#And then changed a couple things for stats

[rbtlvr]

& by the way i literally CONSTANTLY think about how loop uses the partys titles to create distance to remind themself that those arent 'their versions' of them. that theyre not loops party anymore. and yet and yet and yet

[galebecky97]

a tiny tav and wyll and an unfinished lae'zel for the people

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[slttygeto]

Actors on Actors | Toji Fushiguro

pairing: actor! toji x actress! reader

genre: interview style, slightly suggestive on toji's part

note: ah shit here we go again

📊 Video Stats

10M views | 350K likes | 40K comments

Convincing Toji to do this interview was as hard as his team had expected. 

The man was extremely private, always giving short answers on red carpets but they were more than enough to feed his fans. Coupled with a confident smirk of his and a proud display of the scar on his lip, the man knew he had people swooning for him. 

However, he wasn’t fond of interviews. It was evident in the way he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face and only answering when the question pertains to his character only. 

Other than that, you couldn’t get a single word out of this man.

When you heard that you were invited to be on an episode of Actors on Actors, you were both excited and nervous. Talking about yourself wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but you loved getting to know other people in the industry and bonding with them over shared experiences.

What you don’t expect is to read Toji’s name on the paper. 

“Toji?” you turn to your manager with a look of disbelief on your face. “Fushiguro Toji?”

Your manager gives you an apologetic look. She could see the anxiety brewing inside of you, and you have to place a hand over your heart to calm your nerves. 

Talking to that man was the equivalent of talking to a brick wall. There was no way this was going to be a good interview—and who thought of pairing the two of you together?

The tall, broad shouldered man sits in his changing room with the same paper in hand as his eyes land on his name. His makeup artist catches the glimpse of a smirk on his face before Toji turns to his manager.

“That’s the pretty one, right?”

His manager chuckles before placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “The one and only.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

The interview is off to an awkward start. At least from your part. 

You feel small under the gaze of such an intimidating man, putting a leg over the other and pulling down the hem of your short dress to hide as much of you as possible. That doesn’t stop Toji’s shameless gawking as the two of you shake hands.

“I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

“‘course I know who you are,” the words roll of his tongue smoothly and he watches as you purse your lips, dropping your gaze. “Fushiguro Toji”

“Very pleased to meet you.” You finally let go of his hand but you could’ve sworn that his hand lingered on top of yours a bit longer. 

When neither of you decide to speak up first, you let out a nervous chuckle while Toji turns to the filming crew with a playful smirk.

“This is fun,”

“I mean…” you trail off, smoothening the fabric of your dress. Again, his eyes land on your thigh and clear your throat.

“I’m…a really huge fan of your work.” your voice is small as you confess your admiration for his work in the industry. “I’m always amazed by your ability to get into character so quickly.”

“Watched some behind the scene footage?”

You were caught.

“Maybe…I mean it’s there!” You laugh and fortunately for you, Toji does as well as he nods. 

“Sure it is. I could say the same about you—” he gestures towards you with a genuine smile. “Great work, it’s rare to see someone so passionate in the industry nowadays.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands. “It’s-it’s nothing, I just really love acting.”

Toji braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. “How old were you when you thought of giving it a try?” 

Your back straightens up under his gaze and you avoid his eyes as you think of a response. “I was about 6 or 7 when my parents would pull out a camera during Christmas and record me recreating scenes from movies like The Wizard of Oz and The Shining.”

“The Shining?”

“I was a weird kid,” you laugh when you see the look of shock painting his features. “But yeah these two were my favorite movies of all time.”

“That’s interesting, cause in a way I can see you getting into movies like that at a young age.” 

“Really?” 

Toji really likes the glint in your eyes. 

“Mhm,” he nods as he leans back in his armchair. “Like I said I’ve seen some of your work and–” he raises his hands. “I’m a fan.”

You drop your head shyly, silently thanking him for the amount of compliments he was throwing your way. This was honestly going better than you expected, but you knew it was time to ask him questions. 

“Can I just say,” you gesture towards the man. “Your recent work absolutely blew my mind—I mean, the entire movie was just amazing but your role. Wow, just wow.” 

Toji bows down his head when you clap for him, chuckling when you go the extra mile by pretending to bow down for him. 

“That role, was it difficult to get into such a state of mind? I’ve seen many actors—including myself, who needed a much needed break from everything after a certain role. Was it the same for you or were you able to detach yourself from the role easily?”

Toji gives it a thought, taking in the fact that you had crafted this question so carefully unlike any other interview he’s ever been on before. 

“After we finished shooting, I cut off contact with most of the world for about three months straight. I moved out of my neighborhood and into an area where it was just me, the mountains and the sound of birds.”

 Toji proceeds to explain how the role was mentally taxing, how the idea of going back and doing promo for the movie seemed like a huge roadblock he needed to get over. But after lots of therapy and some much needed time off, he was able to get back on his feet. 

“I’m glad that you feel better now, the industry needs good actors like you.” You admit and Toji leans back in his armchair again with a knowing smirk.

“I could say the same about you.”

The interview proceeds smoothly, with the two of you asking each other questions back and forth. After fifty minutes, the interview comes to an end and you get up to share a well deserved goodbye hug. 

However, Toji’s arms linger a little longer around your waist and he whispers something in your ear that’s facing away from the camera.

“You look good by the way.”

Guys, the mics are still on!

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [somethingsgottagive]: DID YALL SEE THAT (6k likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: this entire interview is just toji flirting with her im losing my mind (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: ive never seen him this down bad omg??? (7,3K likes)

💬 [theboyismine]: this is the most talkative ive ever seen toji am i sensing smth (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [theboyismine]: THAT HUG???

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: THE THING HE WHISPERED???(923 likes)

💬 [albumoftheyear]: oh the internet is on FIRE (508 likes)

💬 [cmontryme]: someone check on me ive shipped them for the longest time (392 likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [cmontryme]: without a single interaction is crazy

💬 [cmontryme] replied to [sweetnsourchicken]: i’m crazy

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[varpusvaras]

A little rundown on the AU: Jason comes legally back from the dead after Roy uses some of his old contacts, they get married to ensure power of attorney, Jason changes his name to Harper both because he was feeling mushy about it and because it's easier not to immediately have press hounding them because no one has heard of Jason Harper before. Jason has been recovering from his injuries for a while now and while he is figuring out what he wants to do on a vigilante side of things, he figures out his civilian life. He gets his high school diploma, gets an actual driver's licence, things like that.

Then he wants to get a job. He starts as a regular mechanic because he knows how vehicles work. It's fine. He gets a couple of certifications. He then just. Keeps going. He gets so many mechanic certifications for different vehicles because he already knows a lot and has always been a fast learner. He eventually ends up working as an aviation mechanic for a private hangar and he gets a very good reputation with their clients because no matter what type of plane they have, he knows what's up. He also knows what's up with their cars. Their bikes. Their boats. Their helicopters? One of the clients is an army veteran. Jason knows all the stats on all of the combat vehicles the guy ever mentions.

Jason's boss and coworkers have seen all the certificates. They are all framed on the walls. They all think that Jason very clearly has either autism or adhd or both and hyperfixates on vehicles. They are all extremely supportive of his needs and will listen to him talk about books because one of them read that it's important to support their interests. They keep calling him Sheldon and making The Big Bang Theory references. Jason has no idea what they are talking about.

[tbaluver]

When They're The MC Pt.2- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader summary: when you're the love interest and he's the mc genre/tags: fluff fluff + silly + slightly suggestive a/n: hihi lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i planned on making a part 2 for this a while bc a lot of new content happened last time i made the first one! this time caleb is in this one! the first one will be linked down below if you didn't get a chance to read it hehe ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier is actually the lightest spender out of any of them. He occasionally spends a couple money on the Aurum Pass and sometimes buys the Promise whenever your cards are on there. He’ll buy a few packs here and there if he’s close to hitting pity

He would be curled up in his bed, clutching his plushie, pretending it’s you as he finishes the last chapter of your myth. He wishes the plushie he was holding was you, hoping in some way to comfort you in his head and him. He would find your story to be so beautifully written yet SO devastating. Xavier might not sleep for a couple hours after reading your lore, he’ll end up staring at his ceiling as he thinks about it again and again

Knows all about Stellactrum and how to build your character. He would know what stats your protocores need and is almost finished with you DeepSpace Trials

Wishes there was a sleeping quality time feature with you. He’s the type to tuck in his phone as your character and him go to sleep together

Places all your characters plushies on the shelf and the ones that you earned from the claw machine for your desk

The type to not wake you up whenever you’re asleep on the cafe couch. He would only talk to you when you’re up because he thinks you need your rest

Zayne:

He has a good amount of diamonds but is not afraid to splurge for you and your outfits

Lets you wear whatever outfit you want and lightly chuckles when you pull the most silliest combo ever. Sometimes when he’s playing at night he’ll change your outfit to pajamas. He’ll even take the accessories off so your character doesn’t get uncomfortable sleeping on the couch

Lore expert. Knows every single detail of your lore. He knows so much that he would notice the smallest detail in your clothing in your myth and how it connects to the story. He would love the details they put in your character

He didn’t think he could ever desire a character more deeply than he did after reading and watching your myths. You can’t tell from his face, well maybe from the way his brows furrowed and the slight frown on his lips after finishing it all, that he was going through it internally. His character and yours were doomed in each timeline and yet they both try again and again. Every detail of your story captivates him but after all that he needs to take a step away from the game and go for a walk.

He would have an organized desk with most of your things for your character rather than for his own indulgence. Places things on your desk that you might need like a tablet, or a computer, mug, a mirror, a lamp, etc, as if you were going to use the desk in game

Has literally no one to talk to about this game or your lore so he just simply likes and repost/ reblogs to posts he simply agrees on

Rafayel:

Flabbergasted. He joined this game for LOVE not DEPRESSION. Why is his mc killing you on the most important day ever? He’s literally talking to himself and swearing how he would NEVER do that to your character. He would stay in the bathtub curled up in a ball as he pouts for hours because of how sad he got from your lore. He'll let you play just a few rounds on the claw machine after reading your story.

He's wasting no time and he's poking and waking you up the moment he logs in the game

I’m sorry but he’s not letting you pick any outfits by yourself anymore after you chose the worst combo ever. He’ll give you another chance only for you to do it AGAIN. Therefore you lost all your chances to pick anything for yourself again

He would go all out on designing your desk. It would take him ages to decide where to place certain things but he wants to make sure it looked aesthetically pleasing for you

The type to glitch the poses of you and him together whether they were cute or very lewd. He knows how to work the lighting and the perfect angles for you and his character, making him have the most aesthetically pleasing photos out of anyone in the game

He doesn’t like how there’s 5 characters on the banners now and it’s not because he hates the other love interests but because it feels like the more characters there are, the more he’s losing his chances on bringing you home on a 50/50

Will scold you in the cafe when you don’t come home early or at all

Has the Aurum pass and the Heartfelt Vow Promise, only if the base for his title looks pretty. Also would just have a pretty profile in general

Y/N defender for life. People often misunderstand your character SO much from the main storyline saying how you abandoned him and you’re a meanie for selling him out. He’s not afraid to correct people and give them the right information.

Sylus:

Most definitely got your myth pair to R3 for the outfits because you looked absolutely badass in your ripped clothing. He does not need to worry about any upcoming banners from how much he already spent in this game. It doesn't even hurt his bank account

Never in his life did he think he would find such a character or your story to be so captivating and beautifully written, leaving him to feel so empty when he reached the end of your myth. However he did scoff when he saw the kiss scene in your myth fade out. As the myth reached its conclusion, he let out a deep sigh, staring at the screen until his reflection appeared on his phone, reflecting everything that just happened.

The type to immediately switch his nickname once he heard there was finally an update. He wanted to hear what you sounded like calling him sweetie, honey, baby, etc. It was just simply adorable that he caught himself smiling at his screen

He would get bored of the game so fast when he finishes the daily activities and finishes playing kitty cards and claw machines with you. He thinks there’s not much to do other than events and he already finished all your content and grinded whatever material he needs for you so there was nothing else to do.

Sometimes he’ll come back just to poke you and hear your voice and sometimes he’ll mess around in the glint photobooth to imagine more things with you.

Has a LOT of pictures of you and him together. Spends a lot of time in the glint photo booth especially after they updated it with new poses and the gazes. A couple photos found in his gallery are his characters in between your legs on the cafe couch

Takes a while decorating your office and hangs up his favorite pictures of you and him all over the hangs or the walls.

Would flex his R3 five star memories of you on his profile. They would all be maxed out

The type to actually use the mic feature whenever the game lets him use it to sing happy birthday or any other song depending on the event or any other card

Caleb:

Caleb had the game in the beginning to try it out and loved your character in the beginning only for them to yk...BOOM

But your character looked suspiciously a little too good for them to be an ‘npc’ so he was one of the strongest soldiers out there that waited weeks and months for you to be a confirmed love interest. He literally fought for his life in this fandom and he won at the end when you finally got released

Finally he has more content of you than just those four scenes

Day 1 Y/N Wanter and now Day 1 Y/N Haver

Was so into you being protective and possessive over him in the storyline. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants after you said that. He folded when you wanted to keep him there where you only wanted him for yourself. If only there was an ending for that option. 

Anyways, reading more into your lore and myths, he continued to feel bad for you. The way you had to go through so many things made his heart ache for you, if only your character could see the puppy eyes he had the entire time. One of the things he loved about his relationship with his mc’s relationship with yours was how they felt like a perfect match. He adored the storyline and how it conveyed and captured the nature of their bond, their love, the fear, and everything else. It only made him yearn for your character more.

It was already the first day of your release and he already almost has all your outfits. He didn't really spend money on this game before until you released. He just didn’t have enough chocolates to get the rest of them

He loves the 4 star cards with his mc and you but he gets jealous whenever he sees them together. Yes that is the mc but that’s not him. He wishes it was him instead

Most definitely jerks off to you working out and strokes to the smallest sounds you make. That small little gasp and whimper you make when he teases you in the cafe? Or just ANY sounds you make in general? Oh his cock is twitching in his pants. Sometimes he’d just cream his pants immediately

He'd actually take your suggestions and actually go out and try what you suggest to eat. Sometimes he'll just even cook it himself

He'd also use the workout feature to actually work out so he'd already have your workout outfit once 30 days passed

The type to get shy and flustered whenever he looks up and catches you making eye contact with him whenever he uses the work/ study feature

Bonus (ALL ): They all HATE the Wanderers that LOCK their health during a battle and the ones that do an animation before you can attack them.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ first part if you havent read it! it's only all four of them tho bc caleb wasn't out yet! ( xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus ) When They're The Mc

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist Pg. 2

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain (Boxer!Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: I dreamed about this idea and my time of the month fueled it.

Please Enjoy <3

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy kink (because Im me), light spanking, big dick Eddie Munson :P, etc.

ANGST, reader meets the boxer while on a date with someone else, mentions of pain from the ring but nothing too dramatic, reader and Eddie mentions just getting out of relationships, nothing negative is mentioned about Y/N size <3. All positive and Eddie thinks she's perfect :). CLIFFHANGER ENDING 😈

Word Count: 4753

Other Eddie Stories here/ Donate to Me

"When I look into your eyes

I can see a love restrained

But darlin' when I hold you

Don't you know I feel the same?"

“Paige, I hate you. This guy is the worst.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad! Lol. Where did he take you?”

“A boxing match.”

“NO! Lol. Oh my god. I hate boxing and how the fuck are you supposed to talk there?”

“He’s taking me to a bar after.”

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead :P.”

“Love you to, dork.”

“Who are you talking to?”, your blind date asks as he lightly nudges you with his shoulder. 

“Paige. I’m just telling her how nice you are and that you haven’t murdered me yet.”

“Ha! Well, the night’s still young.”, he laughed causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, not out of fear but annoyance that he thought that was the appropriate thing to say to someone he only met an hour ago.

When your friend and roommate suggested you go on this blind date you originally declined. You had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship and wasn’t in the mood to dive back in. After a couple of lonely (and needy) nights, you changed your tune. 

She insisted he was a nice guy she knew from work and he absolutely was but it didn’t overshadow his awkward personality. When he suggested coming to a boxing match, you were actually intrigued thinking it was an out of the box idea instead of going to the movies or dinner. As the small arena began to fill, you found yourself more fascinated by the people around you casually talking about one of the fighters. 

Eddie Munson was a “veteran” in the field, being a bit older than most boxers in the ring. He had won multiple matches but for whatever reason managers and venues didn’t take him seriously. The kid he was fighting had many accolades and higher stats but his wins matched his opponents from the pamphlet you skimmed through while you two waited. 

As the lights lowered and both men were introduced into the ring, you couldn’t help but focus on the older boxer. He was extremely handsome with his sharp jaw and intense, piercing eyes that commanded attention. His chest and muscular arms were littered with tattoos that accented his physique perfectly.  

With all the cheering and commotion around the ring, you were surprised when his eyes landed on you. He tried to look away but you noticed his gaze kept lingering back to where you were sitting. Trying not to appear intimidated, you smirked his way and leaned back in your seat where your date’s arm was strewn along the back. The boxer slowly took you in, scanning along the short sleeve black dress that clung tightly to your busty chest and large curves. Your high heeled shoe absently tapped the air as he glanced down your legs and back up to your face. 

Someone you assumed was his coach, tapped his shoulder and forced him to focus as he screamed instruction into his ear. Rising to his feet, the person took his robe before he headed for the middle of the ring. On his short stride, his gaze shifted towards you again making your smile grow as you silently mouth the words “Good Luck.”

Eddie jumps slightly as the announcer’s voice flows loudly near him startling him as you giggle and he shakes his head.

***

“Yeah so I do contracting at this firm and it’s so stupid but…”

You don’t know if your date notices but your eyes had begun to glaze over as he spoke. Your date seemed like a nice enough guy but was definitely not your cup of tea. The one thing you feared about dating again was mundane shit that came with casual conversation. You always wished you could skip over this part and get to the moment where you were comfortable again. 

“I feel like I’m droning on and on. Tell me about you.”

“Oh…um…there’s not much to tell really.”

“Of course there is. Tell me about your job, your family, everything!”, he chuckles a bit too enthusiastically as you try to hide your cringe behind your smile. 

“Excuse me, miss. Telephone for you.”, the bartender interrupts as he points at his phone near the end of the counter.

“Oh, thank you. Excuse me.”

After hopping down from your stool, you make your way to the telephone and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“I thought maybe I’d give you a minute of peace from chatty Cathy.”, the smooth voice on the other end laughs. 

“Hm. How do you know I wasn’t enjoying the chat?”, you ask as your eyes fleet around the bar.

“Well first off, you were way too eager to get away. I mean you didn’t even ask who was calling. Add in the fact that your face is worth a thousand words, sweetheart.”

It takes you another few seconds before you find your mystery caller leaning against the wall by the front door on his cell phone. The long-haired boxer’s grin grew when your eyes met his as his subtly waved his fingers in your direction. 

“Wanna get out of here?”

“I’m in the middle of date. I can’t just leave.”, you tease knowing full well you’d let him kidnap you if that meant leaving this date behind.

“There’s only so long you can keep up this rouse before he starts getting suspicious so I would make a decision quickly.”

“Pfft, his brain doesn’t move that fast.”

The man’s laugh echoed into your ear straight to your heart as you blushed, glad that you had the ability to make someone laugh like he just had. 

“Honey, a woman as beautiful as you in that sexy dress shouldn’t be bored out of her mind. She should be having her mind blown.”

“And you’re the man to do that?”

“I’d like to try if you give me the chance. I have a feeling you’re not easy to please like all these other giggly girls and I like a challenge.”

“Smooth, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle.

“Ah, so you were there to see me fight.”

“No, sir. It was just a happy accident.”

“Ooooo sir. I like that. You can just call me Eddie for right now though.”

“I prefer the term Daddy.”

It was no longer subtle that the two of you were staring at each other from across the bar. His breathing stutter slightly and you bit your bottom lip to force them to remain still even though you wanted to smirk his way. 

“Y/N? Everything alright?”, your date asked as he placed himself in the chair next to where you were standing. 

“Y/N.”, Eddie repeated as if he was trying to familiarize himself with your name. When you didn’t reply, your date’s palm reaches out to slide down your arm and take your hand in his. “I’m counting every second he touches you. That’s how many times I’m going spank you for allowing it.”

A tear runs down your cheek and you see regret flash through his eyes, worried he may have gone too far before he sees you hang up the phone and pull your hand from your date’s grasp. 

“I have to go. My brother was in-in an accident.”, you cry as you make a beeline to where the boxer was standing near the coat check desk. “Excuse me.”, you murmur as your arm brushes chest, the contact sending a little electricity through you both. 

“No problem.”, he mumbles as he turns to leave, making sure the back of his hand grazes yours as he does. 

“Do you want me to drive you—”

“No, no its ok. My sister lives close by so she’s going to pick me up. She’s the one that called.”

“Ok, well, let me at least wait with you.”

“Alright. You pay and I’ll wait outside.”

After he nods, you sprint outside to find Eddie sitting on a motorcycle offering you a helmet. 

“Really?”, you sass as you take it from his hand and slide it onto your head. 

“Psh like you don’t like it.”

Revving the engine, you cling to his waist as he drives off into the night.

***

Your eyebrow raises as pulls up to a gym and sifts through his pockets to search for his keys. 

“Yeah, um, welcome to my humble abode for the time being.”

“You live in a gym?”

“I live in the back of a gym. Big difference.”

“Oh absolutely.”, you jest as you allow him to lead you inside. “I would figure with how good of a fighter you are, you’d have Rocky 4 levels of riches.”

Again, he cackles as he throws his head back and in that moment, you started to realize you would do anything to continue hearing that sound. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone from your generation mention such an old movie.”

“It’s not that old and neither are you.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”, he smiles as he opens another door in the back and gestures you inside. “I kind of started boxing a bit late in the game compared to everyone else around me. Some of these kids have been doing it their whole lives and I only started training 10 years ago.”

As you take in his little room, Eddie heads to his mini fridge to grab a couple of beers. You could tell, he hadn’t been here long, living out of a suitcase for the time being. 

“How long are you stuck here?”

“I actually just got an apartment so I move in, in about a month.”

“What happened to your last place?”

Eddie smiles as he hands you one of the bottles in his hand. 

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m inquisitive.”, you smirk back as tilt the beer to clink with his before taking a sip. “I need to know if this is where you take your hookups to hide from your wife.”

“What makes you think I’m married?”

“Huh.”, you muse as you take a seat on his couch/bed. “Most men would immediately deny. ‘Oh, no, baby! I’m not married. I swear.’”

The boxer rushes forward as you speak to hastily move his sheets and pillow on to another chair before taking a seat beside you. 

“I’m, um, no I’m not married.”, he chuckles nervously. “Full transparency, I actually just got out of relationship so if I seem…awkward…that’s why.”

“I think you’re doing alright.”, you smile as you turn to face him getting more comfortable and he does the same. “Better than chatty Cathy.”

Again, he laughs and again you swoon. 

“If it makes you feel better I just got out of a two-year relationship myself.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. How long has it been?”

“A few months.”

“Geez and you’re already dating?” When you don’t laugh like he does, Eddie panics as you sip your beverage. “No, that came out wrong. I just meant that you’re doing better than me. It’s been a year since I’ve even seen my ex and dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. Fuck, I sound like an idiot.”

Your giggle pierces his heart and he melts in relief. 

“No, you don’t. May I ask what made you find the confidence to ask me over?”

“I saw you from the ring and thought you were a fucking angel I’d never see again. When I walked into the bar and saw you, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.”

“Wow. Smooth again, Mr. Munson.”

“I thought you preferred Daddy.” You blushed as your head dipped, trying to hide your eyes but his callused fingers quickly reached out to grab your chin forcing you to look at him again. “This…This goes without saying but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk or—”

Your lips on his interrupted his gentlemanly speech before tilting back slightly so your mouth wasn’t far but you could still see his face. 

“Do I make you nervous, Daddy?”

“Fuuuuuuuck.”, Eddie whispers as both palms cup your cheeks. “I don’t want t-to disappoint you.”

Slowly, you crawl over him till your straddling his lap and take hold of his hands to guide them to your wide hips.

“You won’t, baby, but if this isn’t something you’re into—”

“No, no, no. I’m into it.”, he rushes making you giggle as his face flushes with embarrassment at his earnestness. “My ex wasn’t… she tried for me a couple of times but...”

“You never really fully got to take control?”

��I told you it’s been a while since I’ve dated but it’s been even longer since I was able to be Daddy.”

“Sounds lonely.” His head tilts to the side at your statement as his brows furrow. “People don’t understand it but when I’m in my little girl headspace I feel safe when I’m with the right partner. It’s natural for me sometimes when I’m intimate to slip into that mode and if I was with someone who couldn’t satisfy that… I would feel lonely…like I did something wrong.”

When your eyes meet his again, Eddie’s smiling up at you with a softness you appreciate. 

“Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”

His body shakes as he laughs and you feel the energy in the room lighten. 

Comfortable.

Bringing your lips to his, he reciprocates with more confidence.

“Take your time and ease back into it.”, you whisper. 

You continue to grind against him as you murmur soft words in his ear and his hands roam your back. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he lifts it up your body and groans as his eyes hungrily take you in. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” Smirking, you slide off him, your eyes never leaving his as you remove your panties and toss them at his chest. “Leave your shoes on and crawl to Daddy, baby.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, his confidence in the title starting to return. Sinking to your knees, you do as he says making him groan as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles allowing his cock to spring free. 

As he spits into his hand and strokes himself, you pause. 

“Jesus. You’re so fucking big.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growls causing your head to snap at attention. “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve just…” You continue to crawl forward till your hands balance on his knees. “…never had a dick as big as yours inside me. I-I don’t know if it will fit.”

“Shit. It’ll fit, pretty girl. We’ll make it fit. You just have to get it nice and wet.”

After nodding in agreement, he hisses as your hand wraps around him and the tip of your tongue darts out to lick the little beads of precum that had begun to leak out.

“Goddamn it, Y/N.”

Opening your mouth wide, you test the waters and bob your head taking half of him as you allow your tongue to swirl around his head along his slit. 

“T-That’s it, baby.”, Eddie pants as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to get a better look at you’re doing. “Good girl. Your mouth feels so…so good. Try and take more, sweetheart.”

You do as he asks and promptly gag as your throat constricts around him. 

“Fuck! That’s it. Take it, baby. Choke on Daddy’s cock. Let m-me help.” Holding you tightly, you allow him to use you as he thrusts his hips and his dick hits the back of your throat. “There we go. Mouth open, flat tongue. So fucking beautiful taking my dick like this.”

Tears spill, smearing your make up as he lets you go and you take in big gulps of air. Grasping your cheeks, he kisses your lips as his thumbs wipe away the stains under your eyes. 

“Such a good girl… so good for me. I should have asked but do you have a safe word? Is Red still a good one?”

Eddie smiles as you breathily laugh and give him a peck before climbing up his lap to straddle him again. 

“Red is still good.”

“Turn around, sweetheart.”

After doing what he says, your whole body melts into his slightly sweaty chest as his arms wrap around you. Gripping the base of his shaft, you shutter as he slides his cock between your folds, teasing your clit with his tip. 

“You’re so wet, little girl, fuck. Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”

“Yes. Please.” Lifting your hips to help guide him, the boxer begins to gradually push himself inside of you. “Oh…f-fuck…”

“Are you ok?”, he whispers in your ear as you fully fall back against him. 

“Yeah, yeah. It…feels so good…so big. Mmnah!”, you whine as he slowly thrusts in another inch stretching you open. 

“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. Take your time.  We have all night, honey.” 

Your half lidded eyes watch as he runs his tongue along his fingers before bringing them down to massage circles against your clit, feeling your pussy flutter and allowing him more leeway as you both groan feeling your lap finally connect with his. 

“You’re—mmph—so fucking tight.”

Experimentally, you roll your hips and the moan that leaves his lips has your eyes rolling as you do it again. You know his fingers gripping your love handles will leave bruises as he starts to guide you but you don’t care as you suck hickies into his neck, smiling at the vibration as he groans. 

“Bounce, pretty girl. Fuck me hard.”

Balancing your hands on his knees, your head lulls forward as you bounce on top of him, mewling repetitive ahs as he slams into that sensitive spot inside you. His palm comes down hard on your ass as he continues to knead his fingers into the plump flesh. 

“God, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you are. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. Make—fuck—make yourself cum on my cock.”

Falling back against him, his wide lust filled eyes watch as one of your arms comes around to cling to the back of his neck as your other brings your hand to massage your breast. Eddie had never met a woman like you before and was pretty sure he would never meet again. 

Even with his ex, she used to be pretty open minded but never seemed to carry the kind of confidence you did. He knew when he saw you from the ring that you were different but he had promised himself he would focus on his career for the time being before jumping into anything new relationship wise. 

But how could he let you walk out that door tomorrow morning and let you go?

Your body trembled against him and he grunted as your cunt gripped his cock as you came. You rode out your high and the feeling made him almost feral as he picked you up to move you both the floor.

With his hand firmly holding the back of your neck smushing your cheek into the floor, Eddie thrust into you with rough abandon as you fell apart beneath him. 

“Oh my Goooooood. So fucking deep.”

Twisting his hand to curl his fingers in your hair, he yanked you closer to his chest and slowed his pace but not his intensity as his skin slapped obscenely into yours.

“Does my dick feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yeeeeesss—mmmah!”

“Tell me. Tell Daddy how much this tight little pussy loves my cock.”

“Y-Your cock feels so good, Daddy. My pussy was made for you.” As you spoke, his forehead rested against your cheek as his eyes shut and he found his rhythm again. “I want to feel you cum inside me, baby please.”

His eyes snapped open as he scanned your face realizing immediately you were telling the truth. 

“Don’t—Don’t say shit like that, little girl, unless you mean it.”

“P-P-Please, Daddy. I promise I’m safe. I need you to fill me up. I need to feel how good my pussy made you feel.”

“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grunted, pulling out and aggressively flipping you over onto your back before guiding himself back inside you. 

Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist and he pounded into you knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m—fuck—M’gonna cum again. Cum with me.”

Balancing on his palms, his chocolate irises took in all of your beautiful features as they contorted in pleasure. It had been so long since he made a woman feel this good and he desperately wanted to please you. Your palms massaged along his slightly sore arms and his chest, gliding effortlessly over his bruises that were beginning to form from his fight earlier that night. 

None of that mattered. 

Every ache and pain he carried from the ring, disappeared as soon as you touched him and all he could focus on was the warmth that was you. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”

Circling your arms around him, you pulled him against your body, needing to absorb him as he rolled his hips, grunting in your ear till you felt his release warm you deeper than any man you had before. The whine Eddie made as his fingers clung to your hair was enough to have the coil snap for the final time that night as your pussy tried to milk everything he had to give. 

You both laid there together silently intertwined for a good long while as you tried to catch your breaths. 

“Are you ok?”, you whisper.

Pushing up onto his elbows, his hand moves some stray hairs away from your sweaty face as he softly smiles down at you. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, a little sore.”, you answer as your eyes gesture between your bodies. 

“Shit, ok, um, I’ll go slow. Ready?” When you nodded, as gently as he could, he pulled out of your aching cunt, cooing praise at you as you winced. “Good. Good girl. We, um, I don’t have a shower in here but there are locker rooms with showers if you want or we can stay here of course.”

“I’d like to shower, please.”

The way you said please told him you were still coming down from that headspace causing your words to echo in his brain about how lonely it can be being stuck there and not being taken care of properly. 

Rising to his feet, he hastily helped you to yours before taking you in his arms and caring you to the locker room. 

“Thank you. I’m not too heavy?”

“Not at all, princess.”

You watch his face as he turns on the water and makes cute little faces as the cold water hits his hand first before steaming up the area. As he cleaned your skin, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth making a little giggle fall from yours. 

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”, you smile. “You’re just really adorable.”

“Thank you? I think.”, he grins as he comes up to kiss your forehead.

After you’re both clean and back in his room, he pulls out the couch to turn it into a bed and places you on it before you notice him pause. 

“I, um, I just assumed you’d be falling asleep here. I’m sorry. Did…did you need to get home?”

“Um…” You meant what you said when it came to relationships. You weren’t ready to jump into a new one and when you let him bring you home you told yourself this was just going to be a onetime thing but you couldn’t deny there was something about this man that made you feel safe. Maybe you could just take things slow and see where it led. “No, I can stay.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Throwing one his shirts over your frame, you laughed as he pulled on his boxers and obnoxiously jumped into bed.

With your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, the two of you talked till the sun slowly began to rise outside his window. 

##################

“I thought you were dead!”, Paige shouted as she lightly pushed your arm before getting up to hug you when she saw you walk into the restaurant you two were supposed to be meeting at. “You didn’t text me or anything and when I woke up you weren’t home.”

“I know! I’m so sorry. I got caught up with someone…”, you grin as your eyes bashfully meet hers.

“Oh, tell me everything.”

The two of you giggle as you regale her with the story of the previous night’s events as you swoon over the older boxer you met. 

“Ugh, well I’m glad something good came from boxing.”, she sassed, sticking out her tongue for emphasis. 

“Good lord, what is it with you and boxing? Were you once a fighter who lost her dream when another fighter broke your neck?”

“No, you movie nerd.”, she laughs. “My dad’s a boxer. I mean I guess you can call him that. He’s a mechanic but decided randomly to start training to fight.”

“Your dad the deadbeat?”

“Yeah. He went training 24/7 and it killed my mother. They stopped spending time together and when they were together they fought constantly. One day a few months ago, he was just gone and next thing I know they are getting a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry, Paige. I know how hard divorce is on a family.”

“He’s supposed to meet me today to get some more of his things. He doesn’t have a place right now and begged my mom to hold his stuff till he found something. I guess he’s won a good amount of matches because he told her the other day he’d saved enough money to finally move. My mom refuses to see him so I’m the messenger I guess.”

“Do you want me to lag behind so I can be your reason to leave? ‘Oh here’s my roommate. We have to go.’”, you joke.

“My saint. Would you please? Op, speak of the goddamn devil.”, she sighs as she flashes you her phone screen. “I’ll meet you outside.”

As she walks outside, you hurry to pay so she’s not alone for too long. Paige was a wonderful roommate and an even better friend. When you met her, you had just had your breakup and nowhere to go. She was sympathetic to your plight and helped you at your absolutely lowest. She got you get back on your feet and now after meeting Eddie, maybe things were finally on the right track again. 

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart. I can drive down there and get my things myself. She shouldn’t be asking you to be the ‘middleman’. This is between me and your mother.”

“I don’t mind doing it after what you did to her. Imagine how she’d feel if you showed up covered in hickeys. Hide that shit better.”, Paige shouted as she slammed her trunk closed and her father lifted the collar of his jacket. “Whatever doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters to you now is yourself and your dreams, you fucking asshole.”

“Paige, please. Can we just talk so I can explain some things—”

“No, we can’t. My roommates here and we need to go home. Right, Y/N?”, she growls as she turns to face you. 

Your eyes widen as you come face to face with Paige’s “deadbeat” father. Eddie seems equally as surprised as his jaw falls open. 

“Th-This is the girl you moved in with?”, he whispered.

“What do you care? She’s my friend and mom loves her. Come on, Y/N.”

As your roommate, grips your arm and pulls you to her car, you struggle to take your eyes off the older man as his own irises sullenly follow.

Of course. How could I be so stupid to think things would get better? I should have refused the blind like I wanted to. If I had this would never have happened. I’m a fucking idiot. 

As Eddie watches his daughter speed away with the angel he met last night, he pulled the piece of paper you left by his nightstand with your phone number and a note saying you needed to meet your roommate for lunch but you would talk to him later. 

His heart fell into his stomach as the notion ran through his head that you may never want to speak with him again. 

################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot

[moonstruckme]

Omg holiday fics… I need a Steve and reader under the mistletoe fic (bonus points if like enemies/rivals/frenemies to lovers vibe??) like I need air to breathe

Ahh I missed him! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: alcohol

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

It’s virtually the same as every party you went to in high school, save for the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Try as Scott’s girlfriend might, she cannot, in your opinion, successfully call this a Christmas party. 

She has made a valiant effort, though. There’s an option of spiked eggnog sitting on the counter beside the cooler of beers, tinsel glitters around the railing of the stairway, and a grocery store cheese plate really adds a bit of class to the center of the coffee table. Unfortunately, the class is sort of nullified by all the bro-ey yelling coming from the beer pong tournament Scott’s holding in the basement. 

“That’s McCreedy,” Steve tells you as a particularly loud whoop comes from downstairs. 

You reach for a piece of swiss, suppressing your smile. “You sound confident.” 

“It’s him. Wait a sec, he’s gonna do his signature yell.” He holds up a hand, ear cocked in anticipation. 

A moment later, a testosterone-fuelled, “Whoo! That’s what I’m talking about,” sounds from the basement. 

You hastily swallow your cheese, covering your mouth to hide your laugh. Steve looks very pleased with himself. 

“Every time he scored a basket for four years,” he explains. 

“Oh my god.” Your laughter is difficult to quell when Steve looks so delighted to have brought it about. You think, not for the first time tonight, that you never expected to be having this good a time with Steve Harrington. “Are we going to be subjected to that all night?” 

Steve grimaces. “Depends. He’s not very good, but if he’s playing someone who also sucks…” 

“Is this the part where you tell me that if you were in there he’d be losing?” You’re a bit surprised at the flirtation in your own tone, but you don’t backtrack. 

“No.” He smiles. “That would be arrogant and braggy.” 

“Not to mention predictable,” you tack on. 

“Right. I’ve been told, uh, that’s not really the best way to get nice girls to like me.” 

You pick up your cup, hiding a smile behind the rim as you take a sip. You’ll have to send a fruit basket to whoever taught him that lesson. The Steve Harrington you knew in high school was absolutely that conceited. He knew he was handsome and charming, and the fact that he knew was enough for you to stay away. He never fell short on girls who wanted him for those things anyway. You didn’t think of Steve much then, only with vague annoyance when he wrapped your teachers around his finger or made your friends ditch you on a Friday night so they could go to one of his basketball games, and then you’d graduated and happily never thought of him again. Until tonight, when you’d shown up for a friend-of-a-friend’s so-called Christmas party and here he was. 

This Steve Harrington seems different from the one you knew. His signature hairstyle has changed, for one thing. It’s grown out a bit, less coiffed, more fluffy. A couple of strands fall into his eyes which he keeps combing back in a way that you hate to find endearing but unfortunately do. He seems to walk more than he saunters, now, too. His mouth doesn’t hold so much smugness in its tilt. This Steve is (seemingly) more interested in talking to you than trying to get you to play seven minutes in heaven or recounting his basketball stats or going to play beer pong with his friends who he claims aren’t his friends anymore. He looks you in the eyes like he’s interested in what you have to say and smiles when you smile.

“I’m going to go get a refill.” You stand with your cup. “Want anything?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Steve picks up his beer, long since empty. “I’ll come with you.” 

For all the self-respect that had kept you immune to him throughout high school, it’s hard not to feel flattered by Steve’s attention tonight. Your face heats as he trails you into the kitchen, not even a full step behind as you go inside. 

“Ooooh!” 

You stop. It’s Sasha, Scott’s girlfriend and the party’s true host, who’s oohed at you, but everyone in the kitchen has turned to look. 

“What?” you ask. 

Nancy Wheeler is refilling the punch bowl of eggnog with another girl you almost recognize. She gives you a look that borders on sympathetic. “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she tells you. 

You and Steve look up at the same time. Taped to the ceiling above the entryway, like a trap hunters lay in the woods, is a small sprig of green tied with red ribbon. 

You look at Steve. He’s already looking at you. 

“I…”

“No.” Steve’s tone could nearly be called scoffing. “No way. That’s stupid, anyone who walks in is gonna be under it.” 

“Only people who walk in together,” corrects Sasha. It’s clear she’s been waiting for her trap to spring all night. 

Steve shakes his head. “It’s stupid,” he says again. “Right, Robs?” 

He looks to the girl sitting on the counter by Nancy—Robin, you remember her now, she was a couple years below you in school—seemingly for support. 

“Uhh, right,” Robin fumbles. Nancy gives her an amused look. “It’s a stupid tradition, which, by the way, we only do because some old Greek guys thought it would promote fertility, so. It’s sexist, or something.”

Steve nods, satisfied. 

“Still,” says Nancy, a smile playing on the ends of her lips, “it is a tradition.” 

With Nancy’s hand gracing hers, Robin seems to have no rebuttal for that. 

“It’s a bullshit tradition.” Steve reaches into the cooler, not looking at what drinks he grabs before ushering you back out of the kitchen. “Come on.” 

You feel like you have whiplash going back to the couch. Steve’s gotten you both sodas, condensation still dripping off the one he presses into your hand. The tab cracks and hisses as he pops his open. 

“Sorry about that.” He still seems piqued. “I didn’t know we were gonna get ambushed like that.” 

“It’s okay. How could you know?” you reply airily. You crack open your own can, not thinking to check what it is until it hits your tongue. Ginger ale, fizzy and light. “I didn’t know that about the origin of mistletoe.” 

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles drily. “Me neither.” 

“Robin seems really smart.” 

“I’m, like, eighty percent sure she made that up on the spot. But yeah, she’s smart.” 

“Well, I’m just glad we didn’t perpetuate a sexist tradition.” 

You say it lightly, but there’s an odd weight in your chest. You are glad that you didn’t kiss in the kitchen in front of everyone, that Steve hadn’t pressured you like everyone else, but part of you wishes he’d been a little less adamant in his refusal. It’s silly, you know. You don’t think you’d actually want to kiss anyone under those circumstances, so public and contrived, but still. It stings just a little. 

“Do you and Robin hang out a lot?” you ask, trying perhaps a bit too hard to sound casual and disinterested. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, those couple of strands falling out of line again and into his eyes. “But, you know, we’re just friends. We work together.” 

You raise your eyebrows, disbelieving. 

“Really,” he laughs. “She’s—it’s not like that. Super not like that.” 

“Okay,” you say, believing him. But you’re not done teasing him yet, you decide. “You hang out with a lot of high schoolers, Harrington?” 

Steve guffaws. “Hey, we’re just friends! And Robin’s only a couple of years behind us.” 

You pause, sensing there’s more. “But…” you prompt. 

Steve huffs a laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s not weird, okay?” 

“Okay.” You settle in. “Tell me.” 

He interrupts himself repeatedly to insist again that it’s not weird, and you don’t doubt him, the look that comes over his face when he talks about the kids fond and brotherly. He gives them free rentals from the video store he works at with Robin, helps them navigate high school drama and crushes, and drives them places when their parents won’t. When you call him a pro bono babysitter, Steve laughs and says, That’s exactly what it is. 

It’s sweet to see how much he cares about these kids, to hear him talk about them like they’re pests he has to wrangle and put up with while smiling like he wouldn’t have it any other way. The Steve you knew in high school didn’t seem to care about much of anyone apart from himself. This Steve is overflowing with sincerity, kinder and braver and more genuinely funny than you remember him. When he offers you a ride home, you accept. 

You don’t bother zipping your coat for the walk to the car. There’s salt on the porch, but still you walk carefully, wary of ice. 

“Hey,” Steve says before you can go down the steps. 

You glance back at him, and he’s looking up. 

“Look.” 

You tilt your head back too. Hung on a string above the entrance to the porch, tied in a red ribbon just like the one in the kitchen, is a sprig of mistletoe. 

“Two?” You laugh, turning towards Steve. “Doesn’t that seem like—” 

His lips capture yours. 

The first press is greedy, overeager, but after a second of you standing still in surprise he starts to back away. His lips leave an impression of warmth on yours. They part on an apology. 

You shake your head, reaching for him. “Wait.” 

The material of his jacket is slippery underneath your fingers, and his lips find yours with the same warmth they left with. Steve kisses confidently, like you knew he would, but also with a curiosity you didn’t expect. His lips close and part over yours like he’s asking, entreating, trying to draw something out. You don’t know that you have the answer, but you kiss his cupid’s bow in consolation. He brings his hands to the curve of your back, squeezing before letting go. 

Your breath puffs in the cold air. “I thought…I thought it was a bullshit tradition.” 

“It’s only bullshit when it’s in a room full of people,” he says. 

You laugh, again surprised at how easily he coaxes it out of you but not as much as you’d been at the beginning of the night. You think Steve’s going to be making you laugh a lot now.

[cambion-companion]

Baldur's Gate 3 Characters with Virgin Reader

18+ only obviously. Dirty headcanons under the cut. (these are all the "good" endings btw

Halsin would honestly be a little in awed shock when you tell him. He'd treat you tenderly, go slowly and save the more rough lovemaking once you're accustomed to his...girth.

There is a lot of emotional connection that goes into the intimate act and knowing its his partner's first time would mean a great deal to him, he takes the perceived responsibility seriously.

Yall would have to go slow though, to accomodate the guy's size. Has strength as his dump stat yet is built like a brick house.

He's all for the game of seduction, especially if he is still unsure of where he stands with you and your party.

When discovering you're a virgin he acts the part, flirting and using honeyed words to manipulate your heart.

However as the two of you grow closer his feelings also change and he feels anxious about knowing he has your utter consent before taking things further.

He knows what it feels like to be used and wants to avoid causing you the same hurt and feelings of doubt, because against all odds he has begun to care for you.

So much foreplay...SO much foreplay. And you can be in whatever position you want, it's all about your comfort when the time comes to be intimate.

yeah she'd tease you at first, all in good fun, but still she has to get those sharp words in somewhere.

Soon enough the teasing gives way to concerned questions, not probing too deep into your feelings, but enough to give her hints as to how comfortable you feel with her.

We all know Shadowheart is a slow burn romance, so expect a long buildup while your relationship blossoms.

Lots of sweet kisses and witty flirtations, respecting each other's space until the time feels right to take it to the next level.

perhaps it's after one of your many swimming lessons where you Shadowheart takes the reins and becomes the teacher of a different kind of lesson.

She'd be asking questions throughout, listening to your responses and making sure everything is perfect and you're not feeling rushed.

Oh she would be so sweet. You know how Karlach is usually quite boisterous and tends toward the goofy side.

She'd sober up right quick when you discuss something so personal with her and she'd be quite pleased you decided to share this with her.

She promises to take it easy on you, at least at first wink wink, and she has the idea to allow you full control to explore her body as much as you wish.

Feel her heart, or at least where her heart used to be, it blazes hotter under your touch.

She might pop the occasional sweet joke, but her eyes and her care is on you the whole time.

She will ask if now is okay, and make sure to gain your express verbal permission before touching your body herself.

She is gentle at first, as promised, but it becomes hard for her to contain her enthusiasm as your coupling progresses. Remind her if you deem it necessary.

Gale, he'd be surprised but I think pleased.

He would want you to feel comfortable with him, and thus would info dump about his Tressym and the many books he's read about magic and the weave.

It's all about words of affirmation and quality time with Gale, he wants to show you and tell you how much you truly mean to him and reaffirm it is you, not Mystra, with whom is explosive heart now lies.

When the night comes, because he does prefer the romance of a star filled sky, he would ask you if you wish to become one with him.

Maybe astral sex is too soon for the first night, but you can certainly accept when he no doubt extends that offer.

I think it's pretty much canon that she beats the shit out of you when yall have intimate time...that wouldn't change on account of your virginity.

You'd tell her you're a virgin and she might not even know what that means, I wouldn't be surprised. Either that or she truly does not understand why you think it's important to mention.

She would encourage you to take initiative and assume a more dominant role, prodding you (probably with a stick) if you got too shy.

Later on, in her storyline when she becomes more of an individual unto herself, she will understand the softer aspects of lovemaking.

Then she will be more willing to empathize with the feelings that must come with a first-time coupling, and act a little slower accordingly.

Still prepare yourself for the occasional impatient "tchuk".

are you kidding, he'd be the ultimate gentleman.

He'd definitely get you a picnic and take you somewhere that smells better than the party camp and that stew Gale attempted to make for supper.

I feel like he'd be more forward than Gale or Karlach, wanting to feel some semblance of peace that your body and your affection could offer.

He'd for sure be drawn to your inexperience, feeling a sense of protectiveness overcome him. (yes yes I understand this post is full of innuendo)

Might wax poetic about his many adventures but pull him in for another kiss and he'll quickly forget his train of thought.

yes, I made him wait in line, little shit

This cambion knows how to fuck, sit down and block me if you vehemently disagree.

He finds out you're a virgin, and interested in him? Game over.

He plays the long game in all his dealings, and won't be bothered if you choose to play hard to get....in fact he prefers it. Cat and mouse etc.

He's not gentle, nope, but when you're finally in his claws you hardly want him to be.

Doesn't have the bonus of Incubus spittle acting as an aphrodisiac but has had many bedmates and centuries to study how best to use another's body to pleasure his own.

Oh and bring you pleasure of course.

no

Go play DOS2

[monster-match-if]

Welcome to Paradise!

A few decades after the mystical veil between the human and supernatural world was shattered there are still efforts done to fully integrate the two societies. What better way to achieve that than an international & interspecies dating show?!

Ten lucky beings are going to be selected for the first ever edition of Monster Match, and embark on a month-long vacation on a tropical island. Follow your heart or mind when making decisions and win the public’s favour. At the end of the month, the fan favourite couple will win a whopping cash prize of €500,000, to keep or split between them.

Couple up, have fun with the various challenges and most importantly stay alive find love!

And beware of what’s lurking in the shadows!

Genre: Reality TV dating show, monster fu- lovers. Love island the game, but with monsters. Strictly 18+!

WIP - some things may still change on the way.

Play as Male or Female.

Choose to be a Sweetheart, a Charmer or a Flirt.

Have fun or stir up some drama between the other contestants!

Find love or do it all for the money.

Split the prize, or keep it all to yourself… if you win.

Choose between 5 gender selectable ROs and two male partial ROs.

Try to figure out what's happening to the eliminated contestants or ignore the gnawing feeling.

Entirely choice based, the stats are there for flavor text. This is an excuse to write monster, ermm, loving content. The story is rated 18+ and will contain NSFW and maybe some gore along with other dubious things. There will be fade to black options and skippable scenes as well as preference options and some pretty tame and sweet routes, but why are you here if monsters are not your thing? Read at your own discretion!

Morgan → Vampire🦇 - M/F - 6’  Tall and pale, with dark hair and crimson eyes, and an infuriating naturally gorgeous body. Always has the hair styled neatly and preferes classy clothes. An incurable flirt. Expect: Blood and biting related activities. Not particularly loyal.

Elindorn / Eli → Deep forest elf 🏹 (basically a drow) - M/F - 5'7 / 6'4  Tall with an athletic swimmer’s body. Dusty lilac skin, long milky white hair and pale silver eyes that seem to look into your soul. Expect: actually… the most well adjusted of the bunch. Elves mate for life.

The bombshell - Blake → Incubus/ Succubus🌶️- obviously M/F - 5’8/ 6’4  Deep brown skin, short curly black hair and vivid blue eyes. Horns and tail in their “true” form. Skimpy clothes to attract potential vict- partners. Expect: open relationship, multiple partners, life… sucking?

Kitai → Kitsune 🦊- M/F - 5'5 / 5'11 (Casa Amor contestant) The shortest of the group, but the most attentive and ready to please. Ivory skin, long jet black hair and yellow eyes.  Expect: probably the sweetest, most wholesome route, tails - nine of them.

Fionnlagh / Fion → Cecaelia 🐙 (yes, tentacles) - M/F - 5'6 / 6'3 (Casa Amor contestant)  Tanned skin, long wavy red hair, and green eyes. Eight crimson tentacles in their “true” form. Expect: foursome options, but otherwise tentacles and fun, dubious consent-ish if you squint.

Partial ROs

Ragnar → Werewolf 🐺 - M - 6’9/ 8' when in werewolf form Only RO available strictly to F MC and only one who will break up with MC if they cheat or don't have the same views. Tall and built like a mountain, with lightly tanned skin, brown hair and beard and kind brown eyes. Covered in tattoos. Expect: *sigh* knotting, breeding, bestialityithink??

Seishish  - Sei  → naga 🐍 (yes 2 🍆) - M - 6'2 / 11' long with tail out  The Host - not being a contestant will limit interactions in the first half of the story, but he is also an endgame RO. Rich olive skin with a golden hue, long wavy platinum blonde hair, hazel snake eyes. Gains a lot of length in trier half-snake form, the tail an iridescent golden colour. Expect: dubious consent-ish if you squint, ovo…ovi… the eggpreg thing.

Other OG contestants

Warlock/human - Gael - M Human - Kat - F Siren - Oralla - F Fairy - Feyre - F (original name, I know) Angel - Arael - F Demon Azrorath - M

Demo coming soon

[oceantornadoo]

ghost thinks nothing of you and soap’s friendship, believes soap’s just overly flirty with everyone. until he catches you giving soap a frantic handjob right after touching down from a mission (he always needs help with the adrenaline crash 😔)

ghost doesn’t get too involved in his sergeant’s lives. talks footy with gaz, stats and all. chats with johnny about whichever bird he’s seeing, (though lately, johnny has had less and less stories to tell). you and him have an outstanding pool rivalry, trading quips over green felt tables. he counts you as friends, sure, but he doesn’t particularly care to know about your sex life since you’re the closest thing he has to a sister. that is, until, it’s thrown glaringly in his face.

somehow, they end up at a pub after touching down. reports in, everyone’s cooled off a bit, johnny suggests a pub down the road and next thing you know, gaz is driving everyone (simon lost that privilege a long time ago). he’s there for a couple of beers, maybe a scotch with price, letting the blood rush in his head fade away. goes out for a smoke, notes two of his sergeants are missing, thinks nothing of it. he pushes out the back door into the dark alley, reaching for his lighter when- oh.

johnny’s moans are more guttural than the ones he let out last time he was in the infirmary. his back’s to the alley wall with his head tucked into your shoulder, practically fucking your hand. johnny clutches the back of your neck tightly, pulling you in by the scruff like he can manhandle you any way he wants. guess that’s why johnny stopped mentioning new birds. you honestly seem a bit bored, like you’d rather be shooting the shit with johnny than getting him off. still, you’re murmuring comforting words in johnny’s ear like you’re speaking your own secret language. shudders wrack through his sergeant’s body but he seems to be losing steam, letting you take control while he tips his head back to the brick wall, the adrenaline crash finally hitting him. ghost is still frozen, lighter halfway to his cig, a little jarred by seeing his sergeants so viscerally. sure, johnny can be a flirt with you but he didn’t even consider this being a possibility.

johnny’s head lolls over towards the door, mohawk mussed from brushing against your face. notes the man watching you two, the skeleton gloves gripping a cigarette, skull balaclava glinting in the dark. doesn’t even break eye contact when he comes, feels the way you change the angle so it hits your shirt instead of staining your jeans. practiced, like you’ve done this in hundreds of dark alleys. your head cocks up in johnny’s direction, tucking him into his boxers with a mindless movement. you zip his jeans back up, give him a condescending pat on the crotch, then track who he’s staring at. “l.t.” you both say, cocking your heads at the same angle with a slight smirk, a creepy excuse for best friends. ghost shakes his head, tucking his cigarette back into his pocket before heading door. “bloody hell.” he lost the bet with gaz and price would have his head.

[scary-grace]

Best Practice - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Taking the night shift at a 24-7 emergency vet hospital isn't for the faint of heart, and you've seen a lot of crazy things. But on one particular shift, it's Tenko Shimura and his service dog who make the biggest impression on you. a silly little fic I wrote while I was at the emergency vet with my dog. No quirks AU, volunteer!reader, pet owner!Shigaraki, Mon-chan lives (and so do any other animals mentioned in this fic). 3.9k words.

The waiting room sounds like hell in a handbasket, but give that this is the only 24/7 emergency vet in the prefecture, that’s not a surprise. You’ve been volunteering here since you got out of school, and there’s never been an overnight shift where things haven’t been completely unhinged. Cats yowling. Dogs barking. Rodents squeaking and birds trilling back and one enormous monitor lizard that’s going berserk inside its crate, scaring every other animal in the same bank of seats. But as bad as the pets are, they’re nowhere near as bad as the owners.

In the five years you’ve been volunteering here, you’ve seen probably thousands of people come in with their sick and injured pets, and none of them come in at their best. Nobody’s at their best when they’re scared or sad, and having to wait and watch as other pets are triaged and brought back from exams. You still have your vet tech certification left over from before you went to school, so you know how to take vitals and do basic assessments, but your real job on every shift is to manage the owners. Some nights it’s easier than others.

Tonight isn’t one of those nights. In addition to half a dozen pets already in the exam rooms, there’s a couple and their two kids with their elderly cat, all four of whom look like they’re hanging by a thread. In the back corner, there are a couple of kids who rescued a tanuki that got hit by a car. They’re also hanging by a thread, and probably in need of a few preemptive vaccinations to boot. The guy with the monitor lizard is making everybody nervous. People keep filtering in and out, getting stat-triaged or sent to the waiting room, and with every person who gets called back, the guy your age with the corgi who’s been here for four hours loses his temper a little bit more.

You feel like you should check in with him, but one thing and another keeps you busy, and nobody points you his way until one of the dads from the cat family catches your attention. “Hey, not to bother you, I know you’re busy –”

“How long have you been waiting?” you ask at once. “Has Snow White’s condition changed at all?”

“No, she’s about the same, but –” The blond man nods towards the bank of chairs across from his family. “Can you get a handle on that guy? He’s scaring my kids, and my husband’s this close to breaking his nose.”

You take a second look at Corner Guy – or Corgi Guy, if you go by the dog. Corner Guy is your age, skinny, with messy blue hair under an oversized hoodie. His clothes are old, but the blanket he’s wrapped the corgi in is new, and clean. With the dog bundled up that way, you can’t see what’s wrong, but it’s resting quietly in its owner’s arms. Every so often, it twists around to lick his face.

The dog is cute, but Corner Guy’s middle-distance death stare isn’t, and the blond man’s husband and kids are right in his eyeline. The least you can do is give him someone else to glare at. You make your way over and park yourself in the seat right across from him. “Hi. Have you been triaged yet?”

Corner Guy’s mouth, scarred at one corner, twists into a sneer. “What do you think?”

“How long has it been since somebody checked in with you?” you ask. You get a death stare all your own in response. “I’m sorry about the wait. If you tell me how long it’s been I might be able to hurry things along.”

“Checked in with me? I checked in. They took my money and told me to wait.” Corner Guy’s voice takes on a note of bitterness. “These people are idiots. I heard them, over there – their dog got hit by a car this morning and they’re just now coming in? Their dog gets to see the vet first because they were stupid and I wasn’t?”

You get this kind of thing a lot. You also get the sense that Corner Guy won’t appreciate being told how triage works. You deliberately turn your attention to the corgi in its blanket. “Who’s this?”

“Her name’s Mon.”

“Can I say hi?” you ask. Corner Guy nods, and you reach out to scratch Mon’s ears. She gives your hand a good sniff with a cold, wet nose before she lets you pet her, and as soon as you touch her, you can tell by the softness of her fur that she’s well cared-for. “What a sweetheart. How old is she?”

“Three.”

“Still a baby, huh?” You can’t help slipping into puppy voice. You got over being embarrassed about that a long time ago. “What brings you two in tonight?”

“At the stupid pet store. Some asshole ran her foot over with his cart, and she’s been crying –” Corner Guy’s eat-shit expression shifts into misery. “The cashier said to come here, so I did. And I’ve just been sitting here, and I know she’s in pain – and everybody and their cat gets to see the vet before Mon does.”

Now you get why the blond guy’s husband wants to break Corner Guy’s nose. “Can I see her paw? Which one is it?”

“Front one. On the right.” Corner Guy unwraps the blanket, careful not to jostle Mon, but she whimpers anyway. “Sorry. Sorry –”

“Okay, sweetie. Can I see your paw?” You forgot how short corgi legs are. There’s a risk that the cart got more than just her paw. “Oof, okay. That looks like it really hurts. How long ago did that happen?”

“Four hours.”

So he really did come straight here. “What happens if she tries to put weight on it?”

“She hasn’t,” Corner Guy says. “I picked her up when it happened, and, uh – I didn’t put her down again.”

“And you wrapped her up. That’s good,” you say. “If she hasn’t moved it around a lot, it’s a lot less likely to get displaced. How long ago did it stop bleeding?”

Corner Guy shrugs. The blanket has a decent-sized stain, but the stain looks like it’s drying. “Okay,” you say. “I’m going to go talk to the doctors and see if I can get one to come out and take a look at her. They might tell you it’s better to be treated by your regular vet, if you can get an appointment –”

“I made one for tomorrow,” Corner Guy says. “I wanted to see if she could get, like – dog Advil or something. I know she’s hurt even if she’s not crying.”

“Oh.” That’s a lot quicker than a cast and x-rays, and the vets on duty will be really happy to hear that Corner Guy has a vet appointment lined up already. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

You confirm it with the front desk, then come back with the good news. “I can take her back right now and the vet will do a quick exam. Then they’ll do a splint and some painkillers, and that should get you through to tomorrow. Sound okay?”

Corner Guy hesitates. “You’re going to take her away?”

“It’s kind of busy back in the exam rooms, so we have the owners wait out here.”

“No,” Corner Guy says. “She’s my service dog. I have to come too.”

“Service dog?” You’ve never seen a service corgi before, but when Corner Guy folds back the blanket, you see that Mon’s wearing a vest, with a seal on it that you recognize. That organization trains service dogs specifically for PTSD. “Okay. Right. So maybe it’s best if you carry her.”

Corner Guy follows you through the packed waiting room and past the authorized personnel only doors. It occurs to you that you’ve forgotten something. “I got Mon’s name. What’s yours?”

“Shimura,” Corner Guy says. “Shimura Tenko.”

Shimura Tenko settles down a lot once you get him and Mon into an exam room. People usually calm down when their pet finally gets some medical attention, but Shimura looks like he’s doing more than just calming down – his face is pale and his hands are shaking, and Mon starts squirming in his arms, letting out little whines as she tries to reposition. She’s still at work, even though she’s hurt. You hesitate a second, then step in. “I can help turn her. Where’s she trying to go?”

He doesn’t answer, but you’ve seen service dogs from this organization before, and you know what they usually do to help their handlers. You help Mon rotate from sprawled in Shimura’s lap to a more upright position, and she lays her head on his chest, over his heart. It takes a few moments, but you see Tenko begin to relax.

“Are you two going to be okay in here for a second?” You don’t get a nod, but you also don’t get a no, and you duck out onto the treatment floor in search of one of the vets on call.

The first vet you encounter is Dr. Fukukado, which is what you were hoping for. She’s got the best bedside manner. You wait for her to sign the discharge paperwork on the parakeets she was treating, the make your case. “I have a patient in Exam 10. Her paw got run over by a shopping cart and it looks pretty bad.”

“Poor thing.” Dr. Fukukado’s mouth turns down at the corners. “That would be a stat if we weren’t so busy –”

“She’s a service dog,” you interrupt as politely as possible. “From New Horizons.”

“PTSD. How’s her handler doing?”

“Not great,” you say. You feel confident in that one. “They were waiting for a while. I thought he was just being a jerk, but once I brought them back here he sort of –”

Collapsed is probably too strong, but you’re too tired to come up with the clinical terminology. Sometimes after a night at the emergency vet, you forget that you even have a day job, let alone that it’s as a social worker. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” Dr. Fukukado says. “I’ll add my name to his case and get in there as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you stick with them. Try to keep them both calm. Triage should be thinning out soon.”

Hopefully. It’s two am. You stick around long enough for Dr. Fukukado to add her name to the chart, then head back to Exam 10. Mon and Shimura haven’t moved. “Hi,” you say. “I’ve got some good news. The doctor’s put her name on Mon’s chart, so she’s next in line. Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?”

Shimura Tenko doesn’t answer. You notice that his lips are really dry. “I can get water if you want it, or something else to drink. We have a coffee machine, so there’s tea, coffee, mochas, cappuccinos, hot chocolate –”

“That.”

Okay. He’s talking. “Gotcha. One hot chocolate, coming right up.”

You pick your way through the waiting room, checking on a few new patients in the mean time. You stop by the family with the cat to make sure they’re all right, cast a wary eye at the guy with the lizard, quickly triage a pair of kittens someone brought it, and grab Tenko’s hot chocolate. You’ve hit first-name terms with him in your head. That’s – not normal.

When you get back to the exam room, Tenko looks like he’s doing a little better. More color in his face, at least. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“No, I just got a bit held up.” You hand over the hot chocolate and watch him take a sip. His hands aren’t shaking as badly as before. “How are you two doing?”

“Her foot’s still messed up.” Tenko takes another sip. “It’s my fault.”

“It can feel like that sometimes, but I bet it wasn’t,” you say. “Somebody ran her foot over. That wasn’t you.”

“I shouldn’t have put her down.” Tenko’s voice flattens. “I know I carry her too much. She wants to walk. I thought she might want to walk around in there. If I hadn’t put her down she wouldn’t have gotten hurt, so it’s my fault.”

“Letting your dog walk around is a reasonable thing to do,” you counter. “Not looking where you’re going and hitting somebody else’s dog with your cart isn’t. That person’s the problem, not you.”

“I’ve only had her for two months,” Tenko says. His voice pulls tight. “They’re going to take her away.”

“We see service dogs in here a lot,” you say. “Nobody comes to take them away. Everybody knows accidents happen. This was definitely an accident.”

Tenko doesn’t answer. He takes a few sips of hot chocolate, and Mon picks her head up to snuffle the cup. “Hey. No. That’s bad for you.” Mon gives the bottom of the cup an exploratory lick. “We have treats at home. If I let you have this she’ll think I’m a moron.”

“I’d have a hard time saying no to her,” you say. You sit down one chair away from him. “If you hadn’t told me you got her two months ago, I never would have guessed. You guys seem really bonded already.”

“Yeah.” Tenko adjusts his grip on her. He’s quieter when he speaks again. “I feel like shit right now. She knows to work when I get upset, but I don’t want her to get upset and worry about me when she’s hurt. So then I get upset because I’m making her work, and – yeah.”

“She’ll feel better if you let her help you,” you say. You’re confident in that one. “My dog does, anyway.”

“You have a service dog? Where is it?”

“She’s a therapy dog,” you say. Tenko gives you a suspicious look. “Not an ESA. She and I did a bunch of extra training and I take her on visits to places – hospitals, schools, libraries, that kind of thing. When we’re not on visits, she’s a pet. An incredibly spoiled pet.”

“Do you have a picture?”

People with sick pets don’t usually ask about your pet. Then again, you don’t usually tell people with sick pets that you’ve got one, too. “Yeah. Um, here. That’s her.”

Tenko glances at your phone, and to your shock, he cracks a smile. “People must go crazy for her on visits. There was a golden in team training when I went through. Everybody wanted him but me.”

You should keep Tenko talking anyway – it’s best practice – but you also really want to know. “How does it work, getting matched with a dog? Do they let you pick?”

Tenko shakes his head. “You work with a bunch of different dogs in the first week. They’re all trained like Mon is. The trainers want to see which one you click with. Mon was the third one I worked with.”

“And you got along right away?”

“She kept getting in trouble.” There’s a note of pride in Tenko’s voice, and it only takes you a moment to understand why. “Even when she was working with other people, she kept pulling to get back to me.”

“She picked you out,” you say, and Tenko nods. He’s smiling slightly again. “I can tell you guys have something really special. And that you take really good care of her.”

Mon finally quits trying to get into the hot chocolate and settles back with her head against Tenko’s chest. Tenko glances at you. “What do you do here, anyway? I’ve been watching you run around all night and I still can’t figure it out.”

“I’m a patient support specialist,” you explain. “I can do triage, but mainly I try to help people get through pet emergencies in one piece. It gets kind of hard in here.”

“Whatever they pay you, it’s not enough.”

“I don’t get paid,” you say. “I volunteer.”

Tenko looks surprised. “You do this for free?”

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the door. You jump, but it startles Tenko enough that he spills some hot chocolate on his hand, which Mon promptly slurps up. You open the door, ready to give hell to whoever spooked them both. “Hey, can you keep it down?”

“Sorry. Fukukado said you were in here, and –” Tamaki leans against the doorframe, breathing hard. “You know the monitor lizard? It’s, uh – not.”

“What is it, then?”

“We don’t really know,” Tamaki says. “But it got out.”

Oh. “Anybody who’s not with a patient has to go help,” Tamaki says. “Like now.”

You are with a patient. You glance at Tenko, who looks ever so slightly entertained. “Me and Mon aren’t going anywhere,” he says. “Go get your lizard.”

You get to your feet. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.”

You aren’t back soon. You’re back an hour later, bruised and tired, your hand wrapped in an ice pack and an ace bandage. You make the mistake of knocking on the door to Exam 10 with it, and you get a shock when Tenko opens the door rather than just hollering for you to come in. He’s not carrying Mon, and you ask where he is at the same moment as he asks you a question of his own. “What happened to you?”

“Is Mon okay?”

“They brought her a bed and some pain stuff.” Tenko opens the door to show you, and you spot Mon on the exam table in a dog bed, swaddled in a blanket and so doped up on painkillers that she can barely keep her eyes open. “They’re gonna do x-rays later. Did you get the lizard?”

“It got me,” you say. Tenko’s eyes widen as he studies your bandaged hand. “And it wasn’t a lizard.”

“What was it, then – a dragon?”

“A Komodo dragon,” you say. “But close.”

“Aren’t those things supposed to be giant?” Tenko says. “How did that guy fit it in that box?”

“This one was a juvenile. Is a juvenile. We didn’t hurt it or anything.” You don’t think any of you were capable of hurting it. It was running circles around you. “It’s still really big. And fast.’

“And it took you guys an hour to catch it,” Tenko muses. “I was wondering what all the yelling was about.”

You and the others were really trying to keep the yelling to a minimum. You wince. “We had to find it first, and once we did, we had to catch it – but it was really aggressive, so it started biting, and then it got away again. Rinse and repeat about ten times.”

Tenko snickers. “I wish I could have seen it. More of it than I did, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I cracked the door open. Some guy was chasing it down the hall,” Tenko says. “It was pretty funny when it started chasing him back the other way.”

Dr. Sorahiko is the oldest vet in the ER, and he’s gotten kind of mean in his old age. You don’t feel bad for laughing. “You’re probably going to see the rest of it on TikTok or something. Or on the news. They showed up when Animal Control did.”

“Does that kind of thing happen a lot around here?”

“No,” you say. “Usually when we have a wild night, it’s a different kind of wild.”

“So no bites from a giant lizard,” Tenko says. You shake your head. “You and Mon match now. Maybe we can get two x-rays for the price of one.”

You smile at the thought, then remember something the front desk told you to pass along. “They’re discounting services for everybody tonight, because of the – disruption. Even if Mon gets x-rays and a splint and everything, you’ll probably only get charged the exam fee.”

“Good.” Tenko looks relieved. “Mon gets whatever she needs, when she needs it, but I was gonna be eating instant ramen for a month so I could make rent.”

“A lot of people who bring their pets in here say stuff like that.” You prop your bitten hand against your shoulder to elevate it. The bite didn’t break the skin, but it still hurts a lot. “That’s part of why I like being here. People are awful in outpatient.”

“They’re awful here, too. I sucked.”

“You weren’t even close to the worst person I’ve talked to,” you say. You remember a guy whose dog needed a leg amputation telling you he’d break your neck if she died on the operating table. He got kicked out, but the vets still operated on his dog, and as far as you know, she made a full recovery. “But people here — they aren’t being assholes just because they can. They’re really worried about their animals, because they care about them so much, and I’ve never seen somebody handle that well without help. If I ever have to bring my dog in here, I’ll be a wreck just like everyone else.”

“Worse than everybody else,” Tenko says. You glance at him, puzzled. “You’re not going to have a you around to help out.”

“Yeah,” you say. The thought is weirdly dispiriting. Not only will you be in here with no patient outreach specialist, you’re going to be in here all alone. Your family lives in a different prefecture, most of your friends have their own lives to deal with, and it’s not like you have a partner who could come with you. You haven’t gone on a date in a long time. “It’s going to suck.”

“If it ever happens, me and Mon will hang out with you,” Tenko says, and you nearly fall out of your chair. “She helps me. She won’t mind helping you, too.”

Before you can even think about addressing that, there’s a quick knock on the door, and Dr. Fukukado steps in. “Hey, sorry about the wait,” she says earnestly. “Mini-Godzilla was zipping around out here and he was tough to catch. We’ve got it under control, obviously, but — hey, you need to go home. Everybody who got hurt has to clock out.”

“I’m a volunteer. I don’t have to do anything,” you say. “I can stick around as long as I need to.”

You’ve put the ball back in Tenko’s court, which you feel is the patient-centered thing to do, especially when you’re technically still on shift. But patient-centered or not, you don’t want to leave just yet. You’ve gotten a little protective over these two, and by the time you go home and hug your own dog, you want to know that Tenko and his dog are going to be okay.

“Stick around,” Tenko says after a moment, and your heart lifts in a way it really shouldn’t. “Somebody needs to replace Mon when she goes for her x-rays.”

He wants you to be his service dog? “Sure, but I’m not going to lick your face.”

Tenko laughs at that – actually laughs – and the lightness in your chest grows a little harder to ignore. You like making people feel better, and you like it more than you should that he wants you around a little while longer. It’s not often that you have a night like this one at work. The Komodo dragon bite is going to be the better story, the kind you’ll tell your friends about, or your parents the next time you call home. But hanging out with Tenko Shimura and Mon for the rest of your shift is what you’re going to remember.

[jellitchi]

vat7k designs in my head...

i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.

i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,

i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist

Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist

yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist

miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist

uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Recovery

Summary: After stopping the attack on Jackson and Joel, the reader has to navigate if he'll be able to make it through his injuries and what life could look like for him...

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 2,300ish

Warnings: The Last of Us Season 2 spoilers, language, graphic mention of injury

A/N: This episode takes place immediately after 2x02 and changes a few things about the events in that story...Enjoy!

___________

Your head was pounding as you sat in a plastic chair just inside the entrance to the clinic. Around you screams and moans filled the hallways, the noise grating on your nerves. Part of you wanted to leave, run out to the cool air outside. Part of you knew that air smelled like death, the snow covered road painted with blood and dead infected.

“Y/N.” You looked up, surprised to find Tommy standing there, a hand on your shoulder. He looked drained, exhaustion etched into every line. God, he seemed to have aged ten years in a matter of hours. “Have you seen the doctor?”

You smiled. After everything that happened today, everything that happened with his brother and Ellie, he was still asking about you.

“I did and I’m fine,” you said. Tommy gently touched a gloved hand to your bruised cheek, worry in his eyes. “Joel’s in with Dr. Mack. They don’t know if they can save the leg. He doesn’t know if he’ll…”

“He’ll keep fighting until he can’t,” said Tommy quietly. You closed your eyes, swallowing down the panic in your gut. “Ellie?”

“Banged up but she’ll be out of here soon.” You frowned, slowly letting your eyes open, Tommy taking a seat beside you. “What if I hadn’t shown up?”

“They’d probably both be dead then,” he said quietly, resting a hand on your knee. “How’d you convince Maria to let you take Junior on a 24-hour patrol last night?”

“The little shit thinks he’s all that. Cocky ass eighteen year old. Figured it was a good punishment for him to miss New Year’s Eve and spend the night in the cold doing recon drills,” you said.

“You probably saved that kids life. He would have been on the wall otherwise.” You hummed. “He is your brother.”

“My kid brother,” you corrected. “Ellie’s not a brat like him.” Tommy raised his eyebrows, waiting for your eye roll. “Okay, she’s a brat too but a normal teenage brat. Junior is…Junior.”

“How’d he handle himself at the house?” 

“Honestly? When I walked in that room, Joel was half…” You shook your head, taking a breath. “He was on the ground and they had Ellie pinned down. If it was just me, I could have taken a couple out but they probably would have killed me too. Junior did good today. He protected Ellie while I got Joel.”

“Did you tell him that?” 

“I tried. He went back into the clinic a while ago to help with somebody’s broken arm. I haven’t seen him in hours.” You both froze when you saw Dr. Mack come down the hall, covered in bloody scrubs. Tommy stood up, grasping your hand.

“Is he…” Tommy trailed off, Dr. Mack offering a small smile. 

“He made it through surgery. He’ll live.” You both exhaled deeply, your eyes closing shut. “He’s not going home anytime soon but his stats are good.”

“Will he walk again?” you asked quietly, rising to your feet. Dr. Mack pursed his lips.

“Most people, a shotgun to the leg like that, it’s an amputation. But his major arteries were intact and it somehow wasn’t a direct hit to the bone. Long story short, we kept the leg. We’ll have to see how healing and physical therapy goes. We may need to remove it down the line. But this is Joel we’re talking about. If anyone can come back from this, it’s that bastard. You can go back and see him if you want.”

You left Tommy and went back into the recovery bay of the clinic, past dozens of injured bodies. Dr. Mack showed you into a quiet room, worry filling your gut again when you saw Joel on a gurney, a thin sheet over his middle, tubes and wires stuck in him.

You startled when his eyes flickered open, gaze wandering to the thick wad of bandages wrapped around his left leg.

“H-hey,” you said, approaching his side, Joel looking up at you, his eyes worried. “Ellie’s okay.”

His body visibly relaxed, trying to communicate with only a flick of his eyes. You nodded, carefully putting a hand on top of his head.

“When you’re better, you’re going to tell me what the hell happened out there.” He closed his eyes, chest rising and falling softly. “Alright. You can tell me later.”

He was quickly asleep, Tommy meeting you in the hallway with a frown. “Y/N, I need your help.”

“Hey, I know he’ll need a lot of help going forward. I’m going to be there-”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, pulling you towards the front of the clinic. You walked outside, Tommy rubbing his jaw. “We lost Rowan in the attack.”

“What?” you whispered. Rowan was your Chief of Security. Tommy was heavily involved with your protocols and things but Rowan’s job was overseeing everyone assigned to patrol duty. Training. Routes. Council business. The guy was only forty. He was supposed to have that job for decades.

“Council wants you to fill the spot in the interim.” You shook your head, Tommy giving you his puppy dog eyes. “Just until Jackson gets back on it’s feet. Three months tops.”

“Tommy, Joel needs me.”

“Joel is not getting out of the hospital for at least three months and we both know it. I won’t let it interfere with him and you, I swear. Please Y/N.” You went to protest, Tommy frowning. “The town is hurting right now. We don’t need another soldier. We got plenty of those. We need a strategist like you and if you’re able to wrangle my brother, then you can do this in a heartbeat.”

“...Three months.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Three Months Later

You woke up from the kitchen table with a start, a paper stuck to your face. Looking around you caught sight of Ellie, a cheeky grin on her face. 

“Good morning,” she said, peeling a sheet off of you, examining it before walking over to a cabinet. “So when do I get to go back on patrol, huh?”

“When I clear you,” you grumbled, wincing as you stood up and stretched. God, you had to stop sleeping in that fucking chair or else your back would be fucked up by the time you hit 35. You finally took her in, Ellie in her pajamas, your eyebrows raising. “Did, did you sleep in the house last night?”

“I moved back in a few weeks ago. You’re so busy you haven’t noticed,” she said with a shrug, taking out a jar of half-eaten peaches, picking them out with her fingers. You stared at her, blinking slowly. You’d asked her months ago to move into the house but were met with her usual teenage angst. In another six months she’d be twenty. Honestly, you were surprised she hadn’t asked the council for a home of her own yet.

“Why?” you asked quietly, Ellie shrugging.

“Joel’s coming home soon and he’ll need help. You work a lot and so, yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, getting out a bowl and fork for yourself, dishing up some peaches into it. She watched you, her eyes focused. “What?”

“Did Joel ever tell you why he was attacked by those people?” Ellie asked. You bit a peach slice and shook your head. You wanted answers but he spent most of his first month in the hospital laying there in pain. The past two had been focused on trying to get his leg working again. He didn’t want you around for that and with how much you’d been working, you didn’t get to see him aside from the evenings. And you had a feeling whatever the story was, a hospital full of people to overhear wasn’t the place. So you waited, as patiently as you could. 

“I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s home,” you said. Ellie stopped eating, wiping her fingers on her jeans. “Listen, El…I know you two weren’t on the best terms but-”

“We’re good.” You raised an eyebrow, Ellie staring at you, a sliver of wetness in her eyes that she blinked away. “Joel and I are good.”

“Does he know that you two are good?” She shrugged. “You should tell him that. He’s missed you.”

“I was angry at him…and we talked New Years Eve and I was still so mad but I said I’d try to forgive him but then he almost…and I just don’t want to be mad at him anymore,” she said, voice shaky as she finished. You nodded, pulling her into a hug she easily accepted. “How do I tell him I forgive him?”

“That was pretty good.” You both turned your heads, Joel standing in the front doorway with a crutch and a soft smile. 

“How…” You shook your head as Ellie rushed over, wrapping him up into a hug. He returned it with one arm, the other on his crutch. His left leg was in a sturdy black brace, surprinsgly new looking.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie mumbled, Joel shushing her. 

“No, I am for hurting you,” he said quietly. “You’re okay?” 

She nodded, Joel squeezing her tight for a few moments as you stood back and watched. You smiled to yourself, Joel whispering something before Ellie was humming and rushing outside, promising to be back soon. 

“Where’s she run off to?” you asked, watching him take a slow step forward, wincing a bit. 

“Asked her to run over to Seth’s. Got a welcome home cake waiting for me,” he said, looking you up and down with a smirk. “You’re still here?”

“Didn’t you know? I’m into senior citizens with limps,” you said, Joel grinning harder than you’d seen in years. 

“I thought it was just men with twenty years on ya, little shit,” he said.

“What can I say, I would have been a gold digger in a normal life,” you shot back, Joel smiling as he took another step closer. You shook your head, swallowing thickly. “How are you…”

“A lot of therapy and the crutch has most of my weight. A patrol went out to Boulder, found some medical supplies. Some guy that was an engineer tinkered with a brace and mocked this up.” You stepped over to him, placing a careful hand on his chest. “I won’t be winning any races anytime soon but I’m alive and still standing which is more than I could have hoped for.”

You guided him to sit on the couch in the family room, returning with a glass of water and your bowl of peaches. He happily took both, watching you carefully as he ate. 

“Your nose.” He ran a finger over the tiny bump on the bridge. “When’d you break it?”

“That day,” you said quietly. “You were so out of it that first week. I don’t think you noticed.”

“Listen-”

“Don’t say thank you.” He snapped his mouth shut, looking at you through his lashes. “Just…just take it easy and try to spend some time with Ellie. She’s missed you.”

“Anyone else miss me?” You rolled your eyes, Joel keeping his gaze on you. “I’m serious.”

“Why are all men so stupid?” you asked, leaning over and turning his jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Of course I did.”

“Did Ellie tell you anything…” You shook your head. “I know you have questions. But I need to talk to her first before I give you answers.”

“Is this about how she’s immune?” He froze like a statue, eyes flared wide ever so slightly. “I heard you two fighting one night about a year ago. The day Eugene died.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” You frowned, leaning back into the cushions.

“Because she deserves to feel safe in her own skin.” He was quiet, closing his eyes eventually.

“S’why those people attacked me. Back when Ellie and I first met, I was meant to take her to the Fireflies, hope that they could make a cure form her. But to do that, they’d have to kill her. Ellie never had a choice in the matter. I just couldn’t…I killed them all, including that girl with the braid’s father. That’s why they came.”

“Alright.” He turned his face away, breathing deeply.

“Ellie would have picked to die. It’s why we’ve been so…I lied to her about what happened in Salt Lake. She hated me for it. I think when I get better, she’ll hate me again,” he breathed out.

“No she won’t.” He faced you, his brow furrowed, eyes welled up. “She won’t. She moved back in this house for you. She tried to save you. She sat in that hospital room while you were unconscious for weeks. Your daughter loves you Joel.”

“I don’t know that she does anymore,” he said quietly. 

“Love is not words. It’s action and you have no idea just how much she loves you. She’d have burned down the world for you. Be gentle with each other and it’ll be alright.” You picked up the bowl of peaches, holding the fork out to him. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

He took the fork but held it up to you, waiting until you took a bite to pull it away. “You look like you could use a break yourself.”

“It’s been a long few months,” you said, a large thud occurring upstairs followed by a string of curses directed at Ellie. Both your heads snapped up, Joel shaking his head. “Junior and Ellie are getting along as good as always you can see.”

“She tie his foot to the bedpost again?” You hummed, Joel smirking. “Some things never change at least.”

“Welcome home, Joel,” you said softly, tucking into his side, burying your fact in his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “For everything.”

____________

[emakataken]

Chapter 8 – Flashpoint

Idea: This is pre-canon, slow-burn AU, Buck arrives at Station 118, ruled by Captain Gerrard. Tommy/Buck/Sal.

… Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6.A - Part 6.B - Part 7

Hen was restocking an empty med bag when Buck approached the ambulance. She looked up, giving him a once-over. “You good to run?” she asked. No softness in her tone, but no ice either. Just... neutral. Like she was leaving him room.

Buck nodded. “Ready to shoot, move, and communicate.”

Hen blinked. “That supposed to mean something?”

Buck didn’t look up from the airway kit he was checking. “Yeah.” The word came out soft, tired, lonely.

She stared at him for a second before letting out a short laugh as she shook her head. “You’re a weird kid, Buck.”

“Yea,” Buck said, lips quirking upwards. “But it looks like you’re stuck with me for awhile.”

Hen didn’t smile back exactly, but something in her eyes shifted. She nudged the bag toward him with the toe of her boot. “What you said earlier, sticking up for that couple, me.” Her voice stayed even, almost casual. “That took guts.”

Buck glanced up, startled. He gave her a little shrug, like it wasn’t anything.

Hen kept her eyes on the gear. “Next time, maybe work on your delivery or timing, so you don’t get fired. Some of us might actually miss you if you do.”

Buck’s throat worked around a quiet laugh. “You saying you’d miss me, Hen?”

She finally looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Don’t push it.”

He laughed soft jogging after her as the alarm went off.

Dispatched to a large structure fire at a downtown civic center possibly an electrical failure, smoke alarms triggered in the loading dock. Except the second the rig turned onto the block, the world changed.

The building was already belching smoke, thick, gray and wrong. Windows on the first and second floor were blown out. Glass glittered on the sidewalk like ice. Civilians were screaming, sprinting from the entrance with bloody faces and soot-streaked arms. A mother clutched a toddler tight to her chest. Someone collapsed in the street, choking. Sirens echoed from every direction. Sal jumped down before the rig stopped rolling, barking for triage zones, ordering Allen and Cobb to pull the burn kits.

Hen was the first to really take in the scene. “This isn’t electrical.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed as he swept over the building. “Wait, this is the one the city’s been using for emergency overflow, right? Shelter setup, triage drills…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.

One of the firefighters from 207, face pale and hands shaking, cut in, “Yeah. But today it was a health department thing, family safety fair. Vaccines, CPR demos, bouncy houses out back.”

Hen was moving before Sal finished barking orders, her voice cutting through the chaos like a scalpel. "You two, help that woman to the curb! Sir, keep pressure on that arm!" She thrust a roll of gauze at a stunned bystander before turning to a teenager clutching his bleeding forehead. Her fingers probed the wound with clinical precision even as her eyes tracked Buck as he picked up a kid and passed him carried him toward 207’s triage station. "Look at me, sweetheart. You're gonna be fine, but I need you to sit right here and hold this."

The mother with the toddler grabbed her sleeve. "Please, my baby's not breathing right-"

Hen didn't hesitate. One hand on the child's back, the other yanking her penlight. "Chim! I need a neb treatment and pediatric O2 stats!"

Tommy grabbed Buck’s arm without thinking, eyes already tracking the upper floors.

Gerrard’s voice cut through the chaos. “Deluca, establish perimeter. I’m taking a team in. Tommy, Buckley with me. Ventilation and evac sweep, east corridor.” Gerrard turned, scanning the chaos, and added, “Rodric, you’re with us. Let’s go.”

Rodric snapped his helmet into place without a word. Buck caught the way his eyes flicked to Sal, just for a second, before following after their captain.

Gerrard didn’t wait for confirmation. He pushed past, his shoulder clipping Buck as he moved.

Buck stiffened. His eyes flicked to Sal, fast, searching then to Tommy’s.

Sal’s jaw was locked tight, headset in one hand, the other clenched around the strap of his gear bag. But it was his eyes that gave him away. They didn’t follow Gerrard. They tracked Tommy. And the fear there wasn’t loud, but it was real. The kind that only showed up when you knew exactly how much you had to lose.

Buck’s gut twisted.

But there was no time to argue. Not with the 207 and 131 watching. Not with radios crackling and smoke crawling the edge of the block.

Hen slapped a mask into Tommy’s then into Buck’s hands. “Watch your corners,” she said tightly. “This place is old. Renovated, yeah, but built on bones.”

Tommy met Sal’s eyes for a fraction of a second as he clipped his helmet into place. His lips twitching at Sal’s nod. Go. Come back.

And then they were gone. Through the door and into the smoke. They moved fast through the east entrance, metal frame bent from the pressure wave, doors sagging off the hinges. Rodric fell back a few steps, his flashlight sweeping lazily.

The smoke hit like a wall. For a moment, it wasn’t L.A. anymore. It was dust and concrete and blood-slick boots. Buck blinked hard and forced the world back into place. Los Angeles civic center corridor. Ventilation sweep. Focus.

The lobby was chaos. Half the ceiling had collapsed. A support beam had split and was bowing under its own weight. Alarms shrieked. A red exit sign flickered overhead like a dying pulse.

Gerrard barked something into his radio. The channel was flooded. Nothing but static and overlapping shouts. Buck could barely hear anything over the roar of fire chewing through drywall.

Tommy was at his six, sweeping right as they moved down the corridor. Buck took left. Gerrard pushed ahead. They reached a junction. Smoke poured from a stairwell to the right. The glow of flame lit the far end of the hall like a flare.

Tommy pointed. “Evac route’s clearer. We loop down and…”

“Move!” Buck shouted, lunging forward, shoving Tommy back. But the ceiling came down hard and fast. Plaster. Insulation. Iron supports. The impact rocked the hallway. Smoke and debris exploded into the space.

When Buck coughed his way upright, Tommy was gone.

Rodric was already shouting into his radio, panicked. “We’re cut off, shit, smoke’s too thick!” But he didn’t move toward the debris, just stumbled back, retreating fast.

“Tommy!” Buck called, voice cracking. “Kinard!”

Nothing. Just the roar of fire and the churn of settling dust. Smoke rolled through the gap like a tide. He tried the radio. Nothing but static.

His pulse kicked. Hard. No, no, not again, not now, not him.

He dropped low, tried to find an opening in the debris, but the wall had collapsed completely. The shape of the hallway was gone.

“I’m good!” came the muffled shout. “I’ve got a clear path to the outside. I’ll connect with Deluca or Howie and we’ll circle back, take the west stairwell!”

Buck let out a breath that shook. Pressed a hand to his thigh like it could hold him steady as he pushed himself back to his feet.

He didn’t move at first. Couldn’t. His body vibrated with the effort not to go after him.

Because this, this went against everything drilled into him. Years of training. Eight men on a team. No one left behind. You find a way, or you die trying.

Thirty-seven days.

He swallowed back the nausea. His right hand twisted the paracord bracelet at his wrist, knuckles white, steadying against the panic rising in his throat.

And leaving Tommy now, even with a plan. Felt like failure. Like desertion.

His eyes burned.

Gerrard was already moving. “Leave him! He said he’s good, his plan is solid, let’s go, that’s an order Boot!”

He glanced once toward the smoke where Tommy’s voice had come from and turned, forcing himself after Gerrard. Rodric caught up with them at the junction, wide-eyed, barely breathing. “Kinard’s okay?” he asked, voice brittle.

Buck didn’t answer. Just pushed past him, following Gerrard deeper in. Rodric trailed behind, steps uneven, flashlight jittering against the smoke.

They turned the next corner, and the floor groaned under their feet. “Fall back,” Buck commanded, too late.

The floor gave. Gerrard went down fast, one leg swallowed by a jagged hole between support beams, concrete and debris crumbling beneath him. Smoke surged upward like a living thing.

“Cap!” Buck dropped to his knees, crawling forward as fire licked up the far wall.

“I’m stuck!” Gerrard’s voice was rough, panicked.

Rodric stood frozen at the edge of the collapse. He didn’t move toward the hole. Didn’t back away either but his eyes followed Buck.

Buck reached Gerrard, hands already moving. His gaze rolled over the wound: entry mid-calf, jagged edge, no exit. Minimal arterial spray. Not femoral. Yet. Shock setting in. He could work with this.

He shifted and clicked his radio. “Probational Officer Evan Buckley with the 118, Mayday. Firefighter down. Officer compromised. East corridor. Structural instability, heavy smoke, partial collapse. I need back up for extraction and suppression.”

Silence.

He tried again. Nothing. No static, no bleed. Just void. Almost like interference. Jamming. Suspicion crawled cold up his spine.

He pressed a hand against Gerrard’s shoulder. “You breathing?”

“Fuck you,” Gerrard rasped, trying to twist away.

The blood hit his nose, thick, coppery, hot. And for a breath, he wasn’t here. He was back in the port, lungs full of dust, gloves slick. Julian’s voice rasping in his ear, “we move on three…”

“You think you’re in charge?” Gerrard spat, cutting through the memory.

“No,” Buck said, forcing the memory down. “I think you’re dying. Now hold still.”

He pulled Gerrard’s weight up, angling his hips enough to free his leg. Smoke swirled. Heat surged. The floor moaned.

Rodric took a half-step forward, his voice shook. “Do you want me to…”

“Cover the hallway,” Buck ordered, not looking back. “If anything shifts, warn me. Otherwise stay the hell out of the way.”

Rodric nodded, swallowed, and lifted his radio again still nothing but static. He braced himself at the threshold, eyes wide.

Buck didn’t wait. He hauled Gerrard down to the floor, muscles straining. The weight was nothing new. The fire was nothing new. The silence, though? That was the part that scared him.

Tick-tick-tick.

That sound, the tick of a buried device shoved the air from his lungs. He knew this. Not from drills. Not from LAFD. From a desert hallway that hadn’t existed on any map, from sand and steel and silence just before the breach.

“Shit,” Buck breathed.

“Probie?” Gerrard wheezed.

From behind, Rodric’s voice cracked. “What the fuck is that?”

Buck didn’t answer. He grabbed Gerrard hard, heaving him up with a grunt that tore down his spine. “Move. We’re getting out. Now. We’ve got to move, we aren’t dying in this shitty fucking hallway. Move Rodric.”

Gerrard hissed in pain as Buck dragged him upright, weight sagging hard against Buck’s side. “My leg…”

“Broken,” Buck snapped. “Deal with it. If you’re still talking, you’ve still got more to give, so keep fucking going.”

The hallway pulsed with heat. The ticking was louder now, steady and awful, like a countdown shoved straight into his chest.

 “Was… Is that a bomb?” Rodric voice pitched up, tight with panic.

“Cover our exit!” Buck barked without looking back. “Unless you want to find out.”

Rodric flinched but nodded, eyes too wide as he stumbled forward to the stairwell door, shoulder pressed to the frame like it might hold him up.

One arm under Gerrard’s, Buck half-carried, half-dragged him forward. Plaster and ash rained from the ceiling. Another groan, louder this time. A shift in the air like something exhaling its last breath.

Buck ducked low, teeth grit as he hauled Gerrard through the stairwell threshold.

Rodric lurched forward from where he’d been frozen, catching the door with both hands and yanking it shut. The explosion wasn’t loud or big, but it was close, a thump that rattled deep in the bones. The fireball didn’t chase them, but the collapse did, hammering the door as dust and debris slammed against it like a wave.

The ticking stopped.

Gerrard sagged in Buck’s grip, unconscious or damn close, his breath rattling shallow and wet.

Rodric leaned against the door, chest heaving, eyes wide. “Jesus,” he rasped.

Buck didn’t slow. Just tightened his hold on Gerrard and pushed forward. “We’re not done,” he growled. “Stairwell’s still clear. Move.”

Buck hit his radio again, static crinkling to life. “This is Buckley. I need med evac at east stairwell exit. Captain down, probable compound fracture, possible concussion, possible internal bleeding, confirmed outward bleeding. We’ve got secondary devices. Repeat, this was intentional.”

Behind him, Rodric leaned hard against the stairwell wall, bent over with his hands on his knees, coughing like he couldn’t breathe past the fear.

The radio silence that followed was chilling, no static, no breathing, just three seconds of dead air that somehow carried more weight than any scream.

Then chaos erupted across the channel.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tommy's voice, raw and unguarded.

A sharp metallic clatter as someone dropped equipment. "Say again, Buckley?" Chimney demanded through the noise.

But it was Sal who spoke next, his voice pared down to steel. "Copy confirmed." A barely audible inhale. "All units, we have confirmed intentional detonation. Switch to channel four. Buckley, keep him alive."

The radio crackled with Sal's authorization, but Buck barely registered it. Blood from Gerrard's leg seeped through his turnout gear, warm and insistent against his ribs. Each breath tasted of burning insulation and copper, the stairwell's tilted geometry playing tricks with his balance.

"Copy," Buck rasped, though the word caught in his smoke-raw throat. He adjusted his grip, Gerrard's dead weight threatening to pull them both backward down the crumbling steps. The captain's breath came in wet, stuttering gasps against his neck, alive, but barely.

“Climb,” Buck ordered, voice low but firm. “We don’t need brave right now. We need to move.”

He caught Rodric’s eye and as something shifted between them. Buck gave him a crooked grin, too wide, too reckless and winked. Like they were invincible.  “On three,” he said, voice hoarse but steady. “Go.”

Rodric blinked, then nodded, the breath catching in his throat. “Three.” He swallowed hard and started up the stairs.

 “Atta boy,” he murmured under his breath. “Don’t stop.”

Three flights up, Buck's muscles screamed in protest. Sweat stung the shrapnel scars along his side, the pain a familiar counterpoint to his racing thoughts. Behind them, the building groaned like a living thing, hungry to swallow them whole.

Ahead, Rodric faltered, one hand catching the rail as he stumbled. “I… I don’t know if I…”

“You do,” Buck snapped, breath ragged. “You’re already doing it.”

Rodric turned, wide-eyed.

Buck’s grip tightened under Gerrard’s arm. “No one’s asking you to carry the weight. Just clear the path. That’s it. That’s your job.”

Rodric nodded, jaw clenched, and kept moving.

Buck dragged in a breath through his teeth. “That’s it,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Just keep going.”

Rodric reached the landing first, eyes wild but focused now, one arm braced against the wall. Without waiting, he twisted and slammed his boot into the door. It burst open with a jolt, the impact echoing down the stairwell.

The smoke gave away to sunlight, revealing a hallway choked with collapsed ceiling tiles and broken light fixtures. The wall plaster had cracked like eggshells, scattering white dust across the linoleum floor.

Buck stumbled out behind him, breath ragged, Gerrard still draped over his shoulders. Gerrard stirred as Buck propped him against the wall. "Should've... left me," the captain slurred, one bloody hand clutching at Buck's shoulder.

“Yeah,” Buck muttered, not looking at him. “But I don’t leave men behind. Even the ones who would’ve left me.”

He smashed the window with his flashlight, the safety glass fracturing into a thousand glittering pieces. Cold air rushed in, clearing the smoke just enough to reveal Tommy’s face, soot-streaked, eyes wide with something dangerously close to relief. Or maybe fear. Or both.

"Took you long enough," Buck croaked, fingers already working the harness straps. His hands shook now not from fear, but exhaustion, the delayed tremor of muscles pushed beyond limits.

Tommy's gaze tracked the blood soaking through Buck's gear, the way his left knee refused to fully straighten. "Christ, Hershey," he muttered, as he reached for Gerrard. Their gloves brushed during the transfer, Tommy's grip lingering half a second too long. You still with me?

Buck answered by swinging himself onto the ladder, his body moving on autopilot even as his vision grayed at the edges. Below them, the building gave one final shudder, the east wing collapsing in on itself in a roar of dust and sparks.

Still clinging to the ladder, Buck looked down at Gerrard's unconscious form slung over Tommy's shoulder, then his gaze cut to meet his friend's eyes.

As Hen's voice crackled over the radio calling for medics, Buck let his forehead rest against the cool metal of the ladder. Just for a second. Just until the world stopped spinning.

“Medics incoming!” Chim called, sprinting across the pavement with a backboard.

Hen was already cracking open her med kit. “His pulse is thready. We need a tourniquet now.”

Tommy eased Gerrard onto the gurney. Blood soaked the backboard before they even finished strapping him in. Hen pressed gauze to the wound and snapped her fingers for suction. Chim moved fast, eyes flicking to Buck, then away like he didn’t want to ask if he was next.

Buck blinked at him, shaking his head slowly. Sal reached out, locking his hand onto his shoulder. “Evan,” he snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Buck didn’t answer.

He didn’t move.

Just stood there, swaying slightly, covered in Gerrard’s blood. Soot streaked every inch of his turnout gear; smoke grime caked in the sweat at his hairline. He blinked slowly, like the scene in front of him didn’t quite match what he was seeing.

Sal’s gut twisted. He stepped closer, voice dropping. “Hey. Look at me kid.”

Buck turned his head, slow and fractured. His eyes were sharp but wrong, glassy with shock. His gaze flinted away, chasing ghosts in the smoke. “C’mon kid, I’ve got you.”

The captain from 131 approached, boots crunching through the glass that littered the concrete, helmet tucked under one arm. He stopped beside them, eyes narrowing with a grim kind of respect. “Hell of a firefighter you’ve got here, Deluca.”

Sal didn’t take his eyes off Buck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

The captain’s tone shifted, quiet and deliberate. “And we all heard Gerrard before the signal cut. The shit he said on open comms. I’ll make sure your next report ends up on the Chief’s desk. This doesn’t get buried.”

Sal looked up, jaw tight. “Appreciate it.”

Behind him, Allen lingered near the engine, whispering low. “You think this gets pinned on us?”

Rodric didn’t answer. He pulled off his helmet with a shaky exhale, fingers trembling against the strap. For a moment, he just stood there, eyes fixed on Buck as he turned and walked straight toward Sal, soot streaked across his jaw.

“I think I’m ready to file that report now, Lieutenant,” Rodric said quietly.

Sal held his gaze, measured, unreadable then gave a single nod. He exhaled once, slow and steady, before turning toward Buck. Stepped in close and caught him gently by the arm. “Alright, Hershey,” he said. “Time’s up.”

Buck blinked again. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Sal grunted, “you’re not fine.” Sal said, stepping in closer. “You’re shaking, bleeding, and barely standing. Sit your ass down, Hershey.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, but Sal’s grip tightened. His other hand lifted, hovered at Buck’s shoulder like he might pull him in but didn’t. “You scared the shit out of me,” Sal said, barely audible now. “Now sit. Please.”

“I got him out.”

“You did.” Sal’s voice cracked just hair. “You got him out.”

He guided Buck toward the spare gurney, slow and steady. Buck didn’t fight it, just stumbled a little when Sal nudged him down onto it. He grabbed a bottle of water from Chim’s open pack and pressed it into Buck’s hand. “Sip. Small sips.”

Buck stared down at it like he couldn’t remember how. His fingers curled around the plastic. He brought it to his lips, then paused. “What’s the report gonna say?” he asked hoarsely.

Sal settled next to him,. “It’s gonna say you carried a man through a structural collapse with a busted leg, smoke-blind, no radio, and live explosives still ticking behind you.”

He met Buck’s eyes. “It’s gonna say you saved his life.”

Buck looked away, back to the civic center.

[askoverkill]

Ooc: can we get an elaboration on some of the other stats like sanity?

Like what they are and how they'll increase / decrease

// everything is rebalanced because fighting is not part of the story.

// atk, def, atk spd <- all useless

// luck <- can only be changed through memory stats or equipment. effects random chance factors such as the darts in puzzle 1

// stamina <- how well is siffrin's body handling everything? usually dips severely over craftwaves, but can be boosted back up with food and rest. (Tied directly to Comfort and Pain TOL)

// DT (Determination) <- Influenced by plot events and a couple of memories. Directly affects siffrin's sanity and sometimes overwrites pain tolerance

// Hunger <- Affects stamina, cured with food! At least, until craft exhaustion from looping takes hold.

// Care <- how much Siffrin cares about the party. it's their highest stat, currently.

// Comfort <- having your body's physical health is one thing, but how does it feel to exist within that body? Can be impacted by body dysphoria, clothing choice, cleanliness, etc. (Tied directly to Stamina and Pain TOL)

// Pain TOL (Tolerance) <- how well does Siffrin handle pain? How fast do they hit their limit? This impacts that. Can drastically change Siffrin's Sanity stat.

// Touch THR (Therapy) <- How adjusted to touch is Siffrin? Starts off at 0, will gradually go up with enough touch therapy. Impacts sanity and comfort.