#but outside of their job they are actually dorks

[handfulofmuses]

shoutout to Bartholomew who was the only one who dared to stand up to Jinx when she took over and refused to bow and got punished for it it's little but that one scene says a lot about him.

[mayababes19]

JJK MEN MOTHER'S DAY + FATHER'S DAY SPECIAL!! (PART 1/2)

☆ Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Choso

☆ AFAB!Reader!

☆ Summary: A late Mother's Day special that I turned into a two-parter

-------------------------------------------------------

Gojo - Gojo is such a dork. Forget fancy things. For Mother's Day, you'll be at an arcade or a sweets café. The only fancy thing you'll get is Disneyland. In Gojo's words, "Nothing fancy can show my love for you. I asked you to be my girlfriend for a reason".

Gojo would make you ride the "It's a Small World" ride because he knows it'll annoy you. From Splash Mountain to the mad tea party, your night is filled with affection and fun. He made an effort to put a smile on your face all day just to see you're beautiful face light up at the end of the night as you both watch the fireworks show at night with amazement. He's mainly looking at you though

Nanami - Now y'all know damn well Nanami is husband material. No debate. Lucky for you, you and Nanami were expecting a healthy baby girl.

It's been a few hours since the birth of your baby girl "Nana". Nanami did everything to make sure you were comfortable. Prepared your food, helped you to the bathroom, took care of Nana as you slept, and even declined every phone call Gojo made to annoy him.

Nanami personally learned how to knit days beforehand and made you and Nana matching hats, he was going to do was support his girls.

Nanami went the extra mile for his mother's day gift because in 3 months, you're going on a cruise with your family

Geto - One thing Geto is going to do is stay classy. No bullshit and no interruptions. He'd purposely pretended to be oblivious of what day it is. Geto would blindfold you and drive you to a fancy restaurant with a good view of the skyline. Once unblinded and in the middle of dinner, Geto casually grabbed a ring box and proposed to you in front of the whole restaurant.

Even though he would be calling the onlookers monkeys by now, his main focus was on you.

Sukuna - You're the only exception. He doesn't care about anyone or anything else on Mother's Day besides you. Ever since he got you pregnant, he's been clingy and more loving even if he doesn't want to admit it. You woke up to roses and your favorite snacks in a giant basket.

"Mornin' brat. Move over"

And just like that, the king of curses is cuddling with you in bed watching your favorite shows and movies. He hates them but he's also secretly intrigued by the dramas

Toji - Toji would send little gifts to your job the days leading up to mother's day. After staying up all night, Toji's plan was finally put together.

After surprising you in bed, Toji dragged you outside to a beautiful sign with your favorite flower(s) and led lights on it and big black letters spelling out,

"Will you marry me?"

Toji would wait till the last minute to buy you an actual gift (He's broke okay 😔) because he went all out on the proposal. Toji saved up some money to take you out to a high-class restaurant and a suit in your favorite color.

After your restaurant date, it was now around 12:45 am. Toji took you out on a late-night drive, he secretly admired how your eyes shined as you looked out the window excitedly looking out at the sky.

Before heading home, Toji bought you ice cream but once you two arrived home he couldn't care less about the ice cream. Like a caveman, Toji scooped you up into his arms while loosening his tie, heading to the bedroom.

"How about I make you a mother?"

"Toji, wait!"

Choso - You and Choso would have a lovely daughter together. Forget her looking like you, she’s a mini Choso just with your eye color.

Choso would purposely turn off your alarm on your phone so you would sleep in and give him time to prepare for your beautiful day. Choso would prepare a bath with roses and candles, breakfast in bed, and coffee. As he’s preparing, he also woke up your daughter, getting her dressed and fed.

By the time you woke up, your bedroom was covered in rose petals, a bouquet, and balloons on your bedside table. No sooner than later, your daughter and Choso walked through the door showering you with love and handing you your breakfast.

After breakfast, Choso gave you and your daughter matching outfits and took you two out to eat.

Choso would ride the carasoul with your daughter, giving quick glances as you recorded the pair. Choso on the other hand, just wants to get off this stupid ride already.

As the day went on, you three went to multiple stores, restaurants/cafés, and did special activities. For the last stop, Choso would take you two to the spot where he proposed to have a picnic together as you the sunset.

But... this Mother's Day wasn't the same.

Once a beautiful family of three, soon turned into a family of two.

@screampied

[lihhelsing]

Part 3

Eddie can barely react when Steve offers to pick him up at his house for their date night.

Eddie is a nervous wreck at this point as he's been with everything that's related to Steve (or related to not-Steve). 

Ever since he first matched with him, Eddie felt like he was living in a parallel world because there was no way in hell someone like him would ever swipe right on someone like Eddie. And yet. It really happened. 

Well, at first it didn't, but then Steve called and said all those nice things to Eddie and fuck if he wasn't easy when someone flattered him. 

But Eddie was also a paranoid shit, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Steve to laugh at him and tell him it was just a prank. For him to ghost him - which maybe would be even worse. 

But Steve didn't and now he was waiting outside of his place in a fucking BMW? What the fuck was that? 

Steve looks good because he always does. They had been exchanging pictures of themselves as they talked and even when Steve was all sweaty and gross from a workout he still looked good. Eddie compensated with good angles and dork faces that Steve said time and time again were adorable. 

He insisted so much that he thought Eddie was cute that Eddie was almost believing him. He had also tried his hardest for their date, putting on some of his favorite clothes, a band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans that made him look good. His hair was down because it felt like a good armor if he needed to hide from something. 

Steve doesn't even give him time to anything before he's smiling and saying 'you look so handsome,' and placing his hand on Eddie's thigh and fuck, he forgot how to breathe. 

"Thanks, you, uh, you look good, too," Eddie blabbers and Steve chuckles and it's adorable. He's adorable and Eddie is losing his shit. 

"Ready for our date?" Steve smiles and turns the car on, his hand heavy on Eddie's leg still. There's a part of Eddie that's sure he's the farthest thing from ready, but this is happening, no question. 

X

Somehow, Eddie tricks Steve into inviting him over after the movie is over. Steve said he wanted to take him to dinner, but he failed to mention dinner was actually eating popcorn and candy at a drive-in. 

Eddie had no notes. 

After the movie started, he managed to relax a bit. Steve seemed to feel it because he, too, relaxed and when they were done with their food, he offered his hand for Eddie to take. He felt giddy like a high-schooler and like Steve had, somehow, known Eddie never had the chance to do any of that in high school.

Despite his fancy car, Steve's apartment is more modest than Eddie expects it to be. He mentioned having a roommate who he's friends with, although he said he just met her over the internet and she hooked him up with the job. 

"So, is she like your best friend or something?" Eddie asks as Steve opens the car door for him as if he's a prince out of a fairy tale. 

"Oh, no. I mean, we're friends and we talk and I really like her company, but I don't think she likes me very much."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugs, but Eddie can tell it's a sore subject‌. Eddie gets it, though. For the little he knows Steve, he can already tell he cares a lot about people liking him or not. He also doesn't understand why someone wouldn't like Steve, but well, people are weird. 

"Is she out?" Eddie asks as they get in the elevator and Steve nods. 

"Yeah, she usually spends Friday nights at her girlfriend's place. That's why I normally get the Friday shift. I kind of hate being home alone and it's just a nice thing to do for her, I guess."

Eddie hums noncommittally. He's trying to piece Steve together, but it's hard because his looks and his posture sometimes say one thing and then he lets out this incredibly vulnerable information and it leaves Eddie confused. 

They walk in together and the place is small, but cute. There's an old couch and Steve tells him to sit down, saying he's getting them some drinks. Eddie doesn't want to drink, he wants to just grab Steve by the face and kiss him dumb. 

Steve doesn't take long and as he sits down, Eddie can't hold it anymore. He has no idea where all this bravado comes from, but he leans forward and pecks Steve on the mouth. Steve's eyes widen and Eddie is about to apologize when two hands cup his face and pull him forward. 

And then they are kissing. Really kissing. With tongue and little huffs that come out of Steve's mouth and Eddie feels like he's died. 

If he is, in fact, dead, then Eddie is going to make the best of it. He lets his hands move to Steve's waist and he pulls him in. He has no idea what he was trying to do, but Steve seems to be much more confident because he straddles Eddie's hips and then he's on top. 

"Fuck," Eddie says. He's completely out of breath and Steve feels so good like this. He grips his waist harder and Steve thinks it's a go-ahead for him to roll his hips down and Eddie sees stars. 

Steve kisses him like he's hungry for him, and it's a heady feeling. Eddie has kissed boys before, but no one that looked like Steve. No one that made his heart skip so many beats like he does. 

No one that seemed to want Eddie as much as Steve does right now. 

"Stevie," Eddie whispers. He's not even sure he managed to get the words out but Steve stops kissing his neck. His pupils are blown out and his mouth is red and swollen and Eddie did that. 

"Yeah?" Steve is out of breath, too. His chest rises and falls in quick intervals. 

"Can we slow down?" Eddie says when he catches his own breath. He's afraid of saying it because it makes him look pathetic, but he doesn't want to rush this. 

They've been talking for a month before they even went out, but Eddie still feels too raw and insecure and-

"Of course, baby," Steve interrupts Eddie's train of thought and he has a soft smile, but he doesn't move away. He's not repelled by Eddie. He leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. 

The pet name wraps itself around Eddie's heart. He's desperate to believe all of this means more than just a casual hook up but he knows he can't. Not yet. 

"Oh, wait! I saved a video I wanted to show you," Steve says as if they weren't eating each other a few short seconds ago. Eddie chuckles. He likes it. He likes how Steve can just roll with whatever Eddie throws his way. 

"Yeah, let's see this video," Eddie smiles, takes a moment to just admire Steve, hair a complete mess thanks to him, face flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looks perfect and Eddie wants to keep him so bad. 

"Wait, can you call my phone? I don't know where I put it." 

Much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve gets out of his lap and pats his pockets, frowning. He starts moving around the house and Eddie fishes his phone, dialing Steve's number from his contact list. 

He watches as Steve disappears back inside the kitchen and listens as his phone starts to ring right beside him, on the couch. Eddie can't see it, so he pushes his hand at the edges and pulls out Steve's phone. 

They must've been making out pretty hard for the phone to go this deeper on the couch. Eddie chuckles and presses the red button at the same time Steve comes back into the living room. 

"Found it! I left it at the kitchen counter when I grabbed us water," Steve says, waving a phone he has in his hands. Eddie frowns at him and holds out the phone he found. 

"Me too."

It's Steve's turn to look confused. "What?"

Previous | Next

[yuri-is-online]

I'm asking this question because I find it an interesting topic. It relates to the criticism the Tokyo Debunker MC receives.

It's not just TD's MC—it's a common theme in otome and gacha games. Genderless MCs in games like *Obey Me!* and *Twisted Wonderland* face less criticism than female MCs. Even though the genderless MCs get some hate, it’s nowhere near the backlash female MCs receive. For instance, *Twisted Wonderland* had debates about a female MC being unsuitable for an all-boys school, despite the presence of monsters and robots. This debate ended with a female MC in the *Savanaclaw* manga.

Another example is *Tears of Themis*, where the female MC is well-received in my opinion due to her having a character. I am very happy that she isn’t a self insert and people seem to agree.

In contrast, female self-insert MCs like TD's MC and *Love and Deep Space*'s MC get a lot of hate for what seems like trivial reasons. TD's MC is often criticized for being ordinary, while LADS's MC, who is strong and brave, also faces backlash, with some claiming she's rude despite evidence to the contrary.

In conclusion.

woman mc in this day of age can’t have flaws now….wait no they can’t be prefect either! As then they are Mary sue! What do you mean that LI are grey sue as well? No that not true Leo having a backstory would justify his actions don’t you get it? What do you mean we should hold the male characters as same standard? Jin treating mc as a servant is her fault as she didn’t say no…..😐 

... so I have two lines of thought about this particular topic, it is something I have thought about for a while because I am working on my own game/games and pay a lot of attention to what people think.

It isn't personality people like it is competence

The love and deepspace MC and Rosa from tears of themis actually have very similar personalities. They are bad at/hate studying. They really love food. They both are sort of dorks and known for being kind. What people like about them isn't any of those things, what they like is that both of them are adult women who you can believe live on their own. They actually have skills related to their jobs, you can believe Rosa is a lawyer and that MC is a hunter, the love interests aren't the only competent people in the narrative. I think this can sort of relate to the target audience for both of these games being working women, but that's for a different post. Right now I really want to focus on that concept of competence: the two other otomes I really love and want to bring up are Amnesia: Memories and Hakuoki. The Amnesia MC makes a lot of really stupid decisions, but as the game title gives away she has amnesia. There is an underlying explanation for why she's a bit dim so I don't see too many complaints about her personality (outside of Toma's route but that is a different story) because you don't exactly expect her to be competent. The same goes for Hakuoki's MC whose name escapes me at the moment, she is the daughter of a doctor so she is never made out to be incompetent in medical matters, but she isn't the best fighter. And she doesn't need to be that's the male love interest's role in this particular story.

The problem with MCs like our dear Luna? I believe you said her default name is, in Tokyo Debunker is that we don't exactly have anything she is stated to be good at beyond boosting Stigmas. The various ikmen games get around this by giving their MCs a job, but we don't have that for Luna so we don't have anything to show some backbone or character so people read her as being a bit of a doormat. Like I have said numerous times before, I don't mind this and think that so long as they keep allowing us to see her thoughts this the writing will be good. A relatively easy fix to this could have been to make her someone who really loves music and constantly talks about it, she was going to a concert at the start of the game so that little bit of character would go a long way for her to be more of a human for people to project themselves onto. Generally speaking, when writing an MC, it is perfectly acceptable to give them certain personality traits and a history. But if you do that you need to make sure the narrative respects that interest and does not use it as an excuse to make the male lead look cooler.

Gender Neutral MCs

*sigh* so you bring up Twisted Wonderland and I uh... have some experience with that fandom! And I have observed the gender wars over Yuu with a weary heart. I genuinely could not care any less about how people identify or the type of o.c.s they make, but some people really really care and if I am honest I find that a bit disturbing. It honestly makes me sad to see fanfic, which used to be a really accepting space, fight over writing... well anything really. m/m blogs screaming about how they don't want fem aligned reading their things, f/f blogs screaming about men, the f/m fic writers feeling the need to defend themselves writing for a female reader- doesn't that exhaust you? Why do you care so much? I do not have the energy to care about people writing fanfic I am not interested in reading, is this because I am anemic or have I managed to be normal about one singular thing?

My personal theory is that the commodification of fanfic and fandom has made people think there is something fundamentally wrong with properties that are marketed towards people who are not them. The reaction to Love and Deepspace not having a male MC option sort of cemented that for me, there is nothing wrong with wanting a game where you can be a man or non-binary and date anime boys. There is also nothing wrong with writing m/m fanfic for a property like lds, or wishing you could play as a man in it. I think there is a genuine market gap in good games for people who aren't fem aligned, but you do not get good games by harassing people or implying they suck for wanting games where you can play as a woman. You get that by financially supporting projects aimed at you! There is a blog I follow on here called @amaregamesdb. They post a bulletin of projects, both vn and if, with an emphasis on making people aware of projects that aren't simply otome (ie male love interests with a female protagonist.) I think the people who run it are also the people who coined the term "amare game" to use for games where the MC isn't necessarily female. They also ran a blog to help people like me learn how to code if/vns so I am very grateful for them, so please do give them your support.

I write for a gender neutral reader because I wanted to write interactive fiction and felt like I needed to practice doing so. I have continued to do because honestly? I really enjoy it. I love seeing how many different people identify with my writing and are moved by it. There are some projects I want to do in the future (original works, not fanfic) that I probably will lock the MC to female for, but I want to continue providing gn fic for people for as long as I write. And original projects too! I have two in particular I am working on behind the scenes. The solution to the problems like "what gender is yuu really," if you will permit me to preach for a second, is to not care. Yana said Yuu was meant to be you, and dear reader I don't actually know who you are! So you can be whoever it is you wish to be in your heart and I will make room for you to sit next to me. I'll even make tea (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[bts-hyperfixation]

Can you please write dumb/cute/random things BTS members will do while they are crushing on reader?

This was cute to write! This is what I think they'd each be like with crushes. Just so you know, all of them are dorks.

Please send me asks to keep me motivated while I’m off work! Thirsty thoughts, Most likely to, reactions, life updates, and general gibberish welcomed!!

Namjoon:

If Namjoon has a crush on you he gets extra clumsy. In his head, he is trying to be the most sophisticated person on earth, think W sexy numkim Namjoon. however in reality he is actually fumbling at every step, stuttering and tripping his way through conversations, beating himself up a little inside every time he rambles on a bit too long about something. Eventually, he just gives up on trying to impress you because he is too in his head and thinks he doesn't have a chance. Ironically that is when he manages to be more comfortable around you and stops breaking things. He still info dumps, but because he is a little less self-conscious about it, he allows it to flow more naturally and you can have a proper conversation without him disappearing to berate himself for talking too much. If the crush progresses to you hanging out he will always bring a little gift, sometimes snacks, sometimes a trinket that makes him think of you. He will send you pictures of things in nature that remind him of you, and take you to museums where certain sculptures or paintings reflect his feelings or your likeness. 

Seokjin:

None stop trying to make you laugh. Probably refers to himself as worldwide handsome a lot to garner your attention like: "Hey Y/N, did you know they call me WWH?", or "Did you miss my WWH face?". It's a good job that he is in fact very pretty or it would get annoying. Although you tell him every time that it annoys you while using the opportunity to slap/feel up his bicep. He stops by your workplace every day to try and see you, but he is trying to be subtle as he does it, making up genuine excuses as to why he is there. Gets exceedingly disappointed when your coworkers tell him you are on a break because it would be too suspicious if he came back later on. 

Yoongi:

He starts by offering you some of his food, claiming he has too much and he thought you might not have eaten yet (It's 10:30 am, of course, you haven't eaten yet). Then he is bringing in bigger meals claiming to be trying new recipes and then always making too much (He is trying new recipes, they happen to be some of your favourites. He is also sizing up the recipe to have enough for you both and more). He will invite you to listen in on some tracks he is working on, saying they are nowhere near finished but he wants an outside opinion (They are mostly finished, and mostly about you).

Hoseok:

Strikes me as a straight forward man. You are absolutely going to know if he has a crush on you. There is no messing about he just asks you out... and then hyperventilates about it as soon as he is behind a closed door. It doesn't matter if you answered yes or no that was the most fear-inducing thing he has ever done, debut stage included. He keeps the brave front when around you at all times though. He is very good at pretending to be confident and charming even when his heart is trying to beat out of his ribcage. He makes a point of kissing your hand when he sees you, like the way you giggle and blush.

Jimin:

Similar to Namjoon, goes from being the most coordinated guy in the world to tripping over his own shoes. He blushes furiously every time you walk in the room and struggles to form full sentences. The others rip the shit out of him for being so nervous when you leave. He spends most of his time with his head in his hands hiding the red in his cheeks rather than making eye contact. Eventually, the butterflies die down and he decides he needs to man up and make a move. He refuses to let Jeon - couldn't make eye contact with a woman until he turned twenty-two - Jungkook make fun of him for being anxious, so he swallows the fear and makes a move. Then his flirting becomes relentless: He leans against walls and cages you in a little, he uses pickup lines and keeps calling you beautiful, and he refers to you with pet names. He tries everything he can to make you as flustered as you made him before he asks you out, god-forbid you fight flirty fire with fire.

Taehyung:

He follows you around like a lost puppy when he can. If he is around you will never have to carry anything or open a door. He gives you expensive gifts that you aren't allowed to refuse, if you do they just end up at your house later on in the day. He claims most of them are leftovers from brand deals, but some of them are coming from brands you swear they've never worked with. He frequently brings you smoothies and snacks too. Even if he isn't around he will have them delivered to your work, sometimes for your whole office, not just you. If you try to tell him to stop he just makes the tata mic face until you come to a compromise that he will stop sending you drinks if you let him take you out for one. 

Jungkook:

If he figures out he has a crush on you, you will not see him for 8-16 days. The first day he realises he will look at you with the widest eyes and blinks a little too slowly, he then excuses himself as soon as possible. He then spends days in his house typing and erasing a text to send to you. It gives him a heart attack when typing bubbles appear because that means you've seen him lurking. He eventually figures out what he wants to do with his crush and then you struggle to get rid of him, not that you necessarily want to, although he did almost follow you into a bathroom once because he was too busy talking and not paying attention to where you were going. When he gets drunk on his own at home he always texts you, nothing serious or even damning, he just is genuinely missing you. It probably comes across wrong because its always 2am, but he is innocently just wondering how you are. Once you fall in to a conversation it is obvious that it wasn't meant as a booty call, as much as you sometimes might wish it was.

[teamatsumu]

Praise (Atsumu x reader one shot)

Summary: Atsumu won’t stop complimenting you, always telling you how beautiful you are. You think he’s full of crap.

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive language, swearing

A/N: Okay, first Atsumu one shot, finally. Hopefully yall like it!

Your short huffs and the click, click, click of your heels were the only sounds on the concrete of the parking lot as you made your way to your car. The night air was particularly still today, causing you to build up a sweat within minutes of being outside. You fumbled with your tiny purse to pull out your keys, settling into the driver’s seat before sighing and letting your shoulders slump. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the seat, feeling your lips turn into a frown.

This did not go how you thought it would.

Your date was nice enough. He was kind and asked all the right questions. He hummed in all the right places and told you enough about himself and his life to get you intrigued. You were feeling very happy with how the night was progressing. You were sure, positive, that there would be a second date. How could there not? You both were vibing like crazy.

It seems you had completely misread him though.

Right outside the restaurant, just as you were about to suggest you two go for a little walk and continue talking, he had raised a sheepish hand to rub the back of his neck, apologizing that you just weren’t his type. He thought he was being subtle when he looked you up and down as he said it, but you knew what he meant immediately.

He didn’t find you attractive.

If this had been a few years ago, you would’ve been crushed at the thought. But you were no longer the timid girl from high school anymore. You were a grown woman with a good career. Things like this didn’t faze you much now. You were more annoyed than anything else at having wasted your one free night on something like this. Dating wasn’t something you were particularly interested in at this point in your life, not when you had finally started settling in at your job. And the thought that tomorrow at work a certain blond setter would ride your ass until you told him how the date went made you scowl even harder.

Sometimes you wondered if Atsumu had ever heard the word ‘professionalism’ in his life. He sure as hell didn’t show it. Especially when it came to you.

You had joined MSBY as their brand new manager seven months ago. You had been slightly timid at first, and way in over your head, having to manage a V1 Volleyball team right off the bat. Combine that with how hyper some of the members could be, and you had the perfect recipe for chaos. At that time, you hadn’t anticipated that these boys would become some of your closest friends. And you couldn’t have ever dreamed that Miya Atsumu of all people would be the one you’re most fond of.

Atsumu loved to claim that you had caught his eye as soon as he saw you, boasting that he had seen your potential and that you would be sticking with them for a long time. He had been right, of course. MSBY was notorious for going through managers like they were candy. No one stuck around after the first month. Except you, and Atsumu liked to think it was because of him.

True to his nature, he had flirted with you endlessly since you joined the team. If it wasn’t corny one-liners that showed you just how much of a dork he was, it was stupid and sleazy innuendos that made Sakusa groan and glare at him in distaste every time. Nothing deterred Atsumu though. He was hell bent on reminding you that you were the ‘prettiest manager we ever had’. And he thinks it’s because he made you feel so welcome (his words not yours), that you had stuck around for so long.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his incessant flirting had actually made things much more difficult for a while.

It was Atsumu who had hyped up the prospect of you going on a date. He had ranted and raved that your date was a ‘lucky son of a bitch’ and how you would blow him away the minute he saw you. He had gone on and on until you were red in the face and scolding him to stop and get back on the court to practice.

You blamed him for your current predicament actually. No matter how much you ignored him or shot him down, his constant compliments had gotten to you. How could they not? You were still human, and Atsumu was, by your own admission, an attractive guy. Him telling you that you look beautiful more or less every day had given you this false confidence in yourself and that’s why you had agreed to go on a date in the first place.

(You knew your reasoning was a stretch. But blaming Atsumu felt good so you went with it.)

Your phone pinged, shaking you from your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at the phone screen. Speak of the devil.

Miya: How’s it goin’? Ya gettin laid tonite? ;)

You rolled your eyes at the text. Thumbs typing a reply quickly.

You: Make me something to eat. Preferably ramen.

Miya: Aw no :( That bad?

You didn’t reply, putting the car in gear and heading over to your new destination.

……………………………..

A steaming bowl of beef noodles waited for you at the Miya residence, which you slurped down even though you had dinner not even an hour ago. Atsumu puttered around in the kitchen behind you as you half-focused on whatever volleyball game he was going through on the TV. You had hiked your dress up to your hips, Atsumu’s gray sweatpants covering your legs. Your hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of your head to keep it off your sweaty neck.

He finally sat down next to you with his own bowl, and the sounds of slurping and gulping overtook the thumps and cheers coming from the screen in front of you. For a minute, you two basked in the silence.

“So what happened?” He asked with a full mouth, voice slightly muffled. His eyes were still focused on the screen before him.

You sighed and chewed. “He said I wasn’t his type.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes at that and made a face. “‘Course yer not. Yer way too much for him ta handle.”

You gave him an offended look. “Huh?”

Atsumu nodded. “I mean, look at ya.” He gestured vaguely with his chopsticks. “And in that dress? Phew.”

You rolled your eyes. “You always do this, Miya. You always say all this mushy crap. This is all your fault.”

That made him pause, wide brown eyes looking at you. “Ha? How is it ma fault? What did I do?”

You glared down at your bowl as you thought of your next words. “You always talk about how beautiful I am,” you cringed. “Saying all these things to make me feel confident. Then I talk to an actual guy and realize you had built me up for nothing.”

Silence filled the space between you two as you stuffed another generous helping of noodles into your mouth, glaring at the TV and trying to ignore Atsumu’s stare on the side of your head as he set his bowl down on the coffee table.

“Okay, first of all, what do ya mean by ‘actual guy’?” He pouted in indignation, crossing his arms. You nearly snorted at the image. “Second, I never lied to ya! Not once! Well-” he stopped abruptly and pursed his lips in thought. “That dress ya wore for Bokuto’s birthday last month was fuckin’ hideous but-”

“Hey!”

“But that’s the dress’s fault, not yers!” He finished loudly. “I mean, ya still looked fuckin’ gorgeous-”

“Stop-” You held a hand up, placing your bowl next to Atsumu’s before frowning at him. “That’s what I’m talking about. Why do you keep doing that?”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Ya think I’m lyin’? Ya think yer not pretty?”

You shrugged. “I mean, I’m okay.”

Atsumu was already shaking his head at you, still scowling, his arms crossed. You trailed off and stared at him. It felt like you were being scolded like a child.

“I wouldn’ lie to ya, Y/N.” He said quietly. “Ya gotta be one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. Like for real.” He ruffled his hair a bit, sighing. “That jerk made ya get all insecure ‘bout yerself. I gotta fix this.”

You could feel your neck heat up at his words, looking back at the TV when the sight of him became too much. This is exactly what annoyed you about Atsumu. He was too blasé about saying this stuff. He came off as so intimate at times, his words crossed so many boundaries. He didn’t even realize how much you were affected by his bold remarks, especially when he was sitting right there before you, in a black tee that stretched just right over his chest, and shorts that showed off his gorgeous thighs-

You closed your eyes and breathed deep and thinking about his words. How the hell was he going to “fix” this?

You nearly yelped out loud when you felt something soft make contact with your lips, eyes popping open to comprehend that Atsumu, your annoying, volleyball-playing, smirking, rowdy, smoking hot coworker was kissing you, placing a hand behind your head so you wouldn’t pull away, moving his lips over yours so deliciously it made your breath stutter and your eyelids flutter shut, until you were giving in and kissing him back. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, feeling yourself melt when Atsumu thumbed at the corner of your jaw, tilting your head so his mouth fit against you better. Your hands remained frozen in your lap, unable to move in case it broke the spell over you two. You let him guide the kiss, reveling in how soft his lips felt and how good he smelled so up close.

It felt like it was over too soon when you separated with a last, loud smooching sound that made your cheeks flush. Your breaths mingled, Atsumu not pulling away more than a few inches. You looked into his wide brown eyes, saw how his pupils dilated, the red that was creeping up from his neck to his ears.

“Ya believe me now?” He muttered, staring directly at your lips with a look so heated that it made your insides squirm. You hummed.

“I think,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to need a lot more convincing.”

He smirked at that, a teasing glint entering his eyes as his lips met yours again, harder this time, more sure, pushing forward until you were falling back into the plush cushion beneath you and his massive frame was hovering over you, the sounds of the TV completely ignored in the background.

…………………………….

Let me know what you think! Request are open x

[ohworm-writes]

I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT STATION 141. PLEASE. for a friend definitely not for me thinking about how fucking FINEEE good they would be.

「✰」 ━━ STATION 141

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : light cursing, depictions of a vehicle accident, fires, mentions of injuries, references to and depictions of smoking, peer pressure (?), depiction of a house fire, mentions of and references to 9/11, implications to alcoholism, brief mentions of guilt and insecurity ]

SYNOPSIS Character explorations for the members of Task Force 141 in the case that they opted towards working for the fire department instead of the military, expanding on what the roles they play are, their backgrounds before pursuing the profession, and a few headcanons, here and there.

WORD COUNT 4.9k

Station!141

Firefighters are known for being dorks and pranksters outside of their profession when they’re trying to relax and ease the tension that comes with the job, and Station 141 is no different. Gaz and Soap are the resident pranksters, of course, and perhaps that comes with being the youngest out of anyone employed at the station. But, unfortunately, that leaves Price and Ghost to deal with their tormentation, both the acts and the aftermath of it.

Soap and Gaz do simpler, more tame pranks. Something like dumping water over someone’s head, pieing someone in the face when their backs are turned, or if they’re dozing off, switching the salt and the sugar—that kind of stuff. Simple, annoying pranks—those are elementary. Ghost and Price are evil when it comes to pranking, or, more accurately, getting people at people for pranking them. They’ve replaced the water in the ice cube trays with hotdog water, put cling wrap over the toilet bowl, replaced shampoo with hair dye, and done other things that you wouldn’t even dream of. The two of them get really creative with it. 

Gaz very quickly stopped pranking the two after Ghost snuck into his house and hid those really loud alarm clocks with the bells everywhere, setting forty of them up to go off in the middle of the night. When they went off, he screamed so loudly that he swore he had a heart attack because of it. Soap’s a masochist, though, and he keeps on pranking the both of them without any sign of stopping. He’s never able to one-up Ghost or Price, though, that’s for certain. It’s a challenge for him, though, and it’s fun (sometimes, not often, though). 

Granted, most firefighters already do this, but making fun of, taunting, and mocking cops is a given, and the 141 boys are no different. Soap hooked a donut onto a fishing line once, positioning himself on top of the firetruck, staying hidden, and dangling it above a cop when they were visiting the station one time. They locked onto it quickly. Another time, he did the same sort of thing but left a donut on the floor attached to a fishing line, pulling it closer towards him any time a cop tried to come close to it. Also, plain and simple: making pig sounds. 

They do have a fire dog of their own at the station, actually! And, of course, ever the classic choice, it’s a Dalmatian. In terms of technicality, it’s the Chief’s dog, given that he bought the thing... but, ever the generous man, he allowed the station to adopt the dog as their own. They all fought over the name for days, with some individuals actually getting heated about the matter. Price eventually got sick of it, went down to a pet store, and printed out a tag for the pup, a circular tag that reads the name ‘Ozzie’ with the station’s address printed on the back. Nobody argues against it. 

Soap isn’t the biggest fan of dogs as is, but Ozzie loves him, trailing after him and following his lead without hesitation, the others often joking about how the animal played his shadow better than his own did. Ozzie’s the only dog he likes, but he won’t admit it aloud, giving the dog a playful rub on the head here and there when someone’s around and roughhousing and playing freely with him when they’re alone. Gaz and Price are unabashed in their affection for the canine (Price has bought everything for this dog, he swears it), while Ghost is more or less neutral about his presence, but he won’t deny him a good rub behind the ears if he barks enough.

Let’s spend a moment talking about and appreciating the uniforms that firefighters wear, yeah? Station wear is typically worn around all the time, even under their PPE uniforms when out on calls. It consists of a short or long-sleeved button-up shirt, sometimes as simple as a t-shirt, which is navy blue in color and often sports the insignia of the department or the station or something of the like or any relevant patches. They’re matched with navy blue or black pants, giving the whole outfit a formal yet equally comfortable look.

As for PPE uniforms, the bunker pants are held up by a set of suspenders and matching jacket, often being either black or tan in color with long yellow or red reflective strips stretched out along the fabric at the chest, waist, shoulders, wrists, shins, back, and legs, with knee pads visible from the front of the uniform. The color can depend on either the rank the firefighter holds or, simply, what’s in stock.

But, just to state it, each and every one of the boys within the station looks good in their uniforms. They fit snugly in just the right places and loosely in others, especially the station wear—not to say the PPE doesn’t do the same, but rather, it looks good in the sense that we can all appreciate a man in uniform, now can’t we? PPE uniforms are designed to not fit snugly, providing more mobility that way, and they’re rather bulky. This, however, doesn’t at all negate the fact that the men within Station 141 look fuckin’ good in them.

As a matter of fact, the boys often get a lot of people who come up and flirt with them shamelessly. Sometimes, it can be a bit of a nuisance, with civilians watching from the sidelines as they respond to a call, making flirtatious and lustful remarks—it's distracting, in more negative ways than positive, in complete honesty. Though, when they’re off duty, maybe dressed in a tee with the station’s logo, they can be entertained. 

Gaz was shell-shocked the first time he was flirted with by someone for nothing more than his profession (and, honestly, it pissed him off a little, but he wouldn’t say that aloud), and he was turned into a confused, awkward mess, trying to get himself out of the interaction. Soap will entertain them as much as his attention can handle, but after that? He’s giving polite nods and hums here and there, but he isn’t listening all that much. Ghost just tells people he’s married, even though he isn't—he isn’t all that fond of getting flirted with on the basis of solely his job, much like Gaz. Price, honestly? He could care less. Have at him. 

One of the scariest moments that the station went through where one of the boys lives’ were at stake was in the case of a methanol fire that had broken out on the highway as a result of a crash. A car had run head-on into a truck that carried a methanol chemical tank, which had been damaged and spilled. Nothing bad happened until the car involved in the accident caught fire, lighting the methanol and causing an invisible flame to spread. While all of the boys were on scene, Gaz was busy helping one of the civilians out of their car from the wreck when the fire started. 

Obviously, immediately, he jumped away from the civilians, not wanting to catch them on fire too—they didn’t, thankfully—but Gaz was left screaming and yelling for help as the fire began to burn through his PPE equipment. Ghost put out the flame with a CO2 ABC extinguisher, realizing what the cause was immediately, but Gaz still suffered through some heavy burns along his back, legs, and arms and rushed to the hospital sooner after being put out. 

The first time Soap tried to go down the fire pole during the fire academy, he sprained his ankle, not knowing how to descend it properly and just shooting straight down onto his foot. He was fine, thankfully, but nobody ever let him live it down. Ghost tells him to be careful with this big, smug grin spread out across his face anytime Soap rushes through the fire house to go towards the fire pole to descend the floors (he flips him off each and every time, rightfully so). 

Price tries to call out sick every time he thinks it’s going to rain. For anyone who knows anything about first responders, it’s that they hate it when it rains. It’s a guarantee for more accidents, more calls, and, put simply, more work. Price has been working long enough in the field to know this, so he just so happens to catch the cold or the flu any time he sees it’s going to downpour—unless, of course, someone calls in sick before him and he can’t get out of work, or if he fails to check the weather. He’s pissed off for the rest of the day, and he makes it everyone’s problem. 

Soap is the one who's driving the truck, obviously, with Price sitting in the passenger’s seat. Behind Soap sits Ghost, and Gaz sits across from him. It’s lively whenever they go on calls together; most of the conversation in the truck is devoted to work, but there are more than a few occasions when they’ll just talk comfortably together. Especially on the rides back to the station from calls, usually when it’s getting late at night. That’s when the most heartfelt conversations happen. 

Overall? A dorky yet hardworking group of firefighters dedicated to their professions, sharing a bond like no other. 

Firefighter!Price

He, of course, plays the role of ‘Captain’ at the station, primarily due to the fact that this role does actually exist as a role within the profession; while I would have made him the ‘Chief’, the ‘Captain’ plays a way more present role as the commander of a company and overseeing the daily operations of a station. Chiefs, typically, only supervise and view the situation as is, not often actually being a part of the process of resolving an incident.

Firefighter!Price, who, contrary to popular belief, does not, in fact, smoke. It’s not as if he’s prohibited from smoking, per se, especially given that around 13.6 percent of firefighters smoke, but it’s more of a moral thing for him—his job is to fight fires, and cigarettes and other smoking materials make up a huge percentage of top fire causes, so it seems, to him, like a stupid decision to make to smoke. Also, it would affect his ability to do his job, and it just looks bad to have someone that people are supposed to look up to doing something like that, so he doesn’t.

Firefighter!Price, who, okay, yes, has smoked a cigarette and cigar at one point in his life, maybe once or twice, or a few more times than that, but never consistently. It’s not a habit that he has or ever indulges in, only having ever taken part in it thanks to a friend or two offering him a cigarette or cigar, outstretched hands taunting him, and teasing “c'mon, one puff ain’t gonna kill ya’, mate”, to which he relents. He hates the taste of cigarettes, and he refuses to go anywhere near one again, but he can entertain a cigar around the right company. 

Initially, he had intended on joining the military straight out of secondary school; however, a few months before he intended on joining, he bore witness to a violent house fire within his neighborhood. The house had been completely engulfed in flames, with smoke pluming into the sky and the flames spreading to a few nearby houses. He watched on with awe as the fire department showed up with swiftness and took care of the situation with ease, resulting in no casualties whatsoever. 

Although, yes, the job was far from being a proper equivalent to the military, it still provided a similar sense of fulfillment, and he would still be protecting innocents. (On a morbid note, his life would still be consistently on the line and threatened.) Thus, he joined the profession when he was around nineteen, working as a volunteer firefighter for a few years before eventually taking on the job full-time. He’s worked with numerous different stations and companies for the past ten years, give or take a few, and he’s made a number of different connections throughout different departments. 

Firefighter!Price, who toys with his suspenders when he’s clad in uniform like it’s a second job. It’s an unconscious habit he’s developed with the elastic straps, and there’s a certain progression it follows—it's like clockwork. It’ll start off with him simply hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of the trousers of his bunker gear, holding himself there comfortably as he stands and walks around the station—casual, if anything. But then, it slowly starts to progress further, with his hands wandering, his fingers gently trailing up and down the straps, and his calloused fingers brushing over the material in a repetitive up-and-down motion.

Firefighter!Price, who holds onto his suspenders near his chest in a loose grip, his thumbs grazing back and forth over them, pulling them not even an inch away from his chest, just holding them there. That is, of course, before he starts to snap the elastic against his chest, gently or not, it doesn’t matter; the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he repeats the action over and over and over again—it's something to do with his hands; he’s restless, and who can blame him?

Firefighter!Price, whose natural scent is simply smoke, the acrid redolence of sulfur clinging to his skin like a parasite, a second skin that he’s come to call his own. No matter how many times he washes his clothes until they start to fade into a lighter shade, no matter how many times he scrubs his skin until it blotches into harsh, raw, red patches, that scent still clings to him. It’s, in a sense, becoming a part of him, molding in with his natural musk effortlessly until it becomes it, a scent identifiable to him, whether that’s for better or for worse, he wouldn’t know.

Firefighter!Ghost

Again, of course, Ghost plays the role of ‘Lieutenant’ at the station, which is a role that falls directly under ‘Captain’, leaving him tasked with typical daily operations, readying their crew for emergency situations, and supervising the Engine or Rescue Company and the personnel within it, reporting directly to the Fire Captain or Chief, acting as a temporary captain, should they be absent from a scene.

Firefighter!Ghost, who kids absolutely adore. He can come off scary and intimidating, sure, given the fact that he’s, put simply, a huge guy, not to mention the balaclava he often sports that conceals his identity. But kids still think he’s the coolest guy in the whole world. Being a firefighter already has its own charms; several kids are asking him about his profession and how their dream job is to become a firefighter when they grow up, like him. He’s a bit awkward, unsure of how to respond to all of the compliments and praise, but takes it in stride.

Firefighter!Ghost, who has to deal with the fact that nearly every kid he comes across adores him, soon decides to just embrace it, honking the horn on the engine any time he passes by kids who wave at him or whose eyes light up when they see the truck, relishing in the way they let out loud, excited yells. Whenever kids come by the station, either for field trips or to simply ask if they can have a tour, he takes up the task of touring them around, lifting each and every one into the truck, watching as they giggle, laugh, and smile so brightly at him. 

A close friend of his who became a firefighter from secondary school was the one who eventually got him into the field, the friend in question having joined a little more than half a year after the two of them had graduated, though he didn’t immediately and solely join due to his friend’s encouragement. He still worked as an apprentice butcher for nearly two years after graduating at a local grocery store; that job kept up most of his focus, though instead of joining the military after September 11th, he chose to join the fire department.

(Because the fire department played such a large role in this event, I thought it would match more appropriately than him joining the military, like his background states in his biography.)

His friend was the one to tell him everything he needed to have before joining: his certifications, his license, his CPAT, et cetera. He completed each task without any hesitation or reluctance, and he was even willing to get a degree in Fire Science if it meant he would get into the profession. He passed the academy with ease and, soon after, was offered a volunteer position working at the same station his friend was positioned at, transferring, unfortunately, without him to Station 141 a year and a half later, though the two still keep in touch regularly. 

Firefighter!Ghost, who comes back to the station after a long day of rough calls, be it mentally or physically grueling, likely both, hops off the truck with deep, guttural breaths, beginning to strip himself of his PPE as he makes his way towards the locker rooms, hanging and folding everything up, his SCBA first, then his helmet, then his bunker gear, before he finally tears off his balaclava—his hair’s completely damp with sweat, beads dripping down his face, splayed across his forehead messily, letting out an exhausted sigh, running a hand through his hair, slicking the blond strands back across his skull.

Firefighter!Ghost, who takes a seat on one of the benches in the locker room, leans over with his elbows on his knees, his hands falling limp in the space between them, his back slumped over, and his shoulders dropped. His station wear is stained with sweat; the skin around his eyes and across the bridge of his nose darkened from the smoke that had penetrated through, dirt clinging to his body like a second skin. His suspenders hang off around his waist lazily, clinking against the bench as he shuffles around, letting out a long, drawn-out groan before standing and moving to rid himself of the day’s events with a well-deserved shower.

Firefighter!Ghost, whose vice falls to liquor. It’s nothing close to an excessive extent, but it’s enough to take the edge off and ease his mind from the horrors that come with the profession. It's a heavy task to fulfill, and having worked in the field for so long, enough so that he’s become an officer, that means he’s seen his fair share of shit, so who can blame him? After a particularly rough day, he’ll take a seat in the common room or his dorm, hand gripped tightly around the neck of a bottle of Bourbon, mask pulled up to his nose, drinking until his head spins and he can’t think. He'll wake up with a hangover that bashes against his skull, wash his face, and prepare himself for the day, only to repeat this cycle over and over again—maybe it is a bit excessive.

Firefighter!Soap

In a more unique aspect, Soap, instead of simply being a firefighter, works as a Firefighter Engineer, his primary focus being directed towards maintaining and driving firefighting vehicles and performing maintenance tasks on the vehicles. Though, still, he does play his role as a firefighter all the same, his specialized position not interfering or making it so that he has to do one or the other. He’s still put in his time to become a firefighter and accomplish the tasks that come with the profession, and he does his job well; all it is is that he plays a specialized role in addition to that fact. 

Firefighter!Soap, whose dorm is positively filled with the drawings and doodles he’s received personally when he and his crew visit local primary schools to teach them about fire safety and how to properly act during a fire drill, spends a significant amount of time telling the kids all about their careers and what they do, giving them a tour of the truck and everything. And, by the end of the day, three or four separate kids had given him drawings they had made of him and his crew. One little girl in particular gifts her drawing to him, and it’s just of him and her, holding hands, his mohawk overexaggerated, with a message written out sloppily, stating, 'I want to be just like you when I grow up!!!’.

Firefighter!Soap, who tapes each drawing he receives to the mirror in his dorm, the one he gets ready in front of each and every day without fail, fingers gently grazing over the different people within the pictures, each messy stroke of crayon, colored pencil, and washable marker. It’s a reminder to him of why he does what he does. Of why he puts his life on the line each and every day without fail. When the job gets tough and unbearable, the weight of it laying heavy on his shoulders, guilt and insecurity eating up at him, he looks at the drawings, memorizing them, committing every detail to memory—he has to make those kids proud by keeping on. And so he does. 

He dropped out of university to become a firefighter. He initially majored in the field of Military Technologies and Applied Sciences, specializing in the fields of Explosive Ordinance and Bomb Disposal, but after spending nearly five semesters in school, he concluded that the field and higher education weren’t something he was willing to pursue. So, he applied to become a firefighter when he was twenty-one, spending the first year and a half working towards getting his EMT certification and taking his CPAT, already having his driver’s license, and spending the next six months in the fire academy before he was eventually employed as a volunteer firefighter.

He spent the next two years working as a volunteer firefighter, not yet deciding to take on the role of a full-time firefighter, given he had a bit of apprehension and worries about taking on the job for longer hours. However, it was soon after he first became a volunteer firefighter that he learned about the career path of a firefighter engineer, which garnered his interest, which eventually led him down the path of driver training before ending up with the position and taking on the job full-time. 

Firefighter!Soap, who can’t even help the way his muscles flex as he works, which is most visible when he’s in his station wear—that short-sleeved button-up shirt hugging onto his biceps with ease, his pants holding onto his thighs snugly—it's the perfect combination of loose and tight. It leaves nothing and everything up for the imagination to think of. Especially when he’s sweating through his top, the fabric clings to his skin like a glove, showing off every inch of him without shame. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is so unconscious of how strong he actually is, regularly wearing equipment that can weigh up to seventy-five pounds (34.01 kilograms), not to mention the weight of the hose and the pressure it exudes, the way he has to control it, or all of the other equipment he uses while on the job. Because he’s so unaware of it, this just leads to him picking up some of the heaviest things—people, too—and acting as if they were nothing, because, to his credit, it isn’t anything to him. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is an earlier riser. He wakes up the earliest of anyone who works at the station, being the first one to arrive at work if he’s sleeping off site. He tidies up what he sees, maybe goes out and grabs some coffee or pastries for his co-workers, and just relaxes and basks in the silence of the station—that is, before the others begin to arrive, of course. If he’s sleeping on site? Same thing. The only difference is that he doesn’t have to rush around like he typically would; driving to work takes up the most of his time, so he can work at his leisure if he's already at the station.

Firefighter!Gaz

Gaz, arguably the coolest of them all (it’s not an arguable statement whatsoever; it’s just a fact), gets the job, plain and simple, of just being a firefighter. Responding to emergency calls, performing search and rescues, providing aid with traffic accidents, and educating the public on fire safety are just some of the tasks he completes each and every day. The job is both physically and mentally grueling. Yes, the horrors that can come with the job are unlike any other, but god, is it such a rewarding profession to be able to see the direct result of your actions 

Firefighter!Gaz, who actually really enjoys having new recruits shadow under him their first few months on the job. Even in meeting them for the first time, he has such a welcoming and warm personality, not at all shy to introduce himself, how long he’s been working in the field, the ups and downs of the job—everything! He spends a lot of time getting to know the recruit, not just in a professional sense but a personal one, too, and it fosters such an accepting environment that the recruit can become comfortable in, which is the whole goal!

Firefighter!Gaz, who can be stern sometimes when it comes to teaching newer recruits, but those occasions come far and few between, favoring a gentler, kinder approach of encouragement and redirecting and teaching the recruits on how to properly hook up the truck to a hydrant or operate the pressure controls for the water on the truck as opposed to yelling and barking out orders with a firm strictness. The Chief typically sends all of the new recruits over to Gaz for this exact reason, and, as you might have guessed, these recruits become professionals in no time. 

Unlike the others, Gaz actually had the intention of joining the fire department since he was young. He was one of those little boys who had a number of different toy trucks and cars and played with them obsessively, and his favorites were the firefighter trucks. His dream of becoming a firefighter was solidified when they came to his primary school one day. One of the firefighters present gifted him one of those crappy plastic helmets, letting him sit in the truck and telling him everything he wanted to know. 

From that point onwards, he dedicated himself to becoming a firefighter, spending years getting himself into the ideal physical shape required for the job, taking medical and health courses throughout secondary school to prepare himself for the EMT training program he’d apply to take once he turned eighteen, obtaining his license as quickly as possible—he's devoted to the career path, and he fully intends to push every ounce of his being into fulfilling the role to the best of his abilities, and then some. The day he graduates from the fire academy, in addition to actually receiving an offer to join a station as a volunteer firefighter, he swears up and down, is single-handedly the best day of his life. 

Firefighter!Gaz, who's almost always the first one to rush inside a burning building, given that it’s still structurally stable and will remain that way for the duration of time that he’s inside, holds a hatchet in both hands, firmly grasped, kicking the front door inwards before making his way through the interior. He’s completely composed, not an inch of doubt taunting him as he sweeps the area, finding civilians and immediately working to usher them out of the building, barking orders in a way where it sounds less like a command, so softer and so much more filled with care. He can easily sling anyone over his shoulder, hold them in his arms, or lift them on his back if need be, rough grunts resounding from him, strained at times from both the heat and the weight of carrying another human being.

Firefighter!Gaz, who doesn't ever complain or tell the other person to move and fend for themselves, because that’s his job, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fulfill it to the fullest. Given he doesn’t have any civilians to worry about, he’s rushing through flames, heat nipping at his PPE, trying its hardest to penetrate the fabric, failing while he comes out of the building, fire trailing after him, smoke and dirt caking his body beneath his uniform, and labored breaths wracking his body. All he can do is rip off his SCBA when he's at a safe distance from the smoke, mask off, sweat dripping down his skin, soak his hair, and kick his head back as he breathes the smell of anything but smoke.

Firefighter!Gaz, who always walks around the station in his bunker gear, is ready to go at a moment's notice. He's rarely seen in something as simple as his station wear, complaining that the uniform is unnecessary to be seen in if he’s going to change into his bunker gear anyway. In reality, the weight of the gear is comforting to him—it's heavy, yes, and can leave him sweating until he’s certain he’s drenched if he’s in it for too long—but the weight, feel, smell, and overall “vibe” of the bunker gear is something he’s spent his whole life dreaming of. Why be out of it if he’s dedicated his life to becoming the person to wear it?

[shhh-secret-time]

hello ^^, i saw your secret soulmate au about craig, i don't have the words to explain how much i giggled, twirled my hair and everything XD! well, when you have the time, could you do a craig x clyde x reader smut? of course, if you feel comfortable with it! reader can be female or gn. it's practically normal smut but just craig fucking the reader from behind and clyde from the front, so that's it! tysm for reading, i love your writing too! <33 -✨️ Anon (I'm still new to tumblr so i might get confused on some things sometimes!)

Completely understandable, I too am confused with how tumblr works and I've been on this godless site since fucking Dash Con. I'm glad you liked the way I wrote those dorks! And thank you for fueling my Clyde agenda!

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Sub/Dom dynamics, blow jobs, orgasm denial, threesome

Pairing: Clyde x Fem!Reader x Craig

The sweet air of the votives swirls around the empty church. Empty except for the dim orange and red light that illuminates the book in the man's hand.

A woman at his feet, clothed in fine silks. A mix of reds and whites that twine together. Beautiful patterns of stars flow across the dress.

She dips her head in prayer alongside the man. The father of the church glides his fingers across her cheek as her mouth closes. Reciting scriptures of one's devotion for an unseen God. Everything in that moment was peaceful.

The warmth in the Father's eyes doesn't go unnoticed, the greens darken with a desire that he knows better than to have. It's difficult to hide the growing ache in his pants. More so when the woman's lips curl into a mischief smile, the warm glow of the candles makes them shine with an otherworldly glow. She looks up at him and her eyes fall deep into those pools of lust. Her hands break apart from that folded prayer and onto his black dress pants. They card up further against his thighs where they settle and clutch the material.

"Father, bless me...", a whisper that makes the Father groan.

Temptation never looked so sweet. This woman made his chest pound. Unholy thoughts flood his mind and go straight to his-

You let out a loud groan. Your forehead drops and hits the table beside your keyboard. The forgotten mug with now cold tea rattles.

Writer’s block, the very bane of any author’s existence. It's been haunting you for weeks now, making it impossible to get anything done. You've been stuck on this part of your romance novel the entire time. A part you were so excited to get to!

The buildup was perfect! You had calculated, plotted, and carefully crafted a budding romance between a witch and a holy man. A forbidden romance that took place within the walls of the church, the furthest outside the walls it went were the gardens that surrounded the area. The two fell in love after he saved her from the townsfolk claiming sanctuary.

Inspiration struck you like lightning after you fell in love with your partners. After publishing a sci-fi series, that honestly changed the name of how science fiction would be written forever, you met two fans at a book signing event. You had made a surprise appearance at a local library in some little town called South Park. Coming from the big city yourself, it was a huge surprise that anyone in the little town would actually be a fan of yours.

Apparently, you had quite a few. A man with bright red hair who had a black-haired man following alongside him. Both gushed about how the story inspired some kind of board game they played with their friends. A sweet blond woman who had the cutest southern accent you've ever heard. She gave you a piece of fan mail that had the most adorable sticker on it. Another black-haired man who dressed as Spock for some reason. He went on for a solid thirty minutes about a fanfic he wrote regarding the main character of your book and Star Trek's very own Captain Kirk.

Finally came the oddest duo you had ever met. The two were like day and night, a cat and a dog, fire and ice; the whole nine yards. A bright smile with baby brown eyes on one, and an ice-cold deadpan look with amber eyes to match on the other. At first you thought the brown-haired one was your fan and the man with the blue hat was just along for the ride.

"Haha! No way! I'm not into that..." He paused as if to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't, "...kinda stuff."

"That kind of stuff?" You repeat back at him, raising a brow.

"He means reading. He doesn't know how." The other spoke putting a hand on top of his head. With a little push he forced the brown-haired man's head down.

You giggled at that. The protests coming from the poor man was comical. You almost felt sorry for him, watching him struggle to move the taller man's hand off.

"Then I take it I'm signing this book out to you?" With a click of your pen, you look up at him.

The NASA jacket on the bright blue sleeves of his jacket should have given it away honestly. There's was a small tinge of a blush on his tan cheeks, almost hidden under the skin tone but you were able to make it out under the light. He looked away for a moment before nodding at you.

"Yeah."

"Name?"

"His name is Craig! He's a huge fan of yours by the way! So, if you could write something sweet for him that'd be awesome!" His friend chirped at you as he broke free from Craig's grip.

Craig's face twisted, those piercing eyes of his narrowed down. Before he could reach and grab him, the brown-haired man slid behind your chair. Putting his hand on your chair, he bent down to your level and tapped the blank white page.

"As you can see my big guy has a baaaaaad case of resting bitch face."

"Clyde..." the warning that slipped out of Craig's mouth made a shiver roll down your spine. It was even directed at you, and you felt threatened.

"So, you gotta imagine my surprise when he came home smiling! I was shocked! He didn't even smile when we started going out!" Clyde ignored him, an attest to his bravery. Or foolishness. Either way he continued, leaning down next to your ear. "Your book made him so happy, so it makes me happy. Think you could do that for me? Because he'll never ask you to do it for him."

You look up at him for a while, not even bothered that he had gotten closer to your face as he spoke. The browns in his eyes flickered with mischief but there were layers of love behind them. Chocolate that seemed to melt into tiny hearts when he spoke about Craig. It was honestly sweet, even if he was trying to tease his partner.

"How can I say no to that? I'd love to." You smiled at him and began writing on the empty page.

Yeah, who would have thought that fate would tie you to those two like that. Falling in love with Craig and Clyde was nothing like what they wrote in books or movies. It was a tornado of events that landed you in the eye of it all.

Despite their polar opposite personalities and looks, the two worked off each other well. Then when you got thrown in the middle, you filled in a little spot they desperately needed.

Clyde was social enough for the three of you. He was the one who reminded you and Craig that you needed to get out of the house. When you lock yourself away in your office, he would drag you out with a fun date idea. Movie nights, football games, arcade dates, and his favorite late-night walks. Doing the same to Craig who always seemed buried in work.

Craig gave off such scary dog privilege that you and Clyde never felt threatened. You could take those late-night walks with Clyde because you knew nothing would touch you with Craig following close behind.

That was nice sure, but under that scary looking shell was a soft teddy bear of a man. While he wasn't vocal with affection like Clyde, he was observant. Craig remembered everything, everything about you and Clyde's interests. If he saw something you mentioned in passing it was yours. Clyde needed new shoelaces because the ones on his favorite pair of red shoes were tearing? There was a new pack waiting for him on the table. You complained about the shift key on your keyboard sticking too much? An adorable keyboard that looked like a typewriter was found on your desk the next morning.

Then there was you. You have no idea how these two survived this long without you. Truth be told they don't either. Craig and Clyde couldn't cook to save their lives. Their diet consisted of diner food and Chinese takeout. While their house was clean enough, laundry was never put away or folded. Clyde was horrible at putting his dirty laundry in the bin and Craig was too tired most nights to even make it to bed. The final straw was when you took a shower, and their only soap was 3 in 1.

Absolutely not.

So, when you moved in things changed. When Craig was at work, you would take Clyde grocery shopping. Slowly you started him on simple dishes, working with him until he was comfortable in the kitchen. What was surprising was that he took to it quickly. He was a natural and before you knew it, he was cooking things you had never heard of. He had gone as far as looking up Peruvian dishes, practicing with spices and techniques that had your mouth watering. When you asked how he learned to do all of this, he gave you the biggest grin and told you it was YouTube.

When Craig came home that night to Chupe de Camarones it was the closest to crying you've ever seen from him.

Clyde really stepped up after that, feeling a sense of pride in taking care of you two. Seeing as you worked just as hard as Craig did. Clyde proclaimed something about being more than happy to be a malewife.

In return Craig started taking better care of himself, actually starting to care about his health. He stopped staying up so late and made use of the giant bed. Clean sheets and blankets that felt good on his skin. Even better that you and Clyde would be in it waiting for him. Clyde long passed out on your chest, a bit of drool sliding down the side of his face and onto your shirt. Not that you seemed to care as you just continued to read next to the little bedside lamp. Only pausing when you felt Craig's presence in the doorway.

Craig's smiles were rare, little treats from the universe to you. Ones like these where he smiles with love in his eyes. Where he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers, crawling into bed next to you. Arms wrapping around Clyde and with a hand settling on your hips. A silent squeeze lets you know it's time to put the book down and join him.

How can you say no to a smile like that?

Of course, not every day was perfect. Your relationship took time to hash out. It was different being with two individuals at the same time, but you made it work. The three of you were committed to one another.

Now if only you could commit to this fucking scene.

Your head’s little meet and greet with the table must have been louder than you thought because whatever Clyde was yelling about in the living room stopped. It was one of the rare weekends where Craig was home and off work. Choosing to spend it watching some show with Clyde, listening to the man ramble on about something.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you let out a scream when you finally lift your head and Clyde is right there beside you. His body bent over just like the day you met him. With his hand on the back of your chair and his face next to yours. Except instead of using, you as a shield from Craig, he's reading your computer screen.

While he doesn't understand what it takes to be an author, he sees the effect it has on you. Days like this where you take on the posture of a shrimp, forgetting to come out to eat.

His lips start pursed, but as he continues to scan over the screen they break out into a smirk. He covers his mouth in a fake surprise, a gasp with widened eyes.

"Babe! This is...scandalous! Spicy, naughty even! What are you doing writing something like this?" His dramatic act continues, forming some feign surprise.

"What are you doing using words with more than one syllable?" You shoot back with a little smirk.

It takes everything in your power not to laugh at the actual pout on his face. Try as you might, the giggles escape your lips, and it makes him smirk. He leans down and nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Maybe you're starting to rub off on me babe! I'm getting smarterer with you around!" You know he said that word wrong on purpose, just to get under your skin.

But he kisses you quiet before you can say anything. Holds your face in his hands so you can't pull away. You can taste the cherry chapstick on his lips, and the growing smile along with it.

"So, what's got you bashing your head into your desk baby? Craig and I heard a thump and got worried." He moves the kisses towards your forehead.

"Was it that loud?"

"Heard it over the tv." Craig's voice almost makes you leap out of your skin.

You bite your lip, looking down at the keyboard with a distant stare. The faded green and blue, spots where your fingers had smudged away the paint from typing so much.

"I'm just having trouble with this scene. I've been stuck on it for weeks now." You exhale softly.

Craig raises a brow and leans down on the other side of you. Both Clyde and Craig bent over to take a look at your screen. You're not sure why the fact both men reading your unfinished work makes you feel nervous, but it does. Or maybe it's the fact this is your first time writing a spicy scene like this.

"It's good. Never would have thought you'd go the Priest kink route." Craig says it so matter of fact, there's never hesitation in his voice. You can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him flustered, and even then, his tone is flat.

"I-I’m not into it! I just- you guys are only reading a snippet of my book! There's been a romance blossoming between the two the whole time!" You try to defend yourself, but it only makes Clyde's lips tug into a smirk.

The temptation to tease you was too great, it was being handed to him on a silver platter. Clyde leans up and walks next to Craig, leaning into his chest. The man wraps his arms around himself and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"A forbidden love! A tale as old as time! But what I wanna know babe-" Clyde stops and lets the tension build. It makes you glare at him as you turn in your office chair. "-is why the witch's descriptions are reaaaally close to mine."

"That's a woman Clyde! She's got short brown hair because it was cut off when she was running from the townsfolk! Brown eyes are common and beautiful! There's not enough representation for them!"

"Aaaaaand her dimples?" He points to his, the little spots in his cheeks that sink in when he smiles. "Plus, my eyes are totally beautiful."

"It's not you!"

"Oh, and the Father isn't Craig. Tan skin, black hair? You gave the Father green eyes but other than that, it fits Craig to a T." Craig actually nods along with what Clyde is saying. He's got his eyes closed as if this is some kind of philosophical debate.

"Are you serious right now Clyde?! This is why you two aren't allowed in my study!" Your face was burning now, hot and flushed from his teasing.

"What did I do?" Craig breaks the little fight with a simple question.

"Nodding your head along! You know what he's doing and you're encouraging it!"

"So, you took inspiration from your partners in your romance story. It's cute." He responds with a shrug. He looks down at Clyde who's still smugly leaning against his chest.

Your mouth falls open, you go to respond but nothing makes its way out. Your brows furrow. Arms crossed under your chest in a pout.

Had you unintentionally based your characters off your partners? Is that why the romance novel was easy to write up until this point?

Whatever the case may be here, you didn't like being called out. So, you do what you always do when they get like this, you turn in your chair and ignore them.

Usually this works, let's them know that you're not in the mood for their games. That you'd rather be left alone than entertain another minute of their shenanigans. But this time Clyde wasn't going to let you go. He grabs the back of your seat and wheels you back towards him and Craig.

"Baaaaabe don't pout. Look I'm sorry~." No, he's not. "But hey I've got an idea."

You let out a little huff, enough to where he knows you're not actually mad at him. If you were you would have picked your chair up and walked it back to your desk. Instead, you sit there and wait for him to continue.

"You're stuck on that scene, but I think you need a break. Sitting here and bashing your head against the table isn't going to fix that. Soooo..." He trails off, moving to stand in front of you.

His fingers glide across the side of your face, cupping your cheek so gently. Clyde guides your face up to look at him, behind that cocky smile of his he's got such love for you in his eyes. The way his thumb brushes across your cheek, making your heart flutter so slightly.

"What do you say Craig and I help you out a little babe?" Clyde guides your face up towards him. He presses his thumb against your lips just as his voice dips into that playful whisper.

You raise a brow at him in response. It's not until Craig puts his hand on your shoulders, that you piece together this wasn't just his idea. Thumbs pressed into your muscles working out the knots and tension. For such a hard worker, somehow Craig's hands always stay so soft. The worn-out oversized t-shirt you stole does little against his hands. The material is thin from how often it's been washed and worn.

His hands pull a soft moan from you, it feels too good to keep yourself silent. Clyde pushes his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, the digit presses down on your soft pink tongue. He all but purrs when watches you wrap your lips around it.

"See...let's work out some of that tension. We'll make you feel real good and give you a little inspiration." Clyde hums as he pulls his thumb out, smearing the saliva across your lips.

When he doesn't continue, you realize he's waiting for your confirmation. Waiting for you to agree to their little plan. But that doesn't stop Craig from bending down and placing a kiss on your cheek. He trails the kisses down to your jawline, using his nose to nudge your head to the side. Lulling your head to the side, you gave into the feeling. Craig's lips move to capture the exposed skin. You can feel just how eager he is from the way the kisses turn to nips then to full on bites. His teeth sinking into the soft parts of your flesh pulling another sharp gasp from you.

"Come on honey. Let us take care of you." After he's done leaving small love bites on your neck, Craig moves to your ear nipping the shell.

"Y-yeah that sounds...that sounds good." You move your hands up towards Craig, running your fingers through his hair. One of the rare moments he's not sporting his blue hat. "I could use a little break..."

"That's our girl." Clyde's praise goes straight to your core. He lifts you up from your office chair, hands cupping the back of your thighs for support. They give your thighs a little squeeze, digging his fingertips into your flesh.

Craig moves out of his way and goes to push your office chair back towards your desk. Clyde chuckles softly seeing the confused look on your face. Instead of protesting you wrap your arms around the brunette lazily throwing your arms around his neck.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, we're gonna get nice and comfy on the couch." He drops you down on the couch, making you bounce a bit. He laughs when you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You ass." Your grumbles fall on deaf ears. Clyde just runs his fingers through your hair and gives it a harsh tug. It makes you cry out, craning your neck up towards him.

"Sweetheart, that's not very nice. You're being a brat right now." He tuts, feigning disappointment.

"You dropped me on the-" You suck in another cry when he tugs your head to the side, that firm grip on your roots sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hm? You were saying something? I did what?"

Clyde's smug little smirk made your blood boil. But his fingers in your hair felt too good to protest further. Especially when he switched between tugging and massaging his fingertips into your scalp. You watched his eyes flicker from yours to behind you. Before you could turn around to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, Craig's hands slid down your back.

Gently, much more than Clyde, he pushes you down towards Clyde. His other hand comes down to grab your ankle, pulling your leg back towards him. Once your knee is tucked against the couch, he does the same to the other leg.

If your face wasn't burning up before it certainly is now. Just as you go to hold yourself up with your hands, Clyde removes his hand from your hair and takes you by the wrist. Guiding you up towards him, he places them on the hems of his sweatpants. The grey university sweatpants do little to hide his hardening cock, you watch it twitch against the fabric.

"This is about where you left off right? She was about to take the Father's cock out of his pants?" Clyde says watching as you slowly pull his sweatpants down. He lets out a low chuckle that turns into a moan when you slip your fingers around his cock. "That's it, now keep your eyes on me baby."

There's a moment of hesitation as you bring the tip closer to your mouth. The bright red tip glides across your plump lips begging for you to open. His hand returns to your hair, smoothing down your locks from his earlier manhandling.

The gentle touch makes you look up towards him, just like he requested. There really was something so intimate about those chocolate brown eyes of his. Past that smirk and layers of darkened lust, there was devotion. The feeling of your hands on him alone made him weak in the knees. You put that to the test, pressing just a little kiss on the tip. Dabbing your tongue against his leaking member. Just from that alone he's letting out the prettiest moans.

"Sh-shit, c’mon don't tease me." That cocky attitude of his melts. You almost laugh at how easy it is to break him down. He was puddy in your hands.

With a little hum you move your hand up and down his shaft, creating enough friction to make him buck his hips towards you. He nudges his cock further into your mouth, pushing past your lips. The underside of his cock glides down against your tongue, smearing the pre-cum along with it.

So caught up in your little game, you almost forgot about Craig behind you. Almost. It's hard to forget him when he's got his hands all over you. Large palms cupping any exposed skin. Craig takes his time exploring every curve he can get ahold of. His nose nuzzled into the back of your head. His breath tickling the shell of your ear. Just the sight of your mouth around Clyde's member alone is enough to make him growl.

Neither men are patient when it comes to you. Craig shoves whatever is left of your pajamas down and off you, he doesn't bother with your shirt as it'll pull you away from your lover. Instead, he decides it'll make the perfect handle. He bunches it up until it collects at the collar. His hands grip the shirt and tug it backwards, making your hips rock back into him.

Somewhere along the way he stripped away his pants. The barrier between the both of you was the thin material of your underwear and his dark blue boxers. While Craig wasn't as vocal as Clyde was, with his teasing and little whimpers, he could be just as unfair if not more.

Grinding against your cunt slowly, grabbing and groping at your ass the entire time. He digs his nails into your skin, leaving little crescent moons. Craig rewards good behavior not with sweet words, but by giving you what you so desperately want.

He waits until you've got all of Clyde's cock in your mouth before he finally shoves your underwear down. It makes it to your knees before he just decides to leave them there. Too many times he got impatient and just ripped them off, and too many times you scolded him for it.

The hand in your hair pulls you back from his cock. Clyde moves your head back just enough to where only the tip remains, then slowly he brings you back down. Pushing you all the way down his length until your nose hits his stomach. You watch as his muscles flex under his skin like he's trying to resist letting his head lull back. He needs so badly to keep his eyes on yours, loving the attention you're giving him.

"Your mouth feels so good." He whines when he reaches the back of your throat. You gag around him, and it pulls another whimper from him.

Your hand slides down his thighs, using it to hold you up. The other hand is still being held by Clyde's grip. His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding it up near his shoulder. Craig waits until Clyde rocks you back again, using the momentum to slip inside your wet folds. A pleased hum rumbles from his chest. You can feel it from how he's pressing his entire body against yours.

Just as slowly as Clyde moves your head, Craig pushes further into your cunt. The two find a slow and steady rhythm with one another. When Craig snaps his hips against you, it pushes Clyde's cock further down your throat. Your moans vibrating around him causing him to moan loudly in return. Clyde's whimpers and whines get louder when you dig your nails into his thighs. In return the grip on your hair is tightened. Creating this delicious cycle of pleasure.

"Baby, please. I wanna fuck your throat. You gonna let me? I need it so bad, please." Clyde's begging spurs something in you. Gives you the feeling of control even if you’re physically stuck between the two. From the beads of sweat that trail down his body and the way his body is shaking, you know he's at his limit.

You're able to pull back just enough, his cock springs up with a little bounce. Craig slows down just enough to let you talk, but you can tell he's not happy about it. The way his grip on your shirt tightens, you're sure he'll rip it soon.

"If I snap my fingers, you stop, okay?" You say giving him the okay. He caresses your face and presses a kiss onto your face, letting you know he understands the boundaries you've set.

At first, he's careful when he pushes his cock back into your mouth. You reward him with a swirl of your tongue, rubbing against the veins that are popping out.

"He's so needy." Craig huffs as he leans back up. The assault on your neck stops, but he's left it covered in bright red and purple marks. No amount of makeup will cover up what he's done.

You don't need to see him to know that he's smirking at it. Taking pride in the fact that he's marked you up. Or the pride making Clyde blush from his comment.  Craig's hips snap back into you, the force much sharper than his previous lazy thrusts. They're calculated, each time he pushes deep inside you he hits that spot that has you seeing stars. Clyde's hips take up the same pace, shoving his cock into the back of your throat.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. Moans turn to muffled cries, yet everything feels too good to stop. They're rough paced fucking brings your mind to a haze. All you can focus on is feeling good and making them feel good.

Craig's close, you can tell from the way he starts to lose rhythm. He's having a harder time controlling those grunts and growls. A hard time not leaving bruises on your skin from how rough he's holding onto you. He's long since let your shirt go, instead grabbing onto the back of the couch. But he waits until he feels that familiar clench around his cock. The way your walls clamp down around him as you cum. The only warning being the high-pitched muffled moan that gets swallowed by Clyde.

His hips slam into you one more time before he pulls out. Grabbing the base of his cock, he shoots that hot thick load onto your back. Heavy amounts of cum drip down your spine making you whine and shiver. Clyde can't take his eyes off the way his partner paints your backside. It makes a trail of drool slip down his chin.

The poor man can't do it anymore, he can't stop his eyes from rolling up to the back of his head. Not when your moans vibrate up him and your throat tightens from choking on him. He needs this release.

"I'm gonna cum baby. Please, let me cum. Let me cum in your mouth." Clyde all but cries in between panting. His begging dissolves into your name and the word please over and over again.

His flickering eyes catch yours again. It's when you give him a little wink and a hum, his cock violently twitches and cum spills from his tip. His cum is sweeter than normal, it makes it easier to swallow.

Slowly he pulls out of your mouth with one final whimper. It isn't until Craig swipes his thumb over his cheek that you realize he had tears streaming down them. Clyde presses his cheek into Craig's hand and lets out a pleased sigh. Once he knows Clyde is okay, Craig stands up and goes to get a towel to help clean your back. He does the same to your face, swiping away the left-over tears.

"Feeling better?" Clyde asks as he helps pull your underwear up. "Nice and relaxed?"

You nod and rest your head against his chest. "You've got good ideas sometimes."

"I've got wrinkles on my brain." He smirks to himself, taking your little praise miles.

Craig comes back after tossing the towel in the dirty laundry with a large blanket. He throws it over both of you before climbing in next to you. He lays his head down on Clyde's and grabs the tv remote.

"Kitchen Nightmare or Hell’s Kitchen?"

"Kitchen Nightmares! I need some petty British accents after my orgasm denial!"

You scrunch up your nose at Clyde’s comment. Almost wanting to pull back. "Smooth brain behavior."

"Smooth brain behavior." Craig chimes in.

The three of you relax into the couch, almost ready for the group nap that comes with the afterglow of love making. That is until inspiration strikes you again. Your eyes light up and you go to wiggle out of their hold. But Craig's arms are faster, they keep you firm against his chest. Clyde's hands come down a moment later, cupping your hips.

"Nope. You're staying right here."

"Guys! No! I just figured out how I'm gonna get that chapter finished! You gotta let me go! I gotta do it!" Your pleads are wasted, like they're not even heard.

"No. You're warm and I'm tired."

"That's not my fault or my problem."

"I'm making it your problem. Sit still."

"You know Tucker bear isn't going to let go. You're fighting a losing battle babe." Craig at least has the decency to let Clyde finish before pinching him. You know Clyde's nickname for him makes him grumpy. His little yelp makes you giggle.

"Fine....at least until you fall asleep."

"Look if you think you can get out of his hold, then be my guest. You earned it at that point." Clyde's smirk returns. He throws his leg over yours and tucks it in between Craig's knees.

"Fuck you." Your eyes narrow up at him. He's not as slick as he thinks he is, trying to cage you in with a sleepy Craig.

"Again? So soon. You're insatiable babe. Let us recover first." Clyde presses a kiss into the top of your head, pulling back before you can headbutt him.

His hand guides your head back down onto his chest and he just chuckles. It doesn't take long before Craig is passed out with his head nuzzled into the curve of your waist. Holding you like a teddy bear against his chest. Clyde's smile grows when he sees you trying to fight off sleep. But it eventually takes you and you lose the battle. He turns the tv down just a bit, deciding to join the both of you.

That chapter can wait another day.

[ktsumu]

Hello Kit! I have been possessed by Takahiro Hanamaki brainrot for the past couple of days. He is my absolute favorite. Do you have any thoughts about him?

if it's involving the seijoh 4 i'm going to have thoughts about it.

most is under the cut because unlike suna’s, this is literally a mess of sfw and nsfw sorry friends

overall, trust fund baby!makki is my favourite. i feel like it's so funny and would explain how the motherfucker NEVER has a job. if anyone in that group is a dealer, it might just be him! (MR i hope you see this)

he’s such a dork too. you two play cards and losses are DEVASTATING. he loses go fish and slumps out of his chair and dramatically drops his cards on the table and

if matsukawa is the king of the deepstroke makki is the king of doggy overall. on the couch? doggy. on the bed? doggy. in the car? doggy. outside on the grass? doggy. in the doghouse? doggy

since he’s the group TFB, all of the seijoh 4 make puppy dog eyes at him when they go out to eat. they’ll have a six dollar sandwich and they’re like ughhhhh this is soooo expensiveeeee

he gives in every time

also makki is so good at aftercare too, sort of funny with it too. will make an ill timed joke when he’s cleaning you up with a towel and evilly laugh when he dodges the pillow you swing down at him

suck his dick and he’ll see god, he’s a blowjob man

favourite place to have sex is probably your bed BUT don’t disqualify him as a car sex guy because i firmly think he is. he takes pride in making you willing to fuck him in a car and the aspect of being in semi public

he has such good car sex playlists too like it’s his normal playlist but it works a little too well. everything is planned.

you pick your side of the bed. it doesn’t matter if he’s slept on that side for all four years he’s lived in his apartment, when you move in and choose that one it is YOURS

hogs the sheets though so now there’s an extra blanket at the bottom of the bed in case he does it again

also makki hasn’t read a book in 5 years so if you’re a bedtime reader, buy him one and he’ll actually read with you because he’s sweet like that

his favourite genre of movies is comedy but he fucks up a psych thriller (when you ask he says it’s whatever yours is but whatever)

he buys you flowers but they have absolutely RIDICULOUS cards in them. like “thanks for letting me cum inside” or “happy toaster-versary” (the year after you bought him a new toaster when you realized only one side of his was working)

he's very boyfriend but also really wants to be husband. ♡

[autisticlalna]

okay ive managed to get some sleep, let's try and explain this in a way that makes sense outside of my brain

so Viking and Ruby both have like. extensive multiverse going on. and all of how it functions is established in a different series, but is still relevant to Skyblock Kingdoms because of whatever the beans Cherruby is up to.

the most basic gist is: they have shared lore where Viking is the manifestation of space and Ruby is the manifestation of time, although i guess only when they're in the same world together? there's also an infinite number of Vikings and Rubys throughout the multiverse, and we have this info because of a version of Viking that has space powers and a version of Ruby that has time powers on Twitch SMP. this is also all connected to the clock and compass that Ruby has on Skyblock Kingdoms, so that's why this is getting upgraded to "oh god this is relevant and i need to explain it" rather than me going "HEY THIS IS WHY I CALL THEM SPACETIME SIBLINGS BTW :D"

for the more complicated explanation, I HAVE DRAWN SOME DIAGRAMS.

behold: a basic Rubyco and a basic VikingPilot. they're siblings! they're also universal constants, seeing as you can't have a functioning world without time and space and these two dinguses represent those foundational aspects. we have no idea how this happened, and 99% of them dont know either, or even know what their roles are. they're just hanging out.

also, like, if one or both of them permadies, stuff presumably explodes. so far this hasn't been like, relevant, but it's been brought up so i should probably include that tidbit somewhere.

along with Ruby and Viking, there's also the Clock and Compass-- the Clock belongs to Ruby, and the Compass belongs to Viking. if neither of them are in a universe together, then the Clock and Compass show up as separate entities. (also they're labeled Tempus and Locus in galactic when we saw them in Twitch SMP, but there was also a bit where the fandom was nicknaming a Ruby and a Viking Tempus and Locus so it gets a bit confusing.)

however, if one of them is missing-- like, say, there's only Ruby and there was never a Viking in that universe-- then the other sibling gets demoted from "load-bearing pillar of the universe" to "normal guy" and the job of stabilizing space and time is instead done by the Clock and Compass, just like if they were both gone. i think.

for any situation where it's only Viking or only Ruby you can disregard this chunk of their lore as "not relevant" - they're a pair, do not separate. this was also the part i was confused on before, and to be honest im still not sure if im getting it right because the phrasing was vaguer than i remembered. we'll see what happens when i start transcribing tsmp lore again.

ANYWAY. we know this because of these dorks:

...specifically the bottom two, but tRuby and tViking are also important here.

Sapphire and Navigator are... sort of a matching pair? Navigator's a mess, let's pretend he's paired with Sapphire. (Sapphire's actual counterpart Viking is missing in action.) they're also the only two we know of so far that a) know about their roles and b) have the powers to prove it.

Sapphire can reset the timeline at-will (mainly to bring tRuby back to life, but has also used this to drag Navigator back when he swapped out), and has knowledge of past and future. Navigator can swap himself and other people between universes, and has knowledge of things going on in other universes involving his counterparts. Sapphire can't leave the universe he's trapped in, and Navigator is bad at anything involving time.

however, neither of them are native to the Twitch SMP universe! we don't know where they're from, but Sapphire got put there as gay baby jail and Navigator pops in to check in on her. tRuby and tViking are also not native to that universe; they were originally from TwitchCon SMP, but Nav felt bad that they're from a short-lived world and transplanted them into TSMP. they're also the only other matching set we know of besides Nav and Sapph, which might be why tRuby is able to remember past timelines and why tViking is aware of things other Vikings have done. also removing them from their home universe was probably a bad idea for that universe's continued survival but it was literally about to end anyways, so,

Nav and Sapph also can't manifest a body outside of their home universe (???), so for gay baby jail to work there needed to be a Ruby for him to possess and, uh, there kinda wasn't one in TSMP. before Nav's intervention, there was the Clock and Compass keeping things stable. (probably a good thing, because tRuby dies a lot and tViking exploded. he got better.)

but out of the Vikings and Rubys we've seen so far, Nav and Sapph are kinda the outliers in category of "actually knowing about and being able to do stuff with their powers". god wait shit fuck this raises even more questions about Navigator but im not going to get into that right now. ANYWAY

so now we've got a mismatched pair! Cherruby isn't from SBK, but we don't know how it got here or what the world it left behind was like. there's a possibility that Cherruby has a corresponding Viking back home (bc she did mention missing family), but there's also moments pointing towards her being solo. also somehow they found the Clock and Compass and has been holding onto them, and they're under observation for reasons probably related to that.

Summertime, meanwhile, presumably has No Fucking Idea. without there being a Ruby native to SBK*, he's been demoted to Normal Guy status and therefore doesn't have to deal with any of this. maybe. it's, uh, getting kinda fuzzier now that the whole "had a flashback to Dominion" thing happened. god i have no idea what's going on with him

(* Cloneby got brought up, but i don't think ze qualifies considering ze was created partway through. and also i don't know if Avid can, like, do that. especially with Cloneby being an imperfect replica, and cc!Ruby drawing attention to the fact that Cloneby doesn't have the clock despite it being part of Cherruby's design.)

you can now see why i decided to include drawings bc otherwise this is an absolute brick of text. TWITCH SMP IS A SERIES WHERE SO MUCH HAPPENS IN IT.

[humbledragon669]

S1E2 – The Book Write Up P2 – 11 years ago and The Present Day/Thursday (2 days to the end of the World) (up to Aziraphale and Crowleys’ arrival in Tadfield)

Alright, let’s get dug straight in, shall we? There’s a lot of background narrative being covered in this section, including the introduction of quite a few new characters.

Let’s start with Anathema. I don’t have a lot to say about her intro scene, but I do have two questions:

Why THE HELL is her mother allowing her to draw in that book? It’s the only copy of a 350-year-old book that contains prophecies that have all proven to be correct. In reality that book would genuinely be priceless, and we will see later in the series that the book is still considered valuable to the family. I don’t like writing notes in my cheap paperback books, so the idea of a child drawing IN COLOURED PENCIL in this book chills me to the bone, yet her mother just lets her do it without so much as a blink of an eye. Mad woman.

We know that the book contains prophecies up until the end of the world. We also know that at least one of the prophecies contains an actual year (1980 – the one with the Apple). Furthermore, we know that Anathema is named specifically in one of the prophecies. Just how many Anathemas did this family have in the hopes that one of them would be the one to save the world? Logically, only children born after 1980 would be eligible but that still leaves at least one generation of descendants prior to the one we see in the show. I suppose there could be another prophecy that states what year “the” Anathema was to be born but I like to believe that somewhere there’s a little group of related women called Anathema all fighting over who gets to save the world.

Next up – Newton. Again, not an awful lot to say here, other than the camera crashing into his bedroom window makes me laugh every time I watch it. I don’t know why this specific moment was chosen to break the fourth wall just as much as I don’t know why I find it so funny.

Having worked in IT for more than ten years, I can say without a doubt that there really are people like poor Newt who are cursed with breaking anything computer-related just by looking at it. They’re exasperating because they usually think the whole thing is one big joke and hold their technology incompatibility up to be some sort of prize. At least Newt has the decency to look abashed by his strange “gift”.

Newton’s home location is confirmed to be Dorking in his first present day scene when we see his mother shipping him off to a new job. We don’t know the location of the United Worldwide Holdings (Holdings) office in which he attempts to establish a hold as a wages clerk, but I can say for certainty that the location of his introduction to Shadwell is central London. For those whose UK geography is worse than my own, it would take over an hour to get to central London from Dorking, regardless of the transport mode of choice. This has always struck me as rather odd – it’s clear that Newt has difficulty holding down a job. The home that he apparently shares with his mother looks pretty run down from the outside, suggesting that money isn’t exactly a commodity in their household. So why would you take a clerical job, that likely doesn’t pay much, in a place that’s over an hour away? Perhaps Neil and Terry just chose Dorking as Newt’s hometown because it has a slightly funny sounding name…

Side note: the chances that the Hot Dog van that Newt and Shadwell get their drinks from would be allowed to park there, right behind the Houses of Parliament and directly in front of Westminster Abbey, are null. I would even go so far as to suggest that Shadwell himself would likely be moved on pretty sharpish from his chosen pulpit. Makes a pretty impressive backdrop though, hey?

Let’s just take a moment to have a chortle at Shadwell’s ideas of what sort of activity would give the game away for any self-respecting witch:

Speaking as the last in the line of Welsh “wise women”, I can (pretty much categorically state) that none of my ancestors have done any of those things. Maybe apart from calling the cats funny names, though most of my maternal line had/have a strong dislike for animals of the feline variety. My cat is called Kishi, which is supposed to be Japanese for “love bound to Earth”. It’s a wholly inappropriate name for her, as she’s really just a massive prick, like every other cat there is.

Why does Newt stop to listen to Shadwell here? Why not just ignore the crazy man on the pedestal like every other person in London? Obviously that would cause a bit of a plot problem. Perhaps it’s his ancestral right driving him into the arms of the Witchfinder Army – there are certainly crazier things that happen in the GO universe! As it turns out, Newt’s recruitment is well-timed, what with there not being any soldiers of rank higher than sergeant, and only one of those at that.

Easter egg time!

This ridiculously quick shot of Shadwell’s newspaper gives us a veritable treasure trove of Easter eggs/nuggets of information for the keen eye:

Shadwell’s address is confirmed as located in Crouch End.

The reference numbers for the adverts begin with the letters “GO”.

There is an advert for a lost book, which we can just make out is one of Terry’s – “Colour of Magic”.

Save the best for last! The advert for a lost hat clearly describes Terry himself, and his signature hat and scarf. Not only that, but he apparently lost it in a book shop in Soho. I wonder which one that could be…

This fleeting glimpse of newspaper is a perfect representation for one of the main reasons I love this show so much. Most casual audience members will never see it. Some more interested parties will see it and think little of it. Others, like myself and likely anybody reading this waffle, will not only see it, but understand the references and then squeal with delight at the little present that was left for us to find. It makes me feel valued as a fan whilst at the same time as if I’m sharing in a secret that the creative team has left for me. This is great television making at its very best.

Quick Easter egg here in Jasmine Cottage: the image that Anathema has pinned on the wall to represent the Antichrist is the same as the one used on the playing cards from episode 1 (albeit in black and white):

When we find ourselves back with Crowley in his apartment, he’s clearly furious with himself about losing the Antichrist. We also learn that he discovered the joys of tending to houseplants in the early 1970s. I’d like to think he inserted them into his life after the event that takes place in 1967 between himself and Aziraphale (which we will see in the next episode) – perhaps he was looking for something that he could try to use as some sort of poor substitute for his true desires? The presence of the houseplants and the timeline for his discovering of them is included in the book, so in honesty I doubt this was the intention for their purpose, but I like the possibility nonetheless. The scene with the houseplants provides a little nugget of information that we can store for reference for later – Crowley’s houseplants actually shake when they’re frightened.

Once again, I don’t have much to say about the next scene: that of Newt’s arrival to the Witchfinder Army’s HQ. I will pause briefly to note the wording of the notice on Shadwell’s door:

This calls to mind the phrase used by Aziraphale to refer to Crowly in episode 1. I’m not sure there’s anything in this as “foul fiend” has often been used to refer to demonic or evil beings. That said, it’s difficult not to try and make some connection, given that the two uses of the phrase are so close together in the show. We will later find out that Shadwell is working for both Aziraphale and Crowley for the same purpose, so defying the “foul fiend” in this case becomes somewhat impossible.

Quick pause for a moment of appreciation for that strut that David pulls off in this next scene. Honestly, there are professional supermodels that couldn’t manage that sort of casual arrogance, even if somebody told them they could stay thin and eat whatever they wanted for the rest of their lives.

This is the first time we find out that Crowly has adopted a first name for himself. I’ll talk about it a little more in the write up(s) for episode 3, so for now this is another piece of information for us to store for later.

I quite enjoy just how awkward Aziraphale sounds leaving a message on the answerphone. Dealing with the unannounced arrival of two angels in his book shop he can handle, but having to leave a message instead of speaking to Crowley direct? Perish the thought. This seems to me a quite human attitude to have – when answerphones started to become commonplace, people (on the whole) hated leaving messages once they realised the person they wanted to speak to wasn’t going to pick up. What I find interesting about the conversation that they do have is that Aziraphale’s suggestion is actually incredibly obvious. In fact, it’s about the only possible scenario that would make any sense. Crowley’s disbelieving expression would suggest he doesn’t feel the same way:

Still, at least this conversation tells the audience that this pair haven’t given up on working together to try and stop Armageddon just yet (it would be a pretty short and disappointing show if they had, wouldn’t it?!).

At this point in the episode, we are introduced to Crowley’s driving style which could be described as suicidal dangerous. He seems pretty confident with it though, so it’s unlikely this is out of the ordinary for him, urgency of their mission notwithstanding. Aziraphale doesn’t actually seem that bothered by it initially, not until we hear the horns of other angry drivers, where it becomes apparent that he’s actually very uncomfortable indeed. We’ll see a fair amount of material on the theme of Crowley’s driving and its effects on Aziraphale in this episode, almost like we’re being set up for something…

Crowley is pretty insistent on the use of “we” in this scene, despite the fact that Aziraphale really didn’t have anything to do with losing the Antichrist (he just took Crowley’s lead on this one). The angel doesn’t really dispute it though, though perhaps he’s just too worried about being discorporated to argue.  What is pretty obvious is that Crowley does not appreciate being told how to drive, and it makes me wonder how many times they have had conversations exactly like this before.

I’m going to wrap this part up with a quick round-up of the “The Them” scenes in Tadfield, prior to the arrival Aziraphale and Crowley in the village. As with much of the other narrative-based scenes in this episode, I don’t have much to say about them, but I did make note of a couple of (potentially) interesting things:

Pepper’s middle name is Galadriel. For those people who have managed to live their lives without any sort of interaction with Lord of the Rings up to now, this is the name of an Elven queen in that universe. As much as it would be cool for there to be some sort of subtextual Clue hidden in her middle name, I think it’s more likely it was just picked because it was a fitting one for the daughter of a reformed hippy.

Anathema recites parts of an infamous speech from Shakespeare’s Macbeth here: Eye of newt and […] tongue of dog. What I find interesting about this is that there are two ingredients in the potion recipe that have been omitted (a frog’s toe and the wool of a bat), leaving only the two elements that can be found in the show – a Newt and a dog. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of this, not least because I’m not even sure what relevance the rhyme has to what she’s doing at the time she recites it. Not to mention that she hasn’t actually met Newt at this point, so would have no knowledge of his name (to the best of our knowledge, he’s only referred to as “man” or “boy” in Agnes’s prophecies).

Wensleydale brings up the Spanish Inquisition when in the woods, which we know Crowley has claimed responsibility for (to his Hellish masters). I absolutely love the way that the religious reasoning for punishing people is so masterfully undermined by Brian’s earnest reasoning here. I should point out that in addition to being a hereditary Pagan, I am staunchly against organised religion (not faith; I consider that to be an entirely different concept and feel that it’s integral to the spiritual identity for pretty much everybody. I believe we should all have the right to follow our chosen faith without the overbearing interference of organised religion) so the satiric tones that people who were being executed would have been grateful for their persecution if they had understood the reasons behind it fully really strikes a chord with the religion-cynic in me.

There’s an interesting little set detail here in the Them’s den:

These look like old-school weighing scales to me. In the context of the conversation that the Them are having about torturing witches, these could be said to be a reference to the practice of weighing people accused of witchcraft against the weight of a bible to determine their guilt. Alternatively, it could be a reference to the scales we will see later in the series as the summoning object for Famine. Or it could be nothing. I doubt that last one though.

That brings us quite nicely to see Aziraphale and Crowley arriving in Tadfield, which feels to me like a good place to finish this part of the write up. I’m going to be tackling a couple of important moments in the next part (can we say “wall slam”?), which I’m aware have been discussed at length already, but I have things to say and I’m going to say them. They’ve probably all been said before, but they need to get out of my head and into a piece of writing so I’m going to say them anyway. Questions, comments and discussion on this part welcome as always!

[verdemoun]

for once I’m not asking for angst 🤞 what kind of music would the modern au characters like? Like genres and bands :)

completely biased because i listen exclusively to musicals and late 00s teenage angst black parade is forever BUT

arthur: country music. including white girl country-pop music. can be caught doing little shuffle steps as he discreetly tries to dance along to a song stuck in his head while mumbling the lyrics under his breath. has main character moments smoking outside at night listening to need you now by lady a.

lenny: really into remixes. likes the extra pep it puts in his step, will accidentally walk to the beat and look like a dork. surprising amount of rock. but anything that's super lyrical, songs that tell a story, he will add to his playlist. duets what you own from rent with sean on karaoke nights.

sean: could not name a single band or genre he listens to because it's just anything with a high enough bpm to make his brain buzz. honorable mention to the cranberries and flogging molly but will do a fully choreographed routine to jailhouse rock without a single drink in his system.

hosea+bessie: any old timey easy listening ballads, occasional swing. hosea can't sing to save his life bless him but will still sing the really cheesy romantic lines to bessie as they slow dance in the living room after a few glasses of wine they're so in love please. anything that would be a first dance song at a wedding they have in their playlist

dutch: opera and orchestra forever. exact same music he listened to at camp will go on about kids these days and the hippity hop they dare call music. it takes him exactly 3 seconds after being introduced to cds and digital downloads to become a vinyl purist even complains about record players over gramophone.

annabelle+susan: annabelle is probably the most adapted to modern era she will listen to anything radio popular and susan is the same way inclined thanks to her job at at the local pub. but they both particularly enjoy bonnie tyler, kate bush and a sneaky bit of abba. think mamma mia is a cinematic masterpiece.

molly: mitski. boygenius. phoebe bridgers. aurora. any indie female lead who sings about broken hearts/betrayal/angry break up songs. listens to a suspicious amount of queer artists too.

kieran: the definition of 'i'll just be here listening to my tunes' only for the speakers to immediately cut to screamo. occasionally they can hear the bass through his headphones and gently remind him to turn it down to protect his hearing. despite this he will always get the mlp theme song stuck in arthur's head at the worst times.

javier: disgusted that disco was dead by the time he timewarped. just wants to boogie to that 70s funky beats. definitely has a playlist dedicated to john marston that is just any song with a reference to wolves. thinks he's hilarious. is the reason john can identity hungry like the wolf within two seconds of it starting (he walks out) (javier learned it on guitar. and both in english and spanish)

jack+isaac: mcr, panic, fallout boy. they will forever be on that angsty teenage bullshit. isaac may have designed them fabulous killjoy ocs and jack proceeded to write a 100k word self-insert fanfic about them. and they have matching mcr lyric tattoos. and mutually agree the kids from yesterday was actually written about them. play that g note and they both collapse with sorrow.

[gotafewtricks]

dear my new fav kiri writer,

if you saw the le sserafim collab (kiri's hot, fite me), you know that romance dynamic where it's like idol x fan but the idol is the fan's bff and the fan (who has big crush on idol to the point they buy ONLY merch of them) has no clue said idol is their friend (and the idol's real struggle of "do i tell them i'm idol or i just watch them be an absolute dork at simping me") lmao

if you can pull it out of a hat, i'll love that lol

★ I'm (maybe) fearless

Really? I'm pretty honoured. I wrote like, two sentences with her and you already like my interpretation of Kiriko? Honoured <33 Anyways, YES, mhm—I have seen that! I've been meaning to play around with this dynamic, anyways :3

I could see Kiriko as a popular singer and dancer; though, I could also see her as a YouTube personality as well. I'll settle with a singing Kiri for now :3

As a vocalist, Kiriko had to work her way up to the top. It was rather difficult having to hide all of that at first; knowing damn well how it would affect her life outside of the showbiz. Scheduling was something she'd worry herself to death over; knowing that her easygoing personality wouldn't fair well with having to keep up with dates, knowing the promises she's made to her friends back home, and her fans.

Being a close friend of Kiriko was such a rewarding experience—you knew how determined she was at her job, with clearing out the yakuza scum of Kanezaka. You'd worry about her often, with how it may even take her a few days, to weeks, or even a month to get back in touch with you. You understood that those were times where she was busy with the Hashimoto; as it wasn't just tiring, exhuasting local work. She has explained to you about their, the Hashimoto's, extensive relations with other criminal organizations around Japan.

Though, what you didn't understand, was that Kiriko wasn't just occupied with beating up some petty criminals in her absence.

As much as she hates to lie, she knows that she cannot be visible as a pop star. Not only she would become a much bigger target, she already keeps her work more on the downlow with the Hashimoto—and, even then, she is recognized as one of the heroines of Kanezaka. Alongside with the reputation of her mom being a formidable foe with the blade, and her dad being a known weapons-maker... it makes the girl's head hurt having to process what'll happen.

You were a huge fan of Kiriko's idol persona—really, really huge. Photocards upon photocards would be decorated with cute stickers, slid inside holographic heart sleeves to add to your ever-more growing collection. It'd embarrass you if you actually tallied the amount of money you've spent.

You were there at the beginning of her career, finding her randomly by chance whilst refreshing your recommended feed. Taking a listen to a few songs she was cast in, and you were automatically hooked. Either it was just her energy, voice, looks... everything about her was just something, someone rather, that you could find some ultimate comfort it.

Although, you were not on the verge of it being a disturbing obsession—as you were rather worried about your favourite idol. You'd understand if she had to post something about taking a brief hiatus, as you'd imagine yourself being so, so exhausted being in such a position. There was just something so relatable with her that makes you connect all the better to her—she just really felt real.

Often times, many people would put up a fake smile; a façade, in front of fans that only like them because of a shared attribute. Either just appearance or that "Ah, yeah, you sound good!" aesthetic, you were glad that you saw the girl on stage and acting like herself. There was such an energy would would always be commented on in interviews that the idol would have, and you always wondered how she was always so energetic.

Maybe she was an incredible actor, you'd muse.

The thing you hated most, though, was not being able to watch any of the videos as soon as they'd drop. You knew to not disturb Kiriko by messaging her during important missions, but you can't help but send her some screencaps of some really adorable pictures of your favourite idol, now, can you? Kiriko would laugh whenever you'd complain about how she always has to go out whenever there were tours going on.

Kiriko, at first, would be extremely flattered. She does have a crush on you, and has had one for a while, but she didn't want to ever complicate things.

Seeing you gush about her idol career, and how you related so much to this celebrity—and how you loved literally everything about her, Kiriko couldn't help but feel just oh-so flustered over... "Heh, wow... my crush likes me?"

There was something that Kiriko did take notice of, and it was with how you phrased everything that she did appreciate. Not just the compliments, and even if you did just praise and praise her vocal talent, perfomances, and looks—there was something that Kiriko did enjoy listening about, and it was how you really felt, in comparison. Because, all-in-all, Kiriko loves her fans. Every single one of them.

If she could sign autographs all day, if she could talk to everyone at a meet-and-greet, if she could spend hours and hours rambling at panels and conventions—oh, she would. She adores how she was able to build up such a community, and how it thrives off of interaction. Not just from her, but how everyone else is just so supportive. It really makes her feel like she is doing so much more for not only just the town of Kanezaka, and not just for Japan—but for the countless, countless others out there in the world.

There was something special, though, with being best friends with a fan.

You'd talk to her about a new single release, talking about what your interpretation of the song was. You could easily tell that it was experimental, as the lyrics were not written by her herself—rather, someone else. Her phrasing would have more wordplay—her cadence would've been more casual and loose, to reflect on her more teasing, playful nature she likes to exhibit on-stage. You'd explain, with stars in your eyes, about all of those little details you've noticed.

Kiriko would nod along, affirmingly so. It's not like she's had to be in the studio, recording for hours and hours at a time to get the perfect take—having the mixers work at the vocals and instrumentals.

It took Kiriko a long while to think about this, but she finally did come up with a way to express her view, and to finally fess up to you.

Kiriko wasn't one to lie, as it made her feel dirty. Obviously, she does have a trouble-making stream to her name—running around the streets of her hometown whilst trying to get to the bakery first-thing was something she'd always get motherly chided for. As with her career, she felt like she really had to tell someone. It wasn't illegal for her to be an influencer, but it felt like she was lying to her best friend—lying to you.

She didn't know how you'd react. There was a surprising amount of comfort she did feel whenever you'd talk about her idol persona, considering you didn't blindly just love the music and her looks—rather, her personality, and how real and tangible she felt. How she was able to make such a committed, compelling fanbase that you were proud to be apart of, and to contribute to it. With everyone else having nothing but praise for the young rising star, Kiriko would be a bit scared at the fact of someone only liking her just due to a shallow reputation.

Though, over the course of this life, she felt both fulfilled in not only receiving the love of many others; but giving it all back in her work. Either with her songs, or some pest (Hashimoto) control, she's in debt to all of her fans. She really couldn't thank them enough.

As her heart drew heavy, the worries increasing everyday, she just might as well spit it out. With your concluded reasoning, Kiriko thought that you'd understand why she had to keep it a secret—obviously—and not go around telling anyone else. She knows about the industry, and how celebs with lovers are treated, so she just needs to be careful—teetering across those rules.

Whilst the two of you were together out at night, hanging out behind the arcade—per usual—you offered Kiriko one of your earbuds. It was playing one of her songs, and you were bopping your head to the rhythm; whispering the lyrics to yourself.

"Do you want to know something?" Kiriko would then ask, and she immediately felt her heart thump. Just being close to you already makes her feel so, so anxious; it felt as if she wasn't a pop star, and wasn't an expertly-trained ninja—just a little schoolgirl again.

With a hum, you'd turn your attention to her, adjusting your position on the ground to be more comfortable. With your legs in the right spot, you then settled down. "Yes? I'm sorry, this song is so good."

With a laugh, Kiriko would reassure you that it's okay. God, how she loved just seeing you so happy, and with how she was able to leave such a positive imprint on you with her hard work—it felt as if you were her world. Her everything.

"Eh, don't worry." Kiriko's little chuckle was contagious, as you smiled as she gestured her hand towards you. "There's something really funny about this track, actually. I'd be surprised if you didn't already know it; you nerd."

You two then continued on with your banter, and then you listened to what Kiriko had to say about the song. After a moment, the chorus came on, and then Kiriko started to explain her thoughts out—her voice in that tender tone, reserved for the ones closest to her.

"The lyrics were actually written for someone in particular. There's a theory floating around that it's for this idol, or for this other person but..." She'd then laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Pay more attention to the words. You're smart; you can figure it out."

The chorus was then explaining about the singer's love for their best friend, and with how everything matched up so perfectly—the vocalist musing about past childhood memories, talking about certain interests, and explaining their want to fully express yourself... you blushed. You looked up at Kiriko, she was wearing a smirk, and then down at your phone at the song currently being played. You didn't want to just assume it was you, as you didn't want to embarrass yourself, but-

"I dunno if you know their name or not, but they do look awfully a lot like you. Maybe I should make the two of you meet, huh?"

[totallynotsarkaz]

rszm food in Rosa's oprec issh sooooooo gooooooood

BARKBARKBARKBARKBARK-

[spoiler for Rosa's oprec bellow]

[warning, I am a rszm dork so you'll see a lot of me gushing over them]

We started of with RosaGummy cooking session and girl is not happy at all (A little bit insulted lmao) that Gummy said she has surpassed Zima when it comes to cooking. I guess my headcanon about Rosa is terrible at cooking was half right.

Then they deliver said Rosa's cooked meals to medical bay(?. Her we have two people chatting with each others. One of them was Rosa's former maid. Her name is Sofia.

She was happy to meet her Mistress but then it goes south the further they talk.

So they went off to Rosa's dorm. And god fuck I don't wanna talk about it... then Zima barged in like usual she is, and you know what. THIS. MAID. BEEFED WITH HER LMAO. I know it's funny in one way but god Zima was PISSED. So they argue for a while until Rosa stopped Zima before she throws hand.

Zima left and Rosa had long, loooong talk with her former maid, saying that she had job to do in nearby village. As volunteer teacher. Her maid follows her there and God FUCK I WANT TO THROW HANDS AT HER. Rosa was being really nice to the kids there, heck one of them shyly gives her herbs as a thank you, Rosa was about to take it and the maid took it and said it is too dirty for her. Ooooh and Rosa did not like that one a bit and softly told her to piss off.

GO GET HER ASS ROSA. Anyway, Rosa apologize to the children about her and her former maid behavior and continue to teach them in peace. For a bit. We move outside to see the former maid talking to Village head who approached and ask who she is. She answer that she's Rosa's maid and it raises question to Village Head, he then begin to question if Rosa is truly noble and you know what, this maid pisses;

Rosa overheard it and told her enough is enough. She have been very patient with her, asked the Village Head if she could receive the payment, got payment, and then put it inside her purse and gives it to her maid (a bit hesitate at first). She then said :

(we also then know the reason as to why the maid stick with her but I couldn't care less because she wants to return back to her former glorious life in House of Rostovs)

Where was I, ah yes, after exchanging words, the maid decide to go off on a journey to find the Rostovs and deliver the news of "their daughter is still alive yadayada". Rosa, feeling a bit tired got jumpscared by Istina (while dragging Zima with her) sudden appearance. Zima told Rosa she informed the gang about what happen and Rosa thank her. Not long after that, Leto informed her that there's a big delivery for her. The piano she'd been waiting for. Girl ran off as fast as lightning after hearing that (cute). We have brief Istina teasing Zima about Rosa's behavior just now.

Keep denying it Zima, we know you care for that giant fluffy bear lady. Long short story, Zima helped her moving said piano (along with the rest of the bears ig) because she worried she'll drop them.

A moment, later they're in Rosa's room. With the piano. Rosa then raise the question.

Pfft, tsundere behavior. The girls then teases this poor leader of their's

That... is very Zima. More teasing later, Rosa offers to play the piano. It's been a while she play piano and both Gummy and Istina were excited to hear. It makes her nervous. As... the other two however XDDD

Rosa roast them As to what piece she actually play, it's Für Elise Laurenz.

That. Is the end of her oprec. Note : YOU SHOULD READ THIS OPREC AS FELLOW BEAR ENJOYER

[partysol-the-umbrella-wielder]

I thought I posted this already oops. Here is some bios of these two idiots that I love so much.

Hurbie (she/her): Before she made her little journey, she was a tailor apprentice working under Harhall.

She is decently peppy And tries to keep everyone in high spirits. But her anxiety and awkwardness is worn directly on her. She tries to appear tough and she technically is, But at this point she's so used to people bossing her around that she struggles to actually put her foot down.

She just moved to the bean bean kingdom for job reasons But also for an old dream. She had as a kid to go to space so she's trying to rent a rocket for that ( I like to imagine space travel is actually pretty easy here thanks to galaxy)

tho despite doing what she loves, she ended up becoming pretty miserable after a while of doing the same thing every day. As she was not very good at talking and ended up self isolating for a bit.

It's only after she takes a night walk to try and help herself, She finds the person that changes her entire life. Beez! She ends up rescuing this "poor defenseless" alien and a super willing to help when hearing their plight about trying to find other survivors. Letting them take her boom box and modify it, and coming along to help.

She ends up, however, learning more about what they are and, well, how deadly the Shroobs are in general. After this, she was tempted to try and stop this, but something kept pushing her forward. Almost like her brain is working against her. It's probably nothing, though :]

She also never fully goes villain despite everything. Even after some changes she goes through, she is still a dork that cares a lot about aliens and cool clothes

Beez (it/they/he) shroob mechanic that survived what they call "the acid rain."

They don't really talk about anything before that. It's hard enough trying to remember what was going on during the rain. Seeing they're fallen melt away.

What we do know is They ran far away from the mushroom kingdom, even somehow crossed the border into bean bean.

There they stayed for multiple years. Completely isolated and emotionless. It wasn't until a weird bean creature approached them that they started moving again, to attack her at first, But then stopping after feeling touch for the first time in years.

Shroobs can't cry,, So all they did was stop. The weird bean called Hurb Took them in giving them some leftover pizza and soda and even giving her room to them. They were definitely confused by this hospitality but ended up learning to enjoy this kindness.

After all, wasn't the whole mission to find a place to call home to finally relax. Yet they were left unsatisfied... The mission couldn't truly succeed when there's only one of them left. In the end, they repurposed Hurb's old boom box not only for communication but also to send a signal out, a shroob sos, to try and find any survivors. It took a while, but they did.

And that starts their journey to find every last shroob!

Beez ends up going from mimicking emotions to finding their own person within this mess. Which ends up making them one of the kinder shroobs... Emphasis on kinder. He can and will still try to kill people. But only if it's necessary. He ends up getting a hobby outside of his electronic work by learning how to make drinks. Vim never tasted better!

[demiboydemon]

Here’s a pic of what they hung with the nipple clamps in my fic ‘Treats, Tricks, and Training’ (link below cut)

Edit: okay so like it turns out I haven’t actually posted the chapter where this happens yet 🤦‍♂️ but it’s in ch2, to be released on March 3rd.

Treats, Tricks, & Training (5904 words) by demiboy_demon Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Characters: Link (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Purah is mentioned Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, light comedy, Humiliation, BDSM, Embarrassment, Dom/sub, Sub Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Dom Link (Legend of Zelda), Nipple and clit clamps, Safeword Use, Safe Sane and Consensual, Leashes, Collars, pissing outside, Cages, Master/Pet, Petplay, Pet Play, Dorks in Love, Blow Jobs, Grinding, Bathing/Washing Series: Part 3 of Zelda’s Adventures In Subbing Summary: While cleaning Purah’s snowglobe collection, Link learns of a set of ancient devices sure make Zelda happy. He arranges a night of petplay fun, including collars, cages, tricks, scratches, and leashed walks and bathroom breaks outside.