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#and because of that they were okay with me getting this done. Also you risked getting disonwed by our parents for getting piercings
void-tiger · 1 year
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Some days I think I probably do need an actually trained service animal for mental health crap + the occasional chronic crap affecting my mobility.
But like…I don’t really want a dog. I want a Highly Trained mainecoon or norwegian forest cat. Just. This very large very fluffy very baseline breed intelligent cat known to take on BEARS (or, home invaders and men attempting SA).
I’d be THAT Crazy Lady walking this giant fluff monster most days, but other days just have my lap full of fluff when my hips-down don’t want to cooperate, or I need the comforting weight and fluffy company to hold the brain static at bay.
And some days…look. It hurts to grasp things. Or I risk dropping things. And cats can and will open cupboards and drawers if the handles let them hook their paws Just So to make up for the lack of opposable thumbs.
(Yeah yeah I know people are more accustomed to training dogs for this, but I’ve had quite a bit of luck training my “just housecats” as adults with various things, and people post the adventures they take with their mainecoons like, all the time…so think of what I could do with socializing and training a cat if I had the chance to do so.
(…also I just get along better with cats than dogs. They’re more tolerant to my need to not have a true routine. Also they poop in a box.)
#tiger’s musings#yesterday was…ugh. think my body was fighting off a minor respiratory illness#bUT because I’m also chronically ill + have to take an immunosuppresent it…was not good#like I kinda freaked my online friends out with what my symptoms were#but…I’m just. so used to this. so used to just holding onto walls because I get so unsteady and trying to sleep through these episodes#it’s…definitely Something. not ‘jUST psYCHoSOmATiC’ like I got gaslit into believing 5+ years ago#but…with what turned out to be AS and Probably a CTD and Currently Assumed IBS (but prolly also CTD imo)#I…hadn’t really had a chance to do more than ‘okay so I also have tremors’#but hey. I have to have my annual pcp visit so I’ll make myself whine about it and the fluttery/tight/visible chest&pulse issues then#(they’re probably related. POTS…kinda can cause high bp/tachicardia and sometimes tremors too.)#(and like. high bp is kinda something so common in my family in young adulthood it’s a ‘when’ vs ‘if’)#so…yeah. sometimes I think I might need some sort of chair and service animal#in addition to custom fitted compression globes#and probably compression shorts and spats and sleeves on my knees and elbows#aaaaand prolly custom arch supports. in addition to Nicer Shoes than an Okay $50 newbalance pair#which…yeah. you can see how all this would get Very Expensive Very Fast#(aaaaaaaand… hope I don’t idk. get dropped from my medicaid? listen they’re sending me automated messages to get my risk assessment done)#(and I’ve got so much going on that I would be Screwed even if I hadn’t aged out of my dad’s insurance)#(it definitely affects me being able to work and keep a job)
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gghostwriter · 2 months
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You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it
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Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)
Warning: fluff! Just fluff!
A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!
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The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man
“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 
Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”
Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 
“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”
“Reid.” 
“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 
Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 
“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.
“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 
“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 
Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”
“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 
“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 
Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.
“So what’s your play then?”
His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 
“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 
“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”
“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”
Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?
———
Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?
It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.
Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 
“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.
You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”
“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”
Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.
“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.
He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 
Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.
Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”
You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 
When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.
“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 
“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”
He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”
You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”
He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”
You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 
“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 
Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.
The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit
“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 
Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”
“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.
“Have you ever asked her out?”
There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."
“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 
One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 
———
There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 
A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 
“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.
You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 
“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”
“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”
That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.
“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”
Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”
You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 
“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”
“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”
He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”
You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”
He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 
Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 
The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 
“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.
“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.
“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 
“What? No! No, of course not!” 
“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 
Silence. Oh.
Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”
“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”
“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”
“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”
“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”
She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”
He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.
“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”
He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 
“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 
He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 
“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 
“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”
She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”
“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”
“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”
“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”
“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.
“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”
He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.
———-
It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 
He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.
He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 
He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.
As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”
He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.
“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”
He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.
“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.
Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 
“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 
He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 
You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”
He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”
And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius
With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 
Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 
He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  
Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.
———
You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 
“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”
He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.
“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”
Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 
“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”
He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”
You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.
“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 
A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”
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narmothewraith · 1 year
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Dyed my hair yesterday btw :)
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Also liked it without the green, so I had blonde streaks through my hair but I wanted to dye my hair for almost 3 years an unnatural colour so maybe the next time I just go with blonde through my hair :)
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sofiawritesstuff · 2 months
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Platonic
part 1
summary: When Lando’s “playboy” image is setting a bad reputation for him. He’s turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: none (i don’t think)
This is my first time writing, I hope you all enjoy and if there’s any advice you guys can give me to improve please do!!
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“Please, please! You’re my best friend. I just need this one favour!” Lando begs following you around at a quick pace.
“Exactly Lando” you sigh before continuing “I’m your best friend and as much as I love you I just don’t think it would work or be realistic” you shrug, taking a bottle of cold water from his fridge
“Why? Why don’t you think it can be realistic! Fans accuse us of being together all the time because of how close we are! The only thing that would have to change would be not denying it…and maybe kissing” he whispers the last part
“Kissing!” you shout choking on the water “We’ve done it before!” he defends “Yeah when we were like 11!”
“And 14, and 17!”
“You’re not helping yourself Lando”
“Please, it would just have to be for a few months then we could say we were better off as friends. Please. I don’t want to be in a PR relationship with some random model who’s looking to gain attention for a brand” Lando sighs, visibly upset
“Can you give me time to sleep on it? You know I love you but I don’t want this to come between our friendship”
“We’re strong, think of everything and everyone that tried to separate us before we never let them come between us”
“Which is why I can’t risk loosing you, there a difference between a girlfriend not liking me that tries to separate us and faking a relationship Lando”
“I understand” he nods “I promise you, you will have an answer before the start of the race weekend. I’m gonna head to bed now okay. I love you” you hug him tightly before heading to the spare room in his apartment.
It wasn’t the first time you had turned down Lando, in fact he had asked you out every year from the age of 14 until you guys were 18 before he finally realised that you wouldn’t work.
It’s not thst you didn’t like Lando, you loved him and maybe you did have feelings for him. But the thought of loosing your friendship because of relationship scared you.
For most hours of the night you lay in the bed of Lando’s spare room at his apartment in Monaco, that was quickly known as your room, thinking about what Lando said.
You supported him before his career even started and Lando’s reputation with girls certainly wasn’t the best. The media painted him to be a “playboy” and “unloyal”, which in some senses he was. He had never cheated on his previous girlfriends but he did date his ex’s friends and colleagues.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a harm to pretend for a few months? But what if your feelings began to grow stronger and you may not be able to go back to the way you were with Lando?
Lando was the same just through the wall, his feelings for you never left him. All the girlfriends he had he never felt for them what he felt for you, which was terrible but also why he was now single. He wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to agree but he didn’t want his feelings to get in the way, especially when he didn’t know that you felt the same way.
The next morning, you woke up to the usual clatter of plates from the kitchen. Which never meant anything good.
“What are you attempting to make this morning Mr Norris?” you laugh watching him by the pan “French toast but it’s not going well” he answers not taking his eyes of the food
“Well for starters, you’ve completely burned the bread. Would you like some help?” you ask holding back a loud laugh “Please”
The two of you started over, putting the uneatable food in the correct bin. You focused on the food while Lando focused on the coffee.
“There you go Lan”
“Thank you, how’d you sleep last night?” he asks putting the food in his mouth “To be honest, not great i’ve been thinking about what you said”
“You have?” Lando asks dropping his food “I will help you, if you promise me that we will still be best friends at the end of everything”
“Pinky promise”
part 2
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gb-patch · 1 month
Text
GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update
Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.
However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.
As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.
Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.
Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.
I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.
If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.
Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.
Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.
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a-aexotic · 2 years
Note
HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
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You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
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cilliansmesoftly · 2 months
Text
talk too much
pairing: glen powell x fem!reader
summary: you’re glen’s makeup artist for twisters and he won’t stop talking
warning: based on that one tiktok of glen getting his makeup done for hit man and his mouth is nonstop moving, kissing, glen being a professional yapper
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ working with glen was seriously a dream. he was kind, smart, funny, hard-working. he was everything a man should be and you loved being his makeup artist.
the only downside was his lack of understanding when to shut the hell up.
you loved his stories, you loved hearing about his life, but when you’re trying to perfect his skin prep and makeup, it’s a little difficult to focus when all glen can do is distract you.
“oh, y/n,” glen groaned in disgust turning his head away and wiping at his lip. “you got primer in my mouth.”
and what you wanted to say was, “then shut your damn mouth while my hands are near your lips.” but you didn’t, you just quietly apologized and got back to work. he had to be on set in twenty minutes and you were no where near being done because of glen and his indestructible vocal cords. you and him got into a lot of trouble on set for being late to shoots, but what could you do? tell your boss to be quiet and risk being fired? absolutely not, so you just kept quiet and tried to get his makeup done quickly and as best as you could.
glen was talking away about this dog he wanted to get and you were listening, truly you were, but you were also color correcting the slight bags under his eyes and a few blemishes near his chin. suddenly, glen laughed at something and you smudged concealer all on his bottom lip and down his chin.
“shit!” you cursed, getting a makeup wipe from your desk and carefully wiping away the mess on his face.
“it’s okay.” he said carefully, grabbing the wipe from your hand to wipe it away himself so you could take a break. “you don’t have to rush, y/n.”
“yes i do, you only have,” you checked the small watch on your wrist. “13 minutes until you have to be on set and i haven’t even blended your concealer yet. they’re gonna get rid of me, i just know it.”
“it’s kind of hard for them to get rid of you when you’re my personal makeup artist.” he cockily reminded you. you scowled at his smirking face and took the wipe from his hand. your index finger and thumb held his chin while you gently swiped his bottom lip. glen started to talk again and you sighed in frustration as you had to concentrate even harder to not get the wipe into his moving mouth. “i don’t quite like the taste of makeup remover, babe.”
“then shut the fuck up!” you finally lost it. you finally snapped at the nicest man on earth and you immediately stepped back. “i’m so sorry, glen.”
“it’s okay.” he said, reaching for your hand. “you know, you can tell me you need me to close my lips. i just get so nervous around you, my mouth goes a thousand miles a minute.”
you perked up immediately. glen doesn’t get nervous around anyone. why would he get nervous around you? before you could speak, glen beat you to it, as usual.
“i hired you on personally because i think you’re seriously talented, first of all, but also because you’re the most beautiful, kind, and caring girl i’ve ever met.” he turned to you in his swivel chair. “and it’s okay if you don’t want me back, i completely understand and i’ll never, ever, ever bring it up again, but please don’t quit. i couldn’t take losing you as a friend, y/n. i wouldn’t even know what to do-”
you don’t why you did it. maybe it was because you were annoyed at his ramblings, or perhaps it was because you realized you had always liked him too, ever since you got put on your first job with glen, years ago. but you leaned and captured your lips with his. glen reacted immediately, bringing you closer to him by your hips. your hands went into his hair and you’re sure you were probably messing up almost all the work you had just tried so hard to finish, but you didn’t care.
as you felt glen’s hands round your ass, you pulled back slightly breathless with a smile on your face. “you talk too much.”
“well, put your lips on mine and shut me up.”
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sanarsi · 18 days
Text
Cheri Cheri Lady
stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader
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Summary: Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger. Warnings: +18, MDNI, porn with a little bit of plot, professor!Reed (only mentioned so it’s not that important), age gap, daddy kink, fingering, nipple play, praise kink, unprotected PIV, creampie Wordcount: 2,5k An: This is especially for @joelssluttyknee (I’m sorry it took me so long). Not exactly professor vibe but still hope you like it :) Also, I want to thank you for 1k followers. Like— it’s kinda crazy how this blog grew so fast in such a short time. Love y’all and thank you so so so much!!! Music I worked with: Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking
Masterlist
Warm days have finally arrived. Your weekend lounging on a deck chair has become a routine, and after a while, not just yours.
It wasn't even noon yet when you were adjusting your sunglasses, sipping iced tea, and listening to the radio in the background. A gentle smile appeared on your face as you noticed out of the corner of your eye your stepfather turning from his stomach to his back.
He only lasted one weekend of watching you through the kitchen window before he decided to join you every time under the pretext of ‘I turned pale and looked unhealthy’. Your mother obviously believed it, why wouldn't she? Reed was the epitome of a perfect husband and stepfather, and your mother was happy that you two were finally getting along again.
If only she knew how exactly the two of you got along…
“I’m going to the store, do you want anything?” Her voice echoed from somewhere in the direction of the house.
You didn’t even glance in her direction before you shouted back, “Nah, we’re good.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Reed, take the chicken out of the freezer.”
“Sure, honey,” he replied, raising a hand to let her know he understood, in case she hadn’t heard him.
Just when you thought she had left because the silence was getting longer, she spoke again, "Remind your father to use sunscreen."
You rolled your eyes under your closed eyelids and sighed quietly.
"I've already done it twice."
"So do it a third time."
Like a martyr, you bent down to the grass for the cream, knowing your mother was watching everything. You didn't want to risk her wrath because ever since she started menopause, she had been unbearable.
“Apply it or you’ll burn yourself,” you said and placed the tube on his warm chest. He hissed at the sudden thermal shock, at which you started laughing and you could have sworn that you heard your mother snort quietly.
"Hag," he muttered under his breath.
"I'll be back by one." After a moment, her retreating footsteps could be heard, but before she left the house, her muffled scream rang out, "Chicken!"
Then there was only the slam of a door, the sound of an engine starting, and a large, warm hand on your thigh.
“You hear that?”
“Hm?” you murmured questioningly, even though you knew very well what he meant.
"We have an hour," he announced, allowing his hand to start moving towards your crotch. You flinched, pretending that you were actually shifting in the lounger, and sighed.
"Yeah, I don't know if—"
"Come to daddy."
You fell silent, feeling a hot flame bloom in your lower abdomen and looked to the side, immediately locking eyes with him. You loved teasing him but when he spoke to you in that tone and looked at you that way, you couldn't keep your guard up for long. His fingers tightened almost against your temple and you barely managed to keep from moaning.
“Come on, sweet girl.” He smiled encouragingly, nodding towards his thighs. You bit your lower lip, gaze sliding down his golden skin that was gleaming slightly from the sunlight.
You were shocked at how quickly he became the most handsome and attractive man in the world for you. Even though at first you resisted everything that was happening between you two, you quickly realized that it was pointless because Reed simply didn't give a shit.
You could be mad at him, tell him he's disgusting, that you should end it, and he never once took your words seriously, ended up fucking you on the desk in his office after class.
His hand tightened on yours, snapping you back to reality and pulled you gently towards him. You didn't even try to resist and just sat on top of him. You settled comfortably and he gladly helped you, using his fingers to massage your hips.
“Hi, daddy,” you started, immediately stepping into your favorite role.
“Hi, baby.” His smile was priceless.
At first, you were skeptical about this role-playing. It felt weird calling him that, considering your situation – he really was your father.
Well… stepfather.
Still, that's what your mother called him.
Help your father make dinner.
Father needs help in the garden
Go to the store with your father.
But surprisingly, it came easily and you started to enjoy it pretty quickly, and when you did, Reed was in seventh heaven. Sometimes you even called him dad in front of your mother, who was touched by it and he, who was turned on by this.
Then he liked to punish you for arousing him in the presence of that woman.
“You look so pretty in that pink swimsuit.” He hooked his fingers around the tie at your hip and slowly tugged on the string, letting the piece of material reveal your pussy.
“Thanks, I got it as a gift from my dad.”
“Hm,” he hummed, stroking your soft skin and watching, hypnotized, as his fingertips traveled down, getting closer to your core. “Your daddy knows what color perfectly highlights those sweet tits.”
Arousal hit your lower abdomen like a bucket of cold water. You sighed, shifting on his thighs, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his hand disappear beneath you. You shivered as you felt his thick fingers running along the length of your slit.
“Look at you, already so wet for daddy,” he purred in satisfaction and moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck. You moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back as he began to tease your hole so that more of your juices would wet his fingers. Wet kisses began to decorate your skin as he slowly made his way to your breasts. “Give me that sweet cherry. Need to taste her.”
You looked down with your mouth parted and slowly pushed the material covering your tits aside. Not even a second had passed before it was in his mouth. You watched as his tongue circled the hard nipple and he sucked it in with a purr. His fingers slowly entered you deeper, sending a wave of shivers every time he curled them. Soft moans began to leave your lips and you allowed yourself to play with his hair to somehow ground yourself and not drown in the pleasure.
“Daddy…” you sighed, slowly rubbing your hips.
“What is it, baby?” he asked, without breaking away from your tit. You shuddered as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.
“Need you, daddy. Please.”
“My big girl needs me?” You nodded eagerly, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning louder. “Want daddy’s cock?” He finally looked at you and you couldn't help but smile widely.
He loved seeing you like this, loved making you carefree and happy. He would sin if he left you to your fate.
"Mhm," you hummed, hugging him tighter and moving closer, impaling yourself more on his fingers. An uncontrollable moan escaped your throat because his two fingers were definitely enough to make you lose your breath.
Reed smacked his lips disapprovingly as he saw the small frown forming between your brows. “So thirsty.”
He reached his other hand down to his shorts and squeezed his hard cock. A soft growl escaped him as he slowly began to pump himself through his pants.
"Daddy's already so damn hard for you, baby. Need to feel that sweet little cunt throbbing all over my cock."
You howled, feeling more aroused by the fact that he was touching you and himself at the same time. You fell silent, staring at each other with eyes filled with desire. His cock hardened every time you rode his fingers, moaning softly. He loved hearing the sounds that left your lips when he pleasured you. Your clit began to throb as you chased your fulfillment but Reed had other plans for you.
He pulled his fingers out of you, which was met with a whine from you. “Daddy, please…” you begged desperately to feel him inside you.
He looked at you with pity. “My poor little thing,” he smacked, gently stroking your cheek. He wanted to tease you some more but then he felt your juices dripping down his thigh and he barely held back an animalistic growl. “Fuck. Come ‘ere baby.”
He quickly slid his shorts down enough to pull his cock out. Your mouth watered at the sight of his glistening precum as it slowly dripped down his length. You immediately lifted your hips and moved closer to him. He held one hand around the base and the other caressed your thigh.
“Sit down,” he ordered without taking eyes off your pussy. He didn't have to tell you twice.
You slowly lowered your hips, allowing his head to slide inside and gasped before letting all your weight fall against him. You both moaned as your bodies were able to connect again after a few days of being apart. He wanted to enjoy this feeling but you didn't give him a chance, starting to rub yourself against him. His cock smoothly teased your cervix and happy trail your clit.
"I missed you," you sighed with a lazy smile and moved closer, resting your forehead against his. He hissed as you tightened around him.
“I missed you too, baby girl.”
He gripped your hips, helping you speed up your movements. You dug your nails into nape of his neck and your moans dying in his mouth as he kissed you deeply. His lips tasted even better than last time, and even though you were riding him, your desire only seemed to grow.
You responded to his wet kisses with commitment and started to lift your hips a little so that you could fall on him and let him painfully but pleasantly penetrate you. Reed was breathing heavily, a throaty groan leaving him each time he buried himself inside you to the very base.
If you could, you would try to take him deeper so his balls could also experience the feeling of being inside your warm core. You were horny for him and didn't even try to hide it, which only gave him more pleasure.
"Easy, baby, we have an hour, not ten minutes, and that's how long I will last if you don't slow down,” he warned, amused by how eagerly you were jumping on his dick. Not that it bothered him, he just wanted to enjoy you a little but you obviously had other plans.
“Can’t. Need you so bad, daddy,” you squealed in desperation. Reed rarely saw you like this, so he figured that this once, he could give you exactly what you needed. He hugged you and started to rub your back soothingly.
“Then maybe daddy can help you a little, hm?” he suggested and you honestly had no idea what to expect because despite his warm tone, there was a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. But you were too desperate to think about it, let alone care, so you nodded eagerly.
“Yes, please.”
That was enough for him to reconnect your lips in a kiss and his arms wrapped around you way too tightly. You sucked in a breath as you realized he was trying to immobilize you. You whimpered impatiently and let him shift slightly beneath you. Just a few inches was enough for the angle at which he entered you to make your hips tremble. You had time to get used to the new feeling and get everything you could from it, but that wasn't the point and you found out about it quite aggressively.
“Hold still,” he threw before he started to thrust his hips up.
Hard.
You opened your eyes wide, gasping for air as he entered you with aggressive movements and slowly pulled out. The moans started to become more like cries each time he entered you harder, deeper.
“Fuck— Daddy!” you screamed, clinging to his neck and bit your lip hard, trying to hold back your animal sounds.
Reed was too focused on fucking you to care if you were getting oversensitive.
Until safeword didn’t leave your lips, his mind would drift and his primal instincts would take over. He was just a man who had the exclusive possession of a wet, tight pussy whose owner he loved like crazy.
“Shh, just need to remind this sweet little hole ‘bout good manners,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “She clearly forgot that sucking daddy's cock like that is very selfish of her.”
You squealed louder and clung to him tighter as the burning sensation began to turn into the ever-increasing waves of an approaching orgasm. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and wetness of your cunt when his cock entered you was mind-blowing.
"Daddy just wanted to enjoy you a little and here you are, so greedy and needy. Not nice, baby. Not. Nice,” he smacked his lips with disapproval. You could barely catch your breath, let alone understand his words, but you knew he wasn't pleased because with each word he thrust into you harder and harder.
“Gonna come,” you managed to say.
"Oh and now you're gonna cum without my permission? What a naughty girl."
After these words you felt him playfully hit your cheek. You whined like a wounded animal as his cock sent the last waves of pleasure into your core before you disintegrated in his arms. You started to tremble as you milked his cock and he just laughed with satisfaction.
“That’s right, baby. So beautiful when you cum all over daddy’s cock,” he praised you and pressed you harder against his chest, letting himself ride out his orgasm. “Want me inside?”
His whisper against your ear sent another wave of shivers down to your core. You clenched around his cock, earning a heavy pant from him in response.
“Yes, daddy.”
“Attagirl.”
Then it was just your hypersensitive throbbing pussy and his seed flowing out of you as he continued to thrust until he came down from his peak, panting heavily.
You lay helplessly on his chest, bathed in sweat and sun. His heart was beating hard, you could feel his strength on your cheek. You spent a few minutes in silence, calming your breaths and every now and then, his lips found their way to your forehead, placing gentle kisses there while he stroked your hair.
The exhaustion was taking its toll, you were fulfilled lying comfortably in his arms bathed in warm rays. You didn't need anything more for your eyelids to start getting heavy.
"I would let you sleep like this but we have to make dinner before your mother gets back," he said with a soft smile which earned you a tortured groan in response. You sat up and looked down at him before you placed a few more soft kisses on his lips.
"Yeah, okay," you nodded, getting up from the lounger and started to fix your swimsuit. Reed stood up right after you and slapped your ass before heading home. You looked at his bare back and felt like a hungry animal watching his muscles work.
This man was going to be the death of you and that was for sure.
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arminsumi · 9 months
Text
S. Geto ★ Brother's Best Friend
Breaking the bed with your brother's best friend!
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★ Requested by anon
★ Pairings : fem reader / badboy!Geto
★ Synopsis : even though he made a promise to your brother, Suguru Geto just couldn't keep his hands off of you.
★ Warnings : 18+ content, secret sex, brother's best friend trope, toys, visiting adult store, mutual m*sturbation, solo male m*sturbation, fantasies, creampie, pillow riding, sexting, wall/standing sex, mentions f*ngering, mentions bl*wjob, +++
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Your brother always made sure that you and his best friend weren't alone together for too long. He totally restricted you and him from becoming friends, because he knew that neither of you two would be able to stay just friends.
Whenever Suguru had your company, he got flirtier. His mannerisms. His word choices. Compliments just spilled from his lips. He'd undress you with his eyes.
The chemistry between you two always made you squeeze your thighs together tightly.
Suguru Geto was a sorely attractive and alluring man. How could you not be turned on by him?
He had that slim-fit physique. Tattoos. A natural sultriness. That mysterious "he could be a cult leader for all I know" feeling about him.
He was also honest and spoke his mind.
"No offence," he said to you once, "But all the men you've dated are losers. All they've done is leave you with a broken heart."
You replied exactly how he'd hoped you'd reply; "I know. Do you know any better man?" you said suggestively, inching closer to him.
"I wish..." he huffed with a smile.
You pawed at his chest, "Suguru, my brother doesn't have to know about us..."
His heart beat rapidly and he felt his neck tense up.
Gently, he grabbed your hands and pried them off of his t-shirt.
"No, I made a promise to him that I wouldn't mess around with you. Okay?" he said determinedly.
Your funny little pout hurt him, because even though you tried to be comedic about his rejection he could still sense your deep sadness and desperation for him.
****
So many times during sleepovers, you had to get off on your pillow after hugging Suguru goodnight.
He was definitely being a bad boy, taking risks like hugging you when your brother was around. It earned a tense response from your brother, but Suguru quickly scurried off to the guest bedroom and acted like he did nothing.
Your bedroom was situated right next to the guest bedroom.
The walls were thin.
You could vaguely hear him grunting and throatily groaning as he pounded his fleshlight in the middle of the night.
He was most definitely being verbal on purpose, because in reality he was one of those silent type guys during sex. Suguru knew what he was doing. He always knew what he was doing, even when he wore those thin-fabric sweatpants that showed the outline of his huge cock snuggling against his muscular thigh. And all those times you "accidentally" walked in on him changing his shirt, he made his abs twitch and flex a little for you.
Suguru was always doing things in consideration of your horniness. He knew you had a hard time holding back, so he tested you — he tested your determination to not fuck your brother's best friend.
It was difficult to refrain from sneaking into the guest bedroom and hopping on his dick, it really was.
You rutted against the pillow and tweaked and pinched your nipples, chasing your pleasure.
The sound of slapping balls and lubed up thrusting carried through the wall as Suguru gave his fleshlight a heavy, sloppy pounding.
Suguru spiced things up and called out your name in a soft murmur, hoping you were listening.
"Mmm." you hummed back. He just barely heard it, but it made him grin naughtily.
He stopped pounding away at his toy, and drew his forearm across his forehead to wipe his sweat. He pulled out his phone and texted you.
📨 1 NEW
Suguru: i heard that. someone's wide awake 👀 You: yeah :( ur fault!! Suguru: my fault? how? 😗 You: u hugged me too tight earlier n got me worked up Suguru: haha just hugging got you horny? that's adorable You: stfu i didn't say i'm horny 🤬 Suguru: yeah right. bet you're humping ur hand listening to me rn lol You: nope Suguru: i don't believe u 🤨 u were totally listening. my fleshlight told me. it was pussy to pussy communication You: lol You: yeahh i was listening You: and squeezing my tits with both hands and riding my pillow 😇 Suguru: fuck Suguru: come over You: haha no way i'd wake up the neighborhood Suguru: dw i have ways to shut you up 😉
If your brother knew that at 1 AM that night, you snuck out and let Suguru finger you to your orgasm and gave him a blowjob, then he would have grilled both of you like meat on a barbeque.
But he never found out. Suguru held his moans in and gritted his teeth, and he covered your mouth with his big hand to stifle any noise coming out of you.
Suguru was turned on that he had this little secret with you.
Sleepovers became more anticipated. Your brother was confused sometimes, because while he liked having his best friend staying the night, Suguru was often over-enthusiastic at the idea.
"Oh I can stay the night?" it was the way his eyes lit up and his tone raised like he'd just gotten a hint about his Christmas present.
It always played out the same.
Suguru would be jerking off to you, thumbing through his favorited pictures — you know, those panty pictures and swimsuit ones that you wanted his verdict on. Well his verdict was groaning and throwing his head back and having a full-body orgasm.
If you were still awake, you'd whimper through the wall for him. He'd press himself against the cold wall and stroke his cock hard and fast until his balls bounced.
It became a thing.
Come the morning, the two of you would pretend nothing happened. But that knowing glint was always in his eyes.
****
In time, Suguru started drooling and obsessing over the idea of having sex with you. The tension between you and him had been reaching a peak.
Risky touches. Hot glances. Flirty tones. Sneaky sexting. Lingering hugs.
He took you out to the adult store under the pretense that he was just taking you shopping. Your brother let it slide, since you threw a fake temper tantrum about it until you got your way.
"You're such a spoiled princess." Suguru flirted when he pulled out of the driveway.
You giggled behind him, holding on tight as he rode off down the street, motorcycle rumbling loud.
He slung an arm around you in public and gave you kisses, thriving on the jealous looks that the two of you received from passers-by.
In the adult store, he agreed to buy you anything your heart wanted as long as you gave him proof that it was being put to good use.
Of course, he was buying you a toy that was as similar to his own cock as possible.
"And angel, don't get too attached to silicone. Nothing beats the real thing." he said.
"Oh yeah?" you batted your lashes at him.
When you batted your lashes like that, he snapped right there — the invisible restraints that kept him from breaking his promise to your brother broke.
He took you home, saw that your brother texted him will be home at 5-ish and then wasted no time before fucking your brains out right there up against the wall.
Once wasn't enough for either of you, so Suguru slipped his cock out and carried you to the bedroom.
****
"Su-su—Suguru! Not so hard! Y-you'll break the bed!" you said.
You were caged under Suguru's muscular body as he relentlessly pounded his cock into you, hitting deep spots that your newly bought toy surely wouldn't ever read — good. You'd crawl back to him for more.
"I don't care, let it break." he grunted into your ear.
He tried new angles until his cock pressured against your G-spot. You gasped and your moans quickly developed into stuttering incoherence.
"Fuck fuck fuck Suguru! Suuuguru! I'm so close, I'm gonna cum!" you screamed.
"Yeah? I'm close too, baby." he groaned. "Rub your clit faster, cum with me."
"W-we really shouldn't be doing this, mmm!" you moaned.
He smirked, "Yeah yeah, I know that turns you on more. Fucking slut. Cum with me and keep your pretty mouth shut about this."
Suguru brought you to a long orgasm. He groaned and his jaw went slack as he creampied his best friend's sister's pussy.
When he rolled off and caught his breath, he felt a small guilt but it was quickly smothered when you rolled back on top to kiss him hard.
"I think we broke the bed..." he chuckled.
"... oh. Shit." you giggled.
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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unclewaynemunson · 11 months
Text
Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
Note
oooo sanemi request - idea - you're training to be a new haishra and are very very very very nice to everyone, queue tragic af backstory and you believe in kindness IDK ok, cruelty made sure you kept your heart soft, but when you are FIGHTING there is nothing but darkness what happens when that trance doesn't leave you for a while & to snap out of it only sanemi is enough?
It's the tiniest bit different from what you requested, but I hope you like it anyway! Also, thank you so much for your cover suggestions 🤍
Sanemi Shinazugawa pulling you out of your trance with his own methods
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: What a kind and tender soul you are, loved by everyone around you. Until you get into a fight. Until the only person who is able to pull you back to reality is the wind hashira coming to safe you.
Warnings: average sanemi language, fluff fluff fluff, some spelling errors since I wasn't able to finish proofreading
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„Me telling him? Are you actually insane? You’re the one Kocho-san sent”
“But you came with me. You go tell him!”
“Ain’t no way!”
“Telling me what?”
Their blood freezes in their veins instantly. Over and over, the wind hashira made it all too clear that they aren’t allowed to let you alone. Never. Not on a mission, not when there’s a high risk of you losing yourself. Because once you’re gone, there’s only one person who’s able to pull you back into reality.
“Well…(y/n)-sama…She…”
They don’t even have to finish this sentence for Sanemi to know exactly what’s going on. Are you okay? Are you facing some strong demons at the moment? His heart overfills with rage and anxiety to the point where he can’t take it anymore.
“Didn’t I tell you fools every single fucking time to look out of her? Useless brats. Show me where she is”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
It takes all his inner strength to not slam them into a tree nearby. Those fucking jerks had one job. That’s why he always insists on coming with you, because what if you lose yourself again with no way out but him? What if he’s too far away to drag you into safety in time?
“Hurry the fuck up!”
“Please don’t worry about me all the time, Sanemi. I can’t stand the thought of you being distressed because of me.”
Yeah, to hell with your angelic voice and your kind eyes. Fuck your gorgeous appearance, your uniform that makes you look like an angel walking on earth. You, a true sweetheart who is loved by everyone without any exceptions. And him, who built a wall around his heart only you were able to overcome.
But when you fight against demons, that tender self of yours vanishes into thin air. The second death and fright surround you, you turn into a serial killer who doesn’t show any mercy. Especially towards demons, but when a human comes into your way…
Sanemi picks up his pace in an instant. He can’t allow something like that to happen, he can’t stand that look of deep sorrow written on your face the second you realized what you’ve done in your trance. He just has to make sure this fight ends on time, that he’s able to pull you back into reality like he always does.
He and only him. Not even Shinobu is able to reach your mind when you lose yourself. In fact, no one but Sanemi is. Why on earth him? Out of all people you could trust this much, you somehow chose him. Oh, he definitely doesn’t deserve any of the feelings you hold for him, he doesn’t deserve you even looking his way. After all, everyone sees nothing but a menace in him with even his little brother fearing him to the core.
“(y/n)…s-sama?”
His blood freezes in an instant. There you stand with your arm buried in the chest of the demon lying to your feet and your eyes gleaming bloody red. How long did you fight already? How long has this been going on without him knowing?
“Get away from here before she rips your heads off”, the bars behind him.
You don’t speak, furious orbs now fixated on Sanemi. In the split of a second you dash towards him, ready to slice his throat open with your bare fingernails. Just in time he manages to get a hold of your wrist and push you into the ground, his whole bodyweight now lying on top of you.
“(y/n)”, he mutters softly.
A violent scream escapes your lips, limbs desperately fighting to get away from him. Oh, how much Sanemi hates to see you in that state. Shinobu was never able to find out why you turned into this when facing danger. Despite your tender and warm personality, despite your remarkable sword skills and technique, you lose control over your own mind and body when the situation around you gets too heated.
None of that matters now. Sanemi grabs your body from behind and pulls you into his lap while placing gentle kisses on your neck.
“It’s fine, (y/n). Just come back to me. Those demon are gone, got it?”
The shell of your body still fights for freedom, still doesn’t accept to be held by him.
“Come back, (y/n). I’m here. Everything’s fine.”
Is that…Sanemi talking to you? Your vision is foggy, eyes roaming around what looks like a dark forest. Your whole body is covered in ice cold sweat, your heart hammers so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute.
It happened again.
“Sanemi”, you breathe his name into the night while allowing yourself to collapse against his chest.
You lost yourself again. Did you hurt someone? Why were you here? How-
“Don’t worry, you’re alright.”
“And the-“
“No one got hurt”, he reassures you in an instant.
“I…lost again”, you mumble defeated.
You’re able to control every single fiber in your body, can wield a sword so delicately that Ubayishiki-sama even chose you to join the circle of pillars. But still, you lose yourself when facing a heated fight.
“Don’t worry too much, nothing happened and I was home”, Sanemi mutters into your hair.
“Thank you for coming. And…for everything else. I’m sorry for making such a mess over and over. You must-”
“Nah, I don’t wanna hear you putting yourself down again, (y/n). You’re good, okay? I don’t mind looking after you at all, to be honest.”
You don’t know what came over you. Is it the anger, the frustration over your own disability? You can’t help but swing around, arms wrapped around Sanemi’s larger frame while you allow your head to rest against his steady heartbeat.
“It’s just so frustrating. From one second to the other, I lose the power over my own body. If it wasn’t for you, who know what I’d do to innocent people around. I’m a weapon, Sanemi. To even be considered a hashira-“
“Stop talking nonsense”, he interrupts you gently, his hand pulling your chin up to force you to look at him.
“You’re wiping the floor with our asses in training. Most of us hashira can’t stand a chance against you. You are pure and kind, loved by everyone. We don’t give a single shit about that happening from time to time. And like I said, I’m always here to pull you back into reality.”
“You’re my greatest treasure, Sanemi”, you mutter.
Tears immediately shoot in your eyes, take away that gorgeous sight in front of you. Truth is, you love Sanemi Shinazugawa with all your heart. Since he first barked at you, since you sat underneath a tree the whole night and talked about all the things both of you been through, since he put you out of your episode for the first time. Oh, how much you adore that man.
“Don’t talk nonsense, (y/n). I’m worse than everyone else.”
His heart stings violently when nothing but the truth leaves his mouth. He doesn’t deserve your praise, let alone your glossy orbs staring up at him. Fuck, he shouldn’t even put his arms around you like that. Not when you’re an angel while he’s a no one. Not when you could have anybody else, a man who deserves your kind words, to see your lovely figure every morning after waking up.
“I don’t care about others. You’re the one that I love, Sanemi. Because you make me feel good about myself, because you bring me back to reality when I can’t return on my own. You’re rough, you’re suborn and you can be kind of mean-“
“Only because some of these jerks deserve it”, he grumbles.
“But apart from that, you are a kind and loving man. I can’t help but search for you in a crowd of people, I am forced to ask myself every time what you’d do in my place. You’re constantly on my mind. Your words, your skills, your voice. Just…you. I can’t get enough of you.”
“Stop making fun of me…”
Fuck, he can feel his face heating up in an instant. This can’t be true, right? Why would a girl like you fall for someone like him? Maybe you’re still a little dizzy and can’t understand the meaning of your words, maybe-
“I’d never make fun of you.”
And then your lips meet his. So unexpectedly that his widen eyes stare at your soft features in utter disbelief, so innocently that he can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming. You, kissing him?
“You’re gonna regret this when you’re clear again, (y/n)”, Sanemi mumbles against your lips.
“Look into my eyes. I am clear, Sanemi. In fact, I’ve never been clearer in my entire life. I love you.”
You kiss him. Over and over, your soft lips brush against yours while he can’t help but wrap his arms around you in a desperate attempt to keep you this close. His heart pounds so loud that you’re definitely able to her it, his fingertips get lost in your hair.
“I love you too, (y/n). Fuck, I love you so much”, he finally replies.
“I’m so lucky for having you.”
“You, lucky to have me? Hell, I’m the luckiest guy on earth”, Sanemi grumbles with his hand gently caressing your cheek.
This is real. Not a cruel trick his spooky brain plays on him, not one of the dreams that keep him up all night wanting more. No, your head really rests against his chest, you really have your arms wrapped around his body still, you really kissed him.
“No wonder it took you so long to come back, Shinazugawa. I didn’t know you were busy with (y/n).”
Sanemi’s heart drops to the floor, both of your head darting towards the direction of that painfully familiar voice in an instant.
“What the hell are you doing here?”, he barks at Obanai in distress.
“Everyone was worried about (y/n) so I came to check”, Obanai replies dryly.
“Oh, thank you so much for looking out for me! But don’t worry, I am fine!”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“GET LOST OR I’LL KILL YOU!”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine
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landograndprix · 4 months
Note
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
With lando?
idk why I'm so nervous to post my writing lol but bear with me, it's been years since I've actually, really written something, also, this is me whenever my guy gets a haircut || feel free to request something from this prompt list or something you want to see.♡
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It wasn't a secret that the mop of curls on top of the Brit's head were one of your favorite things, lando found out the hard way when you claimed him to be a ‘different man’ and a ‘stranger’ the minute he walked back into the house and how you'd refused to talk to him for two days straight after the barber cut his curls a little too short. 
And so he'd feared for his life and his relationship when he looked into the mirror earlier today– too short again but he thanked the barber nevertheless and with a heavy heart shuffled back to his car, aggressively ruffling his hair with both hands as he'd tried to fix his hair in the small rear view mirror. 
Debating if he should send you a text to warn you in advance and risk coming home to every door being locked and with no way to enter his own house or not send a text at all and let you live through another ‘traumatic event’ as you had dramatically claimed it to be the first time.
you didn't say a word when he'd met you in the kitchen, not a comment made but the quick glance at the top of his head before going back to stirring the pasta sauce in the pot behind you was enough for lando to know you weren't pleased. 
“I’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still.”
There it is.
Lando had felt your eyes burn into the side of his head all night– you finally cracked.
“It's too short.” the words fall from his lips in a whisper and from the corner of his eyes he can see the growing pout on your lips as every attempt at fixing his hair fails. 
“Lando, you're basically bald.” you whine in defeat, making one last attempt to fix his curls. 
“muppet, you're being a bit dramatic–” Lando chuckles but his sentence gets cut short by your scoff.
“No I'm not!” You cry out “I don't know who you are anymore!” 
“Babe–”  
“I might as well cut it myself!” 
“Okay, let's not do that.” Lando snorts and reaches for your hands in his hair. You're getting too aggressive with sorting his hair out “I will actually end up bald.” 
“yeah well, i'm not a barber, that's my excuse. What's his excuse? They should revoke his license.”
“I'll let him know it was too short next time.” Lando reassures and tries to calm you down by pressing a soft kiss on your temple but the huff that comes from deep within you tells him you're not done with this yet. 
“No, I'll let him know because I'm coming with you next time and if he cuts it too short, I'll cut his balls off.” 
901 notes · View notes
Text
“flu season” - hotch stops by to check on you while you’re home sick (hotch x bau!gn!reader), 1.7k words
cw; mentions of canonical violence, icky sickies, and yearning teehee
———————
You have the flu. 
You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus. 
You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus, and you hate feeling helpless, but you can’t even walk to the bathroom and back without feeling dizzy. 
There’s a waste basket by the bed, lined with a plastic grocery bag. There are four glasses of water, varying in stages of fullness, littered on the nightstand. Your blinds are open because yesterday you wanted to see the sun, but you were too exhausted later in the day to close them. 
Your phone is ringing. You’re groggy, the whole world feeling hazy and heavy, as you lift it from the space in bed beside you and see a call from your boss. When you called Hotch two days ago and told him you were ill, he was incredibly patient with you. Don’t worry about work. Get some rest, he said. Check in so we know you’re okay. Let us know if you need anything. 
You answer the phone on the last ring, and a hoarse, weak voice that is not yours exits your throat. “Hello?” 
“Y/N,” Hotch sounds relieved. Did he think you were dead or something? It’s only the stomach flu. He also never calls you by your first name, which only makes you concerned that something else is gruesomely wrong. “Did you see my calls?” 
You put him on speaker and check your call history. Aaron Hotchner has called you four times in the past six hours. You missed every single one, having drifted in and out of consciousness all day long. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t. Is everything okay?” You ask, thinking something must have happened to him or to one of your teammates. Why else would he be desperate to reach you when you’re home sick? 
“Well, you tell me,” Hotch exhales, an incredulous chuckle lining his voice. The phone muffles the sound, but you know that if you heard it in person, it would sound symphonic. “I was just checking on you, Y/N. I know you’re new to the city.” You sit up a little in bed, as if he were in front of you. “How are you feeling?” 
You run a clammy hand over your sweaty forehead. “Hot,” you blurt out. 
“Excuse me?” Hotch laughs. 
“Hot, like… like a fever. Like I’m running a…” you shake your head at yourself, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. “Sick. I feel sick, very sick.” 
“What kind of sick?”
What kind of sick? Why would he ask you that? You lean back against the headboard and wonder if he’s trying to determine if you’re faking to get out of work, or if he’s genuinely concerned. You’ve only been with the BAU for a few months, but you feel like you’ve gotten to know everyone fairly well so far. You decide Hotch must just be genuinely concerned. You roll through your symptoms, and Hotchner clears his throat when you’re done speaking. 
“Do you feel strong enough to get to your door?” He asks.
“Huh?”
“Because I’m here. Outside your door.” 
“What?” 
Hotch lets out a breathy laugh, one that seems almost in disbelief of his own actions. “If you don’t want company, I’ll leave, but I thought you might need a hand. I’ve been sick and alone before. It’s not fun.” 
You feel your heart swell a little as you recall what Emily has told you about Hotch. You get little snippets about him from Emily, and from what you understand, he and his ex-wife were painfully separated for a while before she was murdered. You wonder if he was ever stuck at home, ill, during that period of time. 
Hotch says your surname. “Are you still there?” 
“What? Yes. Yes! I’m sorry,” you huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The thought of planting your feet on the ground, however, has you already feeling nauseous. “I don’t, uh… I don’t think I can make it to the door, though,” you squeak. “There’s a spare key under the doormat. But I really look gross, Hotch. And I might be contagious. So, enter at your own risk.”
“I don’t mind, L/N. You keep a key under the - oh, yes, there it is,” you hear Hotch fumble to juggle the key and his phone, and after a moment of static - his hand over the microphone - he hangs up, and you hear the front door of your apartment creak open. “Y/N?” He calls out. 
“In here,” you croak, scrambling under the covers and desperately brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
Hotch is standing in the doorway in an instant, still in his suit and tie. You glance at your phone and conclude he must have left work directly to come here. “How do you know where I live?” You mumble as he lifts a full grocery bag. 
“Personnel file,” he shrugs. “How’s your fever?” 
You notice he’s lingering in the doorway. He’s waiting to be invited in. “You don’t have to have a warrant,” you smile weakly and beckon him into your bedroom, a lame attempt at humor. 
He exhales in amusement, and you see the smile on his face - light and mild, and you wonder, if you weren’t sick, would it have been a grin? 
“You didn’t answer my question,” Hotch says as he steps slowly into the room, taking a cold bottle of Gatorade from the grocery bag and setting it on your nightstand. He starts gathering the cups of water into one arm. 
“You don’t have to do that,” you protest, feeling embarrassed of your mess. “Hotch-“
“It’s Aaron, outside of work,” he corrects you, and you see a flash of his teeth. “And you didn’t answer my question. How’s your fever?” 
You swallow. “High? I guess?” You say dumbly. 
A warm hand is pressed against your forehead and you are once again very aware of how clammy it is. “When was the last time you took something?” He asks. 
You check the time again, then do the math in your head. “Five hours ago.” 
“Where’s your medicine?” He asked. You shift in the bed, to stand up, and Hotch - Aaron’s - hand is on your shoulder. “Stay in bed. I’ll get it. Where is it?” 
“Bathroom cabinet,” you point to the bathroom. You want to protest further. You want to apologize for the mess, to ask him why he’s doing this, to ask him if he’d do this for anyone else. But you keep your mouth shut, instead rubbing the space between your brows as the inevitable headache kicks in. 
Aaron’s quickly out of your bedroom. You hear him walk into the kitchen, a few cabinets open and shut, and then he’s in your bathroom, same thing, opening and closing a cabinet. He comes back to you with a few crackers on a plate, a fresh glass of water, and your flu medicine. 
“So, let’s talk about why you think it’s a good idea to keep a spare key under the mat,” Aaron proposes as you take the medicine. You nearly choke on the water in your mouth, but manage to down it. His face gives him away - he’s not mad, not even disappointed, just smirky. Teasing and playful were not words you would use to describe Aaron Hotchner. 
Until right now. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Aaron cuts you off. “You spend your whole week working gory murders, kidnappings, terrorist threats. You know that the key under the mat is the oldest trick in the book. Why do you do it?” He asks, leaning against the wall beside your bed. 
“You can sit, if you want?” You offer, pointing to the desk chair in the corner. “Your legs must be tired from hanging out up there on that high horse.” 
Hotch just lets a low chuckle escape him as he rolls the desk chair over. He keeps a respectful distance from your bed, but still crosses his ankles and leans back, like he’s sat there a thousand times. Like he’s somehow comfortable. He looks at you expectantly, as if to say don’t make me ask again. 
“Well,” you feel a bit sheepish, because he is right. Keeping a key under your doormat is pretty dumb. “I guess I figure, most people are smart enough to not do it, so the kidnappers and rapists would assume I would be smart enough, too, so they wouldn’t even look under the mat.” 
Aaron’s expression is priceless, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “I’ll just give a spare to someone I trust, how about that?” You suggest, knowing intuitively that the lecture was only going to continue. 
Aaron gives you a nod of approval, and you lean back against the headboard again, stifling a yawn. “I can go, if you want to rest some more?” he proffers, rising from his seat. 
“You don’t have to,” you say quickly, uncontrollably. The words were locked and loaded in your throat before you could think twice. “I mean, I’m probably going to fall asleep soon, but I wouldn’t mind the company. For a little while.” 
You wonder how visibly red your face is.
“I just wanted to make sure you were alive,” Aaron chuckles, his polite, subtle way of declining your invitation, of making sure boundaries are still intact. You know Hotchner is a rule-follower. You admire that about him. “I’ll let you get some rest,” his hand extends, as if to reach out to you. You wonder if he’s going to touch you. His hand retracts after a moment that seems to last for an eternity. 
As Aaron walks towards the bedroom door, he turns around and smiles at you. It’s a real smile. It’s soft. You want to press it like a flower petal, between two book pages, and keep it in a jar on your shelf. 
“I brought you some soup for when you feel up to eating. It’s in your refrigerator,” he says. He taps his hands against the door frame. “Feel better, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.” 
Aaron Hotchner leaves your apartment a minute later, and you fall asleep shortly after that. Your head is still pounding, and your stomach is twisted in knots, but it’s not from the nausea. 
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pretzel-box · 23 days
Note
woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)
but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"
p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it
Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity
now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡
anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave
next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors
that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk
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Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.
Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.
Words: 2,7k
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The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.
"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.
"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"
You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.
"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”
After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.
It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.
His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.
Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.
His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.
If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.
By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"
Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.
But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.
"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.
“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.
“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.
"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.
Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.
“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”
Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.
The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.
“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”
The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.
“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”
Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.
A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?
As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.
The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.
With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.
“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.
“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”
The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.
Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.
With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.
The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.
“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.
Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.
The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.
And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.
“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”
Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.
But there was no help. There was no mercy.
The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.
He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.
Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.
“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”
He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.
“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”
Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.
“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”
He could still hear P.AI.nter.
“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”
For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.
“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”
A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.
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skelliko · 6 months
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Hi Skelle! ☆ How r you? I hope you have a nice day/night! 🫶🏼 I want to request something.. my request is can you make like a full (not a mandatory) headcanons of how the guys will act if they have a crush on someone? Like how they behaviour will change, how they first meet the reader immediately think “yep, she’s the one”, where, and overall how sappy they can get when they have a crush 🥹 i would like them with baji, kazutora, chifuyu and haitani brothers.
Feel free to ignore this if you feel this is too much cause I don’t wanna stress your cute 🧠💐🎀🩷 brain 🧠💐🎀🩷
Lmao
a/n: hope this is okay, sorry for the wait. i didn't intend to make these all be in a school setting, I had tried to do some in a workplace but It's all I could think off without making it basic 😕
★-Tokyo revengers
๑-context: first interaction + how they act/feel with a crush
๑-featuring: Baji, kazutora, chifuyu, ran, rindou
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°- kazutora hanemiya
-- kazutora was forced to stay behind the classroom to finish his work that he hasn't done, the teacher was sat in front of her desk doing whatever a teacher does there while everyone else but him exit out the room. however when you were on your way out you slickly slid a small, folded up piece of paper on the side of kazutora's desk which certainly didn't go unnoticed by him.
-- his eyes went right at you and watched as you walked away almost expecting you to look back at him but you didn't. to then occasionally glance at the teacher to make sure that she doesn't look up as his hand slides towards the note to carefully and quietly open it up. anything could have been written on the note but since he was so focused to not get caught his mind was blank and didn't assume anything right away.
-- the piece of paper held all the answers to the worksheet that he was supposed to complete. to avoid any suspicions from the teacher he immediately placed it flat on the desk underneath his palm to collect himself and not get too ahead of himself, I mean what if the answers are incorrect and your setting him up for longer detention? eventually he risked it and wrote down all the answers that you had given him and handed in his work. and sure enough you become a life saver there, he was able to get out of there quicker than he first anticipated.
-- eventually he came up to you "hey, thanks for the... you know. but why'd you give me 3 incorrect answers? thought you were supposed to be smart" he said it in a almost teasing way, not upset at all about the incorrect answers. but you replied with "because no one would believe you to get them all correct without being forced to do them again" and that right there is the moment that he realised what kind of smart and mischievous person you are, enough that you've captivated his thoughts for the rest of the day and onwards.
• normally he'd get pissed off when forced to stay behind in class, but now, his mind is flooded with you that he's getting stayed back more and more just so that your hand can brush over his desk and give a semi warm piece of paper that you've held safely in your palm on the way to his desk to get him out of a situation that he put himself in, it almost feels like holding your hand. are you aware of what he's doing? probably, but that won't stop him. he also keeps all the pieces of paper even tho they serve no purpose, but knowing that you were the one that gave it to him changes the perspective of those little scraps.
• he has a major urge to be around you, he's craving your presence and voice and he always feels some sort of ache is in body from just thinking about seeing you once the weekend has passed. also the same thing goes for craving your physical touch such as a tight hug or maybe even a scalp massage but he knows that won't happen any time soon but the crave is still there, it's like a maladaptive daydream.
• he also looks at you different compared to others, with you it seems like kazu is looking at an angle with gorgeous white wings and a stunning outfit, whereas with others it seems like their just ants. big difference there.
-- sure you've been in his class for a while but that was the first time you've actually interacted with each other, other than a quick eye contact from looking around the room. there's always that one classmate that you haven't talked to but once you do it changes so much more than you first intended.
• he feels his emotions to a certain extreme level and cause of this he tries to hide it as much as he can otherwise he grows too expressive without realising it. and that can easily make his feelings seem obvious if not tamed correctly. he tries to act casual despite his stomach is turned into a butterfly sanctuary, his palms are grown sweaty, and his breath is held in to get rid of the feeling of jumping about and smiling like a complete idiot. mentally hes turned into a little kid with red cheeks just because his crush smiled at him, someone give the kid an ice pop otherwise he'll overheat. no seriously he's burning up like a fever just being near you.
°- Keisuke baji
-- Baji was getting into some sort of escalating argument after school had ended, him and two guys were getting a little rowdy but because of Baji being in his nerdy disguise at the time he couldn't risk in making a scene
-- but then that's when you butt in and stand by Baji's side. it was certainly a shock to suddenly see you appear beside him and hear you verbalise your opinion and defend him like that against these two delinquents even though he could have easily defended himself despite the circumstances, he could have walked away and led them somewhere else but no, you brought yourself into the bickering before he could act on it
-- Baji was gonna speak up to cut you off and try and get you away from the slight hazardous situation but you certainly had a lot to say and that just caused him to keep quiet. were you not scared? if you weren't for yourself then he was surely scared for you. he wasn't mad at you for getting involved, instead he somewhat gained respect for you and he had to hold back in smiling.
-- though he obviously couldn't let the situation keep going so he had to quickly drop the whole argument by speaking over you and basically drag you away by your sleeve gently. his feelings didn't grow immediately right there and then but they did develop quickly over a short period of time.
• thinking of you? his cheeks are sore and he brings a hand up to his mouth to suppress it and as if to hide it even though there's no one around to hide his smile from. he doesn't know why he does that but he just does.
• if someone were to be told that baji giggles when you message him they wouldn't believe it, that whole image for them is nonexistent when it comes to Baji, wouldn't even consider it. but this man really does, he tries to stifle them and keep a calm exposure however when he's laying down on his bed he has a wide smile plastered stupidly on his face and when he feels an excited, giddy feeling he can't help but feel a small laugh escape. when he tries to hold them back it almost feels like his chest is being tightened. your suffocation him without even being there, imagine a potential news title 'baji Keisuke suffocated due to feeling giddy about a crush'
• not much of an artist, can only actually draw simple outlines of certain objects such as pain flowers or stick men, but that doesn't stop him from picking up a pen or pencil and start to doodle, nor does it stop him to have your features flash in his mind and him draw you as a stick figure or even a wobbly blob. he sometimes zones out in class when doodling and when he catches himself in drawing you he quickly scribbles it out before anyone or you sees.
°- chifuyu matsuno
-- its raining outside on a school day and you don't have an umbrella nor a hood to cover yourself so due to that you chose to stay behind in your empty classroom to wait out the rain just so you don't get soaked. you chose to stay behind and do something captivating that it even caused you to lose track of time, luckily Chifuyu walked past your classroom and saw you there, it's at least a few hours past school hours (don't ask what he's still doing here)
-- he curiously came up to you and mentioned it however even after those few hours the rain hadn't left and it was still pouring the same weight as it had at the start, and due to the sudden passed time you had no choice to head home even if it means getting drenched. but upon chifuyu hearing your reasoning, there was no way he was gonna leave you walking out in the cold rain while he had a perfectly good umbrella, even if he wanted to leave he just couldn't bring himself to.
-- so he did the first thing that came to mind and that was to try and offer his umbrella to you. at first it seemed convenient for you but then the thought of him going out in the rain with nothing bothered you, so obviously you declined. bit of "no it's fine" here and there but after some of those you both came to an agreement to share it.
-- halfway through with you both walking underneath the same umbrella and chatting away to avoid the awkward silence he walked you home without you realising, he had to turn a corner ages ago but willingly chose to stay with you since you both were having an interesting conversation. and sure enough, thump-thump-thump his heart is racing, ever since then you've been on his mind.
• he feels so much about you, butterflies in his stomach and the need to move around because if hes sat still he'd probably snap in half from the excitement that he can't handle when the thought of you appears. he can explode from the overjoy of interacting with you as if it's a rare thing to happen even though it really isn't, you're just that special. he definitely jumps around and about in his room and punches the air silently whilst trying not to cause too much noise. making a whole new cardio work out.
• whenever he's reading his manga and romance comes in he can't help but picture the two characters to be you and chifuyu. he flicks his eyes between the two characters repeatedly even if he's been on the same page for 5mins, he'd still play out the scenario of them being you two. I mean that whole first encounter almost seemed too cliché to not have come straight out of a movie with unrealistic standards. but no, it all really did happened which causes his mind to go in places that you two are almost casted together and made to talk, as if the universe is setting you both up.
• passing your classroom at any chance he gets just to try and get a glimpse at you but while doing so his heart paces like hes just ran a marathon, he hasn't even seen you yet but the anticipation is killing him. and even when it rains on school days again hes not heading straight home but instead he's making his way to your class to see if you're there again waiting for the rain to leave, always hopeful and wishing that you're empty handed without an umbrella or a hood.
°- ran haitani
-- your in an empty room scribbling something in a sketchbook, using both hard and light pencil strokes. doesn't bother ran at all that you're here doing your own little thing but what actually does is that you're sat in his usual seat. normally he wouldn't try to intervene, especially if it's something this petty plus he wasn't all that desperate to stay here for long but even then, he still walked up to you.
-- first instinct that you had when hearing his footsteps was to close your sketchbook shut before looking up, clearly you don't want no one seeing your personal work/drawings. this little thing perked ran's interest, he doesn't know much about art in the form of paper and pencil, but he's still intrigued as to why you chose to hide it that it made him forget about his petty emotion of you sitting in his seat.
-- in short term, he ended up seeing a few of your pages and the reason for it is cause you despise your own work, despite continuing drawing in your own time you seem to always criticise yourself and think harshly on them. but in his eyes he can't help but be in awe of them, he cant understand what's so bad about the drawings. next thing you know he's asking for a drawing of himself, you didn't seem too bothered by the idea as you were about your skill wondering if you could even pull it off but ran managed to convince you.
-- sitting in a chair in front of you as a muse, meeting eye contact as you looked at his features repeatedly to get the right shape of his eyes, nose and lips. him purposely moving a little to see if you'd say something about it and trying to peek over your sketchbook book to see your progress only for you to move it away out of embarrassment. it took a short while but finally seeing himself on a page in dark grey lead made him feel something, not necessarily a major attraction but appreciation even tho he's the one that pressed on the idea.
-- and that's when the butterflies hit, it's a major delayed reaction but the giddy feeling hit after being the muse and grasping the fact that you were able to draw him this well from you analysing his features, something about this made him more seen than he already is. maybe a confidence boost? who knows, even he himself can't figure it out exactly other than feeling warm from the inside out about you.
• no matter how hard he tries to relax around you he always feels blood rushing in his body making him become tense whenever you two have an interaction as small as just saying hi to each other, and once you both pass he sighs out air as if you've caught his breath and didn't let go, though he also ends up smiling after that sigh but it's more or less a mix of a nervous and happy smile, one that makes you to be unsure if you're supposed to be excited or scared.
• i reckon hes a yapper once he gets comfortable enough, anything that comes to mind he can talk and talk about it with you like his life depends on it, but once he's finished speaking he only then realises the things he's said and regrets it all even if the topics he's talked about aren't all that bad but he still gets embarrassed of himself for letting himself get carried away like that to the point where afterwards he speaks in a much shallower tone "...I don't know why I said that, ignore that" it's kinda cute tho.
• you got him twisting and turning, losing focus in certain activities and even his sight of where he's going. at some point he was walking but his eye view was so focused on you that he ended up walking into the metal, water foundation and he had to embarrassingly play it off hoping that no one had seen the doofus walk right into it as his head was turned 80° in your direction.
°- rindou haitani
-- you and him happen to share the same taste in music and favour the same band/Artist, he knew this by overhearing a conversation you had with someone and that made him perk up a little but not enough for him to engage in the conversation. he'd silently listen in to hear what your favourite song is and guess if your a hardcore fan or just a regular
-- despite rindou not being the one to come forward about the mutual interest that you both have, it was you that needed up going up to him after hearing his music escape though his earphones from how loud he set the volume to be. sure he was a little embarrassed after you mentioned it but once you both started talking about the band, something had opened him up as you talked about it with enthusiasm while he was agreeing with everything that you were saying and adding his own little comments, you were both constantly on the same page.
-- hes gained a small interest in you but not enough to catch feelings and be attached, there's plenty of people with the same interest as him and even though he can't find many it doesn't mean that you should be on top of the list. yet.
-- those previous, tamed feelings were immediately thrown out the window after hearing you sing his favourite song when you thought you were alone, he didn't mean to intrude but when he quietly walked in a room to get something he ended up hearing your voice singing along to a favoured song, you immediately became his favourite cover. your tune and enthusiasm had him captivated and stuck. he didn't get the item but instead but he stood outside of the door listening until you stopped.
• when you suddenly appear and make yourself known he gets a little spooked and drops whatever he was holding in his hands (mainly depends on what the item is, as in if it's not fragile and just a pen) its the type of scare that makes his mind go 'oh shit they're here, act cool, act cool' you can just walk into the room and when Rindou looks up to see you its like his whole body does a nervous shut down for a split second. he's normally not like that at all so when that became a common occurrence he swore he was starting to become insane.
• only you're allowed to touch his glasses or gloves or in fact anything that belongs to rindou. sure his brother is an exception but that's to be expected. if anyone else tried to touch his stuff he'd more than just swat their hand away like an annoying pest, but with you? he feels warm and giddy about you picking his glasses up and trying them on yourself, heat rushes up to his face but he always tries to act cool and casual. he just can't shake the thought that you've worn his glasses that he's wearing right now, it almost feels like getting a high five from your favourite celebrity.
• anyone would probably assume Rindou to be a little heartless from him occasionally being nonchalant around others and sure that's true enough but with you? he's flustered, cannot specify enough of it, poor man can't even go a day without his lungs constantly shifting in volume from the way you get him so nervous. he's even grown to stutter a little, not a whole lot but enough for it to be noticed once in a while and each time he looks back on the sentences he's said he always cringes at himself.
 ♡----
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wosoamazing · 3 months
Text
New Normal 1.0
Alessia x Child!R - Part 2 of the Diabetes & Love Series Warnings: Hospitals, Diabetes, Cannulas
Taking requests for any blurbs/one-shots based on the series and happy to answer any questions
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“How was it?” Lia asked as your Mum and Lotte returned from their class.
“Good, overwhelming but good,” your Mum replied as she slipped in behind you, you were sitting in the middle of your bed intently watching a show playing on your iPad, “I see Leah has found the flyers,”
“Huh, what,” Leah spoke up after hearing her name.
“The flyers,” your Mum said gesturing to them, “I’m thinking of going with the Omnipod for the insulin as it has no tubes and so would work well, less risk of her pulling it out, I was worried about the weight though but everyone says its not actually that bad and little kids don’t even notice it, and the NHS does do the FreeStyle Libre but I’m thinking of actually going with the Dexcom, it’s more common in other places around the world and so many people complain about the Libre falling off, even with the patches to help it stay on, which would just be annoying.” Your Mum told the room.
“That sounds like a good plan Less, sounds like you’ve done your research,” Leah replied.
“She barely slept last night, I swear she was on her computer the whole night,”
-
“Also is it alright if Leah comes with me instead of Lotte? Just-” Your Mum asked your doctor just as she was leaving the room.
“Absolutely Alessia, no problem at all, it is excellent to see how much of a community you have, we’ll see you in 5 minutes,” your Mum nodded
“Less. Katie and Caitlin want to know if they can come visit Peanut, and so do Kyra and Steph,” Lotte told your Mum.
“Um,” Your Mum said, stumped eyes clearly welling up, and a tear rolled down her cheek, which she wiped away before sniffing.
“Let’s just wait hey, maybe tell them you’ll get back to them, and thank you for their concern, it's a lot at the moment, they will understand that,” Leah stepped in, hoping to reassure your Mum, she earned a small nod from your Mum before you interrupted.
“Mummy,” you said softly as you turned yourself in your Mum’s lap not having been listening to the adults conversation, having been too absorbed in your show, only to notice she seemed sad, so you carefully stood up before leaning your weight into her and giving her a hug, “no sad, happy,” your words caused your Mum to chuckle.
“Thank you pea,” she said as she rubbed your back holding you tight, “I love you so much, you know that right?” you nodded your head against her neck, “Mummy just has to go have a meeting with the doctors, and Leah is going to come with me, but you’ll be okay with Lotte and Lia for a little bit?” You nodded before giving her a sloppy kiss.
_______
“Bubba, Mummy needs to explain something to you, do you think you could sit and listen for a bit?” she said as she entered the room, you nodded before looking at her intently, she picked you up and placed you on her lap so you were facing her.
“So, the doctors have found out you have something called diabetes, this means your body is missing little messengers called insulin, the little messengers you’re missing normally tell your body to turn the food you eat, more specifically the sugar in your food into energy, so you can do all the things you like. But because of this it means the sugar in your blood gets too high and you start to feel yucky, so we have to give your body insulin now, but sometimes if we give too much insulin your sugar will get too low and you will also feel yucky. So we have to make sure we watch the sugar in your body and keep it in line, by giving it insulin. Does that make sense?” you nodded at her, before asking her “forever?”
“Yes, forever, but there are these cool little machines that we stick to your body and they help us in making sure the sugar behaves, Mummy has chosen two that might work for us, but if you don’t like them we can always try others. Would you like to see them?” you nodded and Leah handed Alessia the examples.
“So this one, is called an omnipod, and it will help us give your body insulin,” she handed it to you so you could inspect it, “and this one is a Dexcom, it keeps an eye on your sugar for us,” you reached up for that one too and she gave it to you.
-
“We’re going to go now Less, if you need anything at all just message us,” Lia told her as they got ready to leave, you were still inspecting the devices.
“Thank you so much, Mum and Dad will be here in a few minutes so I think Lotte is going to go and get a break quickly too.” They nodded before leaving.
“Nonna? Pa?” you chimed in.
“Yeah, Nonna and Pa are coming to visit us soon Peanut, you can show them your new helpers if you want when they come,” which caused you to smile brightly and nod.
“I’ll be back okay? Don’t worry, I’ll pack bags for us like we discussed, if you need me to come back earlier for any reason at all message me and I’ll jump back into the car.” Lotte told your Mum as she stood up.
“Thank you so much Lotte, it means so much to me, I’m so sorry for changing your plans and interrupting our like second final week off.” “Less, don’t apologise, it’s okay, and honestly I haven’t thought about football once since we got here, which is incredibly unusual, so if anything it's more of a break,” she said before hugging your Mum and leaving.
-
“We heard our grandbaby was here somewhere,” you heard two very familiar voices say, causing you to look up.
“Nonna and Pa,” you exclaimed as you saw them, “look, my helpers, mini ma-ma, Mummy help,” “Her mini machines as we are now referring to them apparently, they’re just models, they’ll bring the real ones in and get them set up and on her soon. The chunkier white one is the insulin pod and the smaller one is the Continuous Glucose Monitor, they aren/t under the NHS but health insurance covers them mainly and they were the best options for us so I decided to go with them,” your Mum informed your grandparents, and the similarity between you and them inspecting them made Alessia smile.
“How are you? We walked past some of the girls on our way in.” Your Nonna said to her daughter.
“Good, it’s a lot to take in but it helps that she is just interested in everything going on and not scared. Yeah Leah and Lia came to visit and Lotte is staying with us, she has just gone home to get us some things we need,”
-
The doctor came in shortly after Nonna and Pa had arrived and you all through the setting up process, you didn’t even flinch when either of the cannulas were inserted much to everyone's delight. You then go to spend some time with your Nonna and Pa, whilst your Mum had a much needed nap on the pull out bed. When your Nonna and Pa left your Mum was still sleeping but they decided to leave her like that, with the reassurance that the nurses would keep an eye on you.
“Shhhh, Mummy sleeping,” you whispered as Lotte returned, “need to be quiet,”
“Okay,” Lotte whispered back to you slightly amused. 
-
“Oh Lotte, when did you get here,” your Mum asked groggily as she rubbed her eyes.
“Just over an hour ago, don’t worry we had everything under control, you needed a sleep,” Lotte said, causing your Mum to humm in response.
“Mummy look, drawing, for you,” you said proudly as you held up a drawing you drew for her.
“Oh thank you, it is amazing, I love it,” she told you as she picked you up before sitting in your bed and placing you in her lap, “why don’t you tell Lotte what happened once she left,”
“Nonna and Pa came, and then the doctor came and she put my mini helpers on me, and while she was teaching Mum, and Nonna and Pa how to work them she let me help her push the needle so that the stuff went into the pod and then she stuck them on me, and I didn’t even flinch when the cannulas were inserted so I got a sticker, and then we did some playing and Mum fell asleep and now you’re here,” you recounted the events of the afternoon to Lotte at lightning speed.
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