up. he and kunikida meet up for lunch to bitch about dazai.)

tl;dr, imo skk could've been skk for the missing four years with chuuya still being an executive and dazai stiill being a detective if only mister cyclops there chose communication over blowing a car up, because i do believe chuuya would've let everything play out the same as in canon except he and dazai wouldn't be cut off the whole time

#first bsd post waw and it's absurdly long as usual #my post #the sigma show #soukoku #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #i fully respect and love the “skk pack up their shit and fuck off to the agency together flipping mori off over their shoulders” but #from what i know about stormbringer as well (which i will read soom hopefully even though i've been spoiled to hell)#chuuya suffered so much and finally found a place for himself in the mafia #even when verlaine tried to take him away and all the friends he lost #feels sort of like a “what was it all for if he just leaves?” kinda deal #maybe my opinion will change if i read stormbringer myself idk maybe he fr doesn't want to be in the mafia #we shall see i suppose #i think he'd rather keep the respect he earned in the mafia and stay loyal to his boss #but also loyal to his partner; just not as obviously #they're double black they'd make it work #ANYWYAY i just love chuuya and want him to be happy #with his fancy wine and clothes and relationship with both koyou and his mackerel

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enkas-illusion · 3 months

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Double Trouble

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: SFW

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, suggestive, no smut, language.

Summary: Boyfriend!Satoru with a twin and they're exact copies of each other, down to their mannerism so they often switch places just to test how long it takes for you to figure out you're talking to the other one.

Author's Note: The one where he isn’t the only Honoured one. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading!

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Say Yes by Loco, Punch

Satoru Gojo was everything you could've asked for in a partner. He was kind, funny, intelligent, sexy, and had better emotional maturity than most men despite being somewhat of a nihilist in his own way – perfect was the word to describe him.

The only problem was that he was a bit too much to handle at times, or dare one say, a bit *too many, – meaning his mother gave birth to him and thought ‘he's perfect!’ so she popped another xerox copy 2 minutes later.

And thus were born Satoru and Soichiro, the most identical twins in the history of twins. The two not only shared the same face but had gained quite some notoriety among friends and family for sharing the same brain cell as well.

While you had no reason to complain about their flawless personalities, they'd taken a liking to mess with you each time they got together. One would think they'd go easy with the pranks if it's someone they love, right? Wrong! It meant the shit you had to endure was way worse than any other normal friend would have to.

On one such instance, Soichiro tagged along with Satoru after work and it wasn't until halfway through dinner that your instinct went off and you figured out it was the twin who was sitting next to you instead of your boyfriend as usual. Later that night, you'd warned Satoru about it, presenting a solid argument even he couldn't resist.

“You know I almost grabbed his thigh under the table tonight!”

“No, you didn't,” Satoru scoffed.

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s highly likely that I could've! Ummm… what if one day you return home and I greet you in some skimpy lingerie but instead of you, it’s your brother who sees me, all titties out???” You were grasping at straws really.

“Will you do that!?” His ears perked up.

“Not the point, Toru…”

“Hmm… okay fine, I won't let it get that far,” he assured you.

“But you'll still continue to tease me?” You huffed and he nodded his head, smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him, complaining about how he was the ‘worst’ while he simply gave you a bear hug and a few kisses to make it up to you.

~~~

So, even after being with Satoru for more than a year, you still did not know how to distinguish between the two. The only people to do so in a split-second were his parents. You had once sat the twins down to compare their faces for any tiny details you might’ve missed but you came up short regardless.

You could only tell the difference by instinct, after having a conversation with them – maybe you were more delusional than you'd like to admit but to you, Satoru's voice held a lot of love each time he called your name.

In an attempt to distinguish the two, you thought you'd successfully managed to get Satoru to dye his hair black with temporary colour last time you went to their family house, only to find out Soichiro had done the same and was waiting for you, waving his arm at you in the driveway with a victorious grin.

So when you don't find the twin greeting you like a devil inviting you to hell this time, you turn to your boyfriend who's undoing his seatbelt.

“Listen to me, Satoru,” you grab his collar to turn him to look at you as you speak in a serious tone, “Please don't fuck with me this time. One of these days, I might really embarrass myself due to your games.”

“I'm betting on it baby,” he grins as he gives you a quick peck before swiftly making his way out of the car to avoid your scolding. You were going to stay at his parents’ country house for a weekend and you could already tell it was going to be a long weekend.

You sigh as you grab your bag and he opens the door for you before pulling the bag out of your hand and holding his hand out for you. It's impossible to be annoyed at Satoru for long when he pulls shit like this.

When you enter the house, Satoru excuses himself to find his father and you make your way to the backyard garden where you guess his mother might be. You smile to yourself when your guess is right.

“How can I help?” You smile, making his mother turn to look at you. She gently puts the shovel down next to the plants she's depotting.

“Hello dear, you've arrived just in time… would you mind bringing the remaining pots? They’re near the window in the reading room,” she instructs and you nod as you make your way back inside.

You walk the long corridor before you reach your destination, making your way to the window where the pots were placed. You lift two in each hand, holding them with care, trying not to drop them or stain your t-shirt.

“Need some help?” you hear a voice and turn around to see the other twin at the door. The only reason you can tell it's Soichiro is because he's wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants as opposed to your boyfriend who was wearing a purple hoodie and coal grey pants.

“Hey Sochi, could you pick the last one?” You motion your head in the direction of the last pot, “Gotta move it to the garden.”

He nods before picking up the pot and walking with you, back to the backyard garden.

“Did you arrive before us? I didn't see your car in the driveway,” you make conversation along the way.

“My car's out for servicing. I arrived with the mothership yesterday when she was in town shopping,” he explains.

“Hmm…” you nod as you stop near the area where the soil has been rooted out of the ground, “here.”

You motion to him to keep the pot down and he obeys as he leans down to place them there gently. You're busy looking around to find Mrs. Gojo when you hear him speak, “Anything else, princes–”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps back to look at him.

“SATORU!” you gasp at the nickname that accidentally slips out of your boyfriend's name, making you realise it's not his twin.

“Soichiro! Leave my poor girl alone,” the other blondie walks out wearing the exact same clothes. You look between the two as you stare in disbelief, not being able to tell who's who.

You're about to speak when you hear their mom's voice as she moves closer to you, pressing an arm gently around your shoulder, “Satoru… I'd expect you of all people to be nice to her,” shaking her head at the twin standing next to you.

You were right! The twin next to you is Satoru!

“No, it's okay! The best way to deal with them is to avoid both of them the entire weekend,” you give your boyfriend the fakest smile you can muster up as you walk hand in hand with his mother to fulfil your gardening duties.

As it's the only exact identical matching outfit the twins have, they don't mind wearing it all weekend. As the day progresses, you find yourself working your brain full time to notice any difference you can find, but the guys are relentless to the point where even their sleeves are rolled to the exact same length.

And of course, the whole day is spent the way you’d dreaded and almost predicted it’d be like. Later when you’re out on the porch having coffee and watching the sunset with your boyfriend, you notice Satoru has an insect bite on the side of his wrist.

“Toru?” you question, wanting to make sure you have the right twin next to you.

“Hmm?” he peels his eyes away from the pretty sunset to look at you.

“Kiss me?” you ask softly.

“Wha– is this a test?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You know what, nevermind… I just felt like it cause this is the first time we’ve been alone all d–” your words are cut off by his lips capturing yours. You smile into the kiss as Satoru cups your face, caressing your cheek.

Satoru check completed! You make a mental note to observe his wrist for the mark each time you interact with the twins.

After dinner when everyone's lazing around in the living room and watching whatever reality tv show is playing in the background, you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Roaming around, you end up in Satoru's old bedroom. It's endearing seeing how you can still find pieces of his current personality, likes, hobbies and interests in bits, plastered everywhere around his room.

You find yourself craving some alone time with your boyfriend all of a sudden so you pull your phone out to text him to come up to his room. You only have to wait a few minutes before you hear a knock on the door.

“It's open,” you say as you place the book that you were holding back on the shelf. With a big grin, you extend your arm out to him and he takes it.

“Hello, darling,” he says in a playful tone and your eyes briefly glance at his wrist. No mark. It's Soichiro. He pulls you into a hug and pats your head.

Fine. If your boyfriend still wants to mess with you even when you’re needy for him, he's gonna get his payback. You decide at that moment – this switcharoo bullshit stops today.

You smile innocently at Soichiro as you pull away, your hands travel up to his chest to push him back till he falls on the bed.

You hop on top of him to straddle him but are careful enough to not actually make any sort of inappropriate contact, hovering above without closing the gap between your bodies. You simply wanted to push him enough to get him uncomfortable and to confess.

You can see the nervousness on his face as he clears his throat to come up with an excuse to get out of this situation without making it awkward, “T-the door’s open, let me–”

“It’s just us Toru… I doubt anyone’s gonna bother coming up to find us anyway,” you purr as you lean your body forward, placing your palms on the sides of his head to support your weight. You start feeling anxious too, you need him to break soon or you’d have to abandon the act, so you persist and whisper in his ear, “You look so sexy, I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me all day, Satoru.”

You cringe internally at your own words. But in that moment, you can see his face get paler than it usually is and you want to laugh at how nervous he looks when he hits his limit at your lewd comments.

“Wait, I’m no–” Soichiro pushes you by the shoulders as he begins in panic, another voice interrupts, pushing the half-open door forcefully, “Baby, wait!”

You feel a large arm hook around your waist to pull you away. As you stumble to your feet, breaking free from his hold, you turn around to see an annoyed Satoru, knitting his eyebrows as he looks at you. He looks more annoyed at himself than at you.

“Satoru?” you question as you bring up a hand to his cheek.

“Yes, baby?” he asks in that loving tone you’re so used to as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

You smile as you caress his cheek, trying hard to hold in your laughter, “What… A… Dumbass!”

You burst out laughing as you break free from his embrace and he stares at you in disbelief. You look from him to Soichiro, who’s already stood up from the bed as you hold your stomach, hurting from laughing so much, “That should teach you both!”

“Well then, I’m gonna go watch tv with the only two sensible people in this house,” you wave the baffled twins goodbye and turn around to leave the room. The very next second, you’re taken by surprise when you feel a hand grab your wrist to keep you from moving.

You turn around to see that your boyfriend seems… mad at you?

“Sochi, do you mind? I wanna talk to her alone,” Satoru motions his brother to leave the room.

“Yikes, just keep it quiet,” the twin chuckles in embarrassment as he walks out hastily. You hear the door close behind you before footsteps recede down the hallway.

You look at Satoru, expecting him to speak up. But your boyfriend simply grabs both of your wrists before twisting them behind your back and closes the distance between your bodies.

“Waitttt… is this Toru or Sochi? It is impossible to tell!” your words are dry and sarcastic as you giggle at him.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re in a position to be laughing at me right now,” he towers over you, his grip on your waists tightening.

“But here we are! I told you not to mess with me,” you chuckle as you try to wriggle your wrists out of his grip.

“And I’ve warned you not to press my buttons… or do I need to remind you again?” he grunts as he flips you around, walking you to the bed till your knees hit the edge of the bed, making you stumble on the mattress with him behind you. He brings a hand to the back of your head to press your face down into the mattress and you take this opportunity to try to hold him. He tsks at your movement before moving away from your completely.

You flip your body around to lie on your back and see what’s going on, only to find him rummaging through his closet. When Satoru turns around to walk back towards the bed, you notice two ties in his hands.

This isn’t how you’d expected your little prank to turn out but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, just as Satoru straddles you, grabbing your wrists, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“What?” he groans into the speaker.

“Mum’s calling you both downstairs,” you hear Soichiro’s voice on the other end.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing as Satoru groans once again before cutting the call with a ‘be right there’.

“I think god sent a guardian angel disguised as your mom for me,” you chuckle as you sit up, making your way out from under him.

“You’re lucky,” Satoru grabs your jaw, “but don’t get ahead of yourself, guardian angel can't save you past her bedtime.”

You poke your tongue out to tease him, breaking free and springing out of the bed, mumbling a ‘whatever’, walking out towards the living room.

As you make your way back down the hall, you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you. You smile to yourself as you begin to brew different ideas of riling him up further throughout the night.

~fin~

#jjk x you #erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jujutsukaisen x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo

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cooki3face · 3 months

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what’s going on in your friendships

message: friendships and close personal relationships have been a significant thing in my life as of late. I have the tendency to self-isolate in order to remain untriggered because I can't control my environment the way I wish I could when other energies are involved. I've never been super outgoing or social, I enjoy conversation but on my own terms and I'm highly selective about the company I keep and how I choose to share my energy with the world. But, you have to be a whole other level of healed in order to remain energetically grounded where your circumstances or environment are eating away at you. When I have close personal relationships they consume me because I am always so heavily devoted or emotionally involved and so they have the capacity to disarm me or put me in hard places when things go wrong or when something is triggering. I've decided to do this reading in order to give the collective insight on what's going on in their friendships and hopefully give some guidance on what needs to be improved or worked on. Enjoy.

There's an energy here about either you or people you were friends with or are friends with carrying the energy of past resentment. In your energy there's an energy of friendship(s) being a touchy subject or something that you've separated yourself from entirely due to bad situations or experiences. In other energies outside of yours, there could be someone or even a few people who hold ill energy towards you or have negative perceptions of you based on a falling out or you outgrowing them. There's energy of betrayal or someone revealing themselves to you or double-crossing you and you having to turn inwards or go into hermit mode in order to recover and swearing off friendships or become more opposed or narrowing your scope for what is acceptable in your friendships. Someone had high expectations already but they're even higher now. I'm listening to the song "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse. She says in the song, "I've died 100 times." someone has been burned a lot or has a very extensive painful history in close relationships both platonic and romantic that require trust and respect to be equal and held at high regard.

Someone had a friend who was troubled or had a tendency to mess things up for themselves or be deceptive or throw stones and hide their hands I'm hearing. Pile one you may have developed a thing for the underdog or in the past had a subconscious pull to people who had heavy trauma-filled backgrounds or carried with them a lot of karmic energy or karmic behaviors and cycles. This may have been a theme for the vast majority of your close personal relationships for the past couple of years. You constantly ran into people who didn't value themselves and therefore didn't know your value and people who would always have an internal tendency to not know what they'd lost until you'd walked away from them. You may have had to make a difficult decision here that resulted in you letting go of several friends and/ or lovers or significant people in your life that you carried on your back for the past couple of years. You learn lessons primarily through people and relationships and you eventually outgrew or broke out of karmic cycles and behaviors and you had to decide whether or not you wanted a new beginning or not.

You may currently feel a lot of grief or be in the process of mourning past versions of yourself or past versions of your life and the people who were in it although you're done with them now. There's healing that needs to be addressed regarding betrayal and heartbreak regarding your friendships and relationships. Right now you are in a state of recovery here, I'm seeing imagery of someone in a deep sleep or in a comatose like state like sleeping beauty or something, the body has the ability to heal or recover faster through sleep, you may feel somewhat unresponsive towards people coming towards you seeking friendships or companionship.

You're deciding what it is you want in a friendship and doing what you can possible to come into alignment with what that looks like, you've essentially had to start from scratch or build your life and yourself up again from the ground up. You have nothing left from the life you used to live. You've had to and are in the process of manifesting everything that you desire. You are no longer in a state of your life or on the chronological divine timeline where you are having to live with the cards you are dealt and make the best of it or learn the right lessons for what you are given. You have essentially aged out of and graduated out of the divine's guardianship over you as a spiritual minor. Now it's your choice what it is you get to have, what you get to make, what you wanna see, what you wanna put up with, and with whom.

II.

You could feel called to power through and carry on even though you could be experiencing or have experienced significant hardship in your friendships. You may have a tendency to suppress your emotions regarding loss or you have remained in survival mode for years at a time so much so you may be someone who is always in autopilot or doesn't stop too often to process loss in full even if you're a heavily emotionally driven individual who needs time for recovery and needs time to heal so that you can thrive. I just heard someone's a water sign but operates like an earth sign to keep up appearances or maintain a hard exterior or escape the symptoms that come with heartbreak or grief. like if you can imagine the spectral difference between Cancer and Capricorn as a moon sign placement. You may carry a mindset that the entire world has always been against you or that you're not a particularly popular individual wherever it is you reside.

People may make up stories about you, spread rumors, some people fear you heavily while on the other side of the spectrum others may believe you're a coward or deserve to be mistreated or beat down as much as possible. People don't know who you are or know your heart due to some circumstances that were outside of your control and some that were. By the time you'd established or came to terms with the fact that you wanted to be around others, felt isolated, or felt scared and mistreated it was too late because people already had such large negative perspectives and opinions about you. I just heard "you think I want to be like this?" someone has been alienated or is treated like an abomination or as though they are unacceptable. You may also find you have a hard time networking or accessing opportunities you feel you'd have rights to if not for your reputation, not even just work opportunities, social ones as well, people don't want to be around you or people have a tendency to reject you or you feel you aren't able to reach people you love fully due to a lack of self worth or a skewed perception of yourself.

You've lost hope of profound connection within your friendships (you could've had a close friend before that you held onto past a healthy point or even throughout their betrayal or mistreatment of you due to the fact that you felt like if you released them you'd face eternal loneliness. I'm hearing this person could've exploited you for your resources or used you or subjected you to some sort of abuse repeatedly and you didn't/couldn't hold them accountable only the two of you know about this or people know but it's not a well spread secret. I'm hearing this person could've also potentially r*ped, s*xually assaulted you or used you to experiment or fill the void of their own loneliness and desperation.) You could've also potentially lost a romantic connection or loss hope in prospect of love as well or you may have convinced yourself you'll end up unmarried or in short term surface level relationships for the rest of your life.

You could have this large tendency to be so resistant of change whether it's for the best or not or whether it's gonna be in your best interest or not and this has worked against you. You have wounds that have been left open and are gaping because you refuse to stop and get help or allow yourself to heal and recover. You have things that need to be said that won't ever be at your own hand. You won't allow yourself to have anything because other people decided you shouldn't have anything. You could be so happy and so free of spiritual and emotional burden if you would just allow yourself to heal and do the inner work. Return to any avenues and paths you've left unpaved or any loose ends you've left untied and clean up things in order to free yourself. You may have to come to terms with the fact that not everything can be mended, reconciled, or redelivered back to you in the way you want or within the time frame you desire though pile two. You aren't the only person on the planet contrary to your beliefs, the people who were on it with you who you shared your energy with or who you shared your energy with have their own reservations, their own stories or versions of what happened whether they are truthful or not.

III.

You have an unnatural allegiance to losers and it's unlike you. You may have a tendency to make friends or make connections out of necessity or out of fear of loneliness. You are what you attract, you may have a tendency to constantly fall back into karmic cycles or run around in circles in terms of life lessons. you're someone who takes a long time to learn things you need to learn. You could be an air sign or a water sign. You have the tendency to take a lot of short cuts or do things to try and make yourself have an easier time assimilating or blending in after years of rejection from personal places or have people and places that large significance in your life or things you spent a lot of time around, peers at school, parents, siblings, family. You can also have a tendency to be impressionable you might have picked up a lot of nasty habits or behavioral patterns or karmic ties due to the type of people you choose to be around and attract. There's something here about your spirit being young or you being someone who has a tendency to act out or has a difficult time making their own decisions including responsible ones or doing what's best for you when it needs to be done.

You have a parent or parents who play a huge role in the way you process situations and carry yourself in general. You weren't taught or raised up to be an adult or aren't/weren't offered the proper tools to build a sense of self that was adequate for someone who needed to navigate in this world. I just heard the words "hurt people hurt people" you may have the tendency to self destruct and in turn be destructive to others. You carry with you either a lot of guilt or on the far end of the spectrum a large lack of accountability and willing ignorance about the part you played in conflicts or how your actions may have effected someone or a situation. You're constantly feeling very stagnant, burnt out, drained or low on energy and a lot of this is reflective of some of your choices, your choices in company, your behavioral patterns, karmic cycles and even potentially addictions if you've picked up any vices that you should've stayed far away from.

You may be in a place in your relationships where you're at a crossroads about if you should trust your intuition and the divines organization of change and chaos and move forward or do the right thing and allow yourself to fully outgrow and separate from people, things, places, etc. you've carried with you or collected along the way for fear of loss. Behaviors and karmic cycles and habits as well. I say relationships instead of just friendships because you have a tendency to make bad decisions in both your romantic and platonic relationships and connections and your karma is coming at you from both ends. There's fear here though regarding letting go. The deeper issue or root cause of this need to collect things comes from fear of abandonment, being disliked or perceived negatively or not being able to control the feeling you may feel about not having anyone to fall back onto/into.

You could've lost a friend or a person of value that you pushed away or that woke up to something or had some sort of truth revealed to them about you and actions you may have had a habit of committing to behind their back in regards to them. This person won't reconcile with you or you know that anyone of value that you lost along the way or anyone who may bring you solace has walked away. But, spirit has set your revelation or your healing process or tower moment up this way for you so that you have the chance to fully and wholeheartedly see what is going on or what needs to be done. I just heard "you're so far removed from source." The only way out is through and there might be a lot of grief that you may have to receive or make your way through before you can come out the other end changed and in alignment with what needs to be done or what's in store for you. You need to heal or come back into alignment. I'm getting imagery of someone detoxing or withdrawal from drugs or alcohol. this could be something you may have to actually experience or a figurative representation of what the process of healing and recuperation may look like for you because there is a lot that needs to be purged.

But, after all of this, if you do the inner work, there is promised stability and alignment for you.

channeled song for this reading:

#self love #self care #self improvement #self discovery #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine #what’s going in your friendships #messages from spirit #pac #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarot #tarot card readings

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glory-asme · 7 days

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Double Black (BSD)

I was thinking, right?

Kyouka needs a rival (not narratively, just for fun). Like, there's Chuuya & Dazai and Akutagawa & Atsushi, it's basically family tradition at that point.

Kyouka already has dark hair and a stoic personality, so basically she just needed her bright haired rival/partner with a too powerful ability that they sometimes lose control of. And then I was like. Kenji's right there.

They're not rivals per se, but it fits the dynamics going on here. Imagine Demon Snow and Undefeated By the Rain working together. They'd be scary af, and they don't have the weird tension between them that SKK and SSKK have, so they'd grow more powerful together far quicker and exceed their predecessors.

Honestly, I'm a sucker for Kenji and Kyouka interactions.

(Bonus for the family tradition, Gin's partner could be Tachihara or Higuchi but honestly I feel Tachihara works better. Not sure about losing control of his ability but it's not like Higuchi has one to begin with lmao)

P.S. I know Mori & Fukuzawa were the OG double black or whatever, but I couldn't make an argument for Fukuzawa losing control over his ability.

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twiststreet · 9 months

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Remember a long time ago, when you'd go to websites and they'd do all this weird design shit going on, like make you walk through a black and white haunted duplex before watching a movie trailer for Spike Lee's Bamboozled or whatever the hell. Like... Flash websites? Or just weird promo websites with "Easter Eggs"-- I want to say the Matrix had one for the sequels...

I just googled Cool Websites and it recommended Reddit (no!) and the Oatmeal (double no!) and Giphy (????).

I don't know how to find that kind of website anymore. Even artist sites-- why do artists sites all look the same??? They're supposed to be artists. White background, the word "Works" in a tasteful font off to the side or in some kind of menu up top, that thing when you scroll down where the word "rutabaga" scrolls up onto the middle of the screen in a sort of misery-grey box. Everything seems so off the shelf now.

There must still be people mucking about out there, right? What do you google to find those people... I googled "how to find gnarly websites" and it tried to sell me ski caps. I get that the people who made those sites are in their 40's and 50's now-- I get being tired; I'm having the worst two weeks I've had all year, hahaha! But ... do young people just not find the internet that interesting, I guess...?

I thought it was interesting. A bunch of people connecting through wires and whatever the hell a "wifi" is. I don't know. I kinda thought it was interesting.

#i am pointless!#i kinda spent a minute trying to have fun on the internet #i hope people are still having fun

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iceman-soup · 3 months

Note

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

#thank you for the request!!!#i feel like in general their first leave together would be a little awkward #ghost wouldnt really know how he's supposed to act with a guest in his flat #but the guest is soap so everything's all good #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod fluff #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #autistic simon ghost riley

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snek-panini · 16 days

Text

The last of my Binderary books, #10 and #11, are here! This is The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh and D20Owlbear and it is another very long fic that I had to split into two volumes. It's a wonderful Good Omens human!AU with believable relationship development and very likeable OCs. I like to go into summaries at this point in my binding posts but I have trouble pinpointing the reason I like this one so much. It's just compelling and I like spending time with these characters. It reads like an original story and yet it's undeniably a GO fic. I don't know how else to phrase it.

I had a major disappointment with the bind, though. As you can no doubt see in the photos above, there was major glue leakage when I did the htv and it ruined my book cloth. That's a homemade paper-backed cloth and it's this wonderful textured green fabric (I think it's polyester but it's shiny and lightweight) but it did not like that silver foil htv At All. Really sad that it turned out like that. The silver leaves were also an absolute nightmare to weed. So many teeny tiny pieces, and I had to do four of them. I stand by the design, it's very pretty and I still think it fits the book, but I have got to find another option for putting titles on homemade cloth. I've done five of them now and I have this issue every time.

More photos under the cut! It is still a very pretty set, even with the cover issues.

You can see the fabric texture really well on the backs, and there's no glue issue there either. Part of me wishes I'd left the front covers blank like the backs. I love how the spines turned out; that's black faux leather and it always takes htv like a champ. I like how I did the titles here too. I really wanted them on the spines but it's such a long title that I'd have had to scrunch it down really small to make it fit. Weeding tiny text is always a pain and it limits the fonts you can use and still be legible, but splitting it up like this? Love it. Looks so good on my shelf.

Silver foiled edges! I had trouble getting the foil to stick, like always, but I ended up sort of layering it over the unstuck parts and got this kind of patchy look that I love. Handmade double core endbands, and this is one of the most complex patterns I've done in endbands so far. I love them and think they came out really beautiful.

The endpapers are this beautiful chiyogami leaf pattern. I bought these for this fic before I'd even started typesetting it because I knew they'd be perfect. Chiyogami is my favorite thing to use for endpapers lately, I love it so much.

I went really simple on the typeset here. It's a contemporary story, as opposed to a lot of the historical and fantastical ones I tend to bind, and I thought the sleek typeset suited it. I'm not as in love with the title page as I could be but I do like it. It's about the text, not the flourishes, once you get into the meat of the story.

One fun typesetting thing I was able to do with this one happened in the headers and footers. Usually I do page numbers at the bottom, author's name on the top left and title on the top right, but the combination of two authors and a really long title meant the headers got really unwieldy. They were too long and bled into the body text. So I split them up like this, and I love it! Looks so sleek. I've been looking for an excuse to do it like this again on other typesets but it hasn't fit anything yet.

And that's that! I asked for author permission for these but never heard back, so I hope they're both ok with what I did. I'm overall pleased with the results (and in love with parts of it) and I know what I still need to work on.

This is the last of my Binderary books! 11 is too many! I'm never doing that many books in a month again! Now I've got everything posted I feel like I can move on to new projects, though it may be a bit before I have any new books to post. I've got a format experiment in mind.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #at last all the binderary books are posted #it took longer to post them than it did to make them #i will not have any more new books for at least a couple of months #honestly these have flaws but I don't love them any less for it #they're beautiful and i think i did a good job #and the fabric has such a nice texture #good for holding

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inkblot-inc · 7 months

Text

A Simple Meet-Cute

Summary: A slow night at your job picks up with the presence of a certain woman in red, this meeting also serves as the precedent for your life-course to shift...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): Dark Themes; there's no smut in this one, but this is an 18+ AU aka MINORS DNI. To start we got depictions of breaking bones (not in depth, but it’s there, suggestion of murder, mention of mutant trafficking (did I really go back there again? Yeah, but this time with a dash of discrimination toward mutants), let’s see… language and general violence, cuz hey, you know what I get up to...kinda-

Note(s): This timeline-wise is way before "The Bigger Picture". I figure after I had my medias res moment, I wanted to go ahead double back to show how Wanda and R met. Were they done around the same time? Yes….And your point? I'll also go ahead and say that they're both a part of the Scarlet Syndicate AU. The masterlist should be up pretty soon, and I hope you enjoy this one :3

Word Count: in the realm of 1.8k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man’s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.

#marvel #marvel one shots #a simple meet-cute #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #???wanda maximoff #hyena!mutant!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #scarlet syndicate au #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

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rerefundslocals · 1 year

Text

Do it right j.jk

Summary : tip toeing has never gotten you anywhere, and with your undying crush for your roommate, you definitely aren't tip toeing through it too.

>>pairing : Jungkook x fem!reader

>>trope : roommates to lovers

>>genre : tiny angst, fluff, tiny ahh smut

>>word count : 1.7k

>>warnings/tags : softkoo, teasing, makeout sesh, dry humping, cumming through panties and briefs, mention of jungkooks legs, confessions, some attempt at poetry?.., they're cute.

a/n - uhh I'm trying to get descriptive as possible with my writing, but for now, here's something from jungkooks part 1 live!! And just little side comment. Set me free pt 2?!?!? Makes me wanna write for Jimin😭. Uhm anyways enjoy and feedback is very encouraging and I want it so much, so please don't be shy. (Not proof read)

~★~

"Too cold or too hot?"

"Just right, Kook."

Sitting in your shared living room, you and your roommate sit discussing the weather.

"Right?! Thank heavens this weather isn't boiling or freezing us to death." Jungkook exaggerates, while standing up to head to the kitchen.

His legs are on display today as he sports a Nike short and a black shirt, hair ridden as it frames his pretty face. Though you won't tell him.

"Yup." You reply, popping your p.

Your head is tilted to the side as you try to peak at Jungkook, and see what he is doing in the kitchen. He looks like he's pouring a drink for you both as your ears recieve the sound of two glasses hitting the countertop and you lick your lips at the though of the drink. Your cravings for jungkooks treat sitting at the back of your mind.

Both you and Jungkook have been roommates for about 4 years and oh has it been the most tempting years of your life.

While you try to avoid your feelings, You're completely oblivious of Jungkooks own.

Well mainly cause, he'll like to bring his hookups in the apartment and fuck them dizzy till morning while you quietly sob cause you're in that deep.

But they'd be gone by morning. The feelings, you mean. Atleast you try to rid them by getting hookups as well, and damn, they dont work. You'll be thinking of Jungkook during a makeout sesh, and it completely throws you off.

Why did you fall for him again? Why can't he like you back? And why is it yout goddamn roommate of four years?

All these questions play like a song playing on loop on your Spotify playlist. Haunting you on and on.

And this song. It never stops. As hard as you try to pause the song, to stop the song, or move on to the next song. It is nearly impossible and it pisses you off.

Because you just wanna play the next song. You wanna think of something different.

Maybe the sun and how bright it is, or the stars and how glowy they are or even think of what to eat Tommorow. But it is almost impossible with that same damn song playing in your mind and worst part ever?

You aren't fucking bored of it.

The glass in front of you and Jungkooks voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You're zoning out an awfall lot, Princess." He teases, but lowkey serious.

"O-Oh right, Thanks, Kook." You reply, completely letting the petname pass off as normal.

Jungkook moves closer to you out of instinct as one of his hands come up to fix your sundress strap that was falling off.

You cough slightly, "Thank you, Kook." He only nods and lays his head on your bare shoulder right after taking a sip of his iced coffee.

"Tell me what's on your mind." He prods.

What is on your mind? Could possibly be him. But you won't tell him that.

"A date I have tonight." You blurt. Well it's not entirely a lie, but Mya did invite you for this double date with strangers she found on tinder.

To be fair, she thought it'd be fun.

Jungkook bluffs as he sits up. "You? A date? Since when?"

"Oh why do you care?" You spit. Unintentionally being mean.

"I was just joking, chill. And it was a simple question, ____." You render in your head, that yeah it was a simple question and you're just so fucking sensitive, because you have a big fat crush on Jungkook. Emphasis on the fat.

"Right. I lowkey don't wanna go though." You mumble, but Jungkook catches it.

"Stay with me then. We can ball out on the Whiskey and watch some John Wick before the new one comes out. And when it does, watch it with me. On me. I'll pay for everything." He says, eyes daring into yours as he finishes, tongue toying with his lip piercing.

When you dint respond for almost a minute. Jungkooks tattooed hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, caressing it softly to gain your attention. "Mmh,Princess. What ya' think?"

Stuttering, "oh yeah right, that's perfect. I'll text Mya to cancel." You respond.

Jungkooks hand never leaves your thigh as he continues to caress it while you scramble for your phone that's next to you, to send Mya a quick text.

Your mind is wobbly and all over the place as you text Mya. Jungkooks hand distracting the shit out of you.

You : Hey, Babes. I'm sooooooo sorry but Junhkook lowkey making a move rn and I'm canceling on that date 😓 pls don't kill me. Atleast you can have a threesome tonight!!😟🕺🏾🕺🏾

After sending your informing but long text, Mya quickly responds the second you do.

Mya <3!! : I hate u😟 but have fun m'lady😓💕

You chuckle at the text, almost forgetting Jungkooks hand laying on your thigh.

Settling your phone down, you mumble an 'excuse me' to Jungkook as you stand up to get the Whiskey in the cabinet.

"Bring the cheap one!" Jungkook shouts from the living room. And from where you are, you can see him scrolling on his phone, a small smirk playing on his lips.

A mischievous like smirk. Probably looking through his next hookups text messages.

You ignore the feeling of jealousy in your heart. Shaking off the bitter feeling as you bend over to grab the Whiskey at the back. The furthest the cheapest.

You grab two Whiskey glasses and head over to the living room. Settling everything down, you swiftly lean back as your hair shadows your face and you do your best to move It away.

You both go through a whole hour of silence and making some small comments about the movie you're watching, while balling out on the Whiskey.

Never abruptly stopping with the Whiskey, you both end up finishing a whole bottle, and immediately after that, Jungkook gets up to get the second bottle.

This the 3rd hour. Second movie. More silence, yet so silently, little do you know what plays in Jungkooks mind.

"You didn't tell me you were into tattoos." Jungkook breaks the silence.

Taking a seat and handing him his glass of Whiskey after pouring what seems to both of your 10th glass you softly sigh. "Well I am. And how do you know this?" You question with furrowed brows.

"Your Instagram. And you've never expressed that love for my tats." He smirks.

"Y-you saw my insta?" You breathlessly ask. Feeling a wave of shock come over you. He was fucking Smirking at your Instagram.

He nods, "yeah. It's sexy."

That tickles your pussy. And feeling bold enough, you play along as you slowly take a sip of your Whiskey, finger seductively rubbing the rim of the glass.

"Oh yeah? How sexy?" You question.

Jungkook moves closer and grabs the glass from you, "the fact that it's you. That's sexy enough." He finishes, placing the whisky on the coffee table.

"Are you drunk?" You ask. Ignoring his comment.

"Takes more than that to make drunk. Why? You think I'll regret this?" He softly sighs ; moving closer to you, he grabs your waist and settles your body on his lap. Hands rubbing your waist.

Truth is, you do think he'll regret this. But you shake your head no. Maybe if he just fucked you, all the feelings would leave.

And you'd be free from the looped song that continues to play.

Lips hovering yours, you lean in closer, hands placed on his rigid shoulder.

Jungkook abruptly turns his head to the side, and your heart aches.

"Be honest. Did you think I'd regret this?"

You whisper an audible, "yes."

His lips encase yours for a long peck, that feels loving and reassuring.

"Trust me, I really have a thing for you. That typa shit that makes me wanna do what couples in New York do. Show everyone that you're mine and I'm yours. I have for the longest time."

You almost feel dizzy at his confession. Not because you refuse to believe it's real, you've wanted this to be real for the longest. It just now occurred to you that he felt the exact same way.

As your way of responding, your lips land on his for a sweet kiss that he leads. Really soft smacks of you both kissing resounding in the room.

You briefly pull away after a minute of kissing, "I like you, too." You shyly mumble.

Out of embarrassment, you bury your face in his chest and Jungkook chuckles above you and you know this because his chest rumbles.

"You're so cute." He whispers, fingers playing with your ear, and you smile up at him, meeting his smile as well. Drunken but he's not really that drunk.

Your eyes lazily shut and you cuddle closer into him.

"____," He starts and you pay him attention as you lean up. "Can I please be your boyfriend?" He asks. Hands holding yours like a delicate flower. Your favorites even.

You giggle and that makes his heart skips a beat. Who would've thought the sound of your laughs would make his heart smile so much.

"Yes, Jungkook. You can. I'd love that so much."

He smiles and it almost reaches his ear but you attack him with a kiss, sloppily making out with your Boyfriend, and his hands come up to caress your him, guiding you to grind on his prominent bulge.

"Argh- fuck, just like that." He props of your mouth, leaning to kiss up your neck as you grind on him with force, making yourself incredibly wet, that it soaks right through your floral lacey thong, soiling Jungkooks expensive Shorts.

You go about dry humping him. Hoping to cum that way.

The moans in the room.are synced and ragged and broken up as Jungkook grinds up into you, hoping to find his release as well.

You finally cum in your panties, head coming down onto Jungkooks shoulder as he shoots into his briefs, releasing as well.

"Oh, God." You muffle in his shoulder, feeling lightheaded from all the alcohol and energy put into humping.

Chuckling, "you Okay, sweetie?" Jungkook questions.

You would've answered simultaneously, but you're Slumped and deep into your sleep already.

Jungkook notices this when he tries to get a view of you above him.

"So pretty." He murmurs at your sleepikg figure,placing a loving peck on your forehead after moving his sweaty hair from his face and you're both loudly snoring after that.

In your mind, you're really glad that you were able to get rid of the looped song.

~♥︎~

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russellinatussle · 6 months

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Survive a Zombie Apocalypse w/ F1 Teams

Would you survive a zombie apocalypse with your favourite team? Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and just my opinion

(The team logos represent you so if it's coloured, you're alive and if it's in black and white...sorry dude)

Aston Martin

Listen, I know you're confident you'd survive. I'd be confident too. Unfortunately you(we) couldn't be more than wrong. This is a one for all, all for none situation. If they can save their own butts they will. If its at the cost of you, well, you shouldn't have chosen them to begin with. Fernando isn't that mean though so if you do manage to fall into a trap, he'd leave you a little note reading, "Enjoy getting eaten by zombies!;D" as a goodbye as he and Lance disappears off into the distance. Great!!!

AlphaTauri

I don't think you'd survive. Daniel and Yuki have watched their fair share of survival movies but when it comes to actually surviving in the middle of an apocalypse? Yea, no. Even if you managed to survive 99% of your journey, bad luck will definitely hit you during that last 1%. On the other hand, you could be extremely, EXTREMELY lucky and survive but this has a 0.82929292% chance. But hey, it's not 0.

Alfa Romeo

Yes, you'd survive. You have two of the chillest people on the grid with you. With a level head, you'd manage to escape with minimal contact with zombies. Valterri is the team leader here and has quite a lot of knowledge on survival in the wild and you and Guanyu are willing team players so you guys would definitely survive. Don't think Guanyu doesn't bring anything to the table though. With his fashion expertise, he'd manage to blend you guys in with the zombies. Instant survival. (Let's just ignore that zombies might smell your scent and just pretend that they're partially blind and have anosmia)

Alpine

You'd survive, given that the two of them are able to work together. I feel like Pierre and Esteban would be afraid to fight the zombies but if you do encounter them, they'd somehow manage to take down most of them. They're squeamish though so if any zombie guts get on them, they're gagging and trying not to throw their own guts up. They don't really have the foundation of basic survival skills tho. Fighting they can do but making a fire, cooking and foraging? Not so good at so be sure to be proficient in these areas or else you might poison yourselves accidentally.

Mercedes

You'd survive but George and Lewis will not. It's mostly because they didn't believe the apocalypse was real until it was too late. During the few days of the apocalypse they were still alive though, Lewis had endless optimism that kept your spirits high and George's dank humour kept you entertained. Wish he actually listened to your advice of wearing a damn shirt in the middle of an apocalypse but eh. But don't worry, after the Brits meet their unfortunate demise, you won't be alone. You'd have Roscoe and the password to Mercedes' TikTok account so it's not all bad. (It is)

Ferrari

No, you will not survive. With no decent strategy and non-reliable equipment, the zombies unfortunately get to you before you can even say Ferrari double podium. You won't die immediately per say. You'd manage to hold your own for the first couple of days but when almost all your equipment starts breaking apart or stops working, the end seems to be in sight. Charles has no self-preservation skills and Carlos is in his own head most of the time. If they were given the right tools, they would definitely survive the apocalypse. But you know how it is rn... You actually do quite well defending yourselves from zombies, probably all that built up Ferrari frustration. However, if you make an alliance with another team, you'd have a higher chance at survival. If the apocalypse were to be in a few years time though, maybe you'd have a higher chance at survival

Red Bull

You and Max would survive. For some reason, you lost Checo in the middle of a zombie chase. He's not dead, you just have no idea where he is now. Max would definitely know his way around surviving an apocalypse because he's literally the Google embodiment, random facts just stewing in his brain.

Williams

Might be unexpected (or expected), but you'd survive. They have decent survival skills, not the best but decent. Logan can hunt (cause yk Logan HUNTER Sargeant?? Cmon now), with his obvious love for fishing and Alex definitely has a route planned to escape the zombies. They're not skilled scouts but they have the most basic of basic knowledge of survival so yea you'd survive. One thing you didn't see coming was the number of animals you'd adopt on the journey.

Haas

Yea you'd survive. They're definitely one of the most resourceful, making weapons out of things they randomly find but you do have some close calls due to them maybe disagreeing on certain issues. They both have basic survival skills, Kevin more than Nico so if you have no choice but to camp out in the woods, you're not doomed. In conclusion, as long as you're willing to be the peacemaker most of the time, you'll be fine.

McLaren

You survive but barely. You have good strategies but your survival skills are 1 to none. Need to make a fire? Where's the lighter? Need food but only fish is available? Yea, no way. Encounter zombies? Defence is the new offence. You try your best to avoid zombies at all costs but if it's inevitable (which it will be), you'll try an alternative way that doesn't involve hand-to-hand combat with the undead. BUT, if you really have no other choice then to fight zombies, Lando and Oscar would be pretty decent in it. Lando's chosen weapon would be a gold club while Oscar's would be a cricket bat. It's kind of therapeutic actually, just smashing zombies left and right.

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hauntedbubbles · 1 month

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They're so sassy with it 🤣🤣🤣

Graves: Watch your ass down there Soap: Aye...I'll be watchin' somebody's arse doon ther'👀 Ghost: Fuckin' 'ell

@atombonniebaby here with my secondary blog...wanted to give my cod content it's own home... HantedBubbles = SoapGhost 🧼💀

I'm also doing a one shot, where Soap didn't get the birthday he had planned, and the boys decide to drop in, unannounced to cheer him up. (or Price has the kids for the weekend)

So...I wrote a bit where Ghost is bribed into getting the above outfit when they're out getting supplies 🤣

Have a read 👇🏼 encourage me to finish it 🙌🏼

"You seen this?" Gaz holds up a t-shirt, a mix of black and neon pinks. "It's got a skull."

He should hate it. He knows he should. It's garish and loud and everything he'd usually scoff at. But fuck it all, he sorta loves it? "It's not the worst thing you Muppets have shown me..."

"With them grey jeans and this..." Gaz hands him a light grey garment, a jacket by the looks of it, trendier than he'd ever have chosen for himself. The arms look like they'd cut off circulation to his hands if he flexed too hard. "I think it could work."

"Go on, son, no point speculating, go try ‘em on." Price shoos him in the direction of the changing rooms.

He could complain or try to argue his case, but he knows this is one of those battles he won't win. With a heady sigh he makes his way to an empty cubicle, which is hardly big enough to house a fucking toddler... never mind his 6”3’ arse.

After what felt like the warm-up session from his workouts (and an hour of swearing at buttons), Ghost managed to wrestle himself into a pair of jeans that actually fit him (if you don't look down past his shins) They were just long enough that his boots might reach ‘em. (And spare him the trouble of looking a right tosser.)

They was...a little hugging. The soft, light grey denim, a far cry from his usual heavy blue work jeans and cargos... He almost hates them too, wants to, but even he can admit, his legs looked mint in ‘em, he turned then, to see how they look in the back and— yeah...not on their life... this ain’t ‘appenin’—

"You alive in there?” Price, king-of-choosing-his-moments, knocked on the door.

Fuck! The button's stuck!..."Ye...yeah..." He struggled to breathe out, trying to keep quiet while fat fingers fumbled with the bastard button. "Tha’s it! I-I ain't buyin' 'nout from 'ere— fuckin' ’ell!”

"Simon, unlock it, yeah?”

If that fucker laughed he'd kill him. With a defeated sigh, Ghost opened the door just enough for Price to slide inside the tiny space... He looks down at the captain and debates if he has enough room to hide the body.

“Just help us get these off, yeah? Fuckin' things are stuck!”

"Reign it in...take a breath." He had to give it to the Captain, that smile that nearly broke, stayed away. "They ain't bad on ya, what's the matter?”

He's more caked up than the fucking bakery isle in this here Big Tesco is what's the fucking matter. "They ain't practical, Captain. Soft as shit fabric'll fall apart after a few washes."

"Fifty quid..." Price smiled, arms crossed and smug as he opened the door. "And I'll buy 'em for ya?”

"Why?” Ghost blurted out. "I ain't got anywhere to wear 'em!"

"Because I remember the crazy shit you used to wear back in the day, and this is bloody tame... Why not let Simon have this one, eh?”

He hated the way his cheeks burned hotter... but fifty quid? Outta the Captains pocket? Fuckin' hell. "A'right, fine! But on the small chance I croak it t’night and end up a real fuckin' ghost lookin' like a knob...I'm haunting ya!”

Price laughed at that, clapping him on the shoulder. "That sounds like a yes?"

"A begrudging one."

"Then get to it. We 'aven't got all day."

Bastard.

Ghost double knotted his laces. Nothing pinched, everything fitted, felt comfortable. Fuck. He stood on a deep breath and turned to the ridiculously big mirror and tugged the scarf back down around his neck, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck's sake..."

The skull T-shirt clung a little tighter than he expected. Not quite a second skin, but enough to be noticeable. These clothes were... new and different, and he doesn't know how to process how that made him feel.

He was the kind of guy that could blend into any crowd, could fade into the background and be unnoticed. He liked being invisible. Hated being in the spotlight.

The jeans made him feel like an asshole.

The shirt made him look like a twat.

And yet, who he found staring back in the mirror was a man that could pass for an everyday bloke. One who didn't live on the fringes of society, one who hadn't done the things he had. This was a guy who could be content curled up on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea. The kind of man that had roots, who had friends and family that stood by him...had his back.

Simon stepped out of that cubicle, feeling more naked than he had when he'd stripped down. Yet, a strange sense of security washed over him as he faced his commanding officer with an apprehensive stare.

Price had that stupid, dopey grin plastered on his face, just like when he was congratulating his troops on a job well done.

"There he is," Price whispered as he reached up to ruffle his hair, and he batted the hand away, scowling as he ducked out of the changing room.

"Fuckin' hell, sir..."

"Garrick...I'm warnin' ya..." he growled, shoving the smaller man towards the exit of the store. "Not another fuckin' word."

#If you guys have seen Barry and Sam's banter on lives...I just imagine that's how the whole team are!#john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghost mw2 #modern warfare #cod ghost #call of duty mwii #kyle gaz garrick #ghost riley #cod modern warfare #mw2 #captain price #john price #mw3 #mw2 fanfic #mw3 fanfic #warzone screens

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butch-blu-scout · 8 months

Note

hi!!! if your requests are still open could you write something with scout x reader 🤞 maybe some angst if you're up for it??? (im a sucker for angst) thank u !! 🐌

Hi! Of course they're still open! This is actually the first ask I've gotten in a while lol. Feel free to send in more if you have other ideas ^-^

I've never been very good at angst but here's my best shot. It's very dramatic. My other idea for this was infidelity but I thought that might be too sad (however if anyone wants to see that feel free to send a request).

Thank you to @schlong69420 for helping me brainstorm.

Warnings for: insecurity, angst and feels (to the best of my abilities)

Word Count: 760

Scout often wondered about how people really felt about him. I mean, really felt. Sure, some of his teammates called him annoying, or treated him like a little brother- but he knew that was all in good faith. At least they'd tell him to screw off to his face if he got too annoying.

But it was harder to figure things out when it came to folks outside the team, and by "folks" I mean his partner, and by "his partner" I mean you.

Scout had been particularly energetic today, way more than usual. He had been chatty to everyone, including you. He was all over the field, hardly able to concentrate of the objective. He ran to every explosion, every shout, anything that he heard immediately grabbing his attention. It was frustrating for everyone on the team, even Scout was getting annoyed with his own inability to focus.

It was safe to say that they lost the match.

After the match everyone had glared at him whenever he tried to lighten the mood. Usually it worked, but today not so much. But he kept trying.

"Hey ya know- those guys were prolly cheatin' anyway. So really-" Scout was cut off.

"Son- will you just can it?" Engie snapped, "We lost. Everyone knows it's your fault. Everyone else has accepted it, you need to do the same before you get a black eye."

That shut him up real quick.

That was Scout. He tried all the time to be there for everyone else, to lighten the mood, to make everyone feel a bit better. Even if he was the butt of the joke. It was just who he was. But today... he just felt like he was too much. For anyone. Even you.

You hadn't seen Scout since he'd left the showers. Usually after he hit the showers, you both headed straight to his room to hang out, watch movies, whatever. But when you knocked on the door he wasn't there. You'd even double checked to make sure he wasn't just asleep, but he wasn't there. Which was odd for him.

You went searching, checking the kitchen, and the lounge area, The garage, even the Med-Bay, but he wasn't there. Nobody seemed to know where he went either, that or they were still too pissy to want to find him.

You were almost to Sniper's camper when you finally spotted him. You had turned around to check for critters when you saw the glint of something on the roof of the base. Dogtags. It didn't take much walking to see the small dash of bright red curled up on the roof.

Climbing up the roof was quick work if you knew where the secret ladder was (it was in Sniper's room, which he never used). It wasn't hard to sneak up behind Scout either. He was too lost in his thoughts (usually a bad thing when it came to Scout).

"Hey baby," You sat down next to him. He jumped at your sudden intrusion, he calmed fairly quickly though. Scout was still wrestling with his pent up energy, made obvious by the tapping of his leg and his other little fidgets.

"Hey sweetheart, ya scared me. What uh, what bring ya up here?" He asked.

"Oh, well I was looking for you." You explained, "You disappeared after the match today. I though we were gonna watch a movie tonight?"

"Ah, yeah. Sorry I um.. Just needed to clear my head. Didn't wanna keep botherin' anybody."

"Scout."

"What?"

" What's going on with you hm? You're not usually like this."

"It's- I just- It's nothin' really," He scratched the back of his neck, "I'm just being a lot today, and I know it. And I can't even help myself 'cause I don't realize it until it's too late. And then everyone's pissed off at me. And I already pissed everybody off by losin' the damn match, and I really didn't feel like pissin' you off too. 'Cause I knew you wouldn't tell me if I got too annoyin'- 'cause I know you. And I'm probably pissin- you off right now with alla this and I should just stop fuckin' talkin' but I can't and I-"

You wrapped your arms around him gently.

The two of you sat up there for a while, watching the stars. You let Scout talk about everything and nothing, just to get it out of his system. Because, yeah, he could be annoying, and he could be a lot, but that didn't make you love him any less.

______________________________________________________________

I hope this was good, or at least filled some of your itch for angst ^-^. Sorry that it's kinda short. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thanks for sending a request :)

#tf2 scout #tf2 #scout tf2 #team fortress 2 #scout tf2 x reader #scout x reader #angst with a happy ending #angst #tf2 fanfiction #alex writes content

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fixatedonfandom · 2 years

Text

Mask Off

[I have a tf2 prompt I wanted to write but I don't have enough of them to make a prompt compilation so I figured I'd just write it here and hope everything goes well. I did the absolute most on the French so pls fix it if it's wrong]

BTW I HAVE SURGICALLY GRAFTED HUMAN EMOTIONS INTO EACH OF THE MERCS IN MY FICS SO THAT'S WHY THEY'RE 'like that' (normal). I have grafted double the amount of emotions into Spy as a treat.

Synop: Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea.

~~~

"Hold his arms! Now!" Medic snapped, not knowing nor caring who listened. Demoman had been hovering near the bed, and latched onto Scout's wrists to pin him down before the thrashing began.

Scout was feverish, slurring out something incomprehensible, almost as angry as he was frightened, and was pushing up against Demoman’s hands with every ounce of fight he possessed. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing, and nothing the Medic said or did could bring them around to focus.

”What’s now, doc?” Demoman barked. As Scout bucked against him, Demo laid down right on top of him, using his chest to keep Scout on the mattress.

Medic did not speak; he grabbed one of Scout’s arms and held it fast against the bed, then slapped the strap of a soft restraint around his wrist and yanked it tight. Demo fumbled for the one on the other side and did the same, and moved to Scout’s legs to keep him still. All the while, Scout was yelling out nonsense, interspersed with things that sounded like pleas.

“Jus-no, ge-get off! Get off me! Leave, no, please-”

”You’re a’right, lad! You’re a’right, it’s Demo!” said Demo, with heaving breaths. “Demo? Scout, lad-”

“Ge-get- fuck- let-let me go!” Scout gasped in turn. His thrashing rattled the bed, only then being kept in place by the wheel locks, and he was straining his arms against the restraints hard enough to leave a bruise.

Medic was frazzled, composed as he may have looked. He’d almost made the decision to lunge for a syringe of sedative when Scout began to calm, by nothing but him exhausting himself, until his head lolled to the side and all that remained of the fit was mumbling and an occasional spasm.

Demo backed away from the bed, swiping a large hand down his face and clearing the accumulation of sweat from the rim of his eyepatch. “Tha’s a worse one. Didn’t say nothin’ compr’ensible.”

“Least he kept his hands to himself,” the Engineer cut in. He’d been sitting by Scout’s bedside in a creaky metal chair, and had one hand thumbing through a book of known ailments, and the other nursing a cold-compress- one of the few Medic could spare, given the circumstances -to a blossoming bruise on his jawbone.

When push came to shove, as it often did, Scout had a mean left-hook. He was so scrawny-looking that it was easy to forget.

“Not tha’ we gave ‘im much choice,” Demoman sighed. “I feel for th’lad. Cannae imagine wha’ he’s seein’. Wee lad’s prolly thinkin’ he’s fightin’ off ghoulies ‘n ‘his own personal hell.”

“That will be all, Demoman,” Medic sighed over him and ran his fingers, ungloved, through his hair. His black hair was dull, limp, and greasy-looking, and as unkempt as the man who wore it. Both had gone at least two days without a proper wash.

“Aye,” acquiesced Demoman, and picked up another ailments book to flip through with Engineer. Medic would have been doing the same if not for Scout needing spontaneous care. The Engineer and Demoman had offered to help him, overwhelmed as he was with keeping Scout’s fever down through the past two days and trying to find the source of the illness, and stayed in the infirmary with Medic.

Each RED team mercenary displayed his concern for Scout’s wellbeing in his own way.

Heavy had been one of Medic's assistants for the first day, but stepped away when the look of Scout in the throes of fever became too much for him. Too many memories, and none of them good. He spent his time researching for the doctor, much like Engineer and Demo. He'd also made a sandvich for when Scout wakes with an appetite, just in case.

Engineer and Demo needed to be useful, and stepped up on the first day to help. Engineer had no head for medicine and a piss-poor bedside manner, but he could read and research better than most anyone. He turned up to the lab, grabbed an armful of medical textbooks, dropped himself down in the chair besides Scout's bed, and remained there for two days straight. Demoman could comfort- he was a touchy-feely guy, and he was strong. When Scout first awoke two days into the fever and started fighting, Demo appointed himself to Scout's bedside to catch him when he flailed.

Soldier wasn't much for medicine work, and he hated the infirmary, but he became the one that everyone relied on for routine since theirs was so disrupted. He enforced breakfast and dinner like a drill sergeant, bringing food when Medic couldn't leave. In the absence of anyone else to talk to, he'd managed to clean the base spotless too.

Pyro drew pictures, and sent them in like clockwork. Doodles of the team, filled with colors, smiling scenery, and a healthy, happy Scout in the middle of each one. He didn't come by to visit. Knowing what Scout was acting like, he knew he might be too scary for him.

Sniper did what he did best- he kept his distance. Once or twice he came around to visit, but saw how overwhelmed everyone one was stayed out of the way. Somehow, though, the coffee pot in the kitchen never emptied, no matter how many cups were taken out of it, and the dishes were cleaned despite no one sticking around the kitchen long enough to do them.

Spy was different. To the outside eye his concern, if any, hadn’t manifested at all. He still smoked his cigarettes as though he had only a day left to live, and still holed himself up in invisible corners around the compound, only appearing when least desired. If RED were not a team, one could think him heartless and detached.

They were, however, a team, and even the least observant among them had seen the signs of stress he carried. Spy’s aura was tense, and he carried himself with more urgency, when he was ever seen. If he was not in his smoking room, he was in the infirmary, watching, an unlit cigarette bitten between his teeth to satisfy the fixation but not disturb Scout’s breathing with smog. In the times between Scout’s waking bouts, he would step aside with Medic and ask questions regarding Scout’s health in hushed tones, like hiding his fears from prying ears.

It was then, when Scout had settled into fitful sleep again, that Spy melted out of the shadow of the infirmary wall to approach Medic from behind, with his usual inquiries.

“Finally utilizing those restraints, I see,” Spy remarked, equally delicate and ironic. “How is the boy today?”

“Worse. Only getting worse,” replied Medic in a rough tone. He’d turned to his shelves of medicines and concoctions, shifting through the bottles and making them clink together. “Verdammt, where is it?”

Spy came around him and looked over Medic’s shoulder. “What are you looking for, my friend?”

“Fever reducer. I tried to give him one earlier.” Medic picked a bottle, read the German label, and set it behind him on his desk. “He spat it out.”

“Not surprised.”

“It was too weak, anyway,” Medic said. He paused in his rummaging to glance back at Spy, perhaps to see if he was listening. “I was a trauma surgeon. I have not treated sickness in many, many years.”

Spy’s cigarette had turned into soggy, unpleasant paper mache in his mouth, and the tobacco leaves had fallen out onto his tongue in bitter mush. He put the old cigarette in the bin near Medic’s desk, then pulled himself another.

“I hope you have some idea of what this illness could be, yes?” Spy ventured as he put the cig between his teeth. Medic sighed and did not meet his eyes, just shaking his head and whispering something. “Then how do you possibly plan to treat him?”

"I...I don't know. Verdammt, I do not know!" Medic admitted like he was spitting out a tooth. He clutched the sides of the cabinet doors, and the wood creaked under his hands. "He will not take fluids, he will not eat. If I cannot get him to calm down I will have to sedate him until he's not at the immediate risk of death. That alone poses its risks, but I would rather those than...this."

Spy glanced over his shoulder to trail his eyes down Scout's body, quivering and sweat-soaked, as he fitted in his sleep. "What kind of risks?" he asked.

Medic collected his thoughts and sighed again, a forceful huff through his nose, then replied, "Delirium. Worse than this. If his breathing continues to get worse he will have to be ventilated, which doubles the risks of prolonged sedation. Depending on how he processes the sedatives it could take him several days, maybe weeks, to recover. This is all assuming that I can fix him while he's unconscious, without having to resort to more intrusive methods."

Spy shifted his stance, his hands itching for the lighter in his coat pocket. He resisted it, naturally, but the urge was biting at the tips of his fingers.

"How would you suppose we get him to calm down, hm?" Spy asked.

"He does not recognize anyone or anything. If I could bring his fever down enough for him to regain some lucidity, that would help," Medic said. "As it stands, unless we can present him with something familiar, he will refuse to cooperate. Something his mind will recognize intrinsically, as confused as he is. He believes we are the enemy."

Spy hummed as his response, pretending to be distracted, and hesitated to consider the idea that had begun to brew in his head. "His mother, perhaps?"

Medic shook his head. "Nein. Not realistic. Even if we could get her to the state in a timely manner, by the time she’s gotten through the company's bureaucratic hoops to set foot on base, he might not be lucid enough for it to make any sort of difference. If I allow him to get to that point I may not be able to restore him."

“And if he does get to that point?”

Medic hesitated. He was given no chance to respond.

"Doc! Lad's comin' round."

They both turned. Demo was leaning over Scout's bed, hands primed to grab Scout's arms should he start thrashing again, and Scout was rousing slowly, turning his head, furrowing his face as he came to a no-doubt painful consciousness.

“We have tried Respawn, and he came out just as sick as before. Respawn cannot save him,” Medic whispered to him, then turned once more to his shelves with his back to his patient.

“No…no, l-let me…s-stop,” Scout moaned out, already pressing up against his restraints and Demoman’s grip.

“Lad- lad, c’mon, stop- stop it!” Demo hissed back, straining to keep Scout on the bed while taking care not to frighten him with shouting. Demo tensed, with gritted teeth, as Scout started to cry.

“Pleas…please, please…l-let m’go… get- let me go!”

“No no no- aye, lad, c’mon. C’mon it’s me. It’s me, it’s Demo, lad.” Demoman leaned in close to Scout’s face. Scout reeled away as far as his head could press into the mattress, chest and shoulders still wracked with suppressed sobs. Even unconscious, Scout couldn’t let anyone see him cry.

“P-P-Papa,” Scout hiccuped. It could’ve almost been any other word, as slurred and warbled as it sounded, but to Spy’s ears it came as clear as the ringing of a church bell.

Spy’s thoughts left through his lips before he stopped to consider them properly.

"Everyone barring the doctor, please step outside," Spy announced. He approached Scout's bed, shooing Demo aside. "Now, would be ideal."

Demo stayed put with stubbornness and clear hesitation, and Engineer looked up to him confused. Medic fixed Spy with a curious look, but said nothing against him.

"Er, doc-"

"You heard the man." Medic was fixing another cold compress, distracted. "It seems Herr Spy will be taking over, Herr Demoman. Everyone, out!"

Scout winced, whimpering on the bed. Demo stepped back slowly and released Scout, though keeping his hand extended, but Spy shooed him again and he made for the door with the Engineer. Neither looked convinced they should leave, but did regardless, and Spy and Medic were the only lucid ones left in the infirmary.

"I should hope you have reason for disposing of my assistants-" began Medic, then cut off by Spy.

"I would prefer this be observed by as few as possible, doctor," said Spy. He slid off his leather gloves and set them on the metal side-table. "Should this even work."

At that moment Scout's eyes opened, glassy and damp, to the ceiling. Spy put his bare hand on Scout's forehead, expecting the flinch that came.

"No, no! Get...g-get off'me! J-Just-!"

In a single, fluid swipe, Spy tugged his mask off of his head, and brought his face into Scout's line of sight before the struggling could begin. His salt-and-pepper hair was tousled and untidy, though obviously well-groomed, and his olive-toned jaw had a deep shadow indicating days of neglect. He startled Medic badly enough that Medic fumbled with the medicine cup and sent it splattering across the tile, but neither paid it much notice.

"Sois calme, mon lapin," Spy whispered in the most delicate voice he could use. "Sois calme."

Scout froze taut, staring wide-eyed at nothing but the ceiling tiles. Medic watched him, wrapping his prepared compress in a thick towel, and waited.

"P..." Scout murmured, unfocused. His eyes scanned the lines of Spy's face, sluggish, and a dull recognition lit up behind them. "Papa?"

Relief sent Spy slumping over the bed, closer to Scout, and he ran his hand through Scout’s sweat-damp, greasy brown hair. "Oui. I am here, Jeremy. I am here."

Scout said nothing, but his left hand tugged up against his restraints. He seemed surprised when his hand wouldn't move.

"Wh-wh’s…” Spy saw the panic building, and rubbed Scout’s scalp again.

“You are very sick, mon trésor,” Spy explained in simple words. His unoccupied hand made quick work of the soft restraints, and they fell from Scout’s arms to dangle off the sides of the bed. “You are with the doctor. He will take care of you.”

“Oh…” Scout whispered. Scout’s eyes trailed around the room, slow and stuttery, until they found Medic, still standing frozen by his desk. Like melting ice, clarity emerged through Scout’s bleariness, and it manifested in a single word as Scout whispered, “M...Med…?”

It snapped Medic out of the trance he’d fallen into, and he scrambled to put together another cup of medicine and bring it over with his wrapped cold-compress. For a moment he and Spy locked eyes, and Spy recalled that Medic hadn’t seen his face in the years since his initial physical. Politely, Medic didn’t stare.

“Herr Scout,” Medic uttered, allowing Scout to get his bearings before lifting Scout’s hand and having him hold the small cup. “Drink this.”

“Wh-”

“Fever reducer,” said Medic before Scout attempted to stumble through a question. Distractedly, he placed the compress alongside Spy's gloves on the table, appearing to forget about it. “I will bring you something to ease your sleep, if you will take it this time. And water. You may also need…” Medic trailed off and wandered to his shelves again, muttering under his breath all of the things he could have Scout take while he was conscious.

Spy moved his hand to support Scout’s and helped him guide it to his lips. “Drink this, lapin. You will feel better.”

He could see the hesitance screwing up on Scout’s face, and trusted Scout’s reflexes were too sluggish to resist when he poured it into Scout’s mouth.

“Swallow, Jeremy. Swallow, s’il te plaît.” Spy put his hand over Scout’s mouth when Scout tried to spit it out, foul though it may have been. He kept his hand until he felt Scout swallow. "Ah, Très bien, mon chou.”

“Has he spit it out again?” Medic returned with a glass of water in one hand.

“Non, he’s swallowed it.” Spy swept the sweat from Scout’s forehead. “Water, please?”

“He’s swallowed it?” Medic’s voice held a relief so palpable it was almost suspended in the air. He passed the glass into Spy’s hand. “Truly?”

“Yes.” Spy let silence fall between them and guided the water into Scout’s limp hand, then tilted his head back for him to drink. He took to the water much more readily than the medicine. Once it touched his lips he began to swallow like a man on the verge of death, and Spy had to pull the glass away twice so he wouldn’t choke. “Pace yourself, mon chou.”

“I have not been able to get him to drink anything in days. I would allow him some desperation,” Medic said. He’d removed his glasses, rubbing out the smudges on the edge of his vest. “I do not know how long you’ll wish to stay, but if I may-”

“I’ll stay until the boy can take a drink on his own,” Spy spoke over him, though only giving Medic half of his attention. “Perhaps after, if more problems arise.”

Scout blinked slowly, like a barn owl, and each blink after that was heavier than the last. It didn’t take long for Scout’s eyes to fall shut and for his breathing, though still labored, to come in even strokes. Spy let his hand rest upon the boy’s cheek, and a long-dead warmth that Spy had not experienced in decades washed over him like a baptism.

“This time, mon lapin,” whispered Spy, stroked Scout’s cheekbone, and pulled his hand away.

“Hm?” That was Medic, somewhere by his desk.

“This time,” Spy repeated. “I would like to stay for him.”

~~~

Also I did not edit this so...lol

tanks for reading :)

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punkslovepoints · 1 year

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Wayne Munson was working most of Christmas. The plant paid double on Christmas day and, not being a religious family, Eddie had explained they tended to move their actual festive celebrations around based on Wayne's shifts. He visited Wayne regularly throughout the year anyway, so as long as they saw each other for a few hours on Christmas Day, that was good enough for them.

Still, when Wayne mentioned he had a couple hours window on the day itself, Steve, being the good friend he was, agreed to join Eddie in a visit to his Uncle's trailer.

Wayne had welcomed them both with big hugs, squeezing Eddie so tight Steve was a little concerned he was going to break his ribs and they'd settled all three on the couch, Celtic vs Bulls Christmas game playing on the TV. At halftime, Wayne had got up to make coffee as Eddie went out to the car to grab the gifts they'd brought, returning with a flourish and a ta da.

Wayne gave Eddie a new Metallica shirt and a necklace, a dragon's claw holding a red orb on a black string. He put it on immediately, handing over his gift for Wayne, a fleeced checkered shirt for the winter. Wayne handed Steve a present too, a small box containing a metal keychain with the Indiana Hoosiers basketball team logo on. "I didn't know what to get you, but Eddie's always complaining about you watching the sports on TV so I figured it was a good bet."

Steve pulled him into another hug, "It's perfect. Thank you."

Eddie grinned at the two of them, then reached into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. Holding it between his teeth, he fumbled about for a lighter.

Wayne spoke. "No smoking in the trailer. I'm tryn'a quit."

"No shit. Good for you," Eddie replied, turning to Steve and waving the cigarette at him, eyebrows raised.

Steve shook his head. He was trying to cut down too, although being around Eddie all the time wasn't helping. Eddie shrugged and headed outside, perched on the metal steps, he pushed the door closed behind him.

Wayne turned to Steve, signaled him to follow him further into the trailer. He coughed. "How's he doing?" He nodded towards the door.

Steve smiled. What he wouldn't give to have a parent like Wayne in his life. Someone who actually cared about him. "He's good."

"He eating well? Looking after himself."

"We have a rota. Nancy keeps us well fed. We eat vegetables and everything."

Wayne chucked softly. Looking over at the door again, he spoke quietly, not meeting Steve's eye, "And you boys are being careful, if you catch my drift. I know they've got these new drugs an' all, but they're still dropping like flies. I don't want you boys caught up in that. You're, what do they call it, monogamous? And if not, you're being safe?"

Steve took a moment to work out what he was talking about. Oh. He ran his fingers through his hair, found himself nodding.

Wayne continued, "Don't look so surprised. I know he's that way inclined, you didn't have to sit next to him the first time we watched Magnum PI on the TV. The color his face went will stick with me for the rest of my life." He chuckled, "That's his choice to tell me. If and when he's ready. But I can see the way he looks at you. That boy's in love. Tom Selleck levels of infatuation, and I can see the way you look at him too."

He reached out a hand and patted Steve on the shoulder, "You're family now, so I'm gonna worry about the two of you. Okay?"

Steve didn't correct him, didn't feel the distinction was all that important.

>> Read the full fic on AO3 <<

#steddie #steddie fic reccs #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things fic #apparently i write fic now

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crusherthedoctor · 5 months

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1, 2, 7 and 12 for Sonic!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Used to not like him very much, in spite of his good qualities, because of how much he annoyed me with his usually not-that-funny snark, and how said snark would often cause fans to think that somehow translates to Eggman being a harmless joke. And how fans tend to let him get away with things that they'd crucify any other character for because main character bias. And because as long as his portrayal is considered top tier, then it's suddenly no big deal if the rest of the cast is treated like an afterthought at best that only exists to make him look good. I still stand by the opinion that Black Knight fell into that trap despite its otherwise solid portrayal of Sonic, and Frontiers has sadly followed suit... with a not quite as solid Sonic.

Nowadays... he's still not exactly one of my absolute favourites, because all of that still rings true to this day, and beside that, there are simply a ton of other characters in the series that I prefer. (Eggman, Tails, Rouge, Tikal, Blaze, Trip, Vector... Gamma... Omega... the Heavies... Luppy Luppy Man... Moneybags...). But after IDW turned him into Mr. Principles, and Prime turned him into Mr. Funny Penis Man, on top of how other adaptations like SatAM and Archie dropped the ball with him, AND combined with how often fans go one extreme or the other with him and choose to misinterpret him as either a stereotypical superhero or the Punisher... it's easier to appreciate the unique depth and perspective that Game Sonic has.

Note that I always knew the nuance was there. I was never blind to it, and I always gave credit where I felt it was due, like the ending to Secret Rings. It's just easier to do so when the amount of portrayals that catastrophically miss the point have gone into overdrive.

Getting used to writing for him in my fanfic material has also helped me gel with him a bit more (not in a Flynn/Stanley way: I've been very adament on keeping him in-character to the best of my ability, even with the addition of you-know-what involving you-know-which-horsie). I also softened up on him because of how much I now associate him with you. :>

One more thing: I realise that most of my aforementioned issues came down to the fandom rather than Sonic himself. These days, I try my best to separate annoying fan hijinks with the character unless I already hate them on their own merits (Surge and Kit), or said hijinks are unavoidably linked to the reason for my beef with them and thus it can't be put aside so easily. Like the Freedom Fighters being overrated as all hell when they weren't all that and spent a lot of time being dicks, or Sage receiving so much praise for """fleshing Eggman out""" and depth she arguably doesn't have, or my currently soured feelings on Amy due to bias and double standards surrounding her less flattering moments VS that of other characters.

2. Favourite canon thing about this character?

His compassion.

No, not that gaslighting and lecturing with 30 paragraphs bullshit. Game Sonic's compassion. Real compassion.

He might not always know what to say, or how to say it, but he always tries his best with someone as long as they're not an irredeemable villain (unless they've already been defeated and can be potentially reasoned with afterwards, like with Merlina). For all the praise given to him for this, I'd argue it's still one of his most underrated traits, since so many fans think that his somewhat selfish love for adventure and enjoying the thrills mean that he doesn't take saving lives or the wellbeing of others seriously, like it's all just a game to him and nothing more... Meanwhile, Eggman is the one portrayed as understanding and compassionate in fanworks. How the hell does that work.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

In Sonic's case, I can't think of much specific other than... keeping him in-character, due to how it doesn't happen often, although you could say that about any of the cast under the average fandom pen. I appreciate it when fans truly understand him, and know what they're talking about with him. Now if only there was someone I knew who fit that description... some kind of Sonic Encyclopedia, if you will... ;P

I guess if it counts, I do like it when him and Tails are portrayed as the unbreakable bond that they are in canon, but ONLY if Tails is treated with equal respect and agency. Lot of fans like to overly infantilize him so that Sonic can take care of him, which implies they only see Tails as a useful tool and not a character in his own right.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Here's a few. I'll number them (in no particular order) since bullet points always group everything together with no spacing when I use them, which annoys me every time lol.

1. Since he's somewhat of a nomad, Tails' home is the closest thing he has to one.

2. Unless he absolutely has to sleep it off, Sonic tries not to let his hayfever disrupt his morning run. In Green Hill, this usually results in him sneezing every ten seconds.

3. After both Storybook incidents, Sonic would eagerly tell Tails about what he experienced in the Arabian Nights and the Grand Kingdom. Tails, of course, didn't question any of it.

4. Despite their differences, he's proud of Shadow for being able to move on from his past, and become a hero in his own right. He doesn't say it out loud because he knows Shadow would brush it off in his typical Shadow way, and because he knows he doesn't really need to hear it anyway.

5. One time, Sonic mocked Zavok by calling him Bowser. Zavok did not get the joke.

6. Nowadays, Sonic and Rouge get on surprisingly well, as they have more in common than one would expect. Like getting on Knuckles' nerves on occasion, for example.

7. Much like how Amy is her big sister in spirit, Cream considers Sonic a big brother figure.

8. Sonic finds it rather insulting when someone assumes running fast is all he cares about. After all, he has various established hobbies like anyone else, such as reading.

9. He vividly remembers every single place he's been to, no matter how long or how brief he was there. Ironically for someone who doesn't look back, he reminisces on where he's explored with fondness.

10. This is a concept I'm exploring with Stellar, so I'll try not to spoil too much, but as much as Sonic enjoys fighting Eggman despite not treating him lightly (and usually making no effort to save him from situations that should have killed him), he wonders with the escalation of the doctor's plans and ambitions just how long things will last before he has to take him down permanently. Let's just say that certain events in Stellar give Sonic a harsh reminder that at the end of the day, Eggman is not any better than Black Doom, Mephiles, Erazor, etc.

11. The Emerald Coast comic where he reacts poorly to IDW Sonic is canon.

#Crusher's Asks #Opinion #Headcanon #Sonic the Hedgehog

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peetapiepita · 10 months

Text

Thoughts on what general audiences can do for the WGA and SAG strikes

I've read up a lot on the strike situation these past weeks because I'm someone who consumes A LOT OF media content. The strike will affect my daily life and I'm a curious girlie when it comes to show biz rules. So here are some of the takeaways I wanna share with my fellow audience:

1. Understand the strike

The strike is happening for 2 major reasons:

1.) The studios are refusing to pay the creators/actors residuals on streaming services.

This makes it hard for the majority of writers and actors to make a living by doing their respective jobs. They used to rely on residuals from old projects (DVD and blue-ray sales, renting, etc.) to pay bills. That's just not happening today.

To try to get out of paying residuals, the major studios started this trend this year to take old and new shows/movies off their streaming platforms and use them as an excuse for a tax write-off. Disney did this last month and got a 1.1 billion tax write-off. They can currently do that without consulting the people involved AT ALL, taking away their livelihood without warning.

2.) The studios want to retain the rights to use AI writing and performing.

In the negotiation with SAG, they proposed a plan to pay actors only one day's wage to use their AI image FOREVER without paying them ever again. And the actors wouldn't have a ground to argue that. This is straight out of Black Mirror Season 6 Joan is Awful. Netflix is really writing its own villain origin story right now.

So what would happen if the workers budge and give up mid-way?

They'll end up losing their means to survive and have their images stolen. So striking for a few months is definitely better than starving indefinitely.

What's happening right now?

Right now, no projects fiananced by AMTPT companies can film with SAG members or develop with WGA members, which means only a very small percentage of all Hollywood productions can still happen. (More to come about this.)

With finished projects, if they're being released in the next few months, they're going to be released without any promo from the actors. They can't take part in interviews, premieres, fan events, or even post about their projects on social media.

2. Help with the strike.

Now that the double strike has officially happened, what's the best outcome for the workers and the audiences?

If you're just a casual entertainment enjoyer:

Cancel the streaming services not essential to you. The studios are going to panic more when they start losing even more money.

If you're a fan of a fanchise/upcoming blockbuster:

Flood the companies behind it, demanding them negotiate with the SAG and WGA on their own and agree to a fair deal. Threat not to support the projects unless it's settled fairly.

These studios with upcoming big-budget movies are bleeding money and panicking right now, any added pressure is good.

If one company buckles, the others would follow suit.

If you have money to spare: (Congrats on being rich, btw!)

Donate to the unions and support the ones with lower income in the first place, they'd be struggling with bills if the strike goes on for too long.

For everyone:

Call out big studios who are still planning on filming projects during the strike.

Please note there are exceptions to the strike rule:

1.) Foreign productions.

Please note an actor has to be part of the foreign union to work on these. Some of the foreign unions are still in meetings to decide if they'll allow US companies to work with their members, the most notable ones being the UK one and the Canadian one. Fingers crossed they don't fall for the deals the US studios are offering.

2.) Indie productions.

Indie companies can make their own deals with the workers since they're not included in the overall deal. So a very small amount of US projects can still happen. Make sure a project doesn't fall into this category before calling them out for scabbing.

That's about it for now. I might add more later in the replies if I think of anything.

#sag strike #sag strong #sag solidarity #wga strike #wga strong #wga solidarity #support wga #support workers

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