Sissel

22 | 🇵🇭 | Posts once in a while | artist | writer | been thinking of streaming 👀 | Minors DNI!

[shijjii]

Welcome!

Hello and welcome to my blog! My name is Sissel and I am 22 years old. I am a Filipino writer and artist trying their best to be active but there will be days that I will be off the grid (which I hate because Tumblr has become my safe space once again).

Pronouns are they/them and I am pansexual. I am a multifandom (usually however, I only fixate on one or two); so if you see a different reblogged post from me or a different content, that's the reason.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

I don't know how else I can emphasize this but I don't want any minors on my blog, I do not want any parents coming into my DMs saying that their child is being influenced by my unholy posts. I am also very much uncomfortable if there are any minors interacting with a blog that reblogs NSFW or makes them.

Currently hyperfixated on Jax from The Amazing Digital Circus!

Otherwise, everyone is welcome in my blog. This is a safe space.

Once again! Welcome and I hope that everyone enjoys the content thrown in this blog!

here is the Masterlist

[octoopie]

They are a parasite…

[p0kuyaki]

I NEED THIS MAN.

[shysheeperz]

[shijjii]

happy new yeone of

one of the goals i hope to achieve this year is being able to be consistent in writing, drawing, or playing instruments HSDHADH also, gonna be working on rebranding this again :')

[shijjii]

You spark brighter than fireworks | Togame Jo

Pairing: Togame Jo/Reader Genre/Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Confession, Jealousy, Oblivious reader Word count: 2249w Reader appearance/notes: uses -chan, mentions that they are small (hands)

For some reason, this year’s Summer Festival is far more crowded than the past years. The glow of the yellow lanterns that hung across the path allowed the people to see where they’re walking and not to step on other people’s feet. You couldn’t catch a moment’s rest as more people crowd your booth, buying the food that your family sells every Festival. 

Your eyes quickly sift through the crowd in front of you and observe them.

Bofurin students hanging out with Shishitoren members, a perplexed look on your face is left as you see them jovially joking around. 

You’ve always known the two groups are archenemies, so to see this scene right in front of you… Am I in heaven? you thought to yourself. 

After taking in the confusion and moving past it to take care of customers, your mind wanders to the rumors you heard going around town.

They said Bofurin defeated Shishitoren in their own turf, and instead of Bofurin’s leader taking in the members of the defeated gang, he instead announces for the two groups to be friends. 

You didn’t believe it, it was a wild child’s fantasy, or so you said to yourself. “You doing alright there, ⬜️-chan?” A voice calls out your name, looking to the other stall, you see the Second-in-Command of Shishitoren.

You’ve known him ever since you were kids, with him being part of the Festival Committee at such a young age and you helping out with your family’s booth, you both were bound to talk to each other. What you didn’t expect was to find out how sweet he is, caring, kind. You know him to be lax, an individual who likes to take his time but that only made him even more endearing, especially when he talks to children who have trouble speaking just yet. It surprised you when you heard how he is when it comes to the streets, a complete contrast to the Togame you’ve grown to like.

The Second-in-Command who ruled with an iron fist it’s impossible not to hear those words, and you believed them. You’ve seen it after all. How Togame beat up his own member after they tried to harass you and your friend.

Realizing that he’s been waiting for your reply, you curtly nod at him, mind slightly racing due to panic with how many customers have been asking for their orders despite only arriving. 

He clears his throat before eyeing the wave of customers in front of both their booths. His emerald eyes widened in surprise before it glinted behind the round orange tinted glasses as he spotted a familiar mop of white hair. A sharp and loud whistle slices through the air, capturing the Bofurin leader’s attention. 

“Togame-san!!” He gleams and pushes his way through the crowd, an entourage of first years behind him. “Umemiya-san” his deep voice calls out nonchalantly but an evident smile plastered on his face. 

“S’it okay if you and your little….” Togame’s eyes lands on the others “bodyguards help me and ⬜️-chan man the booths? We kind of have our hands tied here…” Sakura bursts out at the word bodyguard and challenges the vice commander for a fist fight which just elicits a deep laugh from him.

You on the other hand have not been paying attention to what was happening in the other booth, rushing some orders. Hands skillfully flipping the crepes, chest heaving heavily. You were sort of reaching your point and you knew that you needed to sit down for at least a minute. Everything has been overwhelming and the night has just begun. 

You almost flipped the crepe sheet to someone’s face when a hand lands on your shoulder “⬜️-san! You look pale, go sit down go sit down!!” Umemiya tells you off, you give him a baffled expression but couldn’t really fight the man off as he firmly pushes you to the nearest chair. 

That was the time you were able to breathe and take in the chill of the night. Eyes landing on Togame who is also now sitting down for a bit, hand scratching the back of his neck. This revelation made you realize that Shishitoren did indeed lose to Bofurin since they’re acting like friends now. You can’t help but smile a bit at that. 

Togame cut his hair after the fight and you thought that maybe he just got bored with his mullet, or got too hot around the neck but you can guess now that him cutting his hair had some correlation with him losing his fight with Bofurin. Your eyes scan his back, finally having the time to admire him and his new haircut.

It seemed as if he had eyes behind his head since he looked behind him and in your direction. Giving you a lopsided smile “taking a rest as well?” He calls out.

Even though your booths are side by side, it’s kind of hard to hear each other due to the amount of people talking, which deeply annoys you. You wanted nothing more but to just properly hear him but the universe seemed to be so against you tonight.

“Yeah. Thank you, Togame-san” you bow your head at him, wiping the sweat from your brow. Blood rushing to your cheeks, hand coming up to your own neck to scratch the back of it, hoping that he doesn’t notice you blushing. He just gives you a closed eye smile before both of you stand up in sync to help man the booth. 

As the night went on, the crowd from your booth never thinned out at least once. It actually felt like it was getting more crowded. Eyes landing on Umemiya’s smiling face before charmingly tells an old lady “Thank you for buying from us! See you again!” 

A deep sigh escapes you. Umemiya is the reason why the crowd hasn’t thinned out yet but lucky for you, your supplies are running out.

Tapping his shoulder, you whisper in his ear “Umemiya-san, we’re running out of supplies. We need to close the booth soon” he pouts a little, the wooden stick for spreading the crepe batter in one hand drooping ever so slightly.

“You can help tomorrow if you want” you mumble, rolling your eyes at him. That’s when he perks right back up, nodding at you with much vigor. “I’d be very happy to help, ⬜️-chan!” 

Continuing to converse and call out the orders, you never noticed the emerald eyes that glared at Umemiya. (He, however, did, and shivered involuntarily) 

With the night ending and everyone heading to the riverbanks, both of you finally got the chance to clean up properly.

“Is it always this busy here?” He asks you, throwing boxes into the trash bag you’re holding while your other hand wipes the surface area that you worked on. “No, just this year.” Finally giving him your full attention after finishing everything you needed to do.

“I wonder why…” you hear him mumble. Due to frustration and exhaustion, you throw the little wooden piece for spreading the crepe batter at him, hitting him smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

“It’s because of you, idiot!”

“What! What did I do?!”

“You-” Cutting yourself off before another groan escapes your lips, louder this time, grabbing the attention of the people from the other booth. A low laugh rumbles from right behind you, turning your body to the side to see Togame Jo towering over you. Eyes hiding something behind them as he stares at you with a small smile before finally looking at the leader of Bofurin. 

“Umemiya-san, thank you so much for the help” he says with a light tone, but Umemiya flinches a bit and gives a thumbs up “Mm! No problem! Always happy to help out!” Tilting your head to the side as you hear his nervous pitch. You wondered what he could be nervous about, a warm and big hand landing on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts. You crane your neck up to see Togame smiling down at you. You gulped thickly, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you clench and unclench your hands on your sides.

“Let’s head to the riverbanks as well, we can still catch the fireworks” You nod at him, looking at Umemiya who was looking to the side and trying to look busy. You raised an eyebrow at him before asking “you coming, Umemiya?” His icy blue eyes snapping at both you and Togame. His sight then lands on his friends who were behind Togame. 

“No, thank you! Pretty sure Kotoha-chan and the others are looking for us by now” He grins before swiftly grabbing all of Bofurin, leaving you and Togame alone. Wind blowing through both of your figures. 

“What the hell…” You whisper to yourself, earning a chuckle from Togame. “Don’t mind him, I’m sure they’re fine.” He holds out his hand to you. You put a clenched fist on your chest before thumping it hard, surprising Togame.

“⬜️-chan! Are you okay??” You hear him worriedly ask. Be still, heart You internally tell yourself before grabbing his hand in yours “let’s go before we lose a spot at the riverbank” You grumble and look forward. Avoiding eye contact with the man, what you didn’t see is how red he is with just the fact that you’re holding his hand, lips slightly agape as you pull him towards the river.

Arriving at the river, both of you opted to just stand, seeing as there were a lot of people sitting by the banks, waiting for the fireworks show that was about to happen. He hears you sigh to yourself, hand loosening the grip on his hands. Togame decided that he couldn’t handle feeling disappointed, not tonight. So he laces your fingers together and looks up to the sky. Pretending to wait for the fireworks, thanking how dark it is tonight or else you would see how red his face is. 

The vice commander imagined that it was awkward for you that you both are just standing there in silence, hands intertwined together. Clearing his throat, he gives you a glance before calling your name out. 

You didn’t hear it the first time, nor the second time. You were too focused feeling his big calloused hands enclosing yours, heart almost beating out of your ears. Taking you out of your thoughts for the nth time tonight, he gently squeezes your hand to get your attention making you look at him. 

“Are you okay?” Gentle low voice laced with concern, you couldn’t help but look up to him. A small blush spreads on your cheeks. “I’m okay” Your voice comes out shaky, breathless, the way Togame looked at you got you awe-struck. His hand gently but firmly holding yours, eyes scanning your face. 

You opened your mouth to say something but the fireworks started, he looked up at the sky to admire it, face painted with the colors of the fireworks as a wide smile slowly made its way to his lips. His free hand slowly takes the glasses off of his face and rests it on his head, and you think to yourself he’s so pretty because he is. The way his eyes observed every firework, adoring every color, sparks adorning the sky. “I like how the fireworks spark up the dark evening night” He whispers, not really expecting you to hear it, but you did.

You hear another one go off when words start to spill out of your lips before you can even stop and think about what you were about to say. “You spark brighter than any firework”

He slowly turns to you, his hand squeezing tighter than it already was. Feeling like he needed to ground himself or else he’ll think that this is a dream. “W-what was that?” He internally cusses at the fact he manages to stutter despite him trying to be nonchalant. 

“I-” You snap your head to the side, covering your mouth “It was nothing, Togame-” A hand makes its way to your jaw, turning you to look at him, eyes staring directly into yours. “You spark brighter than any firework, ⬜️.” it felt like all of the wind in your lungs was taken away. 

“Prettier than any firework, brighter, more vibrant than any I’ve seen in my entire life.” cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer to him, your lips thinning into a line as you grow redder “I don’t-” you heave a deep sigh, trying to even out your breathing. “I think you’re lying, there are millions of fireworks out there that are prettier than I am.” your voice coming out unsteady, it felt like Togame was taking away all of your air with how close he is to you. A deep chuckle emits from him, noses touching and lips almost brushing against each other. 

“You’re the prettiest firework for me.” He closes the gap between both of you, and suddenly you feel like putty in his hands. Melting away with how he tenderly kissed you. How gently he cupped your cheek as his hand let go of your hand and snakes it around your waist. 

The last firework finished and so was the kiss. Both of you were silent for a minute, thinking through what just happened, you knew that you needed to talk to him about it, about both of your feelings but for now, you both enjoyed the silence after the fireworks.

[shijjii]

I was rereading windbreaker after not catching up with the manga for so long and holy heckins the excitement that i got for them having a festival arc like yes i definitely predicted the future- /j

[baguettenjoyer-deactivated20260]

Matchmaker Caine

CHAPTER NINE: Funny…Save the patient

Summary:

A medical adventure, what could go wrong?

———————————————————————————

“TODAY’S ADVENTURE,” announced Caine, “IS ABOUT HEALING.”

A new NPC emerged: tall, thin, one eye twitching constantly. He wore a wrinkled coat over a pinstripe vest, carried a cane that he definitely didn’t need, and limped like a man who learned how to walk just recently. The cane was made of licorice.

“THIS IS DR. HOME,” Caine said, “THE GREATEST DIGITAL DOCTOR EVER SIMULATED.”

“I graduated from eight medical schools simultaneously while removing my own appendix blindfolded,” Dr. Home muttered dramatically, eyes shadowed. “Don’t ask where they were. Or how. Or why.”

“…Okay,” Ragatha said.

“Shut up,” he replied. She was taken aback.

Suddenly they were in a massive hospital with a hallway labeled “Department of Unexplainable Conditions.” Dr. Home took center stage and stared down the cast.

“Now!” he barked. “Assignments!”

The NPC’s cane smacked the digital floor. One by one, giant labels appeared above everyone’s head.

“Dr. Fiveman!” he shouted at Ragatha. “You’re in charge of diagnostics. Don’t let me down like your five ex-husbands.”

Ragatha blinked. “I—okay?”

“You!” he pointed at Kinger. “Dr. Chance. You’re in surgery.”

Kinger perked up. “Splendid!”

“You!” at Gangle. “Dr. Camera. Imaging. Even though you probably can’t tell a pancreas from a piñata. Stupid.”

Gangle sniffled nervously. She pulled off her comedy mask and dropped it on the ground to shatter before anyone else had the chance.

Pomni leaned forward, half-expecting to get hit with a “Dr. Something” too.

But then the NPC turned to Zooble. “You,” he declared, voice dark, “are Patient Zero.”

Zooble made a face. “What the hell does that mean—?”

Before they could protest, a hospital bed descended from the sky and swallowed them whole. Zooble screamed as they vanished into a tangle of IV tubes and blankets, the label above their head flashing: TERMINAL BUT COOL.

Then Dr. Home turned to Jax.

“You,” he said, voice venomous. “Are the secondary patient. Possibly contagious. Extremely suspicious and probably a liar.”

A second bed slammed into Jax with cartoon force and bounced him upward into the mattress. He landed, face mushed against a pillow.

“Great,” Jax said, deadpan. “I’m an NPC.”

Pomni burst out laughing.

“Oh, don’t take it so seriously,” she smirked. “Zooble’s a patient too.”

“Yeah, but Zooble’s already a lost cause,” Jax said, pulling his tantrum face. “I wanted to be that guy—the cool doctor with a limp and unsolved trauma. Not the dumb patient in the coma. Oh my god, I better not be in a coma!”

As if summoned, a label appeared over his head to reassure him: Mysterious Illness (probably faking).

Pomni snorted again. “You do have mysterious vibes.”

Dr. Home whirled back toward her. “Nurse Pomni!”

She straightened up.

“Y-yes?!”

“You’ll be tending to this insufferable cretin’s every medical need,” Dr. Home said, dramatically pacing in a circle. “Bandage him. Feed him. Ignore his whiny monologues. Nurse him back to health or he’ll die.”

Pomni blinked. Jax blinked harder.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Don’t argue,” Dr. Home snapped and popped a jellybean in his mouth, “now off you go. I’m going to see where Dr. Wayson is.”

The cast watched as the doctor limped his way out the room, slamming the doors shut behind him.

For a moment, the medical “team” just stared at one another.

“Well,” Ragatha clapped her hands together, trying to stay calm, “let’s take vitals and—”

“Vitals are a scam,” Dr. Home barked, re-entering the room like he’d been waiting outside for dramatic effect. “They’ll tell you what you want to hear. Vitals lie.”

“Okay,” Ragatha said, more warily.

Dr. Home flung a folder at her. It hit her square in the chest and fell to the floor, empty. “Dr. Fiveman. Your diagnosis?”

She blinked. “But I haven’t even—”

“Wrong!” he shouted. “The moment you hesitate, the patient dies. Next time, diagnose faster. Or get a new spine.”

Gangle raised her hand nervously.

“Yes, Dr. Camera, tell us what the MRI said.”

“I—I drew this?” Gangle held up a shaky sketch of what might’ve been lungs. Or a tree. Or two goats high-fiving.

Dr. Home squinted at it. “Hmm. That settles it. The patient needs—” he paused, spun around theatrically, “—one gunshot. Administer directly to the kneecap.”

Zooble, half-sitting in their hospital bed with one eye open, sat up fast. “WHAT?!”

“No time!” Dr. Home shouted. “Dr. Chance, prepare the gun.”

Kinger rummaged through a supply closet and triumphantly pulled out a gun. “I love medicine!”

“Is anyone going to stop this?” Zooble yelled.

“No,” Dr. Home replied flatly. “Now bite down on this kazoo.”

He threw it at them, bouncing off Zooble’s forehead and into their lap.

Pomni, standing nearby with a clipboard and looking increasingly horrified, leaned toward Ragatha.

“Is this part of the game? This feels—bad.”

Ragatha offered a thin smile. “Just roll with it.”

Meanwhile, Dr. Home paced in front of Jax’s bed, arms folded.

“You,” he said, stopping abruptly. “You’re faking it.”

Jax, lying back with an ice pack on his forehead, cracked one eye open. “If I were faking it, would I let you get this close to my face?”

“Probably,” Dr. Home said, poking him in the forehead with his cane. “Malingering, classic case. Probably psychosomatic. Probably caused by unresolved trauma. Or gluten.”

Jax groaned.

Dr. Home turned toward the rest of the room. “He has a mystery illness. Could be digital rot. Could be ennui. Could be clown flu—Nurse Pomni, take blood samples. And by blood samples, I mean quiz him about his childhood while making prolonged eye contact.”

Pomni blinked. “Why would that—?”

“Don’t argue with results. I once diagnosed someone with hypochondria just by smelling their pillow.”

He spun again.

“Dr. Chance. Prep Patient Zero for lumbar puncture. Dr. Camera, I need X-rays of the patient’s moral compass. Dr. Fiveman, get me a diagnosis by sundown or I’ll have you reassigned to dermatology, aka the loser floor.”

Ragatha started rapidly flipping through medical books that kept turning into flipbooks of Caine doing a hula dance.

Dr. Home stood smug, popping more jellybeans in his mouth.

“I love medicine,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

——

He had barely been “diagnosed” for five minutes before they shoved him into this flimsy cot and told him not to move.

“Lie down. Stay still. Don’t struggle,” Dr. Home had said, waving a glowing clipboard like a baton.

Jax flopped sideways, letting out an exaggerated groan as he yanked the covers up to his nose. The blanket was suspiciously crunchy, like someone had folded it out of origami and then forgotten to smooth it out. Ugh, why am I thinking about that paper again?

He peeked through one eye as Pomni approached his bedside, arms full of gauze, tape, and what might’ve been a thermometer.

“No,” he said flatly.

She blinked. “What?”

“No. Whatever you’re about to do? No.”

“I’m literally your nurse.”

“Did I consent to that?”

“As if we ever consent to Caine’s adventures anyway. Come on.”

Jax grunted, turning his face toward the wall. “I wanted to be Doctor Crazy, not some lousy patient.”

“You threw a tantrum.”

“Wasn’t a tantrum. It was dignified protest.”

Jax tried to ignore her. He really did. But the room was spinning a little, and being mad took energy he didn’t have right now. Plus, she wasn’t mocking him. Not really. She was… focused. Careful. Tucking the sheet under his arm like she’d done this before.

“Does that hurt?” she asked, tapping his wrist.

When he didn’t respond, she gave him a look. “I’m trying to help you, you baby.”

He closed his eyes again as she adjusted his pillow, and for a second—just a second—the nausea eased. He could still hear Dr. Home shouting something about “retrieving a diagnosis via interpretive dance,” but the noise felt far away. Distant.

He cracked open an eye to peer at his nurse. She was holding a tray of random junk: gauze, a plastic thermometer, a very suspicious cup of what looked like pink syrup, and—was that a sock?

“Why do you have a sock,” he asked flatly.

She blinked at the tray, then frowned. “I don’t know. I think it was… taped to this thermometer? I didn’t ask questions.”

She held it up toward him with two fingers.

“Don’t.”

“C’mon,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m not gonna poke your brain or anything. It just goes under your tongue.”

He flopped to the side, away from her. The blanket followed him halfway before catching on his foot. She sighed and reached over to adjust it, and he let her. Mostly because moving sucked right now.

“I’m gonna bandage your wrist,” she said, opening a roll of gauze.

“My wrist is fine.”

“Well, it’s not anymore,” she replied. “You’ve been diagnosed with Spaghetti Arm Syndrome.”

“That’s not real.”

“Neither is this hospital,” she snapped, and started gently wrapping his wrist.

He hated how gentle it was. Like she was actually trying to be careful. Like she didn’t want to hurt him. It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t teasing. It was… sincere. That was the worst part.

“Stop babying me,” he muttered.

“Then stop acting like a baby, Jax.”

The gauze tickled his skin slightly as she tied it off, like she was used to doing this sort of thing—even though she absolutely wasn’t.

Sitting down, she reached for the pink syrup.

“Nope,” he said.

“Jax.”

“It’s vile. Look at it.”

“Look at you. You’re sweating. You’ve got an actual fever.”

“I’m method acting.”

“You’re not acting. You look awful.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Pomni hesitated. Then, with a quiet breath, she scooted the chair a little closer.

“Hey,” she said. “Seriously. You okay?”

He didn’t answer.

He hated how tired he felt. Like the longer he stayed in this fake sickbed, the more real it became. His limbs were heavy. His mouth was dry. His brain wasn’t doing that snappy insult thing anymore. Just fog.

“I dunno,” he admitted finally.

She dipped a cloth in a little cup of water and gently pressed it to his forehead. He winced at the cold, but didn’t pull away.

“You’re warm,” she said softly.

“Well, nurse, that’s what happens when you get a fever.”

She continued to dab his forehead with this ridiculous tenderness that made something in his chest cramp up. He tried to ignore it.

He cracked one eye open. Her face was close now. She looked tired, too, like all this effort was costing her something.

“…You don’t have to try so hard,” he said, barely audible.

Pomni looked at him.

“I want to,” she said.

That shut him up.

And he felt his face go warmer.

——

Somewhere across the room, chaos was happening.

“Alright, listen up, you incompetent idiots!” Dr. Home barked, slamming his cane down. “I’ve got three patients with three different symptom clusters and one jar of honey mustard. Someone’s getting cured, and someone’s getting marinated.”

Gangle was frantically scribbling nonsense diagnoses on her notebook. “I think… maybe… Zooble’s appendix has migrated to their knee?”

“Classic rookie mistake,” Dr. Home snapped. “You clearly don’t know a thing about neurological spleen collapse.” He popped a jellybean.

“Uh, shouldn’t we run tests first?” Ragatha asked gently, glancing between Zooble and the other three patients wriggling in their bedsheets.

Dr. Home turned sharply. “Tests? Tests?! Did Galileo run tests before inventing the spleen?”

“…I don’t think that’s how that—”

He silenced her with a sudden lunge toward Zooble, who was still in bed but now wearing a neck brace and sunglasses for some reason.

“You,” he pointed, “have Implied Migraine Syndrome. We’re going to fix it the old-fashioned way. Coconut oil.”

Zooble let out a long, nasal sigh. “Someone put me down. I’ve had enough of this lunatic, take me home.” They didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Absolutely not!” Dr. Home shouted, arms outstretched. “This is home. This is where the secrets come out. This is where the mystery lives. This is where we learn who we really are, underneath all that skin. You ever dissect your own metaphorical heart?” He swallowed the rest of the jellybeans in one go.

“Should we call Caine?” Gangle whispered to Ragatha.

“It’s no use,” Ragatha muttered, her eyes baggy. She watched Kinger pour the honey mustard on one of the mannequin patients. “He won’t do anything.”

——

Jax was beginning to regret staying conscious.

His whole body felt like someone had replaced his internal code with wet spaghetti. The fever wasn’t just warm now—it was like his bones were melting in slow motion. Breathing was effort. His thoughts slowed. But… oddly, it wasn’t that bad?

Mostly because Pomni was still sitting next to him, holding a spoonful of suspiciously pink soup.

He blinked at it.

“I’m gonna regret this,” he muttered. He opened his mouth and let her feed him.

It was warm and sweet. Tasted like melted candy. Still better than the syrup.

She smiled a little.

“See? Not so bad.”

“You’re not bad at this.”

“Caine says it’s because I look like a child and everyone automatically gives me authority in caretaker roles.”

“Huh. You don’t look like a child, though.”

“I know!”

He almost smiled. But it was too much effort.

Another spoonful.

She was being weirdly gentle again—careful with the angle, brushing back his ears. It sent shivers down his spine. Her hands were shaky but steady where it counted.

She cupped the side of his face to wipe a trickle of sweat and lifted the spoon once again to his gaping mouth.

He blinked again, and for some reason his vision lingered on her face.

She looked tired. Not anxious. Just… tired in that way that made her real. That made him forget, for half a second, that none of this was supposed to be real.

Then—without his permission—his pupils went massive. Stupidly huge. They took up half his face and wobbled slightly as he stared at her and swallowed.

Pomni froze, spoon midair.

“Cute,” she whispered, caught off guard.

His pupils retracted rapidly.

She flinched. “I—I meant—your eyes! How they got! Big! It’s a symptom, probably! Like a—a dilation thing, and I was just—medically observing it!”

Jax blinked.

“You think I’m cute when I’m sick,” he said flatly.

“No!! No. No, not you, your eyes, they just—grew! And I panicked! You’re not cute, you’re, like, dying!”

He didn’t tease her.

He didn’t say anything at first. Because his brain had short-circuited a little.

He looked at her face. Really looked.

And his chest fluttered.

It’s just the fever. This stupid sickness that’s making me feel all funny.

Pomni looked away, cheeks tinted pink. She tucked the blanket around his shoulders like it was normal. Like she actually cared.

His brain—quietly, traitorously—wondered why it felt so weird to be taken care of.

His eyes started to close again, against his will. He hated that. Hated this damn adventure and this damn illness.

He slurred his words, barely audible.

“What?”

“I said I hate this.”

“I know. You’re a terrible patient.”

“Not the game,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering. “The… other part.”

Pomni tilted her head. “What other part?”

Suddenly, everything turned white.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The monitors flatlined and his body went completely still.

He was gone. The bed was empty.

Dr. Home poked his head in.

Pomni was already on her feet. “JAX?!”

“Problem solved,” he said. “The patient’s dead, case closed. Nice work.”

Pomni froze, staring at the empty bed. The blanket was still warm.

“We’ll count that as a medical success,” Dr Home added, “Now let’s move on to Patient Zero’s bloodletting!”

But Pomni wasn’t listening anymore.

——

His eyes blinked open, but the room still looked warped around the edges. He squinted at the ceiling, took a second to breathe.

“Ugh,” he coughed. “Okay. That one sucked.”

He was in his room. That much he could tell. The lighting was dim, everything a bit hazy. His limbs felt heavy. He slowly sat up, wincing at how much effort it took. Some of the sickness still lingered.

“Great,” he mumbled. “I die in a game and still feel like trash after. That’s fair.”

He’d died a lot in this place. Gag deaths. Explosions. One time he got eaten by a vending machine. But this one?

This one felt… too real.

The door burst open so hard it hit the wall.

“Jax!”

He flinched.

Pomni rushed in, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, like she hadn’t even stopped to think before running straight here. “Oh thank god—“

She stumbled forward. Her hands hovered like she didn’t know whether to hit him or hug him.

“Oh—hey.” His voice came out scratchy.

“What the hell was that?!” she yelled, voice shaky. “You—you died!”

Jax opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Why didn’t you say anything?! I—I was right there! I was feeding you, and you just—!”

Her voice cracked hard.

“Uh. Surprise?”

“Don’t do that,” she snapped, louder than she meant to. “Don’t—joke! I thought—!”

She cut herself off with a choked breath, then stared at the ground like she couldn’t even look at him anymore.

“I let you die.”

Jax blinked.

“I was your nurse, Jax.” Her voice dropped. “I was supposed to help. And I didn’t notice a thing. I—I gave you that stupid soup, I watched you start looking worse, and I still thought it was just part of the game. I didn’t even say anything when you went quiet, I just—”

Her voice cracked again. “I just kept watching.”

She trailed off, hands balling into fists, fat tears beginning to form at the corners of her huge eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, quieter this time.

“I was your nurse.”

“Yeah, in a game. A dumb fake doctor game invented by Caine.”

Her lips trembled. “Still.”

“You didn’t kill me,” he said, gentler. “It just… happened.”

“I should’ve seen it coming.”

She cut herself off again, her shoulders shaking.

That’s when he moved.

No hesitation, no snark. He just reached out and pulled her into his arms.

It wasn’t even dramatic. It just… happened. Like it was the only thing that made sense.

She froze for half a second—then curled into him, arms clinging tight to his sides, face pressed to his chest. She was crying. Not loud, not messy. Just soft and fast and real.

It hit him harder than he expected.

He rested his chin on her head, arms still around her.

“…Sorry,” he murmured.

She didn’t answer right away. Just kept holding on.

“It’s not like I haven’t died before,” he said after a moment. “It’s just… your first time seeing someone die in an adventure, huh?”

She nodded against him.

“I hated it. I hated how fast everyone moved on. How normal it felt.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I get it.”

Another pause. Then her voice, small: “I thought you weren’t gonna come back.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It feels like that every time, even though you know you always respawn.”

She let out a shaky breath. “It was stupid. It was a game. I know that. I know that. But it felt real. And I couldn’t—”

Her voice cracked, and she pulled herself in tighter, fists clenching the back of his overalls.

“You’re not supposed to care this much, y’know,” he said after a while, voice low. “It’s not good for you.”

“You died.”

“I do that. It’s kind of my thing.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Her face was a mess of frustration and tears. “Don’t make that your thing, idiot.”

Jax didn’t say anything. He just held her.

He swallowed.

That fuzzy, dumb feeling was back in his chest again. The one he kept brushing off lately. It felt… heavier. Like something that stuck.

Her breath evened out slowly.

“You’re not allowed to die again,” she mumbled.

He cracked a tired smile.

“No promises.”

She looked up at him, frowning. Her face was so red, eyes shiny. Cute.

“No. You have to promise.”

“…I promise.”

She hesitated, then let her head fall back against him with a small sigh.

He ran a hand down her back once, slow and steady, like it would actually help.

And they stayed like that for a while.

——

He immediately recognized the soft, hesitant knock at the door.

Jax lay in his bed and didn’t bother getting up. “Yeah?”

The door creaked open, and Gangle poked her head through the gap.

“Um… hi. I heard you… died.”

Jax squinted. “Mmhmm.”

She stepped inside, wringing the ends of her ribbon. “I just wanted to see if you were… okay?”

He shrugged from his half-lay. “You know how digital death is. It’s not abstraction.”

Gangle hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room, clearly not sure if she should sit, stand, or leave immediately.

She nodded slowly. “Do you want—uh, I brought you a—um—get well soon doodle?”

She fished something from behind her back and held it out. A little notepad sketch, rough but sweet. Jax as a patient in bed with a cartoon thermometer and bandages, looking extremely unimpressed.

He took it.

“Huh.”

“…You hate it.”

“Nah,” he said, holding it up for another look. “It’s me, alright. I even look grumpy. Pretty accurate.”

Jax lowered the paper and smiled. “Thanks, Gangle.”

Gangle fiddled with the corner of her mask, but smiled back. She murmured a soft “Feel better,” as she slipped out the door.

Jax stared at the little sketch in his hands a moment longer.

“…Huh,” he muttered. “Guess we’re friends now.”

———————————————————————————

This is the longest chapter ever, 3.8k! All the previous ones were only 1.5k hehe. Maybe because it’s a parody of my favorite medical drama :3

More about this fanfic:

Jax/Pomni (platonic), Jax/Pomni (romantic), Ragatha/Pomni (one-sided crush), Ragatha/Pomni (platonic), Caine/Zooble (platonic), Caine/Moon (romantic), Jax/Kinger (son-father relationship), Gangle/Jax (platonic), Kinger/Queenie (romantic), fake dating trope, jealous Ragatha, protective Jax, soft Jax, Jax is bad at feelings, slow burn, wholesome, fluff, light angst, good vibes, character development, digital death

Matchmaker Caine Masterpost

———————————————————————————

First | Previous | Next

[shijjii]

The fact that I can hear House’s voice in this is insane 😫

[imiya]

Old ~500 word drabble of a sad Jax. BunSteps universe probably.

“Doesn’t any of that get to you?” It felt like Pomni was staring directly into his soul.

"I’m used to it,” he shrugged. She frowned at him.

"When I say that, you get mad.”

“That’s completely different, let’s get that clear. Those are personal digs, you’re allowed to be upset at those. This is just how people vent their frustrations about me.”

That was before Zooble had said the thing.

Yeah. That thing.

Jax had laughed it off with a smile, but he listened to it. He listened to every syllable that came out of their mouth. Then he thought about it.

Then he said very little the rest of the adventure.

Then his smile fell.

He could tell Pomni had noticed. She always did. He wasn’t sure how, but she always just knew. Sometimes, her gaze made him feel very small. He tried to avoid it; he couldn’t risk feeling small in public.

He slipped away from the group once the adventure had ended. He felt a different kind of small now, curled up under the blankets.

He heard the door unlatch and soft footsteps grow closer. There was only one person he’d entrusted with unconditional entry. Or entry at all.

“Hey,” her voice was much softer than he was entitled to.

Fuck, he already felt it coming.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” he tried to keep his voice steady. He mostly succeeded.

With his back turned, he couldn’t see her, but he felt the bed bow under her weight as she sat. “Did you want me to bring you dinner?”

“No.”

There was a beat. “Let me rephrase that, are you hungry?”

He curled up tighter. “Maybe.”

“Jax…"

The mattress shifted again. He turned onto his back to look up at Pomni’s face and immediately felt tears well in his eyes at her expression.

“Hey-”

“How do you always do that?” He felt small again. He couldn’t stop his throat from tightening as he spoke this time. Even worse was her look of concern deepening, which just served to make him feel even more vulnerable.

“Do what?” She gently smoothed some of the fur on his cheek. His breath hitched and he brought a palm up to scrub tears from his face.

“...I lay here sad for hours and you come in and the waterworks start-” He really hated how pathetic he sounded, nigh incomprehensible with his strained voice and uneven breath. As much as he disliked crying alone, he felt much more raw and exposed whenever someone else saw him shed tears.

Pomni made a motion that he recognized. He took the chance and pulled his head into her lap, nuzzling her stomach. Her hands started stroking his ears. The one thing he was thankful for was that he was a silent crier, unless-

Her voice was gentle. “You’re not a monster.”

If Pomni thought his sobs were monstrous or manipulative, she never accused him of such.

[shijjii]

This hit me right in the heart and I just woke up

[bloodlette]

i always save these kinds of pins, and never actually do them.

i decided to change that

[shijjii]

My pen decided it’s time to stop for now 😞😩

[fleuresaint]

spare time °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: jax decides to kill time with you.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pre-pomni era, reader is called pretty, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

the circus was unusually quiet.

no yelling. no color-saturated chaos bouncing off the walls. just the low hum of the place existing, background sound looping as usual, almost comforting in its repetition.

you had tucked yourself away on one of the random lounge cushions left near the corner of the tent. probably caine’s idea of a ‘relaxation zone,’ though it looked more like someone had given up halfway through building a pillow fort. maybe kinger.

you weren’t doing anything special. just sitting. thinking. killing time the way you always did between adventures. you didn’t expect anyone to come by.

so when a pair of heavy footsteps padded behind you, you didn’t look up at first. not until they stopped just a few feet away, then hovered.

you turned your head. “...what?”

jax stared at you with his usual smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you always look so suspicious. like i’m here to drop a bucket of slime on your head or something.”

you raised a brow. “are you?”

“not this time.”

he sat down next to you. not close, but not far, either. his legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. he looked completely at ease, like this was his idea all along.

you watched him cautiously. “you’re not usually around during quiet hours.”

jax shrugged. “maybe i got bored.”

“of what?”

he looked sideways at you.

“everyone else.”

you snorted softly and looked away. “that’s fair.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. you fiddled with a corner of the cushion beneath you. he leaned back on his hands, letting the silence settle. not awkward just... still.

then, without moving his head, jax said, “you’re weirdly quiet when no one’s watching.”

“so are you.”

“yeah, but i’m allowed to be. i’m mysterious,” he wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect.

you rolled your eyes. “sure.”

jax glanced at you again, sharp-eyed.

“what, you only talk when the spotlight’s on you?”

“maybe i just don’t have anything to say.”

“you? nah. you’ve always got something going on up there,” he pointed at your head. “it’s the way your face twitches when you’re thinking.”

“twitches?” you didn’t think he noticed that.

“yeah. like right now,” he leaned closer, faux-inspecting your expression. “see? you’re doing it.”

you swatted at him, and he dodged easily, grinning like a brat.

“you’re annoying,” you muttered.

jax gave an exaggerated shrug. “guilty as charged. and yet, here you are. letting me ruin your precious alone time.”

you opened your mouth to retort, then paused.

“…you didn’t ruin anything.”

jax tilted his head slightly. “no?”

you shook your head. “it’s kind of... nice, actually.”

he raised a brow, clearly surprised. “well, don’t get too sentimental. you’re gonna scare me off.”

you smiled faintly, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“noted.”

jax shifted, now sitting cross-legged. you could feel his gaze, but you didn’t meet it. not yet.

“so,” he said. “what do you even do during this kind of downtime?”

“sit. think. sometimes doodle on stuff. talk to myself, if i’m feeling unhinged,” you shrugged.

jax snorted. “hot.”

you looked at him sideways. “what about you?”

“me?” he sat up straighter. “i usually find someone to mess with. or wander around until something breaks. y’know. jax stuff.”

“but not today?”

“mm,” he hummed. “felt like being lazy.”

“lazy with me, though.”

jax gave you a look. “don’t read into it.”

you weren’t sure if that was teasing or serious.

you didn’t push it.

at some point, you ended up lying back against the cushion, arms folded under your head. jax followed suit a beat later, flopping onto his back with a dramatic sigh like someone exhausted from doing nothing.

you were side-by-side now. still not touching. but close enough to feel the warmth of presence, that subtle awareness of someone else just being there.

after a while, jax broke the silence again. this time quieter.

“you really think we’re stuck here forever-forever? like- as in forever?”

you turned your head toward him. he was staring at the ceiling.

“i stopped thinking about that a while ago,” you said truthfully.

“if we are,” he said slowly, “guess it’s not the worst thing.”

you blinked. “coming from you, that’s kind of shocking.”

jax shrugged one shoulder.

“eh. figured if i’m gonna be trapped, could be worse than being stuck with someone who isn’t completely unbearable.”

“wow,” you deadpanned. “how touching.”

jax turned his head, meeting your eyes.

“…you’re tolerable,” he said.

you smiled, lips twitching.

“you’re tolerable too.”

he smirked, then looked back up.

the silence stretched again. but this time, it was warmer. less empty.

you turned slightly on your side to look at him, cheek resting on your arm.

“you ever miss it?” you asked quietly. “the real world?”

jax didn’t answer right away. he seemed to really think about it before answering.

“…nah,” he said finally. “i think i did. at first. but now? i barely remember it.”

you nodded slowly. “same.”

jax tilted his head, catching your expression. “weird, right? all that stuff we thought mattered- jobs, bills, whatever.. now it’s like it happened to someone else. not us.”

you let out a quiet laugh.

“honestly? sometimes i like it better here than out there.”

“ha. knew you were crazy.”

you nudged his arm with your knuckles. “you’re one to talk.”

“hey, i never claimed to be sane.”

you both laughed softly, then fell quiet again.

after a while, jax propped himself up on one elbow and looked at you more directly. not with a smirk. not with that teasing glint he usually had. just... curious.

“you ever think about what we’d be like if we met out there?”

you blinked at him. “in the real world?”

“yeah.”

you tilted your head. “i don’t know. you’d probably annoy me in line at a grocery store.”

jax laughed. “you’d give me the dirtiest look. like, ‘who is this guy and why is he talking to me about the cereal aisle?’”

“and you’d still keep talking.”

“absolutely,” he said. “i’d make you laugh eventually.”

you smiled. “probably.”

“i bet you were pretty…” jax didn’t bet. he knew.

you felt your face redden slightly at the compliment and you carefully inspected jax’s face for any sign of humor, but there was none to be found.

jax’s voice dropped just slightly. “you’re easier to read here.”

you raised a brow. “how do you figure?”

“’cause you try so hard not to react. it’s a dead giveaway.”

you looked at him, lips twitching. “you realize that makes no sense right?”

jax smirked. “doesn’t have to.”

you rolled your eyes and laid back again.

he stayed propped up on his elbow, watching you.

“you tired?” he asked, softer now.

“not really.”

“…comfortable?”

you paused, then nodded.

jax let himself lay back down again, just a little closer than before. your shoulders almost touched. almost.

“good,” he said. “’cause i don’t feel like moving yet.”

[shijjii]

Cute but the “pre pomni era” in the notes made me think that we (the reader) abstracted

[valsweaty]

I want to squeeze them

[kalpeavaris]

Gentle Claws

i'm just so- feral over them, I love these two so much. Especially in the context of my AU

I like to believe that Jax fell first but Pomni fell harder. These two fit like a fist into a drywall hole - a man having learned to resent his own emotions, and a woman unwilling to take shit, but very much so willing to beat the therapy into his thick skull /aff

The antlers above Jax' head in the second sketch are representations of his emotions - whenever he's angry, these antlers physically show up. Means of defense, a two-fold weapon. And these scars on Pomni's arms don't come from nowhere.

As mentioned in my post with Jax's and Ragatha's designs for the AU, they're siblings - growing up with the same berating & perfectionistic parents who each have different expectations towards their two children. As the younger child, Jax was essentially shaped into the "Golden Child", the prodigy meant to someday take over their parent's business and auction barns. This has lead to him being unable to healthy express emotions such as anger or sadness, leading to him seeking fights and confrontations ever since childhood constantly. Looking to physically fight other kids, resorting to bullying, anything to get this anger out of his system. Of course, this didn't went by unnoticed, leading to punishment for 'acting out'. Over time he grew to resent this built-up anger & anger in general, never finding a healthy valve to turn in order to quite literally let off steam. This is one factor in why he's often seen annoying and teasing the other people in the Circus - he's less of a bully now that he's an adult, but Jax still harbors very interalized hatred towards himself & whenever too much emotion is shown.

And then he meets Pomni - a woman growing up shy and reclusive, child of russian immigrant parents, confronted with bullying since childhood age. She had to fight & learn how to come out of her shell, how to stand up for herself, and she's not gonna let this be taken away from her. A fierce fighter both physically and mentally her introverted side does come through, though she's not gonna let people push her around anymore. Initially put off by Jax's behavior, Pomni soon realizes the walls he'd been putting around himself - confronting him, not wanting to let his behavior slide. This surprised Jax, who was the main initiator of conflict before, and taken aback by this Pomni had single-handedly managed to make his persona crack.

It takes time, a lot of time, but they eventually bond over this, slowly learning how to be around one another - One, who's learned that any closeness to others usually meant a fight, and One who's had to learn how to approach people at all. When Jax accidentally managed to hurt Pomni during an argument, he's suddenly faced with very real consequences of his actions - of his willingness to escalate fights for no reason but to let off his own anger & steam, and visually sees the effects he and his behavior has on people.

[nayahugs]

He hates seeing you cry !

Tetsurō Kuroo, who gets taken aback when tears begin to stream down your face during a heated argument.

Tetsurō Kuroo, who immediately stops to console you, shushing you quietly and mumbling apologies and other things to try and make you feel atleast a little bit better

"Shh, I got you, I didn't mean it."

Tetsurō Kuroo, who's anger and frustration is completely wiped away by now, replaced by guilt and concern, as he was the reason for your tears.

Tetsurō Kuroo, who will now stay with you until your tears dry up and you feel a bit better, not listening to your blabbering on how you're supposedly fine on your own. He feels responsible, so he'll be taking care of you. No questions asked.

A/N: First time writing in a really long time 😭 I forgot I had tumblr and I just realized I said that before disappearing again so I'm sorry for that haha!

Divider from pinterest!! I'm begging you PLEASE tell me if I ended up taking it from someone and didn't realize I had to give credits! And please tell me who it belongs to so I can give credits next time I use the divider.

[shijjii]

Something I have decided to start and don't know if I'll ever come to finish! :D

This is just something I kind of started to daydream about not going to lie. I don’t’ know where I got most of them but I really like where I’ve been going with it! Been thinking if I should make like character sheets for them… Maybe maybe.

anyway! here’s the thing

Pomni, our resident urbex by night, supermarket chain accountant by day! She'll tell you straight up if you're pretty or if you look like you just went back and forth from Hell but also is the type of person who'd get very anxious over an unknown number calling her personal phone!

The reason as to why her eyes are like that is because I got too lazy to do the pinwheel one and decided to go with 3D Eyes :D

Everyone's beloved disgruntled and sassy purple bunny, Jax! Would you be surprised if I told you he's a Psychology student in this little daydream I have? Yes? Well, not to worry! He's mainly studying Psychology as a way to figure out what really ticks people and by really I mean really ticks people. He's minoring in game development and is working part time for Kinger(and Caine's maybe)'s company which happens to be an ARG/escape room developer. Sometimes, Jax explores abandoned buildings to simulate an escape room and how he'd want to place everything in set.

The necklace he's wearing has a small frog design what who said that??? Also, the drawing on the top left is actually me testing out how I'd draw Jax first and then went wild in putting him in different clothes

[notgilderoylockhart]

subscribing to a fic isn’t enough I need the author to blast a bat signal into the night sky whenever they update

[shijjii]

Cooking something up and I dont know if I should post it