#I hate taking meds for pain or just meds in general

[braxix]

Elrond: I have a migraine.

Galadriel: Ibuprofen's in the bathroom cabinet.

Elrond: I'd rather suffer. Wake me up in two days. Peace.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Vent post in the tags don't mind me

[running-in-the-dark]

aw man. for a minute there I thought I might be allowed to take Ibuprofen again since I stopped taking the antidepressant that I was on. but sadly no, you're also not supposed to take it when you're on the anxiety medication I'm on 😔

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

[diejager]

Something crazy lol

How would the monster 141 guys react to hunter sneezing so hard their nose starts bleeding? cold is crazy where I am that this just happened

Cw: weird medical thing, blood, bloody nose, tell me if I missed any.

You caught a fever on the last mission, having to treck through the cold, rural regions of Finland, your bodies victim to the biting frost and staying in an abandoned bunker turned safe house for a few days resulted with that. As a medic - the medic of the Task Force - you knew what to do and what not to do, it was implemented in your training to rid of a cold or small sickness as quick as possible for a weakened body. They naturally flock you like worried mothers once you’re back on base, whenever someone was free, they’d tail you around the base, helping you with things if you had trouble with it because of your runny nose and dazed mind. They became your shadows, a perpetual shape following you from behind or the side.

It was expected from you to help even when you were sick, wearing a mask around people, taking care to avoid infecting others with your strand, and eating farther from your team or in the safety of your room where you wouldn’t worry about sharing the contagion while you ate. You took your medications on a regular schedule, a pill of ibuprofen for the aches, your pounding head, your throbbing joints and general soreness, and acetaminophen for your growing fever. You estimated, from prior experience, that your fever would break a week or two in when you took care to drink water, ate correctly, took your meds and slept regularly, but it persisted. Your fever was like a pest, consistent and stubbornly staying in your system. 

It got to the point that your nose became much too irritated, sensitive to the slightest touch or whenever you sneezed again and again. Your nose pained you with everything you did, and after one too many sneeze, something ruptured. You splattered blood on the inside of your mask after a painful sneeze, a raspy cough following it and a flurry of panic from them. Throwing away any caution and self-consideration for their health to hurry to your side, worried hands pawing at you and whispering their concerns at your sudden bloody nose. 

If they were worried about you before, now they were extremely concerned. Price had you confined to your room, tied down to your bed and left under watch with at least one man by your side, and they ignored every little complaints and huffs you threw at them. Ghost and Horangi had to manhandle you to your bed, laying your head on the soft pillow Alejandro and Rudy went on a hunt for and covering - wrapping you in with how much you struggled against them - you with a thick and warm blanket that Gaz went to the trouble of buying on a sudden whim. 

The sergeants had more time on hand, rerouting to your room so often that they lived with you, entertaining you when you grew bored from reading novels and watching a série or documentary on your tablet. They made you laugh and made your moments less depressing. Ghost and the colonels had less time to visit, but they came whenever they could, always bringing a plate of sweets or a snack to fix your occasional hunger; Ghost with his chip bag, König with his pastry, and Alejandro with his spiced food. Price was the busiest man of the team, glued to his desk and old and used chair, signing paperwork and having to think of a temporary replacement for you, but he still had time to pass at night or after he ate, bringing you a plate from the mess hall. 

You hated being sick, it went against all you stood for and it ultimately made your Task Force worry and fuss about you.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[moonstruckme]

Hi hi hi! Can i please ask for a remus fic where reader is very like scared of hosputals in general.

In in the way she'd be with needles or meds nah, she can still go but kind of goes on autopilot when she does?

I had to suffer for three months when i was just 8 in the hospital back to back so everytime anything related to admission or long visits just kind of scares me and brings it back.

Doesn't have to be dr! Remus but you can do whichever you'd prefer love❤️

Hi lovely! Thank you for requesting <3

cw: hospital, reader has pneumonia, mention of needles, also I used temperatures in fahrenheit but for ref 102F is ~38.9C

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

“We won’t be long,” Remus assures you, hand between your shoulder blades as you walk through the parking lot. “I promise, love, as soon as we get your fever to come down, I’ll take you straight back home.” 

You manage a hum. You’re trying to avoid talking, wary of another coughing fit. Or a crying jag. You hate this. You hate being here, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin. But though Remus tries to hide it, you can tell he’s really worried about the turn your flu has taken. Your fever had been coming down, but then it skyrocketed, an ache blossoming in your chest that was exacerbated by deep, painful coughs. So you’d let him negotiate you into a short visit to his work. To mollify him. Still, your anxiety makes the air around you staticky and tense. 

“Hey,” Remus says, stopping you just outside the door. He sets his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with a serious look. “I’m going to stay with you, alright? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, and I’m going to hold your hand the whole time.” His eyebrows dip up in the middle, concern mingled with compassion. “Try to relax, sweetheart.” 

You do your best to seem it, giving him a wan smile and reaching up to squeeze his wrist. 

“Okay,” you manage. 

He smiles back, taking your hand to lead you inside. 

The automatic doors open, and despite your boyfriend’s comforting words, your thoughts go all scribbly. 

Remus takes you over to the front desk to check you in. He must know the nurse sitting behind it, because his expression is friendly and his tone familiar, but you can’t focus enough on the words to make out what they’re talking about. You try not to cough too loudly. Remus�� hand comes up anyway, rubbing your back absentmindedly. 

Soon, he’s leading you out of the waiting room. You hear him speak, but you’re not sure if it’s to you. You don’t try to keep track of the hallways, letting his hand on the small of your back guide you to a small, private room. He sits you down on the bed, taking your hands. You try to focus on him. The soft, worried look in his amber eyes. The faint smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. The calluses on his hands, rubbing gently against yours. 

“You with me?” he asks quietly. 

You blink. “Yeah.” 

Some tension around his eyes relaxes. “Good,” he says, sweeping his thumbs back and forth over the backs of your palms. “You doing okay, love?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I asked you that a few times, you know.” He gives you a small smile like he’s teasing, but you can hear the concern in his tone. “I think you checked out for a little bit there.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, trying to breathe shallowly to avoid coughing. “I really don’t like it here.” 

Remus’ mouth purses, his eyes going sad. “I know. You know I wouldn’t ask you to come if I didn’t think it was important, right?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer. The coughing wins. You take a tissue out of your pocket, pressing it over your mouth as your eyes water. Remus grimaces, rubbing between your shoulder blades. He keeps going even when the fit ebbs and you fold the tissue, tossing it into a bin beside the bed. 

“That’s what I mean, lovely,” he says, gently but not without a bit of told-you-so. “That doesn’t sound like the flu, that sounds like pneumonia. Do you want me to fill you in on what’s going to happen while we’re here?” 

You nod, touching your forefinger to your bottom lashes to clear away the tears hanging there. 

“In a minute or two, a nurse is going to come in and give you an IV of antibiotics.” His tone has apology embedded in it, anticipative of your reluctance. You can practically feel the sympathy pouring through his palm on your back. “I’ve already put in a request for an x-ray, so when they’re ready for us we’ll go back, just to confirm it’s pneumonia and not a chest infection. Then, all we have to do is wait for the antibiotics to do their work.” He frowns. “I don’t think you need oxygen, but—”

“No thank you,” you say hastily. 

Remus presses his lips together and nods. “Alright, only if it comes to it,” he capitulates. “Once we get your fever down, we’ll pick up some oral antibiotics and go home.” 

“Down to 102.” 

He gives you an odd sort of look, and then the corner of his lips twitch. “Are you trying to negotiate with me? We said 101.” 

“101.8,” you bargain.

“You can’t change the terms of the agreement after we’ve left home.”

“102.2.” 

“Oi, that’s not how it works,” he laughs, incredulous. “It’s 101, love.” 

“102.5.” 

“This is how I know the fever’s gotten to you. You seem to have forgotten who has the car keys.” 

“102.6.” You start coughing, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle the wretched sound. 

“Okay, okay.” He rolls his eyes, rubbing your back a bit more firmly. “101.5. Final offer.” 

“Deal,” you wheeze. 

“Alright, stop torturing yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a good heaping of fondness. His hand is steadfast between your shoulder blades. “Just take it easy.” 

You’re prepared to try, but then the nurse comes in. 

“Hello?” she says. She has a warm voice. It’s a shame the sound sets your heart racing regardless. “Are we ready?” 

Remus’ touch migrates over to your shoulder, pressing you against his side in a quick, comforting half-hug. 

“Hi,” he says, turning to her with a kind smile. “Yeah, we’re all set.” 

He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He keeps ahold of it until you go home.

[globlingoober]

Jimmy is a very well written terrible abuser character. He really has no redemption and his thought process being “I’m the captain I’m the best I’m in charge” vs “I’m terrible and everyone knows it” is so interesting because that’s the thought process that creates many bad people with abusive behaviors.

All of the characters are well written I think because the game really relies on the key technique of show don’t tell which is the number one rule that takes place in good media. Especially a phycological horror. That’s from a general media fan’s standpoint anyway.

Stuck in space is such a good troupe I’m in awe that the game took that and made it terrifying like a proper phycological horror by having all the real threats human made while making the player feel insane and questioning what’s real. such as “are there real monsters on this ship?” And the answer is yes but the monster isn’t the visions of creatures it’s the abuser’s mind whom others let fester and evolve into thinking his actions were excusable therefore making them devolve into more bad extreme actions.

Playing from said abuser’s point of view gives the player connection to him and start the game with an almost defensive mindset up until they have to face the realization they are the problem and do everything they can to disconnect from Jimmy something they cannot escape from without turning off the whole game and just ignoring those actions. You have to face it. And as well as that mentality Jimmy has is portrayed we really only see his and some of curly’s perspective (two of the main causes of both the abuse and the crash) playing Curly makes seeing him dehumanized later on far more difficult as your forced to shove meds down his throat.

Anya, Swansea, and Daisuke are pov’s we never see and there could be several reasons for that and I find that so interesting. But we are not the victim in this game. As much as we hate to face it Jimmy is the main character and the main story is his and Curly’s experience. Because you play them you can’t ever completely be the victim. If “your worst moment” really “doesn’t make you a monster” then many repeating worst moments do. You can’t just say sorry you have to improve and change. Sorry is just another word.

You have to “take responsibility” for what you’ve done while still being limited to the actual actions Jimmy takes. Despite however you feel about it you still pushed the buttons. You still played out those actions. The game forces you to face it putting the player in the most humanly uncomfortable and uncommon position of all, the abuser. Many times in our lives will we be forced to tread the thin line of taking responsibility and wrongly placing blame (on ourselves or others) while of course our situations may never be as severe as the situations presented the game warns you of the consequences of- NOT your choices but the responses to those actions. It’s a big test of how the player responds to the characters actions that they contributed to.

I adore that the idea was to make the player face their own pain and hurt. That’s passionate. People relate to the crews cast plenty but the scariest part of this horror game is relating to the perpetrator!!!

“like you ARE the abuser. You have to realize that abusers are just people. People you thought were good before. They could be anyone they are some evil 3rd force. It could literally even be you” -My friend @willowwhirll

Feel bad. feel guilt. but manage that guilt. Don’t let guilt make you worse, use it to change your actions. As badly as I, the player, and the audience want to disconnect from Jimmy being able to find traits to connect to allows you to acknowledge you can and sometimes are a bad person. It’s a fluctuating thing.

Horror that teaches you a lesson. Fricken beautiful.

[spiralingemptyness]

Clone wars hc

Been lurking on tumblr for a bit (while) and decided to throw my own clone wars hc cause the hyperfixation be hyper fixated (sorry for any spelling errors).

Kit Fisto and Obi-Wan are bffs - They both lose their robes and seem to flirt with anything that walks. meaning they have get togethers and give each other flirting advice.

Jocasta Nu and Admrial Yularen are BAMF, and are severly underrated. you don't get away with hurting someone they care about unpunished.

Rex's first thought of ashoka was "that's a child" followed by "that's a child on a battle field" and then "that's a child on a battle field with no clothes, what the kark".

One of the shinies from Monnk's battalion definitely asked Fisto (while high on pain meds) if he lactates and monnk and fisto lost their shit and couldn't stop laughing for 5 min straight.

Kix (and other medics by default) have tranq/hypo guns for any vode or jedi that try to leave med bay when on bed rest.

Fox and Amidala gossip and constantly talks shit about Palpatine

Kit Fisto Smile Supremacy, this man win's best smile, it never fails to cheer someone up.

Rex definitely twirls his guns before putting them in his holsters when he's done using them

Bly is obviously in love with Aayla, and he tries to hide it (and fails miserably) but he's so respectful about loving her and swooning, that Quinlan couldn't even give him a shovel talk.

the clones were absolutely baffled when they met the jedi's

Wolffe and Fox are twins, they might be at each others throats 90% of the time, but if you talk shit about the one of them, the other won't hesitate to beat your ass.

Monnk says the most off handed shit in a dead pan tone (ex. Monnk: well I'm not gonna live, laugh, love this. Fisto, laughing his ass off: I-I'm Sorry? Monnk: I'm just saying this is gonna be a bitch)

Plo Koon is Plo Buir, He's at least adopted the Wolf Pack and Ashoka

the 501st and Ashoka are siblings

Grey adopted Caleb Dume

The Iron Battalion/13th battalion took one look at Cal and immediately adopted him

Ponds isn't dead (cause fuck canon), he found Boba before his schemes could go off and made him a deal, He helps Boba plan the assassination attempts on Windu (he trust his general won't die, but he gave him more headaches) so there's no casualties, but slowly the attempts stop and now Boba just lives in the 91st venator's vents.

The first time Cody picked up Obi-Wan's lightsaber he thought it was so cool, and now he just wants to glue the damn thing into his hand

Hound spoils Grizzer, he absolutely adores the massif

Jesse make sure Kix is actually taking care of himself, and make sure he's not over working (and when necessary, he uses a hypo to make sure Kix sleeps, cause Kix will hold that over his head and pay him back for it)

Fox and Thorn are opposites but they are really close

The corrie guard has a list of all the good and bad senators

The most forms that Monnk and Cody (and occasionally Ponds) fill out are forms for more robes

Cody's name is Kote (but goes by Cody cause so many nat borns mispronounce it) and Obi-Wan randomly asked if that was his name, and Cody was just utterly shocked

After Umbara, Fox say a very traumatized trooper (it's Dogma) who is facing shitty consequences for doing the right thing and adopts him into the guard

After Kix woke up from his stasis and found artoo's (again, fuck canon) he would stay up on nights he couldn't sleep and watch videos of him and his vode from artoo's memory bank

Clones using their Jedi's lightsaber - Cody using Kenobi's lightsaber after he loses it for the millionth time, Rex using it to back ventress away from ashoka, Fox finding quinlan's in a dumpster (with quinlan in said dumpster)

Hound let's grizzer purposely tackle people when he can easily apprehend them because it's funny or because whoever he's chasing pissed him off and he's petty

Yoda is the ultimate menace (like srs palpitine hates his ass, but yoda -and everyone else- hates him even more)

Yoda still keeps in touch with Rys, Jek, and Thire (mainly Thire) after the treaty or smth

The Corrie found Quinlan Vos in a dumpster and now he won't stop bugging them (expecially Fox)

Fox is a walking encyclopedia of every republic laws, you do one minor thing wrong and he can quote every law you broke, word to word

A trooper (let's call him Sharks) from Fisto and Monnk's battalion can just get a group of sharks to gather around, at every planet, every time, without fail

Plo's disappointed dad sigh can make a separatist army fold into defeat

Kenobi absolutely loathes caf, he hates it with a passion

Each high ranking clone officer has to deal with something of their jedi - Cody has to deal with Kenobi flirting with seperatist and losing his lightsaber, Rex has to deal with his general constantly crashing ships, his batshit crazy plans and his general continuously using the force to throw him, Monnk has to deal with his general randomly "shedding" clothes, and all the clones have to deal with their generals and commanders not wearing armor (Except for Jaro Tapal, HE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO WEARS ARMOR)

Corrie Guard can sleep standing up, very useful when guarding in the pods during senate meetings

The nice Senators (mainly Chuichi, Amidala, and Organa) and Vos very often get things for the Coruscant Guards, and whenever the guard see's the gifts they are baffled and bamboozled

Rex called dibs on Domino squad after the moon mission

Echo and Fives without hesitation took Tup and Dogma under their wing

Fives, Hardcase and Jesse started a prank war in the 501st that accidently evolved into a GAR wide prank war (with Coruscant being neutral ground, cause the guard doesn't need to deal with that shit, doesn't mean they don't help out)

Fox holds ALL the blackmail, and has multiple informants in every battalion, plus he has the power to withhold caf shipments

Fox also regularly reads his batchmates mission reports to mae sure their ok

The Corrie guard accidently adopted a stray tooka and a loth cat, now they're the guards emotional support animals

Rex keeps complaining about his brothers flirting with their jedi's that he didn't even realized that he third wheeled between Anakin and Padme that he joined their relationship

every mothers or fathers day without fail, shaak ti and plo koon always gets presents and gifts from their children (troopers and cadets.... and ashoka)

Coric is Kix's Ori'vod, he didn't admit it at first but Kix grew on him and well medics stay togeth

Coric purposely avoided being CMO of the 501st because they are hellions, Kix wanted to strangle him after he realized what being CMO of the 501st meant

Rex was on the 212th with Cody when Anakin was still a padawan

Rex hates evals, natural blonde plus Kamino is a recipe for hell. Also he was shocked at Skywalker being nonchalant about his hair, Anakin just though it made him cooler

That's all I have for now, if you see any you've seen before my bad, I honestly just typed the first that came to mind and kinda spiraled from there. I'm just now starting to interact with tumblr, so I might upload more and maybe even some art if I can stay focused long enough.

[steeltwigz]

This one goes out to alm the Trophy Heads, we're projecting illness onto Tissues again.

People in the Hotel keep getting mad at Trophy for being A General Displeasure, so as punishment they force him to use his exercise knowledge to make a yoga group activity and he HATES it, he knows too much abt yoga bcuz he knows everything abt every exercise, but he HATES yoga he probably thinks it's lame and girly. But OJ makes him run these or else he takes Trophy's blender privileges away. So, FINE, Trophy runs them. They're not very fun because people think Trophy is too judgemental and rude, but if they can ignore Trophy's critique, the exercise is actually pretty fun. Sometimes they do it in the lobby or in the spa room, but it's probably more common to hold these out in the field where they have the nice warm sun and the eternally perfect weather and more room for everyone. People tend to take these pretty unseriously and will often skip a few sessions, which almost makes Trophy even madder. But there's ONE person who shows up to almost every session, who's never been able to do any proper exercise becuz of chronic fatigue, who is DELIGHTED at the prospect of having some way to feel like he's getting stronger. Tissues shows up to every session, somehow, miraculously. Usually he takes a handful of random decongestants, allergy meds, pain killers, etc. And it does help, a little. He's a bit stronger now for sure, and crazy flexible, though who can say if thats really the yoga or some kind of new symptom. Trophy still hates Tissues AND yoga, but he has to admit that Tissues' determination is impressive and he cant help but feel a bit proud. Just a bit. And he would never ever tell Tissues.

Eventually Candle comes in, Maybe, I Guess. And she starts helping with organizing and adds a meditation segment too. It helps Trophy learn important things about Teamwork, though he kind of detests Candle I think, for her "taking over" his thing. His thing that he Hates, but it's still his. He and Tissues bond over gossiping about her. Tissues thinks her meditation sections are boring and they make him fall asleep. He's here for the GAINS not for the MINDFULNESS !!! Candle knows they do this but she honestly doesn't care at all what Tissues or Trophy think abt her. She thinks they're funny and if anything likes annoying them on purpose. Maybe. Idk that much abt Candle she isnt as easy to project on cuz she has like a more specific and defined personality than Trophy and Tissues. Okayy that's my headcanons brought to you by guy who is sooooo so so sick but wants to b Healthy and is trying so so hard thank you Yoga for everything

[artisticxlly]

A list of Haikyu!! character hcs

some of which are TERRIBLY specific! :,) Please enjoy and feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments! I'm all about exchanging hcs (I might reblog with additional characters orrr make multiple parts and link them here)

General hcs:

The people who I envision as chubby, buff, or just plain beefy have stretchmarks. I find it way more realistic (as someone who literally has them everywhere), and it adds some flair! Stretch marks are very pretty imo

Scars. People get childhood scars, accidental ones, surgical, etc. Whether its Osamu getting them from cooking practice or athletes from getting banged up! Idk I think the great majority of Haikyuu characters have some kind of scars!

Now for some specific characters!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa plucks his eyebrow hairs (because he likes them to look neat) frequently, but if he'd let them just grow freely, he'd have a pretty close equivalent to a unibrow?

He has moles everywhere. Like he looks close to a dalmatian /hj

Eyebags (ty noon). I'd imagine they'd be a result of a combination of pale, thin skin under his eyes and partial bad sleep because of joint pains

He had THE WORST growth pains. He had to actually work on his posture for a hot minute after puberty because he just curled in on himself way too frequently

He is a walking pharmacy if he carries his bag with him. He not only has supplies he uses himself but also for others who might potentially need something (pain meds, masks, hand warmers, etc)

He gets super dry hands and uses hand cream frequently, especially in the winter (the brand he uses is barely scented, he doesn't like heavily perfumed things (they kind of just smell like alcohol to him sometimes)

He is a little bit particular about smells. He usually sticks to specific scents when buying things that don't really change from brand to brand or product to product (coconut and mint are usually his go-to)

He's really ticklish around his ribs and hips

Kita Shinsuke

Kita finds cleaning very therapeutic, but he can get really bad pains or feel really sore after,, he gets into this zone where he kind of forgets to take breaks until the pain catches up to him

I feel like he'd really like lavender scented things... Both for the calming effect and just the general nature of the smell

Kind of inspired by the fact that he hates static? He really doesn't like scratchy/itchy fabric, cannot bear to wear it really

He prefers very simple textures when it comes to food (rice is a safe choice, of course). Mushy is not really a favourite. There needs to be some diversity in it (f.e. eating something like plain yoghurt without fruits or anything in it is iffy), but nothing overwhelming

He does yoga. Or meditation. Or both?? Something something get your head cleared a bit before you start your day. He likes the routine of it

He takes care of his hands very frequently, seeing as he works with them a lot and doesn't like them even just feeling dirty, he keeps his fingernails very short because he doesn't like to get dirt or grime to get stuck under them

He is a SHAMELESS flirt when drunk.

Suna Rintaro

He does a lot of stretches. He likes the convenience of staying flexible, and it's a good routine to ground himself!

Similar to Sakusa getting dry hands, Suna uses chapstick pretty much religiously. Having chapped lips gives him a pretty bad urge to chew off the loose skin

He has multiple nervous habits?, examples are crackling his knuckles and / or generally his joints, fiddling with his hands (maybe dermatophagia?), and also playing with his ear piercings

He digs deep pressure a lot when it comes to his partner. Like, I'd imagine him asking Osamu to literally lay on top of him so he could decompress

Also, he kind of has trouble falling asleep sometimes, but one of his weaknesses is listening to his partner's heartbeat

[sniigura-archive]

ok we know what adam and reader think and do for their children, unconditional love etc... and im going to assume the relationship between the kids are just like normal siblings, taking that little paragraph were one of them cursed at another kid for insulting their sibling; and they know that their parents love eachother, the constant sibling factory and accidental walks in are enough proof. But what are the kids thoughts about their parents? most of them are mom kids and since reader is the ruler in the house i think they are alright with reader, but what about adam? since teenagers are his least favourites, they have more troubles with him but now im courious of what do they think of adam and reader?

i sorted the kids by birth order btw

eden opinion on reader: respects her and loves her. comes to her mother when it comes to emotional support. thinks reader should enable adam less (she tries ok)

eden opinion on adam: capable guy. she thinks adam should take some deep breaths before acting (he does already 😭). she likes working with him together on their car projects and she always knows she can count on him if shit ever hits the fan

kane opinion on reader: he’s a total mamas boy which causes him to put reader on a pedestal. he was a highly sensitive child with undiagnosed ADHD and reader was the parent who handled his outburst and emotions the best. reader always suspected that adam also has ADHD and after kane finally was diagnosed and adam was like „what that’s what everyone does“ she forced him to get diagnosed. kane takes his meds regularly while adam. doesn’t. kane and reader work together on the garden!!

kane opinion on adam: thinks his father is an idiot and likes to act like they aren’t related (he’s very much like adam and hates when it gets pointed out). likes to make divorce jokes which adam HATESSSSS like don’t wish evil like that upon him!!!! the older kane gets the more he mellows out and is able to properly connect with his father. so what if they hug properly for the first time when he’s in his 30s

abram opinion on reader: respects his mother a lot and sees her as a role model. has autism and reader makes sure all his needs are met. it was his idea to get chickens and he loves every pet a lot that the family has. he thinks his mother can be very unempathetic, since reader has the tendency to think if every physical need is met that the children shouldn’t complain (what childhood poverty does to someone)

abram opinion on adam: good husband and ok father. he’s aware that adam tries his best so he can’t stay mad at him. they both work on projects around the house like making their own furniture, they build the chicken coop together etc which he enjoys a lot

setha (comes out later as Nick!) opinion on reader: good mother but they don’t share many interests together. still loves his mother a lot. the first person he came out to as trans masc but only because adam can be so insensitive

setha (comes out later as Nick!) opinion on adam: thinks his father is the coolest actually. have lots of shared interests and opinions. was scared to come out as trans masc but it all went well in the end. picked out his new name with adam!! plays drums and it pains adam but he tries to smile through it

ada opinion on reader: got into anime and nerd stuff in general because of her mother so loves her for that. has a tendency to hide away in her room which reader tries to push against. poor girl is just a huge introvert but knows reader only has good intentions

ada opinion on adam: coolish guy but they don’t have much in common. get along well. takes her father to conventions and sends him links to figures and mangas she wants since reader has a tendency to forget birthdays. adam on the other habd makes every birthday a blast for the kids. he suffers through the conventions because he wants to make sure his daughter is always safe

isaac opinion on reader: when he’s older he appreciates that reader forced the whole family into signing lessons, since he was born deaf. takes out his hearing aids and closes his eyes when his family annoys him. thinks reader babies him too much

isaac opinion on adam: fave parent because adam rough houses with him. gets his love for martial art thanks to his dad. randomly jumps on adam’s back for a surprise attack

lazarus opinion on reader: thinks reader is an amazing cook and loves cooking with their mother together. had their coming out as non binary by simply saying at the dinner table to only use they them pronouns from now on and everyone just nodded. knows that their mother tries to make it right for everyone and appreciates the effort

lazarus opinion on adam: wants adam’s rib recipe but he refuses and says they will get it as their inheritance. it’s his secret (he’s just being extra). adam is sad he couldn’t convince his child to change their name to smth band related. thinks their father should be more open minded but from the stories reader tells they know adam improved a lot

delilah opinion on reader: too strict 😔 (the only one who says no to her. youngest child privileges), has a tendency to bump heads because of that. at the end of the day they love each other but in the mornings and afternoons they want each other dead

delilah opinion on adam: daddy’s girl, loves her father. probably because he spoils her a lot. she’s very obvious adam’s favourite, since she’s a girl and looks completely like reader

[sadie-bug345]

greasers when they’re sick

i myself have been deathly ill for the past week so whilst i am bedridden i’m writing this🤡🙆‍♀️🤩 ANYWAYS LETS GO

ponyboy:

hates missing school solely cause my guy despises talking to teachers abt what he missed

also cause he thinks he gets super behind when guy just skipped one day of school😭

probably holes himself up in his and sodas room and when soda comes in to check on him after work it’s like PITCH black and pony is just sitting in a pile of tissues

”what do YOU want?” says pony with a voice similar to kermit the frog cause bros nose is SO stuffed up

and soda just assumes pony is in one of his moody, poetry reciting moods again and slowly exits the room, leaving only a baloney sandwich in his wake💀🤡😭

johnny:

def the type to not accept help

like he would go to school sick and the second someone brings up how his voice is screwed up he’s like 😐”what’re you sayin bout me?”

if the gang does quarantine him to a room he’d def just be able to entertain himself and prob come up with his own secret language and fictional multiverse or smth

idk he just gives the type to be fully okay with being alone for a bit but the meds he’s on make him all wacky too so it’s an interesting mix for sure

sodapop:

i’m sorry this guy has the most nastiest cough 😭

idc if he doesn’t smoke a lot he just got those mucusy coughs

other than that everyone’s having a good time, making jokes and feeling good and then soda pauses his laughter and unleashes the most rattley cough and then everyone just goes quiet and he just looks like 😃

definitely unfazed by sickness in general

until one day my guy just has the worst time and breaks downnnn🥰

we’ve all been there too esp when you’re sick and shit just goes downhill and everything sucks and you hate everything and everyone

darry:

now johnny doesn’t accept help but that’s NOTHING compared to darry

he has peak older-sibling syndrome and is just used to only helping other people

so when those people that he takes care of flip the script, my guy is just weirded outtt

like he def appreciates two trying to make him soup but he just doesn’t know how to react

goes lowk crazy with not being able to work or straighten up the house just cause he always feels like he’s gotta do SOMETHING productive with his time

dally:

i’m sorry but guy is def the type to go to school FULLY sick and either not say a word about it or complain like a lil bitch the whole time

also he totally smokes while he has a cough like soda which is so unhealthy i can’t even😭

just overall his habits and life doesn’t get upended by “some fuckass cold” (his words, not mine)

like bro please you just gotta rest sometimes😭

the gang is able to get him to stay at the curtis’ couch one day and bro just WIPES OUT

istg he’s out for like 15 hours straight in the full daytime and everyone is scared to walk past in case they wake him up

but dally is a crazy heavy sleeper so he actually gets a lot better after calming down for once🥰

two-bit:

honestly stays home from school like a normal person

except bro gets one cold and then just doesn’t show up to school for like two weeks😭

and it’s not cause he’s a wimp it’s just cause guy finds an excuse to skip out for a so called “vacation” and he rolls with it

and then he’ll just spawn back in on campus like a month later like nothing happened and everyone just expected two to take a dare too far and end up in the hospital🤡

steve:

CANT STOP WONT STOP

bro just pushes thru the pain😭

he probably takes way too much of the recommended dose of general meds (don’t do this please🧍‍♀️)

and then goes all loopy for hours straight

and people are kinda sus about it but honestly it’s steve so who is really all that surprised

LMAO THAT SOUNDS MEAN SORRY STEVE

ANYWAYSSSS i think imma post a romantic kinda sick reader x greaser thing so that’ll hopefully come out soon while im still coughing my lungs out🫶

[makos-hotbox]

Can I request a Ghost with a SO who has a horrible migraine and has been hiding away from everyone so Ghost goes looking for them and takes care of the reader?

LARGE FONT VER.

… 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄

`⌁ ◜ 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞! ◞

He had barely seen you all day. Odd, since you were usually out and about. Helping rookie soldiers or hanging out with anyone from the team. But hell, Ghost had been in the area all day and he’s seen you twice!

The first time was when you were refilling your water. Ghost saw you, but was so caught up in other stuff he didn’t get a chance to talk to you. The second time was on your way into the bathroom with your towel and bath stuff. Another missed chance of seeing you.

Concern began to bubble up even more when Soap started pestering the Lieutenant about where you were. “I haven’t seen ‘em all day. They okay?” Soap asked, sitting in the seat next to Ghost as everyone else on the team ate their lunch at the table.

Ghost shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. But, now that I have time, I’m gonna go check.” Grabbing the rest of his food to take to you as well as a drink, Ghost stood up from his seat and pat Soap’s shoulder, waving to everyone before he left to go find you.

It wasn’t a very long walk to your room, thankfully. Ghost knocked on your door, waiting patiently to see if your answer or he would have to break in. He heard a muffled groan of annoyance on the other side, your tired face greeting him once you opened the door. “Hello, love.”

Your hair was messy, bags under your eyes, and you just looked exhausted in general. Your brows unfurrowed at the sight of Ghost in front of you. Annoyed attitude quickly shifting back to one of pure exhaustion. “Hey, Simon. Come in.” You mumbled, holding the door open for your boyfriend.

Ghost followed into your room, setting the food down on your desk. “You doing okay? No one has seen you all day. I wanted to come check. Something wrong?” He watched as you trudged back over to your bed, moving the blankets and getting comfortable once again.

Your lights were off, allowing for the entire room to be dark. Ghost could only seem it was on purpose so he didn’t bother to change it. “Just a migraine is all. A really, really, painful migraine…” you muttered, bringing the blankets over your head to try and ease it some.

You’ve tried water, painkillers, food, everything. Nothing was making the migraines go away and you swear this was the beginning of insanity for you. A particularly harsh rush of pain pounded some more, a whimper of pain leaving your lips. It hurt so much.

Ghost didn’t say anything. Taking off his shoes and mask before joining you in your bed. He didn’t remove the blankets from your figure, but still wrapped an arm around you and tugged you closer. Ghost felt one of your hands grip his shirt tightly, trying to distract yourself from anymore pain.

Oh, how Ghost now wishes to have all the healing powers of the universe just to take away your migraine. To take away all the pain that you experience. Ghost already hates seeing you in pain, even worse when he can’t do anything about it.

He kept from asking anymore questions. Especially anything along the lines of “have you tried…” He knew you already did. You wouldn’t sit here all day with a migraine without doing anything to try and help it. It was a lost cause and at this point it would be a waiting game until it leaves.

“I’ve had this stupid migraine since four in the morning. I’m so tired. I’ve just been trying to sleep and it won’t go away.” You broke the silence, a slight quiver in your voice as you rambled on about your frustrations. “I’ve drank water, taken meds. Fuck I’ve done every herbal remedy in the book. It just hurts so fucking bad.”

Ghost heard a sniffle come from you under the blanket. “I’m sorry to hear that, love. And I’m sorry that there isn’t much I can do…” he sighed.

“It’s okay. Just… stay with me please?” You rolled over under the covers so you could press your forehead against his chest. Curled up and snug against your boyfriend as he comforted you.

Ghost hummed, “of course. I don’t plan on leaving until you feel better.” Growing a bit too hot under the blankets, you slowly peaked your head out. Looking up at Ghost with teary eyes, he leaned down to place a quick kiss to your head. Bringing a hand up to tuck your head back into his chest.

Listening to his heartbeat, you tried to distract yourself from the pain. Both of Ghost’s hands eventually found their way into your hair. His fingers slowly began massaging your scalp. Moving from your hairline, to your temples, and all around. It felt… good? Ghost’s fingers left a trail of relaxation across your scalp. Every spot he massaged felt like it physically cooled off. It wasn’t getting rid of your headache completely by any means. But it sure as hell felt good enough to calm you down.

The two of you laid with each other in silence for the next few minutes. Ghost never stopped his slow massaging of your scalp after he did once and earned a grumble from you. Finally, your mind felt a little bit of peace for the first time all day and your heart felt full and warm after being accompanied by your boyfriend. But eventually, exhaustion caught up with your body and you felt your eyelids become heavy.

You snuggled impossibly closer to Ghost, getting comfortable as possible. “Thank you, Si… I love you so much.” you whispered to him.

“I love you too, Y/n. Get some sleep, love.” Ghost responded, playing with your hair with one hand, massaging your scalp with the other. It was all too much comfort and relaxation, and you finally fell asleep. Curled up in the warm embrace of your lover, who fell asleep not much longer after you.

REQUESTS:: OPEN

» 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 … 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐭

[spliffymae]

TOUCH ME.

synopsis: dabi hates being touched—always has. he hates people touching him. he hates people in general. but there’s something about the cute doctor in his apartment building…who just so happens to be his ex.

⚠️exboyfriend!dabi, swearing, smut, dabi got a dick piercing, pet names (doll, babe, angel…), mentions of drug use, slight pain kink if you squint, aggressive sex, possessive!dabi, reader and dabi are toxic, reader has no backbone when it comes to dabi (sorry not sorry😭) MINORS DNI ! 18+

kio’s notes - i need to catch up on mha but it is so hard to watch anime after reading/writing fics 😭 i can’t watch it the same as i used to.

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

there was this annoying tune stuck in your head. you couldn’t tell from where but it was one of those tunes you couldn’t help but hum to yourself. the title of the song, who sung it, it’s significance—it all was a blur in your brain.

so as you rummaged in the cabinet under your sink, you hummed the soon to be dreadful tune as you searched for the white tin first aid kid you had.

you could hear the groans coming from your living room, but you drowned them out with the tune as you moved stuff around the cabinet to get the kit.

“doll! any time you want to join’ll be great!” you heard dabi cry from the other room, his voice strained. you rolled your eyes at his impatience. you literally stepped away from him for like two minutes. it wasn’t like he was dying.

“coming, coming.” you mumbled more to yourself than him. you were tired, it was late, and yet here you were getting ready to patch up one of your rudest and most annoying clients.

as your sock clad feet padded back to the living room, you could hear dabi’s winces and groans. “here’s what i don’t understand,” you started once you got in his eyesight, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. he was manspread on your couch, right hand putting pressure on his left shoulder. he had gotten a large gash on his shoulder, and had popped his staple stitches.

“there is a perfectly good, twenty-four-hour clinic for you villainous beings, and yet you come to me. even though i charge double what the clinic does.” you criticize, smacking his hand away so you can look at the wound. you had given him a cold rag and the instruction to apply pressure while you searched for the med kit.

the bleeding had calmed down, and allowed you to properly disinfect the wound. dabi had winced as you cleaned him, but it fell on deaf ears. “easy, doll. not like i’m invincible to the feeling.”

he grabbed your wrist to stop you. the cotton pad soaked in anti-bacteria liquid was now stained with his blood. you looked at him with tired eyes. you wanted to make this as quick and efficient as possible so he could leave.

“be gentle with me, pretty. took a big hit tonight.” he let out a grunt as he tried to straighten up his seat.

you shrugged, not caring, “your fault.” you mumbled, taking up a new cotton ball and soaking it in the liquid before cleaning his cut again. you pushed harder into the wound, getting dabi to groan and smack your hand away.

“fuck’s sake, (y/n). just because it’s purple doesn’t mean i lost feeling! the shit hurts!” he had narrowed his eyes at you, jaw clenched and pissed.

“listen, it’s late and you came in unannounced, without so much as a heads up. you got your blood on my carpet and couch pillow…so clearly we’re not having consideration for each other.” you were sarcastic, your tone indicating that he had pushed your patience to your limit in the couple minutes you had spent mending his wound.

“you are more than welcome to get out and go to your underground villain clinic.” you sat back to give him space, an indication you were one step away from just going back to sleep and leaving him to solve his problem on his own. you were already dressed the part—a black oversized tee with nothing but your panties underneath. orange knee high fuzzy socks and your all might bonnet. you were prepared to have a personal night-in.

frankly, had dabi been courteous enough to send you a text to see if you were even home, you would be a lot nicer. but polite was not dabi.

no, sliding your bedroom window up and coming into your room unannounced was dabi. he climbed the fire escape of your building until he got to your room, about two stories up from the ground. his shoes were muddy, but he didn’t care as he stepped onto your plush white rug, his crimson blood flowing down his arm and dropping at his fingers. the white of the faux fur was hues of red and pink now. your brown hardwood floors showed the trail he walked when leaving your room to the couch.

“bro, i have a friggin door!” you exclaimed. he had come in during your binge watching, interrupting the finale of the show you had put two months into watching. the giant bowl of popcorn you had now grew stale as it sat on your counter.

dabi didn’t say anything. he bit back the rude comment that lied on his tongue. he could’ve gone to the clinic. twice had offered to take him, but he declined. he wanted to come to you. wanted you to make him better.

“m’good right here, angel.” his lips formed a smirk. he was still breathing hard, still in pain—probably more now that the adrenaline he had died down. his way of letting you know he would ease up and take the pain without complaining.

you nodded and continued to clean. this time, to prevent him from speaking, you hummed the tune to distract yourself.

“fuck that song.” dabi groaned, throwing his head back.

your ears perked up. maybe now you could finally figure out the name of the song. “what’s it called again? s’been stuck in my head all day.” you asked him. if he was going to be taking up your night the least he could do is provide relief to you, having been stuck with the tune all day and night.

“some song by the weeknd. i think it’s called acquainted or some dumb name like that.”

you smiled, “didn’t take you for a weeknd listener.”

back when you two were dating, dabi’s music interest was rock, metal—what anyone who looked at him thought he listened to. he also had a few trap, hip hop and old school gangsta rap artists in his rotation, but stayed away from rnb.

you on the other hand, were like if erykah badu, jasmine sullivan, and jhene aiko had a baby. you were a soul child at heart and we’re always listening to “some rnb song” as dabi would call it. he really would only listen to rnb if he were with you. never on his own. so for him to know the song and it to be an rnb song, you were impressed.

dabi chuckled. you expected a cute comment to follow, you weren’t going to lie. maybe something like ‘you were always listening so i gave him a try’ or along those lines.

but what you got instead was completely uncalled for.

“fucked a girl to it a couple weeks ago. she had a solid playlist.” he laughed to himself with a smug smirk on his face.

and instantly, at the mention of him being with someone else, your mood changed. was it jealousy? was it anger? sadness?

whatever it was, it caused you to take up the anti-bacteria bottle and squeeze the liquid right into his wound. dabi jolted, the stinging sensation was strong and he swore he heard his body start to fizz at the reaction.

“motherfucker!” he groaned, jumping up from the couch. his eyes were closed shut and he hissed, clenching his jaw to grit through the pain. he was feeling dizzy from it, and his body started to get hot.

you were satisfied, on the outside. but on the inside you felt a crack in your heart. but you masked it. you stood up from the table, the tin that was on your lap now in your hand. you threw it on the couch lazily. “clean your fucking self up.” you mumbled.

the plan was to walk away from him. to go back to your room and retreat under the covers until you heard him slam your door as he left. that’s what you decided would happen, what you would do. but in typical dabi fashion, he did the opposite.

he grabbed your wrist with his good hand and spun you around to face him. “why the fuck would you do that?!”

“why the hell are you fucking other bitches?!” you spat back.

lord, it was two-thirty in the morning and you were yelling at a man who had his upper body’s skin basically torn open. the bleeding had stopped, but he still needed to be patched up. stitches replaced.

dabi snorted, “that’s what that was for? you’re jealous? c’mon babe,” he pulled you closer, “would it make you feel better if i said her pussy wasn’t as good as yours? didn’t make me cum as fast? didn’t suck me in just how i like? hmm?” he tapped your chin to further his patronizing.

you sucked your teeth, trying to move from his hold but he only gripped onto your jaw tighter. you weren’t stronger than him, and he knew this. so you just did what you knew how and that was pout and stay quiet.

“aww, not you pouting. what? want me to compare and contrast, doll?…you know i will.” he was having fun with you, with your envy and anger. he didn’t plan to tell you about the one night stand. it wasn’t anything serious to him, really. he had been drunk at a bar with you on his mind and the opportunity to release the sexual frustration he felt presented itself. you weren’t supposed to find out, but hey, shit gets out.

“get the fuck off me.” you spoke through gritted teeth, but he only laughed as a response.

“finish patching me back up and i’ll be out of your way. physically, at least.. that beautiful mind’ll always be thinking of me, unfortunately.” he was smug, he felt cocky. you could mask the anger in your face all you wanted, but he saw the glint in your eyes. the way all the light of opportunity seemed to leave them with his revelation. you were pissed, he knew.

“ask your other bitch to do it.”

“mm, nah, i rather you do it. tender touch, lover’s hand, s’all.” he shrugged. he was playing games with you, testing you. the question was how far was he going to take this. what was his end goal?

he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, smiling when you instinctively tilted your head upward. “c’mon doll, stitch me back up so i can show you my utmost appreciation…want you to touch me.”

the music did little to cover the noise in your living room.

“mhm, just what i thought. poor baby missed me.” dabi cooed into your ear with the slyest smirk on his lips as his tip pushed past your wet folds. he was speaking to your cunt, not you.

you gasped at the stretch. you haven’t felt him inside in so long, the feeling both familiar and strange. “dabi,” your voice cracked from above him, but he didn’t care.

you were foolish enough to continue with patching him up. giving him absorbable sutures and re-stapling his skin. dumb enough to hand him a glass of water and tylenol for the pain, and a rolled blunt to take his mind off it.

you should feel dumb. dumb for letting him back inside, your apartment and your body. but here you were, straddling his lap in only your oversized shirt, with your panties pushed to the side as he eased you onto his cock. you could feel all of him, the prominent vein on the underside, his bulbous head at your cervix. his jacobs ladder piercing aiding the pleasurable burn of your walls being stretched. it had been too long without him, but now in this position, you felt ecstasy.

“d-dabi.” you choked out. your bodies were pressed against one another, your hand in his hair and grabbing at the roots. he didn’t care, he was too high (off the feeling of you and the weed) to care.

your walls hugged him just as he remembered, sucking him in snug and tight like he loved. fuck, he missed your pussy like crazy.

“oh shit, doll. m‘feeling like cummin’ already and you didn’t even do shit. fuckin’ slut.” he bit his lip once he was fully bottomed out.

you took that as a sign to start, and began bouncing, on your tippy toes with your arms around the back of the sofa.

dabi smiled, satisfaction radiating off him, “look at you-hah—so pretty f’me baby. riding me so good, just how i like it. always taking care of me.” he only had one good hand, and used it to squeeze your waist as you bounced on him, channeling your inner megan thee stallion.

you were a choked up mess, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you fucked yourself onto dabi’s cock. he was satisfied on being used by you. treating him like nothing just to get off. least you could do, really. after the many times he’s done you wrong.

he couldn’t explain it, the way fighting was always part of his plan to come back to you. what were you two if not a concoction of chaos and torment to one another? you wanted him to hear your name and roll his eyes in annoyance, but have his heart skip a beat with anticipation. he wanted the sight of his large frame towering over your own to leave a mess in your underwear and burn into your memory forever.

the word was toxic, and you both knew it, but didn’t read too much into it. wasn’t it enough to just acknowledge it?

dabi began to match his thrusts with your bounces. it brought him deeper inside of you. feeling like he was in your stomach. like you were full of him. he squeezed your neck, black painted nails digging into your skin.

“d-dabi.” you hit his shoulder as you struggle to catch your breath. he didn’t want to choke you unconscious, but he did want to limit your airway to maximize your pleasure.

he was so drunk off you, his moans growing louder against your ear, “fuck you, slut. so good for me. that’s what you wanna hear baby? huh? that this is all i need? you are all i need?”

when you were together, he struggled with intimate words. he loved you, he knew. he fucked you like it, you knew. but he couldn’t communicate his feelings outside of a sexual atmosphere. sex became his outlet—pain, anger, love…he gave it all to sex.

you threw your head back, eyes closed and mouth open but nothing came out. you had no words, no sound—nothing.

dabi squinted at the sight. he never truly could get over how precious you looked dumb off his cock. it had to be his top three favourite looks on your face. the other two being when you’re mad and after he tell you he loves you.

there was nothing in your head except him. all of him. his body, his voice, the way he touched you. his stitches grazing your skin and hands rough from fighting. there was a naturally smoky smell he carried—due to him using his quirk excessively. but you found over time it would mix with his cologne, and be the one scent to give you infinite comfort. dabi was in connection with all five of your senses, and in his mind, it was about time.

he brought your head back to face straight, forehead against his as his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss. there was no need to fight for dominance. he had it, you both knew.

you don’t know how you kept riding him this long. your thighs felt like they were on fire. they were burning. your grip on the back of the sofa tightened, using it to help you continue riding dabi to his orgasm.

“babe, i’m cumming. gonna come in this pussy, my pussy. fuckin ruin you for anyone else. y’hear me?” his grip went back to your jaw, his index finger and thumb keeping your mouth opened. it was a pain you found different, but one you were okay with.

you cut your eye at him, the hatred you had somehow swirling in the pits of your stomach alongside the butterflies he gave you.

“i-i” you tried to speak, but he taunted you by moving your jaw. you could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten as he edged himself, prolonging his end as to not come before you.

you didn’t want to cum until you said what you wanted to say, but he kept his hand in place, not budging when you grabbed his wrist to move it.

it was almost like a reflex, the way your right hand let go of the sofa and moved to his shoulder below, digging your nails into his stitched up wound. he screamed, the sudden feeling overwhelming his concentration and forcing his orgasm. his hand moved off your jaw, going to your back and pulling your body flush against him.

“i hate you.” you say just as you climax, dabi rubbing circles onto your clit. you two ride your highs out together, him leaving opened mouth kisses along your neck and leaving behind hickies. you tasted of salt, smelled of sex, but he didn’t care. you were delicious.

you looked up to the ceiling, eyes shut and mind racing with what just took place. there was this feeling in your chest. a feeling of regret, disappointment, but also…one of peace. contentment?

dabi pulled away from your neck and looked up at you. his pupils were blown and eyelids low. you hated him. you hated the way he looked so fucked out.

he took up your hand that was at your side and brought it to his cheek. you cupped it, feeling the duality of the smooth and rough skin. his hold on your wrist was warm, tight. he brought your red palm to his lips, stained by his dry blood, and kissed it.

you hated him. hated how he held you close so you wouldn’t get up. how he grabbed a blanket to throw over the two of you.

“i really fucking hate you.” you yawned. your eyes met once again. this time dabi smiling at you as he mumbled,

“love you too, pretty.”

[nerdieforpedro]

Did you say Raspberry Beret or Tea?

Dieter Bravo x plus size female reader

This blog is 18+ MDNI

This fic is for general audiances.

Word Count: 777 (Go buy a lotto ticket! 😎)

Summary: You're having a horrible period day and Dieter makes it better. No raspberries were harmed in the making of this fic.

Warnings: mentions of periods, discomfort, fluff

Notes: Not beta-ed. I wrote it at work and tired out a moodboard I think. I'm playing around with them. I blame my uterus for this fic as today sucked while I worked. 😑

“Ugh….I roll and I roll and it does nothing.” Your oversized t-shirt rides up under your breasts which adds to your annoyance. You’re sweating and having chills at the same time. Sprawled across the bed, you’ve tried both of your sides, laying on your back which led you to curve it in pain and on your stomach, you had a few minutes or relief before another heat wave came and made it too hot to stay face down.

Sitting up at the side of the bed, your hair is lopsided and your silk bonnet is on the floor. You don’t remember taking it off or hearing it fall. “I took my Midol, I kept chugging water and peeing. I’m still sore, hot and cold…this sucks. What am I missing?!” You rub your palms on your thighs to try and take your mind off how uncomfortable you feel. The floor feels cool though, maybe you should lay on it. It is a beautiful dark hardwood floor, you can see your reflection in it. Your body has a sheen of moisture from your sweat. “Become one with the floor…” You whisper to yourself and then start feeling cold again from so much exposed skin. “My body hates me.”

“Honey Pot, you don’t look too good.” A voice that you’ve missed the last few days as he’s been out of town. Dieter stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee. You love your coffee with four creamers and sugars with some dashes of vanilla extract. “Do I need to call someone? You’re sweaty and you feel cool. That’s really weird.” He handed you the coffee and pecked your lips as you accepted it. His palm touched your forehead before traveling up to smooth down your hair which was sticking up. “You’re on the losing end of a fight huh?” You quickly finished the cup, warming your body from the inside out, then you were again overheated.

“You were so sweet with the coffee and you had to ruin it Dee. It’s one of my heavier days so it’s so much worse. My meds and usual positions aren’t working. It’s horrible. Fix me…” You whined, rather uncharacteristic for you as Dieter was used to you listening to his complaints. He sat next to you on the bed and put his arm around you, the fluffy fabric of his ever present gray robe tickled your neck. 

“Aww…my poor sweetheart. What do you need from me? Anything you want I can order?” He asked, you shook your head and sighed. Patting his thigh before intertwining your fingers with his.

“No. I finished the coffee. I think I should have my raspberry tea. That should help, and then play some music, maybe moving around will help instead of just rolling in the bed.”

“Raspberry I can do honey pot. I’ll go start it now!” Bravo jumped up excitedly and ran out of the room. You were surprised to see him that enthusiastic to make you tea. He always said you brewed it too strong. You placed your feet on the cool hardwood floor again and stood, letting the cold travel from your feet, your head flew back from some relief. Your body had once again decided to change temperatures on you.

“Oh god that feels good. I should have gotten up sooner.” You laughed at yourself for not hopping up sooner and walked toward the doorway that led to the living room. Music filled the room as Dieter had turned the Bluetooth speaker all the way up and was shaking his hips with his arms extending out. It looked like he may start doing some kicks any time. “Dieter, what are you doing? Did you make the tea?”

He continued to dance over to you and pulled you toward the center of the room, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you around in a circle to the rhythm. “I don’t know why you wanted to listen to ‘Raspberry Beret’ but it’s always fun to listen to Prince. Personally, I would have picked ‘I wanna be your lover’ to dance to.”

You stared at Dieter’s bright face as the two of you danced, his face with the same half grin and smirk he normally had. Your head rolls back as you erupt with laughter, forgetting for a bit that your uterus has chosen violence this week. “Another fun one is ‘I would die 4 U’ you know you can’t hit those high notes Dee.”

The two of you continue to swing around the living room to the jovial sounds of ‘Raspberry Beret’ the tea forgotten over the melody.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78