#and by a well equipped personnel

[badly-drawn-pigeon]

Mewtwo is like Socrates, but whenever someone can't answer questions like "who am I really" and "what should be one's goal in life", rather than reaching a confused, perplexed state, he just explodes the whole place

[amirasainz]

Helllooo,

Would it be alright if I request a platonic grid x reader, where the reader is also a driver and gets into a crash, and all the drivers get protective over the reader and are very dotting towards her

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Broken arm

The atmosphere at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya was electric as the F1 cars roared to life for the final laps of the race. The sun shone brightly over the crowd, casting a warm glow on the track, but for Yn, the youngest driver on the grid and the pride of Red Bull Racing, this race was becoming increasingly tense. She was battling hard, fighting for her first podium, when disaster struck.

Coming out of Turn 3, Yn miscalculated her entry, her rear tires sliding dangerously. She tried to correct, but it was too late. The car spun violently, hitting the barriers with a sickening crunch that echoed through the stands. The red flags waved immediately, signaling the end of the race. Panic washed over the paddock as other drivers slowed down and began making their way back to the garages.

Inside the Red Bull garage, the mood shifted from excitement to dread. “Did you see that? She was flying!” Daniel exclaimed, his eyes wide with concern. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Keep calm, Dan. They’ll get her out,” Max replied, trying to mask his worry, but his voice was tight with tension.

As the teams packed up their equipment, everyone’s focus remained on the screens showing the crash. The cameras zoomed in on Yn’s car, which was now stationary, surrounded by marshals and medical personnel. The sight of her crumpled car sent a chill through the drivers’ hearts.

“I can’t watch this,” Lando said, pacing back and forth in the McLaren garage. “Someone needs to go check on her.”

“I’ll go,” Carlos volunteered, but he was stopped by Lewis. “Wait, we need to see if she’s out of the car first.”

Finally, the moment everyone had been dreading came. The cameras caught Yn slowly emerging from the wreckage, with help from the medical team. She was cradling her left arm against her chest, her face pale but her eyes still fierce. The sight of her injuries sent a wave of anxiety through the drivers watching from their respective garages.

“She’s out!” Pierre shouted, relief flooding through him, but the worry remained etched on every driver’s face.

The teams moved in silence, their minds racing. “We should go to the hospital after the race,” Charles suggested. “She’ll need us there.”

“Absolutely,” George agreed, glancing at his teammates. “She’s one of us, and she’s going to need all the support she can get.”

The race had concluded, but the drivers' minds were not on their standings. They jumped into their cars and made their way to the hospital. The atmosphere was tense, each driver lost in their thoughts, reflecting on the fragile nature of their sport.

In the hospital waiting room, the mood was somber. They had gathered a few massive bouquets of flowers, bright colors spilling from the paper, trying to lift Yn’s spirits. “I hope she’s not too badly hurt,” Daniel said, biting his lip nervously.

“She’s tough. She’ll bounce back,” Max reassured, though his own anxiety lingered. “I mean, she’s always giving us a run for our money out there.”

Finally, the nurse appeared, a kind smile breaking through the tension. “You can see her now. She’s awake, but she’ll need some time to rest.”

The drivers filed in one by one, entering Yn’s hospital room. The sight of her lying in the bed with a cast on her arm tugged at their hearts. “Hey, superstar,” Daniel said softly, his smile brightening the dim room. “You scared us half to death out there.”

Yn looked up, her expression a mix of pain and amusement. “Well, at least I made it exciting,” she joked, though her voice was strained. “I think I broke the car more than my arm, though.”

“Stop joking around. We were all freaking out,” Lando said, shaking his head. “You should have seen us in the garages. I thought we’d lose it!”

“I was more worried about you than my race,” Charles added, leaning closer. “Just seeing you get out of that car…” He trailed off, remembering how terrified he felt.

“Yeah, you’ve got to stop trying to drive like us old guys,” Lewis teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re still young; it’s okay to take it slow once in a while.”

“Yeah, Yn,” George piped up, crossing his arms. “You’re supposed to make us look good, not give us heart attacks.”

As they all settled into the room, Carlos placed the massive bouquets of flowers on the bedside table. “These are for you. Just a little something to brighten your day.”

“Wow, you guys are so sweet,” Yn replied, her eyes sparkling with gratitude, though the pain in her arm reminded her of her predicament. “I might have to keep you all around to spoil me more often.”

“Only if you promise to get better and come back stronger,” Max said, his tone serious. “We need you out there, pushing us. It’s not the same without you.”

“I promise,” she said, her voice steady despite the pain. “But you all have to promise to drive safely. No more crazy moves, okay?”

“Deal,” they all chimed in unison.

As the hours passed, the drivers took turns keeping Yn company, sharing stories and laughter, and even some embarrassing moments from their racing careers. They joked about their first crashes, and as the sun began to set outside the hospital window, a sense of warmth enveloped the room.

“Next time, I’ll win a race just for you,” Yn declared, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Make it happen,” Lando replied, bumping her foot playfully. “But for now, let’s focus on healing that arm. We can’t have you holding us back when we race again.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me,” she laughed softly, her heart swelling with affection for her fellow drivers. “Thanks for being here. You guys really are the best.”

As they prepared to leave, each driver gave her a reassuring hug, careful not to bump her injured arm. “We’ll check on you tomorrow,” Lewis said, a protective gleam in his eyes. “Rest up.”

The group exited the room, the weight of their worries lightened slightly by their shared moments with Yn. They knew she would be back, stronger than ever, and they would be right there, cheering her on. Racing was a dangerous sport, but in that hospital room, they found comfort in each other and the bond that made them not just competitors but a family.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)

Comfy ergonomic chairs

Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)

Massages on the regular

Aides (rich people call them servants)

Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)

Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)

Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)

Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised

Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.

There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.

Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)

Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.

Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work

Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.

Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)

Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.

[pucksandpower]

April Fools?

Lando Norris x Hamilton!Reader

Summary: maybe telling your father the big news on April Fools’ Day was not the best idea

Lewis is lounging in his driver’s room, reviewing data from the last practice session, when there’s a tentative knock at the door.

“Come in,” he calls out, not looking up from his computer screen.

The door creaks open slowly and Lewis glances over to see you and your boyfriend shuffling awkwardly into the room, neither of you making eye contact with him.

“What’s this then?” Lewis says with an amused chuckle at your strange behavior. “You two look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”

You and Lando exchange a nervous glance but remain silent, shifting your weight uneasily.

Lewis sets down his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Well, out with it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

You open your mouth but no words come out. You look pleadingly at Lando who seems equally incapable of speech, his lips moving soundlessly.

“I haven’t got all day here,” Lewis raises an eyebrow. “One of you needs to start talking.”

You take a steadying breath and then the words come tumbling out in a rush.

“I’m pregnant!”

There’s a beat of silence as Lewis processes what you’ve said. Then he lets out a loud laugh, slapping his knee in amusement.

“Nice one! You two really had me going for a minute there. Very funny prank!”

Lando finally finds his voice, though it comes out as more of a terrified squeak. “She’s … she’s not joking. Y/N is pregnant. With my … with my baby.”

Lewis just keeps laughing so hard that tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. “Oh come off it, you can drop the act now. I’m not falling for silly April Fools’ pranks!”

“Is … is it April Fools’ Day?” You ask hesitantly, a crease forming between your brows. “I didn’t even realize what day it was ...”

Lewis’ laughter slowly trails off as the serious expressions on your and Lando’s faces register. His eyes narrow as he looks between the two of you.

“You’re … you’re actually pregnant?” He asks slowly, needing confirmation one last time. “With Lando’s …”

Lando gulps audibly and gives the smallest of nods. “Y-yes sir.”

A rushing sound fills Lewis’ ears as the reality slams into him. His little girl, his baby, is having a baby of her own. With a driver no less — one of his competitors!

The room starts spinning dangerously.

“You …” Lewis growls, rounding on Lando with a look that could incinerate him on the spot. “You got my daughter pregnant?”

“I … I …” Lando squeaks, taking an unconscious step back.

“Start running,” Lewis rumbles in a tone of deadly calm. “You’ve got three seconds.”

Lando’s eyes widen in terror and he immediately turns to bolt out the door.

“One …” Lewis counts, rising to his feet with jerky movements.

“I’m too young to die!” Lando wails, throwing the door open and fleeing at a sprint down the hallway.

“Two …” Lewis continues menacingly, stalking after him with murder in his eyes.

“Dad, wait!” You cry out in a panic, but it’s too late.

“Three!” Lewis roars, now fully giving chase after a petrified Lando.

He tears down the corridor and out into the paddock area, drawing confused stares from crew members and team personnel.

“I’m too young to be a grandpa!” Lewis bellows at the top of his lungs, rapidly closing the gap on the fleeing Lando.

You hurry after them, catching up just as Lando races past a very confused group of mechanics, Lewis in hot pursuit.

“Don’t let him hurt me!” Lando screams as he dodges around equipment boxes.

The commotion has drawn the attention of the entire paddock by now. Cameras are out and clicking furiously as the most famous driver on the grid chases his terrified competitor in circles.

Finally, Lando trips over a stray tire and goes sprawling to the ground. Lewis is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt front and hauling him up until they are nose to nose.

“Please … please don’t kill me,” Lando whimpers pathetically.

Lewis glares at the younger man for a long moment before his expression softens just a fraction. “I’ll let you live. On one condition.”

Lando nods frantically in agreement before Lewis has even named the condition.

“The baby gets my name. You two are naming it after me. No arguments.”

For a brief second, relief flashes across Lando’s face. Then his eyes go wide again in fear. “Ah well … you see … the thing is ...”

“Spit it out!” Lewis growls.

“Y/N … she wants to name the baby Nico. After Nico Rosberg.”

A muscle twitches dangerously in Lewis’ jaw and he drops Lando back to the ground in a heap.

“Oh, for fu-”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Lando’s desperate shrieks once again fill the air, echoing across the paddock. “Lewis, please, have mercy!”

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader]

Note: I have no idea what to call this AU, but I don't think a lot of people will read this so... Haha~ Mental AU? Chaos AU?

Update! This AU is called Mana Chaos AU! Plus there's Part 2 up!!

Part 1 (here) 一 Part 2

Once, the world’s strongest Hunters were revered as humanity’s saviours and heroes for the weak and ordinary. They were once treated like celebrities and hold the highest power and authority. They were respected, praised, and idolized. They still were, now, with a hint of fear.

It all happened due to the infamous incident now dubbed as <The Outrage Incident>. It happened like any other day, in any other country, in any other city. But to only that one strong Hunter. He was an S-Rank Mage, a successful and loved one at that. The story goes like this. 

One day, this powerful Hunter was out on the street enjoying a day off, but something set him off and he used his powerful ability to set things right. It would have been the end of it since an S-Rank’s threat was enough to make the majority crumble. However, his power got out of control and caused an outrage to his being. He was using his powers in public and there was no dungeon outbreak or monsters nearby for him. No amount of justification could calm the public.

After that one incident, other countries’ S-Rank or higher started to experience a similar issue. The worst case was that even Healers of their level didn’t escape such a phenomenon. Soon, the public feared the strong protectors they once saw as shields and swords against the gates. 

Researchers and scientists were put to work quickly to investigate why and how this issue was happening now. The answer was in the overflowing mana levels within their bodies that couldn’t be contained since the human body was weak and frail for such a change. Addition to that, it correlated to the Hunter’s emotional level and their control. Institutions were built to imprison house the S-Ranks while monitoring their situation. 

Whenever an S-Rank’s mana levels and emotions show signs of <Outrage>, a term they now use to describe the Hunter going haywire with their powers on everything and anything around them, they will be sent to a dungeon alone. In the people’s eyes, it was better for that one Hunter to die in battle than kill innocents. Because at first, it was only the S-Ranks, but then some A-Ranks would fall victim to <Outrage> as well. 

The professionals have named the correlation as Emotional Mana, EM for short, which made way for the Emotional Mana Institution, EMI for strong Hunters. The Hunters were treated like mental patients or worse, forced into a straitjacket and some had a muzzle for certain Hunters. These were specially designed and created items that limit and restricts a Hunter’s use of their powers and abilities. 

It was a miracle that someone managed to create such equipment. That someone was also targetted by the S-Ranks after being announced and killed for such a disrespectful act, still the blueprints and prototypes were created and other talents that took over were able to finalize the perfect form.

“Personnel 002, you were specifically requested by SM-10.” 

You looked up from your laptop and paused in your rapid typing for just a few second before you looked back to your screen and continued typing. That code name was to protect you and everyone else that worked in EMI or have some form of connection to it, so that no innocent is sacrificed for the greater good. Still, you can’t get used to it nor do you want to. “I’m busy.”

“Please… SM-10 is way too picky with the people that enters his cell.” This person, Supervisor 843, was one of the newest employee to join the crew. Though, unlike the name of the duty, they were people that were disposable hence the frequent newcomers and high number. “Please help me.”

You sighed and glared up at the person who had a mask over their head and a voice changer to mask their identity. Though, with the way they were speaking, you could deduce this person was a ‘she’. You got up and snatched the file extended to you. Just when you thought you could rest and work in peace, trouble comes knocking on your door. “Get me a drink and some refreshment, I want to see it on my desk by the time I’m back.”

“Yes? Yes!” Supervisor 843 bowed and clapped her hands together, “I’ll do so!”

As swiftly and automatically, you made your way through the hallways and doorways, tapping your access card to unlock needed doors and lifts for your travel. On the way, other Supervisors nodded their heads and bowed in your presence when you walked by. Unlike them who wear a uniform, you only have a lab coat over your usual outfits. You don’t even have a mask or voice changer. 

Why?

You stood in front of the door that was labelled in bold ‘SM-10’, meaning the 10th S-Rank in Korea that belonged to the Mage class. The guard dressed in black from head to toe nodded their heads at you before they started unlocking the various security checkpoints and locks for you to enter into a battlefield in its own right.

“Will one hour be enough, Personnel 002?” One of the guards asked.

“Not sure, just be alert in case I need to rush out.” You spoke stoically with indifference.

Step by step, you walked in, announcing loudly of your arrival to the individual inside. The doors closed behind you and locked you inside with what everyone feared. You sighed and put away your glasses since there was no need for it right now. The room was eerily silent and cold, something you were long used to. 

You took a few more steps, walking deeper into the room where it seemed to get darker and darker even though the lights in all housed Hunters would be on 24/7 to monitor their actions and activities within the room. 

Just when your vision failed you to the point where you can’t see what was in front of you, you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms, your entire form effortlessly pulled back till your back was pressed against a firm wall of muscle one would call chest and abs. Hair tickled one side of your cheek and neck, you felt a breath cooed before a deep voice rang in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for my favourite Personnel~”

It wasn’t at all odd that your name was called as well, if it was someone like him, he’d know everything there was to know. In fact, everyone should be worshipping him right now for his controlled and well-mannered behaviour. Especially when he could have destroyed this entire facility and killed everyone in it within seconds if he so wished. 

“Jinwoo. I need to work, don’t bully the newcomers.” You sighed while looking to the side as if making eye contact with him. 

“I like it when you call me by name and not some code, thanks for that.” Jinwoo hummed as he played with your fingers. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s a bit bored here, you understand.”

“You removed your straitjacket again.” You let him fiddle with your fingers as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’ll get caught one of these days and then it’ll be game over.”

“Igris helped me remove it. You know how they are with seeing me constrained and imprisoned here.” He chuckled and leaned back, but it turned out he was just taking a seat, presumably on his bed since you still couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ve made sure no one could see me free and they didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”

Every Hunter that was admitted into the EMI was evaluated and thoroughly investigated to create the perfect profile for reference. All their fighting style, powers and abilities, weapons of choice, gear type, and any other detail was accounted down. It was all for people to be prepared in case one would have an <Outrage> and they were needed to be countered by weaker Hunters. 

For Jinwoo, however, his profile was lacking to put it in the best terms. His mana levels were unmeasureable, yes, so he was placed as an S-Rank. Though, his powers and abilities were unknown. Since he was a Reawakened Hunter, most would assume he was the same class as he was as an E-Rank; a Fighter Class. But he exhibit <Telekinese> and <Shadow Manipulation> so he was placed as into Mage class.

That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. 

You saw through his innocence and lie, uncovering his true powers and abilities. To be honest, even if you told your higher-ups of Jinwoo’s secrets, there was nothing they could do to counter it. Jinwoo was a league of his own and only you knew it. He was no mere S-Rank, he was definitely a National Level Hunter.

Ah, yes. The question as to why you don’t wear a mask or bother having done anything to hide your identity. It was not because you’ve been in one of the people who has been in service of EMI for the longest time or wanted something as shallow as respect from the newcomers or other coworkers. It was completely because you knew it was useless to hide when someone like Sung Jinwoo had his eyes on you.

“I’ll try and arrange a dungeon for you to raid.” You marked down on your phone while Jinwoo continued to treat you like a teddy bear.

“You have to join though. If you don’t…” Jinwoo’s voice went deeper as glowing eyes stared at you from the shadows, “I don’t know what I’ll do to get your attention…”

You nodded, pushing down the urge to flinch or jerk away from him. It was normal, something you expected but still unnerving to hear with your own ear from his lips. You swear this place made the Hunters mad in the head, it was a place that made them sick and mentally ill, it wasn’t actually helping them at all. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear it.”

Jinwoo smirked as his arms tightened around you, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. “You’re the only reason I stay here. Remember that. If you leave here… Leave me… I’ll do what Thomas Andre did to America.”

Note: I can't help it, it was supposed to upload the requested ones first, but then this idea hit me like a truck (without the isekai part), so now here it is. There are like 2 requested stories written and ready to be posted, but I'm double checking and stuff. Hope you like this AU/idea.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none at the moment)

[nopanamaman]

How do mutants in the Facility live?

Patreon Loredump. August 2023

One of the most frequent types of questions I get are about life in the Facility. So it seems like a good topic to start my loredumping series with! 

Apologies in advance for all the photo examples, I hope they work fine for getting the vibes across.

Overview

The facility dome is visible in the distance.

The facility in general – or, as it’s officially known, the Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research – is a large structure located on the border of the Zone. Its most notable feature is the massive dome surrounded by an outside wall.

The wall. In real life, the famous building of НИЦЭВТ.

The latter is a building in itself, containing offices, lecture halls, resting and dining quarters for researchers, as well as minor labs. All entrances are supervised, though not totally closed off to the public. Excursions, official meetings, TV reports – all of those happen within the wall.

But you will not find any mutants here. As you may have already guessed, all the major laboratories, anomalous artefacts, and, of course, mutants are housed in the dome. The entrances to the dome are monitored and equipped with anomaly scanners, allowing only authorised personnel and mutants to travel between its sectors.

Mutants cannot traverse the facility unsupervised.

What is the mutant classification system?

Depending on their anomalous characteristics, cooperability and method of containment, mutants are sorted into types and numbered groups. Individual mutant numbers usually look like XT000-000.

Let’s use Dmitry as an example.

Dima’s serial number is DT001-319.

The type constitutes the first part of the mutant’s number. Dima’s mutation is Directional Type, hence the letters DT at the start (for the record, KT stands for Kernel Type).

Next we have the 00X number. Mutants are assigned a 001, 002, 003 or 004 class depending on the potency and containability of their mutation – kinda like SCPs, yeah. Dima has a very powerful mutation he has good control over, plus he is sound of mind, making him suitable for 001 containment.

The last three digits are the overall number of the mutant within their type. So if Dima’s are 319, the facility has had 318 directional-type mutants on record prior to his arrival. This does not mean they were as powerful or had the same level of control over their telekinesis, just that they possessed a similar mutation to some extent.

How do different mutant classes live?

001

001 quarters example. Not too different from a hospital or sanatorium

Subjects ranked as 001 are extremely powerful, have good control over their powers and are, most importantly, docile. Since their mutations are very potent and difficult to forcefully contain, the go-to approach is making them not want to leave.

001s spend most (if not all) of their conscious lives surrounded by doctors. The latter foster a particular mindset in their subjects, where the world outside is presented as a place that is unanimously hostile to mutants. This is done by means of propaganda, reminders about their family’s supposed mistreatment and, in case a mutant has some favourable recollections of their childhood, gaslighting. Additionally, subjects are never left alone with each other.

001s get very luxurious treatment by facility's standards, with much bigger, more comfortable rooms than other mutant types. They're even allowed to have gaming consoles, TVs with VHS and video players, and their own bookshelves. Each mutant has their own separate room, which is kept under constant camera surveillance with the toilet being the only blind spot.

Special folders are issued to 001s before experiments with lower-ranked mutants.

Experiments held on 001s are relatively humane so as not to discourage them from staying at the facility. They do undergo daily checkups mostly designed to monitor their mental state. 001s are also active participants in experimentation on lower-ranked mutants, who they are taught and encouraged to treat as lesser beings.

001s are a high-risk investment, so their numbers are far smaller than those of 002 and 003-class mutants. Additionally, because of the potential danger they present, the institute is quick to dispose of 001 subjects by either termination or reclassification to 004. Though, if a 001 manages to stay cooperative long-term, they can become a very valuable asset for the facility.

002 and 003

002 and 003 quarters example. Though, they’re typically not as well-kept

002 and 003 mutant classes can be grouped together, since their treatment is largely the same. Both of these types’ mutations are easy to forcibly contain. The difference is their danger levels. 003s require close monitoring to not be harmful to others, while 002s are borderline harmless. Both types are characterised by general cooperability.

002s live in wards for 2 to 4 people, while 003s are more commonly placed in single-person wards to prevent accidents. A standard room includes a bed, a desk and a small bathroom (multiple beds and two desks in bigger wards).

KT got to take a dinosaur plushie to her room for good behaviour.

Mutants are allowed to borrow books from the library, as well as get drawing and writing materials. If they behave well, they can get a toy or even be lent a handheld console for a few days. 

002s and 003s have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together, and can spend some time in the playroom with other mutants (that’s also where they can play computer games and watch TV) – all under very strict surveillance, of course.

In some ways, their treatment is much less cruel than that of the elite 001 subjects.

KT before the DT experiment.

Though, not when it comes to experiments. 002s and 003s are very common, and are thus treated as disposable material in a scientific sense. The people holding experiments on them are a lot less concerned with minimising the subject’s pain or discomfort. Consequently, it’s not uncommon for mutants of these classes to sustain serious injuries or die as a result of experimentation.

That said, 002s have the highest likelihood of getting released from the facility, given they meet the conditions for it (more on that below).

004

004 quarters example. Basically a prison bunker

004 is a special category reserved for powerful mutants that refuse or physically cannot cooperate. This number can also be issued as a temporary or permanent punishment to misbehaving mutants. The 004 quarters are located underground and have the highest level of security, acting as a sort of bunker for the most dangerous subjects the facility has.

004 rooms are even more barebones than those of 002 and 003s. They have no access to entertainment (unless it is somehow required to contain their mutation) and cannot leave their room under any circumstances. They are more weapons than test subjects.

Do mutants receive education?

All mutants from class 003 and above receive basic education, learning to read, write and count. They additionally get curated history and sociology lessons. Some mutants, namely 001s, attend mandatory classes in certain disciplines to better apply their mutation. For example, Dmitry studied anatomy to know the precise positioning of internal organs.

Mutants are also free to study whatever sciences interest them in their free time by asking for educational materials at the library. Needless to say, most kids aren’t too interested in that, and are very uneducated compared to their outside peers.

Is there censorship in the facility?

All the media mutants are exposed to at the facility is strictly controlled.

6 y.o. Dima and his politically correct PSP.

The only movies, cartoons, comics, books and games allowed are those that either don't feature the Zone or mutants at all, those that show the discrimination mutants face outside, or those that are very obvious anti-mutant propaganda.

In essence, there are no positive depictions of human-to-mutant interaction, aside from ones between mutants and noble scientists. And, of course, nothing that goes against the general government ideology.

Can mutants be released from the facility?

It is generally assumed that mutants that go into the dome do not come out.

While they are largely dehumanised, the facility is still publicly presented as a sort of scientific sanatorium and hospice for those that cannot safely exist in society. Releasing mutants that know the truth behind the institute’s experiments into the wild is simply of no benefit to the government. So the majority are terminated once their scientific potential is exhausted or if they become too expensive to contain. As a result, few mutants live to adulthood.

Though, there are exceptions to the rule. Occasionally, mutants deemed non-hazardous can be released back into society. This is applicable to mutants that have not experienced significant mistreatment from the facility, lack the ability to talk about their experiences and optimally have been brainwashed by an appropriate 001 subject.

Have other mutants before DT and KT ever escaped?

The funny thing is, escapes aren’t a particularly rare occurrence.

Dmitry and Katya’s escape in KT’s Official Guide to Coolness.

Despite getting a lot of funding, the facility itself is very disorganised. Most of the money is blatantly pocketed by the higher-ups, so a lot of its structures and equipment are subpar – this includes its outdated safety systems. To top it all off, the security staff isn’t especially well-paid, so their diligence is highly questionable.

With all that piling up, there are around 3 cases of low-level escapes every year. Because of tight budgets and plenty of work to do as is, these escapes are generally brushed under the rug. The institute still keeps tabs on the escapees in case they happen to show up on the radar, but it rarely organises active searches or alerts the public for that matter.

DT and KT’s escape stood out because it was anything but low-level, and pretty bombastic at that. But even that didn’t warrant a public announcement for fear of panic and reputational damage. So if you’re an 003 mutant looking for an opportunity to sneak out… Hell, man, just go for it.

Wrap-up

That’s about all I can say about mutants’ life in the research centre, scratch some small factoids here and there. I tried to answer the most common questions regarding the topic, so I hope your curiosity was satisfied!

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

happiness is a butterfly

(gif credit to junkfoodcinemas on tumblr) :-)

cooper adams (trap)/f!reader (5.5k wc)

summary cooper keeps his promise to return your security clearance card after escaping police custody

content warnings smut, unsafe sex, morally dubious main character, mentions of murder and violence, guns, not really cheating but still kinda cheating i guess, dark i guess but everything is consensual

i know that this is like a twisters blog but i needed to get this off of my chest i don't have any other blogs sorry to everyone who has my post notifications on i'm in love with josh hartnett fun fact. i actually giggled out loud in the movie theater when he took his shirt off it was kind of humiliating. this is named after the lana del rey song, but has notes of velvet crowbar and dark but just a game too.

When you and everyone else you worked with were informed that Lady Raven’s show was going to be used as a rouse to catch The Butcher, a man who had been keeping everyone you knew awake well into the night for quite some time, you weren’t so sure that you were equipped to handle the responsibilities that you were being given.

Most people, when asked to picture a security guard, didn’t picture you. You weren’t intimidating, physically or in terms of your personality. You were rather disarming, but that unassumingness made you an asset because you were equipped to handle threats, you could fight back if need be, and you knew that most people would feel comfortable enough around you to not worry about doing something wrong like they would around a big, strong man.

That was the whole point of your role at the arena, you were undercover security. If you needed to take someone down, you were able to do so. If you needed to call something in, you were able to do so. It wasn’t exactly a unique position, plenty of security personnel worked in plain sight. Up until that meeting, you weren’t even so sure why so many people in your life were so concerned that you were putting yourself in danger. 

You’d claim that it’s ‘really not even more dangerous than being a secret shopper at Target’, and for the most part, you never really got put in super dangerous situations. You were allowed to escort people off the premises, and if someone did get a little aggressive, there was often a way for it to be handled without you getting hurt. There were so many procedures in place that you were never worried. 

It was difficult to not be worried when you were told that you were going to take part in taking down a serial killer, someone who you knew was killing people indiscriminately. Someone who you were being told was partially your responsibility, as security detail. When you were given your card, you felt as though it was going to play a part in your life in some way. You were just under the impression that way was something simple, though. It was important because it was going to be there during a day that you could tell your family about for years to come, surely?

Not so. 

He was tall, charming in an awkward way, devilishly handsome, and one of the best sexual encounters that you had ever had in your life. You couldn’t forget the way that he pressed you against the wall, the way that he touched you wherever he pleased but wouldn’t let you even get a taste of him beyond one fleeting kiss when you agreed to lend him your card for the day. He had promised that he would get it back when he was certain that he was safe, and at the time you were too charmed by him to actually process what you were doing - who exactly you deemed it appropriate to get finger-fucked by at your job in return for him taking your one-way ticket throughout the arena. 

The promise that he made you to return your card was never fulfilled, and when you saw on the television that The Butcher had been apprehended, you knew that it never would be. 

There was a sick feeling in your stomach. You knew that you had willingly helped The Butcher, Cooper. But it didn’t really matter, did it? He was apprehended, he wasn’t going to hurt anyone else, and the young man that he had kidnapped had survived the encounter. Lady Raven never made it to her second show, the one that had sold out to begin with, but even she had made it out alive.

Still, that sick feeling grew - because you were almost disappointed. 

Not disappointed that people had survived, it wasn’t that you thrived on chaos and wished to see more violence. You were disappointed because you wanted more from that encounter, you wanted to feel more than just his fingers, you wanted him to fulfill that promise that he had made to you to return his card. That promise had come with a lot more implications than just returning something that you weren’t going to need for work anymore now that he was caught. It made you feel sick because you knew who he was, what he was capable of, and you still found yourself wishing that you could feel his fingers digging into your hips again. You wished that you could touch him, at least once. It was so very wrong to wish something like that about him now that you knew who he was - but did you not know before? 

Glancing away from the glow of the television in your dark room, you raised the fabric of the tank top covering your upper torso. His fingers had dug into your skin harshly, it almost felt like the ghost of them still existed on your skin even though you knew that couldn’t be possible. 

A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts, but you were certain nobody should be knocking at this hour. Leaning forward, you opened the drawer of the coffee table and grabbed the small gun from inside of it, work-issued, something that you really weren’t supposed to fire when you weren’t on the clock. They should understand if you were about to be potentially murdered, right? 

Standing up, you peered through the peep-hole only to find the one person who you were certain couldn’t actually be there. But he knocked again, and you were almost sure that he had somehow made eye contact with you through the hole in the door.

“How did you figure out where I live?” You asked, opening the door and letting him in before anyone could see what was happening. “And how are you here? I saw on the news that you were in custody.” 

“Well, I was in custody.” He held up a small metal object, it looked like one of the spokes from a bike that he had bent. “I got out.”

“And my address, how’d you get my address?”

“You left your wallet sitting out, figured I’d return it to you.” 

You watched as he pulled a wallet out, and it was unmistakably yours. How had you not noticed that you didn’t have your wallet? It must have been the chaos of the day. When the concert ended, you were all briefed and asked to go home, but you knew that there was more that needed to be done once it was over. You were supposed to return for the second concert once they had done a sweep of the building to make sure that nobody was hiding out in there, but that had never happened. 

“I shouldn’t have let you into my house.” You acknowledged, taking the wallet from his hands and tossing it behind him onto the coffee table. “But I did.”

“You did. Why?” 

“You made a promise, I figure it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to keep your promise.” 

Cooper hummed in agreement, pulling the small white card out from his pocket and holding it out for you. Just as you went to grab it, he pulled it back. “I’ll give this back to you, but I want something in exchange.”

“What’s that?” 

“How much did the news actually tell you?”

“Just that you were apprehended, that you have a family.”

“It was my wife who turned me in, I can’t go back to that house. I can’t hide away with my children, I can’t even see them again.” He looked angry, you could see that, but his anger wasn’t with you. “I can’t run away because they’ll just look for me, but you…” 

“Cooper…”

“They won’t suspect that I’m with you, they don’t even know that I know you.” 

That much was true, he had pulled you into an area with no security cameras. You had already been there, and even if they questioned you, you doubted that they were actually going to be able to figure out that you’d been working with Cooper in any capacity. Still…

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“How so?”

“Well, I don’t have any clothes in your size, so I’d have to buy those. I don’t have enough food for two, or anything for you to shower with. It would look really weird if I all of a sudden had a bunch of ATM withdrawals or mens clothes on my bank statement since they have you entering a room I was in on camera.” 

“I’ll give you cash.” 

“Alright, fine. But what if they come here?”

“Why would they come here?”

“At home visit. This is the FBI, they’re thorough.” 

“They’re not going to come here, I walked into a lot of rooms with a lot of people. I doubt that they’re going to interview everyone, and there were no identifiers on the card you gave me.” 

Glancing back over at the card, you knew that he was right, but there were still flaws.

“You’re going to get caught, and then we’re both going to be put in jail. Someone gave you a card, they know that much.”

“No, they knew that I had a card. I could have stolen that from anyone, I stole a clearance pass from someone - is he under investigation too?” He stepped forward, holding the card out for you. There were a lot of different ways he could have played this, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that he actually liked you as a person - this man just wanted to lay low and survive, even though you had been told that he wasn’t the type of person who really wanted to survive to begin with. You could only imagine that he was driven by pure spite, but by god were his manipulation tactics working. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You can see that I’ve kept my promises to you.”

“Yeah, with conditions.” You replied, but you doubted that he was going to kill you. Unless something randomly snapped in him, you had done nothing to provoke him and he, technically, needed you. He couldn’t go out in public, and he really needed to lay low. Killing you would cut off any resource he has, and he would have to come up with some way for your neighbors to not get suspicious. Cooper wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill you even if he wanted to, since you were so willing to comply with him for some reason that you couldn’t quite figure out. “What do you gain from this?”

“I live, I fuck Rachel over just like she did to me.”

“The anonymous tip was her, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” 

“Right.” 

Sighing, you fought with yourself in your mind for a few moments. This was wrong, incredibly wrong. This man was a serial killer, he had done awful things. You had a gun and you could kill him, he couldn’t fight back in time when he had nothing to protect him. At the very least, you could incapacitate him and call police. It would be the right thing to do, the moral thing to do. Yet, when he looked at you, you couldn’t help but remember the feeling of his hand on your hips, of his fingers inside of you, of his brief and taunting kiss. You wanted to do the moral thing, but you couldn’t do it.

“I’ll help you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I knew you’d make the right choice.” Taking the card from his hand, you glanced it over before setting it down. 

“Do you want something to drink? I have water, lemonade, whatever. Make yourself at home, I guess.” Glancing toward the living room, you moved to turn the television off, figuring it probably wouldn’t be advisable to have the news on anymore. Flicking the light on, you pointed toward the hallway. “I’ve got a small house and I live alone, you can sleep on the couch. My room’s back there.” 

“I’ll take a water, and the couch will be just fine.” 

Nodding, you walked to the kitchen and grabbed him a bottled water, but the couch couldn’t be right, you wouldn’t be comfortable with it. “Couch isn’t fine, you can sleep with me.”

“What’s wrong with the couch?”

“I have a giant sliding glass door, I’m shocked you didn’t just break in.” He finally turned to look at it, it was very close to your couch. “I’ll work on covering it up, but you’re just going to have to sleep with me.” 

“My pleasure.”

Your heart beat sped up for a second, but you brushed it aside and handed him the water, your fingers brushing his for a second. You couldn’t have sex with him, not tonight anyway. You wanted to, desperately, but your mind was running a mile a minute and you were certain his was too, considering. Everything about this felt like a fever dream, you were harboring a serial killer fugitive in your home for what reason? Because he was hot and good with his fingers? It was shameful, sinful, but not enough that you could stop it from happening. 

“Promise me again that you’re not going to kill me.” You said, walking him to your room and opening up the drawer where you typically kept your gun at night. Though you lived in a relatively safe area, you were always rather cautious. Supposedly. Maybe it wasn’t very cautious to let a known serial killer lay low in your home. 

“I promise I’m not going to kill you.” He stepped closer to you, his thumb on your chin as he tilted your head so you were looking into his eyes. There was a coldness in them that contrasted the naturally warm brown color that his eyes had, it probably should have turned you off. You were pretty sure it was impossible for you to be turned off by him, though. “Do you believe me?”

“I believe that you kinda need me for at least a little while, so yes.”

“That hurts.” He replied, and for just a moment you wanted to smile - he was kind of funny, but you weren’t sure that he was trying to be funny. 

Cooper’s movements were swift, it was as though he was sealing his promise with a kiss just as he had the last one. But this one was deeper, much longer than the kiss that left you yearning for more in the supply closet where you had forgotten what you were even looking for. The feeling of his hand on the small of your back urged you to move closer to him, his taut frame pressed against yours in a way that made you forget every pesky worry about safety and morality. Cooper’s hand ventured lower, a gasp escaping your lips upon feeling him squeezing your backside. 

But he pulled away, and he actually had the nerve to laugh at you for pouting before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“You’re gonna need to strip, you’re not sleeping in my clean sheets in your outside clothes.” 

“These aren’t even my clothes, I took them.”

“That’s even worse. I’ll get you new clothes tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to see me strip?”

“I do want to see you strip, but no. Please?” 

The rest of the evening was… uneventful. You should know, since you were awake for most of it. 

Despite having the assurance of your gun being beside you, and knowing that logically there really was nothing this man could gain from killing you, you also knew that this was a terrible idea. He needed you for now, and probably for a little while, but were you just delaying the inevitable? People were going to assume he fled the country after a couple of months, and were you really even capable of laying that low for a couple of months just so he could kill you when he no longer needed you? But would he even want to kill you? He had the option to earlier in the arena, he had no idea at the time that it would have been shooting himself in the foot if he did. He knew that you would figure out who he was, and somehow he knew that you weren’t going to turn him in. 

Even with the belief that he, at the very least, wouldn’t kill you for a while - was this right? Surely, no. He was a serial killer, he was surviving predominantly so he could kill someone who had wronged him. This wasn’t someone who was at large for robbing a bank to feed his family, this was someone who was at large for murdering people and who was hoping to kill one member of his family. Still, it struck you as interesting that it was only one member. He seemed to care about his children in a genuine capacity, you had seen him with his daughter. At the very least, he had a capacity for human emotion, but did that simply make him more dangerous than he already was?

Sleep didn’t come easy for you. If it wasn’t a worry that the man beside you was going to turn on you on a dime and kill you two months down the road, it was your moral arguments about how you shouldn’t have even let this man into your house - how the right thing to do would be calling the police now that he was asleep beside you. If it wasn’t that, it was thoughts of how gruesome the murders had been, and a morbid curiosity about why he had done what he had done and what had driven him. You’d heard the profile, you knew that it had a lot to do with how he was raised and the issues that he had with his mother, but you wanted to know more - you wanted to hear from his own mouth what it was that drove him to do the things that he did in the manner that he did them. 

Eventually, you were able to fall asleep. Not that you slept for long, because just the slightest stir beside you caused you to wake up. But you did get a few hours of sleep, and those few hours translated into a sluggish day where you picked up men’s clothing and foods that you wouldn’t normally eat and hoped beyond all hope that someone you knew wasn’t going to be there. You were lucky that the arena was closed until further notice - with pay, thankfully - since it was still considered an active crime scene since Cooper was still at large. 

When you returned back, he was still right where you left him and seemingly relieved to change into something that didn’t belong to someone else. While he took care of himself, you took care of dinner. It was odd enough cooking for two people when you were used to just being alone, but it was even weirder knowing what the person who you were cooking for was capable of. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually question if what you were doing was morally okay or not - it wasn’t. It was not morally okay, you had ample opportunity to turn him in without worry of being killed for doing it and you chose not to. And why not? Because he was hot? Because you wanted to have sex with him? What kind of reason was that? At some point, you really just got tired of arguing with yourself in your mind and focused instead on whether you were actually going to have sex with him.

Sure, he fingered you one time, but he did that so you’d do him a favor. Sure, he’d kissed you since then, but was that just a thank you for helping him? And, sure, he was driven to kill Rachel - but it wasn’t like he was technically divorced. Killing his wife was probably a lot more severe and permanent than divorcing her, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was looking to have sex with someone who he had just meant. At some point, you had to consider your own morality in ensuring that - if that happened - it wasn’t solely because he wanted somewhere to stay. 

Once you had finished cooking, you took the opportunity to install the curtains that you had purchased while you were away. It was true that you had a fence in your backyard, but it was also true that you were still worried that - being that you were on camera in the same room as Cooper - you were being monitored, or at risk of being monitored. You’d intended on getting curtains for the glass door anyway, some sort of worry about people peeping through the glass. Of course, you hadn’t accounted for purposefully letting the danger inside of your home and deciding to look past the amorality of it. 

“Need some help with that?” 

“I’m good.” 

“Looks like you need some help with that.” Cooper moved with such ease, adjusting the curtains so they were installed in the right place. He was incredibly tall, and had no qualms with leaning so closely behind you that you could absolutely feel him pressed against your back. It sent a shiver up your spine, but that only made him lean just a little bit closer. 

When he was finished, you would expect that he’d move away. Instead, you felt his large hands move down to your hips, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched his reflection in the glass. He could see you, he was looking right at you, and you wanted to stop him and remind him that you made dinner, but the feeling of his lips against your neck had you forgetting anything else that was lingering in your mind. 

“You don’t have to have sex with me just so you have a place to stay, you know.”

“I had other ways of getting your help, I’m not looking for a favor.” He replied, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin on your neck. “Unless you don’t want to… but I feel like you do.” 

“I do want to,” You replied, but turned around to face him anyway. He left his hands on your hips, not bothering to move away from you. He was so close to you, you could smell the soap that he had just used in the shower on him when you looked at him. “After we eat, I spent extra money on food for two.”

“After we eat, then.”

Cooper leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you had a difficult time controlling your body’s unavoidable attraction to the man. Wetness still lingered on your neck from his mouth, and all you could focus on was how badly you wanted to look down and confirm that he wanted this just as badly as you did. But he pulled away, giving you exactly what you had asked for and joining you for dinner. 

It was tense and somewhat awkward to sit down at eat with him, but it also seemed like something was was awkward for him, too. Not because he was thinking about you, or because he was even thinking about being on the run, but because he was used to eating meals with his children. Regardless of who he was, regardless of what he was capable of, it was inarguable that he cared about his children. You were certain that his mind was simply lingering on them, on what they were doing and what they were thinking of him at this very moment. Despite knowing that he was The Butcher, knowing that he really didn’t deserve much sympathy since he had made the decision to dow hat he had done, you still felt bad to see a man so desperately yearning to be with his children again. A yearning that you both knew was never going to be fulfilled because, even if he could find a way to get in contact with them again, it was unlikely that they were going to want to be in contact with him knowing what he had done, what he planned on doing to their other parent in an act of revenge. 

By the time you were finished eating, the only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted the man sitting in front of you - and how badly you were sure he wanted to distract himself from whatever thoughts were lingering in the back of his mind. Trying to wash the dishes lasted about two seconds before he was behind you again, and this time you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than give in.

“Finish cleaning.”

“But-”

“Finish cleaning or we won’t do anything.” He responded, but made no effort to make it easier on you as he pulled your hips against his, the rather apparent evidence that he wanted this as badly as you did pressing against your ass as you tried your best to continue washing the dishes that were in the sink. “Good girl.”

“You’re a tease.”

“Just organized.” 

You knew he was organized, you knew it bothered him if things weren’t clean and tidy. Each of those things were discussed during the breakdown of the profile of the man, so you doubted that he was going to be much different from that while living under the same roof as him even if it was only temporary. You had no qualms with washing your dishes and keeping your house clean, you simply took issue with it when you were trying to do a chore and had his mouth against your skin.

It took you all of two minutes - a personal record - to have everything cleaned and to have him turning you around and lifting you onto the dry part of the cupboard. You knew that he was strong, how else would he have been able to effortlessly lift the people that he was kidnapping? It wasn’t a shock to you that he would have no issue in placing you on your own cupboard, but you simply whined out a complaint along the lines of ‘I just cleaned in here the other day’. 

“You can clean again, I’m feeling impatient.”

“You really should help me clean since you’re not paying rent.” 

“Sounds fair.” 

Cooper seemingly was being honest about being impatient, wasting no time in pulling your shirt over your head and undoing the bra that was hooked at your back. He had a lot more ease with that than even you did sometimes, but you chose not to think too hard about it as you felt his lips against yours. He pressed himself in between your legs, spreading them a bit wider than was entirely comfortable for the muscles in your thighs, but that slight apprehension was entirely forgotten the moment you felt his hips grinding into yours.

A sigh left your throat, his hands complimenting the feeling nicely as he brought one to your chest, his thumb pressed against your nipple. He had quite large hands, but considering his overall stature, you weren’t very surprised by that. Your own hands got a bit adventurous, moving to undo his pants while he moved back slightly so you could do what it was that you wanted to do. Cooper helped you remove them, but you noted that he didn’t allow his pants to fall to the floor - that must be something that bothered him.

“Please take your shirt off.”

“Since you used your manners, I’d be happy to oblige you.” He responded, taking the shirt of but very neatly setting it down beside you. Your eyes locked on his, that familiar darkness still lingering in them as he looked at you. Bringing a hand up, he let you explore his torso, the warmth of his skin contrasting the coldness in his eyes - even when he seemed to be doing something intimate, there was never much warmth behind them. Not when he looked at you, anyway - you’d noticed that he looked very warmly at his daughter during the concert, it was something that made him stick out to you in the first place. 

“I really need you to fuck me.” 

Cooper huffed out a laugh at your bluntness, but wasted very little time in helping you get your pants undone and pulling them down your hips along with your panties. You watched him as he set them into a neat pile with his shirt, the coolness of the counter underneath you making you move a little bit closer to him. But any coldness that you still felt was gone soon thereafter. The head of his cock pushed against your clit first, a whimper leaving your lips as you felt him teasing you. 

“So fucking wet, have you been thinking about this all day?”

“I’ve been thinking about this since yesterday.” You admitted, but you were certain that he knew that. 

“I have too.” He responded, pushing inside of you a moment later and giving you very little time to process what he had said. Leaning forward fully, Cooper supported your body so you could press against him. He set a brutal pace, giving you very little time to adjust to the stretch of the size of a man of his stature. It was painful at first, but that pain was soothed by the feeling of his mouth against yours, by the sound of his moans filling your ears and reverberating against your lips. 

The pain melted away into pleasure rather quickly, fingers absentmindedly roaming his body before settling on his forearm. 

“You’re taking it so well, honey, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” Whatever thoughts were plaguing his mind were quickly forgotten as he pounded into you, and any remaining apprehensions in your own head were gone just as quickly as his were. “If I had time yesterday, I would have bent you over in that supply closet. You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck- I would have-”

“You’re sick for fucking me, you know that.” He was taunting you now, and he seemed to be getting off on it - in a weird way, you were too. 

“I know.”

“But you love it anyway.”

“I do- feels so good.” 

“I know, I know it does baby.” His taunts faded into coos, but his tone was still teasing and his hips were still snapping against yours with reckless abandon. Everything felt overwhelming, him inside of you, filling you more than anyone else ever could. His hand squeezing that part of your hip again, his hot breath against your lips - your breaths and moans fading together, and the feeling of the friction against your nipples as your chest was pressed tightly against his. It was all too much, but somehow not enough; you really couldn’t get enough of him. “But now I can have you whenever I want, isn’t that right?”

“Yes-” You let out a squeal at a particularly harsh thrust, a coil building in your stomach as you felt one of his hands roaming down your skin before he pressed a finger against your clit. “Whenever you want.”

“Such a good girl, I think you deserve to cum. You’ve been so accommodating, so sweet.” 

“Please-”

Cooper’s finger sped up against your clit, your eyes shutting and your head falling against his chest as he brought you over the edge. He let you ride out your orgasm before pulling out to finish against your stomach, bringing his fingers down to collect the cum on your skin. Your eyes felt clouded over as you opened them, gazing into his that were also still blown out with lust. He watched as you took his fingers into your mouth, his own lips slightly ajar as he took in the sight of you taking the taste of him onto your tongue.

“Let’s get you into the bath.”

By the time that you had finished your shower - a shower that was riddled with mistakes as your legs were just a little bit shaky, he had placed all of your clothes into the washer and had seemingly dug through your drawers to find you some pajamas. It was definitely not the polite thing to do, but you weren’t sure what you expected from him.

This issue with him was, as you got back into bed with him and let him hold you - which, you weren’t sure if it was more for you or for him - was that he was so normal. You knew there were things wrong with him, but he appeared so normal and tame that you were almost able to forget them. But you knew about them, you knew what was wrong with him and you knew that you were just as bad for hiding him from the police, for allowing him a place in your life even though you were well-aware of the awful things that he did, the awful things that he was planning on doing in the future. 

Yet, as you felt his fingers brushing through your hair and the warmth of his body against your own, there was no part of you that wanted to change the decisions that you had made regardless of the risk and amorality of it all.

[good-chimes]

Operational Log from the Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.):

AGENTS: “ImpulseSV”, “Skizzleman”, “Grian”, “GoodTimesWithScar”

SUPERVISOR: [Redacted]

[Impulse has submitted a request for ‘$2000’ for reason ‘Van’]

SUPERVISOR: Hi boys. Pleasure to be working with you. Can you give a better reason than ‘van’ for why you need two fucking thousand American dollars?

IMPULSE: Oh, sorry sir. We just need to replace some things in the van.

GRIAN: By which he means everything in the van.

SUPERVISOR: You lost ALL YOUR EQUIPMENT?

IMPULSE: You’re new, aren’t you, sir. Have you…met Scar?

SUPERVISOR: I have your personnel files. What does this have to do with Scar?

GRIAN: Oh, you’ll find out.

IMPULSE: Our last supervisor just sort of, uh, approved things. I’ve got receipts.

SKIZZ: We’re at the school, guys! Stop chatting and get in there!

IMPULSE: Gotta go!

[crackle]

GRIAN: Okay, so Scar, Impulse and Skizz are in the building. So far we’ve got the power turned on but no clues. There’s a spooky sort of bonfire in the main hall. Got skulls on it.

SCAR: I lit the bonfire!

GRIAN: Breaking news, Scar has lit the bonfire.

SUPERVISOR: Why did you light the bonfire!? You could draw the attention of a ghost!

GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.

SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.

GRIAN: Can’t, I’m in the van. [further noise of outrage from Skizz]. Impulse is reporting EMF Level 5—didn’t anyone set up cameras? What kind of team doesn’t set up cameras? We’ve got a new supervisor to impress.

SUPERVISOR: Cameras should not be set up during a mission! You should have set them up in the daytime!

IMPULSE: We could use some cameras.

SKIZZ: GRIAN, YOU GET IN HERE, BUDDY.

GRIAN: Okay, okay, fine! I’ll get the cameras.

SUPERVISOR: Why are you risking the whole team in the building at the same—

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$5’ for reason ‘glowsticks’]

SUPERVISOR: Why on god’s green earth do you need glowsticks!?

SKIZZ: Scar, those don’t do anything.

SCAR: They keeps you safe from ghosts!

SKIZZ: What, because they’re too cool for raves?

SCAR: I want glowsticks or I’m resigning.

SUPERVISOR: You can’t resign in the middle of mission!

IMPULSE: Haunt! Everyone quiet!

SUPERVISOR: Wait, a real haunt? That’s highly dangerous! Get out!

[crackle]

IMPULSE: False alarm, that noise was Skizz and Scar frying hot dogs.

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$1’ for reason ‘needs salt’]

SUPERVISOR: Not approved! You’re not supposed to fry hotdogs on an eldritch bonfire!

SKIZZ: We were hungry!

GRIAN: Wait, you guys have hotdogs in there? I’m coming in.

IMPULSE: Oh, wait—wait—yep, there’s the haunt.

[crackle]

GRIAN: Well, Scar’s dead.

SUPERVISOR: Oh god! What!

IMPULSE: I was wondering why they didn’t get attacked. Just a slow ghost, I guess.

SUPERVISOR: An agent is dead and you’re joking!?

GRIAN: Oh, he’ll be fine.

SKIZZ: I got some tarot cards here.

SUPERVISOR: Don’t touch the cursed items! Find your colleague’s body!

[crackle]

SCAR: I hate all of you. You left me to die.

SUPERVISOR: What? Just a goddamn minute. That was a joke? Agent Scar is alive?

IMPULSE: Scar, buddy, cheer up.

SCAR: Grian shut a door in my face!

SUPERVISOR: One agent impeded another’s investigation?

SCAR: Yeah! I was impuded!

GRIAN: What! How is this my fault! A ghost was coming at me and I shut a door!

SCAR: And killed me!

GRIAN: That sounds like a you problem.

SCAR: Sir, I want to file a complaint. About Grian.

SUPERVISOR: Well, put in a placeholder and we’ll—

[Scar has submitted file ‘grain Complaint’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘Grian’s Official Resignation Letter’]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this sounds like it’s gotten heated, let’s take it offline. Agent Scar, we’ll look into this later. Agent Grian, put your resignation on hold.

IMPULSE: They do this a lot.

SKIZZ: It’s affection. You love each other.

SCAR: I love Grian not murdering me.

GRIAN: I love Scar saving me some hot dogs. Oh wait, he didn’t.

SKIZZ: C’mon, fellas, where’s this ghost?

IMPULSE: We gotta use some of these cursed items.

GRIAN: I vote Scar looks in the haunted mirror. Anyone else want to volunteer? No? See, vote carried.

[Scar has submitted file ‘Im Resigning’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘I’m Resigning HARDER’]

[Scar has submitted file ‘No your not’]

[Last 3 requests have been denied]

SUPERVISOR: How on earth do you work with them?

[Grian has submitted file ‘Turbo Resignation Letter’]

IMPULSE: Oh, me and Skizz have got a knack for it, sir. You just have to let them work it out. Or shut one of them up for the ghost to get.

[Last 1 request has been denied]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this is sounding like a really dangerous situation and I think you should get out of there. I’m calling a retreat.

SKIZZ: Gimme the mirror, I’ll try saying the ghost’s name.

SUPERVISOR: Did you hear me? Is this thing on? Saying the name is EXPLICITLY the one thing that is unsafe to do on missions!

GRIAN: Huh. Maybe we should have read the manual.

SKIZZ: Just let me do it, sir, we get results.  

SUPERVISOR: Are you four always like this?

IMPULSE: Oh, no. Usually these missions go much worse.

SUPERVISOR: No! No, nobody is looking in any cursed mirrors! I have eighty successful mission supervisions under my belt—

SCAR: Sounds uncomfortable.

SUPERVISOR: Our department has a clean record of no agent deaths—

GRIAN: Oh damn, I knew I should have submitted our reports.

SUPERVISOR: And I—What reports?

IMPULSE: Don’t tell him about the reports!

SUPERVISOR: Is this data right? You haven’t sent in a report in… five YEARS?

GRIAN: One thing and another, you know.

SUPERVISOR: No! Enough! You are the WORST team I have ever worked with and every practice you have is UNSAFE and I bet one of you is looking in the cursed mirror RIGHT NOW—

[crackle]

[crackle]

GRIAN: Scar’s dead again.

SUPERVISOR: [calming breath] Okay, you lot clearly have your jokes, like last time, but I need you to know that’s not funny.

GRIAN: I can get a picture of how he ragdolled. His head’s on backwards. It’s hilarious.

[Grian has submitted photo file lol.jpg]

SUPERVISOR: … That … that is a man who has been killed by a malevolent spirit! That spirit is deadly!

SKIZZ: Funny, the ones they send us on are always deadly.

IMPULSE: Get him back to the van.

SUPERVISOR: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! I AM CALLING AN AMBULANCE!

IMPULSE: You don’t need to do that—

GRIAN: Hey! Dots! I just saw dots!

SKIZZ: Yes! Mark off dots!

IMPULSE: Sweet, we’ve got it! It’s a White Lady! Let’s go, guys!

SUPERVISOR: Is anyone listening? Is anyone listening to me?

[crackle]

SUPERVISOR: Come in. Come in.

SUPERVISOR: I know you’re driving back. Answer your goddamn radio.

SCAR: Well, hello there.

SUPERVISOR: This is very serious. I have to report Agent Scar’s death—Agent Scar? Is that you?

SCAR: The one, the only!

SUPERVISOR: You were dead!

SCAR: Oh, yeah, but then they brought me into the van and we left.

SUPERVISOR: How—what—

SCAR: I dunno, ask Impulse! I’m usually dead by this point.

SUPERVISOR: Agent Impulse! How!

IMPULSE: Me and Skizz have been doing this a long time, sir. Guess we’ve just got a knack.

SUPERVISOR: A knack for—a knack for—I’m going to get a drink.

SCAR: Toast our great success. Hey, hey, Grian, that’s my hot dog. I died for that hot dog!

GRIAN: You weren’t looking! Finder’s keepers!

IMPULSE: Careful of the wheel, guys, careful of the wheel—

SUPERVISOR: I’m never working with your team again!

SKIZZ: Yeah? I get ya, buddy. See you next week.

[costumersupportdept]

I have developed a Theory that the reason so many theaters seem to have absolutely batshit bureaucratic/management problems is a twofold miasma of stupidity that it takes a lot of willpower/clarity to NOT get sucked into.

1)The Peter Principle/"failing up." Laurence J Peter describes this as "employees (being) promoted based on their success in previous jobs until they reach a level at which they are no longer competent, as skills in one job do not necessarily translate to another. " I, while a pretty good draper (costume patternmaker) and a reasonably good costume team lead, am absolutely abhorrent at dealing with paperwork beyond what I need to do the actual costuming. I do not enjoy or do well with spreadsheets or budgeting or trying to assemble work calendars. I do not want to do jobs that take that.

HOWEVER: Miasma 2.

2) The only way to get paid more is to move up (usually). This means that if I want to make more than I'm currently making at the top of one hierarchy, I have to move into a different one, and that one is the personnel management and spreadsheet one. Since theater is a low paying gig at the best of times, people will generally jump at chances to make more money if they can get them.

Which creates its own twofold nightmare- people who get promoted may not actually know what they're doing in the spreadsheets and personnel end of the world, AND/OR you've just taken a Really Good artist out of the Art end of things and plopped them into the Paperwork end of things, sometimes with a promise that they will still get to Art (spoiler, that rarely works out).

So SINCE theater is a mediocre paying job AT BEST, there's almost an enforced scramble into higher and higher levels *away* from The Art, which means (back to the Peter Principle) you wind up with admin folks who may have been great artists, but are NOT equipped be businesspeople or Leaders of Men (in the generic) at all.

And it takes a LOT of stubborn refusal to budge and boundary drawing to be a person who WANTS TO STAY IN THE ART, because that subtle/sometimes not subtle push upwards for $$ is always happening.

Now, how do we fix it? Well, it's going to have to be a multipronged approcach, but I know we could START with paying the Art Level Folks more to calm down the aggressive climb upwards.

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

thanks for the support!!

reply to be added!

[donald-trump-official]

It may be a ridiculous notion that’s never going to happen, but since there’s talk about Texas seceding from the union it’s a good time to remind everyone that would entail:

- no federal funds whatsoever, including disaster relief, medicare, social security, border security, or anything else that uses federal tax money

- Texas would be subject to tariffs on imports and exports, not just from the US but from all other countries

- ports of entry would have to be established into the United States for goods

- Texas citizens would needs a visa/passport to travel into the United States and US citizens would need the same to travel to Texas

- Texas would be forced into creating and backing their own currency, since the US dollar is backed by the federal government

- the current zip codes throughout the state would be abolished, since USPS isn’t going to deliver out of country

- there would be a mass exodus of citizens, primarily from cities, who do not want to leave the union, likely crippling the work force

- big corporations would pull themselves out of the state as well, crippling the state economy along many different facets

- they would have to draw up an entirely new constitution and draw up a new slate of laws based off it

- they would lose their federal representation in Congress, giving democrats the majority in both chambers

- all federal military bases, personnel, equipment, research, etc would have to be entirely relocated outside of the state

But hey! States rights, ammiright?

[rpfofficial]

can i be so so so ernst for a second. and by a second i mean a really long ranty post. but it pisses me off how many people characterise edward little as incompetent or useless or something along those lines because i think that reading misunderstands him entirely . like he is actually good at his job. he's competent in his role as first lieutenant to the extent that he can do what the job would Normally require of him, and do it well. obviously he doesn't function under the dire intense conditions of the show because who would, he's never done this shit before, he's second in command to a depressed alcoholic who takes at least 2 months to get his shit together, he's sworn to secrecy about said depression and alcoholism, he's had loyalty to his captain and adherence to the system and hierarchy deeply engrained in him because ofcourse he has, every navy personnel on that expedition has, and the workplace environment is DIABOLICAL aboard those ships and he is so eager to do well and so eager to please and so devoted to crozier that he operates on 90% anxiety & stress and 10% willpower. The fact that he fumbles at terror camp when the mutiny starts is not because he's incompetent, that is literally the worst situation to be in when you have just been thrust into a command position WHICH HE WASNT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE IN because fitzjames is THERE but he's too busy being a christ figure in his tent to pay attention to what is happening and little is doing his best. he doesn't have the knowledge and experience crozier has, sure, but in his defense crozier did not leave him well equipped and is frankly putting far too much pressure on him at literally every turn! edward little is not useless, he's overworked and underappreciated and he's literally sad all the time can you please cut him some slack. you can see in subtle moments where he does take charge that he's good, he's good at this, he's amiable and considerate and efficient. he follows orders well, and maybe that's his downfall, he's too good at following orders. when he finally steps up to the mantle and takes charge and has the confidence to make a decision in authority, the rest of the men have already made a decision without him, and that's not his fault is it!!!!!! by all means edward little is pathetic, a people pleaser, has little to no self confidence and is overall a wet cat of a human being but i will not stand by and see people call him incompetent and useless, that's what francis crozier wants you to believe and do you really want to take a page out of crozier's book on how to treat edward little? No you don't

[callsign-dexter]

Sweet Treats and Teasing

Request: Hi can i request a kelly severide x reader where kelly Severide introduces yn as his his girlfriend she brings cookies/ brownies to firehouse 51 and his co works they tease her a bit

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

A/N: thank you @maximeseveridecasey for requesting and I'm so sorry it took forever to get out!

Your life was great. You had an amazing boyfriend who was a firefighter and looked great in uniform. He would drop anything for you and you for him. You couldn't ask for anything better and you didn't want anything better. You were happy with your hunk of handsome firefighter. His name is Kelly Severide. 

You run a pretty big bakery/deli/cafe, Station Sweets Cafe and Deli, close to the firehouse and it was sometimes a blessing and a curse. Big as in three stories tall upstairs for lounging and eating, main floor for food, kitchen, lounging and eating, and a basement for storage, inventory, appliances, and maintenance equipment. You get a lot of college kids studying for exams or just need a place to hang out. You also get a lot of your customers who are first responders and medical care personnel. You knew almost everyone, though you hadn't met Kelly's crew or not that you know of. They may have come in when you weren't there. 

It was a blessing because you weren't too far from your boyfriend and a curse because each time, they got called out they drove past your bakery and it made you a nervous wreck. Even though you were the boss you also worked at the bakery/deli and loved it, you have the best staff you could ask for and it was perfect. 

You and Kelly met when he walked into your bakery needing something for a last-minute pick up for a first responders get together. When you both laid eyes on each other the both of you melted and fell in love. Now it's been 4 years of nothing but bliss. You could see a future with him and what you didn't know was that Kelly was thinking the same thing. Sure, he has had his fair share of flings and girlfriends but when he met you, he didn't want anybody else, he just wanted you. Some people could say you changed him for the better. 

Currently you are snuggled up with Kelly and enjoying his heat that he always puts off on the chilly Chicago morning. If it were up to you and him you both wouldn't leave but sadly reality came rearing its head, well at least for Kelly it was your day off, by the sound of his alarm going off. You groaned and he did too and was quick to turn off. “Do you have to go?” You asked as you rolled over to look at him and he chuckled while smiling and kissing your forehead. 

“Yes. You know how much I would love to stay in bed with you all morning but people need saving.” He said, you sighed frowning just a little.

“Can't they take a break from doing anything idiotic for one day?” You asked and he chuckled.

“I so wish, Baby. Now come on, I have to take a shower.” He said 

“Can I join?” You asked and smiled.

“Always, you know I would never say no to you joining me in the shower.” He said as he started to get out of bed and you followed him. 

After your nice hot steamy shower, you both were now in the kitchen. He had one his uniform and you had your hair up in a wet bun and just a shirt hanging on your body. He admired you from the doorway of the kitchen as you moved around easily getting things out for the day. He moved to where he was behind you and took you in his arms making you squeal. “KELS!” You shrieked out and he chuckled as he kissed your neck, you leaned your head giving him better access. “You're gonna be late.” You said as you turned in his arms and threw your arms around his neck. 

“Hmmmm they'll understand.” He said and you smiled and shook your head. 

“No, you need to get going. You have lives to save, remember?” You asked 

“Yea I remember.” He said and you kissed him.

“I'll see you in three days.” You said and groaned and pulled a face.

“Three days is too long.” He replied and you nodded in agreement.

“But it's what you signed up for and you love it.” You reminded him.

“Yes, I know. I do love it but I love you more.” He said and you chuckled and pushed his chest.

“Get going you big sap. I may or may not bring some treats down to you later.” You said

“If you do, the entire firehouse will love you for it.” He said and you smiled.

“Oh, don't I know.” You replied, you had sent some goodies down to them via one of your workers but they never knew you were the one to make them. Most of your workers knew how to make the food and that's because you had the recipes in a book and they were very simple and easy to follow. 

“You know you should stop by and I can introduce you to the team. Let them know you're the one making the treats that they can't seem to get enough of.” He said as he got ready to leave. Half of the time when you were off you sent Kelly with some goodies that you had left over from baking at home for the bakery or just in general and he always comes back with requests for more. Now Kelly can cook and bake but his baking doesn't live up to yours and you can cook really good, some say even better than Kelly and you take pride in that and sometimes tease him about it. 

“I just might have to do that. Can't have you taking all the credit for the sweets I bring and send.” You said and he laughed a very continuous laugh.

“Hey, I can bake.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“That you can but I'm just a little bit better at it.” You said and he nodded and cocked an eyebrow.

“You got that right.” He said and then looked down at his watch “I gotta go. I love you.” He said as he planted another kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too.” You said and he started to walk out “Be safe!” You yelled out to him and he turned around, body out the door and hand on the door knob. 

“Always.” He said and then winked and he was off leaving you smiling and shaking your head. Now you were left to sort out what you wanted to make. You thought about making some s'mores treats for them and to be honest you wanted some too. So that's what you set out on doing. First you needed to go to the grocery for in general food and supplies for home and the bakery, yes you had a truck coming but one of your workers texted you that they needed something before the truck got there tomorrow morning and you being the best boss told them you would be there soon. You figured you would get those supplies and then go back to finish shopping for home supplies.

As you arrived at the grocery store you checked your phone one more time for what you needed for your store and quickly went to that section. “Alright, let’s see where is it?” You asked yourself and began to look through the shelves.

“What can I help you with?” Someone asked but you knew that voice and smiled and turned around and saw your boyfriend.

“Hi there, handsome. I’m looking for some ground cinnamon.” You said and he smiled.

“Don’t you have a truck coming in with those supplies?” Kelly asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I do but they won’t be in until tomorrow morning and we are out out.” You explained 

“I see. I see.” He said and then you turned back around and started to look for it once again. “Here it is.” He said and grabbed it and gave it to you.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You said and turned around and kissed him and he gladly kissed back.

“That’s my job, Babe.” He said and you laughed. “Still coming to the station?” He asked.

“Yup! Just have to deliver this to the shop and then go back here to grab supplies and groceries for home.” You said and he hummed.

“You be careful out there.” He said 

“Always.” You said and winked using the move he used on you that morning and he laughed as you began to walk away. You were checking out and heading to your shop. It wasn’t that far of a drive and you arrived pretty quickly. You parked and grabbed your bag and walked into the building. 

“Good morning, Y/N/N.” Will Halstead, one of your regulars and best friends, said and you smiled at him.

“Hey, Will.” You said 

“Isn’t it supposed to be your day off?” He asked and you chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, but we ran out of ground cinnamon.” You said and he chuckled.

“I see. I will let you get to it. Have a nice day!” He said and you smiled.

“You too.” You said and then quickly walked to the back where Leslie, the one who texted you, was there. “Here is your ground cinnamon.” You said and she looked relieved.

“Thank you so much! I’m so sorry you had to be here on your day off but I couldn’t wait until the morning to make these. We have a large order for a party tonight.” She said and you smiled at her.

“Not a problem. I was on my way to the grocery store so it was not a problem.” You said and she smiled.

“Is there a way I can make it up to you?” She asked and you shook your head.

“No, you do enough around here.” You said

“Thank you again.” She said and you smiled and then got back to work and then you were heading back to the store to grab supplies for the s’mores treats and supplies for home. It was a very quick trip and the next thing you knew you were back at home bringing in the groceries and started on the treats. 

You put on music and began your baking. You enjoyed backing anything that you could, some you have recipes for and others you didn’t. Occasionally you would get a text from Kelly and in response you would send him a picture of what you were doing and he always responded that you were teasing him but you reminded him that he was going to get some and he had full access to the sweets when he was at home. 

After 4 fours of baking, you had enough for the entire station for the three days that they would be on shift. You packed them up and then put them in a bag and headed off to the station. It wasn’t a very far drive and you were thankful for that. When you parked next to Kelly’s truck you got out and grabbed the sweets and walked into the station all vehicles were there which meant that they were all still there. As you walked in you spotted Kelly. “Hey, Kels.” You said and he was quick to turn around and a smile appeared on his face.

“Hey, Baby.” He said and walked over to you. “Wasn’t expecting you so soon.” He said and you huffed.

“Bull shit yes you were.” You said and he chuckled.

“Ok, yes, I was. So, what did you bring us?” He asked 

“Oh, just some s’mores cookies and brownies.” You said

“I heard s’mores.” A woman’s voice came through and you looked around Kelly and smiled.

“You heard correctly.” You said as she came closer and then everyone was coming out. 

“Guy’s this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” Kelly said “Y/N this is Christopher Herrmann, Stella Kidd, Harold Capp, Joe Cruz, Gabriela Dawson, Sylvie Brett, Wallace Boden, Matthew Casey, Blake Gallo, and Brian Zvonecek aka Otis.” He said and introduced each and every one of them.

“It’s nice to finally meet all of you.” You said a little bit nervously. 

“We finally get to meet the girl that made Kelly actually settle down.” Otis said and you chuckled.

“It wasn’t easy but hey I like a challenge.” You said “Please feel free to eat the sweets, they're s’more cookies and brownies.” You said and everyone. 

“Let’s get these inside and where it is warmer.” Kelly said 

“Oh man our man Kelly is down bad.” Casey said “You know ever since you had become a couple he has changed for the good. It must be the food.” He said as he picked up a container and started to walk into the station and into the kitchen/ break room. 

“Oh my gosh. These are so good!” Gabriela said “Wait… do you own Station Sweets Cafe and Deli?” She asked and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I do.” You said

“I knew you looked so familiar. I love that place.” She said and you smiled.

“Thank you.” You said

“I knew Kelly couldn’t have cooked all those delicious sweets.” Joe said

“Hey! I can bake.” He said 

“That is very true. He can.” You said

“You keep feeding us these treats and we’ll have to start working out more.” Blake said and you laughed.

“I think you all will be just fine considering your jobs are a work out. I could never.” You said. The longer you stayed the more you got comfortable around them and the more the teasing you got but you gave it back to them.  

“So, Y/N, how did Kelly convince you to give him your number?” Stella asked

“She made me work for it.” Kelly said and you nodded.

“He kept coming into the store but I was never there or I was busy but I noticed him. He finally got to talk to me when he needed something for the first responder’s cookout and the rest was history. So, there really was no convincing.” You said. More questions were fired at you but you answered them with ease and Kelly just sat back as you handled his team with ease. He knew you were the right one for him and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. 

You could’ve stayed all day but the bell rang and they had to go to work. Kelly turned to you as everyone ran out to get their gear on. “I’m sorry for all the teasing.” He said and you shook your head and waved him off.

“Nonsense. They are great. I’m just glad I was the one to settle you down.” You said 

“I’m glad it was you too.” He said

“You need to go.” You said and started to push him out.

“Alright, I love you.” He said and kissed you and you kissed him back.

“I love you too. Be safe.” You said

“Always.” He said and winked at you and smirked and then he was pulling on his gear and they were speeding off. As you watched them go off you smiled to yourself, you were so glad you were the one he decided to settle down with. You couldn’t imagine your life without him and you didn’t want to. Everything was perfect.

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[mandyarin]

Spring has come to me

Shohei Ohtani x Reader (female pronouns)

Synopsis: A story of love between the team physician and the superstar of the team.

Author's note: Hey y'all this is my first ever fic! I have been reading fics since forever and have been contemplating on making my own for the longest time and well my first piece is dedicated to Shohei Ohtani, since not much people write for this talented gorgeous man, I figured why not. Feedbacks are highly appreciated, altho pls don't be mean :< i didn't check for grammar or punctuation mistakes so I'm sorry for dat :>> there might also be some mistakes abt team technicalities and dynamics sooo :3

Working as part of the Dodgers' medical team was not really the dream but the opportunity was dropped into your lap and you'd be a fool not to take it. Spring training has started but not everyone on the team has been on the field as consistently as the star player of the team, Shohei Ohtani. Without fail he has been on the stadium even before beginning spring training. As part of the medical team you have been corresponding closely with the rehabilitation personnel that works closely with the players, most notably Shohei. It was slightly different from working in a hospital but certainly a lot less work and stress. Although the higher ups breathing down your neck making sure the star was going to be alright might be causing you a headache. You weren't much for baseball or sports in general, what with being an over achiever who seeks validation through academics, never having much extra curricular unless it involves the academe, despite that though, you have certainly heard of the name Shohei Ohtani and the ripples of his achievements.

You were at your office, contemplating the best course of care to be administered to common baseball injuries and rehabilitation, personalized treatment, the best apparatus to use. Your mind running through every possible scenario and making contingency plan for each. Not only is your skill and credibility as a professional on the line but also a player's professional career. Everything has to be perfect. Nothing more, nothing less.

A knock came through the door, "Come in" you called.

"Hey would you like to meet the players? They're out on the field right now, I figured we introduce you", Called out a staff member as he entered through the door.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just save this and I'll be right out."

There wasn't much distance to walk out on the field, you see the long stretch of players talking amongst themselves, stretching, checking out their equipments.

"Alright, everyone listen up. This is the new team physician joining us this season. She will be corresponding with the medical staff and personnel in ensuring the best care and treatment for every single one of you. She is one of the best in orthopedics. I expect that you guys will heed her advices regarding to your health." The team manager gathered everyone near him and had me introduce myself to everyone present.

Everyone had the opportunity to introduce themselves, accompanied by a handshake. Soon it was the superstar's turn. A hand that shook yours in greeting, dwarfing it in his roughed up hand. He gave you a smile that reached his eyes, you like his eyes, you decide. Like crescent moons as he gives a slight chuckle.

It wasn't all that hard to get occupied with Shohei's matters, you had to correspond with his surgeon about his recent surgery, you had to be in constant communication with the physical therapist in charge of him and you had to plan and administer the best care for his current state. One might say that you are too focused on him despite being the team physician but that is just the effect of having a $700 million player in your care. Not a thing spared if it's for his well-being. Besides he's the only player in the current roster with the most recent surgery done and you'll be damned if he's not good to go when the season starts.

Being in close proximity with him made you realize things about him. The talent he has and the grit he puts in everything he does on the field makes him the amazing player that he is, you have not seen someone as dedicated as he was in their craft. He's meticulous in his actions, moves with intention. Careful and purposeful. When he is off the zone, his laughter rings, albeit like a hyena. Wide smiles and the carefree way he carries himself. So carefree but so sure. You have never seen him look like he was out of place in his new team. He always looked like he belonged where he is, wherever might that be. An energy so magnetic but the type of magnetism that pulls you in slowly, carefully, like a smooth caress and then when you least expect it you were pulled into his orbit and you were none the wiser.

It started when he would be in your space. Rushing towards you as he finishes his set, like he has a special radar that is exclusively for you. Whether you're observing him or the other players or talking to other staff members. Nothing will stop him from going to you. Smiling down at you with a boyish smile, engaging you in conversations like "What have you been up to?", "Are you here to supervise?", "Are you here to see me?", "I'm gonna practice my batting today, can you check my form?". It flustered you at first but it has been such a common occurence that it has failed to phase you anymore.

Then, he would message you outside working hours. Sending pictures and videos of his adventures with Dekopin, fully taking advantage at the fact that you are weak for cute animals. You guys would talk about the everyday mundane things like the weather, food, hobbies and many other things. Then came more personal questions that dug deeper to reveal more of each other. A peek inside this amazing athlete, the person inside. Grasping the melancholy he feels, the little joys in his days, the trepidation that tomorrow brings, the pressure of the pedestal that he was put on. He seemed a little more human, a little more relatable. A little more like a boy who dreamed big and is now living it but still grasping at what was lost.

Then came the invites. Inviting you outside working hours for food, hanging out at his home, tagging along at Dekopin's vet appointments and anywhere else you could think of. Of course, there is definetely skepticisms and wariness with all these invites. He was a man who has his whole country watching him through the media's lenses, whether it be from reputable sources or the tabloids. For him to be seen with a woman was a sentence. Sentenced to be lump into rumors and gossips. The man of the hour and his partner. It was a headline just waiting to happen. But you reasoned with yourself. Surely they are aware that you are one of the team physicians, right? Surely they'll think it's just an appointment outside working hours, a bit unconventional but people wouldn't think you guys are together, right? Right. No one will think so. You were just a team doctor hanging out with one of your team's player, nothing more. You said in your head like a mantra, as you accept his offers to go out. Truly hoping for it to be the case.

The realization came to you on a quiet night. You didn't mind the closeness of Shohei, you didn't mind that he would come running to you whenever he sees you, in fact you enjoyed seeing him jog to you and grace you with that ever so handsome smile of his. He fills your head with mindless ramblings and chats, you think you would hate it since you have learned to value silence as your companion but you found out you didn't. His voice and presence now accompanies you too. You found that you didn't mind being linked to him. You didn't mind if your face or name will be plastered on a headline on Japanese newspapers or tabloids by tomorrow. You didn't mind people writing about you and your relationship. It really doesn't matter. What matters is if he is happy, it matters if he is comfortable with you accompanying him to whatever and wherever and well, he is happy, he is comfortable. What matters is that you love him. You have learned that Shohei has wormed his way to your heart slowly but surely and he is there to stay, taking hold of a chunk of your heart. Ready to hold his hand tightly and face the world. Courageously love and be loved.

Shohei was intrigued by you, you were young, the youngest physician he has seen on the team and yet you managed to be one of the best orthopedic in the country and landing a job at Dodgers, well he might have also been struck by your outwardly appearance and honestly he isn't shy to admit that. You are beautiful.

You are a constant presence in his training, checking up on him and the others, taking special care of him and his recent surgery. He noticed how you're a little stoic, maintaining that air of professionalism like an armor, your brilliance showing through the improved physical care of the players and everyone surely took notice of it. But you were also coy, giving him small smiles or chuckles when he finds courage to talk to you or when you're assisting him on his rehab exercises, putting slight pressure on his forearms and chest, eyes shyly meeting his. It never fails to makes his heart flutter like a teenager.

You had a strong wall built around you, from past hurt, perhaps? He doesn't know but he vowed to himself that he will do anything to break it down or climb his way up over to you. Meticulously planning everything to give his heart and to have yours.

Shohei figures that you love cute and loveable things and he thinks Dekopin could be the best wingman for the job. He was cute and loveable, the perfect tool, the perfect excuse to message you. He knows you couldn't resist and from then on he would talk and talk until you'd answer, he didn't mind waiting he knows you're busy and he knows you might not be used to it. It's okay he'll glady start the conversation if it means getting to talk to you. He's patient and he will wait until you come around. The conversations turn personal at one point and he saw a little more of you. The anxious, perfectionist that is a tad bit hard on herself. A tortured genius, if you will. He can sympathize with you in that regard, with both being young people on such peaks of successes, people from your respective fields waiting on your next moves, ready to pounce when the chance arises. It's exhausting but he figured he wouldn't mind being exhausted together.

Shohei knows he's always being watched, he knows paparazzi are lurking at corners near the stadium, near his home, and wherever places he frequents to. He admits it is a little selfish of him to invite you to his home, or wherever outside work. He knows there is a big possibility of getting caught and photographed but he couldn't give a damn. He doesn't care if people speculates about his romantic life if it is with you. He doesn't mind giving out a statement that you and him are at a stage of getting to know each other. He doesn't mind declaring to the world that he only has eyes for you. He knows he's selfish, the press might hound you and pick you apart so he's careful when inviting you out. Always at odd hours, using an unusual and discreet car, making sure to cover your face when arriving and leaving his home. Yes, he is selfish but he is not to put you in any kind of pressure and danger. He cares about you too much to be too selfish.

On a perfect breezy midnight of spring he received a call from you, asking him if he was awake. His heart quickens, mouth dries a little, he answered you "Yes", with a light waver in his voice.

"Alright, wait for me, I'm coming over."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you. Be safe."

His heart stutters in his chest, you have never called him first, never initiated on coming to his house, he was a little scared but your voice seems resolute like there is something that has to be done and he hopes deep deep in his heart that it is what he think it is.

You came knocking on his door after a few minutes and Shohei almost falls over trying to get to the door to get you. And there you were in your full glory, a little disheveled in your most comfortable sweater and sweats. The breeze caressing your hair, your skin. Shohei can't believe that he starts to get a little jealous of the way the breeze kisses you and be so upclose to you. You also take him in, in his loungewear shorts and thin sweatshirt, tousled hair and a slight pink tint to his full cheeks.

"May I come in?"

He's stunned for a little bit then clears his throat and replies, "Of course, come on in. Don't mind the mess Dekopin just destroyed another one of his toys".

As you guys shuffled inside his home, the air stills and there's an undeniable tension between the two of you. Shyly meeting each other's gaze for a minute and like magnets you draw towards each other. Timidly, you put your hands against Shohei's chest, both your hearts jumping out of your ribcages at the action.

"Is this okay?", you asked looking up at him through your eyelashes. Eyes flitting between his eyes and his lips. Shohei noticed the action and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you impossibly closer to him, he needs to feel you, he needs to feel your skin on his, your breath on his skin, your lips on his.

"Yes", he replied as he carefully places one of his hand on the back of your head. Slowly inching towards your lips.

"Is this also okay?", he asked lips almost touching yours as he spoke. You didn't waste your time and finally have your lips meet in a sweet embrace that slowly deepened into a dance of lips flitting at each other. The kiss was sweet and sensual, just like him, you think. The kiss was everything the both of you have hoped for. A kiss that says everything and a kiss that seals everything. You finally break away from each other to catch your breath, but lips still touching each other, exhanging breathes, panting on each other's lips.

"Thank you for being patient with me. I love you." You said to him, lips touching his as you speak. He gives you a long peck.

"I'll be here always waiting for you, I love you too. I love you." He utters to you sweetly, saying the last part in his native tongue. Conveying all the love he has in those words. He hopes that you can feel his sincerity, if not then he'll just have to show it to you every time until you can feel it.

Truly, spring has come and bloomed love both to you and Shohei.

A/N: I've been inspired by what the phrase "Spring has come" mean to both Korean and Japanese language ik its not yet spring but yeah I just rlly wanted to write about this. Hope you guys enjoyed it <3

[merrybloomwrites]

Cheese is a Good Thing (Larry x Reader)

Summary: Attending your first Louis Tomlinson concert doesn't exactly go as planned. A trash can full of cheese and a chance encounter on a tour bus lead to a night you'll never forget.

Content Warning: smut, threesome (m, m, f) p-in-v-sex, protected sex, light dom/sub dynamic, one night stand

Word Count: 5.2K

Authors Note: This was supposed to be a very silly oneshot inspired by me actually almost falling in a trashcan full of cheese in order to move out of Oli's way at a concert. And then the devil took over and now it's possibly the smuttiest thing I've written?

I also know that I said I was taking a hiatus from posting, but I already had this started and people expressed interest in Louis x Harry x Reader so I wanted to get one story out there. Hope you enjoy!

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“Y/N, you know I don’t like when you go to things like this by yourself.” 

You roll your eyes at your mothers voice, glad that this is just a phone call so she can’t see the gesture. 

“Mom, I’m almost 30 years old. I’m smart. I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know. Still makes me nervous. Call me when you get home okay?”

“You know you’ll be asleep before Louis even gets on stage,” you reply. If there’s one thing about your mother that’s never changed, it’s her habit of going to bed early. 

“I wish we’d set up that app on my phone so I can see where you are,” she says. 

“We did set it up,” you state. “You just don’t know how to use it.”

“Oh, that’s right. How do I find you again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again at the question, since you’ve taught her how to use Find My Friends about one hundred times.

“I’ve really got to get going, parking is going to be tough so I don’t want to be late.”

“Of course, okay. Have fun and be safe!”

“Thanks mom, I will. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“You’d better, I want to hear all about it!”

You almost laugh at that, since your mother literally has zero idea who Louis Tomlinson is, but you appreciate the effort. After a final goodbye you hang up the call. 

Before leaving, you glance in the mirror one last time to make sure everything is in order. Your hair is pulled up in a ponytail, your make up looks perfect, and your simple shorts and tank top sit just right. It’s a hot day, the middle of summer, and the last thing you want is to overheat.

The drive to the venue doesn’t take long, as it’s only a couple of towns over. It’s a smaller place, basically a big parking lot that got turned into a space for concerts. After waiting in line, you finally make your way inside to find a spot. It’s all general admission so you can choose to be anywhere.

The front right by the stage is already completely filled. You could get into the middle of the crowd, but you’d rather hang towards the back. While you do love Louis, it’s still broiling hot out and being surrounded by people doesn’t sound like a fun time.

Towards the back of the space is a large tent which seems to be the control center. Sound and lighting techs are working from there, as well as security personnel. There are metal gates around the tent, with an opening on the side for the staff to come and go.

This is where you station yourself. You’re outside the fence, just behind the opening. There’s a trash can behind you which essentially means no one will be able to press closely to you. Plus, if you lean over towards the fence you get a less obstructed view of the stage.

All in all, you think you’ve secured yourself a pretty good spot. You have a great time listening to the openers, and then Giant Rooks leaves the stage. It’s almost time for you to watch Louis perform live for the first time in your life.

There’s activity in the tent, and you see a man who looks kind of familiar walking out of it rolling some equipment. You try to move back a bit more to be out of his way, but the cart he’s moving still bumps into you.

It doesn’t hurt you, but it does cause you to lose your balance. And honestly, you have the worst coordination, and even worse luck. So it’s no surprise to you when you fall backwards and land not on the ground, but in the garbage can. 

There’s something warm and sticky, and you vaguely remember seeing lots of people eating nachos. Cheese. You’ve landed in basically a vat of cooling liquid cheese. Well, that’s unfortunate. 

“Holy shit, Are you okay? I'm so sorry.” A strongly accented and very worried sounding voice asks you from above. You look up and see the same man, now realizing that you recognize him from Louis’ documentary. It’s Oli, his best friend and manager. And he’s just sent you flying into a trash can. 

“I’m okay,” you reply, more shocked than anything. 

“Here,” he says as he thrusts his hand towards you. “Let me get you out of there.”

You place your hand in his and he helps pull you out until you’re standing in front of him. 

“Seriously, Are you okay?” He asks. You take a moment to assess if you have any injuries before reassuring him that you are not hurt. 

“I am literally covered in cheese sauce though,” you add with a laugh. 

“Shit, again I am so sorry. Here, come with me and we’ll get you cleaned up and in some new clothes.”

You decide to trust this man, though you really don’t have a reason to. Maybe your mom was right to be worried about you going to a concert alone, seeing as you’ve landed yourself in quite a predicament. 

“You can rinse off in the shower on the bus and there should probably be some clothes you can have. I can grab you a merch shirt to wear if you’d like.”

“Uhm, yea anything not coated in cheese would be perfect,” you reply. 

He leads you behind the stage and over to the buses. “I share this one with Louis and a couple guys from the band. They’re due to be getting ready with the sound techs so the bus should be empty,” Oli explains, pointing to the bus at the end. When you reach it he opens the door gesturing for you to enter first. 

As it turns out, Oli was wrong. Because the bus certainly is not empty. 

“Oh shit!” You exclaim as you process the sight in front of you before you quickly turn to face the other way. Oli walks into the bus and first notices the wide eyes on your face before looking behind you. And what he sees behind you is an image you’ll never erase from your brain. 

Because what you’d just walked in on is Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles shirtlessly making out on the couch. 

“Oli you better not have brought this girl in here to-”

“To do exactly what you and Harry were doing? Obviously not,” Oli replies. 

“Then explain why she’s here.”

“I accidentally pushed her into a garbage bin full of cheese sauce.”

You’re still facing away from them meaning they can easily see the mess on your clothes and skin. There’s a rustling sound and then Louis says, “You can turn around love, I promise we’re decent now.”

You do as instructed and see that the pair are now wearing shirts and are seated next to each other, rather than with Harry straddling Louis' lap like he was when you’d entered. 

“Did he really knock you into a trash bin?” Harry asks. 

“Yea, he was moving a cart with equipment and it bumped into me,” you explain. 

“Mate, you are an idiot,” Louis says with a laugh. 

“In his defense, it is pretty difficult to move through the crowd out there,” you clarify. 

“Well, it doesn't change the fact that you obviously came here to clean up and find new clothes, right?” Louis asks. 

“Exactly,” you answer. 

“What’s your name,” Harry asks. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you guys,” you reply. 

“I’m going to grab her one of the merch t-shirts, do you think there’s any shorts in here that’ll fit her?” Oli says. 

“I think I have something that will work,” Louis replies. 

“And bring back an NDA with you,” Harry adds. Oli just nods in understanding and walks out, closing the door behind him. 

Harry turns to you and says, “I hope you understand about the NDA. It’s not that we don’t trust you but we’ve been keeping this secret for a while. We’d really like to know that you won’t go around telling people about what you saw.”

“Oh, I totally get that,” you reply. A blush paints your cheeks as you think about what you witnessed. 

The two boys watch your reaction and share a look with each other. They seem to communicate silently for a moment before Harry takes a step towards you. 

“Did you like what you saw?” He asks. His tone isn’t judgemental, nor is it angry. In fact, it seems to be teasing, or almost hopeful. 

“I mean, I promise I looked away the second I realized. I really didn’t see anything,” you answer. 

“Would you like to?” Louis asks. 

This has your mind basically going offline. Did Louis Tomlinson really just ask if you want to see him and Harry Styles make out? Or maybe even do more than that? 

“Aw, babe, she’s blushing. I think he wants to join us,” Harry says to Louis, in a voice certainly meant to make you squirm. 

“Oh you’re right, love, she definitely wants to,” Louis replies. 

He walks forward, until he’s standing right in front of you. His hands move to cup your face and he asks, “Would it be alright if I kissed you? Wouldn’t want to leave you out of the fun.”

You nod, but he gives you a look, silently telling you to use your words. “Yes, it’s alright,” you confirm. And then his lips are on you. They’re plush, yet demanding, and in no time his tongue is breaching your lips, caressing the inside of your mouth. 

As quickly as it began, the kiss ends. It leaves you breathless and dizzy. Louis steps back and you feel like you’ll fall to the floor, except now Harry is there, his hands on your hips. After once again asking your consent, he leans in for a kiss of his own. He’s softer, gentler and yet you’re still melting in his arms after just a moment of his lips pressing against yours. 

He pulls away and moves back, giving you space. And not a moment too soon because a second later Oli is reentering the bus holding a bag. 

“Lou, everything’s ready, time to go,” he says as he hands you the bag. 

“Got it, I’ll meet you out there in a second,” Louis replies.

“You’d better,” Oli lightheartedly threatens before leaving once again. 

“Listen,” Louis begins. “You know about the two of us now. And you enjoyed what you saw earlier. And those kisses, well that’s just the start of what we can do. We're staying at a hotel here in town tonight. If you’d like to join us, the invitation is open. Think about it and tell us after the show, okay?”

You look at both of them and see their serious expressions before saying a quiet, “Okay.”

“I have to run before Oli kills me,” Louis says, tuning to kiss Harry goodbye. 

“Break a leg babe, I’ll make sure Y/N has what she needs and get her out to watch you,” Harry says. Louis exits the bus and Harry turns to you, adding, “I have a spot we can watch from, the view is perfect. But you need to not be covered in cheese. The bathrooms over here if you want to rinse off and change.”

Harry leads you to the small bathroom, shows you how to use the shower, and hands you a towel before giving you some privacy. You undress and hop in the shower, quickly rinsing off all grime from the trash can. You wrap yourself in the towel and look in the bag of clothes, realizing it’s only shirts. No bottoms. Crap. You’d gotten distracted and forgot to get a pair from Louis before he left. 

One glance at your shorts proves there’s no way to salvage them for the evening. After making sure the towel covers you enough, you open the door and poke your head out. 

“Hey Harry?” You call, hoping he’s still nearby. 

“Yea?” He answers and walks around the corner to see you. When he sees your undressed state there’s an irrefutable look of lust on his face. He quickly schools his expression and says, “Need something?”

“Uhm, Louis was supposed to grab me some shorts?” You say uncertainly. 

“Oh right! Let me get something, hold on.”

He’s back a second later handing you a pair of shorts, and you change speedily. Once you finish you start hearing Louis’ intro. You shove your dirty clothes into the bag and Harry leads you out of the bus. 

There’s a building just next to the pit that he walks into. The two of you go upstairs to a room with windows. They’re obviously tinted so no one can see in, but you guys can see literally everything from here. There’s speakers as well so the sound is perfect. 

Other people are in the room, people who must be close to Louis in some way because none of them are shocked by Harry being there. The show is amazing, Louis does a fantastic job, and you’re so enthralled you almost forget about their offer from earlier. 

Almost. 

When the show ends, the room clears out, but Harry stays there and asks you to wait with him. A few minutes later Louis enters, literally glistening in sweat. He rushes to Harry, and they meet in a dirty kiss. You audibly gulp at the sight, your body temperature rising. 

They turn to you then, and Louis asks, “Did you make a decision?”

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Harry says, and Louis nods seriously beside him. “But we’d love for you to join us if you want.”

You hesitate for a moment. This would be new territory for you. Never before had you slept with two men, let alone two famous men. 

And then you stop debating. Because really, you’d be crazy to turn down this offer. “I want to,” you reply, happy to hear how sure and confident you sound. 

“Well then, our ride is just downstairs,” Louis says and he leads you both out to a waiting car. 

The driver asks no questions as the three of you slide into the backseat. You’re squished in the middle, and highly aware of each point of contact you have with the boys on either side of you. It’s scary, but mostly, it’s exhilarating. You find yourself anxious for the ride to end, eager to get somewhere private. 

You enter the hotel through the back door and take a service elevator to the top floor. Louis’ suite is immaculate, and you’d normally be exploring every inch. But you’re not the only one antsy to get things going. 

As soon as the door latches shut, Louis is pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and his half hard cock obvious where it pushes on your bum. Harry stands in front of you,  his hand going to your face, but he doesn’t lean in. Not until Louis tells him to, and then his mouth immediately finds yours. 

You can tell there’s definitely a slight power dynamic here, and Louis seems to be in charge. Which is more than fine by you. Truthfully you’re a bit out of your depth and would love for someone to lead you here. 

It’s easy to see that Harry was holding back during the kiss earlier. There’s no more hesitance, and while he may be submissive when it comes to Louis, he definitely has a dominant side if the way he takes control of the kiss is anything to go by. 

Harry curls his tongue around yours at the same moment as Louis, now fully hard, grinds against you. The two sensations together pull a needy moan from your mouth as your body goes lax. Louis tightens his grip and Harry moves closer in order to keep you upright. 

“My turn,” Louis says and Harry immediately removes his lips and moves his hands away from your face. One of Louis’ finds your chin and he grips it lightly in order to turn your head to the side. He crashes his lips against yours and Harry’s hands start to explore your body. 

“Please,” you whimper out, unsure what you need but knowing that it’s just more. 

“Sound so pretty when you beg,” Louis says. 

“And while you do look fantastic in my husband's merch,” Harry says, “how about we get you out of it for now?”

You nod, loving the sound of getting rid of the clothes that now feel unpleasant on your sensitive and overheated skin. Harry slips your shirt over your head as Louis shimmies your shorts off, leaving you in your simple bra and panties. Both boys then remove their own shirts, and you pause a moment to take in their bare torsos. Their skin feels so smooth as you run your fingertips over their newly exposed tattoos. 

Your hands continue moving south, until they glide over both of the boys' hard cocks, causing the sweetest sounds to ring out. Emboldened by their noises of desire, you slowly sink to your knees. 

“Please,” you say again, this time clearly knowing what you want. Harry and Louis know as well, and waste no time removing the rest of their clothing. Your mouth waters at the two beautiful cocks as they’re revealed to you. While Louis is a tad longer, Harry is definitely wider. But truthfully, you have no doubt that they both would satisfy you immensely. 

You start by wrapping a hand around each of them, gripping just firm enough to give a hint of pleasure. You lean to Louis first, licking his tip before moving to do the same for Harry.  You feel them shiver in pleasure and decide to take it further. Turning back to Louis, you wrap your lips around him, moving down a couple inches until he brushes the back of your throat. You pull back slightly and begin to move up and down, using your hand for the base that doesn’t fit. 

When his moans grow louder you pull off, turning to Harry and repeating the process. Your lips stretch around him, and you feel more arousal drip into your already wet underwear. After a minute, you’re being pulled to your feet and both boys kiss you messily before maneuvering so you’re lying on your back in bed. 

“Harry, why don’t you show her how much we appreciate what she just did for us,” Louis says. Once again, Harry doesn’t think, just acts. You jolt at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit over your panties.

“Jesus, love, you’re fucking drenched. Lou, you have to see this.”

Next you feel Louis’ fingers moving along the gusset of your underwear before he says, “You’re just gushing baby. Why don’t we get this off, they’re ruined anyway, won’t do you much good.” 

You nod vigorously, wanting him to remove them and hoping he’ll do the same with your bra so you can be completely free, completely bare in front of them. You’re in luck, because as he slowly slips the material down your legs, Harry takes care of your bra for you, leaning down to wrap his lips around each breast in turn. 

“She’s ready for you,” Louis says. “Switch with me.” 

Harry does so, and he immediately begins eating you out. It starts gentle, but just for a moment. A couple kisses to your thighs quickly turns into him running his tongue along your folds and then drawing circles on your clit. 

He teases your hole more than once, but never enters which drives you wild. He continues working you up while Louis takes over playing with your breasts, kissing and placing light bites to your nipples. That’d never brought you pleasure before but mixing with what Harry’s doing, it has you seeing stars in no time at all. 

Together the two of them bring you to your first orgasm of the night. It crashes over you in waves, and leaves you moaning and thrashing on the bed. 

You try to catch your breath, but they barely give you a break before switching spots and starting the process over again. But this time Louis does more than tease your hole. His tongue breaches your entrance first before he replaces it with two fingers. 

They curl just right and he instantly finds that perfect spot inside of you. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking it in while his fingers continue their ministrations inside you. 

Meanwhile, Harry’s hands are roaming your body, leaving tingly hot sensations over every bit of skin they find. He’s also murmuring in your ear, his warm breath blowing on your neck as he says things like, “Love those pretty noises you’re making for us,” and,  “Just listen to how wet you are,” and, “Gonna be a good girl for us? Come again, all over Lou’s hand?”

The combination of those words being said in Harry’s low, gruff voice, and Louis fingers and tongue working you up just right has you hurtling into your next orgasm. You cry out again and it rolls through you, even more intense than the last one. 

“Fuck,” Harry says. “You just squirted, why didn’t you tell us you could do that? I might’ve worked harder, which you’d gushed on my face like that.”

“I didn’t- I what? I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know.” Your mind is fuzzy but you try to reply. You can’t believe that just happened. And they liked it? They weren’t grossed out?

You must’ve said that last question out loud because Louis is up by your face a moment later saying, “Not at all. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. Think you have one more in you? Can you take Harry in that perfect cunt?”

“I think so,” you reply, laying bonelessly on the bed. 

“You think? Do you want to stop here? We don’t want to push you too far,” Louis says, his voice gentler now. 

“No! I don’t want to stop. I can take it, I promise,” you reply. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but the idea of stopping before they’ve both come has you feeling almost guilty. You want them to feel the same kind of pleasure they already gave you. 

“Okay, just let us know if it’s too much and we’ll stop,” he says before stepping away for a moment. 

He comes back with two foil packets and a small bottle. He and Harry both open a packet and you watch as they each slide a condom down their lengths. 

“Lou’s gonna fuck me while I fuck this pretty pussy, does that sound good to you?” Harry says. 

“Sounds perfect,” you answer. 

You’re still laying on your back, definitely earning a pillow princess title but everyone seems to be fine with that. Harry’s hands gently grip your thighs and he pushes your legs open wide, kneeling in between to get into position. But instead of lining up with your entrance, he gets on his hands and knees. 

You realize that they’d opened you up already, but Harry needs prep too before he can take Louis. You expect Louis to finger him open, but gasp along with Harry when Louis pulls a plug out of Harry instead. You realize that’s been there all night, was probably put in shortly before you walked in on them earlier. 

The thought sends another wave of desire through you, and while a second ago you weren’t sure how much more you could take, now you're desperate to be filled. 

“You ready baby girl?” Louis asks, coming over to press another kiss to your lips. The gentle peas of his lips to yours settles you, and when he pulls away there’s a calm smile on your face and you reply, “I’m ready.”

“Okay. Harry, show our girl what you can do.”

A moment later you feel Harry’s tip at your entrance. You thought they’d opened you up before, but you must’ve underestimated Harry’s size, because you feel each second of him gently pushing inside. It’s a pleasant pain that quickly shifts to only pleasure. 

“One more thing,” Louis says before lifting your hips to slide a pillow under you. Harry moves as well, and you moan as he hits even deeper inside you. This also puts him in a better position to take Louis from behind. 

You feel, more than see, when Louis slides into Harry. He thrusts gently inside you, and leans down to bite your neck while letting out the neediest whine you’ve ever heard come from a man. It’s also possibly the hottest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. 

They fall into a rhythm, controlled by Louis, and the three of you fall speechless. The room is filled with a cacophony of moans and whimpers, as well as the noises being made by your bodies connecting over and over. 

You come first, your walls squeezing around Harry’s cock, pulling him in impossibly deeper. Your body feels almost numb, somewhat tingly, and your brain grows even fuzzier. It’s like there’s a disconnect between the two. It’s a weird feeling, but not unpleasant. 

Harry’s thrusts start to grow sloppy and he tucks his head into your neck as he comes. You feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, and his moans vibrate against your neck. Even after he’s finished, he remains inside and you can feel the way Louis is moving in him as it jostles you as well. 

Louis whines grow higher until he stills, holding himself flush to Harry before finally pulling out. Harry slides out of you as well, slowly and gently, knowing you’re probably sore after three rounds with them. 

They lay on either side of you, each wrapping and arm over your waist. After you all catch your breath Louis asks, “You okay love?”

A smile spreads on your face as you reply, “I’m so, so okay. That was amazing.”

“Glad you liked it,” Harry says. 

You continue to bask in the afterglow until Harry finally states, “We should probably get cleaned up.”

You suddenly become aware of how sticky your legs are and reply, “That’s probably a good idea. Any chance you have spare sheets?” Your mind and body are fully reconnected now and you can feel how soaked the bed is under you. 

“Better yet, there’s a second bedroom. Completely unused bed in there,” Louis informs you. 

He gets up, reaching a hand out, helping you stand as well. The three of you end up taking a shower and they gently clean you up, pressing only the gentlest kisses to any marks they left on your skin. 

After drying off you end the night in a soft, comfortable bed, Harry on one side and Louis on the other. They whisper praises, telling you how good you were, how much they enjoyed their time with you. You fall asleep feeling more satisfied than you can remember ever being before. 

Soft light filters through curtains the next morning when you wake up. Harry is still in bed, awake and scrolling on his phone. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” He asks.

“Wonderfully. How about you?”

“Best rest I;v;e had in weeks,” he answers with a soft smile. “Lou’s just getting everything ready. We need to leave in an hour to get to the next venue,” he informs you. 

“Oh, yea, I should probably be going.” No sense dragging it out anymore, now that the night is over. 

“Of course not. You can’t go until you’ve had breakfast with us. I mean, we didn’t buy you dinner before getting you into bed, the least we can do is get you some breakfast after,” he says with a laugh, his dimples showing and making you blush. “It should be here soon. We didn’t know what you’d like so we got a few options.” 

“Thanks, that’s really kind of you.” 

Harry pulls you in and you relax in his embrace until Louis pops into the room saying “Food’s here.”

You move to get out of bed and then realize that you’re not wearing anything. Louis notices your predicament and disappears again before returning with the other t-shirt Oli had gotten you the previous evening, as well as a clean pair of boxers and shorts and your own bra. He leaves again giving you privacy to get dressed, which you do quickly. 

You join them for breakfast, happy to see they've gotten pancakes, your favorite. Louis also pours you a cup of tea, making it a perfect start to the day. 

“Oh, by the way, where is your car parked?” Louis asks. 

Truthfully you’d forgotten you had a car. Had forgotten life outside this hotel exists. So you pull up your phone and look at the dropped pin you’d placed last night to remember when you’d parked. 

“It’s just a few blocks from here,” you say, showing him the screen. 

“Ok perfect, a member of my team will be here in a minute to grab your key and pick it up to bring it to the hotel.”

“Oh that’s alright, I don’t mind walking.” Though as you say it, you realize it’d be a walk of shame, which you’re not thrilled about.

“I insist. Don’t want you walking that far, especially not after last night,” he adds with a cheeky smile. You blush for the thousandth time, knowing exactly what he’s thinking about. 

Someone does come to grab your key, effectively ending the walk down memory lane. The three of you chat for a bit, the boys asking you questions about yourself before Louis shifts awkwardly and says, “I noticed the NDA in the bag when I was grabbing your shirt. I truly hate to ask but-”

“You don’t have to ask. Of course I’ll sign.”

“Thank you love, it just gives us peace of mind.”

“I’m more than happy to.” You promptly get up to grab the papers and a pen, handing it to Louis once completed. “I really enjoyed spending the night with you guys. And not just the sex, but everything else too. You really take aftercare seriously,” you say with an awkward laugh. 

“Well, we do pride ourselves on being gentlemen,” Harry replies, flashing you another dazzling smile. 

Louis receives a text a minute later and says, “They’ve got your car downstairs, and we really should be getting going.”

You all stand up and they each pull you in for a hug. 

“I think I speak for both of us when I say we really enjoyed last night,” Harry says. 

Louis adds, “Absolutely. We’re so glad you agreed to be with us.”

“Well I’m just happy falling into a trash can full of cheese actually had a good outcome.” 

They both laugh at that before each giving you one more kiss and saying goodbye. 

You drive home in a daze and spend the day just thinking about the events of the previous night. You call your mother as promised, telling her a mostly fabricated story of your night which to her knowledge, ended with you arriving home before midnight.  

And when you watch a livestream of Louis’ show that evening and hear him mention how much he loves nacho cheese, you know it’s his way of saying he’s thinking of you. 

You know you’ll remember that night for a long time, and hope they will as well.

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AN: Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you thought about this first Larry x reader story! Requests are open if there's anything you'd want to see in the future

[defilerwyrm]

So is the whole "phallo is EXTREMELY dangerous and riskier than heart surgery" shit untrue too..I really hope it is...

Oh yeah, it’s absolutely a crock of shit.

Listen, any time you go under general anesthesia is risky, and the longer you’re under, the more risks there are. So a surgery that takes 6-8 hours, no matter what it is, is going to be potentially dangerous.

But it’s important to know that a risk being present doesn’t make it LIKELY. You take at least as much risk driving to the grocery store as you would having phalloplasty—and if lightning strikes and something life-threatening DOES happen to you on the road, you’re not going to have an entire team of highly-trained, well-equipped medical personnel literally standing over you seeing to your wellbeing when it happens.

The single most important thing that gets considered when deciding if a patient needs surgery is whether the potential risks are outweighed by the benefits. I think the fact a 2020 study found that 59% of trans men were under the impression that bottom surgery is “too risky” but 97% of those who’ve had radial arm flap phalloplasty report full satisfaction with the results says a lot, don’t you? (Source)