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bakerstreet2020-08-05 08:49 pm
cutenonny) wrote in bakerstreet2020-08-05 08:49 pm
Entry tags:
Let's braid each other's hair
Personal hygiene is just that - personal. By the time we've come to a point in our lives where we notice that the concept exists and we should be prudent about it, we can take care of ourselves. There are also many practical reasons why we don't involve other people in this process. We're not too keen on showing off parts to be cleaned that are private in most contexts, and there's definitely an ingrained aversion to showing so much soft, fleshy skin. Hot water or a sharp razor could spell dangerous with a capital D should they come into the hands of someone with a vendetta against you. No need to be extra vulnerable.
So, if you're involving another person in your cleansing routines, it must be someone you trust. Not only that, but it's most likely someone you're comfortable with and likely at least somewhat open to being intimate with. You may not be dropping all your clothing in front of them, but it's still you opening yourself up to touching and closeness unparalleled in more "usual" moments.
Established and burgeoning couples (or not-so-couples) can bond through this showing of care and good faith. Will you like being pampered and find the attention endearing? Or will things go terribly, terribly wrong?
...you never should have let them near that shaving cream.
- Comment with your character and preferences.
- Smut is not required. Mention if you want/don't want it.
- Reply to others and use the RNG.
- Comfort: You've decided to pitch in a helping hand to get your partner to unwind, and warm water or suds may do the trick.
- Romantic: The sole purpose of this endeavor is to set a lovey-dovey mood. No shame here!
- It Started Out Platonic...: What a good pal you are, volunteering to give your friend a good scrub. Of course, you didn't count on the cute way she squirms as you scrub her back or how he blushes when you shampoo his scalp.
- No Choice: Currently, you're unable to clean yourself up. That means that you need assistance, and it might as well be the person you lov- tolerate the most.
- Open: You have trust issues. Actually, you have backlogs of trust issues. Still, you want to show the person you love that you're willing and trying to change for them, and what better way than letting down your walls and having the assist in your grooming?
- Shave: Whether it's your face, your legs, or...your other places you've decided to shave, there's a certain intimacy involved in letting your lover do it for you. Let's hope they won't leave you looking like you got into a battle with a book with the paper cuts to prove it.
- Reluctant: They want to get you clean. You don't want to show off your body at all. It's injured, it looks weird, what if they don't like it...
- Forced: You love them, you really do, but you won't kiss them if they continue to look like an unwashed hobo clown. You have to draw the line somewhere, and if they won't take action, you will.
- Beat Up: You've been trampled in a fight. Your partner isn't about to let you wallow around in your own mud and blood.
- Hair: Some find that there's nothing quite as soothing as getting their hair washed or brushed. Of course, those with more luxurious locks may find any hair care a burden, so the assistance is appreciated.
- Make Up: They think you're beautiful already. See how they'll paint you up when they get the chance.
- Unique: If you're not human, you probably have your own proceeders you have to do to keep all spiffied up. There are wings with stray feathers to pluck, horns on heads to polish, scales to shave down, all sorts of tasks! Introduce your ignorant (and most likely human) boyfriend or girlfriend to your world...and your pain.
- Accommodations: Those with disabilities or prosthetics may also have their own routines, and anyone who wants to be with them should learn how to pitch in.
- Sponge Bath: You don't have enough water to do this right or you just want to give them a nice rub and scrub with a gentle sponge or wash cloth.
- Wound Care: In order for wounds to heal, proper care must be taken. Bandages have to be changed and cuts cleaned out. It's certainly easier when you don't have to do it all by yourself.
- Together: You're both cleaning up, taking a bath, splish splash, in the same tub because there's no where else to go. This is the most likely smut option, even if, again, it starts off "platonic."
- Clothing: Don't forget that clean clothes are an important part of personal hygiene. Always make sure your partner has a nice, fresh outfit, even if it's to your taste and not theirs.
- I've Made a Terrible Mistake: Somehow, everything's now shit. This little experiment went haywire and you may be sporting anything from the worst hairdo of your life to a Columbian necktie.
- FREE SPACE
ryuuko matoi | klk | ota.
15, add in more carnage if you feel so inclined
Ichigo has his work cut out for him, on the cleaning up his battered girlfriend front. What the fuck is wrong with them??? Man. If people actually knew what they do, they would flip the hell out. It wouldn't matter, Ichigo insisting that oh hell no, she wouldn't have it if he refused to fight her and Ryuuko especially wouldnt appreciate him holding back even more than he already does. Its a very well guarded secret of his, that he does at all.
Her work is equally cut out for her, though. Ichigo's head is a crimson faucet, he is covered in his own mass of near road rash like wounds from being scraped into the ground and thrown into concrete buildings, and his shoulder is definitely dislocated. The cherry on top is the fact that he is very sure that he's got some very cracked ribs.
Those are just the wounds he can see on either of them as they hobble into the apartment and make their way into the bathroom. Just another Saturday for them, right?]
I'll patch you up first but I need to pop me back into place.
[Ichigo is god damn smiling as he points to the arm that's hanging limp and at an almost unnatural angle at his side. He cant help it, he's still riding the high of the adrenaline rush… and admittedly, there is something cute about how fucked up she is?
Again, what the fuck is wrong with these two?]
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it's a wonder how the hell they manage to make it all the way home in one piece. there were a few times Ryuuko had started to feel light headed from the blood loss, convinced she'd black out. so she's surprised to find herself still conscious as they enter into the threshold of the apartment. it's an unspoken understanding that they're headed directly to the bathroom for clean up, kicking off her shoes at the door and dragging her feet through the living area towards the bedroom where she makes a small pitstop. pausing to grip the hem of Senketsu's skirt-
" Try not to exert yourself any further. I'm going to need a thorough washing, once you're through. "
clicking her tongue Ryuuko gently disrobes, hissing between clenched teeth at the added physical strain of lifting and maneuvering her arms up and over her head. once off, she lays Senketsu out flat on the bed, bloodied palms gently working to smooth out the wrinkles.]
Yeah, yeah. Don't get your suspenders in a bunch. I'll fix ya up, just as soon as I take care of the other loser.
[Ryuuko shoots a glance back towards Ichigo who's already made his way into the bathroom, peeling off her socks before crossing the room to join him. immediately her eyes are drawn to her own reflection in the mirror, clad in only her bra and underwear, together with the massive amount of scrapes and bruises camouflaging the surface of her flesh suit. to be fair, she's looked worse. but she's also definitely looked better- seriously that hair??? it's gonna take a thorough shampooing to get out all the blood caked through it. dragging her gaze to Ichigo's reflection, she snorts, because he's just as bad off. it's not that she didn't know that already, having assessed the damage she'd done on him on their way over- but seeing them both side by side like this really puts it all into perspective. damn, they're fucked up. so.... why is she grinning?
leaning one hip against the counter and bracing her elbow against the edge of the sink she turns her attention to Ichigo next to her. ignoring the throbbing pain in her lower lip.]
Need help with that? Not to brag, or anything- but 'm kinda an expert at this sorta stuff.
[popping dislodged limbs back into place is like riding a bike for her.]
no subject
While he waits for her, he pulls what even remains of his shihakusho out of his hakama, so that he can try to shrug out of, and peel the tattered fabric off. It's hard when he makes it to the side where his throbbing shoulder is just... grossly out of place, to maneuver out of it the rest of the way and let the top just drop to the floor unceremoniously. The gashes and scrapes litter his chest and abdomen as much as the rest of his body, and Ichigo frowns a little as he leans in towards the mirror to use it to look a little closer at a particularly deep one across the center of his chest. Then, Ryuuko is appearing at his side, and he uses the mirror to look at her and that grin she's got. It has his own curling back up, before he turns from their reflections to actually look at her.]
Oh, I know. I think we're both veterans at this shit. I'm not gonna bitch about the help though, it's way easier than doing it myself. [He turns, as if to offer the damn thing to her. Ichigo places one bloody hand on the edge of the counter top, bracing himself for the upcoming pain he's about to endure.] Hurry the hell up, so I can start on you. You were lookin' a little bit like you were gonna pass out, for a minute there. You've lost too much blood, and you're still gushing everywhere.
no subject
Speak for yourself. If anyone's gushing here, it's you, ya big lug.
[this is the part where she'd roll up her sleeves but, she's not wearing any, so instead she just gets right down to it. once Ichigo's hunched her way and bracing himself against the counter with his good arm, that's her cue to step in. gingerly taking hold of his wrist in one hand, the other moves to lightly grip his forearm just below the elbow. with her thumbs pressing firm against his pressure points she slowly draws his arm forward, palm up, eyes flickering to his face to gauge his pain level before proceeding. gradually bending his arm at the joint and rotating his bicep outwards, careful to avoid anything beyond mild discomfort. this next part is a bit like ripping off a bandaid, and her gaze fixes then on the ball of his shoulder, rolling it back into it's proper placing with a soft pop. after which she's careful to tilt his arm back inward, gently testing the range of motion.]
How's that?
[her fingers sweep the length of his forearm, ghosting around the patches of road rash to join her other hand at his wrist. before shifting to lightly test the flexibility of his fingers as she cradles his open hand in her own blood stained palms. once she's satisfied they're all accounted for and working properly she draws his knuckles to her lips, placing chaste kisses against the array of cuts adorning the backs of his fingers.]
no subject
[Any signs of pain Ichigo might have are very obviously being shoved down with a hard frown and a deep breath, because it's Ichigo, and he's not about to look like a little bitch in front of her. But also, it's sore as fuck, but by far not the worst thing he's ever endured, so really, it's not hard to grit and bare it as Ryuuko takes his arm and gently rolls it back into the socket.
The relief, not complete by any means (he's pretty sure something was torn in there on top of the dislocation, with how it burns), is immediate, and it shows with how Ichigo exhales and seems to loosen up a little bit. He brings that amber gaze back up to watch Ryuuko as her fingers brush down the length of his arm and she brings his hand up as if to check that he's in one piece. Ichigo humors her with a little wiggle of his fingers, before she turns his hand over and places those endearing ass kisses across his wounded fingers. It makes him smile without even realizing it, a look of warm adoration.]
Much better. Thanks. Now you, get up here. [Ichigo pats the counter to indicate that he wants her to sit on it, just like they've done so many times before. Then he raises that hand to pop open the medicine cabinet and bring down the brand new first aid kit he'd just put in there a few days ago. They seem to run through these things like toilet paper, honestly. Probably a sign that they have a problem, but... he doesn't fucking care. Some of their best time spent together is in here, affectionately cleaning up wounds they've inflicted on each other in the heat of battle. Ichigo wouldn't have it any other way.]
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[but fine, fine. hoisting herself up onto the counter with a muted groan- Ryuuko presses her lips together tightly (which only winds up hurting more, thanks to the deep slice in her lower lip) to suppress the pained sound. body practically screaming at her in rebellion against even what little amount of exertion that had cost her.
it's a miracle her arms don't buckle beneath her own weight as she lifts herself, exhaling shakily as her body trembles atop the unforgivingly frigid marble countertop. legs dangling over the edge Ryuuko reclines back a bit, tucking her chin into her collar as she surveys the worst of her wounds that are centered around her torso. in other words, the areas of exposed skin during synchronization, thereby the most vulnerable to taking the brunt of damage.
there's a particularly nasty gash below her sternum, stretching horizontally beneath her breasts, and another just below her belly button... with less severe cuts scattered throughout. her thighs are bruised and bloody, knees scraped to hell and back. her arms aren't too terrible, a few grazes here and there, but her knuckles have certainly seen better days and her left wrist is tinted a heinous shade of purple.
glancing back over her shoulder to watch him retrieve the first aid kit, she catches another glimpse of herself in the mirror. damn, she's a hot mess, dried blood clinging to her skin in patches from head to toe. including half of her face tinged crimson from the near concussion inducing impact with concrete earlier that's still bleeding and trickling down the side of her head by her ear.
once he's cracked open the kit and begun fishing around for the desired instrument Ryuuko slides that gaze back over to him, feet swaying lightly.]
You sure know your way around a first aid kit.
[she smiles, because they both know precisely how intimate of a relationship that is, for both of them.]
no subject
[It's said sternly, as he watches her hoist herself up onto the counter top. Ryuuko's just as well practiced at hiding her pain as he is, but he can see it in the way her arms wobble and the way her frown seems to harden with the effort it takes for her to lift herself up like that.
Those eyes of his have surveyed the damage already, but now that she is closer and in front of it, Ichigo is going it again. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, as his gaze flicks between the dripping wound on her head and down to the nastier gash across her stomach, weighing which one needs to be addressed first in an oddly clinical way. He lands on the head wound.]
Helping at the clinic kinda does that, but... I've spent a long time patching myself up, too. Even before becoming a Shinigami.
[Ichigo is stepping over to the sink and his hand flicks on the faucet so that. You know, wash his hands first, because they're covered in dirt and blood and that's not super productive when doing wound clean up. Once he is done, he reaches up to grab one of the towels handing on the rack mounted on the wall near said sink, and dipping it into the lukewarm water. A pause, to add some of the antibacterial soap they keep stocked up on to it, before lathering it in in one part of it.
Now he's ready. Ichigo steps back into Ryuuko's bubble, in between her legs and leans in. Raising one hand to grab her chin gently, he directs her head in the direction he needs it.] Stay like that. [The same hand moves to gingerly feel for the wound underneath that dark hair, and once he's hit the jackpot, he uses his fingers to move her hair on her scalp try to get a visual of how bad it is. Luckily, it's not all that bad--of course not, head wounds always gush an insane amount and make it seem so much worse than it really is. Amber eyes glance over to meet her sapphire ones, his way of telling her the sting is coming, before he brings the wet rag up. Fingers press in, firm, as he wipes the wound clean. Quick, thorough, and he holds the rag there with pressure once he's done, because invading the wound definitely has brought it back to bleeding.
While waiting for it to stop, Ichigo leans in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, before leaning back and offering her a faint smile.] There's just the three bad ones, then I think we'll be set to clean the rest in the shower after we do mine.
no subject
she can feel herself tense up when he steps between her legs, already bracing herself for however badly this is about to hurt. his fingers at her chin are a small comfort as he manipulates her head to get a look at her crown. naturally, she can't help but frown- but it's less of a complaint and more of a representation of her physical discomfort. being told to hold still would normally make her want to do the opposite- but not this time. she manages to behave like a good little girl, for once. a model patient.]
What's the damage, Doc?
[anything to lighten the mood a little and take her mind off the throbbing ache in her skull- god knows she desperately needs it. having him poke around at her hair has her fingers gripping the edge of the countertop beneath white knuckles. toes curling up as she gulps back the urge to whimper. she ain't no fuckin' crybaby, dammit! meeting his gaze and holding it for a moment before she wavers and the searing agony of the wash cloth dragging against her open head wound has her practically yowling between clenched teeth. her legs thrash, and her whole body shudders, but she does her best to remain seated still in his grasp throughout the process- it'll only take him longer if she doesn't.]
Tchhhhhhh--- god dammit that fuckin' stings!!
[yeah fuck this. she's screwing her eyes shut and blocking out all the rest........ until she feels his lips pressing lightly against her forehead, signaling a temporary respite as step one is complete.]
Ain't you forgetting something??
[glistening blue eyes flutter open with a pout, blood dribbling down her chin where she'd aggravated the gash on her lip. she swallows, tasting copper on her tongue, breaths nearly ragged after enduring that excruciating bit of cleaning without a damned thing to bite down on or null the pain.]
Four.
[she corrects his assessment, because out of everything, her lip is the biggest bitch to deal with.]
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[A verbal warning, this time, so that she can prepare herself for what's to come. This is the part of cleanup that Ichigo himself doesn't enjoy. The intimacy of patching Ryuuko up after their fights is always an oddly warm feeling; that she trusts and loves him enough to let him see her like this is an accomplishment like no other, but seeing her in pain isn't and won't ever be something that Ichigo enjoys. Hell, even when inflicting the wounds on her that he does, he feels a deep sense of guilt and worry. But they still keep doing it, because that aside, the adrenaline rush, the fucking thrill that they can stand against each other like that... too tempting.
It's the lack of the aforementioned adrenaline that does this to her. To him too, but she's a little bit more vocal about her discomfort when Ichigo is working on her. It's easy enough to take the hits when you're high on your body's natural stimulant, but to reopen and clean wounds without that? It's a fucking bitch and a half, and that fact is why Ichigo wouldn't dare to give her shit or call her a baby for reacting the way she does. Instead, he just offers her a knowing, empathetic smile as he drops his gaze to survey her wounded mouth. Eyes flick back up to where his hand holds the towel to her head, and he gently peels it back to see if the bleeding has stopped. It's a small enough gash that he isn't going to bother trying to bandage it under her tangled, ebony mop of blood soaked hair.
It's done leaking crimson for the most part, so Ichigo is able to bring the cloth down, to just as tenderly wipe at the trail of blood leading down Ryuuko's chin. Then, he is leaning in to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.] Hm. Don't do that again. 'Cause, I can't do much for that one, 'm sorry to say. So I didn't count it. [Straightening out again, Ichigo levels his gaze at her, looking serious now.] This next one is gonna be worse. I know it's easier said than done, but don't hold your breath. Make yourself breathe through it. It'll help, I promise. [His free hand comes up to find her shoulder, a light squeeze as he nudges her a little bit, so her back finds the wall next to the mirror/medicine cabinet combo. It exposes her torso to him better. Ichigo readies the rag, leaning down once more to get a good look at that very angry, deep gash he had left just under her breasts. The one he is pretty sure he's gonna have to butterfly bandage closed, to keep it from bleeding until her insane healing ability kicks the fuck in and threads her back together.
Those amber eyes are stealing one last brief glance at her, as he offers a half cocked grin.]
I guess you can punch me in the mouth for payback, if it gets too bad. Count of three. One... two... three. [With that, those swift fingers are finding the start of the cut, pressing in and sweeping across the length of it. Just as fast, just as thorough and unfortunately for Ryuuko, just as firm as the last wound. If he doesn't do it this way, it's only going to prolong how long he is probing at it. But hey, at least Ryuuko's got a boyfriend who's pretty fucking professional at this, and knows how to make it go quickly.
As soon as the rag meets the other end of the crude cut, Ichigo's hand angles itself to press the rag against it, this time though bringing the free hand belonging to his throbbing arm to join the other, to help cover the entire length of it. Rinse and repeat, pressure to stop the fresh bleeding as quickly as he can.]
...you good?
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still, some of the shit he says at times like this can get so doctor-esque she has to scoff at him sometimes.]
You tellin' me breathing is gonna make this sting like less of a bitch? 'Cause I highly doubt that.
[leaning back without question, she eyes his hand as he readies himself to address the next cut. feeding her that stupid, half baked line. she rolls her eyes, fighting the urge to sigh as nervous energy swirls in her gut.]
H-Hold on...
[no. she's not gonna punch him. but she is reaching for one of the other nearby rags, balling it up and stuffing it between her teeth so this way she doesn't burry her canines into her already abused lip a second time. it doesn't feel GREAT but uh, it'll have to do for now. locking eyes with him, Ryuuko gives a shaky nod of her head to let him know she's ready.
except, she'll never actually be ready for the pain that follows. the high pitched yowl that comes hurtling out of her throat gets muffled into the rag as he swipes the washcloth clean through the cut, fresh blood seeping forth to trickle down her abdomen before he gets the chance to seal it off again after.]
PHHHHUUUUCCCCHHHHH!!!
[those sharp eyes narrow as they glare back at him in response to his question. does she fucking sound like she's good, Ichigo????]
no subject
But again, that's just not gonna happen. While Ichigo hates parts of this, they really do both get a lot of satisfaction and enjoyment out of it. This is just another round of self doubt, something he goes through every single time he's gotta patch her back up. It does kinda make him wonder, why the injuries he inflicts on her take longer, when he knows for a fact that her body can snap back together eerily, in like an instant with other injuries.]
Sorry. Hard part is over, this was the worst one...
[Ichigo adjusts, so that one hand is holding the rag there, while he moves to fish in the first aid kit for a few of the butterfly bandages. He sets them on the counter, just beside her leg, and lifts the cloth to peek and see if the bleeding has stopped under the pressure applied. Not quite yet. So...]
Almost. But hey, your turn's comin'?