#MY POOR HEARTRATE

[geminiwritten]

emergency contact ; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fandom: top gun

pairing: bradley x reader

summary: rooster exploits having you as his emergency contact to get you away from hangman

notes: okay, i am so sorry if this is rushed but i had to get it out before i start my new job (and maybe won't have so much time to write)... i really hope y'all enjoy it!!! please let me know, i really love all kinds of feedback! (p.s. this is also super lame and cheesy but that’s just my genre now)

warnings: swearing, very poor us navy knowledge (i literally just do some very brief googling), very minor and probably inaccurate medical descriptions, text chat screenshots, use of y/n (which is a warning now?), and a kind of rushed ending

word count: 9129

“Damn.” You stop just before stepping into the sun, tipping your head forward so you can see over the frame of your sunglasses. “I should come here more often.”

Fighter jets line the tarmac in two neat rows, and in the middle under the shade of one of the jets are your friends, the dagger squad. They’re all on the ground, half of them in a sit up position and the other half doing push ups. All looking absolutely fine.

Maverick is talking to someone a little off to your right, but you’re more than happy to wait for him while you ogle the pilots performing their punishments. Hondo is standing over the seven of them, counting repetitions loudly and correcting their forms.

“Hey,” Maverick calls, his voice echoing into the hangar.

You turn to see him tuck his helmet under one arm as he walks quickly toward you. “Hey Mav.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I had a day off, so I thought I’d finally get my pre-enrolment sorted out for my DBIDS card.” You hold up the ID badge hanging on a lanyard around your neck. “You’re my sponsor, by the way.”

He frowns. “Aren’t I supposed to be escorting you, then?”

You hike your thumb over your shoulder toward where you’d entered the hangar. “Warlock vouched for me and said he’d get you to take me back to the VCC and sign everything then.”

Maverick glances passed you, giving a short wave to the rear admiral who had stopped to talk to a couple of other officers. “Well then, I better wrap this lot up,” he says. “Are you alright to wait a bit?”

You nod, letting your lips curl into a smirk as your eyes slide back over to the squad. “I am more than happy to wait.”

His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “They’ll start showing off if they know you’re here. Why don’t you come over and say hello?”

You push the bridge of your sunglasses further up your nose. “I would love to.”

Mav leads the way to the squad, into the sun and across the hot tarmac. It’s unusually warm today, and you can feel your skin start to perspire after only a few steps out from under the hangar’s shade. Or maybe you’re just starting to sweat because of the scene you’re approaching.

You’ve never seen the squad in their flight suits before. You’ve seen pictures and videos, but you’ve never seen them in person. On a hot day. Half unzipped and tied around their waists. As they drip with sweat.

Your eyes find Bradley’s head of tousled golden-brown locks immediately, and your heartrate ratchets up a few notches, your breath catching in your throat. He’s doing push ups, his dog tags touching the concrete on every dip and his back muscles rippling under the black material of his shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.

Your knees almost wobble when you stop beside Maverick, and Jake is the first to notice you as he comes up for his next sit up. “Hey gorgeous,” he calls out, that signature smirk plastered across his flushed face.

“Hey.” You let your eyes wander over the rest of the group before settling back on Bradley. Your sunglasses slide a little further down your nose and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard to try and distract yourself from the way Bradley’s biceps are bulging and straining.

When he glances up at you, your head spins. His face is flushed and his brows furrowed, but there’s still a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Hey sweetheart.”

“Eyes down, Rooster,” Hondo barks.

Bradley’s head snaps back down, but the next push up he does seems a little firmer and a little lower. Your mouth waters as you trace the outline of his broad shoulders, letting your gaze slide down his back to his butt, lingering there as his muscular body moves up and down.

“Phoenix, you’re done,” Hondo announces, startling you out of your trance.

Natasha lets out a whoosh of air as she finishes her sit ups and falls back against the concrete. She shields her eyes with one hand, squinting toward you and waving her other hand in the air.

You wave back just as Hondo announces, “Hangman, Coyote, you’re done.”

Javy falls back the same way Natasha had, his hands holding his abdomen as he works on catching his breath, but Jake doesn’t stop. He maintains perfect form as he sinks back and sits up, winking at you before lowering himself back again.

Natasha scoffs. “Show off.”

Maverick catches your eye and smirks before taking half a step forward. “What’s your goal here, Hangman? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No sir,” Jake replies, his expression full of steely focus. “Just trying to impress the lady and outlast these chumps.”

Mickey chuckles as he lowers himself into another push up. “Since when is Y/N a lady?”

“Hey!” you exclaim.

Laughter rolls through the squad, and even Hondo cracks a smile as he says, “Bob, you’re done.”

Bob finishes his sit ups with a sigh and wraps his arms around his knees, chuckling softly through his ragged breaths.

You look at Maverick, tipping your chin in Mickey’s direction. “Can I sit on him?”

Mav chuckles. “As much as I'd love to see that, not with Warlock standing twenty feet away.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, turning back to face the group.

“You can sit on me,” Jake says as he rises into another sit up. He lowers himself back with a shit-eating grin before sitting up again. “Later tonight.”

Javy, Mickey, and Reuben snicker as Natasha rolls her eyes, but Bradley stays silent. You can see little droplets of sweat soaking into the concrete below him, and your first thought is ‘what a waste’. Great, you’re officially creepy enough to want to drink his sweat.

“Alright,” Hondo says. “That’s enough, the lot of you.”

Mickey and Reuben groan as they sit back on their haunches and turn their heads up to the sky, breathing in the warm afternoon air, but Bradley keeps going.

“Rooster, Hangman, that’s enough,” Mav says, his voice stern despite the smirk on his lips.

“I can last as long as you can, Bradshaw,” Jake taunts.

Bradley lets out a harsh breath as he pushes himself up again. “That’s not what I’ve heard, Seresin.”

A chorus of ooh’s fills the air as the rest of the squad watch the two stubborn boys, eyes bouncing between them. You have to keep reminding yourself to look over at Jake, to not make it so obvious that half the reason you’re here is to drool over Bradley.

“Come on, boys,” Maverick sighs. “That’s enough.”

Neither of them let up, and Hondo chuckles to himself as he strolls into the hangar.

Maverick clears his throat. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin, that is enough.”

They both stop and quickly get to their feet, their faces red and glistening with sweat. You can’t help but wonder if that’s what Bradley would look like after a good few hours of sex. You definitely plan on finding out one day, if you can ever find the courage to make a move.

“No debrief this afternoon,” Maverick announces. “So, unless anyone has anyone questions, you’re all dismissed.”

Bob quickly pipes up with a question about one of the exercises they performed earlier in the day, but you can barely hear the discussion between him and Maverick. Your eyes are all over Bradley, because seeing him in his flight suit is doing something to you, something more than usual. He’s standing wide, those big black boots planted further than shoulder-width apart, making his legs look even longer and more powerful than usual. His arms are crossed, his biceps straining against the black fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt. It’s clinging to every inch of his muscled torso, tucked into the flight suit that is tied around his waist. The gold in his hair is shining beneath the hot sun, his tan skin is glowing with sweat, and his slutty sunglasses are perched a little too low on his nose. This man is walking sex, and it’s becoming a health hazard because you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

A voice suddenly breaks through your Bradley-induced trance. “Is that okay?”

You blink a couple of times, refocusing on Maverick who is now standing between you and the squad with his eyebrows raised in question. “Is what okay?”

He rolls his eyes, lips quirked into a small but knowing smirk. “I’m just going to have a quick shower before taking you back to the VCC. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” He claps a hand on your shoulder. “You go ahead and get back to that daydream. By the look on your face, it was getting good.”

You scowl at him as he chuckles and walks away, heading in the same direction that Reuben and Mickey are walking. The rest of the squad are still standing in front of you, chatting about something that you assume came up from Bob’s earlier query.

Jake breaks away from the group, stepping toward you with a wide grin. “What brings you out here, gorgeous?”

“Getting my pre-enrolment sorted out,” you reply.

“For a DBIDS card?”

You nod.

“Why do you need to be able to visit unchaperoned?” he asks, that usual cocky glint making his green eyes sparkle. “I’ll gladly be your chaperone whenever you want to visit.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “As much as I would love to be personally escorted by you, Hangman, I thought it would be smart in case I ever need to enact my emergency contact duties.”

He frowns. “Who’s emergency contact are you?”

“That would be me,” Bradley says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling so wide as you look up at him, but you know your bright red cheeks are already giving you away.

“I thought your emergency contact was Mav?” Jake asks.

“He was,” Bradley replies. “But then I thought that if I’m ever in an emergency situation, there’s probably a good chance that Mav is in that situation with me.”

Jake nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” A beat of silence passes before he turns his attention back to you, that flirty smirk reappearing as he claps his hands together. “Anyway, are we all set for tomorrow?”

“Yep,” you respond. “Are you still sure you want to spend your day off helping me?”

“Of course. Any day with you is a day well spent, whether it involves manual labour or not.”

You asked Jake a few weeks ago to help with the delivery and assembly of your new bedframe and mattress and getting rid of your old stuff, since the last time you did it on your own you nearly ended up in the hospital with a slipped disc. Normally, you would ask Bradley for help with this kind of thing, but your crush has been so stifling the last couple of months that you know it would be counterproductive to have Bradley sweating and moving heavy things in your bedroom. Besides, Jake happens to have the day off because he’s owed an RDO, and he insists that he doesn’t mind helping you out. It’s a win-win situation; you get a new bed, and no one ends up in the hospital with a broken back. Not that you would mind if Bradley broke your back.

“What’s tomorrow?” Bradley asks, his brows pinched into a frown.

“I’m helping her in bed,” Jake replies quickly, his grin downright evil. “I mean, with her bed.”

You roll your eyes at Jake again, before looking up at Bradley. “I’m getting a new bedframe and mattress, remember?”

“Right,” he says, brows still furrowed. “I thought I told you I’d help you with that?”

The way he’s looking down at you is making the butterflies in your stomach riot. He looks like a scolded puppy, wondering what he did wrong to deserve this punishment.

“You did, but Jake has the day off and you’ve already done enough slave labour for me.”

“But I like being your slave,” he says, the corner of his lips tipping up slightly.

It takes all your strength not to groan out loud. He is not making this easy.

“And you will always be my favourite slave, Bradley.” You pat a hand on his chest. “Which is why I need to give you a break every now and then.”

You pull your hand away quickly, immediately regretting the fact that you just felt up his firm chest and damp shirt, because now you’re getting that familiar ache behind your hipbones. The ache that only your vibrator and fantasies of Bradley can satiate, but even that hasn’t been enough lately. You need the real thing.

The sound of your name echoing through the hangar draws your attention, and you look over your shoulder to see Maverick with spikey, wet hair waving you toward him.

“That’s my cue.” You turn back to Jake. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and you”- you look up at Bradley -“on the weekend.”

When you slide out from under Bradley’s arm, it suddenly feels like this very hot day has turned cold. It takes all your strength to keep your feet moving one after the other away from him. You’ve had a crush on Bradley Bradshaw from the moment you first met him, but it’s called a ‘crush’ for a reason, because now it is crushing you. He’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last name on your lips before you fall asleep.

“Are you alright?” Maverick asks once you reach him, and you know it’s because your cheeks are bright red.

“Yeah, just a bit hot out here.”

He nods as you both start walking toward the door. “It’s supposed to be even hotter tomorrow.”

Back at the Visitor Control Centre, Maverick signs everything he needs to in order to grant you unchaperoned access to the base. After that, he walks you to your car and bids you farewell. You’re more than grateful for your car’s aircon as you take a moment to collect your thoughts, the ones that are running wild with fantasies about Bradley in that damn flight suit.

Eventually, you make your way home and immediately hole yourself up in your room. You spend over an hour in there to trying to satisfy that ache below your belly, but the incessant messages from the group chat popping up on your phone screen make it difficult. Only when your stomach starts to grumble do you give up and head into the kitchen, reading through the messages you’d been trying to ignore.

You hit send on your last message and smack your phone face down on the kitchen counter. Your cheeks are red and your heart is racing, and you’re not hungry anymore because your stomach has twisted itself into one big nervous knot.

You know that whatever it is between you and Bradley is no secret. You assume it’s because you drunkenly confessed to Bob, Mickey, and Natasha one night that you had a huge crush on him, and since then the rest have seemingly caught on. You don’t mind the teasing – at least, you didn’t at first, but it’s becoming more frequent and making you more nervous. Bradley rarely interacts with it, and all you do is tell them to shut up or butt out. You can’t figure out if they’re simply teasing because they can, or if they actually see something between the two of you that is real.

There have been a couple of times when you’ve wondered if Bradley might feel the same way. You even almost made a move once, before chickening out and refusing to look him in the eye for two weeks straight. You know you’re being a little bitch about it, and you hate yourself every day for being like one of those characters in your romance books that pines and pines, despite their broody love interest being obviously smitten. But you still can’t stop yourself from being a chicken. You justify it by telling yourself that it's to protect your friendship and the group’s comfortable dynamic, but you know that deep down, you’re scared. You’re scared that Bradley only wants that one thing, while you’re nothing short of hopelessly in love with the man.

-

You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your bedside table. You know it’s too early for your alarm and way too early for the delivery driver to be calling you, so you’re not surprised when you see Jake’s goofy contact photo lighting up your phone screen.

“Good morning, Hangman,” you say groggily.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he replies cheerfully. “Did I wake you up?”

You sigh and roll onto your back. “Yes.”

He chuckles. “Oops. How’s about I make it up to you with breakfast?”

You sit up quickly. “You’re already on your way here?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, throwing your bed covers back.

“Just the usual?” he asks.

“Make it a double shot.”

You toss your phone onto your bed before hurrying into your ensuite, quickly stripping down as the shower heats up. You brush your teeth in the shower and scrub everything as quickly as you can before wrapping yourself in a towel and starting to pull all the bedding off your mattress. Just as you’ve finished shoving it all into your already overflowing hamper, your apartment intercom buzzes.

You hitch your towel higher as you step out of your room and press the button on the intercom to unlock the lobby door. There’s an affirmative beep and a click, and then you walk toward the front door and double check that your towel is covering you.

As soon as you hear footsteps, you pull the door open with a scowl. “Since when did I tell you to get here at the ass crack of dawn?”

His green eyes widen as he takes you in, that signature smirk painting his features. “I thought it would be good to get an early start, but this”- he nods at you -“is an unexpected bonus.”

You roll your eyes and step aside, allowing him in. He stops at your kitchen bench and places the cup tray of two coffees down alongside a paper bag filled with deliciously greasy smelling breakfast.

“Give me five minutes,” you say, before walking back into your bedroom.

You quickly change into a pair of exercise tights and an oversized shirt – one that you’re not sure even belongs to you – before fixing your hair and doing a very quick version of your morning skincare routine. When you reemerge into the main area of your open-plan apartment, Jake is seated on the lounge with your breakfast laid out across the coffee table.

You flop beside him and take a hashbrown. “So, what’s the plan?”

He turns to you with a frown. “Why do I have to come up with a plan?”

“I wouldn’t need your help if I had a plan, would I?”

He chuckles softly. “I guess not.”

You spend the next five minutes inhaling your breakfast while Jake asks a few logistical questions. Once you're both finished eating and quietly sipping on your coffees, he pushes himself off the lounge and walks toward your bedroom.

He pauses at the door. “Can I go in?”

You nod, and the door squeaks as he nudges it open. He takes one step in and stops, cocking his head thoughtfully before continuing in. He assesses the area and walks further in, at which point you decide to join him. He’s standing on the opposite side of your bed when you get there, and he’s wearing the type of shit-eating grin that you know comes with some sort of teasing or offensive remark.

“So,” he says, “this is where you touch yourself and fantasise about Rooster every night.”

Your stomach drops and you splutter against the lid of your coffee cup, spraying half a mouthful of it across the room. You can feel your face turning red as you cough, but you know it isn’t just the lack of oxygen to blame.

Jake gasps, laughter bubbling from his lips as he rushes around the bed to you. “I’m so sorry,” he says between giggles. “Are you okay?”

You continue to cough, holding a hand against your chest as you try to blink back the tears in your eyes. It takes almost a minute for you to compose yourself, but Jake takes even longer to quell his laughter.

He sighs loudly and wipes the corner of his eye while you turn to him with a scowl. “Who told you?”

He bats his eyes innocently. “Told me what?”

You hesitate, your eyes narrowed as your mind races to send the right words to your lips. “That I might have a small crush on Rooster.”

He snorts a laugh. “No one had to tell me anything. Any idiot who spends enough time with the two of you can clearly see that you’re obsessed with each other.”

“What? No.” Your frown indignantly. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes, still chuckling. “I can practically see you cataloguing your spank bank every time you stare at him.”

Your eyes grow wide and your skin burns. You have to look away from him to stop yourself from smacking that smug smile right off his face.

“You know what,” you say, sparing him only a glance. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation with you, so can we please get back to the bed.”

He sighs wistfully. “If only Rooster heard you say that to me. He’d be ropable.”

You roll your eyes and take another sip from your coffee, ready to turn away from him when realisation hits you. “Wait. Is that why you’re always flirting with me, just to piss off Bradley?”

He shrugs, but his smile is sheepish. “I flirt with you because you’re gorgeous, but annoying Rooster is a small plus.”

“You are unbelievable.” You turn on your heel and walk back out of your room, finding your phone on the couch to check if there are any updates on the delivery of your new furniture.

“Hang on a minute.” He follows you into the living space. “I could help you, you know?”

You scoff. “With what? Moving my new bed in? Because that is why you’re here. Not to make me feel shitty about some stupid, unrequited crush that is apparently pretty fucking obvious.”

He rolls his lips to hold back another laugh. “I could help you make a move,” he clarifies. “Because I’ll tell you this, it is not unrequited. Rooster is as crazy about you, as you are him.”

Your heart stutters, but your walls stay up. “How do you know?”

“Just believe me,” he says. “That man’s right forearm is thicker than his left because of you.”

You frown and cock your head, processing his words until the meaning hits you and your mouth pops open.

“Anyway.” He claps his hands and rubs his palms together. “Let’s get this old mattress out of here and start pulling apart the bedframe. I’ll give you some advice while we work.”

For the next few hours, you let Jake tell you what to do. You hold things, you move furniture, you unscrew things, and you listen to his surprisingly sound advice on what to do about Bradley. The more he speaks, the more confident you feel, because something about Jake’s charisma is infectious. You know you might not feel the same when face to face with Bradley’s big brown eyes and pretty smile, but it at least feels good to talk to someone about it. Even if that someone gags every time you start swooning.

- Bradley -

Today is hot, almost too hot. Bradley has pushed his body to the limit before, it’s basically in his job description, but today feels different. He feels sick. His flight suit is too heavy and his muscles are shaking. His stomach is twisting and gurgling with every sharp move, and his head is spinning.

Bradley is only in the sky – flying like a rookie – for an hour before Maverick grounds him, giving him a brutal workout to do while the rest of the squad finish their drills. Even Hondo has taken shelter in the hangar, watching Bradley complete his exercises from afar with a damp towel wrapped around the back of his neck.

The concrete is hot, and Bradley is pretty sure he’s getting second-degree burns on his palms as he pushes himself up into his twenty-fourth burpee. His flight suit is tied around his waist, and he can feel an excess of sweat gathering in the bunched-up material there. His dog tags are jingling as he jumps up and down, occasionally smacking him in the face when his moves are too jerky.

“That’s enough,” Hondo calls out. “Have a break. Drink some water.”

Bradley stops and swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. He can see the squad getting ready to land now, so it must be time for lunch. He waits for them inside the hangar, his heart beating loudly in his chest even after twenty minutes of standing still. Eventually, the group stroll in and head toward the lockers, grabbing their personal items before going to the mess hall.

Bradley finds a seat while everyone else continues to get food. He’s not sure his stomach can handle anything right now, even his water bottle remains untouched. He pulls his phone out and brings up the group chat that has five new messages.

His insides twist at the sight of Jake in your apartment. It’s not like he hasn’t been there before, but he’s never been there alone with you. Bradley clamps his teeth together and wills that sick feeling in his gut to fuck off. This isn’t the time nor the place to vomit about the fact that the girl he likes is spending the day with one of the most charming men he knows.

“You look pale,” Bob says as he puts his tray down on the table.

“But also kind of red,” Natasha adds, a frown pinching her brows. “You look like you’re trying not to hurl.”

Bradley swallows hard and sits up straighter. “I’m fine, just a little wrung out from the heat.”

The rest of the squad join the table and conversation flows easily. A couple of them reply to you in the group chat, but Bradley doesn’t want to know anything else about what’s going on, so he lets his phone buzz face down on the table. He stares straight ahead at the space between Bob and Natasha’s heads, zoning out and imagining a much worse scenario than what is actually happening at your apartment.

He pictures you both sweating and giggling together, bumping into each other as you move and assemble furniture. Then he sees you both on the new mattress, flopping down exhaustedly after finally sliding it onto the new bedframe. You’d stop giggling with a sigh before turning to face one another, locking eyes, expressions turning serious as Jake’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. You would roll onto your side to get closer to him, and he’d only have to move an inch toward you to press his lips against yours. That kiss would unlock something in you, igniting your attraction to this man and making you climb on top of him. Clothes would be torn off, teeth and tongues clashing, and the bed would quickly be broken in.

“Rooster.” Natasha snaps her fingers in front of Bradley’s face.

He blinks a couple of times before refocusing on the woman in front of him. “Huh?”

“Jesus Christ, dude,” she says. “What is wrong with you today?”

Bradley looks to his left and right before spotting the rest of the squad making their way out of the mess hall. He jumps up from his chair. “Shit, that went quick.”

“Well, you were off with the fairies the whole time.”

He tries not to look her in the eye despite her intense stare. The journey back to the hangar is silent, but he can tell Natasha is studying him, scrutinising his expression until they both approach the rest of the group waiting with Maverick.

Mav takes the floor and announces that today is the perfect day to test limits. He starts explaining the workout that he has planned for the squad, because they may have to face extreme heat on their next assignment, and it’s important to be prepared. Everyone groans in protest, even Hondo, but Mav ignores it. He’s almost excited to torture his lieutenants.

An hour later, everyone is absolutely dripping with sweat. All flight suits are at least half off, some discarded entirely as the squad run, jump, and swerve through the makeshift fitness course Mav set up. It feels more like torture than conditioning, but no one has the energy to even speak up.

“Alright,” Mav calls out. “That’s enough. Take a break, have some water, then come inside and take a seat.”

They all slowly drag themselves toward Hondo, who is handing out towels and cold bottles of water. None of them can muster a single word, they all just huff and puff and groan when they wipe their skin with the wet towels. Bradley is the last to approach Hondo, his gaze fixed on the outstretched water bottle as he wonders when the last time it was that he had a drink.

“Rooster.” Hondo takes a step toward the lieutenant. “Are you alright?”

Bradley blinks slowly, looking up as one Hondo turns into two. His surroundings blur and his limbs start to tingle. His head feels heavy and his stomach sinks, his eyes fluttering shut as his body goes limp.

- You -

“Harder,” Jake grunts. “Push harder.”

You let out a puff of air before tensing your muscles and shoving as hard as you can. The mattress slides along the carpet slowly, making your blood boil with frustration. “Why is this thing so fucking heavy?”

Jake chuckles. “I just assumed you bought an extra sturdy one so you and Rooster can fuck as hard as- woah!”

You push with all your strength, sliding the mattress into an unsuspecting Jake. He laughs as he rights himself and guides the mattress further into your room.

“If I knew that annoying you would give you super strength, I would have started earlier,” he says, leaning around the mattress to show you his cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes. “You’ve been annoying me all day.”

“It’s called bonding.”

“Whatever, just get this thing on the frame.”

After a short argument on how you should manoeuvre the mattress, and a string of cuss words as you heave the thing into place, you finally manage to get the mattress sitting snuggly on the new bedframe. You both fall onto it immediately, facing the ceiling as you work to catch your breath.

“Fuck me,” you sigh.

Jake snorts. “I would, but I think Rooster might flay me alive.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time today. “I wasn’t offering, and I’m still on the fence about believing you, so stop it with the constant remarks.”

He rolls onto his stomach, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Then let’s have sex and see what happens?”

You huff out a half-assed laugh as you sit up. “Like I said, Hangman; I wasn’t offering.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We shouldn’t play with Rooster’s feelings like that.” He rolls onto his back again and blinks slowly at the ceiling.

It makes you feel better to see a small sign of exhaustion from him, because for most of the day, you’ve been wrecked while Jake has been running off some sort of endless energy reserve. He’s like the human personification of a border collie, a little too keen and full of bounce, and you can definitely see him tearing the lounge apart if he’s bored and locked inside.

You open your mouth to tell him how he reminds you of a herding dog when the sound of your phone’s ringtone cuts you off. You frown, wondering who it could be as you rush out of your room to get it off the kitchen bench.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Mariam. I’m calling from the Primary Health Clinic on North Island Naval Air Station. I need to speak with about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

Your stomach sinks so fast and so hard, you feel like it might have fallen right out of your arse. “Is he okay?”

“He’s in our care this afternoon due to a minor incident, and while he’s doing just fine, we cannot permit him to drive himself home. Would you be able to come pick him up?”

You rush over to the coffee table and pick up your car keys. “Of course.”

“That’s great,” the woman replies, her tone calm and even. “I’ll text our address to this number. Do you require any further assistance locating the clinic?”

“No, that should be fine.” You prop your sunglasses on top of your head. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. We’ll see you soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear as you hurry back into your room. Jake is sitting up now, his brows furrowed and eyes wide with curiosity. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something happened to Bradley and now he’s at some health clinic or something.” You’re not surprised by the panic in your voice, if only a little embarrassed. The woman said he’s fine. The last thing you need to do right now is panic.

Jake stands up and rounds the bed quickly, putting a hand on each of your shoulders. “Don’t freak out, I’m sure he’s okay. He’s at the clinic, not the hospital, so he’s probably just tripped on his own shoelaces or something.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you search Jake’s face for any hint of worry. He doesn’t seem concerned, so you let yourself relax and picture Bradley sitting sheepishly in a hospital bed with nothing more than a papercut.

“They said he can’t drive, so I have to go pick him up.”

Jake nods. “You go. I’ll stay here and clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go get your damsel in distress.”

You hesitate for a second before throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “Thank you.”

He hugs you back with a chuckle before you pull away and practically run out of your apartment. You don’t slow down for anything; you even take the stairs instead of the elevator because you can’t stand still for even a second. You try not to drive like a maniac, but it’s hard not to as your mind swirls with the possibilities of Bradley’s accident.

In less than fifteen minutes, you’re flashing your identification at the front gate and waiting impatiently for them to raise the boom gate. You swerve into the visitor’s parking lot and jump out of your car, legging it toward the health clinic where your phone’s map tells you to go. It only takes a few minutes for you to get there, and you stop a few feet from the door, taking a moment to control your breathing.

The air is thick and the sun blistering. You’re sweating more than you have all day, since you've spent most of the day inside your airconditioned apartment. If Bradley isn’t really hurt, you’re going to actually hurt him for making you worry this much and run in this heat.

Once your breathing feels more regular, you grab the stainless-steel handle and push the door open. The small reception space is painted blue and white, with a couple of plastic chairs on one side and a magazine rack beside a water bubbler on the other. The blonde woman behind the desk peeks up at you through the Perspex shield surrounding her space.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hi.” You step forward. “I got a call about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

To the right of her desk is a hallway leading further into the building. Voices and footsteps echo off the blue walls, and despite the desolate reception area, it seems like the rest of the clinic is rather busy.

“Yes, that was me.” She smiles. “I’ll just get you to fill this out so we can start his discharge, then I’ll take you through.”

You take the clipboard from her and sit in one of the plastic chairs. You barely read the form, skimming quickly over it before answering the few questions and signing your name at the bottom. After you hand it back it to her, you walk over to the water bubbler and fill up a small plastic cup. You drain it three times before she waves you over and starts walking down the hall.

The noises get louder the further you delve into the building, and you quickly realise that this place is something of a mini hospital for minor emergencies to help keep the actual ER from being overrun. The hallway eventually opens up into a larger waiting area with lemon-coloured walls and bigger chairs occupied by sickly officers. One of them is holding a bloody gauze pressed to the palm of his hand, and two others are paper white and dripping with sweat.

“Heatstroke,” the blonde woman says over her shoulder. “We’ve had so many of them today, but your husband was by far the worst.”

You choke on your breath and trip on nothing as you follow her. “M-My what?”

“Oh, sorry.” She turns to her left at the end of the hall. “I just saw you were listed as Lieutenant Bradshaw’s ‘partner’ and assumed. It’s force of habit. I forget that a lot of couples don’t bother with marriage these days.”

Your mind struggles to catch up, half of it rejoicing about the fact that someone thinks Bradley is your husband, and the other half wondering why the fuck he would list you as his partner. Before you can come up with the words to correct the woman, she stops.

“Just in here.” She pushes the door open a small way. “I’ll get his papers sorted and let you know as soon as he can leave.”

You nod, still speechless, and she walks away. You stand still for a moment, your hand on the door and heart racing as you take one deep breath and push.

The room is small, with powder blue walls and the same white linoleum as the rest of the clinic. There’s a stool and tall portable desk in one corner, and one of those plastic waiting room chairs in the other. In the middle of the room is a hospital bed, but there’s no guard rails or bedding, and it's folded up so the sheepish lieutenant occupying it is sitting up straight.

“Hey,” you say, your lips twitching as you hold back a smirk.

He’s hooked up to an intravenous device that has a long tube connected to a bag of clear liquid. His face is flushed and the hair at his neck damp, but otherwise, he looks just as delicious as usual.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

You close the door behind you before approaching the bed. “How are you?”

He shuffles on the crinkly mattress, making room for you to sit. “Never been better.”

"Want to tell me what happened?” you ask as you sit at the foot of the bed.

He rubs the back of his neck, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Well, it’s hot day, and I forgot to drink water, so I passed out.”

You lose the battle with your maturity and let out a soft laugh. Something about Bradley looking so defeated in a hospital bed amuses you more than it should. That combined with the relief that he isn’t seriously hurt means that you can’t control the elated laughter forcing its way through your lips.

You cover your mouth to try and stop the noise. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I was just really worried and now I’m really relieved.”

He rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad my stupidity amuses you.”

“Do the others have a video of you fainting?”

He nudges your thigh with his socked foot. “Even if they do, you’re not seeing it.”

You laugh quietly for another minute, letting your eyes roam is perfectly healthy and incredibly firm body until it sinks in that he is okay. “I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt.”

“Me too. That would have been embarrassing.”

Your mouth pops open to ask him another question, but the thought is quickly usurped by another. The front reception area had been completely empty despite the fact that there are other patients here. You’re the only civilian here, the only emergency contact for an injured officer, and the injured officer in front of you is looking a hell of a lot better than some of the others you’d walked past.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Did you ask them to call your emergency contact?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, where are the others?” you ask. “Why don’t the guys out there have their parents or partners here to pick them up?”

He shrugs. “They’re probably going to get patched up and sent back to their squads.”

“Exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. “So, why am I here?”

He shifts nervously, the mattress crinkling beneath his weight. “They said I can’t drive myself home.”

“And you didn’t think to ask one of the other six friends you have that are already on base to drive you home?”

His lips part but no words come out. You can see him struggling, wracking his brain for any sort of excuse, but the longer it takes, the surer you are of the answer to your next question.

“Bradley.”

He looks at you and rolls his lips, his skin turning pink from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Did you tell them to call me so I wouldn’t be alone with Hangman anymore?”

His eyes widen and his mouth pops open, but so does the door to the room. The same blonde woman as before walks in with a nurse close behind.

“Alright, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she says, clipboard in hand. “You’re just about free to go.”

You quickly hop off the bed as the nurse approaches, pressing yourself against the wall while she removes Bradley’s IV and check his temperature one last time. She gives him what you assume is not the first lecture about staying safe in the heat before declaring him well enough for discharge. The blonde woman then steps forward and asks him to sign a few forms on her clipboard.

“Is that everything?” he asks.

“Almost.” She takes the clipboard from him and flips to the last form before turning to you. “I just need one more signature from you.”

You nod and take the outstretched pen. “Just here?”

“Yep. Just under your name,” she says, before giggling.

You pause mid-signature, turning to her curiously. Her smile vanishes instantly, and she takes half a step back, holding a hand over her mouth, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That was so unprofessional,” she says. “It’s been a long day, and I just remembered that when he was brought in, he kept mumbling your name. I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise. I honestly thought it was really sweet.”

Bradley – who is now sitting on the edge of the bed – groans and drops his head into his hands. You have to press your lips together to suppress your laughter, but you can already feel it rattling in your chest. You sign your name quickly and hand the forms back to the woman, who apologises again before exiting the room.

Silence hangs thick and heavy between the two of you as Bradley laces his boots. You don’t speak, you’re not sure you can, so you simply watch him gather his things from across the room. When he’s finished, he finally looks at you with raised brows and flushed cheeks.

“Ready?”

You nod once, pressing your lips together to keep the giggles at bay. He turns toward the door, and you can swear you see his lips tip up into a smirk, but he walks too quickly into the corridor for you to be sure.

You follow him through the building, not the same way you had come in, but out through a different entrance that you assume is for bringing in the injured officers. The heat hits you the second you step out of the building, and you almost choke on the hot air, but you don’t have time to hesitate because Bradley is already forging across the small parking lot.

He glances over his shoulder, but his eyes don’t quite meet yours. “Where did you park?”

“The visitor’s parking near the front gate,” you reply.

He slows his steps and falls into pace beside you. His mouth pops open as a thought flashes across his face, but he closes it just as quickly, rolling his lips and getting lost in his thoughts again.

You decide to help him out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He clears his throat, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, Bradley,” you sigh, a smirk on your lips. “There are so many things to talk about, but I thought I’d be polite and let you choose.”

His resolve cracks and a smile splits across his face. His cheeks are still bright red, and thanks to the blistering sun, every inch of his exposed skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t help but watch the column of his throat as he chuckles, his Adam’s apple moving in the most delicious way. It’s probably not healthy how attracted you are to this man.

“I’d barely been awake for five minutes when they asked me who they should call,” he says. “I was still a little out of it.”

“Right.” You nod slowly. “And because you’d just been dreaming about me, I was the first thing that popped into your head.”

He sighs and tips his head back, squinting up at the clear blue sky. “This has to be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

You bite your lip to hold back more laughter, almost stumbling as you come to a halt at the curb. Instinctively, Bradley grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, keeping you steady as he checks the street each way for traffic. Little sparks of lightning rocket up your forearm and across your chest, zapping your heart and kicking it into overdrive.

You let him guide you across the street, expecting him to let go once you’re safely on the other side, but he doesn’t. The butterflies in your stomach flap to life, but you refuse to let your nerves get the better of you. You have too many questions you need answered right now.

You clear your throat, peaking up at him from the corner of your eye. “So, just so we’re clear, calling me had nothing to do with getting me away from Hangman?”

He keeps his gaze fixed ahead. “Of course not.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

You resist the urge to smile as you wait for him to take the bait. It takes a few minutes, and you’ve reached your car by the time you notice his brows scrunch into a frown.

“Wait, what do you mean that’s good?”

You walk around the front of the car toward the driver’s side. “I don’t know, I just felt different today. You know? Like, being alone with Jake was nice.”

His frown turns into a scowl. “It’s Jake now?”

You roll your eyes, being careful not to appear too amused as you play with fire. “Yes, and Jake is really sweet. He’s funny too, and really smart and… well, he’s hot.”

Bradley takes half a step back from the passenger door. “So, you like Hangman now?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

His eyes flick down to his boots, his mouth popping open as if he’s going to argue, but no words come out. His lips clamp shut and the muscles in his jaw jump as he clenches his teeth.

“Do you have a problem with that?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

When he looks back up, his glare is lethal. The warm honey-brown eyes you often love to stare into are almost completely black beneath his furrowed brows. “Do I have a problem with that?”

You roll your lips and nod, keeping your eyes as wide and innocent as you can while watching him take long strides around the front of the car. Your heart thunders in your chest, making your pulse thump loudly in your ears as he walks right up to you.

He towers over you, his body barely inches from yours. “You know damn well I have a problem with that.”

You look up at him through your lashes, finally letting your lips curl up into a smirk. “Why?”

His hands grab your hips and turn your body so your backside is pressed against the driver’s side door. “You know damn well why.” He presses his body against yours and moves his hands to lean on the car either side of your shoulders, trapping you.

Your head spins and you struggle to breath, overwhelmed by every inch of him that is pressed against you. “Why?” you ask again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He groans and pushes his hips harder into yours before leaning down and catching your lips with his. Your hands grip the sides of his shirt and pull, as if he isn’t already crushing himself against you. When you feel him slide a leg between yours, you gasp, and he takes the chance to push his tongue past your parted lips. You grind down on his thigh and a let out a soft whimper. You can feel him grin against your mouth before lifting his knee a little higher between your legs.

The rest of the world melts away as you grind and moan against each other, completely lost in the feelings you’ve stamped down for so long. Only when you feel your car door begin to bend behind you do you reluctantly put a hand on his chest and push him back.

He frowns as he steps back, looking adorable with lust-blown eyes and puffy red lips. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re about to put a me-sized dent in my car door,” you reply with a soft laugh.

“Oh.” His shoulders relax and he steps back toward you, his hands landing on your hips. “So, you were joking about Hangman, right?”

You roll your eyes, resting your hands on his chest. “Obviously.”

“Good.”

You give him a small smile before letting your eyes drop, panic seeping into your bones as your usual doubts begin to infect your thoughts. Did he only kiss you because he was jealous? Does he want more than friendship, or just a few extra benefits?

“Hey.” He crooks a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head up. “Do you want to know why I’d have a problem if you really did like Hangman?”

You nod as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down nervously.

“Because then it would’ve been too late for me to tell you that I’m in love you.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “In love with me?”

His cheeks go from pink to red and he quickly averts his eyes away from yours. “Unless you don’t feel the same, then I’m just in love with you like a friend.”

You roll your eyes again and softly smack his chest. “Don’t be stupid, of course I’m in love with you. I thought it was pretty fucking obvious.”

His lips split into a grin before he dips back down and kisses you again. “Thank God for that,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle as he trails his lips across your cheek, along your jaw, and down your neck. “As much as I love this,” you say, “I would also really love to get out of the heat.”

“Good idea.” He steps back and pulls your body with his, turning a little to the side as leans toward the car and pulls the driver’s door open. “Let’s get back to your apartment and test out that new bed.”

Your knees almost wobble as you step toward the car and drop into the driver’s seat. Bradley is around the car in less than a few seconds, climbing into the passenger’s side and reaching one hand across the centre console to grab your leg.

“Let’s just hope Hangman hasn’t decided to take a nap,” you say as you begin pulling out of the parking spot.

Bradley turns to you with raised brows. “He’s still at your apartment?”

You nod. “He offered to clean up when I left.”

“What if he refuses to leave?”

You shrug one shoulder, your lips tipping up into a smirk. “Then he can join in.”

Bradley’s fingers squeeze hard around your thigh. “Not a fucking chance.”

You giggle when you glance at his stormy expression, but you’d be lying if you said his jealousy wasn’t a bit of a turn on. “You’re not into wife-swapping?” you ask.

He tilts his head, clearly confused. “Wife?”

“Well, yeah. I’m your partner, right? Your emergency contact partner.”

It takes him a few seconds to realise what you mean, but once he does, he drops his head into both hands and sighs loudly. “They told you that?”

You almost feel bad for laughing at him again, but you can’t help it. “The woman called you my husband when I first got there.”

When he looks back up, you’re positive you’ve never seen a more gorgeous boy in the world. His cheeks are bright pink, his honey-brown eyes are sparkling, and he’s grinning so wide you can’t help but grin back at him. “Well, they didn’t really have an option for ‘best friend who I really want to bang and eventually marry one day’.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re pretty sure your heart stops. “Marry?”

He turns his attention out the windscreen, still smiling, and his hand returns to its place on your thigh as he says more to himself than you, “One day soon hopefully.”

END.

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ☃️ speeding hearts / zayne x reader

synopsis; you have a crush on your charming physician, and it looks like you can't hide it as well as you thought.

🍎 pomme's notes - this is my first time writing for zayne (or writing in a while), so hopefully this is not too OOC or strange!! i've got more experience writing academic papers, but i'll improve as i keep writing!!

⋆ 800 words / pure fluff / reader is gender neutral / 2nd person

"any noticeable changes since your last visit?"

you're back at the hospital after a week — some heart issues following an encounter with wanderers, nothing too serious. it would've gone unknown had it not been for that stupid hunter's watch of yours, your heart rate rose up so much, the association couldn't risk ignoring it and letting one of their elite hunters face health issues. one mandatory meeting with jenna, 3 weeks of PTO, and here you were, faced with zayne, his eyes showing concern and something else. but that might just be you. right..?

"all good, doctor zayne! i've been feeling healthier than ever", you smiled nervously.

this was stupid. you were fine, of course you were, but the sight of zayne worrying about you sent your heart into overdrive, and that seemed riskier than the wanderer encounter. stupid stupid crush. he was just so sweet, and although your text messages contained a whole lot of his nagging, you couldn't help but feel awe at his care.

was he like this with all of his patients? surely he was. despite his cold and aloof vibe, you know him. he's always put others before himself, and he probably cared about all of his patients all the same. but god, that couldn't stop your poor little heart from thrumming every time he opened his mouth to ask questions about your health. and you answered, half distracted, because how could you focus entirely on his questions about your health, when you had such a nice sight in front of you?

his pretty hazel eyes, which scanned you in search of any anomalies regarding your health.

his neatly styled hair, which you'd kill to run your fingers through.

his lips looked so soft. did he use lip balm? how would they feel on yours?

you were staring, and you knew that. get it together!! he's busy, and he probably wants to get this over with and check on his other patients. you should be a good patient and stop ogling at your physician.

"Y/N?"

"oh- yes? so sorry, i zoned out."

he hummed, eyebrows raising slightly.

"i was just letting you know i'll be checking your heartrate. the stethoscope might feel a bit cold, alright?"

as he leaned in slightly, his hand ever so steady, your brain was going hundreds of miles per hour. he's so close. his cologne smells so good.

"does your chest feel uncomfortable? your heart's been thrumming at an alarming rate."

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck stupid stupid crush and stupid stupid stupid heart that told on you. you could feel the heat rising to your face and your cheeks getting increasingly more and more red and all you could do was laugh nervously.

"i-", you choke a bit, "i'm okay! no discomfort!! all good here!!!"

zayne frowns, clearly dissatisfied with your answer. he inhales and shakes his head a bit before speaking again.

"i'm your doctor. you don't need to hide if you feel discomfort, your face is growing more and more flush too. i'll order some more tests so we can figure this ou-"

"zayne." you interrupt him, and before you can stop yourself, your thoughts come out like a waterfall, cascading from your mouth.

"i'm fine, i promise it's just — you're just — i'm nervous. i don't have a fever, and i don't have tachycardia or whatever it is you're thinking about it's just-"

"just?"

"you're just — you're attractive!! i can't help my heart beating fast when you're looking at me like that, and i know it's stupid but i can't help it and i know that you care about all your patients the same and i'm-"

words suddenly stop coming out when you feel his cold hand over yours. you're breathing hard, only now realizing what you said, and you can feel your face turning from rosy to vermillion. now you've done it.

you lift your head slowly, to look at his face. please, please, make it so he's not weirded out, you pray silently. and when you finally make contact with his hazel eyes, you see him looking at you, oh so earnestly, his ears growing redder by the minute.

"i don't.. care about my patients all the same. i don't text my patients to nag them about their health and habits, you know."

you open your mouth, trying to say something but he speaks first.

"i'm going to finish your health report, and we can talk over dinner later. and you can tell me all about how i'm looking at you and how attractive i am and we can.. call it a first date. deal?"

his eyes soften, and he runs his thumb over your knuckles. your eyes widen slightly, and you can't help the smile that takes over your face.

"deal."

maybe your heart wasn't so stupid after all.

🍎 pomme's final notes - EEE!! baby's first post!! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! zayne's my favorite LI (and also my ideal type) so imagining cute scenarios with him is super easy!!

my ask box is also open! do let me know if you have any cute ideas for him (or any of the LIs!) and i'd be more than happy to write a cute little thing if inspiration strikes :9

[skzstannie]

"My Soulmate"

SKZ -> Hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: slight angst, crack, vampire/soulmate AU wc: ~2,200 cw: none

summary: being kidnapped and brought to your vampire soulmate is something you never knew you needed... until now.

A/N: Hello again! Life's been crazy, and I've actually had this written since forever ago, so I decided to go ahead and edit and post it! Hope you enjoy :)

Alsoooo, I survived the Ticketmaster war and was able to snag some SKZ tickets to the Chicago show!!!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Please be careful. That area is so sketchy, especially at night. Infested with those dastardly vampires, I'll tell ya."

"Mom, I'm fine. The bus station is only a mile down the road, and I'm almost there," you speak into the phone.

Your mom gives a disappointed sigh from the other end. "Sweetie, I've heard so many stories of girls going missing on that street. I really wish you would've listened to me and taken a different way home."

"I've always taken this way home from work; why are you so worried about it now?" The more you speak with your mom, the more paranoid you become. All the shadows out of the corner of your eye appear as humans, lurking behind buildings and in alleyways.

"Because a girl was killed just last week walking around down there, not to mention she was by herself. Just like you!" she screeches over the line. You have to pull the phone away from your head to protect your poor eardrums. "It was a gang that took them! What was their name again? Stray dogs? Stray... Stay? I can't remember."

"It's Stray Kids, mom. I'm sure they're not even around these parts anymore now that the cops are looking for them."

Too focused on your surroundings rather than the ground beneath you, you trip and fall over a large lip in the sidewalk. Your body hits the ground, and you immediately clutch your knee. Your legs are littered with scrapes and scratches, but your knee in particular has blood dripping down it. Pieces of dirt cover your skin, unpleasantly sticking to your wound and the oozing blood.

You startle from the sudden cold breeze you feel over your shoulder. You turn abruptly, hissing when your leg rubs against the ground. Another gust of wind brushes past your front, and you're quick to twist around again. Your heartrate picks up at the eeriness of the situation, your hands turning clammy.

Suddenly, a being materializes in front of you. A scream catches in your throat when another appears next to him. Both are dressed in normal clothing, albeit entirely black in appearance, the only color emitting from the two beings in front of you coming from their pale skin. It's almost sparkling under the glow from the streetlights.

They stand and stare for a moment, and the silence is palpable. As you make eye contact with them, you take notice of their eye color- a deep, fiery red. You feel as though you’re in a hypnotic state as you continue to stare into their eyes. Your surroundings become blurred the longer you look, and you begin to feel dizzy as the world around you begins to spin.

You can faintly hear your mom screaming at you through your phone, calling out for you with panic in her voice, but you can't seem to look away from the boys in front of you.

The dizzier you feel, the calmer you become. It's a weird sensation, feeling all your anxiety and fear just slipping from you. The last thing you see is the muscular man in front of you approaching before you close your eyes from the exhaustion. It came out of nowhere, but it's all-consuming as all thoughts leave your head, and you're left their laying limp and vulnerable.

~ ~ ~

Your eyes feel heavy as you open them, and the bright lights are blinding as they invade your vision. Reaching up to rub your eyes, you quickly realize that your arms are tied behind your back. Becoming aware of your surroundings, you feel the cool plastic chair beneath you. Looking down, you see the zip ties around each of your ankles, anchoring you to the chair.

You appear to be tied up in a cell of some sort. Black, solid bars seal you off from the outside of the room. The cell is small, only about 8 ft by 8 ft if you had to guess. The floor is nothing special, just some concrete. While you can't see much from where your seated in the corner, the room around you seems empty and cold. A desk sits in the middle with a few stacks of paper on top.

Your eyes tear up at your predicament as the memories of the men dressed in all black come back to you. Question upon question spring into your head; where'd they come from? Where'd they bring you? What do they want from you?

Your worries seem to multiply by the second, and you are filled with dread as you consider the possibilities.

You know you must look amess as sweat starts to pool on your forehead, not only from the temperature of the room but also the imminent danger present upon you. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you desperately pull at the zip ties holding you hostage.

A door creaks open while in the middle of your struggle, and you freeze. Voices fill the open space, and your mouth runs dry at the thought of meeting your captor.

"I told you, we won't be getting our next shipment of blood for another couple weeks. You're just gonna have to hold off-" the voice cuts off as the man walks around the corner. He makes eye contact with you. He shares the same eye color as the men that took you, but you know from the facial features that this isn't the same one.

The man heaves a sigh, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've gotta call you back," he says before hanging up the phone. Without uttering another word, the man walks back out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.

It feels as if hours have gone by the next time you hear the door open. This time, cries of pain fill the silent void. You become alert at that, straightening up in your seat. Curiosity fills your gaze as you’re welcomed with the man from earlier, this time accompanied by two more.

The two men are being dragged by their ears, which appears uncomfortable if the sounds of pain are anything to go by.

The man from earlier releases them once they are standing right outside your cell.

"Explain yourselves," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Both men start talking over each other immediately, making it impossible to understand either one. "One at a time you pabos!" he interrupts them, creating an uncomfortable silence.

The buff one, which you now recall as one of the accomplices to your kidnapping, gestures roughly to the other man. Taking this as his cue to explain, he begins, "We swear she's the right one this time!" His words are rushed as he gestures towards you.

"You're kidding," the man in charge says, bringing his fingers to grasp at the bridge of his nose. "We've already been over this. You two can't keep kidnapping women from off the streets just because you believe them to be Hyunjin's soulmate."

Your heart races as your brought into the discussion. Soulmate?

You've heard of soulmates, but only ever in fiction, like books and movies. From what you've read, vampires are the only beings who can initiate the soulmate bond. Thereafter, the human can feel the bond, as well.

Suddenly, the pieces fall perfectly into place as you consider all the factors. Materializing out of nowhere, the red eyes, the hypnosis. These guys are vampires. How you didn't put it together sooner, you're not sure.

The bravery you're hit with is astounding, and you can't hold yourself back from interrupting the conversation. "Who are you guys and what do you want from me?" The man's rambling stops as all three look to you.

"Hi..." the man rambling starts, "I'm Jisung, and this is Lee Know and Changbin. We've brought you here because we believe you're our friend's soulmate."

"Please just let me go. I promise not to tell anyone about this!" you plead. You don't know what being the soulmate of a vampire entails, but you surely don't want to find out.

"Oh, we can never let you go," the man in charge, Lee Know, answers. "You've seen us, experienced our presence. You either have to stay with us, or... well, we kill you. You can thank these idiots for that," he gestures to Jisung and Changbin. Jisung brings his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly.

You let out a sob at the ultimatum. You don't want to stay here forever. You want to go home, shower, and complain to your mom about work. You want to call your best friend and talk to her about the cute guy that you saw. The thought of never being able to do those things again envelopes you with sorrow, and more prominently, fear.

"Please don't cry," Jisung says, his hands coming up around the bars of the cell. "We would never want Hyunjin's soulmate to be sad."

"Jisung, we don't even know if this is his soulmate," Changbin says, his gaze piercing the side of your face.

"I'll prove it to you," he says before running out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

"I swear, I will kill both of you if this isn't the right girl. You said that the time before this was the last, and I'm getting tired of hiding dead bodies," Lee Know tells Changbin.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you suddenly really hope you are this guy's soulmate. While this doesn't sound like the greatest of situations, at least if you live you'll get a chance to escape.

Changbin and Lee Know talk amongst themselves, and your anxiety starts to build once more.

~ ~ ~

It feels as if hours have gone by the time there's movement outside your cell again. Changbin and Lee Know, having gotten tired of standing, had taken a seat on the couch towards the back of the room, busying themselves on their phones.

You're still stuck in the same position. You've been wriggling your hands around, but you've realized there's no use in trying to escape. The two men would surely notice if the zip ties came undone, and even if they didn't, you're still stuck in this cell. You don't know what lies outside this room, but you're scared to find out.

You finally hear the door swing open, and you recognize Jisung's voice, this time accompanied by another stranger. The two come into view, and your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes meet the man Jisung brought with him.

He is easily the most beautiful man you've ever seen. His eyes meet yours, and you're immediately captivated, unable to look away. It's a strange feeling, but you suddenly feel all the worry and fear being washed from you, leaving you with a feeling of peace and serenity. It's almost like you've known this man for years, the way he brought you immediate comfort in this unfamiliar place.

"My soulmate," he whispers, and at this point you can only assume this is the 'Hyunjin' they were talking about.

In the blink of an eye, he materializes in front of you, now inside the cell. He quickly brings his hands towards you, and you feel no fear. The dread that once filled your body is no more as you allow him to carefully undo the zip ties from around your wrists and ankles.

Tears still slip down your cheeks, but the emotional pain you once felt is no more. You're overcome with unfamiliar emotions, and the tears don't stop.

You feel as if you recognize Hyunjin from your dreams. Always the hero, saving you from whatever dangers are out there for waiting for you.

Once the zip ties are off, you immediately rise to your feet and reach out to hold him. He embraces you even tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around your exhausted figure.

"This is such a strange feeling, but I feel at peace now," you whisper to him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"It's because we're together. The soulmate bond, I initiated it, and you've accepted it," he whispers back. "We can be together now."

"Have I seen you before?" you ask, taking a step back to admire his beautiful features.

"Maybe in your dreams. I've visited you there before. I've known what you looked like for a long time. That's how these guys found you," he says, gesturing behind him to Jisung and Changbin.

"Yea, and it only took us two tries! Do you know how vague of a description I had to go off of?" Jisung complains.

"Because I didn't expect you to go out and try to find her!" Hyunjin exclaims, exasperated.

"Well, I figured since your birthday was coming up, I could do something nice for you. And it only costed us one casualty!"

"Which I'm still dealing with, by the way," Lee Know says.

"Yea, yea. I just had a gut feeling about it this time."

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your descendents would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[risingchaos]

Me when all my bones hurt and I’ve been dizzy all evening so I project and make silly headcanons.

Steve Rogers with POTS, both pre and post serum because you can pry disabled Steve from my cold dead hands.

Pre-Serum

- Steve was a fainter and Bucky doesn’t even react to it anymore other than a “you good?”

- He developed it after his bout with scarlet and rheumatic fever, though he didn’t notice it much in his youth because of his already existing heart issues and chalked it up to just his general feeling bad

- Near constant headaches and coat hanger pain

- His HR would increase 50-60 almost every time he stood and it was a pain in the ass when he worked

- Used a cane for stability (and pain relief) because a bitch was dizzy, and it helped keep his HR down some

- Cannot regulate temperature for his life

- Has definitely had such bad blood pooling that he pulls Bucky over and draws a heart into his palm that stays there for a hot second and Bucky gives him the most “what the fuck” look he possibly can

- Having such poor nutrition and living in such a stressful time has not helped any of this

After the serum, Steve’s POTS went into remission. However, the severe stress of coming out of the ice and everything brought him out of it. Here’s how it presents now.

- Doesn’t faint anymore but he hates pre-syncope more

- Has a whole compression suit he basically wears under his Captain America uniform, it’s awesome

- Didn’t even realize his heartrate still goes up so much (generally around 30-35 now) because it used to go so high

- Was diagnosed because a doctor did a full work up and asked him a bunch of questions about how he used to be compared to now and ended up having a bunch of testing including wearing a monitor, then subjected him to a tilt table test

- Still deals with a lot of headaches and coat hanger pain

- Our boy gets medication now! And proper nutrition! And he can work out and help his heart be strong and regulate his nervous system so he’s in much better health

- Should definitely still use a mobility aid at least on the bad days because he wall walks a lot but doesn’t even notice it

- Gets really crippling vertigo where he’s bed bound for a day or two

There’s more that I think about and a bunch of comorbidities I want to talk about but my eyes feel like they’re being stabbed so that’s all for now, folks.

(Also I have POTS so this isn’t all out of my ass)

[veryace-ficrecs]

Young Justice Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Big girls don't cry by siren_of_the_ocean - Rated G

For Bart Allen, it's a random weekday in the middle of a random year. For Tim Drake, it's the day after his birthday and his whole world had just fallen apart.

Rest and Relaxation Post-Mission by Cherry_Sofa_729 - Rated T

After a mission that leaves everyone in safe condition but exhausted, all of Young Justice decides a little R & R is in order. Granted, when you’re young, together without any supervision, all dating each other, and a bunch of superheroes, a chill night in looks a little different

Dick needs to learn to stop listening when young justice starts talking by allmywritings - Rated T

Dick wished he could stop overhearing the things Young Justice said. At this point, he’d make a deal with the gods. Or://Dick keeps hearing the absolutely wild things that come out of Young Justice's mouths and then has to carry on with his day like there's nothing wrong.

Running in Place by d3ssie_r0se - Rated T

"Tim. How're his vitals?" She forced a calm into her voice. Like her, Tim was almost certainly itching to be out there looking as well. Still, it's not like either of them stood a chance. Cassie maybe, if he wasn't trying. Tim? At the end of the day, Tim was human. "Heartrate and BP through the roof. I can't tell if he's running low blood glucose yet. Both flashes have done this for days without crashing but... It was rough after." Cassie fought to keep her breathing steady. It was awful feeling helpless like this. Conner threw his bottle of water to the ground, "Okay. I'll give it another go." Then he was gone. Again. Cassie glanced to Tim. His usually cool blue eyes were betraying signs of stress as he clicked through various tabs on his laptop. They couldn't activate anything global without alerting the league and putting Bart in danger. Not to mention further stressing him out. -- most speedsters run off their problems when things get to much. where it gets dangerous is when they don't (or can't) stop.

Uh, Who?! by FloatingNebulas - Rated T

Everyone knows the four remaining members of Young Justice: Tim Drake, Bart Allen, Cassandra Sandsmark, and Kon-El. Everyone also knows that the four of them used to be part of a team named Young Justice in their early days, before joining the Teen Titans. However, very few people know what happened on that team. Very few people also know about the missing members of the team. Young Justice was not just those four. Young Justice was populated almost entirely by unknown names in case files and half-forgotten syllables. Or, five times someone learned about the forgotten members of Young Justice and had no idea who they were, and one time they met them.

it’s all fun and games ‘til Santa checks the naughty list by suzukiblu - Rated T

“Because we said we were gonna do it together, Bart,” Cassie says. “Which requires us all being here and contributing. Together. Tim is not here yet, therefore we are not all here and contributing, therefore we are going to wait.” “Tim is an atheist!” Bart says. “A Jewish atheist!” “Christmas decorations don’t, like, stop working if you don’t believe in them, man,” Kon says, then raises an eyebrow at him. “And aren’t you an atheist?” “That’s between me and the Speed Force,” Bart says, making a face at him. “But Tim is. And Cassie knows gods and doesn’t even pray to them, and you just keep anthropomorphizing your broken cloning tube!” “Poor ol’ Nanny McTubers, may she rest in peace,” Kon says wistfully, laying a hand over his heart before shrugging casually. “Or pieces.”

"Don't mess with my friends" by siren_of_the_ocean - Rated T

A phone call can bring many things. Good news, bad news, joy and terror. This particular phone call never should have happened. “Tim. Greta’s missing”

Those still here by Lilac_Demetrius - Rated T

After a week in space, Tim and his team return to earth only to find out that 5 years have passed since they left, and everyone thinks they're dead.

Bat in a Flash by siren_of_the_ocean - Rated T

When Tim is struck by lightning, his whole world changes. Everything moves just slightly slower now. Not because they are slow but because he is fast. Now he has to adapt and live, but with the help of Young Justice and the Flash team, he might actually make it through.

The Case of the Missing Kryptonite by Mouse_in_this_house - Rated G

The Kryptonite ring in the Batcave has gone missing. When such a dangerous weapon is in the wind, the Bats have to collaborate to track it down. Meanwhile, the former Young Justice team obliviously enjoys their piercing party.

Streamer by Day, Vigilante by Night by jupiterliketheplanet - Rated G

Ok, maybe Tim has a problem with working too much. But seriously Dinah, a hobby? or; Four friends accidentally get internet famous in an attempt to get Dinah off their back about having fun outside of work.

Tim Collects Last Names Like Infinity Stones by zetarogue - Rated G

“If we got married, you’d be Tim Allen.” Tim didn’t look up from his computer as he spoke. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t just add another hyphen.”

Put a ring on it by Miss_Choco_chips - Rated T

"You’re gonna freak out so badly over this when you actually wake up", she informed Tim’s fluffy hair. Said vigilante only released a cute little snore, face buried on her lap, legs thrown over Kon’s, one hand that had fallen from the couch resting on Bart’s head where he sat on the floor in front of them. "Well, they were going to find out one way or another. And this was probably among the best scenarios." "How? This was probably out of Tim’s ‘worst case’ nightmare list." "I was there and saw their faces. I didn’t even know Batman could express any emotion other than ‘cold’ and ‘overflowing with rage’. That image will bring me joy in future distressing times, I’m sure. My patronus memory, if you will."

[theoneandonlysemla]

Sujamma Sundas

[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

Tagged by @skyrim-forever and @dirty-bosmer! Thank you <3

Tagging: @vanilleeistee @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @elavoria @firefly-factory @hircines-hunter @illumiera @lillxart @ladytanithia @pocket-vvardvark @rakaiawriter @sheirukitriesfandom @thequeenofthewinter

Honestly, I was like "uuuuhhhh, what did I even write in my life" at first but then I remembered that one specific scene in Dealings with Daedra: Boethiah's Wrath that always makes me so happy when people reach it while reading! That's the one.

Nevri and Morotar have been on the road and poor Nevri had to fight her way through a draugr infested nordic ruin. They now have reached an inn, where they stay the night and Nevri helped herself to a bottle of wine. Let's say, the two of them had a not so pleasant conversation and Nevri left, to wash the rest of the draugr blood from her body. [I'd love to put the entire scene here, but that would be like 2,5k words, so take a snippet:]

A knock on the door startled her, interrupting her train of thoughts. She sat up in the tub, one arm covering her breasts and the other grabbing for the hilt of her sword. Her heartrate rose. She was ready to fight, in this case, completely bare. 

“Who’s there?” She uttered, feeling that she was no longer master over the movements of her tongue.

Instead of an answer, the door opened. Back through the archway she was able to see it, but the light over on the other side of the room was dim. Too dim to recognize anyone who had entered. Only a tall silhouette. Her heart skipped a beat. What did he want in here?

“What’s the matter?” She prattled, cursing the amount of wine she had drunk.

Still no word, but she heard heavy steps on the stone floor. The figure traversed the archway and light fell on his body. Nevri’s guess was right, the Altmer stood in front of the bath. The sword still in hand, she let herself sink in a little deeper, her black hair floated around her body. Automatically she crossed her legs and shifted a bit to the side, turning in the tub. Expectantly she stared at the High Elf.

“What is the matter?” She repeated her question, this time slow, to not make it too obvious that she was drunk.

He did not wear his armour anymore, only the boots were a reminder of it. He looked over her and Nevri would have liked to vanish. She did not know, how much of her naked body he was able to see, but every little part of her bare, gray skin was too much.

“As you have been gone for quite a while, I found myself in the responsibility to check on you.”

“Check on me?” She repeated. “Why would you?”

“You are the one who pays me. It would be quite inauspicious if you were to drown drunken in a tub.” He sounded reproachful.

“Canmal pays you, not me. So, you can let me drown in peace,” Nevri answered and let the blade fall out of her hand.

Coin was the only reason, he cared about her wellbeing. She knew that, but it still stung. Without giving him any further looks, she let herself sink under the water. She held her breath, eyes open. And she counted. One, two, three… Hopefully he would be gone soon. Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight… She could not hear any steps, but the water around her ears may deadened the sound. Sixty-four, Sixty- She had to resurface. With her hair sticking to her face, she emerged from the water. She rubbed it out of her face and to her surprise, Morotar still stood next to her.

“You have checked on me. I am fine. You can leave,” she nagged.

Instead of leaving he held a towel in her direction. Reluctantly she took it, giving him a confused look.

“Out,” he said in his most strict voice. “Now.”

“No?” She answered, but being very unsure of her response.

He made a big step closer to the tub, now standing directly in front of it. Looking down on her, his blue eyes fixated her. His expression was unreadable, frozen in place. Nevri pulled her legs closer to her body, clutching the towel in front of her. She felt her heartbeat fasten even more; shivers of excitement rushed through her. Her mouth was dry and to withstand the eye contact was more than exhausting. Morotar bowed forward, his head was in line with hers. She breathed in his smell and felt the warmth emanating from his body.

“If you do not leave this tub right now, I will pull you out and throw you into your bed. Without granting you to cover your bareness. And maybe, I will change my mind on the way and toss you into the little lake outside, as you are so unwilling to leave the water. You would be sober in no time.”

Nevri swallowed hard and her gaze flitted to the pile of clothes and armour pieces on the floor. No, she really did not want to leave the bathroom without her garments or her armour. She had no choice but to obey his order.

“At least turn around if you insist on staying in here,” she mumbled.

[the-habitat-ring]

Okay, you all know I love my wrens but coming home to one *in my house* was not what I expected in the slightest

No clue how it got inside. I had left work early due to my heartrate being 140+ all day and as soon as I opened the door I could tell something was wrong because the cats were all losing their minds. My spouse had to come home and help me get the poor thing out without letting the cats escape

[silentmagi]

Do you have any plans for the rest of the class in the Prototype AU

Prototype!BNHA

That's a good question, and to be honest, I do have some notes...

Yuga Aoyama - I kinda want to give him more of Tuxedo Mask completing the suit look and giving him a cane and artificial rose support items to supplement his naval laser.

Mina Ashido - Lankier, more alien look, curlier horns that change constantly, and I'm thinking I'd make her more hyperactive and incorporates more dance moves into her fighting. Is trying to understand emotions. (maybe alien, maybe just weird.)

Tsuyu Asui - Gender fluid (due to being male in the original designs), she's still a good friend and stalwart companion. Helps to keep others grounded more. Collects frog merch and tries to sneak out when it rains.

Tenya Ida - More of streamlined hero costume, forced to sit still by his iron will and a bit more energetic. The iron will shows signs of crumbling under stress, such as when a hero killer goes after his older brother, and he snaps going on a hunt.

Mashirao Ojiro - He and Akatani are both going to be sparring partners. He is another grounding force for the class.

Denki Kaminari - I'd play up that he's actually fairly intelligent, and a bit of an Anglo/Ameri-phile. He's also going to call people out on their shit, as he fears no death. Bit of a flirt at the worst possible times... Probably flirted with Himiko when she was trying to stab him.

Eijiro Kirishima - Bit rougher around the edges, still "MANLY" and a bit of a workout maniac.

Koji Koda - No notes. Move along. Leave a sacrifice of leafy greens for the rabbit on your way out. Yuwai-chan is not threatening my life.

Rikido Sato - I think maybe having him be the big brother of the class, and using food to help his class to deal with things.

Mezo Shoji - Nothing major, might have him be able to make the full mini-heads on one of his limbs.

Kyoka Jiro - I love her, Momo loves her. Might borrow from Shadows: The Horror Movie Heroes by Clouds in that she can control the heartrates of others to an extent.

Hanta Sero - I'd actually might have him do more health related things, like background yoga, encouraging balanced meals, and such.

Fumikage Tokoyami - Not many notes on him, probably a bit kinder when around kids (Eri), due to-

Dark Shadow - Yes, the quirk. Yes, they are sentient. When in class they take the form of a younger long black haired girl with a bird shaped hair charm, and has a small desk for herself next to Fumikage. Yes, I know that it was an omake and due to a villain. You can guess how much I care.

Shoto Todoroki - Not much design or character notes, however, the left (scar side) eye has some minor vision defects that he wears glasses when reading for. Yes, he is just as unhinged as the Big Three, and a bit bipolar.

Toru Hagakure - THEY GET A PROPER COSTUME THAT GOES INVISIBLE WHEN THEY WANT! Keep the smiling mask for when facing villains in battle. They are non-binary, and still working on what they want in life. Also loves martial arts.

Minoru Mineta - That's a strange way of spelling Hitoshi Shinsou. He and Akatani are friends though no one outside of them can understand the friendship, even Bakugou.

Momo Yaoyorozu - she is going to be bigger, because she knows she needs to store up extra fats and lipids to power her quirk, like she is THICC, and Kyoka Jiro is weak to her. More confident and strategic. Also, cannons are not the answer, they are the question. Her answer is YES.

Shota Aizawa - Listen, Dadzawa is real, he is married to Present Mic, and is tired. So very tired. He doesn't know how Akatani, Yuu, and Katsuki are under his control until he lets them loose, but he has his hands full with the rest of the problem children. Did I mention this poor man is so very tired and his last vestiges of faith in humanity grows weaker every time his class is attacked and he lets the respond in kind. He's still working on the proportionate and appropriate level of force response lessons.

[moodymisty]

Sorry for this 5am longpost. I just got jolted awake by a really intense nightmare and while waiting for my heartrate to chill, I had a daydream vaguely based on your tag about Sanguinius being down bad for Horus lover. I hope this doesn't get cut off by tumblr due to length.

Mortarion is my favorite right now, and of course the fungus took over. I am a sucker for a cynical bastard falling for someone who secretly has a heart of gold despite appearances.

I was thinking of Horus' lover being a princess for her foreign planet, but she's unknowingly a low level psyker or something. Somehow, someway, she can always without fail tell when a person lies. This sort of thing plagues her life terribly, everyone from the lowest servant to the most noble lord constantly lying straight to her face and she has to try and not show that she knows.

Horus is the one to conquer her planet, and a situation like Fulgrim and his wives happens where she is offered to him for marriage, as is typical on her world. She is silently a bit miserable, she is now a prop to a man's ambition(as having a wife would probably make Horus seem more human, more relatable, making him less 'other' to baseline humans and he would be very aware of that) and watching him lie to so many people's faces at big events, or even political talks, is just soul-crushing to her.

At some big Terran event different primarchs are taking turns meeting Horus' new wife, and telling plenty of fibs about how excited they are to meet her, how lovely she looks, so on. And then she meets Mortarion.

I am new to the books so far, but Mortarion seems so blunt. Like he doesn't waste the effort to lie. And I feel like that may be one of the (many) things that made him difficult to get along with, even for his brothers.

I am autistic, not entirely high functioning, and lying is difficult to me. I can't do it well at all. So I don't bother. And boy do I know that people hate when you're truthful with them. So maybe I am projecting onto him lol.

So Mortarion bluntly says some rude but truthful comment to her, like "This is a waste of time." the room gets quiet, and instead of being angry she SMILES. She thinks it is genuinely impressive he just said exactly what was on his mind despite the expectations placed on him. And in front of such a crowd, too.

At some point, a serving person does an oopsie and drops a drink, some of it getting on her, and Mortarion is just stanking it up in the corner waiting to see her berate the poor soul. Typical entitled nobility.

But she gently reassures them, and even goes so far as to help them wipe up the little mess. He's surprised, but his cynical side wins out and he just files it away as her pretending to be kind.

In the future, at another event she is sitting alone and brooding in the gardens a bit tipsy from wine. Morty has the same idea to escape the banquet and notices her. They have a heart-to-heart about how fake their lives feel, having to put on little shows and shows of force for social gatherings and parades. How the upper classes are all snakes lying to each other, and ruining the lives of regular people in their little games.

After seeing she isn't just a spoiled little girl with her head in the clouds putting on airs, that she laments the suffering of the "lower" classes, maybe he starts catching feelings.

This is as far as I got lol. My brain skipped ahead to Mortarion being uncharacteristically deferential with her at some other big gathering, like getting down on one knee to gently take her hand and greet her and his brothers all being flabbergasted. The drama would be hilarious. It'd be like an extra middle finger to Horus especially. Fulgrim would have a field day.

The extra angst of Morty finding out she is a low level psyker would also be interesting! He'd be struggling to reconcile the monstrous image he has of psykers with the gentle nature of his lover.

ANYWAY I got strangely inspired!! I've never written anything just for fun before, so I know I wouldn't be good at it, but maybe I'll try? It's like I've got this thing in my brain screeching at me to at least attempt it lol.

(By the way, I hope the crazy weather yesterday missed you! That shit was scary.)

This is fantastic, I fucking love this. I've been wanting to write more for Mortarion but I struggle to find a good idea sometimes, this is really really good. I also think that Morty wouldn't have the energy or care to lie, and that seeing someone who doesn't flaunt their stature, and even treats him kindly would make him catch feelings.

I've already gone so off the rails doing random writings that I held myself back from doing this one, but once i get a few more requests done I hope you don't mind if I come back and write this. Unless you wish to keep it only to yourself ;3

the worst of the weather missed me, but it was still pretty intense, the wind was like 60mph. i hope you were safe as well!

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

hi! you've been posting about using corsets to manage dysautonomic symptoms lately, and i was wondering if you had any insight into the action mechanisms behind how that helps/advice for what types of corsets to look for and what sensations to be aiming for in your body when using them as a mitigation?

i have a bunch of dysautonomia/potential POTS symptoms (episodes of racing heartrate and lightheadedness, usually helped somewhat by keeping my feet elevated and often tied to barometric pressure changes or doing A Lot Of Stairs Daily for extended periods, really poor temperature regulation and inability to function when im overheated, constantly freezing extremities, coathanger pain and extreme constant muscle tension in my neck/shoulders, an innate need to be constantly guzzling water, the list goes on and on), and ive been doing some really basic research into corsetry for fashion silhouette reasons lately anyway. if i could combine the fashion items i'm eyeing up anyway with a functional disability aid, that would be... some of the most awesome shit i've ever encountered? lol.

(no obligation to answer, of course, i don't expect you to like, be willing to give something adjacent to medical advice to an internet stranger, but if you want to ramble at length about this topic, i'd be greatly helped by the information! either way, sending solidarity your way and i hope the Horrors retreat again for a time soon.)

Oh gosh, let me be very clear. I DO NOT RECOMMEND CORSETRY FOR DYSAUTONOMIA

What is MEDICALLY recommended for many dysautonomia patients, including POTSies like my cousin, or OH long haulers like me is COMPRESSION GARMENTS. Things like compression socks, gloves, joint braces, etc. The compression makes it harder for blood too pool downwards with gravity in your extremeties, which can also reduce the frequency of fainting spells for those of us with accompanying syncope. There are some GREAT ones available at most department stores for pretty cheap. Walmart fucking sucks, but they carry affordable copper lined compression gloves that i have been using with regularity for about 5 years now to manage blood-pooling/swelling and joint pain.

The additional problem I have (and critically the additional TRAINING that I have) is that on top of my condition meaning I'm unable to stay upright for extended periods without swooning, I have hypovolemia. There is just....sort of less blood in me???? Volume-wise at least. So when it pools, it leaves a much more oxygen deprived brain behind than it even would have without that. What's the medical intervention for this come to find out? Compression garments again!

Well, I've been making and wearing corsets since I was 12 so that's AWFULLY convenient lmao since buying one would mean either convincing a doctor to prescribe me a medical corset (my doctor doesn't like doing stuff like this due to my tendency for severe deconditioning) or saving up a few hundred dollars for someone who can construct an appropriately tailored daily-use corset.

Thank fuck I can just make one instead lol.

That said, I am actually planning to make the project into a visual process here on tumblr (maybe ravelry too) because I'm strongly on the side of knowledge being shared. I doubt there will be many who could make use of my exact plans, but maybe seeing how the process is built helps them anyway!

Here are my primary recommendations for using corsetry as compression garmentry in the meantime:

Due to the severity of my symptoms, and the limited nature of my current corsetry options, I have been intermittently "tight-lacing¹" throughout the day to retain cognitive function. For the love of fucking god, do not do this to yourself. Ensure that whatever corsetry you may purchase is able to be comfortably worn as compression garmentry with about a 1inch gap between the lacing panels rather than allowing the corset to be fully tight-laced shut.

Functional corsetry is largely intended to redistribute the weight of heavy layered outer clothing, which means it will have gussets for your hips to ensure they are not overly compressed. Lingerie corstry rarely does this, often ending at the wearing waist instead to avoid over-constriction of the hips. Whichever route you take is fine, and likely determined by what compression you may or may not need around your low back, but make sure that whatever design you choose allows for full hip movement/rotation

Compression corsetry can also double as a pretty fabulous frame for binding breast tissue or packing a fuller bra cup look into the chest, but if you do this INSIDE the corset rather than ADDED TO THE OUTSIDE and sealed internally into the corset by the outer fabric, it may change the compression function of the garment, so you will want to work with someone knowledgeable about which placements may work best for you.

You will need to learn how to breathe differently in a corset. I recommend looking into the breathing and vocal exercises that opera simgers use to train, as often they must be able to perform at high lung capacities in similarly structured garments. This will have the double effect of giving you additional resilience OUT of the corsets to passing out if you have syncope symptoms. When you know more about intentional breathwork, it becomes easier to alter your breath throughout the day to maintain cognitive functioning and balance/consciousness.

If you're going to use ANY compression garments for an orthostatic dysautonomia condition, I recommend doing a few things: buy a couple of the thing you're using, and then SEVERAL UNDER LININGS. This allows you to wear the outer compression garment daily for much longer before needing to trade out to your spare and wash the first. Just replace the liners each day. Also, keep your liners and compression garments in a small container by your bed with a full water bottle and some kind of portable electrolyte [I have a metal water bottle with a water filter pod in it so I can refill it at most water sources, and a small tupperware of a sodium and sodium bicarbonate 50/50blend in a little folding storage cube by my bed]. When you first wake up, your body is gonna really hate trying to re-regulate, and you're more likely to have rapid onset (as opposed to daily cumulative) symptoms of the condition. So before you stand up in bed, pop some electrolytes, drink at least 8oz of water, and strap into your compression garments before you actually stand up. This makes it easier for your body to move through regulation without you passing out suddenly for anyone who has fall risk flags like syncope. Lastly, keep a stimulent around for emergency blood pressure drops or days when you can't seem to regulate. Caffeine and prescription stimulents like Ritalin or Adderall are common (I get Ritalin already for ADHD, and it has substantially lowered my rate of falls), but there are other options out in the world too. Just. Don't fuck around with stimulents casually. They can be really critical for dysautonomia if you're dealing with a lot of it, because they're CNS-actors and tend to be regulating for us, but stimulents are, nonetheless, prone to some nasty side effects (known more than a few people who ended up with severe malnutrition issues or psychotic/manic episodes being induced and while those things are obviously things that can happen, and don't necessarily mean you should or should rule a support out, knowing your specific areas of risk when using a stimulent medication can be really important. If you need stimulents regularly to raise your BP and aren't already taking it for another reason, I'd recommend exploring BP raising meds for daily use with your doctor instead so you can save any stimulent use for when it's most urgent without having already accumulated risk factors.

I really wish I had more for you, but unfortunately treating and managing orthostatic conditions has been a nightmare for all of the 30yrs I've been diagnosed with one. It's getting better for sure, but it's still rough out there for us.

Ultimately, here's what I'll say: if you like corsets aesthetically, take the time to get yourself a really well made, tailored to you corset, and let the tailor know that you're looking for something that may be daily use. They'll balance out some of the more formal and rigid boning with enough flexibility that you should be safe wearing the corsets for up to 4-8hrs consequetively. And while I don't recommend jumping into the long haul right off, if you wear it for an hour and it's comfortable and you can think a little more clearly and you're moving faster than you're used to without toppling, maybe try it again for two hours next time. Never keep it on for longer than is comfortable, and let your body tell you what comfortable is going to look like. With time, as you get used to wearing it, it'll be easier to mark places you'd like more or less compression for future versions. As with any compression garment, make sure you have a comfortable underlining tho, or you'll have some hard-to explain marks on your skin after a few days.

[astralbulldragon13]

Arrigo Makes a Mistake

(This is a fanfic using an original character insert for the listener in Escaped Audio's 'New Jersey Rats' Series. Warning, there is some implied racism in this story, if that does not jive with you, feel free to skip. I completely understand)

Skyla Ghost Bear the Intern half-way listened to the conversation between Jean and Tricky Ricky, talking about the logistics needed to complete the job with the gold. It had been about a week since the incident with the Feds, and they were invited over again to 'talk shop', with the gold. Jean still was insistent on no one, not even the Bada Brothers knowing about that little incident.

Jean seemed a bit nervous when it came to inviting Skyla along, but she wouldn't say 'no' to some, really good, home-made Italian food. Even if it was in the company of the Cosa Nostra.

The only time she even got to have Italian food back home was when her Lala would take her and her siblings to the Olive Garden by the mall. This food was so much better, like comparing Taco John’s to authentic food from a real Hispanic household. 

‘But Taco Johns has potato ole’s,’ she joked mentally as she took a sip of the dry red that Ricky provided them to drink, trying not to scrunch her face at the taste. She was never a fan of dry wines, not even when they use them in church. ‘And Olive Garden has breadsticks and really fucking good salad.’

“Tell me, young intern,” Tricky Ricky spoke, looking up from his plate. “You know some about me, I don’t know some about you. Tell me about yourself.”

Jean glanced at his Intern with a fair amount of concern, hoping this wasn’t some attempt to dig up dirt to hold over them. 

Skyla offered him a calm, polite smile. This was a businesswoman’s smile, like a dagger wrapped in velvet, and Jean was able to decrease his heartrate at that. “Not much to me, sir. I’m from the midwest, came to New Jersey with hopes of experiencing a new life and seeing the ocean instead of the Missouri River. I will be receiving my degree shortly.”

“What kind of blood do you have in you?” 

Skyla’s business-smile tightened and her jaw tensed. Badabing and Badaboom looked at each other nervously, while Jean was almost worried that she may jump the table as Skyla had been very private about her ancestry, but she just picked up their wine glass. “I’m Plains Native American on my mother’s side, yes. We… aren’t particularly close

“What about your father?” Giovanni asked, eyeing the young individual.

She returned the look, her blue eyes unwavering, something uncommon amongst most who look the consigliere in the eye. “I never knew him. I know that he was an Irish exchange student, and that I have his eyes. That’s really all I know about him.”

Tricky Ricky nodded, finishing a bite of his food. “A shame, truly. He doesn’t know he has quite the intelligent child.”

Skyla laughed polietly, nodding in agreement with the old man’s words. “I thank you for your words, sir. I truly appreciate it.”

As dinner was wrapping itself up, Skyla excused herself to the restroom. After she washed and dried her hands, she reached into the inner pocket of her blazer to apply a fresh coat of her favorite red lipstick. It wasn’t some designer brand, but simple Maybelline New York #333, Hot Chase that she found in Wal-Mart at the age of seventeen. She popped the top off and twisted the tube up and paused, looking at the color, then her reflection with the faded color still on her lips and thought to her poor, scruffy superior. Skyla didn’t know why, but their mind went to him, his hair wild, his business-shirt un-tucked, and his pretty face covered in kissmarks in this shade of red. 

With a girlish giggle, Skyla applied the lipstick leaving a fresh and shiny coat. She twisted the spiral back down and re-capped her lipstick, sticking it back in their pocket. She undid her hair and retwisted it, pinning it again with her barrett, then walking out the door. 

To her surprise, she found Arrigo waiting outside the door, waiting for her. She drew up short, letting the door to the restroom close behind her. “Oh, Mister Belardi! You caught me a little by surprise there. Is there something I can do for you”

The so-called ‘Mafia Prince’ gave a smirk that Skyla supposed was meant to be seductive, but in truth it just made her skin crawl. “Yeah, uh… what are you doing after dinner?” 

His question sent up so many red flags it could have been used to decorate a rescue boat. Skyla returned to her business smile and tried to move past him. “I have some matters to attend to when I return to my apartment. Now, please excuse me, I do believe dessert was about to be served and I’ve been looking forward to that semifreddo all evening.”

“Or,” he said quickly, caging them with his arms on either side of her body. “You could, uh, come with me? I’m having a yacht party at the marina tonight.” Arrigo reached up with one perfectly manicured hand and stroked her cheek.

“I’ve, uh… never been with a girl like you. I mean, I’ve been with Indian girls before but not your kind of Indian, you know what I mean? Come on, why don’t you… try me on for size? I bet I could do better than that loser Jean. Come on, don’t you want a chance to really have some protection from the family?”

Skyla blinked and tilted her head down to look Arrigo in the eye. The young Belardi heir only stood at five feet, four inches, five foot, six with the help of the lifts in his shoes, while Skyla, being half Lakota, stood at five foot, nine inchest. Pair that with the fact she always wears four inch heels, she was towering over him, and he knew it. 

In response, the Intern decided to use the greatest power in their arsenal, the only gift her father gave her. She glared at Arrigo’s hazel eyes, and to him, looking into Skyla’s eyes was like looking into a stormy sea. 

A chuckle bubbled up from her lips, and she shook her head, almost incredulously. She looked up, and noticed Jean looking around the corner, his brown eyes burning. So, in response to the Princeling’s offer, Skyla place a hand on the arm that was caging her, and gently moved it out of the way, before moving aside and walking away from him, still chuckling, while adding a little sashay to her hips. “Hey, Unch, is everything alright?”

Jean blinked, trying to clear his head. This was something different, she usually called him something different in her mother-tongue, but it sounded similar to what they just called him. 

“Wh-Wha? Oh! Oh, right I, um, was coming to find you. I know how excited you were to have that semifreddo.”

Skyla just giggled and took his arm. “Come one then, let's go.” And they walked off back to the table. Jean glanced over his shoulder to look at Arrigo, who looked offended and rather confused, and just gave the little brat a shit-eating grin. 

[asexualbuthorny]

I’m a background character but the villain’s mine pt.7

CW: past abuse, reader is still and always a simp, Mendella is slightly more comfy, some time has passed since the marriage, future smut

Some time passed and Mendella slowly got used to living with (Name). The alpha was by all means not a bad husband, he did make mistakes and fumble around with his words and interactions but Mendella knew that the alpha had no bad intentions and took it upon himself to handle the quite frankly exhausting social situations with nobles and business partners as the omega was much more skilled in the socialite game. (Name) continued working on his businesses and making his famous crystal flowers. When he asked Mendella to come to his lab for the first time the poor omega almost fainted from excitement since he himself was a fan of science, magic and alchemy. Their life together was slow and peacefull, just like they both wanted. Mendellas family didn't bother contacting him and if any letters did come (Name) would take it uppon himself to read them and unfortunately most weren't kind in any way so the alpha would burn the letters and Mendella would never see them. The alpha knew that it wasn't the best course of action but he couldn't let those people hurt his beloved. Mendella hasn't seen (Names) family since the wedding but from their limited interractions he could gather that they were good people who loved their brother dearly. Despite knowing it was wrong Mendella couldn't help but be a little bitter about not having that kind of family. He didn't get to wallow on that thought for long as (Name) excitedly pulled him to the garden to show him the new finished "hang out" area he's been weirdly focussed on constructing....

The little building was nice, constructed like a mini home with three wooden walls and one glass one through which one could see the views outside. the floor was soft and littered with bag like cusshions stuffed with feathers which (Name) had called a "bean bag". There were also pillows and blankets scattered about. A shelf with books stood against a wall and in the opposite corner stood a small fireplace, seemingly heated by a magical flame. In the corner by the glass wall stood a small table which had snacks and drinks on it and in the other corber by that same wall stood a small shelf and table filled with art supplies, no doubt (Names) since the alpha had the uncommon hobby of drawing.... uncommon for an alpha but Mendella digressed. To the omega this place seemed like the perfect place for a nest. The thought invoked a warm feeling in the omegas chest but he quickly shook it away. 'Yeah right as if i will get anything but our wedding bed and a rough fucking when heat hits' Mendella thought bitterly even as a small part of him dared to hope that his husband was kind enough to at least be gentle. He didn't have much time to think as (Name) gently herded him to sit between the cushions and purred up a storm when the omega seemed to settle down. (Name) curled himself around Mendella and intertwined their tails together. The blonde couldn't help but let out a purr of his own.....

It was quiet for a while until name said those few words that sent Mendellas heartrate up.... "My family is coming to visit"....

"Oh gods"...

[chronically-j]

Introduction

Hi, I’m Jordan!

I’m 21, nonbinary, and my pronouns are she/they/he/it

below is my medical story so far!

so, I’d like to start with the fact that i have PTSD with chronic, dissociative features. this means i really don’t remember much from my childhood, so most will either be vague or will have been explained to me by others, so things may be a bit disjointed

All of my life, i’ve been sick in some way, but always mild enough to not need hospitalization (i consider myself very lucky for that, but part of it is also due to my family being poor and unable to get proper medical care sometimes). I’ve always had aches and pains daily and nausea was quite frequent, though not nearly as often as today. i was a very accident prone child, so much of my pain was attributed to that. ive also gotten daily headaches that come in cycles since i was a young child. i would get headaches for a few days at a time as a kid, then it would calm down for a few weeks/months, then begin again. as an adult, i know get them for weeks at a time, then i get breaks of a few days to a few months, then i repeats. i walked to school all through highschool, and every single day without fail id get insane hip/knee/foot pain, it would be hard to breath, my chest would hurt, and id get dizzy. i was diagnosed with asthma and vocal chord dysfunction at 16

in 2020/2021, i got covid. i cant remember if i was vaccinated at this point, but i believe i was. that week of hell started 6-9 months of hell. it was routine covid, no hospital involved thankfully, but afterwards, we found id either developed POTS/pots like symptoms (being assessed now) or the infection had made it worse. i was experiencing extreme dizziness, falls, a heart rate that would spike to 150 just for walking around. my joints also began getting worse faster. they already werent great, id had many times during school where my shoulders or hips would pop and hurt so bad all day, but they were worse. i also began getting nauseous daily, and soon i was throwing up daily. it got to a point where i couldnt eat or drink anything and my dr called an ambulance for me because i was so dehydrated. the drs diagnosed me with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome, but i continue to use weed because as of rn the pros outweigh the cons (this is both dr and therapist approved). currently though my family is questioning if that is the cause due to certain things not making sense symptom wise, but thats for my dr to decide

as of today, im on medication for my heartrate, im in the process of getting a diagnosis of some kind, and i have an appointment with an EDS specialist to find out if thats why my bones hate me!

i currently use a cane but am slowly accepting that ill likely need more support at some point, and that ill probably need more medication than im comfortable with (i have a huge fear of medication and have to force myself to take what i do)

im hoping to get answers and more help soon! wish me luck!

[purplesaline]

Symptoms of POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Hypoxia (dizzy within 10 minutes of standing up, may experience vision "grey outs" or black outs)

Standing too long may result in trembling (like what happens when your muscles are tired after a workout), cold sweat, feeling like you're about to vomit

Some people may faint

Arms above your head tires you quickly

You feel better if you squat down

You start sitting or laying down with your legs lifted (so they're higher than your heart) when you never did that before

Dry skin (if you had dry skin to start with now it's even dryer)

Intolerance to heat. Need to sit in the shower because standing is even harder than outside the shower

Slower healing

You get heartburn/acid reflux more often

Your feet/hands get cold even when it's warm out (secondary Raynauds)

Exhaustion/lack of energy. You're just tired all the time.

"Out of shape" you can't walk as far/do as much as you used to be able to

Frequent urination

Feeling worse after eating carbs (particularly refined carbs)

Exercise intolerance

Not an exhaustive list

If you read this list and found yourself relating to enough of those points to make you concerned, when was the last viral or bacterial illness you experienced? A lot of people who got covid will have developed POTS as a result. POTS can also be triggered by physical trauma, and AFAB folks are far more likely to develop it than AMAB folks.

If you have ADHD or are hypermobile you are more likely to develop POTS.

If you have hEDS you are more likely to develop it.

the majority of the symptoms we're aware of is a result of our blood vessels not properly constricting, which causes blood to pool in our lower extremities rather than return to our heart for redistribution. This causes the heart to pump harder in an attempt to get the blood returned.

My case is one of the more severe ones and my symptoms are constant rather than coming in flares, but to serve as an example just a 20 minute shopping trip to Walmart had my heartrate up to 200bpm. Luckily fainting is not one of the symptoms I experience.

This is also a disorder than can get more severe over time, so it's possible many people have had it since childhood but the symptoms were mild enough to not be noticeable.

POTS, despite having so many cardiac symptoms, is not actually a cardiac disorder, it's a neurological one that impairs the autonomic nervous system and is one of the listed conditions under rhe Disautonomia umbrella (welcome to the zebra club!).

It is not considered a lethal disorder, despite how frightening it can be to have your heartrate so high. The largest factor to worry about is if fainting is a symptom you experience, but other than the dangers associated with that POTS sufferers have a normal life expectancy. It's disabling for many people and inconvenient for those that aren't disables by it, but it's not damaging your heart.

If you think you might have POTS it can be helpful to have some data to bring with you when you talk to your doctor for the first time. A "poor man's tilt table test" is a great diagnostic tool that anyone can do with access to a heartrate monitor. If you already have a fitbit that can monitor your heartrate that will work just fine. It's not the most accurate but it will give a good enough general snapshot and should hopefully convince your doctor to take the next steps.

If you don't have a heartrate monitor yet one of the most accurate heartrate monitors available to the general public is the Polar H10 chest strap monitor (in fact the guy that did my official testing said it was the best one to get). It was about $100 CAD, so definitely not cheap, but it can be used with some VR games that track your heartrate if that's something you're into lol.

A blood pressure monitor is also something that can help eith diagnostics but they're unfortunately not the most useful as they weren't designed to be used when standing (which is when the blood pressure drops), and, well, I even managed to error out the hospital's blood pressure monitor because my BP dropped too low, so I wouldn't worry too much about getting one unless you want to have one hanging around a anyway. If you do decide to get one, Omron is an excellent brand and recommended by the guy who did my testing (there was one other one he recommended above that but I've forgotten the name of it).

If your adhd meds have stopped working as well as they used to

And you've experienced any of these symptoms I highly recommend you look into getting tested for POTS. I have a strong suspicion that the recent concerns about adulterated adhd medications is not actually a problem with the medication, but a result of POTS. One of the biggest reasons for a false negative on amphetamine drug tests is dilute urine, so with POTS causing frequent urination it's entirely possible to get a false negative even with a therapeutic dose of amphetamines in your system.

If you do take amphetamines your doctor may suggest your symptoms are caused by them, so if you do approach your doctor with data from a heartrate monitor I recommend taking a medication holiday first. A full detox is approximately 3 days, but even skipping a day will make a noticeable difference in the data.

If you think you may have POTS there are some things you can do right now to improve your quality of life.

Get more electrolytes. Gatorade, pickles, SALT

Compression stockings. The best ones are that go all the way up to your midsection—pantyhose style. Thigh high is pretty good too. Even just the sock style can help though so get what you're able to access. There are three main pressure levels, the second level will generally be what most people need, but if your symptoms are more severe you may need the highest level. Keep in mind these will be much harder to put on. Get yourself some of those gardening gloves with the rubber coating, they help a lot.

Pop a squat. This will immediately drop your heartrate back to resting rate and it will stay there as long as you're in this position (it doesn't work like this for normies lol)

Get yourself a shower chair and take cooler showers

If washing yourself is a major chore don't be afraid to use an electronic scrubber! I've heard there are some specifically for exfoliating but honestly I've just been using one meant for scrubbing my shower and put a soft pad on it. Works like gangbusters!

I'm running late so I'll leave it here, but my asks are always open if anyone has questions!

Take care of yourselves.

[yharnamcrow]

We terrify the Pokécenter people here. We just came in to have a checkup for all the mons for everyone, yeah? The nurse was fine with my team, and that of Serena, Shauna, and Tierno. Also Miss Eileen, she cooed over the kittens a lot. Then came the Gascoignes, and her distinct discomfort 'cause their kids were phantump. They got paperwork to prove it and all that, but she clearly wasn't prepared for it.

And then. THEN we had the other three of our troop. Trevor with Endling. The poor nurse was paler than a gardevoir. But everyone's healthy there. Even if Endling apparently has a resting heartrate of three beats a minute.

Mr. Djura and Entei were not much better for her. She was also sneezing. I think she is allergic to Entei fur. Makes me wonder how many people are allergic to legendaries but never learn it. Entei is healthy too, but maybe needs better dental care. Mr. Djura was writing down dental treats on his shopping list while the nurse said that. He has terrible handwriting.

And then we had Mr. Henryk and Izra. Izra barely fit into the center. We had to do that examination outside, and the nurse didn't believe him when he said that Mudball isn't a Pokémon. But Potions and stuff don't work on her, they only make her sneeze. Anyways, uh. Izra. Healthy as a mudsdale. Also too electrified to be put into a center healing machine. Even in its pokéball. The nurse clocked out after we were out of the center and promptly went to a nearby bar, so I think she wasn't trained to deal with the Legendaries.