#What makes it worse is its the tooth that went. Into my gum

[strat0sfear]

i think i split apart my fucking tooth.

[brutal-nemesis]

Silence Day 2022: Hitting the Nail on the Head

Many people over the centuries have tried their own unique ways of Shut The Fuck Up, Castys. Here is one of the many such instances, set in an AU for Personal Reasons ❤

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: hammering nails into a guy, mouth whump (not teeth, but tooth whump mentioned), some tongue whump, choking (on a liquid), burns

Everything about this was, in Castys’s opinion, incredibly generic. Cold metal table, check. Tight ropes around his wrists and ankles, check. A handful of dudes smirking down at him, one brandishing a hammer, check. The rope over his forehead was new, he supposed. Ooh, another twist, they were taking the fucking gag off.

“Afternoon, everyone. What fun game are we gonna play today, huh?”

The one holding the hammer waved it in the air a little. “We’re gonna finally shut you up for good, Black.”

“Aw, you gonna knock all my teeth out instead of pulling them to use as your stupid gambling chips? You know people don’t need teeth to talk, right?” Castys was sure that wasn’t it, but, what, were they gonna break his jaw or something? They said for good, but that shit would heal so he didn’t-wait was that a fucking-

“You’ll see, so just hold still, you fucking cockroach. Wouldn’t want to mess it up and make us start over, would you? You can’t be that stupid.” Hands descended on his face, pulling his upper lip back, holding his mouth closed, pressing the point of a fucking nail to his gums. Castys couldn’t make remarks at them anymore, just stuck breathing heavily through his nose as the person holding the hammer got it lined up, shifting their grip on the nail, raising the hammer, smirking, saying something he couldn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears, and then, finally, dreadfully, swinging the hammer down. 

Castys jerked against the restraints as the bright little point of pain in his upper jaw tore open into a scorching sun, blinding and so intense and definitely nowhere near done getting worse. He barely had time to take a breath before the hammer fell again, and now he was definitely screaming, and he couldn’t even feel the hands on his face anymore because all that existed was pain, that and the sound of the slightly rusted metal scraping its way through his jawbone. A third swing and the nail punched through completely, the sharp point digging into his tongue where it had been resting on the roof of his mouth, just his fucking luck. Each successive hit of the hammer drove the nail further in, scraping against the roof of his mouth, more and more blood gushing out, pooling in his throat, choking him, each pointless cough making him jerk uselessly against the hands holding his head still, driving the pain gripping his face further and further beyond the plateau he’d thought it reached.

And then it stopped. The pain didn’t stop, no, not in the slightest, but the hammer stopped coming down, the nail stopped digging further in, the hands stopped holding his jaw shut. He tried to turn to the side and cough out some of the damn blood, but the rope across his forehead made that very super difficult so he gave up and just coughed it up into the air, which went about as well as he expected, which was not well at all. Before he could say anything cool and funny, which would have taken a while because he could not think of anything cool and funny to say at the moment, his jaw got slammed shut again, momentarily pinching the tip of his tongue between his teeth, because he needed more blood in his fucking mouth. On the bright side, he didn’t really feel it because Wow The Nail In His Face Hurt A Whole Lot. And judging by that prick on the gums of his lower jaw, he was about to get another one!

He kind of had a guess as to where this was going. Like, the whole thing in general, since he was very certain where the next nail was going to go, because it was-fuck yup yup there it was making its merry little way through his mandible bit by large bit and he was so smart this time and kept his tongue well away from the bottom of his mouth which was about the only conscious movement he could make at the moment because the rest of him was far to squirm-around-in-pain but it paid off it did the nail didn’t poke his tongue until it did because now it was burrowing into the base of his tongue which he couldn’t really help wasn’t that delightful this was all so delightful and fun and didn’t hurt like he was being injected with acid that was also on fire they were just nails why did they hurt so much maybe it was the fact that they were around his tooth-nerves it sort of felt like tooth pain now that he thought about it but it was hard to think about anything well not hard to think exactly just hard to focus he kept jumping around from one thing to the next in his head trying to think about something that wasn’t the nails or the pain or the screams trapped in his throat or the ropes tying him down or the hands holding his jaw closed or the fact that he was alone here now and might never see-

Hey, pay attention, they were saying something, holding up a thin metal wire, bringing it towards his mouth, wrapping it around the nails, pulling tight, tight, so tight that his teeth were pressed together uncomfortably hard, and then there was some device he didn’t recognize, sort of like a gun, pressed against the wire, against his teeth, and it was hot, burning, scorching, he couldn’t breathe in and out fast enough, eyes squeezed shut as tears leaked out, fists clenched, stomach twisting, he was stuck, trapped here in this awful, agonizing moment, fire piercing his every nerve, and maybe the hands left his face, or maybe they just weren’t gripping him as tightly, and the fire might be calming down, quieting, growing more dull, more tolerable, his breathing slowing…

Castys pried open his eyes and glared up at the people surrounding him, who all looked way too fucking pleased with themselves. One of them patted his cheek. “Well, Black, how’s it feel? Got anything to say?” Castys tried to open his mouth, but even attempting to move his jaw shot infinitely more awful pain needles into his entire face, so he just ended up wincing as they all laughed at him. 

“Now you’ll be all quiet and well-behaved like your late buddy Red, won’t you?” another one jeered.

“Best of both worlds, even if he’s not as pretty.”

“Hey, he’s a lot prettier with his stupid annoying mouth shut!”

Castys wanted nothing more in the world than to bite all of these fuckers like a rabid bat but instead he got to lie there and be quiet as they made all their dumb comments and pulled on his stupid long hair and poked at his face, which definitely did not hurt like hell. Eventually they got bored, thank fuck, and Castys didn’t resist much as they dragged him back to the cell and shoved him inside, hard enough that he fell to his knees. Sighing, he forced himself to his feet and walked a few steps, plopping down on the edge of the bed. He was glad that shit was over, but now he was…

Reluctantly, Castys reached up to tug at the wire tying the nails together. He knew it wasn’t gonna come off, but he still had to try. Yup, stuck, all melted together by a dot of metal that was still pretty warm to the touch and tangled around the nails stuck in his fucking skull. Maybe he could-ouch no no nope, not gonna be able to pull those out. At least, not without some pliers or something, if he would even be able to do it to himself. Giving up for now, he sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, curling up against the wall on the corner of their…his bed. 

The sounds of the jungle outside were the same as ever, but the cell was so…quiet. It had been ever since…and now he couldn’t even talk to himself or sing badly or say weird things to the guards outside he just had to be…silent. He supposed he could bang on the walls or something, but he wasn’t really in the mood. All he really felt like doing right now was being quiet, just like his fucking captors wanted, so hooray for them, they fucking won, whatever, but it wasn’t because of the nails, he just…

There was only one person he wanted to fill this silence, and he wasn’t here anymore. Might never come back.

So, for now, and maybe forever, it was quiet.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen

[impaladolan]

Control Freak - Grayson Dolan

summary: after Choff production lines CEO (finally) retires, a new boss makes his way into Y/N’s world..

warnings: sexual references/undertones

a/n: another Grayson series, i can’t help myself :)) enjoy!! also, ily <3

Ugh, he was in one of his moods again.

The office cubicles were hastily bustling with nervousness and terror. At any given moment, the infuriated man, so-called boss, will be bursting through the double doors with a dark red tint across his cheeks and maybe even smoke out of his ears, if you're lucky.

Mr. Kidman has never been good with the whole "patience is a virtue" thing, he's a ticking time bomb at all hours of the day. Nothing ever satisfies him, nor remotely excites him, he just finds something to yell and scream about at some poor unfortunate soul and then continues his merry day. But today, he was furious. He had no empathy for anyone, even his favorite two little secretaries that wear push-up bras like a side-job. Apparently someone had brought him the wrong breakfast order and everything just went downhill from there.

Unlike all the others, you seemed calm and composed amongst all this mayhem, but only because you, and maybe two others, knew that 'Old Angry Kidman' was finally retiring. Yep, freedom at last. Well, unless the new guy, or girl, has terrible anger issues.

So you just sat at your clean and pristine desk, typing another draft and adding it to the plentiful piles saved on your work computer, while soundlessly chewing on a mint piece of gum that substituted for the absence of a tooth brushing the morning of. But your quick finger movements were hushed once Mr. Kidman, as predicted, flew straight through the doors with his signature fiery red face and sweat droplets dotting his thinning hairline. "Every body fucking up! I've fucking had it with all of you." He demands, majority of the room raising from their seats with caution. With his teeth tightly gritted and his lips in a fine line, he swirls his index finger in the air, motioning to all of his terrified workers.

"If it were my fuckin' decision, I'd have each and everyone of you pieces of shits fired and on the streets in point ZERO-TWO seconds. You all are fucking lucky that this is my last day here, son's of bitches." A man of few nice words, that he is. The nicest thing you've ever heard him say was thank you, and that was two years ago. His vulgar and aggressive attitude truly brings the worth of working this job down. If it weren't for the good pay and lack of any other remotely feasible company jobs, you would've quit a long time ago.

But alas, you still endure the inevitable fiery reign of his obstructive wrath on the daily.

-

Dolan is his name.

The new boss, that is. That's the only information you and the rest of the staff knew, besides that he's a male. He hasn't shown up for work yet, or even formally introduced himself. Hell, you don't even know what he looks like. But you were certainly nervous for his arrival.

What if he's just like Kidman, or worse?

It most certainly made you nervous to think that this new guy could ever be worse than Kidman. You were hoping and praying that the he'd at least value his workers and employees.

Everyone, on your office floor, was anticipating the days and hours of his big arrival. No one was certain of when he was going to show up, or if. But nonetheless you were one of the most nervous ones. You held the highest title among your coworkers, except CEO of course, but you were pretty up there when it came to business standards. Everyone seemed to like you as well, your kind nature and natural non-brutal attitude sure did make up for other people's. Of course, you didn't really have an office of your own, because you enjoyed the time spent with the people around you. You truly loved the relationship and humbleness you gained from it. At least you weren't a snotty bitch, right?

There were plenty of little rumors around the workspace that you'd become the new (and improved) owner of this whole entire manufacturing company. Specifically a well known fashion line, Choff. The floor that you, and many of the other leading workers, were on was basically the information database. But from time to time, you'd find yourself strolling through the other, more clothing/model filled areas. Just to see how things were flowing.

Which is actually what you're doing in this moment; running your fingers along the racks filled with hangers that held all the fitted clothing items. It seemed like fun to be down here, measuring and sewing the different outfits to the men and women, but it also seemed stressful. Everyone's always in a rush, with their exploding New York accents and their flailing around all over the place. It's pretty amusing to watch from afar, but you'd be scared to get in anyone's way. They'd probably just run you over and continue their day unaffected.

With that thought in mind, you abruptly come to a stop when you run into the muscular backside of someone, startling you from your stare on the tiled flooring. You uttered a few apologies, taking a step back and straightening your pencil skirt from its newfound wrinkles.

"Lost, darling?" Your eyes trail the floor before you until they're stuck on a pair of shiny dress shoes, attached to a pair of long legs and a broad chest. Your eyes finally landed on the remarkably handsome face, of someone you didn't quite recognize. It wasn't uncommon to stumble across unknown employees, but could it be him?

"Frankly, no." You shortly answer, studying his jaw-dropping features. He was indubitably perfect, without a doubt. With a nicely trimmed beard decorating his beautifully shaped jawline, and big hazel eyes that stared right back at your own, he seemed unearthly. Like he was God's favorite angel sent down from heaven, just to show you a glimpse of what it'd really be like inside the pearly gates. "Are, um, you?" You weren't exactly nervous, just mystified. His recent smile grew into what seemed to be a smirk, while his right side's dimple grew more prominent.

"I'd like to say that I'm not, but I sadly am." He shrugs with a chuckle, sending a wave of unbeknownst pleasure through your ears and fluttering down your spine, until the ends of your toes were satisfied with his deep and raspy voice. "Could you maybe show me around this gigantic place? I've been in need of assistance for the last hour or so." He questions you, dropping his shoulders back and letting his eyes roam your stature before drifting to the interior of the long hallway the two of you are currently standing around in. "I very well could, but I have a dreadful meeting to attend to within the next five to ten minutes." Actually, the meeting was in fifteen minutes. You just simply wanted to see the man's reaction, which wasn't what you though it'd be;

"Perfect, I'll be in attendance for that as well. If you'd so kindly lead the way, I would most appreciate it." He smoothly negotiated, stuffing his right hand, which was tightly wrapped with an expensive looking watch, into his pocket with another grin. He seemed very eloquent with his words and the way he addressed things, it has to be him?

"Do you mind me asking of your name?" You began as you started your trek back to where you came from, your heels quietly clicking from beneath you as you lead the way, him following close behind. "Dolan, Grayson Dolan." He quickly answered. Indeed you were right in thinking he was the new (and maybe improved) CEO of all Choff productions. "New head guy?"

He only nods, to yet another one of your endless questions. "And what's your name, darling?" He asks as the two of you stop at an elevator, his quick hand beating yours to clicking the slightly worn down button. "Y/N Y/L/N, direct head management under you." You relay before boarding onto the empty elevator, the doors closing moments after the two of you were stood side by side. You fidget with the ends of your skirt, staying as calm as possible under his stare that you couldn't help but shrivel under.

"Under me, huh?" You almost gulped at the sound of his double meaninged phrase. Smart guy, hm? Your heart started beating a bit faster the more you thought of his little statement. Your mind became a whirlwind of visuals and fantasies before you could even stop it. Just those two little words had made you all sorts of a mess, and he hasn't even done much of anything. "Don't get too worked up darling, we have a meeting to attend." He chuckles as he steps off the elevator that had opened only seconds ago. You just scoff, your cheeks reddening as you stride right past him, maneuvering through the expanse of people that had just left the staff room, in order for the upcoming meeting to advance.

The moment you were sat in the room and time had passed to where everyone had finally shown up, you felt that lingering feeling of eyes on you. A pair of hazel eyes to be exact, who was sat far from you at the end of the long table. For meeting him not too long ago, he sure did seem comfortable around everyone. It was entirely too soon for you to be liking him already, better yet imagining different scenarios with him as someone boringly rambled. You decided that you'd forget him for the time being and focus on your job, as much as possible.

Though it would be granted as difficult as time moved on..

"That's the conclusion of this meeting. I thank everyone for being here, and I especially appreciate your appearance, Mr. Dolan. I'm happy to say that things around here will continue a lot smoother than it did in the past. And I know most others would agree." Burt Wallace, one of the coordinators, concluded after standing from his seat to dismiss everyone with a nod. While everyone dillydallied in conversations with one another, you in the other hand, hustled straight out of that room and towards the same elevator you had used earlier. The moment you clicked the button, the doors opened wide and you hopped in, tucking yourself in the corner while you gained your breath. You smile to yourself at the successful 'escape' from any questions or perhaps a witty comment from a certain CEO on the loose.

You sigh happily to yourself, watching the doors close again until a hand is stuck between them, pushing them straight back to reveal the man you were somewhat avoiding. "Care if I join you again?" He asked, but he still entered otherwise, clicking one of the many buttons to make the door close. "Did I have a choice?" You almost scoff, feeling his shoulder brush against your own as he stood in the same spot he had previously stood in. "Nah, not really, but I like to seem like a little bit of a gentleman." He answers, the roll of your eyes substituting for the internal scoff that you hadn't let out. The two of you rode in silence for what seemed to be eternity, only the faint sounds of your breaths being heard. As soon as the elevator door clanged and opened, you made a beeline out of there and hustled toward your organized workspace like there was a snake chasing you.

"What's the rush?" Ana Rita, one of the only tolerable women in this entire building, asked as you ducked under your desk. Even though you hadn't looked back to check, you had a feeling he'd follow you, or worse, ask you to meet him in his office. You weren't exactly sure why you were hiding from him, he seemed pretty nice. But he truly intimidated you. Not in a competitive way, more so a physical way. "And why the fuck are you down there?" The redhead crinkled her brows as she looked down her long nose at you. "Just, shhhh!" You bellow quietly, covering your pursed lips with your index finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hot man, six o'clock! Get your ass out of there!" She violently whispered at you, frantically tidying herself for the "hot man," presumably Mr. Dolan as you had predicted, approached your desks. You tightly hug your knees from under your desk, praying to god that he wouldn't somehow see you. "After noon, sir, may I help you?" You cringe at the seductive tone lined in her voice, something that Mr. Dolan unfortunately probably gets a lot of. "I'm looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I have some issues to discuss with her." Yet again, his girthy voice made you sigh with comfort. It's extremely calming to listen to.

"She's actually right here—" Ana, the little asshole she is in this moment, points straight at you as you plead with your eyes and shake your head vigorously. You suddenly see his handsome head peer over at you, his brows scrunched with confusion. "Uhm, cords were messed up, gotta fix them." You awkwardly chuckle, patting the outlet box stuffed with all your monitor's cords. You bring yourself out from below your desk as the two stared at you, dusting your front side and settling down in your office chair with a nervous smile.

"I'd like to have a word with you, in my office."

(masterlist)

[alolowrites]

Everyone’s Got a Sweet Tooth!

Summary: Bakugou hates sweets. You don’t think this is true and begin a mission to discover his favorite candy. After all, you are the brilliant Candy Master who won’t stop until Bakugou’s sweet tooth is satisfied.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m so glad I was finally able to write a full fic for Bakugou; it’s been so long. Originally, this was supposed to be for the bingo event, but had trouble fleshing out the story’s direction. I really wanted to write this story since the plot was hilarious to me, idk why. 

Please enjoy!

10.30.21 UPDATE: HI!!!!! I went back and edited the heck out of this baby since it’s my favorite Bakugou story I’ve written. I hope it is now decent lmao. Happy Halloween!! 

Word Count: 2.4K+

“Katsuki, what is the meaning of all this?!”

“The hell are you talkin’ bout?”

“This!” 

You marched with purpose and plopped down on the couch where he sat. Bakugou remained unfazed, clicking on the remote control. He mindlessly surfed through the channels with an attention span of an HR recruiter combing through a mountain pile of resumes. Stupid sitcoms, fake ass “reality” tv shows, QVC advertising their products like it's Black Friday all day, every day. Bakugou frowned—why does he pay so much for these useless channels? 

His eyes teared away from the screen as the phone waved frantically on his left. 

You huffed. “According to Maximus Heroes, you—and I quote—‘bleeping hate sweets!’”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Damn idiots censored my words.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“That you hate sweets!” 

You viciously smacked a pillow at him, ignoring his yells. Bakugou snatched the weapon with a growl. For a soft pillow, it felt like a firm foam roller. You stood up and paced around, arms flailing in the air. 

“How can my boyfriend say such a thing?!” You pointed at your signature black top hat. “Do you know who I am? I’m the lovable Candy Master, CEO of the Candy Basket Factory!” 

Bakugou shrugged. “So?”

“So, you can’t say you hate sweets!” You gripped your chest, sniffling a bit. “I feel as though I’ve been betrayed.”

“Would you sit your ass down?” 

Bakugou tossed the pillow at you and crossed his arm; he was too tired to deal with this nonsense. Somehow the QVC channel looked more appealing now. You begrudgingly plopped on the couch, a small pout growing on your face. Bakugou snuck a glance and sighed, tossing the remote aside. 

“Are you seriously so upset about this?” Instant regret flooded through his mind as he remembered that ridiculous day. “It was a freakin’ answer to a stupid question in a stupid celebrity article.” 

“…maybe…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. You took off your signature hat and examined it; the hat was firm yet soft and had three peppermint candies artistically attached like a beautiful brooch. You moped silently for an eternity until an exciting idea rushed into your mind. Bakugou jumped as you squealed, his mouth ready for snarl, but you beat him to the punch. 

“I got it!” Two hands eagerly cupped his sharp cheeks, your whimsical eyes meeting his feral ones. They did nothing to damper your beaming smile. “You don’t hate sweets; you just haven’t found your favorite candy!”

Bakugou grabbed your wrist yet didn’t pull them away. Another giggle rang throughout the living room as you shot up from the sofa. A specific look crossed your face—one that both irked and frightened Bakugou to no end; he was through dealing with your shenanigans. 

“Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, the answer is no!”

“Too late! The mind is churning,” you piped, taking a cheerful step toward the doorway. Spinning on your heel, you gave a hat tip to Bakugou and declared, “I won’t rest until that sweet tooth of yours is satisfied!” 

Yup, it was too late. Bakugou had no choice but to go along with this dumb idea. Closing his eyes, he slammed a pillow over his face and screamed.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Ground Zero’s hero agency was buzzing with life. Phones rang off the hook, yet all were answered to avoid the voicemail machine. Interns carried endless stacks of papers, their dying arms begging for relief and fingers stinging from brutal paper cuts. The afternoon shift sidekicks clocked in their arrival while the morning ones yawned out the door.

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, just how Bakugou liked it. He took great pride in this, hiring only the best and brightest. However, none of them held a candle against him—the number two pro hero. Unfortunately, being a prominent hero brought lots of reports he needed to sign.

And he was not excited about this.

“Um, sir?”

“Damnit, Small Head,” Bakugou growled, halting his pen’s movement. Fiery eyes glared at the man peeking around the ajar door. “If you bring me another paper to sign, I will stab this pen in your damn eye!”

“I-I assure you that I bring no reports, sir!” Kioshi, Bakugou’s personal assistant, waddled inside the office, fixing the tie that was strangling his neck. He slid a peculiar package toward his boss and bowed his head. “You have a special delivery from the Candy Master.”  

Bakugou scrunched his eyebrows. On his desk was a white box with an orange ribbon wrapped neatly in the upper left corner. A tiny card sat underneath it, and with closer inspection, had his first name written across in gold letters. Bakugou shooed Kioshi away, waiting to hear the door close to ensure absolute privacy.

At first, Bakugou had a mini stare-down with the gift. When it didn’t burst into flames, he sucked his breath and snatched the card. Bakugou turned it around to read the following message:

Everyone knows you got a sour attitude, but only I get to see that sweet side of yours. Figured these treats might do the trick. I made them just for you!

Enjoy,

C.M

P.S. These are an ~exclusive~ batch from my top-secret collection! So hush-hush!

Bakugou snorted at your writing, tossing the card aside and opening the box. His eyes narrowed at the vibrant gumdrops nestled above the black tissue paper. White sugar lightly coated the green and orange candies, each twinkling under the natural light that shined through his large window. A smirk curled on his lips; the whole package reflected his hero costume.

“Let’s see how good these are.”

Bakugou ate the green gumdrop. It was chewy and sour, the lime flavor making him twitch a bit. The sweetness kicked in ten seconds later. Bakugou tried the orange gumdrop next, and the acid was strong too but enjoyable. He soon devoured the entire box in one sitting.

Once that was done, he marched out of the office to start his daily patrol. It didn’t take long for a stupid thug to cross his path. Bakugou slammed him against the concrete wall, hauling him up with just one hand. The man trembled in fear but stopped squirming and cocked his head to the side, dumbfounded. 

Bakugou growled. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Your tongue...it got weird colors, man.”

“Eh? The fuck are you talking ‘bout?” 

Bakugou peeked at his reflection on the store’s window. He recoiled when he saw the horrible swirls of green and orange covering his tongue. A vicious scowl crossed Bakugou’s face, his iron grip tightening around the thug’s collar. The guy’s high-pitched yelps fell on deaf ears. 

“Fuckin’ gumdrops!”

They were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“I don’t want it.”

“But, sir, the gift—”

“I know who it’s from, and I’m telling you no.”

“Sir,” Kioshi gripped the massive, cherry red treat in his hand. A black ribbon with long strings almost reached the floor. The assistant sighed. “It’s just a lollipop.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ baby to ya?” Bakugou crossed his arms, refusing to budge on his childish decision. The irony made Kioshi roll his eyes mentally. “Give it away or something. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir…”

Lollipops were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Another day, another gift Bakugou received from you.

They came sporadically and kept the hero on his toes. He never understood why you sent the gifts directly to his office; you both lived in the same apartment for crying out loud! Worst of all, he could never get a single hint on what candy he would receive next. Every time he asked—or more accurately, demanded—you shot him a coy smile and purred, “Ah, ah, ah! It’s a surprise!”

Bakugou wanted to rip his eyeballs out.

However, he reluctantly played along with your stupid game. Whenever Kioshi entered his office, Bakugou masked his slight interest with the usual scowl. If the assistant didn’t bring candy, then Bakugou blamed him for interrupting his private time. The anger was worse if Kioshi brought more reports for him to sign.

Kioshi was thankful for the days when a new candy gift arrived.

Unfortunately, the last three gifts were complete failures. The first was the strawberry licorice, which dangled in Bakugou’s hand. He took a few bites and complained that he was eating a rubber wheel. Next was a bag of colorful gummy worms. Bakugou shoved a couple in his mouth and swore he felt one of them move on its own. Finally, there was the lemon green jawbreaker; it was the size of a baseball. One look and Bakugou shouted over the phone: “You tryna give me dentures?!”

All three candies were crossed off the list. Still, you didn’t give up and sent another gift to Bakugou. He read the simple message on the card:

Chew and blow to your heart’s content, babe!

Love,

C.M

P.S. I promise this won’t change the color on your tongue, haha!

Bakugou opened the sleek, rectangular box and found a bubble gum packet inside; there were three thin pieces. He slipped one in his mouth, surprisingly pleased with the bold raspberry flavor hitting his taste buds. Bakugou skimmed the card again and did as instructed—he chewed.

Typically, an ordinary bubble gum would lose its flavor after five minutes. But the flavor in your gum only got juicier; it encouraged Bakugou to continue chewing. He then blew a tiny bubble before popping it in his mouth. Not bad, he thought as another bubble expanded in front of him. His chews became more aggressive, and the bubbles more prominent than the previous ones. Stupidly, he puffed out a massive bubble, and it grew…

…and grew…and grew until there was a loud pop.

Bakugou’s roars shook the entire building, spilling cold tea all over Kioshi’s shirt. 

Bubble gum was crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Everything was going well down at the Candy Basket Factory. People lined up outside for the magical tours that ran every hour. Kids bounced off the walls as if they were on a sugar rush while their parents felt a migraine pounding on their heads. Inside the factory, the ceilings were high, and the walls were vibrant like the sun. Laughter rang from every corner as employees chit-chatted about their daily lives; they were relaxed yet efficiently worked to the same drumbeat.

A soft smile crept on your face. You were glad everyone was happy; it was the driving force behind your factory’s joyful spirit. Eventually, that spirit would leave these doors and touch billions of people’s hearts with your precious candies.

Just as you closed your eyes, someone barged into your office and barked your name. You chuckled, spinning the leather chair around to meet a furious Bakugou. His nostrils flared like a bull, and his menacing eyes looked ready to kill. However, the gum’s blobs stuck on his porcupine blonde hair squashed the pro hero’s intimidating aura.

“You—”

“—I’m so sorry, boss!” Nozomi panted into the room, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s quite alright, Zomi!” You chirped without breaking Bakugou’s intense eye contact. “I can handle him. Please let everyone know I’ll be busy with an important meeting.”

Nozomi bowed and closed the door behind her. Bakugou wasted no time complaining, his hands slamming on your desk. 

“Quit sending me your cavity-infested garbage! I’ve had it with this fuckin’ game.”

“Oh, come on, babe!” You rolled forward and rested your chin on your gloved hand palm. “Can’t I just send my dashing boyfriend some sweet gifts? Get it!” You jokingly slapped his forearm. “Because candies are sweet? Man, I crack myself up at times…”

“You’re insufferable.”  

You winked at him. “But that’s what you love about me!”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and looked away. A light blush tainted his cheeks; he hated how right you were. You walked around the desk and stood beside him, wiping off the fairy sugar dust on his shirt. He probably barged through the sample stand near the entrance, scaring off the poor intern. 

“Alright, alright.” You gave a gentle pat. “Sorry for going a little overboard with the gifts. I was just excited about finding your favorite candy! I don’t want you hating them.”

Bakugou’s anger subsided. “Why is this so damn important to you?”

“Because I love spreading endless joy through sweets.” 

The answer was simple and innocent. Bakugou blinked and was taken aback by the gentleness in your eyes. 

“Candy makes everyone happy,” you chirped. “Knowing someone’s favorite candy helps me bring their smile back whenever they’re upset or lost. Can’t have the world be all mopey now, can we?”

Your fingers hovered above Bakugou’s head. The gum moved under your command and floated in the air. You flicked it into the trash bin with ease, and Bakugou murmured a quick ‘thanks’ under his breath. After ruffling his hair, you suddenly remembered something sitting on your shelf. Bakugou stared at the small pyramid of chocolate truffles coming toward him.

“I made these babies a few minutes ago,” you said, eying the plate with a proud grin. “Normally, I do a taste test and then send the gift if it satisfies my expectations. But, I got a feeling you’ll love them.”  

Bakugou’s face was unreadable. You gave him a gentle nudge and encouraged him to take one. He sighed before picking a chocolate truffle; it was warm and soft, the cocoa powder dusting his fingertips. After suspiciously staring at the truffle, he ate the entire thing in one go. His eyes widened as all the flavors exploded at once. The crushed red pepper flakes, the hints of rich cinnamon and orange zest, and the bittersweet dark chocolate made from the finest quality found on Earth all danced perfectly together with every bite. 

“So…” You placed the plate on the desk, watching Bakugou swallow the truffle down. “What do you think? Give me your honest opinion! Don’t sugarcoat it, haha! I’m on fire today!”

Bakugou turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You hugged his bicep with a pout. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just tell me if you liked the chocolate truffles.”  

“They’re good.”

Your smile grew. “Good enough to be your favorite?”

“Sure,” he smirked, shoving another truffle into his mouth. You cheered on the spot after weeks of constant failures. Of course, some of the complaints were nonsense which didn’t surprise you. Bakugou was a picky bastard; the lollipop fiasco served as a great example. You were glad he thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles.

Before you walked away, Bakugou pulled you close to him and crushed his lips on yours. He caught you off guard, but the surprise was certainly welcomed. You soon melted into the kiss after tasting the rich dark chocolate and spices on his lips. Bakugou’s arms snaked around your waist as your hands gripped his broad shoulders.

“You know,” Bakugou’s hot breath tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I got a new favorite candy.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, a coy smile plastered on your face. 

“Let’s hope it satisfies your sweet tooth then, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, it will.”

After all, you were the one and only Candy Master.

As always, thanks for reading!

10.18.20 UPDATE: Story’s sequel, Gold Coins and a Gold Heart now uploaded. 

[sourbat]

I felt like exploring magtok HCs, and ended up writing this little scene/ficlet. Let me know what you guys think :D

Summary: A short scene where Magnus and Toki get out of a messy scuffle.

Rating: T for swearing, violence and reference to blood and injury

Pairing: Magnus and Toki

Magnus remembered the pit. Heck, he had told Toki more than his fair share of stories of when he dabbled in other scenes, and partook in crazed rituals that left him sore, bloody and bruised the morning after. The lights. The sweat. The energy. The late-night train rides and sneaking into tight alleys leading out of the high street and to shanty basement dwellings that pulsed bass and drum beats. The incredible sound of punk rock blasting up close, lyricists giving the orders to the crowds to unleash their bridled rage and scare away the casual listeners and tourists looking to get a taste of the underground scene. Stomping. Yelling. Heads banging, leather belts and cheap metal chain links swaying in tandem to a rapid, unforgiving beat. Boots slipping on booze or loose pins, and nostrils taking in the thick, dangerous atmosphere. His hand forming a tight, hot fist that flung into the steamy hot air, across the angry rowdy crowds or, if it came to it, straight into someone’s jaw.

Perhaps it was his enthusiasm, those nostalgic tales where he was younger and the hero of his own tale that lead to Toki inviting him closer to the stage, into the raging swell of drugged and drunken thrill seekers. And though Magnus entered the compacted club already so overwhelmed by the flashing red stage lights, bodies fighting at the door, for a seat or spot at the bar, and music amplified to its max, when Toki asked him to join him in the mosh pit, Magnus happily obliged.

Somehow, he forgot the pain, and it wasn’t until he was too far deep, lost in an entanglement of dangerous bodies that crashed and slammed into his older, frailer self, did Magnus finally recall the wet snap of a broken nose, the icy-hot sting of cracked, torn knuckles, and the agonizing, nauseating migraine that almost always arose after taking several blows to the face the following morning.  The first rough bump startled him, but he thought he could regain a better sense once he had his footing. An elbow to his side hindered a chance for recovery, and someone shoving him into a bystander, heads colliding, made things worse. Magnus was still on his hands and knees when someone pulled him up and decked him in the cheek. No time to explain himself, just a fist bashing into the side of his head. The booming of the music throbbed along with the blurring vision, and as he stumbled back, heard Toki’s vicious war cry.

They put up a good fight. He did as well as an old bastard could, tagging himself free of any responsibility shortly after a nasty ringed fist to his mouth earned an unsatisfying snap from within. After that, Magnus let Toki finish the job, and pondered the extent of his damage, and when exactly he became too old for this sort of thing before blacking out.

He regained consciousness a few minutes later. They were in a gated alleyway right outside of the club. Toki helped him lean against the wall before making a turn for his phone. Magnus rubbed his aching temples, listening to Toki’s short call and learning they’d have a ride in just a few minutes.

“Wowee, that was something,” he said through a stuffy nose. He picked up on how odd he sounded and, through teary eyes, pressed his finger against his nostril and snorted out a ball of congealed blood and mucus. Lovely.

Both stared at the fat glob, giving it an appropriate moment of silence out of respect for its size and composure.

“Thanks for your help,” Magnus mentioned once it had passed, then gently applied pressure around his nose with his forefinger. He was hot to the touch, and the skin was swelling tight and thin, but it didn’t appear that his nose was broken. Thank goodness. Magnus wasn’t sure if he could afford another tooth on top of a broken nose. “You really saved my ass back there.”

“No problems.” Another forced snort, and then Toki regained his posture. “We makes a good teams.”

“Yeah, we do.”

Magnus licked his gums, then tracing a trail of blood up to the pooling hole where a tooth once lay. The location was far enough where it wouldn’t impact any new impressions, but was it far enough to stave off an expensive visit for a few months?

Thankfully, the alcohol impeded any further concern for money. A hand picked him up by the chin, and as Magnus shirked away at the slightest change of pressure, fell into a brief state of comfort at the sight of Toki’s welcoming smile.

Half his face was covered in drying blood or clots, and what wasn’t had hair sticking to it, adhered to with old sweat. Toki was red and blotchy, some parts still carrying monikers of where rings made impact. Magnus was positive Toki’s left forearm was bruised in several places, with his bicep already speckled unevenly with purple and blue. There was a bit of blood here and there, but most of it was seeping through his left nostril. Otherwise, Toki was in decent shape. He was a mess, but he survived. He did well. Better than Magnus, and he looked good doing it. Hell, bloody cheeks and snot be damned, Toki still looked good.

“You. Uhm… it was pretty hot when you kicked that guy in the nuts,” he mentioned as Toki reached to help pull him off from the wall.

“Thanks.” Toki squeezed Magnus’ arms. Then, another smile, and this time Magnus made out a bloody, cracked tooth barely holding on to the gums.

“Holy shit, Toke.” Magnus grabbed Toki and squinted his good eye to better assess the damage. “Your tooth…”

Second tooth from the front, where everyone could see. Cracked down the middle, and pushed outwards from a hemorrhaging socket. If they hurried and put it on ice, then a dentist might be able to save the tooth.

“I think your tooth is about to fall out,” Magnus stated, his slightly grim expression shifting from Toki’s shrinking grin to his confused, periwinkles eyes.

“Oh, dats all?” Toki asked back, then put his hand to his mouth. With the precision expected from a drunk, he reached into his mouth, prodded the tooth with the blunt end of his finger. The whimpers Toki’s coughed out send a nasty chill down Magnus’ back.

“Toki!” Magnus shook his head as Toki performed a pained dance in front of him. “Are you seriously trying to yank your own tooth out?”

“Yeah?”

“And lose the whole tooth?”

“Ams not a problems,” Toki said gently and with a slight lisp. “Charles gives Toki and Dethklok the best plan on accounts of all the accidentals we gets into.”

He sniffed, then wiped some of the many tears flowing down his cheeks with his shirt. Carefully, and barely patting the side with the now ailing loose tooth.

“You knows” he added, waving a pointed finger at Magnus. “You ams also on the same plans now.”

Toki noticed the missing tooth? Maybe the gape wasn’t as deep as Magnus hoped, but the promising news of a dental plan immediately grabbed his attention. He recalled the many documents Offdensen made him sign a few weeks ago to effectively be considered an “unofficial” member of Dethklok incorporated. He knew a certain amount of Toki’s insurances and privileges were extended unto him, though to what degree was still being unraveled. Of the many pamphlets sent to him the following week, were any for dental plans?

Suddenly Toki’s phone went off. The klokateers were here, ready to pick them up. A hand sticky with blood took Magnus the hand.

“Was thinking. Maybe we can gets new teeth togethers,” Toki suggested. His bloody, swollen face attempted what Magnus thought was a smile. His double-vision brought on by the migraine made it difficult to tell. But he was sure Toki just invited him on a date to see a dentist, and whether Magnus could afford it or not, his boyfriend was a billionaire.

“Yeah?” he said, trying to snicker and appear as casual about the invitation as he could. But the pulsing in his head made it difficult to stand straight, and his right eye shed some tears as a car flashed light in their general direction. He winced, but once the pain leveled, and Toki coaxed him into blindly following him though the smokers, around the gated area and back into the quiet comforts of their limo, Magnus muttered that he’d rearrange his calendar.   

“Thinks you can makes room for tomorrows?” Toki whispered into Magnus’ crown just before the gear readied a syringe loaded with delicious morphine.

Eyes closed, Magnus brushed his bruised cheek against Toki’s shoulder. “Sure.”

The needle hadn’t yet gone in when Toki placed a soft kiss on top of Magnus’ aching head. He did his best to appreciate it, but the pain proved itself too much.

“Ow.”

A nervous chuckle. “Sorries.”

[littledraga]

Cookies and Cream

@ask-the-becile-boys After far too long, I’m finally finished! Scratch needs something sweet. And Skull knows just what to do! Well, actually he doesn’t, but he knows where to start!

Scratch had been spending a lot of time in the kitchen since he had joined their mess of a home. If anyone would dare call it that. Once they had gotten him settled and figured out, Skull sent Riker out to get a blender. Guy had to eat, and he wasn’t going to go far with ramen broth.

He knew the cheapest fruits and vegetables already, which made making sure he had enough, a lot easier. It wasn’t long until his experiments had trickled over to Riker. It was the healthiest he’d ever eaten in the manor. At least until Skull teased him that maybe it would protect him from scurvy. Or maybe, he was just hiding it.

Things were fine for a while, even as Scratch got a little more adventurous with his concoctions. No matter how much he gagged, he’d finish whatever he made. Which sometimes made Skull glad he couldn’t get sick. It wasn’t a problem until Scratch’s sweet tooth took over.

Adding honey to everything seemed fine, and he was happy enough. Though Skull was sure, some of them were more honey than anything else. It was different when he caught Scratch blending up candy. Skull had to rush him to Riker when it gummed up his ventilator, and he couldn’t breathe.

“You can’t be eating like that, Scratch!” Yelled Riker once he was finished cleaning out the last of the gummy candy mix. Scratch had nearly passed out, scared them all. But before Riker could scold him any more, he shrunk back from Skull’s glare.

After a moment, Scratch sat up from the workbench, curling his knees up to his chest with a forlorn look. He tapped his pointer and middle finger to his thumb twice before putting his hands to his chin folding his fingers to his palm twice. ‘No sweets.’

Skull watched him sign and puffed a small cloud of smoke. Gently, he laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He couldn’t taste anything, didn’t even like the idea of making food. Not after, before. But Skull felt like he owed Scratch. Without him and the others, he would have been torn apart on that table, or worse. Scratch deserved better.

Desserts weren’t something he had a lot of experience in and less for things that were safe for a liquid diet. Milkshakes were safe. Sweet and smooth, so long as he didn’t add anything to it that might block Scratch’s vent. Something his old cookbooks couldn’t manage.

With an annoyed puff of smoke, he donned his hat and coat to go out for a walk. He needed more options. While he tried not to go often, sometimes the library had its uses.

It was a small run down thing, standing up on will alone. Never enough funding to keep it up, it seemed. And didn’t he know that feeling? Heading inside, he went looking for more recent cookbooks. There had to be something useful in there.

Soon as he stepped in the door, he got strange and uncomfortable looks. Pulling his coat around himself tighter, he pretended he didn’t notice. Just focus on the cookbooks. They had to be nearby, it wasn’t that big of a building.

The longer he was there, the more looks he got. Some people even started covering their faces. It wasn’t his fault he ran on coal! He hated being out in public. No matter where he went, he always got looks for the smoke curling up through his neck.

The longer he went, the more he realized he was going to have to ask for help. Skull didn’t ask for help. Only ever caused him trouble. But he needed to make something sweet for Scratch.

He worried they would be too afraid of him to talk, which of course, meant he pumped more coal smoke into the air. Which made him look even scarier. Stupid coal burning furnace, he thought to himself as he stepped up to the desk.

When the woman looked up at him and shrunk back, he tried not to sigh. More smoke still curled from his neck. “Where are the recipe books?” He muttered, trying not to look threatening.

"I'm sorry, what was that dear?" She asked, trying not to be obvious, that she was covering her face to block out the smoke.

He did sigh then and winced when she fanned the air in front of her. Swallowing thickly Skull's shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to find the recipe books, ma’am. My friend is on a liquid diet, and I want to make him something sweet.”

That made her face soften. "Ah! I see! How sweet of you!" She giggled at her own joke.

Skull tried not to roll his eyes at that and forced a smile.

“Cookbooks are in the corner over there, dear. There’s paper vegetables on the bookcases.” She pointed over his shoulder to the far end of the floor. Tucked off in the corner was a small set of shelves with food all over it.

With a small grunt and a nod, he stepped away and headed off to the little corner of the library. For such a small selection, there were more dessert books than he was expecting. Some of them even seemed almost as old as he was. Those he was afraid to touch, they would probably crumble in his grip.

Most of them were out in a glance, large chunks floating in the ice cream. They didn’t need another incident. When Scratch started to change colour, he had feared the worst. Never again.

The first option was Guinness Stout. Skull frowned. Best hide that from Riker he didn’t need to start pouring booze anywhere else. Let alone with Scratch.

More and more sweet sugary things added to milkshakes, more recipes he wouldn’t use. At least there were options. There was hope yet. Until he found an avocado. Who wanted to have a vegetable milkshake? Well, Scratch did make lots of fruit and vegetable smoothies. That was close. But no good for his hunt for sweet things.

More shakes were just adding more and more bulky chunky things. Skull was losing hope with the books. Ready to snap the book closed and march out empty handed he found one that only had cookies on top of it. Those could be removed, so long as the rest of it held up to snuff.

Cookies and Cream. Seemed easy enough. Grind cookies down into a powder. That seemed safe enough. Maybe not often, but this was a treat after all. Reading it over to make sure Skull understood before he snapped the book closed and put it back on the shelf.

It would do. Pulling the hat low on his brow, Skull headed out to get what he needed. Ice cream, cookies, milk. This would be easy. He just hoped Scratch would like it.

Or he thought it would be easy. The first time he used the blender, he forgot the lid. Cookies went flying across the kitchen, some daring to smack him in the face for spite. “Stupid, fucking blender!” He yelled, picking it up off the counter. Skull had the mind to throw the damned thing across the room. But Scratch needed it, and another blender was too expensive.

Slamming it back down, Skull brushed himself off and got ready to try again. This time he double checked the lid was on tightly. He ran the blender a little longer, just to be safe. He didn’t want to put Scratch at risk.

Next, he fumbled with the ice cream to milk ratio. At first, it hardly poured. Would he even be able to drink that? He added more milk to thin it out. Only then it looked more like flavoured milk. Milkshakes were frustrating! Just when Skull thought he got it right, someone tapped on his shoulder.

Skull jumped and nearly lost the shake he had been pouring. Turning around, he got ready to scold whoever thought it was a good idea to sneak up on him! Only to stop when he saw Scratch there, shrunk back and looking worried.

Scratch pointed to Skull before making a thumbs up and moving it in a circle. ‘Are you okay?’

At getting caught early, Skull let out a nervous plume of smoke. When Scratch took a step back, he sighed and held up the blender to show him. “I wanted to make you something sweet you could have that wouldn’t hurt ya.”

His real eye lit up when he saw the milkshake. Pointing at Skull again Scratch stacked his fists over themselves. He twisted them twice then, put a hand on his chest a moment before squeezing it twice and making a shaking motion. ‘You made me a milkshake?’ Scratch looked like he was about to cry.

Skull looked uncomfortable, but he tried to smile for him. Putting the blender down, he made a knocking motion twice with his fist. Bringing his hands up loosely in front of himself, he moved them quickly from side to side. “Yeah, I did.”

Bringing his hand to his chin over and over, Scratch was nearly dancing in place. ‘Thank you, thank you!’ The kid looked like a little kid getting candy. Which, Skull supposed, wasn't too far off.

Chuckling, Skull poured him a large glass and topped it with what might have been an excess of whipped cream. Once he had plunked a straw in it, he handed it off.

Scratch carefully took the glass before eagerly taking a long sip. Closing his eye, he stood perfectly still as he enjoyed the flavour. Happily, he looked up at Skull and rubbed his belly. ‘Yummy!’ he silently cheered.

Everything worked out just fine, Skull thought to himself. It was worth the trip to see the kid happy. Chuckling, he signed a W and curled it away from his mouth. “Yer, welcome. Figured you deserved something sweet.”

While he cleaned up, Skull was happy to chat with Scratch and try to come up with new ideas for shakes and other things he could eat.

Scratch deserved better, and he’d try.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Dental Dread

Words: 1298 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Warnings: Dental procedures described. Summary: Reader hates going to the dentist, but it’s time for their regular dental check up so they force their boyfriend Steve to go along with them to the visit. Steve, who grew up sick and around doctors most of his young life doesn’t share Reader’s mistrust of dentist and willingly tags along to comfort his significant other.  Author’s Note: I had a dental emergency yesterday and had to go the the dentist. I ended up needing three fillings and honestly the idea of Steve Rogers being at the dentist with me was the only thing that got me through it. 

Your knee bounced impatiently. The back of your legs stuck to the cheap vinyl seats of the waiting room. Your stomach was turning. You should have had something for breakfast like Steve suggested, but well it was too late for that now. You were going to die with an empty stomach. You sighed, fighting hard to expel air from behind a paper mask. A warm hand reach over and came to rest on your anxious knee. The hand grounded you back into reality. Right, you weren’t going to die. You were just being dramatic. You weren’t even sick; it was just a routine dental visit.

“It’s going to be okay, [Y/N].” Steve promised.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve already had your dental exam.” You hissed. “And I bet you passed with flying colors!”

“It’s not a contest.” Steve chuckled, but the sound was slightly muffled by his own paper mask. He enjoyed seeing this side of you. The side that was capable of fear. Steve had seen you beat up thugs twice your size and launched yourself across rooftops without a second thought, but the idea of the dentist terrified you.

“They’re going to find a cavity; I know they will.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “They always seem to find one no matter how many times a day you brush your teeth or if you floss or not. It’s a scam.” You continued to ramble, and Steve didn’t make an attempt to stop you. For once he was glad there was a mask hiding his smile. “I mean why do we even have these mandatory check-ups? Just so they can bill my insurance?”

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?” A young man called your name from a nearby door. You grabbed Steve’s hand while you tried to decide if the cartoon teeth on the hygienist’s scrubs were cute or sinister.

“I’ll be right here when you get back.” Steve vowed.

“No, no.” You shook your head. “You’re coming in there with me.”

“I don’t think they’ll let me, we’re not married…” Steve started to argue but you weren’t having it.

“Oh no, you and Tony ordered these mandatory visits. That means at least one of you has to come in and see me suffer. C’mon, Rogers.” You rose to your feet and tugged him along.

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologized to the hygienist. “I’m sure it’s against the rules but..”

“Actually, as long as the patient is fine with it, we do allow one other person in the room.” The hygienist smiled. “It tends to make our more…trepidatious patients feel more comfortable. Right this way, [Y/N].”

“I’ll be right here the whole time.” Steve said as he sat in a small rolling stool in the corner of the examination room.

“That’s too far away.” You complained.

You didn’t say much after that as the hygienist began to take X-Rays of your teeth. It was uncomfortable as he continued to wedge plastic pieces of various sizes in your mouth at seemingly random angles to get the films he needed. The only comfort during this process was the heavy lead blanket like apron he’d placed on your chest. It held you down like a vinyl coated hug. A small corner of your brain wondered if when Bruce went to the doctor or the dentist did they make him wear a lead apron. Considering the aprons were designed to protect the wearer from radiation.

“She’ll be right in.” The hygienist promised as he removed your lead security blanket.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” Steve commented from his stool in the corner.

“That’s because she didn’t start poking around with the weird fishhook thing yet.” You told him.

“I think it’s just called a dental pick.” Steve guessed.

“Well, whatever it’s called, I don’t like it.” You complained.

“Okay [Y/N], oh and Captain Rogers, a pleasure as always.” The Avenger’s dentist smiled as she entered the room. “[Y/N], your X-rays look great, I’m just worried about this molar here.” The dentist pointed to a monitor that you could barely see from the bedlike dental chair. “You see this dark area here? It seems like you might have a cavity on that tooth. So, what we’re going to do is have Andy continue with your scheduled cleaning and then I’d like to take another look at this tooth okay?”

“Uh okay.” You agreed meekly. The dentist left the room and you were alone with Steve. He expected you to start ranting again about how you were right they always find a cavity. You very well may have if you weren’t semi paralyzed with fear. The only thing worst than the fish hook tool during a cleaning was the lidocaine needle they used during fillings. You heart was racing and your stomach felt like it was twisted in an impossible knot.

You tried your hardest to disassociate through the entire cleaning. You forced your mind to think about anything else other than the scratching sound that seemed to radiate through your skull and the slight ting from the dental pick as it pulled away from one tooth an on to the next. You tried to separate your mind from your physical self. It was an admirable attempt. When at last Andy the hygienist offered you a small cup of water to rinse your mouth with you felt your heartrate slowing. That is until the Doctor returned, and you watched Andy prepare a tray of instruments for her.

The dentist decided definitively that the tooth in question did need a filling. The thought alone had you gripping the arms of the chair until you left crescent shaped marks on the undersides of them. You knew it would do no good to protest, avoiding the cavity would only make it worse. So you nodded and said nothing.

“I can hold your hand, Doll.” Steve offered. “Do you think that would help?”

“Please.” You breathed, trying not to sound too childish. So, Steve wheeled his stool over to your side. You reached for his hand and held it with a vice like grip.

“Alright, you’re just going to feel a little pinch.” The dentist said as she poked a needle into your gums. “Great!” Now Captain Rogers you can stay there while [Y/N] gets numbed up but once we start doing the actually filling Andy and I will need some space to work.”

“You got it, Doc.” Steve promised. “You’re doing great, [Y/N]. Steve assured you. The hard part is over now.”

“Okay, [Y/N], are you ready?” Andy the hygienist asked.

“No.” You told him honestly.

“Captain Rogers is right,” Andy agreed. “the hard part is over. Just lay back and relax, you’ll be done soon.”

The remainder of your visit wasn’t terrible. Thanks to the lidocaine you heard more than you could feel. You were almost starting to find the whirl of the dental drill soothing before the dentist removed the tool and began filling in the cavity. At last you were offered another small cup of water to rinse your mouth and then the visit was over.  

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief and shakily reached for Steve’s hand as you climbed down from the dental chair. You leaned against him for support, not exactly feeling your best. The feeling would pass, you knew that much, but as your body came down from its state of shock you felt nauseous and dizzy.

“I’m proud of you, [Y/N].” Steve said as you walked down the hall together, away from the dental office. “What do you say I take you back to your room and we snuggle under the covers. I’ll put on a movie for us and you can watch it till you fall asleep?” He offered.

“I’d say, I love you, Steve.”

[deeeelightfuldee]

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? baking definitely. I want to get more comfortable cooking.

Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? yes. I used to be pretty good at doing my brothers hair-- even the fading. But I’m sure I’ve forgotten it all by now.

Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? probably my sister or my nephews.

How many long term relationships have you been in? blegh. not many. Whenever I’d know that it didnt have long term potential, id drop it. no sense dragging out the inevitable.

Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? so for the longest time I kept my room super dark. I slept well. once miller died and kile broke my heart, I couldn’t sleep without the tv playing. I needed to hear something calming and voices talking so I wouldn’t be left with my thoughts. I still can’t turn it off.

Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? i think its easy to say “forgive and forget” but the reality is that once we have endured trauma we don’t easily forget. I think its kind of unrealistic. I’m trying to forgive kile but thats going to take.. i dont know how long. As for what it was... it was just betrayal.. lying. for six+ years. lots of laughing at me. 

Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? I like some of her songs.

Do you know your blood type? o+

Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes. its coming up. 

Have you ever been pregnant? I dont think so. I was really late after my assault but who knows.

How old were you when you first went on a plane? like 7ish

Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? Yeah, student loans. 15k feels so daunting right now.

Are both of your blood parents still in your life? One is. My mom.

When was the last time you went apple picking? highschool maybe?

Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? money.. or a trip.

Have you ever been drunk at school or work? definitely not. 

How many bedrooms are in your house? four. 

Are you smart about computers? I know some stuff.

Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? oh heck’n yeah

Do you own a Xbox 360? I had one from my brother for a little while but I traded it for the gamecube since Kile was going to send me one of the 15 he had lol. That didn’t end up happening, but its OK i really dont need more gaming.

Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? oooooooo.. probably not.

So, do you need a nap? all day is full of naps to try and get over this.

What would you rather be doing? school

What sport are you the best at? maybe volleyball or swimming

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Nope, im the baby. 

Do you complain a lot? no, i try not to. I find complaining to be the most unattractive and yet common human trait and while there are definitely situations worthy of complaining, most of the time it just makes a situation worse than it actually was.

Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? temple

Do you like fruity or minty gum? definitely minty

Are you looking forward to any day of this month? i was really looking forward to Kile’s birthday on monday, but since we arent talking anymore then there is no joy in that. all the other special dates have been ruined by covid.

Have you ever gotten detention? Nope. homeschoolers and detention arent a thing. 

Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? oh sure. heartbreak, deaths, assaults, etc.

Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? no, i can’t be super picky because not every store carries clothing long enough for me.

Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? i havent got a clue

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I mean I’m very fond of cats & dogs

Ever cried so much you threw up? this is what happened the whole 2-3 weeks following finding out about Kile.

Who is your best guy friend? I suppose now that would be Nathan

What do you two do when you hang out? drives, game nights, get food/drinks, or just talk.

What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? Her

Do you even like horror movies? not particularly. I’ll watch them if someone else wants to but its not my preference.

Do you live in the country? i live in the suburbs i suppose.

What is your favorite accent? Some southern and British accents. <same ... i have no idea how I made the font like this.

Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? Not that I can think of.

Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? diet coke

What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? my family celebrated during the day and then I think nathan took me out on the town

Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? nope.

Do you take a lot of pictures? man. this question is hard. I used to love taking pictures of myself. I had much more self confidence and some of it was because kile LOVED my selfies -- or so he said. and I just had so much fun doing that. Since the heartbreak, I’ve maybe taken 10 selfies. I just don’t have any self confidence in my looks anymore. its so different now. most of my pictures now are of other people or scenery.

What kind of face wash do you use? cerave when I want to. otherwise i use water and a very particular type of fabric. 

Does drama always seem to follow you? No, i dont think so.

Does anybody in your family race? like cars? running? no.

Are you closer to your mom or dad? My mom.

How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” I think i got it like 2x and it was a dollar.

Do you have a laptop or desktop? Laptop.

Do you like your parents? i love my mom.

Do you secretly like someone? No.

Would you ever date your best male friend? I don’t see any romantic feelings developing between nathan and I

What are you currently listening to? I have gilmore girls on.

Do you want to be single? oooof. Um. I am torn on this subject. On the one hand, i really am ready to be loved, held, protected, cared for, etc. I love the idea of building a life together with someone and us both protecting our unit. I miss supporting, cherishing, loving on someone. Yet on the other hand, im fine being single. I have so much insecurity about myself lately that I dk that anyone else needs to deal with that baggage. Idk

Did you go out or stay in last night? I stayed in. ill be staying in for some time.

Have you pretended to like someone? romantically, no. professionally, yes.

How is your heart lately? Sad. heavy. 

Are you wearing socks? not at the moment. 

What do people call you? Di, diana, dee, ana, di-nan-na, dine-uh, deenah.

Do you get stressed out easily? no, I really dont

Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? yes

What is wrong with you right now? im sick. im heartbroken.

Do you own something from Hot Topic? not that I know of. if I do, it’d be from like middle school. I never shopped there but people tended to give gifts from there.

Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? Alone. maybe I havent found the right sort of person to share a bed with.

Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No.

Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Yes, several times. 

Did you get any compliments today? No.

Have you ever gone to a beach? many many many times.

What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? not my thing. at all.

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? Yes.

Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? Yes.

Do you have long nails? they are healthy length. I want to grow them out a bit more. 

Do you like the gender you are? Yeah.

Do you generally look nice in photos? Not anymore

Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? no haha

What colour are your father’s eyes? Blue.

If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? uhhhhm, blue october

Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? maybe not anymore. 

What’s your favorite hot beverage? hot chocolate from dunkin

Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? i did. no comment.

Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? oooooohhhhhhhhh man i love both.

Do you think you’re important? I mean i offer some importance to this world but eh.

What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Hmm no idea.

Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? no

Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? No.

Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? Nope.

What was the first thing you ate today? I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday

If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? for the longest time it was to spend the day driving aimlessly and getting food and talking about everything and nothing with Kile. now, its just.. idunno. blank.

If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? I’m not doing well.

What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? There’s a few things related to school.

Is there anything that you wish you could take back? not really, no.

What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? this whole covid nonsense going away, heartbreak to soothe, and my miller back.

If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? i dont know. 

When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I just changed it up so itll be a bit.

Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? Fast.

Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ yes. several times.

How many drugs are in your system? lol lots of meds rn to kick this. usually none.

What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? the same as today.

Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? No. i dont like the idea of bite marks but hickeys were fun for a time. in not visible areas tho.

Do you call anyone baby? Not anymore.

What’s your current mood? Bleh.

What were you doing before filling out this survey? Watching gilmore girls

How late did you stay up last night? I took PM meds at i wanna say 8? maybe 7? I don’t remember.

When was the last time you cried really hard? its been a few weeks since ive cried about Kile. I’m in the numb stage.

Is your hair longer than your shoulders? hahahahahahah

[cybernightwanderer]

How whats left of me faded away, and how my first christmas home became my last : - The day my mom died. - The concept of family finally ended for me. - And how “ it doesnt get any better”.

23rd December.

These past few months i have been on psiquiatric medical leave from work due to a very severe depression thanks to the amazing workplace enviroment that has now crippled me so deeply physically and mentally, more before.

Its funny how when i try my hardest to recover and get my life back, its becomes so clear its a fucking joke.

Begining of the year i managed to fight off my mom on the money she was forcing me to pay her, and i managed to pay less from what i was paying before, and due to these medical leaves and corona, i get very little support finnancialy. I managed to save up almost 1k, i was ready to start believinng i could fix up my life. However i still pay her what i have to monthly, half the bills, 50 euros for food that i may consume at the house, and i also buy my food and my own things like i always did.

My mom has the tendancy to force me to take borrowed money she lends me.

For example mid corona time, i had to have gum surgery due to an old tooth infection, wich turned out to be 3 tooths, and i took out 2, needless to say my mom helped me with half of the apointments, i payed the surgery ones but then i needed follow up apointments so i wouldnt lose 4 more teeth. Apointments i canceled right away , beause i didnt have any money, and my mom being the mom that she is i always refuse her “ loans “ due to her being worse than a fucking stereotipical loan shark that takes that money back with interest, but in mental health and sanity. However she kept squedueling the apointments without me knowing, then tell me 1 day early, then get mad at me because id tell her i had no money so i told her to cancel and not make apointments without my consent and knowledge. This to wich she responded with screams , name calling , telling me to cancel myself and the general griefing of : “OK fine ill never help u with anything again “ / “ ok fine i dont care anymore then “, “ what you are too good to take my money is that it? “ Then when i standed my ground , proceeding to treat me miserably for the following week, demanding me to do random chores, just for the sake of punishing me , leaving dirty dishes of her own food acumulating so she could force me to do them and threaten me with a beating if i didnt, or making me wash the bathroom everyday for no reason.

With all this mess, half the money i had saved up + using it on the apointments and paying her back right away at the end of the month the consultations i owed her. I was left with 400 bucks.

Wich later on were also spent in dentist urgency apointments, because i kept having infections, psiquiatrist apointments and medicine and a laywer for the work harrassement situation, and then and there, all my money was gone.

The situation goes by, im home , receiving basic support for the medical leave, i pay my share of the bills and i do my own thing, however depression has gotten worse, my attacks have gotten worse, and everything just feels like rock bottom here.

These last 2 months, ive been trying so hard... so hard to get back on my feet, i was taking my medicine, i was taking a languague course, i was going to the doctor. I was really, really trying. Its funny how hard i was trying, for the first time in my life i was really trying to believe it could get better.

My mom was even acting nice and it almost seemed like she was really supporting me and trying.

December 23. Me and my mom go the psiquiatrist apointment for him to avaluate my condition. For the first time the apointment wasnt so heavy, it didnt leave me so weary from it. I finally believed. By the end of the consultation my doctor asks my mom to make sure i dont go back to that work place, because it might have a huge take on my life. My mom turns to the doctor and says : “ I know she cant go back , but she cant be unemployed either.” And the doctor says : “ I know, but if she goes back it can make her worse, we cant let that happend, its damaging her“ ( meaning she could kill herself, due to the last apointments conversation ) On to wich my mother replied : “ Well i cant be providing for us both with my money “.

...

When we arrived at the car i asked her why she said that and what she meant by that. And i told her that i pay for my food and that i pay for the things i eat that she buys ( wich is not much ) and that i also pay for half the bills.

To wich she agressivly threatned me to shut up and started yelling right away and acting like a victim with her mild aneurism that happend quite a few years ago in wich she HAS BEEN FULLY HEALED AND PERFECT HEALTHY, but always uses as an excuse to dodge the discussion after demanding certain shit or just plain insulting me. After a lot of lying and name calling and even telling me that i eat her food and that i live off of her. Into wich i replied, i dont always eat your food , and theres a lot of times when i dont eat and you yell at me and treat me badly for not eating your food wich led me to just eat cereals for months everyday as all 3  meals or not even eating and skipping meals for being too afraid of making my own food in the kitchen.

And so on... And i asked her what she wanted from me. And after a long car fight and a lot of gaslighting, she finnaly admitted she just wanted more money “ because if all your friends pay normal rent , you should too “ ( meaning a 450 rent ).

And then i just gave up and told her ok, ill pay you a full rent and i will also never toutch your food again. She laughed and made fun of me. And said : like ur even gonna buy your own food, you always use my things. to wich i asked what things? Oh you use my shampoo and toilet paper. To wich then i replied, everytime i buy toiler paper for me, you just take it as your own, and i dont use your shampoo or body wash i buy my own and i have been buying my own. And she just kept fighting me on it saying i do...and i told her i dont, if i by any chance dont have shampo ill use body wash as shampoo or vice versa. She just wanted to be right, so i just told her, ill pay you anything you want, i just dont wanna fight anymore im tired. To wich then she just kept saying “ oh now ur just trowing a fit “ And i sayd to her, why me agreing to what u ask and calmly shutting up to not fight anymore , how is that trowing a fit? i just gave you what you wanted, you dont need to be angry anymore.

And she just kept going at it, trying to poke my nerves until i just completly yelled and when crazy. The she acted like a victim again.

I am so drained, i am so tired....

After that discussion it was just 10 minutes of silence. I made a decision. That woman is not my mother anymore.

She wants to be a landlord so bad, she will be one.

My mother has died.

After a few minutes almost home , she decides to turn the “ mother mode “ on, and goes like “ oh you have to go to the doctor blah blah lets get your medicine etc. And i just told her, no. Ill go to the doctor on my own means, and ill buy the medicine when i have money.

Obviously she completly dismissed what i sayd and tried to drive me to the doctor and the pharmacy. After a few NO’s , she went home.

I got home, i took care of my things and i sorted out my doctors paperwork, she tries to come into my room, and acting like a worried mother like : “ oh did you do this -- etc” ( what i was already doing ) and i just told her, to stop. That she doesnt get to “ talk to me about those things anymore, or about my buisness.

Shes not my mother anymore. She doesnt get to act like a mother do just order me around and controll me. She is just a landlord now.

A few hours later, shes wrapping up presents and asks me to do it and asks me for my gifts wrapping thingies, and i told her no. Immediatly got mad at me and kept trowing provocative comments. And i told her, i didnt want any xmas gift from her, and that i wouldnt be spending xmas with her.

She made that usual smirk she mades when she sees me upset.

fast forward, the next day.

24 December

---

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: Broken

Summary: Pinky’s just trying to help, but he may have unwittingly driven a wedge between himself and his best friend in the whole wide world.

AN: Inspiration comes from skimmingsurface’s 100 Ways to Feel. Specifically, #52 Broken.

FFN Link

So many pretty dizzy swirling stars! Pinky giggled, his entire body swaying like one of those spinny tops he could never get to spin for more than a few seconds. Brain really outdid himself on this plan with the Hip-Hop Scooper Austria Protractor, even though it went kaplooey and threw them off the building.

Still, it was fun pretending to be a champion skydiver while it lasted!

“Oh that was jolly good fun!” Pinky exclaimed. The dizziness let him go, but Pinky knew it would be back soon enough. Next time, they’d play tilt-a-whirl together for sure! Pinky always forgot to suggest that game. “Do they have medals for skydiving? I think my triple doozy cartwheel was worth a bronze. What do you think, Brain? Brain?”

Pinky looked around, but there was only the burnt metal of Brain’s creation and several chipped bricks around him.

“Are you playing Marco Polo, Brain?” Pinky massaged his temple in the same way Brain often did when he pondered deep ponderings. He could really use those little invisible beings that helped Brain come up with his plans right now. “Great idea! Marco!”

“HELP!”

Oh dear. Brain needed lessons on how to play Marco Polo. It was the one of the most important games of the day alongside Chase Me and Candyland after all.

“Marco!” Pinky called again.

A nearby brick shifted onto its side, revealing part of a pink, crooked tail underneath.

Pinky gasped, rushing to the other side of the brick, where Brain laid flat on his stomach with his limbs splayed out. “Brain, are you okay? Did the fall make you forget about Marco Polo?”

Brain gritted his teeth so hard Pinky thought they’d break. The Tooth Fairy would never visit him again if he didn’t have teeth!

“Of course I know who Marco Polo is, you…you imbecile,” Brain ground out, trying to push himself up. Pinky grabbed Brain’s arm to be helpful, but Brain drew a shuddering breath and yanked his arm away. “Get this brick off my tail at once.”

Pinky’s tail tingled, like it was smooshed under a brick too. It didn’t feel nearly as good as one of Brain’s bops though.  

“Okay, Brain,” Pinky said. He pushed his entire body against the brick, taking extra care to avoid stepping on Brain’s tail. Since the brick was already lopsided, he only had to push slightly harder than he normally pushed a pencil until it landed on a different side. “All clear!”  

Brain groaned and stood up, reaching behind his back and bringing his tail closer to inspect it. The break closest to his body made a small clicking noise, and Brain winced as he carefully felt the area the brick had unkindly smashed.

Pinky flicked his own tail, feeling the wavy and waggy sweeps he could make that Brain’s stiff tail never seemed to do. Now that he thought about it, Brain really only used his tail to open the cage. It wasn’t good for jumping rope or a pretend wand that magically made his voice louder.  

It was the saddest tale of a mouse’s tail he’d ever heard. Well, except for the movie with the little Russian mouse who got separated from his parents. That was even sadder.

“Another failure,” Brain sighed, finally letting go of his tail. It snapped back into place, the tip bent at an odd angle. “No portion of the Hyperscopic Astral Projector can be salvaged. Come, Pinky. We should head back to the lab and recuperate for tomorrow night.”

“What are we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?” Pinky asked, following Brain out of the rubble. “Besides making cheese cube and chunky peanut butter sandwiches, of course.”

Brain whipped around, his fists clenching against his sides. His scowl deepened, even though Brain always scowled. But somehow it looked deeper.

“Brain, you’re all coily like a spring,” Pinky said. Nothing a quick massage wouldn’t fix though. “Not good for your shoulders. Nope. Not at all.”

He reached for Brain’s shoulders, but his hands were slapped away with a sharp smack.  

“Not in the mood, Pinky!” Brain snarled, his entire body wracked with tension. “Keep your absurd comments to yourself!”

Brain stomped far ahead of Pinky, and although he never remained out of sight for long, the distance was just too much for them to talk normally.

“Poit…” Pinky murmured to a faded poster of David Hasselhoff as he passed a Blockbuster store.

It just seemed like the only thing he could say, and Mr. Hasselhoff didn’t really offer any useful advice.

o-o-o-o-o

As soon as they got back to the lab, Pinky brought out the shared first aid kit. He hoped that a little TLC would help bring Brain’s super extra grumblyness down to normal grumblyness.

Brain scribbled angry red marks in his notebook with an equally angry red pen, slashing out a bunch of numbers arranged in a pattern that vaguely reminded Pinky of a goose. Or was it a rutabaga? Either way, Brain’s tail needed all the dinosaur bandages it could hold.

Dinosaur band-aids were happy. So were Disney Princess band-aids and superhero band-aids cause they gave him hugs on his owies and they’d stay there until it didn’t hurt anymore. But Pinky didn’t like removing them much cause that meant goodbye and the bandages never wanted to let go of his fur. So he let the bandages keep the fur they never meant to rip out as a going away gift.

Pinky opened the first aid kit, bringing out the magic salve that soothed all their aches and bumps and bruises and the dinosaur band-aids. Now if only he could pick a band-aid. That was always a toughie.

Sharpteeth’s arms were too tiny for a good hug, and longnecks and threehorns didn’t have arms at all. Flyers had wings they could wrap you in, and Pinky almost picked that, but then his hand brushed against the blue band-aid with a smiling mama swimmer and happy little baby swimmers.

A happy band-aid would give happier hugs! It was more obviouser than string cheese and chocolate pudding!

Pinky tucked the swimmer band-aid under his arm and walked over to Brain, who muttered furiously to himself as he slammed his hand against the calculator keys. Even the clacking was frantic and couldn’t be good for Brain’s palm at all.

“Impossible! I couldn’t have miscalculated the distance. There was enough range in the Projector to circle the globe two times over,” Brain growled, pacing in front of the number display, wincing with every step he took. But his feet continued to make the angry pitter-patter sounds. After about three or eight rounds of pacing across the counter, he finally looked up with a scowl. “What do you want, Pinky?”

“Oh, I filled up on cheese and food pellets before we left,” Pinky said as he unwrapped the swimmer band-aid. “My stomach doesn’t want anything right now. But your owies look like they could use a little something. Narf!”

Brain glanced at his tailtip, which was still hanging at an odd angle. “It hardly matters in the grand scheme of things, Pinky. A slight injury won’t incapacitate me. Whatever poor imitations of thoughts you have in your cotton-filled head are entirely unwarranted.”

“Oh no, Brain. I don’t have cotton in my head.” Pinky shook his head just to be certain. Nope. No cotton here. “It’s more like gum, actually.”

“Even worse,” Brain sighed.

Pinky waited a moment or two, but Brain made no move to fix himself up. Maybe he needed directions?

“So…” Pinky rocked on his heels. “You gonna apply the band-aid or-“

“I will if you’ll stop pestering me about it!” Brain snapped. He cast the swimmer band-aid aside and stomped past Pinky, pulling out a plain brown roll of bandages and a small bottle of water-that-didn’t-taste-like-water from the first-aid kit. With a small huff, Brain turned his back to Pinky and tried to reach around for his tail, only to find that it was a lot harder to bring it to the front since he’d waited too long to treat it.  

“Do you need help?” Pinky asked.

“No,” Brain said curtly. But his tail just wasn’t recuperating. And that wasn’t right. It was hurting Brain, so it was being a very bad tail right now.

He uncapped the bottle and squeezed it to get a little of the not-water out, then brushed his tailtip against the nozzle, managing to get a little of the not-water on the achy-breaky area.

Then Brain fidgeted for a while, turning every way he could to try and hold his tail and the bandages at the same time, but nothing seemed to work. He tried to straighten one of the bends in his tail, but his frown grew frownier and his foot stomped angrily. Then he tried to hold the bandages in place with his foot, but the roll…well, rolled away.

Pinky ran after the roll of plain bandages that didn’t have the swimmer band-aid’s happy colors, but if they still gave good hugs then it was alright if they didn’t have happy colors he could see. He caught the bandages before they could roll off the counter.

“Bad band-aids!” Pinky scolded the bundle in his arms as he carried them back to his bestest friend. “You’re supposed to be helping Brain!”

“They’re inanimate objects subject to the laws of physics, annoying as it may be,” Brain said, keeping both hands on his tail so it didn’t escape again. “Bring that roll over here and stay a considerable distance away from me while I wrap this up.”

Pinky set the roll next to Brain and backed up a few steps. “Is considerable more or less than an inch?”

Or maybe that was milliliters. Distances could be awfully confusing.

“Do I dare grace that with a response?” Brain muttered.

Pinky wondered what they were going to dare Grace to do, maybe lick a broom or quack like a horse.

Brain tried to wrap his tailtip again, but neither the bandages or tail were following instructions. He sat down, leaning forward to avoid hurting the other breaks in his tail, yet he got nowhere and Pinky was starting to have a very bad ache in his chest cause Brain wasn’t getting any closer to feeling better.

If the not-water helped Brain’s tail, maybe it would help Pinky’s ache too? Pinky squeezed the bottle, but he put his face too close to the nozzle and several drops of not-water splashed onto his nose instead. Giggling at his slight mishap, Pinky tried to touch his nose to his chest to get the dampness into the right place.

Except his nose didn’t want to touch his achy chest. Like how he couldn’t lick his elbow. Unless there was a mirror. Then he could lick the mirror Pinky’s elbow.

“Pinky! Stop grooming yourself in such a primitive manner!” Brain scolded. “If you’re truly a genetically spliced mouse, then act like it!”

“Zort! Okay, Brain,” Pinky nodded, rubbing his damp nose with one hand. “How’s your achy-breaky tail?”

Brain rolled his eyes. “At a most unfortunate and unreachable area for me to attempt alone, as much as I detest admitting it. Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful and“- his shoulders stiffened- “hold my tail while I wrap it.”

Oh, how he loved being useful! It was one of the best fuls out there! Pinky skipped over to Brain, tripping over himself with one hoppy foot and smacking his jaw against the counter.

“Be grateful I’m in far too much pain to hurt you right now,” Brain said, his jaw jutting out in a little pout.

Pinky recovered from his fall and sat up, hiding a chortle behind his hands. Brain’s pouty and squinty face was just too funny.

“A neon sign is far more subtle than you,” Brain grumbled.

“I love looking at the pretty neon signs!” Pinky exclaimed. “Especially if they have arrows on them. All arrows lead to yummy cheese!”

Pinky carefully took hold of Brain’s crooked tail, one hand near the tip and his other hand next to a sharp break. Brain took a deep breath, his ears flattening ever so slightly. But he wasn’t letting go of his tail.

“Brain, aren’t you gonna put the band-aids on?” Pinky asked.

His bestest friend was acting funny, and not the good sort of funny either. Brain’s entire body was tense, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Y-yes. Of course I’m wrapping it,” Brain said. He snatched up the bandages, frowning at the messy bundle. “It would be far easier if this was rolled properly.”

Once Brain finally found a loose end, he tore off a small strip of band-aid from the roll and folded it over his tail. His hands flicked against Pinky’s while he wrapped his tail and Pinky couldn’t help smiling cause it felt like softer bops for his fingers.

“Hold still, Pinky,” Brain ordered. He pushed Pinky’s hand closer to the tip so he could check the area underneath.

But Pinky was holding still. He was being more stiller than a statue!

Then Pinky looked behind him. His tail was swishy-sweepy all over the place! It wasn’t obeying Brain at all!

“Bad tail!” Pinky scolded, leaning back a little to catch his very naughty tail. “Stay still or I’ll put you on a seventeen second timeout, mistah! Narf!”

Then he realized he’d leaned back too much.  

Snap.

It was only a quiet crick, barely louder than the hum of the lab, but now Brain’s tailtip felt stiff and crooked and bent, the nearby bandage pointing sharply to the ceiling.

Brain’s pink eyes were wide, the widest Pinky had ever seen them. But it wasn’t the wide eyes that came when something went unexpectedly right in his plans. His mouth opened in surprise, his big ears hung limply.

It was Brain’s pained cry that reminded Pinky to let go of the crooked tail. Slowly, Pinky slipped the tip into Brain’s palm and scooted back.

“I’m s-sorry…I didn’t…I really…” Pinky stammered.  

But Brain’s fearful expression made Pinky’s chest ache worse. Wasn’t the not-water supposed to help? Instead it made Pinky’s heart drop into his tummy.

“It appears I was mistaken,” Brain said, his voice so soft that Pinky had to strain both ears to pick up on it.

“Mistaken?” Pinky asked.

“Yes,” Brain nodded, but it wasn’t a happy yes. Pinky’s ears dropped. Brain’s yeses were supposed to be happy. “I never should’ve entrusted you with any important task.”

“You don’t trust me, Brain?” Pinky didn’t know what the n sound at the beginning of trust was, but he knew he trusted Brain with everything important like food pellets and wheels and scented markers. “It’s alright. I trust you.”

“That’s not how it works, you naïve dolt!” Brain shouted, leaping to his feet. He scowled and turned away from Pinky. “If I can’t expect you to follow the simplest instructions, then clearly I have no business trusting you.”

He couldn’t see Brain’s face anymore.

“I’m sorry for breaking your tail,” Pinky whispered.

Brain turned slightly, only one pink eye visible beneath his brow. Pinky didn’t know what Brain was thinking, but it definitely had to be something supersmart. Pinky tried to make his face look really truly sorry, but he didn’t know what sorry looked like on a face, so he took his best guess.

Then Brain walked into the cage without another word.

Cleaning the counter was a lonely job without Brain to scold him for making a mess of things. When everything was stored in the first-aid kit, Pinky yawned, ready to cuddle up next to Brain in their twin straw beds.

Only to find Brain had shifted his entire bed to another corner.

Pinky nuzzled his lonely straw bed. Brain settled in the darkest part of the cage, away from the sliver of starlight that spilled from their window. The broken, bandaged tail was hidden from view, where it couldn’t be hurt for the next few hours.

Straw rustled as Brain tossed and turned in his corner. And no matter how many horses Pinky counted, he couldn’t sleep either.      

o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, a techie plucked Pinky out of his wheel. Pinky waved goodbye to Brain, but he just mumbled a big word to himself and stayed out of reach from the techie’s buddy, who was making a funny face as she tried to grab Brain with a double gloved hand.

Early morning exercise was so fun! Pinky giggled as he dangled and swung around in the air, the techie’s fingers pinching his tail to keep him from falling. Of course, his wheel was great too. He couldn’t leave his poor wheel out of the fun!

The techie set Pinky in a covered maze full of twisty turns and turny twists. He pressed a button on a nearby camera, and left Pinky alone once he was through setting everything up.

“Poor man.” Pinky shook his head as the techie dashed into the breakroom for coffee and donuts. “Narf! He really shouldn’t skip breakfast. What kind of donuts do you think they’ve got in there, Brain? I could go for some powdered sugar donut holes myself.”

The camera swiveled, the only light blinkedy-blinking on its side. Every path was pitch-black, the vague outlines of high walls surrounding him.

“I don’t want any bla-bla big word sugar cause I’m a big ol’ grouch, Pinky.”

Oh, that was Brain alright.

“But wouldn’t you just be a lil’ grouch, Brain? Only your head is big and chubby. The rest of you is ittier-bittier than a mouse!”  

“Don’t use that word, you icicle.”

“Poit. Sorry, Brain. Which way to the yummy cheese?” Pinky rubbed his tummy, which was growling very Brain-like growls.

“We’ll hug the left wall. So simple even a something-something like you can do it.”

A left wall then! Brilliant!

“Whatever you say, Brain!” Pinky saluted and skipped over to what he guessed was the left wall, though it was a little hard to tell which was left since it was so dark. Then he threw his arms around the wall and hugged it.

Since walls couldn’t hug back, Pinky hugged twice as hard, only releasing his embrace when Brain cleared his throat. Pinky kept a hand along the wall as he skipped further into the dark maze.

“Just like nighttime, except without the stars. Where’d the stars go, Brain? I thought they only slept during the day.”

The left wall disappeared under his hand, and no matter how much Pinky tried to convince it to stay, it wouldn’t come with him. He grasped at empty, black space instead.

“I can’t find the left wall, Brain. Help me look?”

Brain didn’t reply.

“Okay, you can think about your plan thingies. Um…Mom always said if I get lost, I should find my way with echoes! Just like a hummingbird!” Pinky inhaled and picked a random direction, though it was awfully confusing when he couldn’t tell which direction he was facing. Maybe southeast? “ZORT!”

Zort! Zort! Zort!

“Five echoes deep!” Pinky exclaimed as he charged down the corridor. “Shouldn’t be too far to the cheese now, Brain!”

Except he couldn’t smell cheese or pellets or any kind of food. And he couldn’t see his own hand anymore.

Nor did he hear Brain’s footsteps.

“Brain? Where’d you go?” Pinky called.

He ran after his bestest friend, his chest aching deeply. But he pushed past the bad pain, which was sore and raw and not at all like the tingly feelings Brain’s smacks often gave him.

Pinky’s nose smashed into a wall or two as he tried to find Brain, his tail tripping him several times. But he kept running, cause if he didn’t, he’d get lost and never see Brain again.

“I don’t know where I’m going, Brain. Am I close?”

Pinky wrung his tail, the tip pressed against his chest. If he let go, the scary monsters would snatch it.

“Are you still here, Brain?”

Pinky’s lip trembled, a tear slipping down his cheek and splashing on his hand.

“I’m sorry I broke your tail! If you wa…wanna go…I don’t mind. P-p-poit,” Pinky whimpered. He reached out, only to touch a wall. He turned in another direction. Another wall. “Can…can you just show me the way out? Before you leave.”

Brain wouldn’t let the walls stop him. He was smart enough to figure out the way through. Where Pinky couldn’t follow cause he was just a dum-dum who couldn’t pass through walls.

It was dark and wet and dark all over again. He didn’t know where he was. He just wanted to see again.

Pinky curled himself against the wall. But the wall wasn’t a good hugger. Good huggers have arms, and walls don’t have arms.    

He didn’t deserve huggy arms though.

He broke Brain’s tail just like he broke Mom and Sis and Dad’s hearts.

What would his family think of him now? Sis would be heartbroken. He just wanted to be a good brother for her, though he didn’t know how he could be a good brother if he wasn’t there to teach her how to play Chase Me or eat food pellets.

Mom would cry cause she had such a dum-dum for a son. Dad would be mad cause he made Mom cry.

Brain could take over the world cause he wouldn’t be there to break his plans, his things, his tail.

And who could blame them?

He didn’t want anything to do with himself either.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pinky’s ears flicked.

The scary monster was coming.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The taps kept coming, and Pinky curled up tighter.

“Sorry. You’ll have to come back some other time. I’m too stringy and blue right now,” Pinky whispered. “Blue tastes icky and sad.”

The taps stopped, and a thin beam of light flashed in the corner of Pinky’s vision.

“Pinky, what are you babbling about?”

The mad-worry-more mad voice.

Brain.

“Guess you found me after all, Brain.” Pinky tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t turn up like they were supposed to. “Thought you’d made it to the end with your magic maze solving skills.”

“It’s called deduction, Pinky.”

“Oh.”

Neither spoke. For a while, there was nothing except the nervous tapping of fingers against metal.

“What are you doing, Brain? Aren’t you busy?”

Brain was a busybee. He was always grumping, always pondering, always scribbling.

“…don’t know where the wheel oil is. I can’t concentrate while the wheel is incessantly squeaking.”

“It’s by the wheel. I always keep them together.”

“Yes…of course,” Brain said, an odd flicker in his voice. “You’ll just have to show me then. Let’s go.”

Yet Pinky didn’t get up.

“You don’t need me,” Pinky forced out. It hurt to think it, to speak it, but it was true. “I’ll just break the wheel like I broke your tail. I broke your tail, Brain. I’ll break everything.”

A sob clawed its way out of his throat, and Pinky shushed it, his breath hitching.

It was dark, it was dingy, and Pinky just wanted out. He wanted to see so badly.

“Turn around and lift your head, Pinky.”

Pinky wiped a few tears and obeyed, pressing his back to the wall as he pushed himself up.    

The thin beam from the mini flashlight illuminated Brain’s face for the briefest moment before the flashlight was set down, the beam pointing to the wall. Then Brain turned around, picking up a long, thin plastic tube and dragging it over to Pinky.

“The employees are unprofessional and always leave their cheap party favors lying around,” Brain said. He looped the plastic tube around Pinky’s neck. “But I know more efficient uses for these chemicals.”

Both ends clicked together, a blue glow working its way through the tubing until Pinky had a neon blue ring around his neck.

“A glowstick?” Pinky asked. Not that he wasn’t appreciative. Things were much less scary now, thanks to Brain and the glowstick. He loved it. He really truly honestly did. But he’d broken Brain’s tail, and now Brain was giving him pretty things? “I love it, but-“

“I don’t need a reminder,” Brain snapped. He sighed heavily and sat down, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I’d like to pose a hypothesis for you.”

A glowstick and a hippo? It was so much, and Pinky wasn’t sure if he deserved either one. “Thanks, but I don’t think an entire hippopotamus would fit in here. And there’s definitely not enough light for a photoshoot.”

“A hypothesis is a question. Evidently I was wrong that you’d learn something from the childish poster of the scientific method next to our cage.”

If all he wanted to do was ask a question, he could’ve just asked! Brain was so confused sometimes.

The glowstick’s blue light shone right on Brain’s head, and Pinky pushed and pulled on the tubing, making the light dance in pretty patterns.

“Why did you apologize when you didn’t bend my tail on purpose?” Brain asked. With some difficulty, he brought his tail around and gingerly touched the broken tip.

“I hurt you, Brain,” Pinky sniffed, unable to stop the tear from rolling down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I really am sorry. Honest.”

“As several failed plans have proven, you’re incapable of deception. I’ll try to remember that,” Brain said quietly. His hand reached out before stopping an inch away from the tear, then dropped down again. Brain looked away.

Pinky’s smile still wasn’t working. He had Brain and the pretty glowstick. Something was still missing.

“Brain? How many sorries should I say to make you feel better? Am I not saying it enough?” Pinky trembled and cried onto the glowstick.

No matter how many sorries it took, he’d say however many he needed to!

“Pinky, your lacrimal ducts are the ones leaking, not mine. Apologies aren’t necessary.” Brain ducked his head, avoiding Pinky’s gaze. “There’s…a method you haven’t tried yet. I suppose an excessively needy being such as yourself requires it. I’m usually above these displays of course, but I can make an allowance for this occasion and this won’t become a habit in the future so don’t get any ideas in your lack of a mind or-“

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Brain,” Pinky said. He’d never seen Brain so nervous-grumpy before.

“I’m asking if you require a hug, Pinky!” Brain scowled.

Pinky’s jaw dropped, and he was sure it was on the ground somewhere. He’d have to crawl around on his hands and knees to find it again.

“Egad, a hug?” Pinky breathed.

A fresh wave of tears sprung up, but these felt…different. They were relieving tears. Happy tears. Joyful tears.

“I can still rescind my offer,” Brain warned, his ears flattening.

Pinky laughed, and it was the most wonderful laugh he’d had all day. “I’d love a hug, Brain,” he said when Brain’s foot tapped in annoyance.

Brain took a deep breath, slowly leaning his head against Pinky’s chest. His cheek smushed against Pinky’s fur, and Pinky smiled cause Brain looked adorable in his grumbly-stormy way.

“I apologize too, Pinky,” Brain murmured as he pushed the glowstick out of the way and laid his arms across Pinky’s belly. “I can trust you to a certain extent. You just…caught me off-guard when you bent my tail.”

The achy feeling was gone, only leaving a warm pool of butterflies in its place. Pinky hummed in delight and wrapped his arms around Brain. His bestest friend deserved the bestest hugs!

“How so, Brain?” Pinky asked, relaxing his arms when Brain’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly.

“Your expression. You were regretful from the moment you heard the snap. I suppose it was just easier to be furious,” Brain said, his shoulders relaxing. “It’s always simpler.”

“More simple than me, Brain?”  

Brain rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s more simple than you, Pinky.”

They sat in comfy silence for a while longer, the darkness no longer bothering them. The glowstick scared all those hungry maze monsters away.

Then Pinky’s tummy tingled and tickled, a loud giggle escaping him. Brain’s fingers lightly dug into Pinky’s tummy, though Brain’s eyes were blissfully closed. He must’ve been tired from all the tossing and turning last night.

Pinky’s tummy growled softly and Brain jolted awake, blinking down at his fingers. He stood up quickly  and hid his hands behind his back.

“Ah, I was just pondering,” Brain said hastily. “What transpired in this maze must remain in this maze. Understand?”

Pinky nodded, wagging his finger at Glowstick to keep him quiet too. “Narf! Glowstick and I won’t tell a soul!”

Brain picked up his mini flashlight, then turned and faced Pinky so quickly that he nearly blinded himself with the light beam. “That’s it! Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Excitement laced his voice.

“I think so, Brain. But blackbirds in pies wouldn’t be a popular choice in a bake sale,” Pinky wrinkled his nose as Brain grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

“Fortunately for you, there’s blackberry pie in the fridge. I suppose that’s more suitable for your palate?”

Pinky’s tummy growled even louder, and his mouth watered at the thought of sweet blackberries. “Oh no, Brain. I want to eat the blackberries, not paint with them.”

Brain sighed a long sigh, vaguely reminding Pinky of a leaky tire. “After we’re satiated, I’ll work on a plan that will ensure our successful conquest of the world. I’ll need some time to come up with the exact number of glowsticks we’ll need per capita, so you’ll have to be inane elsewhere for a while.”

Pinky smiled and cheered, and Brain even bopped him with his little flashlight. His bestest friend knew how to make him happy, and happiness was the loveliest feeling of all.

o-o-o-o-o

The glowstick plan failed, and so did all the following plans. While Pinky didn’t mind healing and resting for the next tomorrow night, it didn’t take long before Brain’s tail suffered another bruise after a fancy lady’s high heel stepped on it.

Brain’s nose scrunched up as Pinky gently dribbled a few drops of sanitizer onto the bruise. It wasn’t called not-water like he’d originally thought. He never would’ve known if it hadn’t been for Brain.

Pinky hummed and measured out a bandage, then stopped humming cause he needed to concentrate on Brain’s tail, which needed extra care and gentleness since it didn’t heal as fast as the rest of him.

“You can be swishy later, tail,” Pinky scolded his own tail, which fell back to the cage floor. His tail was getting really good at obeying now.  

Pinky wrapped the bandage around the bent and bruised tail, concentrating super hard. Once the bandage was snug like a pug in a mug, Pinky pressed his fingers against his lips and tapped them against the bandage for extra encouragement.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

Pinky smiled back. He loved making Brain happy too. 

AN: I like to think this story is set early in Pinky and Brain’s partnership. As a result, Snowball’s departure is still fairly fresh in Brain’s mind.

I am not sorry for butchering the English language. English? I know not of whom you speak. 

This story’s a bit more unpolished than I would like, mostly because Pinky’s a tough POV to write, especially if you’re trying to dig deep. I still like the end result though. 

[duckyaltalt]

「herman tommeraas & cis male」⇾ mercer, ducky, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 21 years old. he is studying business, living in gorham and can be tenderhearted, nimble, compliant & taciturn. when i see him i am reminded of fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown . ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

hi :D this is the last of my OG characters ... the next two will b sexy n new bt they wont arrive fr a while bc i <3 need 2 hv a steady pace <3 anyways hes. rly sad so. good luck charlie <3 okay bye :D

TW CHILD ABUSE / DOMESTIC ABUSE / ABUSE, VIOLENCE, INJURY, TRAUMA, MENTAL ILLNESS, DRUGS / DRUG ABUSE / ADDICTION , GANGS.

aesthetic.

bruises; from beneath your eyes to the edge of your jaw, aligned against your stomach and the sides of your waist and the groves of your knuckles. bleeding noses and bleeding gums, spat out teeth, tattoos scarred from improper treatment, a facial scar; jagged and old, now, from above your eye to beneath your lip. worn hoodies and scuffed sneakers, sunglasses inside. the night sky, and it’s many stars, and how brightly they shone during the 2019 blackout, and wanting to be up there, with them. knowing constellations by heart. wishing to be the face on the moon. beer bottles and secret exchanges. dark alleys. fear, through the very core of your heart. fear, hidden behind a stoic stare.

basic info.

full name: donovan mercer

nickname(s): ducky but i’m 95% sure he hates the nickname it’s just. Stuck with him.

b.o.d. - march 15th, pisces :)

label(s): the allegiant, the despondent, the grifter, the malleable, the vacant, etc.

height: 5′11″

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york

sexuality: bisexual bt make it closeted.

pinterest

stats

inspired by: lip gallagher (shameless), freddie mcclair (skins), frankenstein’s monster (frankenstein), fez (euphoria) … that’s it i don’t know any other characters KJNSGLDNVLSDJNFDS

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

you can correctly assume that they grew up in a heavily abusive environment, and can imagine the sort of things the two have gone through. ducky was, maybe, the least favorite of their father’s -

- for numerous reasons, and one being that ducky’d always been a sensitive kid. kinder than his brother, and far kinder than his father - kindness is weakness, and ducky was filled with it. too much so, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice. should’ve - but didn’t. and never did, either.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed.

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be.

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. his grades fluctuated frequently, and it’s a surprise that he hadn’t dropped out of high school altogether.

anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip, the entire left side of his face a bloody mess afterwards. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly. corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

graduated high school and had been on-and-off attending community college since then. he’d miss days at a time, flunk an entire semester’s worth of classes - gpa dropped further and further. wanted to try, but life got in the way. always got in the way.

hadn’t intended on transferring to radcliffe, but their father’d been missing for a few months then, leaving ducky to handle the drugs side of their business in hell’s kitchen - and mercy’d disappeared, too, leaving their branch in lovell completely open. in a split decision - an opportunity, and opening - something he couldn’t miss, or he’d maybe never get the opportunity again, ducky bullshitted a scholarship essay (plagiarism, tsk) and transferred to pick up where mercy’d left.

this wasn’t very well thought out, because that meant there were no mercers in new york - and lars amaretto? not a very understanding man. more of a brute than their father was, by far. to keep a story short - ducky is missing a tooth (molar, luckily, this time) and is … more rough’d up than he’d like to be, for sure. but mercy’s back, now, and he’s still at lovell, at radcliffe.

and that’s enough.

UPDATE: heehaw. mercy is gone & ducky’s still here. feeling a bit lost - dealt with a lot of shit this summer, new wounds and old wounds and just. a lot. started an underground fight club on campus for some extra cash, reasons unknown. being blackmailed by someone named rocky - someone who knows ducky is skimming cash. god. i don’t know ... danger danger danger danger. nightmare-ville. wrapped up in more walls than ever.

personality.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be harder - and his hits will be, too. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures, occasionally, or physics - or anything that isn’t business, because he hates his major, but he knows it’s the only chance he’s got to stay at radcliffe. and that’s to follow his brother, to follow his father. a business degree treats you well, teaches you skills you’ll need to know for this type of work.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs, only to leave it in the gorham community fridge with no name, something for somebody who may need it. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing, the result of years of abuse. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy. his room is messy, but still oddly barren. nothing on the walls except for a poster or two, sheets a standard navy blue and a row of empty liquor bottles on his windowsill.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing. sex is uncomfortable for him, he always feels gross afterwards. wrong, sometimes.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it. it’s his first semester at radcliffe.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

uuuhhh. god. okay so ducky’s got an addiction to xanax. it’s numbing and it’s better than feeling, and he’d rather this than that and it’s. a Thing. we won’t go further into it. besides that - he does smoke weed, does try out some of their products to make sure it’s not … fucked, for their clients, but otherwise fucking hates drugs. social drinker, but still doesn’t like it a lot. hates beer but drinks it often.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted connections.

clients… first n foremost. he needs people to deal to. i don’t think he handles the Hard Shit like mercy does, but like coke and mdma? works for him.

f…riend..s?… like it’s so hard for ducky to be sincere with people but if you don’t mind like … an emotionally distant man who doesn’t even hit 6′ then maybe? he’s your guy? maybe you can break him down a little? chip away at his cold shoulder?

a close…r friend… maybe not like. the best of friends. but at least one normal friend whose world does not revolve around fucking drugs and violence would be nice for ducky. someone he can be a little soft with, as a treat.

hook-ups… not many, because ducky doesn’t really enjoy sex too much but y’know. that’s just how it is. he do be having needs, tho. KDSJGSHDKLFSE god.

fisticuffs!… someone he got into a fistfight with. multiple people he’s gotten into fights with. he’s probably lost them (on purpose) but - mayhaps, some of them, he did not?

gorham roommate… god… i don’t know what these two cld get up to but! maybe give him a sexuality panic but who knows.

unrequited feelings… there’s probably a few of these. whether people are drawn to his fucking ~mysterious~ demeanor (he just has fucking anxiety, man) or mayhaps. mayhaps he has the feelings.

flirtations… he’s never been in a relationship so i can’t really include exes, but he can flirt with people i’d like to think … when he’s drunk. :-)

ghostees… everybody he’s ever fucking ghosted because he’s stupid and is afraid of both friendship and relationships and romance and platonic? feelings of warmth? so sometimes he panics and ghosts people forever. :) spite!

new yorkians… who are familiar with his family or the business they have there

enemies… god. i’m sure he has a lot of these even without attempting to make them. just like, by association, you know? sometimes ducky hates people because mercy does. sometimes he hates people because mercy likes them. JKSDGDSJGFSNLKF

i won’t lie i’m very tired and am having a Troubled Time coming up with connections please. bare with me.

annoyances… i don’t know if ducky can get annoyed very easily but? thorns in his side? something lighthearted? alternately, something Not lighthearted and then ducky :/ goes rogue JKDNGDSNLFK

idk something soft… literally anything soft. please :) give me something soft and cute :) and peaceful and not stressful :)

something ANGSTY and AWFUL… literally. i don’t know. duality of man.

ok i have been awake fr too long i’m going to bed goodnight.

[bigskydreaming]

This has been a very weird week. Been all over the place, up and down as my antibiotics and percocet finally finished their prescribed courses, went back to the doctor to have the stitches in my gums removed, was in super hella pain for a couple days straight after getting off the painkillers and slept through a couple days pretty much nonstop except waking up occasionally to eat ice cream and jello, lol, and then....like....just woke up today around noon and its like....without any pain meds or anything, its like, I’m at a three pain wise instead of the nine I’ve been at every day for pretty much the past two years.....only I still have some pain from the jaw/joint issue itself, so a nine to a three isn’t a dramatic enough difference to describe what I’m feeling so its like waking up at a three and realizing that actually the nine was a fifteen all along. I don’t even know how to put it. Its just......so much different than I’d even hoped it would be, practically overnight, and the jaw pain itself isn’t even that bad, comparatively speaking, and if anything, being aware of it just makes me aware of the fact that once its finally dealt with by that surgery, I’ll feel even better than I do right now, and holy shit, you guys don’t even know. I have no words. All the words are gone. 

Yeah its weird as fuck having no teeth at the moment, and the appointment to get the molds done for the dentures isn’t until the 25th as they want the swelling to go down as much as possible first, and I sound weird as hell talking so that’s whatever, but like....and! And! So I’d known I had at least a couple abscessed teeth for who knows how long, so I’ve been fighting off/dealing with constant infection from those for months at least, since I couldn’t afford to do things tooth by tooth and had to wait til I was in a position to do, well, this....but like, I knew that was going on all this time, but I didn’t know know, not until they were gone, and the antibiotics had cleared all that up, because I have SO much more, just.....energy? Awareness? Clear-headedness? Idk what all. 

I feel like that’s been true for a few days at least, but it was only when I woke up today in practically no pain, comparatively speaking to my usual, like....today was the first day that I really realized it, and felt the difference there too. I’m even walking better? Like, no vertigo really? And I don’t know if that’s maybe just because my mouth is still so swollen from the extractions that its kinda...holding the jawbone in place where it is enough that its not doing its usual flip flopping and messing with my inner ear or equilibrium or whatever, and so might come back once the swelling goes down, or if maybe part of that problem was due to the infections too and so won’t come back or be as bad, but like, whatever, for right now its just.....holy shit.

I was dreading this stage of things so much pretty much since they told me back at the start of January that this was our best direction, because its still far enough away from the completion of the jaw surgery itself and the actual permanent implant bridge things, that like.....for the past two months, this all just looked/seemed to me like it was going to be an extended period of absolute suck where I’m just even more helpless and messed up than even what I’ve been so far.....and yeah, being the gummy wonder for a couple more weeks means part of that’s true and I’d be screwed if I didn’t have this friend’s place to stay at out here while recuperating, but its soooooo much better than what I’d be fearing and dreading and expecting cuz I’ve gotten so used this past couple years to every stage of things getting worse somehow and I’ve just been plowing ahead figuring it wasn’t until the ultimate end stage that things would all actually get better.....but right now, this is like.....I’m like....actually really fucking good today. Easily the best day I’ve had, the best I’ve felt in......longer than I can actually place.

Fingers crossed that it holds and this isn’t just a temporary fluke day or whatever, but even if it is, like....still worth it. Omgggggg, I miss feeling like my entire body doesn’t just hate me, lol, and for the first time in ages I actually remember what that feels like and its so much better than I was remembering.

[pbandjesse]

My allergies are kicking my butt. I am tired. SweetP has been basically right next to me all day and I think that made my allergeis kick off? But its also the first day of october! Amazing! It was a lovely day weather wise. I am happy for the cooler weather. 

And today was a pretty okay day I guess. I woke up with my alarm at 8 and laid in bed for a few minutes. James came to make sure I was awake. I was but I didnt want to get up yet. I knew I would have to soon but not yet. 

I eventually did get up. I got dressed and felt very cute. An excellent fall outfit. James had made me a baked avocado with an egg. And soon it was time to go to the appointment. 

And it went as well as expected. They were really nice. It was very expensive. They told me nothing. Not a surprise. I got there and missed the door and had to backtrack. But it was fine. James waited in the car. I got in there and paid and they had me go wash my hands. They did two Xrays and the one was weirdly large and made me choke and my eyes watered. Annoying. Then I waited for a while but not to long. I mostly just stared at the computer screen looking at my Xray. Then the dentist was there and he was very kind. I told him I do not want a root canal. But surprise. A dentist who specializes in root canals wants to do a root canal? Shocker??? I was sent there to see what the darkness in my gums was but he said I need to see a DIFFERENT specialist to see what that might be. I wasnt pleased but I didnt let him know that. I told him I will probably just have the tooth removed. He said that was an option but would need an implant or something in the future but honestly. I dont even care. I just want this tooth out. 

I wasnt happy when I left. I went to the car and told James what happened. He asked me what I wanted to do now. And I just wanted to go home. We ended up getting a little turned around. But we figured it out. And headed home. 

James wanted to finally get my bike to the bike store. And I was just. Done. I wanted to lay down. I was so tired emotionally. So James decided to just go without me and it was fine. Its going to be a few weeks but I have been bikeless for months so its not a big deal. 

I never was able to fall asleep. But I enjoyed laying in the studio with sweetP. James was taking a while to get back because he had stopped at the grocery store. But I got up and had a snack and felt a little better. 

I spent a few hours playing on animal crossing. Because its october I can finally plant pumpkins! And I wanted to jazz up the space so I decided to change out all our flowers to be orange, black, or purple. But that took literally forever and I only had so many of those colors. But I ended up just planinting like 100 pumpkins and making little gardens. I did save all our pink flowers too because you cant buy those. But I am very pleased with how everything looks. 

James got home and made us stuffed shells. They were excellent. And then Brandon came over for a little and him and James went to take a walk. 

I kept working on the island. And then they were back. And I went to work on my quilt for a while. But I only did that for an hour or so. Brandon headed home. And James played video games for a while. 

I have spent the afternoon hanging out as my allergies got worse and worse. But I tried to just stay positive. The sun started to go down and James made us a pizza. He also made a pumpkin cheese cake today. Hes great. 

We have been hanging out and enjoying eachother's company. The mail just came and I got a package and I am looking forward to opening that. 

But I hope you all have a great night. I hope we all sleep well. Take care of yourselves. Goodnight! 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Daniel Michaelson: Nate Vandrum’s Nightmare

(for the @whumptober2019 prompt Hallucination - and for @pinkcupboardwitch and @muffinworry who I’m sure are totally fine with this)

There’s a weight on him, and Nate can’t breathe.

He tries, but it’s caught somewhere in the pressure pushing slowly, inexorably, onto his chest. The exhale is easy and simple enough - it’s on the inhale that the weight is worse, and worse, and he can’t quite replace the oxygen he’s lost.

Each breath is a little more difficult than the one before.

There’s no real panic, only the sense that he should panic, he should be scared that he can’t quite breathe, but he’s not scared… not yet.

He’s dizzy but still mostly asleep, caught in a formless uneasy dream where he’s been given some task to do by Bram but he can’t quite manage it, and every time he fails he sees Danny’s wrists and remembers what will happen if he can’t pull it together before Bram’s cell phone timer goes off, before he starts taking pictures, before Danny starts to scream.

But he can’t remember what the task is, and he can’t possibly finish it in time.

Danny, what did he tell me to do? You have to tell me, please, I want to help you.

In his dreams he never stammers - every word comes out crisp and clear and smooth, just like when he was a professor, just like before. Sometimes he wonders how long it will be before he stammers in his sleep, too, before his mind stops remembering there was ever a time he didn’t.

Nate tries to shift, to roll over and pull the fuzzy soft blanket up higher, but the weight won’t let him, keeps him flat on his back. 

“I don’t think so, Nate,” Ashley says, tsking softly, clicking her tongue against her teeth. 

Cold fingertips with fingernails so long they scratch against his skin find his chin and turn his head towards the ceiling, hold him there with the most delicate touch. The cold pressure feels like someone has laid a block of ice against his chest, soaking into his skin, freezing around his heart.

He can feel the brush of her hair now, the slightly wavy white-blonde of it against his cheek.

Hitch in a breath; not quite enough air.

Exhale.

Again.

“Y-you’re dead,” Nate slurs, without much worry or concern, not yet. He’s still half-lost in himself, in his attempt to remember what chore Bram gave him to do, what task he must finish. He can still see Danny’s pleading eyes, begging him to save him from the next cruelty, and the next, and the next. “Kill… K-K-Killed y-you m’self.”

Breath in - never enough, not enough.

Exhale.

Again.

The cold weight on his chest shifts a little, and he can see now that she’s sitting on him, settled right over his breastbone, wearing the blue jeans and hooded sweatshirt she’d had on when he killed her,.

The great big bloodstain is still spread across the front where he had stabbed her, just kept stabbing until he couldn’t do it any longer, until all his rage at his agony and his misery had been spent. He could still see the tears in the fabric - how many stab wounds, he doesn’t even remember any longer. The bloodstains are brownish and dried and cracking off in flakes that flutter down to his collarbone and neck. Through the rips in the cloth the knife had made, he can see a flash of her skin - no wounds there, just pale white and unmarked.

The ripple of the shadows of her ribs, pale stomach, a suggestion of a curve. 

He manages a single deep breath, fighting against the weight, forcing in all the oxygen his starving brain needs, and then exhales in a rush.

Should’ve held onto that air.

Oh well; he’d just have to fight harder.

Her eyes, when he looks up at her, are still the same focused, cold ice-blue, but her cheekbones are more pronounced. Her teeth, when she smiles, are pointed and the gums have pulled back from them, turning every tooth into a fang. Her skin is grayish-blue, not white, and he can see the thin blue veins underneath skin so thin it’s gone not-quite-transparent. 

She smells like soil, and blood, and death.

And ice.

“So you did,” She admits, shifting a little bit, her right knee along the left side of his ribcage, left knee along his right. Her hands move up his chest, palms pressing slowly, inexorably, until she’s holding him down by his shoulders, curling over so she’s bent nearly in half, so close they could kiss, brushing the end of her nose against his. “I did not appreciate that, by the way.”

“I d-d-didn’t ap-appreciate the c-crowbar,” Nate manages, his voice thin as he strains to get enough breath to speak at all. “Or th-the needles under m-my fingernails. Or th-the collar. Or the wh-wh-whip. Or, or the-”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” She says smoothly, putting a finger on his lips to stop the flow of words. “You called us psychopaths.”

“C-Call you w-w-worse than th, that,” Nate says, and bites down on the ice-cold finger as hard as he can.

It’s like biting onto a sculpture made entirely of bone, as if there isn’t any skin to give under his teeth at all, and she tastes like nothing.

She jerks her hand back with a hiss and Nate feels a spike of triumph at causing even this slight bit of pain, even though she is dead - has been dead for years, and the dead don’t come back. If the dead came back, Bram would never be able to stop running from the cascade of corpses he and Ashley left everywhere they went.

“You little shit,” She snaps, shaking out her hand, eyes narrowed to angry slits as she stares down at him. 

Nate swallows hard, forces another long breath, his fingers clawing into the sheets beneath the covers, trying to remind himself that this has to be a dream, too. She’s dead. 

Inhale - just enough air this time.

Exhale - as carefully and slowly as he can.

Again.

He remembers each and every time the knife went into and came out of her skin, every moment he buried it nearly to the handle and then yanked it back out, the way she had looked so genuinely, truly surprised, her eyes open wide right through her death and beyond it.

Now those eyes are narrowed and thoughtful, and she is so, so cold.

“You’ve lost all your manners since you left us,” She growls, sucking on the finger he bit like a little kid, sitting back, one hand still pushing his shoulder down and trapping him where he is. “It’s because of that puppy you killed my brother over, isn’t it?”

“T-T-Tried to k-kill,” Nate says - even now, years after her death, he can’t let Ashley be wrong. He gives her a smile that is nearly a snarl. He is fiercely proud of himself - and Bram is proud of him, too, he’d said as much in the courtroom. The last words they’d exchanged as they led Bram away the final time after the sentencing was finished.

Bram had been led past the prosecution’s table and he’d paused looked right into Nate’s eyes, and said simply, I love you, baby, and I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.

Nate hadn’t said anything - but the part of him that had never left Bram had shivered in helpless joy at the words. 

It doesn’t matter if Bram is proud of him or not. 

It doesn’t matter.

He tells himself that, and sometimes he even believes it for a while. Right now, though, he knows that isn’t fully true. Stronger than the urge to please Bram, to earn his love and his pride, though, is his desire to protect and defend and care for…

“Danny,” Nate breathes out, turning his head to the side, catching only a glimpse of mussed-up red hair and his wrists pressed together up in front of his frightened sleeping face before Ashley grabs his chin again and turns his face back to her, shaking her head. Now he can hear Danny’s breathing, hitched and stutter-skipping. “D-Don’t-”

“Don’t what?” Ashley murmurs. “Don’t get into his head? Don’t give him pretty dreams? Too late for that. Oh, Nate, you broke so many rules when you took him away from my Brammie.” She rolls her hips over his chest, the feeling of paralyzing ice making its way up into his shoulders and down his arms.

As she pushes herself slowly down, moving down his stomach grinding a little into his pelvis, finally coming to a stop with her hips on the tops of his thighs, she lays herself along him until her chest rests on his.

Her hipbones jut hard into his legs until he thinks he will bruise.

It’s all so very, very cold.

“Do you want to know what your darling dreams about, baby?” Ashley asks idly, gnawing on one fingernail with her pointed teeth. 

“No,” He answers, but he can’t look away from her eyes - the way he could never look away from Bram’s, either. They hold you - they mesmerize you - you’re spellbound with them. He had managed to escape Bram only because he fell so hard for Danny that he could break the spell again. 

For all that he keeps his voice calm, his heart pounds in his chest, and she’s dead, he knows she’s dead but part of him is wailing inside his mind don’t let her take you away again, they will never stop, you will never escape.

“He loves you so, so much,” Ashley says, leaning down to press a kiss to Nate’s cheek. Where her lips brush, he freezes over. She kisses him, cold lips to his, and when he breathes out next he sees a cloud of air in front of his face.

He can’t move his mouth.

“He was made for you,” Ashley says, gentle and soothing and syrupy-sweet. “My Brammie took a pretty young man and broke him, shattered him like a coffee mug on the floor, ground little Red’s face into it until there was no face left and then glued him back together… but there are some pieces missing, aren’t there? Everything he is, everything he has, everything he will ever be is because Brammie made him for you. There is no Daniel Michaelson left. There is only your little Red, your sweet little whore, who loves you so, so much.”

Nate swallows, trying to shake his head, to protest - Danny is his own person, he doesn’t belong to me, he isn’t mine, more of him comes back every single day, yesterday he dropped something and just cursed at it instead of asking me to forgive him - but he can’t move his mouth and no sound comes out, only a shaking exhale, a fight to inhale again, through a mouth he can’t quite open.

“He dreams,” Ashley murmurs, kissing his forehead, and he feels the ice traveling up to his hairline and along his scalp. A nip to one earlobe and his ears feel like he’s been standing out in the winter in the woods for hours. The end of his nose is next, frozen after her lips have left it. “He dreams of the woods. He dreams of the ways in which he was broken for you. He dreams of barbed wire cutting into his wrists and that beautiful wire grid over his mouth, the blood at his jaw, at his nose, in his mouth. He tastes blood in his sleep.” She smiles, flashing her pointed monster teeth at him. “He dreams of everything my Brammie did to make him perfect, just for you. Just for you, Nate. You’re just like us. You want him all to yourself.”

Nate tries to shake his head, desperately fighting her words, the way she echoes his deepest fears, his worst thoughts - that they kept him too long, that within him is the potential to become like them, that maybe he already is becoming like them.

That maybe every time he takes Danny’s hand, holds him in his sleep, kisses him, it’s something he only does because Bram would want him to. That he wants to be here to protect him not because Danny needs protecting but because Nate doesn’t want to let him go.

Because over seven years, maybe they infected him.

Maybe it’s only a matter of time.

She leans in to whisper in his ear. “In his best dreams, Nate, he dreams that he belongs to you. That’s how fucking broken my brother made him. That’s how perfect he is for you. That’s your perfect little Red.”

Through gritted teeth and an immobile mouth, Nate spits out, “D-D-D-Dan-ny.”

She pulls back, frowning down at him, momentarily confused. “What?”

“N-Name… is… D-D-Dan-ny.”

I tried to kill for him once and I can do it again.

I could kill you again.

Nate takes the deepest breath he can manage, closes his eyes, and jerks himself upright with every ounce of strength he has, hands out to grab her by the throat.

His fingers close around thin air.

Nate sits up in bed, and it’s just him and Danny in the room, in the bed. He can hear Danny’s little brother’s low breathing from down the hall through the door cracked open (hadn’t he closed it before they went to sleep? He’s almost certain he did), but no one is here.

He turns to look down at Danny, who sleeps peacefully, and his arms are splayed apart, not forced together like before. His face is peaceful, serene and young in sleep, and he shifts around, rolling over to face Nate without opening his eyes, mumbling something soft and loving in his sleep.

Had that just been a dream? Some kind of hallucination?

Nate slowly turns back to stare around the dark room.

He slowly lays back down in the bed covers himself up to the chin with the blankets, and slides his arms around Danny as tightly as he can, pulling the redhead closer to him, Danny’s head tucked under his chin like they slept sometimes at the cabin, when they needed each other more than they feared Bram’s wrath when he found them like that.

Just a dream.

Just seeing things.

But when he exhales, Nate can see his breath - and his ears and the end of his nose still feel frozen solid.

As he tries to slow his breathing, he can still feel a pressure on his chest, still hear her low voice whispering, you’re just like us.

Or you will be.

[rosebloodcat]

Changeling Nelson Tethers

*Kicks in door* Alright! I’ve finally finished the short/story!

It’s not terribly long, and I tried to make the events of the two games (and the time between) seem a bit more stretched out. You know, to seem more realistic?

But the main focus was Nelson going through his transformations (and the build-up to each change) without too much focus on what happens in the games. As in, the story isn’t a play-by-play of what happened in them. So it doesn’t spoil anything for people who haven’t had the chance to play/watch the games.

I hope people like it, and if you have ideas for more stuff I could write for this, feel free to tell me. As either an ask or a comment/reply to this post.

If he had to pick a point where everything started, where the first signs had made themselves known, Nelson would say he had no idea. But, after thinking for a bit, he would say it started with a toothache.

It started just before (or maybe just after?) he was told about his field assignment in Scoggins, Minnesota. At first, it had been little more than a faint pressure in his back molars. Almost as if he’d been gritting his teeth for too long without knowing it. The sort where you’d stop letting your teeth press together for a while, and it would go away. But it didn’t.

Instead, the ache seemed to spread slowly. Until the whole of his mouth was throbbing dully. At that point, it wasn’t painful, but it was notable. Enough that he was planning to schedule a dentist’s appointment to figure what was going on in there. Chewing on gum made it easier to ignore, resulting in him working his way through packs at a much faster rate than he usually would. A habit that quickly became a problem when he arrived in Scoggins.

During his stay in the small town, his fingers began to ache as well. At first, the agent had thought it was due to the note-taking and snowmobile riding he’d been doing on the case and had dismissed it. (Nevermind that he would usually spend his entire day gripping a pencil while solving puzzles in his office.)

But, like the toothache, the ache got worse instead of better.

And then the Gnomes appeared, causing his annoying aches to shift into spikes of pain. Complete with a brand new pulse of pain from his lower back. The alarm (and pain) had almost driven Nelson from town then and there.

It probably would have sent him away, if the Innkeeper hadn’t mentioned that the Sheriff had told her to let him know when Nelson left. Not if he left, but when. He had no idea what had made the man think he would leave, and so soon after he’d arrived in town. Something didn’t feel right about that.

Something that the FBI agent found suspicious enough to change his mind.

So he swallowed back the aches and pains (along with some extra strength aspirin) and trooped back out into the cold, snow-covered town to solve the case and get the factory going again. Just like he was sent there to do.

And once he’d gotten the factory open and running again, Nelson returned home with notable pains and an unsatisfying end to his field mission. He couldn’t get his mind off of what had transpired, or what he had seen.

Yes, he’d succeeded as far as the FBI was concerned. But the factory foreman was missing, and now he knew of impossible things. He couldn’t just leave it at that.

That was when the first significant sign of change made itself known.

Nelson had been in his office, trying to solve a crossword puzzle and get his mind off of Scoggins, when he bit into his chicken sandwich and felt something hard in his mouth. Something that was not food. He froze mid-chew.

That was not part of his lunch.

He used his tongue to carefully shift the hard thing to the front of his mouth, and, lifting a hand, he pulled it out. He stared in disbelief when he pulled away enough for him to see.

That was a tooth. A back molar, if his memory was right.

He swallowed his mouthful of chicken, which suddenly didn’t taste as appetizing as it had before.

One of his teeth had just come out. His tooth had just fallen out.

He was too old for his teeth to be falling out. He was starting to shake.

He carefully slipped a pair of fingers into his mouth and brushed them along his gums, trying to find which molar had come out. It was the bottom, back molar, on the right side of his mouth. What bothered him more was the fact that the spot where the tooth had come out didn’t feel empty.

Nelson looked down at the tooth in his hand. It looked whole and didn’t seem chipped or damaged, so he couldn’t be feeling broken remains that were left behind.

Dropping the tooth on his desk, Nelson all but sprinted to the office bathrooms. He nearly stumbled outside the men’s room, but caught himself and hurried inside. He darted to the mirror hung over the sinks; he needed to see this. Not just feel it.

Hands shaking, Nelson hooked a finger into the corner of his mouth and pulled his lips back until he could see the space in question.

The molar was gone, and it looked like there was a new tooth growing in. One that definitely wasn’t a molar.

But that couldn’t be possible; Nelson was too old to be growing new teeth. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t old enough to be losing his adult teeth yet. That couldn’t be possible.

Except there was a very real tooth lying on his office desk that said otherwise.

He rubbed a finger over the surprisingly sharp tooth that was, apparently, growing in.

I guess it’s a good thing I hadn’t made that dentist’s appointment yet. I don’t think I could ever explain this. He thought dazedly, still rubbing a finger over the strange tooth. Is-is this why my teeth have been hurting? Because I’m growing a bunch of new teeth?

His heart froze at the thought. It seemed like a worryingly plausible idea.

But why? Why was he growing new teeth? How was it happening? And why was it happening now?!

He gripped the sink to steady himself. The cold, smooth surface under his hands helped steady his racing mind and cooled his aching hands. He couldn’t panic, panicking as a bad idea and could make him do something stupid.

“Okay, Nelson. Calm down; you’re okay. Everything’s okay. It’s just a tooth, one tooth. It’s come out, and it looks like a new one is growing in. Nothing to get frantic about.” Nelson muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his head. “You just- you just need to calm down and think this through. Think of what to do about this.”

He couldn’t speak up about this; he needed to keep it to himself just until he could figure out what was going on.

There was no way he could explain the teeth-thing to his dentist. Not without the man thinking Nelson was trying to prank him (not that the agent ever would) or that he was crazy.

No, it was best if he kept quiet until he could come up with some explanation. And maybe confirm it was just one tooth and not all of them.

He would be okay. He just needed to be calm about all of this. If he stayed quiet, everything would be fine.

At least, that was the chant he kept in his head as he returned to his desk and bagged up the tooth to bring home with him.

As the week went on, at least one of his worries had proven right.

More teeth began falling out, from back to front — each one revealing a new, almost fang-like tooth growing in its place. Nelson started to tighten his smiles, letting his teeth show less and less as the new teeth made their way closer to the front of his mouth.

He started noticing other changes too.

His fingers, specifically his nails, didn’t look right anymore either. They seemed thicker and were changing shape ever so slightly from how he remembered them. He’d never paid a great deal of attention to his nails, beyond keeping them from splitting or chipping in ways that would hurt.

Except, now that his teeth were changing for reasons he didn’t know or understand, he found himself becoming hyper-aware of his body.

(He hadn’t felt this aware of his body since puberty, which was its own brand of internal terror.)

He’d gotten some help from one of his female coworkers, who’d given him a nail file when he mentioned that his nails were bothering him. She seemed to think he was having problems with splits catching on things. He had no plans of correcting her, but it wasn’t the root of the problem.

No, the problem was that his nails seemed less like nails and more like claws. Humans weren’t supposed to have claws. They could have nails that looked like claws if they got them specifically manicured that way. And Nelson had never done anything like that.

The man had no idea what was happening to his body, and it terrified him.

The anxiety was worse when he realized he could find a trend to the changes he was going through.

They were all in spots that had started with an ache that became progressively worse as time went on. And he remembered one other part of his body where he’d been feeling pain.

The lowest part of his back, close to his tailbone.

(Maybe even at his tailbone? He didn’t know exactly where that was on his body.)

He had no explanation for what was going on with him, but there was something that made him wonder.

Every time his mind wandered back to his assignment in Scoggins, he remembered the way his aches spiked into pain whenever he’d encountered the Hidden People.

Was there a connection of some kind? He knew it had started before he went there, but the way it seemed to accelerate while he was there.

It seemed like a crazy idea, but everything about Scoggins had been insane (and he appeared to be transforming), so it seemed like anything was possible at this point.

That left Nelson with few options.

He wanted, no, needed to find out what was going on and there was only one place he could go that seemed to have an answer.

The agent gathered up his supplies, submitted a request for vacation time, and headed back out, back to Scoggins, Minnesota.

When he arrived, he found the town just as still and unsettling as his first visit.

He felt terrible for poor Martha. It was clear the worry and stress were getting to her. He’d had to be very careful and persuasive to convince the woman to let him have a room there again, but he’d managed.

Once he was settled and finally had the chance to start combing the town for information, he learned about the disappearances from Darryl, who was hanging posters of his missing brother, Darrel. About how often and how many there had been over the years. To the point where the residents were barely phased by it anymore. Something that was incredibly worrying in its own right.

Nelson threw himself into his self-appointed investigation and ignoring every spike of pain that hit him on the way.

(But he remembered it. Every surge of pain that shot down his spine. Each one, coupled with the silent prayer that whatever was happening would wait just a bit longer before actually taking effect.)

That visit had been a whirlwind investigation and discovery, shock and fear, and danger and pain.

He’d met a few new people, agreed to help Glori get her husband back, broken into the Sheriff’s office to get more information, and met a fellow puzzle enthusiast. (Who was- Not crazy but most definitely misinformed. If he was polite). He’d had his investigation crashed by fellow FBI agents, was made temporarily mad by the Hidden People, fought the other agents, was his by an insanity-inducing raygun, and destroyed said ray.

Nelson had come out on top; He’d found the missing Issac Danvers, destroyed the Lunacy Ray, and helped the Hidden People finally return home.

And was mildly traumatized by everything and reasonably sure he wasn’t going to have his job for much longer.

He dragged his tired, slightly frostbitten body back to his hotel.

But he knew that once he got back to work, or at least back to his office, there was a chance he wouldn’t have a job anymore. If he was lucky. If he wasn’t, well, there would be a decently comfortable jail cell waiting for him.

But there, safe in his hotel room, having solved his case with no more mysteries dogging his mind, Nelson could rest. He could finally let go of the stress and tenseness that had sunk its claws into him the entire time he’d been in Scoggins. He could finally let himself relax.

And the wall hit him.

It was a sudden, blindside of pain that brought Nelson to his knees. It cut his perception to his body alone, leaving him on his hands and knees on the floor, gasping for breath. He coughed and wheezed, fighting to get his lungs back to their average pace. (Had he screamed? He didn’t think he’d screamed.)

What-what was that?! That wasn’t like anything I’ve felt before. Nelson thought in a pained daze. He vaguely registered something behind him move. Looking back, he felt his brain stalled.

That was a tail. A dark brown, fur-covered tail. A tail that looked like it was attached to him.

Stunned, he reached behind himself and rubbed a hand down his back, confirming that the tail was very real, and very much attached to him.

Laying on the floor of his room, all Nelson could think was that he was glad he’d asked for two weeks of vacation when he’d first set out. So, whether or not he still had a job, no one was expecting him back for a while.

And he needed all the time he could get to deal with this.

And that’s the end! I hope this came out well, and that you all like it. Feel free to leave comments or even give your own two cents on it.

[thewalkingdeadimaginings]

The Extraction

Hi can you do an imagine were the reader has toothache and doesn't want to go to Dr.Carson for an extraction. She doesn't want that Negan hear something about but he will and tries to comfort her. (She is not one of Negans wives because she didn't want to)

Hi guys! I know it has been…an unacceptable amount of time haha! I’ve been away just dealing with some emotional stuff. I wasn’t feeling too motivated to write but I’m back! I was particularly inspired to write this one shot as I chipped my tooth…twice. My tooth chipped because it turns out that I clench my jaw/grind my teeth while I sleep! It was such a tiny chip that my dentist wouldn’t have even noticed it if I hadn’t said anything. For such a tiny chip, it sure did hurt like a bitch. So I spent $180 on a mouth guard and then a few weeks later, I was woken up by a crunching sound. That crunching sound was from my tooth chipping AGAIN. Now, the first time it hurt to chew for a day and then I could chew as normal. This time, the pain lasted for days and now drinking water and breathing in hurt. I got it smoothed down and it felt instantly better so I guess I just needed to smooth it down. If getting the tooth pulled and replaced with a fake tooth wasn’t thousands of dollars, I would’ve just done that because I am DONE with this tooth ahahah. I have also had a tooth pulled before so I feel like I have a bit of an advantage with this one shot 😉 And that is the epic saga with my teeth. Now on to what you came here for! THANKS AS ALWAYS FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND YOUR LOVE <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lived a privileged life in the sanctuary, probably more privileged than the life you lived before the world ended. Negan had noticed you right away and took you in. And despite rejecting a marriage proposal, he had always been kind to you.

“Y/N, you’ve been making that face all day,” Negan remarked when he saw you wince at the pain in your jaw. Your jaw had been killing you for days but you hadn’t said anything about it, hoping it would just go away on its own, “And you haven’t eaten anything. What’s botherin’ you?”

You shrugged as you continued hanging up the wet laundry on a clothesline, “I’m fine. Just not hungry today.”

“We both know you’re a terrible liar,” Negan retorted, a playful smile spreading on his lips. He approached you, pulling a shirt from your hands and dropping it back in the bucket, soapy water splashing back and hitting your legs.

Stepping away from the bucket, you sighed, “If I go see Dr. Carson, who will finish hanging up this laundry?”

“Me,” Negan said, “I’ll do it.”

“You?” you chuckled, crossing your arms, “You’re gonna hang up the laundry for me? You’re not really…hands on, Negan.”

“Hey now, I can be plenty hands on,” Negan said, “Now, you go on and get yourself checked out with Dr. Carson. And I wanna know everything he said, Y/N.”

Negan’s overprotective nature could be a pain sometimes but you definitely felt the love. But you were terrified of what Dr. Carson would say. The tooth causing you trouble now had always caused you trouble even before the world ended. And without proper dental care that was available before, extraction might be the only option now. Unfortunately, that meant there wasn’t anything available to numb the pain either.

You headed for Dr. Carson’s examination room. He was inside putting away supplies that had just been brought in from the last run a few days ago. The door opened with a light groan and you tapped on it, “Carson? Are you busy?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Carson replied, “Come on in, Y/N. What’s bothering you?”

Dr. Carson sat down in his chair, rolling from the counter to the exam table you were taking a seat on. You were tense, kicking your feet and resisting the urge to hold your aching face, “It’s um…well…this is outside your area of expertise but my tooth has been killing me. It’s always been a problem for me but it’s even worse now.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dr. Carson said. You opened your mouth as wide as you could and Dr. Carson took a look in your mouth. His brows lowered, completely outside his realm but genuinely trying to come up with an answer. He turned your head to the side, shining a flashlight into your mouth. You knew exactly what he was going to say before he even said it but hearing it out loud still filled you with dread, “Y/N, I don’t really know much about dental work but I’m thinking that tooth’s gotta come out. Looks pretty bad. If you don’t, I’m concerned that it’ll affect the rest of your teeth.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” you murmured.

“We should get started then,” Dr. Carson said, “Lie down for me.”

“Actually, I have a million things to do right now,” you said, hopping off the table, “Just some painkillers will do for now. Just so I can get through the day, yeah?”

“Y/N…” Dr. Carson said, “Didn’t you hear what I said? I said if you don’t get that tooth taken out, it’ll hurt the rest of your teeth. Then you’ll have to get multiple taken out.”

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. Somehow leaving the tooth alone and risking even more complications sounded much more appealing. Just the thought of having a tooth ripped out of your head made your heart race. You had to stop for a moment to calm your heartbeat and steady your breathing before you really started to freak out, “I just need a little something to get through the day. We can get rid of the tooth another day, okay? Can we do that?”

“I guess so,” Dr. Carson muttered. He rummaged through the cabinets until he found the painkillers. He handed it to you but grabbed you by the hand before you could walk away, “Don’t put this off, Y/N. You can’t rely on those forever.”

“I promise, just for tonight,” you mumbled as you quickly ran out of the exam room, clutching onto the bottle of pills you’d been given. Instead of going back outside to see Negan, you went into your bedroom to take your painkillers. For a brief moment, you contemplated just taking a handful of pills to ensure the pain would go away but you held back and took the correct dosage.

As you took a drink of water to swallow the painkillers, there was a knock at your door, with Negan’s voice coming from the other side, “Y/N? You in there?”

“Yeah,” you called back, “Come on in.”

Negan opened the door and stepped into the room, “Dwight said he saw you pass by from the infirmary. Was it bad news?”

“Of course not,” you said with a tight smile, “Why would you ask that?”

“I figured it was bad since you didn’t come back outside to tell me what happened,” Negan said, “But Dr. Carson checked you out? Nothing?”

“Nope, nothing,” you replied quickly, “Just a little soreness. He gave me something for the pain. I should just get back to work then, right?”

As you headed for the door, Negan stuck out his hand and pressed it against your shoulder to stop you from getting past him, “Y/N, you’re a terrible liar. You think I don’t notice the swelling in your face? Something’s wrong. Do you realize that or are you just ignoring it?”

You covered your swollen jaw. You knew it hurt but you didn’t know it had gotten so bad that it swelled up, “Well…Dr. Carson wants to pull my tooth out. I can’t do that, not without something to numb my gums. It’s gonna be agonizing and I…I’m freaked out, okay?”

Negan frowned, “Y/N, you have to get this taken care of.”

A combination of the pain in your jaw and the fear brought tears to your eyes as you hung your head, lightly pushing Negan away, “Please, don’t make me do it. I can’t do it. I’m too scared.”

“I can understand that,” Negan said, “I’ll be there with you the entire time. I’ll take care of you, Y/N. I think you know by now that all I wanna do is take care of you. Now come on, let’s get this done.”

Dr. Carson was relieved to see you back. He reassured you that everything would be fine although he couldn’t promise a painless procedure. You laid back in the chair, taking deep breaths while Dr. Carson got his tools ready, sanitizing them the best that he could. He was clearly as nervous as you were but he was handling it well, better than you.

“You’re doing great, Y/N,” Negan said, putting his hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his grip offered you comfort for a moment until Dr. Carson brought his tools back on a tray and set them down by the chair. Negan felt you tense in his hand and he gently squeezed, “Just breathe, Y/N. It’ll be over soon.”

You opened your mouth for Dr. Carson and he turned your head slightly to get a better look at the tooth. He put on some gloves, giving you a smile, “We’ll be out of here in no time, Y/N. Good on you for doing this by the way. I know it’s scary.”

“She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” Negan added.

“Let’s…” you paused to take a breath, your tight chest making even that a challenge, “Let’s just do this please.”

“I’ll try to make this quick,” Dr. Carson replied, “I don’t have an elevator to loosen the tooth unfortunately. Don’t think anyone ever thought we’d need dental equipment. But at least we have forceps.”

He picked up the forceps, his brow wrinkled in concentration as he clamped onto the tooth with them. He wiggled the tooth a little at first. The pain wasn’t bad yet but a tear still rolled down your cheek as he started tugging. You weren’t sure how an “elevator” (whatever that was) was supposed to help with the procedure but you still were wishing you had one right about now as he was pulling without any other assistance. Tensing up would make the pain worse but you couldn’t help yourself. Your entire body went stiff as Dr. Carson pulled harder.

Dr. Carson pulled away for a moment as you started to weep and you sat up, “I’m sorry, Y/N. But we’re making progress.”

The coppery taste of your blood hit your tongue and somehow, that was a relief. You nodded, laying your head back once more, “Come on. Finish it.”

“That’s my girl,” Negan said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his skin, normally a nice tan from being out in the sun, had gone almost a ghostly white, “Takin’ this like a champ.”

You reached your Negan’s hand as Dr. Carson took the forceps to your tooth again. The tooth was feeling looser, the taste of copper getting a bit stronger. It wasn’t like the movies where your mouth filled with blood. But it definitely felt like there was. You were in absolute agony, squeezing your eyes shut and fighting back groans. There were only two other people in the room with you but it felt so chaotic in your head that it seemed like there were hundreds of people crowded around. Your eyes darted all around the room as the pressure increased, the tooth starting to wiggle even more. Your toes curled as you heard the sound of something tearing inside your head. That finally made a cry fall from your mouth as the tooth was finally ripped from your head. The pressure and pain were instantly relieved as you stared at your tooth in shock. Even Dr. Carson looked stunned holding your bloody tooth in the forceps.

“Holy shit on a shingle,” Negan whispered, “Ripped that right out of your fuckin’ head, Y/N! And you’re hardly breakin’ a sweat.”

You held your mouth open, almost afraid to close it even as blood mixed with spit was slipping down your chin. Dr. Carson set the tooth and forceps aside and hurriedly gathered up gauze and a bottle of water, “Here drink this.”

You took a few sips just to clean some of the blood from your mouth. The fresh wound was throbbing but the worst was now over and since the painkillers were already coursing through you, the pain was dull. Once your mouth was rinsed out, Dr. Carson carefully placed a clean gauze in the space. You were finally able to close your mouth after that.

“You can rest here if you want,” Dr. Carson remarked as he peeled his gloves off his hands. Watching Dr. Carson was almost amusing. It was like his chest was puffed out, proud of a job well done, “But your bed might be more comfortable.”

“I’ll take her back to her room,” Negan said, “Thanks, Carson.”

Negan and Dr. Carson helped you onto your feet even though you were perfectly fine to stand. Negan walked with you all the way back to your bedroom. He wasn’t normally this hands on but you weren’t going to fight it. You stood in the middle of the room as Negan gathered all your pillows and pulled back your blanket. You laid down on the bed and Negan covered your legs with the blanket, smoothing it down a bit, “Comfy?”

“Very,” you said, slightly muffled by the gauze in your mouth, “Thanks for staying with me.”

Negan laughed at the way your voice was coming out and he nodded, “Sorry for laughing. But you’re welcome, Y/N. You were really brave back there.”

“You think so?” you said.

“Total badass,” Negan said, “You know you don’t have to be afraid. Not with me around. I’m always gonna be there for you, do what I can to help you.”

“Not much help this time,” you replied, “Almost pathed out.”

“I know,” Negan said, his cheeks turning pink as he scratched his head, “Very out of character for me, right? I guess it was just because it was you. And…I dunno…you being in pain, vulnerable. Ya know?”

“I get it,” you said, “Feeling much better now. I think I’ll rest now.”

“You do that,” Negan said, “Carson says gargling salt water will help with healing. I’ll try to find you some salt. And get you something to eat a little later.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, feeling the need for sleep tugging at you, “You’re really special to me, Negan. Never met someone as sweet as you. Even though I’ve rejected you before.”

“Not so bad,” Negan said, “To be honest, my relationship with you…it’s more special than my wives. Don’t tell them that though.”

Negan winked and you couldn’t help but laugh. Negan really was wonderful. Your privileged life was all because of him. No one else would’ve done what Negan had just done for you. No one could’ve helped you through the fear like he could. Even just looking at him made your heart squeeze. Perhaps there was a chance for something more, “Your secret’s safe with me, Negan.”

~~~~~~~~

AHHHH DID I ACTUALLY FINISH A ONE SHOT?! IS THIS REAL LIFE?! Haha! Thanks for being so patient and so sweet with me, you guys. I can’t get over how nice you guys are. I was getting notifications from you guys liking old one shots from a while back. At least a year ago and I’m so glad that you’re still enjoying my writing all this time later.

I actually have had a tooth pulled before so I was trying to remember the procedure itself and how I felt during the entire thing. Granted, I got a needle to the gums so I was numb. Still hurt like a bitch. And also embarrassed myself by having a full blown panic attack when my dentist brought out the needle. So…love that for me. Anyways, for ME personally, it sounded like the tooth was tearing or ripping rather than cracking like you hear in movies. So, if that part sounds inaccurate, I was just basing it on what I remember it sounding like in my head.

ANYWAYS, I love you guys! Next up will be a Daryl one shot! Unless y’all want a chapter from one of my stories? 😉 No Regrets perhaps? Or should Don’t Look Back make its return? Or Beauty of a Secret? Hmmmm….