#and getting nothing out of it but a headache

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Gonna shamelessly piggyback on the gorgeous art~

Vampire Voldemort/Tom ficlet under the cut.

Vampirism would never be Voldemort’s preferred form of existence, but needs must.

It’s unfortunate that the Ministry seized his body for examination instead of burying him – or even putting his corpse on display, he merits at least that much. But alas, when his back-up plan finally kicks in (well, the horcruxes were his initial back-up plan, but hardly the only one. One can never be too careful when it comes to ensuring one’s continued survival), he’s on an examination table surrounded by Aurors and Unspeakables. Not ideal for making his escape, especially when he’s weak and disoriented.

He manages to latch onto the nearest mage and drink enough of their blood to mount a defence and get to the exit, but being a vampire is different enough that he’s taken down before he makes it more than two steps through the door. How humiliating.

So now, here he is, tucked somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry with guards posted just out of sight, interrogated frequently on such matters as who his Death Eaters are, the extent of his crimes, what he knows (far more than these dunderheads can comprehend), and on and on. He gives them nothing, unless it doesn’t matter anymore and will just frustrate them to know. Then he provides more detail than they would ever want. Their methods of information extraction are laughable, anyway.

They only try to starve him to death once. After he rips through the wards and bars containing him and drains one of his guards dry, they don’t try it again. Now, they bring him some kind of blood in pouches once every few days. It sustains him, but that’s about all that can be said for it. He doesn’t feel hungry, per se, but too long without blood makes a headache pound behind his eyes and worsens his already irascible nature.

He’s certain he could escape this cell if he wanted to, but it’s taking him far longer to adapt to being a vampire than he had expected. His magic functions differently, his senses are heightened and inconsistent, and he’s unsure what his reaction to sunlight will be. (Or even regular indoor lighting – it’s kept quite dim in this corridor.) He’s willing to be patient and make his move when the time is right.

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

It’s during one of the Minister’s occasional visits – as though he has any respect for the position and will give up his secrets more easily – that he appreciates his intensified sense of smell for the first time.

(His guards could stand to brush up on their cleaning charms. They don’t appreciate it when he shares this knowledge with them.)

It’s enticing, the fragrance, and strong enough that it almost feels visible, wafting down the corridor from the open door. He feels himself drawn to the scent, only stopping when he hits the bars. It takes a fair bit of self-control to resist pulling them apart and pursuing the delicious smell. “Who walked by just now?”

“That isn’t of any concern to you,” Shacklebolt says flatly.

One of the Aurors snaps, “We’re asking the que–”

“Bring them here,” Voldemort commands. “Or we’ll find out exactly how well these new wards will hold up against me.”

His ability to enthral the Aurors guarding him might be limited by the amulets they wear, but the fact that it still affects them at all seems to terrify them more. One looks to the Minister, hands shaking; he races off once he gets the nod.

Shacklebolt attempts to stare him down, which would be more impressive if he’d been able to do it before Voldemort had his metaphorical wings clipped. Once he realises Voldemort has no intention of engaging in a childish staring contest, the other man chats quietly with the remaining guards.

The Auror returns, looking pale and pinched. “Er, Minister Shacklebolt…”

“Who is it?”

The Auror slides his eyes over to Voldemort before returning to meet the Minister’s gaze and shaking his head.

The look is telling. He makes an educated guess and calls out, “Harry Potter.”

After a brief pause, the tense, angry silence is shattered by the thud of footsteps rapidly approaching before the boy skids to a stop before Voldemort’s cell, panting for breath and looking horrified and enraged by what he finds.

“What the hell is he doing here–”

“Harry, wait–”

“He’s alive?!”

“Let’s go talk about this–”

“Hello again, Harry Potter,” Voldemort cuts in. “So kind of you to finally visit me.”

“How in Merlin’s name did you survive?” Potter shouts, sounding a touch hysterical.

“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” A rather transparent ploy, but the scent of the boy’s blood has his head reeling. And, well, Potter has never needed a sophisticated touch to lure him in.

Shacklebolt snarls at him and quickly raises the silencing barrier that prevents him from being heard beyond the walls of his cell. What a pity.

He says, “I’ll see you soon,” ensuring his mouth moves deliberately enough for the message to get through even if it can’t be heard. Potter’s brows furrow at him, eyes aflame, before he follows the Minister down the corridor, irately demanding to know everything.

No matter. If Shacklebolt thinks Potter won’t find a way back here, he doesn’t know the boy at all.

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

It takes four days before Potter skulks out of the shadows around Voldemort’s cell. 

Voldemort knows from the moment he enters the corridor, even if he can’t see the boy getting closer. Wild, black hair and a lumpy jumper emerge from under an invisibility cloak directly in front of his cell, just inside the sound barrier. Clever boy.

“Come now, you’re not afraid of me, are you?” he taunts. “I’m no danger to you from in here. You can step closer.”

A vampire’s power of suggestion works just as well as the Imperius does against Potter. He’d expected it, but the boy’s mental resilience remains irritating.

“Did you seriously think that would work?” Potter says incredulously.

“I have so little entertainment, I’m not in a position to be picky,” he mockingly laments. “In any case, congratulations. You’ve exceeded my admittedly low expectations of you.”

“Tosser,” the boy mutters, before demanding, “What are you doing here?”

He raises a judgemental, nonexistent eyebrow. “Well, when the Ministry offered me room and board in perpetuity for the low cost of my freedom and privacy, how could I refuse?”

If looks could kill, Potter might actually have a chance at putting him in the ground permanently. “You know that’s not what I was asking,” he snaps. “How are you here, alive?”

Voldemort observes the boy for a moment. Deep bruises under his eyes, still too skinny – no one at home to notice if he goes missing.

“I propose a trade,” he says, moving ever so slowly closer towards the bars. “I have something you want, and you have something I want. Surely we can come to a mutually satisfying agreement.”

“What could I possibly want from you?” Potter grits. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Your curiosity, Harry Potter, would put the proverbial cat to shame. You have questions.” Voldemort reaches out and wraps a hand around one of the bars. “And I have answers, if you’re willing to barter for them.”

Potter considers this, looking torn. Voldemort is confident the boy's need to know will win out. And he's correct.

“What do you want?”

“Something that I am certain will answer at least one of your questions. Come closer and you’ll find out.”

That nets him an unimpressed look. “I’m not stupid, you know,” Potter says. 

“No, you aren’t, but you are rather gullible at times,” he replies with a grin. 

“You are such a prick,” the boy says, almost wonderingly. “Fine. How are you alive? I saw you die. I checked your pulse, even.”

“You want to know how I am alive,” he says mysteriously. “How do you know that I am?”

Potter gives him a flat look. “Well, the whole walking and talking thing kind of gave it away.”

“Animate and alive are two different things,” he corrects.

“You pedantic–” the boy begins cursing, before pausing and considering the words more closely. Voldemort smiles and ensures his fangs are visible. “You’re a vampire,” Potter concludes quietly. 

“Thirty points to Gryffindor,” Voldemort mocks.

Potter is still staring at him, and he can almost see the dots connecting in the other’s mind. “What you want is the answer… You want my blood?!”

“Oh, well done, Harry Potter. We’ll make a scholar of you yet.”

“Absolutely not,” Potter says firmly. “You really must think I’m stupid, if you think I’d let you bite me.”

“Where’s your sense of fairness? I’ve answered some of your questions, but you won’t keep up your end of the bargain?”

“You want to kill me!”

“Not anymore,” he maybe-lies. He’s fairly certain the prophecy lost its relevance once he died at Hogwarts. If so, he’s not particularly fussed about what happens to the boy now.

Potter shouts, indignantly, “Like I’d believe that!”

And, well, he can’t blame Potter for his scepticism. He has spent the better part of eighteen years repeatedly attempting to kill the boy. But that’s neither here nor there.

“You made a trade with me,” he reminds the boy. “It’s hardly my fault that you failed to clarify the terms of the deal beforehand.”

“Fucking…” Potter tugs on his hair, looking frustrated. “Fine. But you’re not allowed to kill me.”

Voldemort gives him an indulgent look. “I swear.”

“I can’t believe this…” the boy mutters. “How…?”

“Give me your hand.” He’s close; he’s so close…

Looking like he’d rather be anywhere else and giving Voldemort a warning look, Potter slowly slides his left hand between the bars. Voldemort pulls the boy’s wrist towards his mouth, ignoring the wary glare boring into the side of his head, and bites down.

Finally.

He feels like he’s been starving for years – a feeling made all the more intolerable by the complete lack of hunger he’s felt since his bodily resurrection. Slaking his thirst for the first time is revelatory – if he’ll experience this transcendent feeling each time he drinks, he finally understands why vampires accept the troublesome aspects of their nature.

He drinks deep, revelling in the euphoria coursing through his veins. On the periphery of his awareness, he can hear the boy making noise, but the wards will prevent the sounds from escaping. He feels Potter’s other hand pushing at his shoulder, his face, and wonders whether he should kill the boy here and now.

But he’s not so lost in bloodlust that he forgets how disappointing the Auror was when he’d drank from her. The taste of her blood was barely different from the blood bags they give him. Perhaps, much like the scent of his blood is rare, the intoxicating taste of Potter’s blood is equally uncommon. He can survive with the blood of others, but…

Existence is so much more enjoyable with little luxuries to break up the monotony.

So he stops before the boy’s blood levels fall dangerously low. Potter will even be able to walk out of here, if a little unsteadily. If this becomes a regular thing (and he hopes it will, until he makes his escape and can steal the boy away to feed on as he pleases), he’ll have to recommend Potter bring blood replenishers.

He floats back down to earth slowly, enjoying the warm, effervescent feeling filling his body and mind. When he opens his eyes again, he sees he’s not the only one affected.

Potter is leaning heavily against the bars, left arm limply hanging from Voldemort’s grasp, and panting like he can’t catch his breath. His face is flushed – though the unflushed sections of skin are decidedly paler than usual – and his body keeps twitching. Perhaps he’d taken too much blood. Or the boy is having an adverse reaction.

Voldemort licks the bite wound to help speed the healing – can’t have his portable meal bleeding out, after all. As his tongue slides across the boy’s wrist, Potter whimpers. Needily.

Hmm.

That recontextualizes the boy’s other physical cues.

“Why Harry, did you enjoy that?” he asks, exhaling an unnecessary breath over the damp flesh of Potter’s wrist. A low, soft moan and a glassy-eyed glare are his only response.

This could be entertaining.

He passes Potter’s hand back through the bars and watches the boy straighten up on wobbly legs. 

“May I offer some assistance–”

“No!” Potter gasps, pushing away from the bars, though his hand remains firmly gripped around one to hold himself up.

“Very well. I appear to have taken more than was fair for the questions you asked, and you’re in no state to ask any more at the moment,” Voldemort says smugly. “I’ll be sure to answer a few extra queries for you next time in exchange.”

“Next time,” Potter says, a slight rasp to his voice. From the frown on his face he means it to come out angrily, but the breathiness makes it sound more like a promise.

Voldemort reaches through the bars to take the boy’s invisibility cloak from his pocket and fasten it around his neck, pulling the hood up as he says, “Yes, next time. Until then, Harry Potter.”

Potter lingers outside his cell for a minute, likely gathering himself for the walk back, before Voldemort hears his slightly unsteady steps moving away.

He starts to think of all the avenues this opens to him – and all the fun he can have while he waits for the opportune moment to leave here.

After all, Potter will be back.

[arisewanekosuki]

travelers helper AU where is the reason why S/O is oblivious to all the men liking her is because every single time she showed an interested in a hot guy. They turned out to be gay, so she’s convinced herself that all of the men are gay and possibly even dating each other. (Couples she thinks are real are Alhaitham x Kaveh Cyno x Tinari Zongli x Childe Kaeya x Venti Nuvilet x woirthslie ) and I watched their reactions to finding out that she thinks they’re all gay

Ok this idea is funny xD But to anyone who like those ships, pls don't take it as some kind of hate towards those ships or something. --------- The guys are devastated after learning you think that they are into... each other. All of them wondering where did they make a mistake? Kaveh found it ridiculous, him and Alhaitham?! He wondered if you think so because they live in the same house? But there are many people who are friends and share homes… You even invite all your friends to live in your Teapot!! He really couldn't understand from where this idea came from… Is it because they bicker so much? But it didn't make sense to him!! Kaveh was anxious… do you not see him as a man or something? He is overthinking this whole thing. At this point he is debating whenever to show you his plans of the house he wants to make for you both in future.

Alhaitham was more clam about it, analyzing from where this idea may come. It's not like he and Kaveh were affectionate to each other and he couldn't recal any moment that could make you think like that about them. He will state that, no, he is not interested in Kaveh in such way (or anyone else, both guys and girls, that are not you) And yet you still say "That's okay! I won't judge! I will support whoever you love!" At this point Alhaitham may confess his feeling to you but the problem is that there is always someone by your side…if not Aether then other guys. And the worst thing is Kaveh always appears too, making the misunderstanding even worse.

Cyno at first thought this is some kind of joke. But after seeing that you're not joking he was bewildered. Why would you think so? "You two sometimes look like parents of Collei" Parents? But when they were in Mondstadt he was sure you heard how he and Tighnari bickered who would be the 'older brother'… right? Cyno was silent. Trying to come up with something that will make you believe him that he is interested in you. Because whenever he would say that, you would be "ah Cyno! Please don't joke like that!" he would never joke about things like this... The General Mahamatra for now tries to avoid talking to Tighnari when you are close…

Tighnari only furrowed his brows. Him and Cyno? Big nope!! Just imagining that he would hear more jokes from Cyno if they were together already gives him a headache. The Forest Ranger was getting more and more irritated that you for some reason don't want to accept when he says that there is nothing between him and Cyno. So he started to approach this in different way. Thankfully Cyno already was avoiding him when you are close. So he can now start to be even bolder with his affections towards you. If you still refuse to believe that he is attracted to you, then you may expect to hear a confession soon.

Zhongli asked you if you can repeat yourself. Oh? Him and Childe together? In romantic relationship? Zhongli was thinking where this came from…Is it because he often uses Childe's mora to buy things?But that was only that… and that Childe often bothers him so they could spar. Ah. Maybe this was the reason, maybe you think that 'sparings' are something different. Humans are truly interesting. He will ask you why you think so, patiently listening to your explanation. He is amused by this.

Childe laughed, but after seeing you are not laughing he stopped and said "Wait...are you serious?" He will say that there is nothing between them, even says that he prefers girls (to hint that he likes you) but you responded with "It's okay! You don't have to hide it! I accept you and I'm sure your family will accept this as well!" You're cute…. but why don't you want to believe him?! Should he shower you with more gifts? It would be better to invite you for a date but with Aether being around it's not that easy….

Kaeya was amused, but he didn't expect that you will think that Venti is his boyfriend. One part of him wanted to joke about it but other part was worried that you will take it too seriously and he will lose his chances with you. The cavalry captain doesn't worry about it too much. He will simply tell you that you're wrong and he will continue showering you with affections.

Venti was a bit hurt by this. Were his love songs and poems dedicated to you not enough? Or maybe this is your way to tell him that you're not interested in him? He can't really understand this… he never was affectionate to anyone else like he is towards you. But after learning he is not the only one that you think is into guys, he felt relieved. At least you didn't think that he and that block head are into each other.

Neuvillette was confused by this. There are already many things that he can't understand about humans. But he was sure that you will realize that he is trying to court you… not the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide… After that for some days it was raining in Fontaine. He decided to tell Furina about it, hoping for some advice in this situation. But she only started to laugh. After she calmed down she promised to help him to clear this misunderstanding.

Wriothesley already knew how oblivious you are but he never expected that you might be this oblivious. He will say that there is nothing like this between him and the Iudex and if you still insist about that then well…if there will be a chance for you two to be alone you can expect him to kabedon you, making you look into his eyes and he won't let you go till you stop thinking that he is interested in anyone that is not you.

[bethanydelleman]

When it comes to Marianne Dashwood, I do think she performs some of her emotions, but not in an attention seeking way, more in a "this is what one does in X situation" way. She is not looking for consolation, she is trying to maximize her experience of whatever she's feeling.

When Willoughby leaves for the first time, we get this description:

Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it. But the feelings which made such composure a disgrace, left her in no danger of incurring it. She was awake the whole night, and she wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a headache, was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment; giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either. Her sensibility was potent enough!

...The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling. She played over every favourite song that she had been used to play to Willoughby, every air in which their voices had been oftenest joined, and sat at the instrument gazing on every line of music that he had written out for her, till her heart was so heavy that no farther sadness could be gained; and this nourishment of grief was every day applied. She spent whole hours at the pianoforte alternately singing and crying; her voice often totally suspended by her tears. In books too, as well as in music, she courted the misery which a contrast between the past and present was certain of giving. She read nothing but what they had been used to read together.

Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported for ever; it sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy; but these employments, to which she daily recurred, her solitary walks and silent meditations, still produced occasional effusions of sorrow as lively as ever.

She's following a bit of a script, which is amusing because she's the one who says she refuses to use trite expressions to describe her feelings because she doesn't like hackneyed phrases. Her love is gone, so she tries to be the sorrowful heroine. We might cry in the bathtub with a glass of wine or eat ice cream to Adele, but she's wandering around outdoors and crying on her piano.

Her feelings are 100% real, but like many of us, she seeks to express and feel them through cultural scripts. However, it doesn't feel like what she wants is pity or an audience, her walks are solitary, her meditations are silent. Compared to Mrs. Bennet or Mary Musgrove, who are explicitly seeking pity, Marianne is suffering visibly but not in a way that demands action from others.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 381

Brief summary: Cale meets Prince Consort Hinpa. Cale uses his skill twice on Hinpa. Cale coughs blood again.

==========

It's a blood coughing chapter again! 🩸🩸🩸 Poor Cale... 😂😂😂

Queen Tamahi's husband, Prince Consort Hinpa, was a guide of chaos. As a guide, it was his job to lead GoC believers to the holy land of GoC called the "Primordial Night." So when Cale called him a guide and mentioned Primordial Night, Hinpa ditched his weak-looking scholar appearance and attacked Cale.

Like Bishop Selissa, Hinpa let out a gray aura. He attacked Cale with a spear, but Alberu blocked it with his own white spear. Queen Tamahi and Alberu noticed that Hinpa was stronger than them though.

Remember Cale's skill, Chaotic Terror? Cale tried to use it on Hinpa to try reading his memories, but his first try failed. So Cale used DA first before using Chaotic Terror again. His second try succeeded, and Cale acquired the map to the Primordial Night.

In the past, when Cale used his Chaotic Terror skill on Bishop Selissa, there was no side effect. It was his Indestructible Shield AP that caused a side effect of blood coughing. However, this time, because Cale used Chaotic Terror twice, a new side effect appeared, which was... blood coughing again! 🤣🤣🤣

And with Hinpa about to cause a suicide explosion, Cale had no choice but to use his Shield AP. 😂😂😂 So more blood coughing? 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: *coughs up blood* Alberu: *supports Cale* Ha, this is driving me nuts. Cale: *coughs more blood* Alberu: Looks like that guy's going to explode. Cale: (Damn it!) Super Rock: Cale, that explosion seems dangerous. Glutton Shield: I'll have to work hard then? Cale: Cough-…Damn-.. cough-… it!

Alberu and Shield AP seemed so used to Cale's blood coughing now. 😂 But Alberu saying his signature "this is driving me nuts" line. 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: *notices the Sword of the Sun absorbing light* Cale: Oh. *feels impressed* Alberu: ...Why? Alberu: (Why is your expression like that?) Cale: Nothing. Cale: (I'll tell you later.) Cale: *smiles innocently* Alberu: ...Sigh. *turns away from Cale* Cale: (Why is he like that?) Cale: *frowns* Cale: (Why do I feel like he mentally cursed at me?)

Cale and Alberu's interaction though. 😂😂😂

Ending Remarks As if one side effect was not enough, we would get another side effect next chapter. 😂 But seriously, why was blood coughing the only side effect? Could we get headaches or fainting instead?

[rooksspite]

Marks of Love

Davrin x f!Rook (unnamed)

summary: after a night of too many drinks, Davrin finds Assan covered in kisses.

yes this is based off of that one meme of that girl who came home drunk and was really excited to see her cat

Davrin wakes one day with a headache and little recollection as to how he ended up in bed.

He remembers Lucanis inviting him and Rook to talk about old jobs again over a shared bottle. or 3. Honestly it could’ve been more he just couldn’t remember. After that it’s all a blur. He’s surprised he made it to bed in the first place.

With a groan he stands from his bed, wincing as he faces the open brightness of the fade. Moving sluggishly to throw on a shirt and pants before yawning and making his way to open the door of his room.

“Assan,” he calls out to the griffin sitting his usual spot. The wooden stairs creaking under his steps.

When Assan turns his head to look at him, it makes Davrin pause midstep, “what in the…”

There were specks of red dotted across Assan’s face, two on his beak, a couple on the sides of his face, even more across his forehead and the top of his head.

Davrin steps closer to get a closer look at the griffin’s face, “what happened to you buddy?” he asks softly, still struggling to fight off the last remnants of sleep. He had a number of ideas of what the marks could be, maybe the griffin snuck into the pantry to snack on berries again, or maybe he got into Emmrich’s inks.

Assan squawks as Davrin squats down to take his face in his hands, his eyes widening in realization. The spots were a very similar shade of berry red, in the shape of lips he’s grown to know all too well.

Davrin huffs out a laugh and hangs his head, “someone got some love last night.” Davrin muses, Assan only replies with a happy noise and a flap of his wings.

“Davrin,” he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up and sure enough there she is, just leaving the light house and making her way towards him. wearing the exact same shade on her lips that decorated Assan’s feathers.

“Rook,” Davrin greets, letting go of Assan’s face and standing “seems you got a bit excited to see Assan last night.”

To be fair, Rook always got excited seeing Assan, always showering him in hugs and pets whenever she walked by him. Though it seemed that alcohol released her from whatever she was holding back when it came to giving Assan affection.

“What do you- oh…” Rook pauses when she takes in the sight of Assan littered in kisses, her eyes move up to look at Davrin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees an obvious flustered look take over her features.

“Something wrong?” Davrin asks

Rook goes to speak but is cut off when the both of them hear the familiar clank of Neve’s prosthetic hitting the stone ground, “well good morning you three, have fun gossiping over your alcohol?”

Before either of them can answer, Neve takes in the scene before her and an amused smile crosses her face, “my my, just what were you two up to last night?”

Rook looks away flustered and Davrin’s confusion only grows, “what are you talking about?”

Neve smiles innocently, “nothing, I just think it’s adorable how similar you and Assan can look sometimes.”

Neve begins walking away towards the kitchen and Davrin can only furrow his eyebrows at her comment, “similar?” he turns to look down at assan again, “what are you even…” he trails off, his eyes landing on the splotches of lipstick sticking to Assan’s feathers as a look of realization crosses his face.

Suddenly he remembers drunken giggles as him and Rook leave the dining room, a cooed, “Assan!” followed by a shocked squawk and exaggerated kissing sounds.

He remembers leading Rook to her room, her turning towards him and reaching for his face, the sight of her lips moving towards him.

Slowly, Davrin reaches a hand up to his cheek, swiping at it before moving his hand back into view.

Sure enough, his fingertips were smudged with the very same berry red that covered both Assan and Rook’s lips.

“Looks like someone was also excited to see me last night.” Davrin hums with a hint of amusement.

Rook lets out a flustered laugh, her gaze still on the ground, “is it bad that I don’t even remember?”

Davrin chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step closer to room before placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. Rook lets out a surprised noise as Davrin leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

Just as quickly he pulls away, a new coat of her red lipstick smudged against his lips, “I think you ought to help us clean us you mess hmm?”

Assan squawks loudly from beside the two and Rook laughs, leaning her head against Davrin’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

[seasprincess]

Hi Rosie! I love the chemistry post you did with Stiles

I would like to request Stiles sneaking into reader's room through the window because they were sick and didn't come to school. I feel like he may just buy/bring a bunch of medicine regardless if they'll help their sickness in hopes that one of them would work and takes care of reader and gives them his company.

And as always, if something doesn't interest you it's okay not to write it! I hope you have a nice day and a good Thanksgiving if you celebrate it <3

warnings: None just fluff!!

Stiles Stilinski cares more about his girlfriend than anyone else. Even himself. Shown by the way he’s currently climbing through his girlfriend’s window even though he could get sick from even being in the same room with her.

But of course Stiles will not take ‘I don’t want you getting ill’ as a warning and will just do what he wants. Nothing out of character there.

“Now, the lady in the pharmacy was not helpful with what I should get so I just picked up a shit tone.” Stiles finally gets his body through the window. It’s not the first time he’s come through this entrance. As much as your dad likes him, he sometimes doesn’t let him in. And seeing as you’re ill there is a high chance Stiles will be turned away to let you rest. But who’s ever said rest cures illness?

Well everyone. But not the point.

You roll over and slowly start to open your eyes as you see your dorky boy friend stood there. Plastic bag in hand, full of ‘goodies’.

Stiles makes his way over to you before placing a hand on your head. Feeling the heat radiating off it onto his hand.

“Missed you in school today.” His hand slowly starts to stroke your hair as he looks at you. As pretty as you are to him you’re not looking your best right now.

You look like shit to be quite frank, but in his eyes, you’re so gorgeous. Even with your messy hair and puffy eyes.

“I woke up like an hour ago.” You say as he look at him, rubbing your eyes as he places the bag of pills on your bed before placing a soft kiss to your head.

After a couple more strokes or your cheek he removes his hand to rustle through the bag and begin taking out the different pills.

“This one is for headaches. I think. There’s a brain on it so I guessed. Then this one is for stomach-”

Stiles continues to yap on about the different pills and the different effects. And as much as you like hearing him talk, your head is pounding, stomach churning and you feel so ill that him talking about it is very much not helping.

“Stiles baby.” You place your hand on his as he stops talking. Eyes turning to you with a look in his eyes. Love. “As much as I appreciate Doctor Stiles, the best thing that can help me is cuddling you and a movie or something.”

Stiles smiles and rubs the back of his head, realising he was going overboard on the collection of different pain reliefs and other health benefits.

But that’s when he pulls out something else from the bag. A bigger packet.

“Good thing I brought the best medicine.” He says as he holds the bag of chocolate up. A smile forming on your face as he lays down next to you and hands you them.

“Thank you.” You whisper quietly before he wraps his arm around you and kisses your head, ready to watch whatever you want to.

Because he’s a good boyfriend.

a/n: I love this little ask as i was recently ill lol and happy thanksgiving! i’m thankful for dylan obrien

tags- @inlovewithdob @allydiass @mayfieldss

[alextydaisuda123]

So I decided to just sketch, why, I don't know. But then I was hit by a wave of Weirdcore on YouTube, and I realized that I wanted to draw something about the theme of my AU Weirdcore Tower. It also coincided that I had a bad headache (I passed out for 4-5 hours). And one thought came to my mind. Diseases. Yes, again, well, sorry, I just like such topics, and I also had some thoughts on this matter. Well, it's no secret that in Weirdcore Tower there are not only strange and frightening locations, but also events related to the inhabitants of this tower themselves. One of such events is diseases. These four (PM, Vigi, Noise and Noisette) can get sick. They can get sick from anything and each one will have different symptoms and consequences. But everyone has the same pain.

Pepperman

If he gets sick, expect that he will start to hide his illness at first, because he is AFRAID of getting sick. His body will start to melt like a piece of butter, his body will start to heat up and to the touch he will also be as hot as a boiling kettle. Black liquid will flow from his eyes abundantly without stopping, and he can go completely blind. Also, his arms and legs will slightly look like tangled threads due to tension and pain.

Vigilante

If you thought that because of his "ghostly" nature he will get sick less, then no. He does not like to get sick. His symptoms are as follows. His body will seem heavier than before and everything will get to the point that he can simply fall to the floor and spread out like slime. He will not be able to get up and fly and he will simply stick to the floor. And he will also have a terrible smell, like a rotten body or a moldy product. At least he will not hide that he is ill, the smell will still give him away.

Noise

Who hates being sick even more is Noise. At this moment, he is overcome by unbearable pain. Every step, every touch and every movement will bring him pain, as if he is walking on knives or being pierced non-stop by thousands of needles. It hurts him even to stand or lie down, although he does nothing. It happened that Noise tried to endure the pain and try to prolong the show, but it was unbearable and brought even more torment.

Noisette

With this poor thing, the symptoms are no better. From her mouth and under the buttons, a black liquid begins to flow non-stop, from which she will not be able to say anything. It feels like everything inside her is trying to get out. This also spoils her taste buds and sense of smell (she will find everything she eats or smells disgusting, even her own food). As for smells, she will also be irritated by the smell of the environment, which no nose can sense. At some point, she will cough up her "bloody" filler, but this happens rarely, and if she does not strain herself too much to cough up the black liquid. There will also be stages of dizziness. Well, as I said, the consequences after the disease are also unpleasant: PM will remain blind after the disease (vision will return over time), and his body temperature will still be hot; Vigi will remain with an unpleasant temporary smell; Noise will continue to experience pain, but will resume movement; Noisette will be silent for some time and smell unpleasant odors. That's how it is, phew. And yes, if anyone has a question about whether Bruno and PH can get sick, then no. In general, they are not adapted to diseases.

[calx-bdo]

. ★⋆.

𝓝ow playing :: glue song - beabadoobee

-> choi beomgyu x g/n reader (fluff, strangers to lovers)

-> no warnings

a/n : i wrote this while listening to glue song by beabadoobee and bed chem by sabrina carpenter.. i hope beomgyu is okay after his recent live 🫂

"choi yeonjun, you best have a reason why i'm being dragged to this stupid party !!!" your wrists burn from the sheer strength the raven-head is pulling you alongside with.

"look, taehyun just wanted me to bring someone. even out the numbers, y'know? besides, you're already dressed up. you're acting like you're not looking forward it!" he retorted, the pout evident in the way he's speaking, as if he's the one getting wronged. you felt heat rise to your ears. you'd hate to admit it, but he's right. you did dress your best for this party, deciding that this was your one chance to actually socialise with others around your age instead of just hunching over your desk for college work.

"well- just stop grabbing my wrists so hard!" your shoes click against the pavement, the white rocky path slowly transitioning to a gravel walkway, letting you know you're slowly approaching the house of that college boy he was so interested in..

"yeonjun! you're here! and... you are..?" taehyun's eyes lit up seeing you both at his doorway. "hi, i'm y/n! nice to meet you." you extended your hand to taehyun, but he only chuckled and pushed it down. "loosen up, this is a party. let's go in." taehyun's blue hair shone underneath the party lights, his glasses glinting under the rainbows.

once entering the house, it was clear that you were completely out of your element. the loud banging of the music was slowly driving you to a headache, with the bright lights completely blinding you. "first time?" taehyun asked, his hands slipping inside his pockets. you sighed, rearranging and smoothing your clothes over. "yeah, i'm kinda nervous." he merely smirked, "just make sure to cover your drinks."

you gave him a weak smile, but by the time you looked back, yeonjun had disappeared from your sight. you could feel your eyebrows furrowing, but you decided to not let it get to you. you slowly made your way over to a couch, sitting on it as you looked around the party. you picked up a red silo cup from the table beside you, taking huge sips of the alcoholic drink. just as you thought, nobody here looked as if they would hang out with you. with nothing else left but wait for yeonjun to finish chatting up his friends, you fished your phone out of your pocket and opened it, finger automatically opening instagram.

deciding to play a fun game of "match the account to the owner", you opened a few random accounts to match to people on the dance floor. "forever_young10", that's wonyoung.. "hynjinnnn", hwang hyunjin.. suddenly, an account caught your eye. "bamgyuuuu"? that's such a cute username. you clicked on it, not expecting the pure beauty on the page shocking you. you began opening his posts, admiring his features, and his aesthetic, his...everything, it's alluring. unconciously, you began to like each of his posts. being too engrossed in your phone, you didn't even notice the couch dip beside you, or even a head peering over your shoulder.

"you like my photos?" a deep timbre suddenly entered your ear. you shrieked a little, head whipping around to lay eyes on the most gorgeous person you've ever met. but.. hold on.. his photos?

in an almost comical fashion, your eyes darted from your phone to his face, back and forth. back and forth. holy fucking shit, user bamgyuuuu is in front of you, and catching you in the act of stalking his profile. a small smile played on his lips. "well?" you stammered a bit, blurting out whatever's on your mind. "yes, you're very pretty! i mean, they're very pretty! wait, you're also really pretty and i don't mean only yourpicturesareuglybut-" every word came out of your mouth like word vomit, and mr.gorgeous man over here clearly enjoying each and every second.

"hey, hey, calm down. you don't look too bad yourself." beomgyu's hands started fanning you, almost like a parent trying to calm their child down. he giggled, looking you up and down as you visibly panicked. in your state of fluster, you suddenly whipped your head to look at beomgyu. "wh-h-huh-what..?" heat floods your face, as you take in his own eyes staring at you like you hung the stars. "i mean, well.." beomgyu tilts his head, a small shrug on his shoulders. "you do look good. why haven't i seen you on campus?" maybe its the alcohol in your system, maybe its the low lighting, but you swear you can see blush spreading on beomgyu's cheeks.

"i mean.. thank you.." you let out an embarrassed laugh, subconciously smoothing your clothes and tidying your hair. "usually i don't come out of the dorm often. i'm too busy studying anyways." beomgyu's eyes lit up, before opening his pink plush lips and suggesting the best idea you've heard in a while. in the whole time you've been in the college, actually.

"let me take you out for ice cream?"

──── ୨ৎ ────

3 months. 3 months of freuqent dates (not dates but you really really wish they were) and 3 months of this repetitive situationship. you were sick and tired, and currently screaming into your pillow as yeonjun looks at you with the most amount of exasperation you had ever seen possible on a human face. "dude, JUST CONFESS. IT'S SO OBVIOUS HE LIKES YOU!!" his arms swung up, clearly tired of all the constant back and forth 'flirting-but-not-really-flirting' you two had with each other.

"IT'S NOT THAT EASY!" you yelled back, throwing the pillow directly at his face. qith a thud, you laid down on your dorm bed as you looked at the ceiling. "there's a chance he doesn't even like me! have you seen how flirty he gets??" you kicked your feet, akin to a child throwing a tantrum. "oh my god..." yeonjun trailed off, a deep sigh leaving his mouth. "he waited outside in the rain for 50 minutes because your stupid ass left your water bottle inside the BIGGEST lecture hall in the college. FIFTY MINUTES. FIFTY!!! HE HAS NEVER DONE THAT WITH ANYONE BEFORE and i KNOW for a fact if he hadn't liked you he would've ghosted you by now." yeonjun threw the pillow back, narrowly missing hitting your face directly.

"i knoww!!! but there's always.." you trailed off, eye catching onto the blinking signboard across the road. on the mall beside your dorm, there was a repeated flickering of a light. a haunted house was flickering on the sign. you blinked a couple of times, before finally jumping up and yelling, "i know what i'll do!" yeonjun slumped back against the chair, looking at you through his eyelashes. he rubbed his temple a bit, before sighing. "please don't tell me you're going to invite beomgyu to the haunted house and then make him scared shitless and accidentally confess to you." he deadpanned, looking at you with a slight frown.

"i hang out with you too much." you sneered, before picking your phone up and opening beomgyu's chat.

You:

gyu theres a new haunted house opposite my dorm

do u wanna come

only if u want to ofc

gyummy bear <33:

duh obv

gonna be ez for me cus im a goat

i dont get scared easily

You:

i hope u piss ur pants in front of the actors

im so fr

i rlly hope u do

praying on my lucky stars

gyummy bear <33:

if i pee its gonna be on YOU

watch out.

Stay cautious. Be on high alert.

Pay attention to the ominous bell tolling.

You:

???

ON ME???

that's called a kink Weirdo

ykw its fine i'll go w yeonjun instead

gyummy bear <33:

do NOT go with tyat STINKY BASTARD

i dislike him greatly

i'll go w u

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

You:

SHUT THR FUKCK UP

you threw your phone onto the bed, hugging the pillow lightly. the scenario was already playing out in your head: the actors would scare beomgyu, but you, being brave, would protect him. beomgyu clings onto your arm, eyes shutting tight as he hurriedly rambles, "if i die i need to tell you this, i liked you ever since i met you and i really, really wanna be your boyfriend.. oh my god this is so scary.. if we get out of this alive please date me!!" his clutch on your arm gets tighter-

your face meets with a pillow, courtesy of the redhead in your room.

──── ୨ৎ ────

"this is it. are you ready to go in?"

you and beomgyu both stood at the entrance of the haunted house, looking at the .. ominous writings on the wall. the red calligraphy along with the truly graphic images frighten the ever-living shit out of you, but beomgyu remains unfazed, laid-back even, with his hands in his pockets.

"welcome! is it only the two of you?" the receptionist in front smiles and picks up a clipboard, her positive demeanor sticking out like a sore thumb against the gloomy atmosphere of the place. "yes, only the two of us." beomgyu affirmed, nodding his head. "there is a couple discount, so i'll sign you both up for it, yes?" her smile moves from "capitalist" to mischevious, the sly glint in her eyes akin to a fox.

at the mention of "couple", both beomgyu and you flushed a little, standing still like a deer caught in headlines. "i'll take that as a yes.." she giggled, the pen quickly writing down onto the clipboard. "well then, luckily there is actually a queue reserved for two people, and it is currently empty. you guys can go ahead and wait by the door on the right!" with a small smile, she'd usher the both of you to a door before leaving. you huffed a little, mind still reeling at the thought of you two being a couple.. "hey, are you ready to go in? or are you too much of a pussy-" your eye twitched, choosing to push beomgyu into the door and leave him to his own devices.

that sneaky little rat grabbed your arm and pulled you in..!

──── ୨ৎ ────

"gyu !! gyuuuu !!! slow down!!!" you tugged hurriedly on his jacket sleeve, pulling for him to at least give you a minute to take in all the horrors. "i thought you'd say i'd pee my pants?" he said with a teasing lilt in his voice, shit-eating grin already present on his face. "screw you.." you mumbled under your breath, but your hold on gyu's arm did not loosen up one bit. he patted your head and went into the last room, with you automatically following like a lost puppy.

out of the blue, a ghostly figure jumped at you, its face marred and disfigured. the stench of blood permeated the air, and the fog in the room made you want to rethink your live choices. you shrieked, hugging- almost crushing beomgyu's arm in your grasp. before you could even control yourself, words and confessions tumbled out of your mouth.

"if i die, i need to tell you this!!! i liked you ever since i met you and i really, REALLY wanna be yours.. oh my god this is so scary!!!! if we get out of this alive please date me...!!!!" you shook your head as you whined wantonly, fear and terror digging its claws into you. seeing your pale face, beomgyu pulled his arm from your hug and opted to tighten it around your waist instead, pulling you both into a position where your head was directly onto his chest.

despite his nonchalant behaviour, you can hear the way his heart pounded after your confession, and the deep red on his ears is not a trick of the light. you blushed slightly too, knowing that his state of fluster is from you, and only you. once you both made it out of the haunted house in one piece (thankfully), beomgyu didn't.. pull you apart from him..?

instead, beomgyu looked down at your face, and tilted his head, smirking.

"was the ice cream THAT good?"

──── ୨ৎ ────

"i still can't believe you slapped me after that." beomgyu whined, pouting on the couch of your dorm.

"gyu, i had my most vulnerable moment exposed to you, and you managed to completely ruin the atmosphere!"

"the atmosphere was already ruined once you made such a rushed confession!"

you flushed, remembering the sheer embarrassment you felt when you had confessed to not only beomgyu, but also to the other five scare actors in the room. beomgyu stood up, and walked over to your bedside.

he placed a soft kiss onto your lips, his plush ones feeling your own. he grabbed your chin lightly, pushing your foreheads together.

"you're so cute when you're embarrassed."

you threw your pillow at him.

──── ୨ৎ ────

@studiogyu @daddldee . ★⋆.

[solo6677]

The MRI

A man goes for an MRI, but he doesn't come back the same way.

David McDowell was your average 49 year old male.He was married to a lovely woman named Rachel. They had been married for 20 years now, and things were going well, but still could be better. They had two lovely kids, the oldest Amanda was in her first year in college, and their youngest daughter, Emma, who was a mini clone of Rachel,was at home with them when not in kindergarten.

Unfortunately, David was having health issues. Headaches, dizziness, even sensitivity to light started about a month ago .He started seeing a neurologist Dr. Marcus Mitchel who suggested he get an MRI done at the local hospital that his practice was in.

On the morning of his MRI, his lovely wife came to him."You're sure you don't want me to come with you?" Rachel asked, her deep brown eyes filled with concern as she clutched her husband's hand.

"I'll be fine, sweetie," David reassured her with a forced smile, his thumb stroking the back of her palm. "It's just an MRI. Nothing to worry about. Besides, you know how much I hate making you miss work for these appointments."He kissed her on the cheek and gave their daughter, Emma, a gentle pat on the back. "You go have a nice day at school, and be good for your mother later. I love you both?" David then kissed his wife and left, grabbing the keys to the minivan. He hopped in his minivan and started the trek on his way to the hospital.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, the usual traffic noise a stark contrast to the silence in the vehicle.He was happy that Rachel had offered to accompany him, but David knew she had a big presentation at work, so he insisted on going alone. He pulled into the hospital's parking garage and took the ticket from the machine, feeling a slight tremble in his hand. It had been years since his last MRI, and the thought of being in that confined space was never a comforting one.

Once inside, David asked an older security guard how to get to the neurology department.The guard told him to follow the sterile smell of antiseptic and the hum of machinery echoing in the hallways. David thanked him and made his way down the hall. He approached the receptionist, who looked up from her computer with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was older than David, with graying hair, and deep, dark, blue eyes. "David McDowell?" she asked, scanning her list. "Yes," he replied, handing over his driver's license and insurance cards. She took them and began the registration process, her fingers clacking away at the keyboard. After she was done processing David, he was sent back out to the waiting room.

As he waited, David couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his stomach. The waiting room was filled with the usual assortment of patients, some reading magazines, others staring at the floor ,and of course the one's always on their cell phones playing some kind of game or watching a website. A TV played a muted soap opera, the subtitles flashing in time with the actors' exaggerated expressions. The doctor's office had always been a place of dread for him, but this time it felt different. The air was heavier, charged with something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Finally, a young long haired blond and very attractive nurse called his name and led him to the changing area. "You can leave your clothes and belongings in this locker," she said, pointing to a metal compartment with a combination lock. "Strip down to your underwear and put on these two gowns, one in the front and one in the back."

David nodded and did as instructed, feeling a strange vulnerability as he stripped down to his boxers. The nurse,whose name tag read Amanda, handed him the hospital garments, which were cold and slightly damp. He shivered as he put them on, his body feeling exposed despite the layers. She took his locker key and locked away his clothes, wallet and phone, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"You can follow me," she said, leading him down a hallway lined with closed doors. David nodded, his mind racing. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the fluorescent lights above buzzed annoyingly in his ears. The nurse didn't seem to notice his discomfort, her steps quick and efficient as she led him to a room with a large, cylindrical machine. The MRI. There, a female technician took over, one with long brown hair and glasses.

“My name is Miranda. I'll be your technician.”she then continued "Just lie down on the table, and we'll get you all set up," she instructed, her voice distant and professional.

David did as he was told, the coolness of the tabletop sending a shiver down his spine. The technician slid a plastic cushion under his head and placed a pair of headphones over his ears. "These will help with the noise," she explained, her voice now muffled. "The MRI is going to take about 40 minutes. Try to stay as still as you can."

With a gentle push, she sent the table sliding into the machine. The space was smaller than he remembered, the walls seemingly closer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The headphones played a soothing melody, but it did little to ease the tension in his body. He closed his eyes and focused on the music, willing the time to pass quickly.

As the MRI began to whirl around him, David felt a strange sensation, like a warm current flowing through his veins. His headaches and dizziness from earlier faded away, replaced by a sudden lightness, as if gravity had lessened its hold on him. He thought it was just the relief of being off his feet, but then he noticed something peculiar. His skin felt smoother, his body more pliant. He tried to ignore it, attributing the changes to his nerves and the anticipation of the procedure's end.

The music grew louder in his ears, and a voice began to speak over it, calm and hypnotic. "You are relaxing," the voice intoned. "Your body is changing, adapting to a new form." David's eyes were closed, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn't aware of anything happening to him. The voice from the headphones was insistent, soothing him into a state of calm.

As the minutes ticked by, the changes grew more pronounced unknown to David. His muscles softening and his frame becoming more delicate. His face grew fuller, his cheekbones more prominent, and his eyes... his eyes had changed color. They were no longer the familiar blue-gray but a deep, vibrant green. As he lay there, nice and comfortable long, silky hair started to sprout from his head to his shoulders. It was brown, not the graying blond he had seen in the mirror that morning.

The voice in the headphones grew more intimate, whispering sweet nothings and gentle suggestions that seemed to seep into his very soul. "You are becoming more beautiful with every moment," it crooned. "Your transformation is almost complete. You are no longer David McDowell. You are now a woman, a woman named Danielle Masters.You will be a very sexual woman. You will know how to give blowjobs and do cunnilingus.” The voice continued,”You are being created to be the perfect mate for Dr. Marcus. He is excited to meet the new you. After your transformation, you will drive your new vehicle to go visit him and become his lover.”

The words resonated within him, and David felt his identity slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing to resist. His mind grappled with the impossibility of it all, but his body was telling him a different story. He was now Danielle, and he could feel the soft curves of her breasts pressing against the fabric of the hospital gown. He felt a strange yearning, a longing for something he could not quite understand.

The MRI's mechanical noises grew louder, drowning out the voice in his headphones, and Danielle squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make sense of the tumultuous emotions that flooded her now feminine body. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but there was an underlying thread of something... something that felt almost like excitement. The machine's rhythmic humming seemed to match the pounding of her heart, which now felt like it was in the chest of someone else entirely.

The technician's voice called out over the intercom, "Okay, Danielle, we're almost done. Just hold still for a few more minutes."

Danielle's eyes shot open in shock. The voice had called her Danielle. The name echoed in his transformed mind, and she realized that her thoughts had shifted to the feminine pronoun. The changes were real. The person in the machine was no longer David. The panic grew to a crescendo, and he wanted to scream, to protest, but the sound that came out was a soft, feminine gasp. The realization hit him like a wave, and he felt a strange mix of horror and fascination at his new reality.

The MRI's cacophony grew louder still, and Danielle could feel his body continuing to morph. His skin grew more sensitive, his hips widened, and his legs grew longer, the hair on them now soft and fine. The gowns clung to his new figure, and he felt a sudden, intense awareness of his surroundings. The cool air of the room brushed against his skin, and the scent of antiseptic grew stronger, almost sweet.

When the MRI finally stopped the technician slid the table out of the machine. "Great, Danielle," she said, her tone unchanged. "You can sit up now." The technician then left the room.

Danielle, still trying to process the rapid transformation, did as she was told. He... no, she looked down at her body, taking in the unfamiliar curves and the softness of her now-smaller hands. She had become a stunning brunette with long brown hair and green eyes. Her legs were shapely and slender, and she could feel the softness of the gown brushing against them as she swung them over the side of the table.

Her thoughts grew more and more disjointed, but a new sensation began to take over. A warmth grew between her legs, and she realized with a start that she was becoming aroused. It was as if her body was responding to a primal instinct she had never felt before. The voice from the MRI echoed in her mind, whispering sweet nothings about her newfound beauty and her purpose as the doctor's lover.

Another nurse, a young, attractive brunette, came into the room with a smile. "How are you feeling, Danielle?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Danielle looked up at her, the fog in her mind momentarily lifting. The voice from the MRI had said she was beautiful, and now she saw the truth in those words reflected in the nurse's gaze. The thoughts that had been building in her mind, the ones she had tried so hard to push away, came flooding back. She felt a strange, insatiable hunger for the woman before her. The nurse's name tag read 'Samantha', and she, with the technician, seemed to be the only one who knew the truth of Danielle's transformation.

With a grace that surprised even her, Danielle slid off the table, her legs trembling slightly as she found her balance in this new form. She took a tentative step towards Samantha, the soft fabric of the hospital gowns swishing around her ankles. She felt a strange power in her movements, a seductive allure that seemed to be as much a part of her as her new breasts and narrow waist.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice now a sultry purr. "Thank you for everything."

Samantha, the nurse, cocked an eyebrow, her smile frozen in place as she took in the sight before her. Danielle had moved closer, her eyes dark with desire. The transformation was complete, and the voice from the MRI had not just changed her body but her mind as well. The thoughts that had been planted grew like wildfire, and she couldn't help but act on them. She had become the doctor's lover, and she craved the touch of another.

Her knees hit the cold floor with a soft thud, and she reached for the hem of Samantha's scrub pants. The nurse gasped, her eyes widening, but she didn't pull away. Danielle could see the curiosity in her gaze, the hunger she hadn't noticed before. With trembling hands, she untied the drawstring, revealing a pair of simple, white cotton panties beneath. The fabric was already damp, and Danielle's heart raced with excitement.

"Thank you," she murmured again, her voice thick with need. She slid the fabric aside, exposing Samantha's pink, glistening folds. The scent of arousal filled the air, and Danielle felt a thrill of power. She had never felt like this before, never knew she could make someone else feel like this. She leaned in, her tongue darting out to taste the sweetness that awaited her.

Samantha's gasp turned into a moan as Danielle's tongue touched her clit, light as a feather at first, and then with increasing pressure. The nurse's thighs trembled, and she had to lean against the MRI for support. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice strained, but she didn't push Danielle away.

"I just thought this is what you would want after I came out," Danielle murmured, her eyes meeting Samantha's with a knowing look. The words were a heady mix of innocence and seduction, and Samantha found herself lost in the depths of the new woman's gaze. Her body responded on its own, her hips rocking slightly as Danielle's tongue danced over her most sensitive spot. The room around them faded away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the occasional beep of the machine.

Danielle's hands gripped Samantha's hips, pulling her closer as she explored the nurse's body with a hunger that was both surprising and exhilarating. Rachel's gentle touch was a distant memory, replaced by this insatiable need to give and receive pleasure. She felt a wetness growing between her own legs, the fabric of the gowns clinging to her new curves as her arousal grew.

Samantha's breath grew ragged, her eyes glazed with passion as she watched Danielle's beautiful, full lips tease and suck at her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn't help but push down on the back of Danielle's head, urging her deeper. The MRI room was no longer cold and sterile; it had become a sanctuary of desire.

Danielle felt a thrill at Samantha's response, her own arousal building as she tasted the nurse's sweetness. Her movements grew bolder, her tongue flicking and circling with increasing speed. She could feel Samantha's muscles tensing, her moans growing louder. And then, with a sharp gasp, the nurse's body convulsed, and she came hard, her juices flooding Danielle's mouth.

With trembling hands, Samantha helped Danielle to her feet, her cheeks flushed with desire. "I... I don't know what came over me," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Samantha simply smiled, a knowing smile that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand secrets. "It's okay," she said, her voice still breathless. "It's all part of the change."

With Samantha's shaky hands, they helped each other clean up, the nurse's eyes never leaving Danielle's transformed face. The MRI had done more than just reveal the workings of his... no, her body. It had changed the very fabric of her existence. As Samantha handed her the locker key, Danielle took it, feeling the cold metal slip into her delicate, new hands.

Her heart racing, Danielle returned to the dressing room, the echoes of their shared passion still resonating through her body. As she opened the locker, she found her clothes neatly folded, her purse exactly where she had left it. The sight of her dress, bra, and panties brought a rush of relief, a hint of normalcy in this bizarre situation. She slipped off the hospital gowns, her new, soft skin brushing against the cool air. The fabric of her underwear felt foreign yet familiar, as if it had been made just for her.

She took time to finally look at herself in the mirror, her breasts nice and full, her pussy shaved. She was gorgeous, and she couldn't wait to discover her body and what her new life would entail.

She then dressed, her movements were more graceful than she had ever known, her new body fitting into the clothing with an ease that seemed almost preordained. She pulled the dress over her head, feeling the fabric hug her curves in a way that clothes never had. Looking again into the mirror, she saw Danielle Masters staring back at her, the name that had been whispered into her mind now a stark reality. The ID in her purse confirmed it, a name she had never chosen but one that now felt as much a part of her as her new, emerald-green eyes.

With a deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway, her heels clicking against the cold tile floor. The security guard looked up, his eyes widening as they took in her transformed body. "Excuse me, miss, do you need a... a parking pass?" he stuttered, his gaze lingering on her chest, where her breasts swelled invitingly.

Danielle couldn't help but smile at his reaction, feeling a thrill of power at the way his eyes devoured her. "No, thank you," she replied sweetly, her voice dripping with a newfound femininity. "I already have one." She pulled the crumpled ticket from her purse and held it up for him to see, her fingers brushing over the soft fabric of her dress. "It's been taken care of."

The security guard nodded, his eyes still glued to her, unable to look away.With a final wink, Danielle turned and sashayed away, her hips swinging with a newfound allure. She walked through the hospital's bustling halls, her heart racing as she felt the eyes of every person she passed. The power of her femininity was intoxicating, and she reveled in the attention.

When she reached the parking garage, she was momentarily disoriented. The rows of cars stretched out before her, a sea of steel and glass. The minivan was nowhere in sight. Instead, her eyes fell upon a sleek red Mazda Miata, parked under a flickering light. A wave of confusion washed over her, followed by a sudden rush of memory. It was her car, the one her boyfriend had bought her for her birthday, a symbol of his love and their secret affair.

Her hand trembled as she reached into her purse and pulled out the key fob. She clicked the button, and the Miata's headlights flashed in response, beckoning her like a lover in the night. The leather seats were cool against her bare thighs as she slid in, the smell of him still lingering faintly. Danielle took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. David was a thing of the past now. She was Danielle, and she had a new life to live.

The engine roared to life, the vibration of the powerful engine sending a thrill through her. She had never driven a stick shift before, but somehow, it felt natural in this new body. The gears clicked into place as she shifted, the car responding to her touch as if it had been made for her. She pulled out of the parking spot and headed towards the exit, the tension in her shoulders gradually easing with each passing second.

Her thoughts were a jumble of emotions: fear, excitement, confusion, and a burning desire that consumed her. Rachel's love for her seemed a distant memory, replaced by the passion that surged through her veins at the thought of her boyfriend. Danielle knew she had to see him, to feel his arms around her, to make sense of this new reality. The city streets blurred by as she drove, the wind playing with her long brown hair.

When she arrived at his apartment, her heart raced with anticipation. She had never felt so alive, so... so female. The door swung open before she could knock, and there he was, Dr. Marcus, a 6 foot 4 black male in his late 40's. "Danielle?" he questioned his excitement evident.

"Hi," she breathed, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. She stepped inside, the warmth of the room enveloping her in a comforting embrace. The doctor's eyes roved over her, taking in every inch of her transformed body. His gaze was intense, hungry, and for a moment, Danielle felt a thrill of fear. But then he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of her jaw, and she knew that she was where she belonged.

The doctor's touch was gentle yet firm, sending electric currents through her body. "I've missed you," he murmured, pulling her into an embrace. The scent of his cologne, something she had never noticed before, now filled her nose, making her head swim with desire. Danielle melted into his arms, feeling the strength of his body against her own. She had never felt so small, so delicate, and it was a heady sensation.

As they kissed, Danielle felt herself falling into a whirlpool of emotions. Rachel's love was a fading memory, replaced by the heat and passion of Dr. Marcus's touch. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and angle, as if trying to memorize every inch of her new form. The voice from the MRI whispered in her ear, reminding her of her purpose, and she responded eagerly, her own hands sliding under his lab coat to caress the firm planes of his chest.

They stumbled into the living room, their kisses growing more urgent with each passing second. Danielle felt the couch at the back of her legs and pushed him down, straddling him as he lay back. The fabric of her dress hiked up, revealing the tops of her thighs, and Marcus's gaze grew darker with desire. She reached behind her to unzip the dress, letting it fall in a pool of silk around her. His eyes widened at the sight of her, his hands reaching up to cup her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms.

Their kisses grew deeper, their tongues dancing together as they explored each other's mouths. Danielle felt his arousal pressing against her, and she ground her hips into him, feeling his hardness through his pants. The doctor's hands roamed her body, his touch electric, making her skin tingle and her nipples peak. She reached for his zipper, her own breath coming in short gasps.

With a swift motion, she freed him, his huge erection springing forth, thick and demanding. She took him in her hand, marveling at the feel of him, so different from her own body. The head was hot and velvety, and she could feel the pulse of his desire as she stroked him gently. He groaned into her mouth, his hips bucking up to meet her hand. The power she had over him was exhilarating, and she knew that she wanted more.

Danielle slid down his body, her breasts brushing against his chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She took him into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his, and felt him stiffen even further at the warm, wet embrace. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around his shaft. She could feel him getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in harsh pants, and she knew that she had him right where she wanted him.

Suddenly, she pulled away, leaving him gasping, his eyes glazed with passion. "Take me to your bed," she demanded, her voice firm yet soft. The doctor's eyes widened at her command, but he complied without a word. They stumbled into his bedroom, the air thick with desire. He pushed her down onto the bed, his body covering hers as he kissed her again, his hands exploring her new body with an urgency that was almost overwhelming.

Danielle could feel herself growing wet, her arousal coating her thighs and the fabric of her panties. She reached down and slid them off, her legs parting invitingly. Marcus looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and between her breasts, his tongue tracing the curve of her cleavage.

Her body arched up to meet his, her hips bucking against his, searching for release. He took his time, teasing her with his kisses and nips, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel the heat building within her, the pressure growing unbearable. "Please," she gasped, her voice a desperate whimper.

He took mercy on her, his hand sliding between her legs to find her clit. He stroked her gently at first, the pad of his thumb circling the sensitive bud. Danielle's breath hitched in her throat, and she clutched at the bedsheets, her body writhing under his touch. The voice from the MRI whispered encouragement in her ear, urging her to give in to her newfound desires. She could feel the walls of her pussy clenching, begging for more.

With a growl, Marcus pulled away from her, his eyes smoldering with passion. He stood up, his erection still standing proud, and began to undress. Danielle watched him, her eyes devouring every inch of his bare skin as it was revealed. He was more muscular than she had ever imagined, his chest hairless and defined. The sight of his huge black cock made her even wetter, and she couldn't wait to feel him inside her.

The doctor took a moment to appreciate her new form, his gaze lingering on her swollen breasts and the dampness between her legs. Then, with a predatory grace, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs. He leaned down to kiss her again, his hand sliding down to tease her opening with a single finger. Danielle moaned into his mouth, her hips bucking up to meet his touch.

With a gentle push, he slid his finger inside her, feeling her tightness grip him. She was so wet, so ready for him. He added a second finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. Danielle's moans grew louder, her body shuddering with pleasure. She had never felt so alive, so full of need. It was like she had been born for this moment, to be with him.

The doctor's thumb found her clit again, rubbing in a slow, steady rhythm that had her back arching off the bed. He watched her face contort with pleasure, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch. He could feel his control slipping, the need to claim her, to make her his own, growing stronger with every passing second.

With a final, gentle kiss, he positioned himself at her entrance, his cock poised to invade her tight, wet warmth. Danielle's eyes were half-closed, her breathing shallow as she awaited his next move. She felt the tip of his cock press against her, the anticipation making her entire body quiver. And then, with a powerful thrust, he was inside her.

Her gasp was muffled by his mouth, their tongues tangling as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that had her toes curling with every stroke. She had never felt anything like this before, the sensation of being filled, the friction of his body against hers.

The voice in her head grew quieter, the hypnotic suggestions from the MRI fading into the background as the reality of her new life took precedence. David was truly gone, and in her place was Danielle, a woman who craved this kind of passion, who reveled in the feeling of being taken by the man she loved. The doctor's hands gripped her hips, his movements growing more urgent as he drove into her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Danielle's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, she threw her head back, her long brown hair cascading over the pillow, as she reached the peak of her climax. The doctor groaned, his body tensing as he followed her over the edge, filling her with his warmth.

Afterwards, they lay tangled in the sheets, the scent of their passion heavy in the air. Marcus pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist. Danielle felt a strange comfort in his embrace, as if she had always belonged there. They didn't speak, the silence between them filled with the unspoken understanding of what had just occurred.

Life moved quickly for Danielle, the days blurring together in a whirlwind of passion and excitement. Marcus had been a doting lover, showering her with gifts and affection. His apartment had become her sanctuary. Each touch, each whispered promise, cemented her role as his trophy girlfriend.

Marcus had introduced her to his luxurious world, a stark contrast to her former life with Rachel. They attended glamorous parties, dined at exclusive restaurants, and shopped at high-end boutiques where the saleswomen treated her with envy and deference. Danielle had never felt so desired, so alive.

Then one night, Marcus took Danielle to the most exclusive restaurant in town. After the most expensive dinner Danielle had ever had, Marcus got down on one knee and proposed. Danielle, with tears in her eyes, accepted. They were married 6 months later.

[jellyskink]

The Doc is OUT (For the day.)

"Callie I'm home! And I got you a treeaattt~!"

Irene's voice rang through her studio apartment with a mix of excitement and weariness. She was finally done with work for the day, seeing her child was what she was looking forward to the most after today.

(Hm... I don't see her waiting for me at the door as usual, where could she be?)

Unceremoniously kicking off her shoes next to door, she tosses her jacket onto her sofa, after which she follows suit onto.

Today was just like any other, day in and day out from the medical office. The same car troubles, the same usual bickering with Mr. Ibis, the same dang stress of worrying how soon the world as she knew it was going to end, but on top of it all off, she had another appointment with Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines that day.

(I just don't get that guy. Nothing about his lifestyle or even state of being makes sense! This is the first time in my entire career I can't figure out SOME kind of pattern with my patient.)

Dr. Pine's entire situation confused her, and the cherry on top was that his medical records were just as confusing and a mess to figure out.

(I just don't get it, there's such a wide gap of time between any kind of medical logs that have information on Dr.Pines. It's almost like he went MISSING for a while in his life.)

Thinking about this all really made her headache worse. Her hands reached up to her temples as she began to massage them gently. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

Irene found herself sighing loudly as an adorably unearthly meow rang in her ear and she felt an otherworldly ball of fur lay on her head.

"mRrowww..."

"Daww hello my little angel! I missed you so much!"

Her hands immediately went from her own to the incomprehensiblely adorable ball of fur that gave her so much reason in her life. She was her baby, her adorable little cat Calamari.

Calamari happily purred in response to Irene's affection. Irene knew she was a walking trope of a lonely cat lady who treated her cat like her own flesh and blood, but she didn't care. Calamari was really the only family she had right now, and the foolish trope was one that was lame anyway.

"Guess what? I got you a treat while I was out today! It's your favorite! A tuna flavored cat biscuit!"

Reaching into her pocket, Irene revealed the cat biscuit to her fluffy friend. Before she had the chance to unwrap it, she felt it dematerialize from her hand like it was going out of style.

"Haha! I knew you'd love it! You're so cute!!"

Alright so Callie rarely ate with her mouth and preferred to absorb most food items into her third eye. It wasn't normal but it was very much still adorable! Even if staring into said eye for too long made you space out and question life for twenty minutes.

Calamari happily rubbed her head onto Irene's hand after finishing her treat.

(I know there isn't a ton of reliable studies that show animals such as cats can thank people, but Callie's a smart kitty, I'm sure she knows how! It definitely wouldn't be the weirdest thing she could do. Hmm, it is getting pretty late now, I should probably get dinner taken care of, I'm pretty hungry right now myself.)

With a sigh and movements as graceful as she could, she picked up Calamari and cradled her as she reached for her phone and opened up her flipphone.

(I... really don't feel like cooking today. You know what? I'm going to splurge and get takeout tonight.

But what? Chinese? No I need to watch my sodium intake... Spaghetti Bolognese from that one Italian restaurant a couple blocks down? Tempting as that is one of my favorite foods, and the owner does owe me a couple of favors themselves, but then again I get that a lot, I don't want to get tired of it by accident...)

Calamari flopped around in her arms playfully as she contemplated what she wanted to eat.

(Ah of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner! Pizza! It isn't the healthiest choice either, but I could seriously go for it right now! Now where did I put that one pizza place's number...)

After what felt like eternity waiting for her pizza delivery order, Irene heard a knock on the door as she opened it. The pizza she ordered placed politely on top of her cat shaped doormat, looking as much as a treasure as an ancient relic in the moment.

(Gotta say I'm glad I'm able to pay by card for this... I'm really not in the mood to talk right now to anyone.)

Happily taking the pizza into her home, Irene flopped down onto her couch, Calamari immediately following suit.

The pizza was as delectable as ambrosia in that moment. The crust was perfectly golden brown and spiced with italian seasoning, the sauce was the perfect balance of sweet and savory, spiced to perfection, and the cheese and pepperoni on top was the perfect way to end the wonderful layers of the pizza pie. And was that basil added on top? It was!!

The pizza was cut into squares, triangle pizza at least for the past year wasn't very popular with establishments or certain people, especially if it was just a cheese pizza, but that didn't matter at all to Irene.

Before she knew it Irene found herself eating the entire pizza, sharing some of the cheese and pepperoni with Calamari since that was her favorite part to eat.

(Ah I didn't mean to indulge so much tonight... well you know what? It was delicious! Who knows how long it's been since I last ate a nice meal that WASN'T something from the hospital cafeteria...)

Calamari at this point was sleeping next to Irene on the couch, satisfied and happily napping.

(Daw... I'm glad she liked it too, thank goodness the ingredients in this are alright to give to her in moderation, I have trouble saying no to my darling little Calamari!)

Noticing the time, Irene decided it was time to get ready for bed. There were patients to see and work for her to do tomorrow.

(I really want to wear my comfiest and favorite pajamas tonight, where are they? I know I washed them and had them in my pile of clean laundry on my bed... aha! Here they are!)

Irene quickly threw on her favorite pajamas, an oversized nightshirt with the words "Live, Laugh, CatMom" printed on it in cursive accompanyed by a silly picture of a cat Irene absolutely adored. Paired with it were her flowy and comfortable pajama bottoms, decorated with pictures of cats with silly mustaches.

(Finally done for the day, I really should fold my laundry and put it away... Ehhh I'll do it tomorrow. For now I'll just put the clothes and the basket on my dinnertable.)

Nighttime quickly began to set as Irene sat at her worn down antique vanity desk. The stars were beautiful at this hour, glittering throughout the night, they were one of the only things that stayed consistent and normal in Irene's life.

(Geez, no matter how many times I look at myself in the mirror I can't help but notice how quickly time passes. Stress really isn't doing your already awkward looks any favors... Maybe I need to change up my look again? But how?

Maybe I should get back into trying to learn makeup and more "modern" fashion... Or maybe a new haircut? Maybe not that latter option, I'm quite happy with my bob, it's certainly been easier to care for my hair lately, and I'm not sure I could pull off anything shorter or more... "Adventurous.")

"Mrrroww??" With a quick leap, Calamari jumped onto the desk, knocking over a few cosmetics, toiletries, and photos while doing so.

"Woah! Careful my dear! Haha you always seem to know when something is bothering me..."

*Sigh* "I suppose I'm just worried about myself again is all. You know me, whenever I'm not worrying about how I look, I worry about my work."

(I guess I just, never expected my life to go this way I suppose. Cipher really did throw a wrench into a lot of my plans in life. I mean, did anyone expect any of this to happen? I'm ashamed to admit I was arrogant in the beginning, I believed this all couldn't be possible, that it'd be solved soon if anything, I believed it couldn't cause as much problems and dangers to the world as it did...)

"You know what they say, every rose has it's thorn, although I certainly feel like I have more thorns than rose sometimes..."

(I'll never forget my first reaction to being sent out as a part of the group of doctors to help the people evacuating Gravity Falls. There was so much panic, so much chaos, and some of the wounds I had to patch up weren't anything you'd ever normally deal with even if you worked in the ER.

It almost seemed unreal, that any moment someone would say "cut" and it would end like a movie.)

(It's these kind of moments of panic that really make me childishly wish that the world of medical science was as simple as we believed it was as kids, that all it really took was being rushed to the infirmary, some rest, a bandaid, and some care to heal whatever was hurting somone.)

(But that wasn't how things were. It was much more complicated than that, and the kicker was that you always held your patient's life in your line like a tether. Whenever that tether broke and you couldn't help fix it no matter how hard you tried, having to tell the patient's family their loved one was gone... It's almost too much to bear sometimes.)

"I'm so thankful I have you though Callie, I really think you're one of the only good things to come out of this mess and into my life."

"Woof!"

"Haha!! That's a new one! You never cease to surprise me girl! That and the weird things you sometimes bring me home..."

(When she was younger it was normal stuff like mice, small birds, and insects. Nowadays it was much more... weird. When it wasn't something like a gnome panicking for it's life or an eyebat, it was random items.)

(At first it was pretty normal, like a sparkly pink ribbon probably used to tie up hair or something, black nail polish, or what I'm assuming is someone's art project for pins of what I'm guessing is a top hat and bow tie??)

(Then it became weirder and more varied. For example, she once brought home a weird plush that resembles Dr. Pines in a way. That one in particular was odd because I don't think I've ever seen Dr. Pines smile in such a showboating way, let alone wear anything that wasn't of any semblance to "his muse". The suit seemed normal but the fez was definitely the weirdest thing.)

(Most recently she brought home some kind of sentient gummy lizard-snake thing. It had jumped out of my hands when I had tried to take it outside to release it, and I still haven't found it to this day. Sometimes I swear spot it moving around somewhere from the corner of my eye while I'm at home...)

"Anyways, how about we head to bed? I know I'm tired today after an exhausting day!"

(I'll clean up my vanity later, it's certainly getting way too late for me to be up at this hour...)

With that, Irene promptly headed to bed with Calamari following in tow. She promptly fell asleep quickly after laying her head down, despite wanting to spend some more time thinking about things.

Unbeknownst to her though, up high in a corner of the wall of her apartment, was a cute little housespider sitting on it's web.

Of course the next morning Calamari would be found by Irene playing with this exact spider.

A cute little spider, with a strange pattern that strangely looked like a certain evil dorito with an eye. :)

(I'm really glad you and others liked my cringey fanfiction! It definitely surprised me and had me smiling ear to ear!

I hope you don't mind I kinda winged it with Oleander's character. I thought she kinda gave off the vibes of a tomboy/tomboy in her youth while also the vibes of the "determined doctor" trope. Hopefully this doesn't clash with your actual ideas for her? I love the idea too of her being a dorky cat lady too lol.

I seriously loved the details you made about Calamari! I thought it'd be funny if her teleporting power also let her travel dimensions for funsies, because imagine all of the mischief she could cause! Especially if she likes to steal Bill and Ford's stuff the most lmaoo.)

I LOVE cat mom Oleander!! And Calamari stealing stuff from other universes? PERFECT. I DEEPLY hope she steals things from other AU Fords!

And, Ford. Honey. Baby. Calamari isn't the reason you lost the cat show.

(I think I'll call this ask fiction! I'll put these in that tag, for those who want to find them again!! c: )

[l0vema]

Serenity

A/n: just wanted Dino fluff (my bias wrecker) cause I've been feeling some burn out. Enjoy🙆🏾‍♀️

You sigh as you pull the heavy work bag onto your shoulder . It's been a long day. Your head is pumping with an upcoming headache, your lips are chapped from the lack of water or food from your packed schedule. You can't wait to just knock out into your bed and sleep the entire day away.

Stepping into you and your boyfriend's shared home you take in the dim lighting of the house and shoved off your heels that have your toe in pain. You walked towards your living room wanting to see Dino before knocking out till the next morning.

"babe..." You call out before noticing the blankets strewn across the couch. Smiling you kneel to come face to face with him. Looking at his soft features and hair falling across his forehead. "You're so beautiful," you whisper. He was. The part in his lips, his fluttering eyelashes, the redness from sleeping creating a cute pink hue over his cheeks.

"mmmhmm," he stirred awake. Glossy eyes looking at you before smiling, "hey." He gets his arms free from the blanket to pull you into a hug. You fall into the hug and pulled up into the couch and slumber paradise he created. "How was work?" He asked so sweetly, always checking in on you. Being honest you tell him, "I'm starving, thirsty, and barely awake. I think I can sue them for not letting me sit around in a cute pantsuit and get paid for nothing." Your words pull a laugh out of him, "you're too fine for this suffering"

You turn your head towards his face, still in embrace. Looking into his eyes you feel a swell of love. He leans into you and pulls you by your chin to kiss you. It starts with a small peck before he moves back, " I mean it. You're too fine to suffer. If you want to stay home I will always support you. Or at the very least you could do less and rest more." You've had this conversation with Dino before, You trust him but still...you don't think you're ready to stop your research and work just yet-despite being so tired most of the time these days.

"Let me take care of you baby," he adds. You lean in to kiss him letting your love spill over into him. Sometimes words were too much.

You get up from him remembering your plans to fall asleep...maybe get something to drink before it. As if he read your mind Dino says, "let's get your belly full, go take a shower baby." He grabs your bag for you and leads you to your bedroom.

You strip and hop into the hot water your thoughtful boyfriend had opened already.

Post shower you feel clean and fuzzy when you walk into the kitchen seeing a plate made and Dino on his phone. "I love you so much," you confess as you sit at the island to dig in. Smiling widely Dino puts his hone down to wrap his arm around you from the back. "I love you too," he replies before kissing you on your head. "How was your day?" You ask him as you shove the pieces of food down your throat.

Once you are done and feel satisfied you sigh happily. "Let's go" Dino says (who was back hugging you as he told you about his whole day while you ate). He picks you up and walks down to your bedroom. You're quiet as he places you onto the bed, getting in next to you. "Are you able to sleep if you already took a nap?' you ask him. He hums in response as he gets closer to you and covers you both with the blanket. "You get me to relax easily baby and I know you're really tired so let me cuddle you even if I don't fall asleep." You nod and wrap your arms around Dino. The two of you are face to face and just stare at one another before getting all giggly. You love this man and how he makes you forget all the exhaustion the rest of the world brings towards you. He is a breath of fresh air for you. Dino leans in to kiss you one last time before letting his eyes shut. You copy him and no sooner does sleep pull you and Dino into the abyss of your love.

L0ve, M.A

[lillaydee]

One More Try

Landlord Joel Miller / Reader

They say a woman is tested when her man has nothing. But a man is tested when he has everything. What happens if you both passed the test, but your partners did not?

WARNINGS:

Unplanned Pregnancy, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), SO MUCH FLUFF, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Reader was pregnant before meeting Joel, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (Not OC), Landlord Joel, No Outbreak AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

---

You kicked the door closed, your hands letting go of the two large suitcases you had been wheeling up the five flights of stairs. You were soaked to the bones from the rain, your sneakered feet sore and squelchy from your very long walk. You took all your clothes off, glad for the warmth radiating from the heater in the small study room you had rented for your doctorate. You opened one of the suitcases, found that some of the clothing was not completely soaked and pulled on some dry ones. Small victories, you thought. You scanned the room, mentally calculating for spaces to hang your wet clothes, hoping some clothes will be dry enough for you to wear the next day.

After some strategic thinking and making do with what you had in the cramped space, you managed to get all the wet clothes hung one way or another. You sat on the single sofa at the corner of the room, feet propped up on the small coffee table the last candidate had kindly left you, wrapped the crocheted blanket around your body, and fell asleep.

A small shake woke you. Your supervisor Professor Frank Anthony’s worried face appeared in front of you. Relieve floods it when you responded. He gave you a bottle of water, and two pills. You are burning up, he says. What the hell happened? You cannot think. You just felt like shit that’s been dumped onto the highway and driven over again and again. When you didn’t answer, Frank searched for his phone, and called someone. You fell back asleep.

When you opened your eyes again, your fellow candidate and best friend Maria was in the room with Frank. Both looking at you like you might spontaneously combust. You felt better than you did, but you knew without a doubt that you still had a temperature. How could you not? You walked almost 10 miles in the rain, dragging two full suitcases behind you, needing the walk to clear your head. What happened? Frank asked again. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness overpowered you, and you broke down.

---

Maria was packing your stuff. You were going back home with her, she said. No, she will not take no for answer. But you couldn’t do that, she lived with her boyfriend in a studio apartment. Frank offered you a room at his house while you looked for a place, but you said you didn’t want to intrude. You were perfectly fine right there. You will finish this doctorate if it’s the last thing you did. You just needed to find a job, and a place to live. You’ll be fine.

You cried in Maria’s lap for hours that day. Frank came up to tell you he had started the process for you to be his research assistant, just so you can start over while you look for other jobs. You only had your dissertation to complete, he said. You could do this. Maria’s phone rang, and after a few minutes of talking, she came back with good news. Her boyfriend’s brother owned a building of short-term rental apartments just outside the university compounds, she said, and one was available for you if you moved in today. The rent was cheap, and it’s close to the university, which was perfect seeing as you no longer had a car.

You were desperate. You had a headache; you wanted to throw up, everything that had happened since yesterday evening was just bubbling up in your chest threatening to come out of your mouth. But this would mean one thing less for you to think about. You quickly agreed.

When Maria drove up to the apartment building, the two of you were greeted by her boyfriend Tommy. He hugged you tight, telling you how sorry he was, and that they will help you get through this. He helped you with your suitcases into the building, up the stairs to the first floor, and into the first door on the right. Apartment 1A. The door was wide open, a man inside with a basket of cleaning supplies and a mop bucket, finishing up on mopping the linoleum floor.

It’s a room. A bathroom immediately across from the door, next to the small built in double door closet, an open floor plan living/sleeping area that housed a queen-sized bed, a love seat and a coffee table, and an eat-in kitchen separated by a collapsible door. It’s a hell of a difference from the posh condo you were just living in yesterday, but at least you will have a roof over your head.

Maria helped you unpack while the other man continued doing some last-minute cleaning. Tommy had gone to get some food for the three of you. Silence and depression must have oozed from you, enough to make Maria stop unpacking and sit with you on the love seat, her hand holding yours. The two of you just sat there quietly, eyes on each other, Maria silently telling you she will be here for you no matter what.

The man broke the surprisingly comfortable silence. He told you the only window in the room was stuck, but he will be back the next day to fix it. Also, the laundry room was downstairs, just to the left of the mailboxes, and if you needed anything, he lived right below you, just knock on his door or call him, and he will help you out in any way he could. Maria looked at him disbelievingly, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

You thank him, asking for his name. He gave you his card.

“Joel, Joel Miller.”

And he quickly left the room, avoiding Maria’s judgmental eyes. Miller, oh, this is Tommy’s brother, you think.

When Tommy returned, the three of you ate silently, the two of them not knowing what to say to you. Tommy was quietly seething, unable to believe the man you dedicated the last ten years of your life to would do this to you. Before he left, he told you to call him or Maria, or even Joel if you needed anything. But you remember, you no longer had a phone. He even took that away from you.

When Maria took you to get a new phone, your credit card was declined. Your account had been frozen. The clinic you went to for your fever told you your health insurance had been cancelled. You had to use the cash you had to pay for a new phone and decided that buying Tylenol was cheaper than getting checked up.

He had worked fast. You had not even been out of the house for 24 hours and he had taken every comfort you had away from you. You went to sleep that night with your pillows wet from your tears. Ten years. And he just pulled the rug out from under you.

---

You met Max when you were at the teacher’s training college. He was a barista at the café you frequented, his good looks and charm quickly capturing your attention. You were inseparable since then, and when you graduated, he moved with you to the small town you were teaching at. Work was scarce for him, so when he told you he wanted to go back to school and earn his degree in business management, you fully supported it. He went to school during the day, and bartended at night, while you took a waitressing job at the same place he worked at after school ended, and a bookstore during the weekends to make ends meet.

When he graduated, with well-paying jobs still being scarce in a small town, he persuaded you to move to a bigger city, where job prospects for him would be better. You moved to the city with him, where he quickly got a job at a small marketing company, his pay was not much and both of you had to take other jobs to make ends meet. You were still teaching at a school just on the edge of the city, doing your master’s degree part time. He fully supported your decision to further yourself, knowing that you have bigger dreams to teach at a university one day. You lived in a small one-bedroomed apartment, not much, but just enough for the two of you. Your life was going well, despite money being tight.

When the company he worked for went out of business, he told you that a couple of his coworkers were getting some money together to start their own company, some of the clients from their old job had already agreed to be their first clients. It was all a go, except he needed help with some seed money, he’s about ten thousand dollars short.

Your late mother had been a frugal woman, being a single mother had made her very careful with money, a trait she had passed down to you, along with her savings when she passed. You have the money, but it would wipe out your savings. Your conscience was telling you no, do not give him the money. Be careful! But you were in love. And he really was all you had left, so you gave it to him. Max was grateful, he worked hard, money was tight that first year, but things were looking up. His earnings increased, you both could afford to let go of your other jobs, and you managed to graduate with a master’s degree on time, with no loans to your name.

As time went by, his company started doing very well indeed. You expressed your desire to pursue your doctorate, and he was more than supportive. He suggested you become a full-time student, after all, you did support him when he needed you, so why not quit your job? He could easily support both of you. His income was now more than ten times yours anyway, you have access to the joint account, might as well go full on. Let him take care of you, please? So, you did. You enrolled at a university a little over ten miles from your new shiny luxurious condo and became a full time PhD candidate.

Max, being so busy with his company flourishing, was seldom home. He bought you nice things, took you on vacations, all in the name of thanking you for being there for him when he had nothing. But being raised in a humble home, you weren’t looking for luxuries, only his time and attention, which he promised you will have once things settle down a bit. Being home alone in a big condo that had a foyer bigger than your entire first apartment together was unnerving, so you rented a study room at the university, a small room where you could do your work comfortably, without distractions whenever Max told you he would be late coming home.

And that was where Frank found you this morning.

You had arrived home the night before to your two suitcases outside your door, Max and his smirking secretary Esther demanding you hand over your keys, jewelry and phone. You came to this house that HE bought with two suitcases of clothes, he said. You leave with them only. Leave everything he bought for you behind. You were blindsided. You did not see this coming. Despite him being busy, his attention to you had never wavered. He was the same loving man you met all those years ago. Sexually, he had never given you doubt that he was still attracted to you. So, you asked him, why?

He said he wanted wife material. Someone to wait for him at home, not someone who was so ambitious they couldn’t stop getting degree after degree. What was the point of spending the rest of his life with someone who could only think about furthering themselves and not giving themselves fully to him? He wanted a wife, a family, and Esther was willing to give him that, he said, while she smugly caressed her lower stomach.

Oh. Oh…

He had always said marriage can wait. Babies can wait. Let’s focus on the business and your studies first. Get yourselves sorted, and then we can talk marriage and family. But clearly, he just didn’t want them with you. You reminded him through tears that you had always been there for him, that you had helped build his business from the ground up. He smirked, went inside, came back out and tossed a wad of cash at you.

Ten thousand dollars.

And shut the door.

---

Joel was folding his laundry when you came in, your laundry just bunched in your hand instead of a basket, having only moved in with your suitcases. He rushed towards you with a spare basket, and you thanked him quietly, your face still pale and your body weak. You still had a temperature, but you just wanted to get yourself sorted. You did your laundry quietly, mentally calculating the amount of money you had, silently budgeting, trying to figure out how to stretch the amount unceremoniously thrown at you as much as you can. The RA position Frank had gotten you will help, but not much. By your calculation, you had another year at the most before your dissertation was completed, so you needed to figure out how to get by until then, so you can graduate on time.

You just felt so stupid. You let him handle everything, thinking that your love was strong enough, that you were a solid couple. You let him talk you into quitting your job. Into having a joint account that you no longer contributed to since you were no longer working. You stood there, leaning against the folding table in the laundry room, watching your laundry go round and round in the machine.

Joel watched you silently. He wondered what you were thinking about. He had been where you were, albeit the situation may have been different. He remembered the first few months after Laura pulled the rug from under him, how hopeless he had felt, how stupid, how meaningless life had been. If not for Tommy and Maria, he would have drowned at the bottom of a bottle long ago. He wanted to say something to you, to let you know everything will be alright, but it was not in his nature to speak to women he hardly knew, let alone one in your situation. He was a man of action, not one of many words.

He watched you as you looked at your laundry in the machine, eyes looking but not really. He knew you were not really there. He knew how impossible it was for someone in your situation to think about other things, no matter how hard you tried. He worried for you, which was not like him. He only knew your first name, rental agreements hadn’t even been signed yet, Tommy insisting all that can be taken care of later. Joel placed all his laundry in his basket before taking another glance in your direction.

You were not there.

He walked around the table, and saw you on the floor, passed out.

Joel didn’t hesitate, picking you up and taking you to his truck. He called Tommy on the way, driving the four miles to the university emergency room – why does this place have to be so huge???? When they asked him for her insurance information, he told them he would pay for the treatment, giving them your first name, placing his credit card on the counter. He waited nervously outside while they checked you out, filling in the situation to Tommy, Maria, Frank and his husband Bill when they got there.

The doctor came outside, calling for Joel. All of them stood up, Joel stepping forward to talk to the doctor.

“Your wife is fine, Mr. Miller. She is just dehydrated and has a slight temperature. She can leave in a little bit. You can go in to see her if you want, but first, congratulations Mr. Miller, you are going to be a father.”

---

You couldn’t process it. You were pregnant. How? You were on birth control. Just your luck to still get knocked up despite your efforts to be safe. And the father of your child had just dumped you for his secretary, who was also pregnant with his child. Shit, you should get tested. Who knows where else he’d been dipping his wick. And you need to get insured. Shit. You had no insurance. How much was this going to cost? And oh God, you’re going to have a baby. How much do babies cost? How much would the check-ups be? You still hadn’t paid the deposit and first and last month for your apartment. And now this too. Shit. Why did they take you to the ER? Did they call an ambulance?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You couldn’t catch your breath. The machines started beeping. Shit, calm down. No, no, no, no, no… more procedures, more money down the drain. Money you didn’t have. You quickly pull the heart rate thingy off your finger. But the beeping didn’t stop. The wires on your chest. You ripped those off too. No. No unnecessary procedures. You knew what was wrong with you. But the nurses were there at the first warning of the machines, they pushed your shoulder onto the bed when you tried to get up. No. No, no, no, no, no. You saw the needle. Shit. How much would that cost you now? No. No!!!

Everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in the treatment room in the ER. You were in a room, a ward, and it was dark outside. There was only one bed, there were still wires on you but none on your chest, thankfully. Just that blasted heart rate thingy pinching your forefinger. You pulled it off. Your throat felt so dry, despite the hanging IV bag that was uncomfortably connected to your hand. You needed to pee. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to sit up, your feet hanging off the bed. You stood up, one hand on the IV drip stand, took a step and immediately felt woozy.

A pair of warm hands suddenly appeared on your waist, steadying you. You turned around, your eyes meeting a pair of sleepy brown eyes that you had only seen a couple of times. His clothes crumpled, his hair tousled and his face showing evidence of uncomfortable sleep all over.

You took a step back from him, almost toppling over in the process, but he tightened his hold of you, one hand letting go of your waist and taking your arm instead. He told you not to freak out. It’s only him. His voice was rough from being awoken so suddenly, but you suddenly relaxed. Something about his voice was so calming to you, but you couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Once you had steadied yourself, he let go of you. You went to the bathroom to relieve yourself, and when you came out, he was sitting in the chair to the left of the bed, which explained why you didn’t notice his presence. He helped you back to bed and gave you some water. You were so thirsty you drank three full glasses before you placed the glass down on the cabinet next to your bed.

“What happened? Why am I warded?”

“You had a panic attack. They had to sedate you, keep your overnight to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m pregnant,” you said slowly, remembering what happened.

He nodded. You covered your face with your hands, tears falling so suddenly even you were surprised by its presence. Your knees came up to your chest, and you hugged them, rocking your body slightly, processing the realization. Joel got up to his feet, his hands twitching, as if he wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how. He let you cry. His eyes averted slightly, giving you some privacy, flicking back towards you every now and again to make sure you were alright. He finally settled back down when you wiped your face clean with your gown and took a deep breath.

“Why have you stayed here with me Joel?”

“They wouldn’t let Maria stay – she’s not family. And since I brought you in, they thought I was the father. Someone should stay with you, make sure you’re okay.”

Oh.

“It’s okay if you want to go, Joel. I’ll be alright. I’m not your responsibility. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable sleeping in your own bed.”

“I’m already here,” he said with a shrug. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, before he told you to lie back down and get some rest, but not before he made you drink more water. When you woke up, Joel wasn’t there. The nurses were fussing over you, taking your blood pressure, checking your temperature, before a doctor came in with more nurses and some interns, an ultrasound machine wheeled in behind her.

“Good morning, Julia, I’m Dr Servopoulos, but you can call me Tess. I’m here to do your ultrasound. Would you be okay with my interns being here to learn?” she asked, a smile on her face.

You nodded. Tess pointed at one of the interns who began to read your patient history, when Joel came back in, a paper bag in one hand, a tray with two to go cups in the other. He stopped when he saw the crowd of doctors around your bed.

“Oh, I’ll wait outside,” he began retreating.

“Is he the father? If so, he can stay,” Tess said, looking at you.

You looked at Joel, remembering what he told you last night. You nodded. You offered him your hand. He didn’t hesitate, taking it after placing the bag and cups on the chair he spent the night in. You knew this was not appropriate. You had only known him for a couple of days. But you were really scared, you didn’t want to be alone for this. You will apologize to him later, you thought. But he didn’t seem to mind, sandwiching the hand you offered him between both of his. Why did this feel so right? His hands were warm, the comfort they brought spreading throughout your body, and suddenly you didn’t feel so scared anymore.

When Tess lifted your gown up to prepare for the ultrasound, Joel averted his eyes, he moved further up to stand beside your head, his hands still clasping yours. You looked up at him, your face scrunched slightly when an intern squirted cold gel on your belly before the fart-like sound of the almost empty bottle made you snicker like a child. The young lady was persistent, determined to get every last drop of gel from the bottle, making more and more fart noises, causing you to lose control and started laughing out loud. He lost it when you snorted, letting out a full belly laugh along with you, making you forget you didn’t know this man at all. The doctors couldn’t help but laugh along. Even Tess, who must have done this a million times, was wiping tears from her eyes.

When the tiny bean of a baby appeared on the screen, you stopped laughing.

“There’s your baby Mom, Dad,” Tess said, pointing at the screen.

You felt all your problems melt away. You had a baby in your belly, this was real. You were pregnant. You felt Joel’s hand tighten around yours, and you squeezed back without thinking.

“Looks like you are about seven to eight weeks along,” Tess continued. “Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

She clicked on some buttons and maneuvered the wand around a bit and the room was suddenly filled with the whoosh whooshing sounds of your baby’s heartbeat.

Your sight suddenly went blurry. Uncontrollable tears filling them to the brim. Despite the tears, you couldn’t help smiling. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. You were pulled from your haze when you felt a pair of whiskered lips touch your temple. You looked up at Joel, a wide smile on his face, his teary eyes glued to the screen, just like yours were.

After you were cleaned up, Tess talked to both of you about pre-natal care, telling you your due date, and setting up the next appointment. The whole time, Joel’s hand never left yours, and you were in no hurry to let go either. His presence was welcomed. He calmed you down, although you had no idea why.

After the doctors left, the two of you settled back down, Joel finally letting your hand go. He brought tea for you, and some pastries from the café downstairs. After he helped you eat your own provided breakfast, he put the cups and plates away, before sitting back down, and began apologizing to you.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Getting carried away,” he said, his eyes on his own feet, referring to the kiss on your temple. “Thank you for letting me share that with you. It was a special time. I know you would’ve preferred to share that with the father and not some strange man you have just met,” he said quietly.

It was then that it hit you, you didn’t even think about Max throughout all that wonderful experience. It was as if your body and soul had accepted that you would be alone in this, even if you hadn’t decided if you were going to let him know about the baby yet. You assured him it was alright and thanked him in turn for being there for you. He didn’t need to, but he did, and you had a wonderful first check-up as a result.

Maria and Frank called, wanting to come by to check up on you, but you had already been discharged, so they agreed to come visit at the apartment instead. Joel took care of the bill and took you to your new home. He made a point to keep the bill out of your reach. When he cut the engine and ran out to open your door for you, you took the bill out of the console and quickly hid it under your shirt. You needed to pay him back. For your own peace of mind. When Frank and Bill and Tommy and Maria arrived, Joel left the five of you to talk. Only then did you open the envelope. The bill was over several pages, along with a copy of the ultrasound. You took it off the clip, and studied the bill.

Your heart skipped a beat at the amount displayed. For one night? Shit. What are you going to do?

Maria took the bill, looked at it and gave it to Tommy, who glanced at it before pocketing it. But they all knew what you were thinking. Bill, ever the no nonsense lawyer that he was, looked you straight in the eyes and asked you if you were going to call Max. He told you that it would be entirely up to you, of course, but they think you should, and see how it would go from there. If he agreed to take responsibility, at least you wouldn’t be burdened by the medical costs and anything else the baby needs alone – lord knows that man could afford it. But if he didn’t, then maybe that’ll just hammer down the reality of what an asshole he really was, and you could move on from there, with their help.

In your heart, you knew you wanted to tell him. He was the love of your life for ten years. This was the baby you two made together, with love. You may not have planned this, but the love was real, at least on your part. That night, you thought about what it would have been like to find out about the baby if you two were still together. Would he have been happy? Would he have hugged you and kissed you and cried tears of joy? One part of you would like to believe so, but your mind kept flashing back to the way he dumped you. Without warning. Cold. Smug. Uncaring. He didn’t even care that you wouldn’t have any way to contact an uber or a taxi, he didn’t care that it was raining and cold. It was as if the last ten years didn’t happen. And ten thousand dollars was all he thought you were worth after all those years you helped support him. And you couldn’t get the sneering look in his eyes when he tossed the money at you, like you meant nothing to him, not even yesterday’s garbage.

But Bill was right. He should know. It was his baby, after all. And even if you were heartbroken, you didn’t have the heart to keep a baby away from its father. So, if he decided to be in the baby’s life, you would let him.

So there you were, with Bill, Frank, Tommy, Maria and Joel by your side, standing in front of his condo entrance. The guards wouldn’t let you in, their faces apologetic, but they were only doing their jobs. When he drove up, Max got out of the car aggressively, asking you what you wanted. Didn’t he make himself clear? You were no longer welcome there. Behind him, Esther got out of the car, her face clearly annoyed that you were there.

“I’m pregnant, Max.”

He froze. “What?” His eyes searched your face and body, he took a tentative step towards you. “You’re pregnant?” a small smile graced his face.

For a moment, you thought he was going to hug you.

But his smile faltered, and his eyes turned cold again. “How do I even know that’s mine? Or that you’re not lying? You spend all day on campus. How do I know you haven’t been whoring around? How do I know you’re not just saying this to trap me?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. He’s the one who left you for someone else, but he’s accusing you of sleeping around? No. You can see Tommy and Joel taking a step towards you in your periphery, but a blurry figure got in front of you first, and a resounding smack hit your face.

Esther was screaming at you, calling you a gold digger. A scorned woman. A used up old bitch. Why couldn’t you just accept that he doesn’t want you anymore? Why would you break up a family? Let it go, bitch, let it go. He’s mine now. Go and hide among your books and let us live our lives in peace. How dare you try to take him away from me? As if you could ever. Look in the mirror, slut!

At this point, Maria pulled you away, walking you to her car. Joel, Tommy and Frank followed. Bill handed a stunned Max his card, telling him to contact his office when he made up his mind. Esther was still screaming. Throwing her shoe your way, calling you every name in the book. But you didn’t even hear her at this point, Max’s accusatory words lingering in your ears.

Bill came to see you in your study room a week later, an envelope in his hands. Max had contacted his office. He enclosed a cheque with enough money to pay for your studies, health insurance and rent for a whole year, which would be enough for you to get back on your feet, under the condition that you sign a document relinquishing him of all his fatherly commitments to the baby you were carrying forever.

You didn’t even blink when you signed the document, despite Bill and Frank’s protests. Were you proud that you took his money? No. But he had hurt you so much at this point, you just wanted to be rid of him. Why worry for someone who didn’t want you anymore? Your mother raised you alone. You could do it too. You had a life to start living again, a doctorate to finish, and a baby to grow and eventually, raise.

Alone.

Part 2

[crushedsweets]

sorry if u have been asked this before, but how would you describe kate's personality? i just rrly love ur characterization of her :3

I actually DONT think I have been asked this before ?! SO IM EXCITED TO RAMBLE. Also Tysm anon ur a sweetheart.

Kate’s one of those characters that I didn’t know much about and only got invested in cuz my anons kept asking about her in my AU and eventually I got attached to the version I created . so in my AU, she's been a proxy since she was 13, is about 27 now. living in the woods for over a decade . LOL...

If I had to pick a handful of words to describe her personality in my AU, I think…. Awkward. Anxious. Aggressive. Avoidant. Quadruple A…LOL

Awkward on account of … the operator got her sick when she was around 13, and she’s been living in the woods since. Bound to make anyone bad at socializing. She’s really blunt and straightforward when she does decide to speak(not often), because she kinda lost whatever filter she might’ve had as a kid. Other people describe her as rude, but I don’t think she MEANS to be. Even if shes not saying anything, she just doesnt know how to reply to people when they say stuff. They make a joke and shes like mm. 

I hc that Kate has really bad generalized anxiety. Not in a shy stammering way, but in a “the worst possible situation is going to happen and I don’t know how to stop it” way. Overthinks, assumes that any sort of headaches means slendy is mad and gonna hurt her(even if it’s because she just hasn’t had water all day), starts freaking out because of it. The anxiety just makes her behavior kinda difficult, linking back to the awkwardness and the aggression.

SO WITH AGGRESSION. She believes everyone is out to get her. Partially because she’s willing to kill/hurt/maim anyone if it means slendy won’t hurt her, so she’s projecting her own lack of morals onto others. She’s killed lauren (technically the chaser, but kate blames herself), she’s helped ruin tim/brians lives, and she’s violently attacked her friends before. And of course, shes had to bear a lot abuse and torment from slendy (and masky/hoody/other creatures). Only natural that shes combined defense and offense 

WHIIIIIIIIIICH ALSO EXPLAINS THE WHOLE AVOIDANT THING. She has such awful trust issues, both with others and herself. Easier to just go hide in the mines and refuse to talk to people. 

BUT IN GENERAL, like if you meet her while tobys hosting a get together at the proxy cabin, she kinda just sits there. Watches. Shes selectively mute so chances are even if you talk to her, shes not replying. Some people think shes a bitch(jeff), some people think shes just shy(nina). I’d imagine poor eye contact, biting her nails till they bleed, just walking out if she doesnt wanna be apart of something, brutal honesty. Messy, disorganized. She thinks so much, so fast, so hard that all her thoughts are so jumbled that it kinda turns into nothing. Ask her whats on her mind and she doesnt even know. She’s kinda jumpy and skittish. 

I think my main thing is trying to find a balance between expressing her anxiety and coldness. She’s not like some cool badass chick, and shes not some shy cute thing. Shes really awkward and uncomfortable to be around half the time. LOL.

Also off topic but. Since i hc her to have such bad anxiety. AND i also hc her to have chronic migraines/pain in general. She smokes a lot of weed/eats edibles to calm herself down and ease her pain. might attribute to a lot of her behavior seeming kind of dazed, but she honestly doesnt act that differently. More relaxed . . . 

[darkkitty1208]

@ra-con-teur asked:

Thank you for the prompt, lovely! 💖 I went sort of loose with this one, hope you don’t mind! Also, to others: I tend to have prompts be sent through the ask box! :D This one’s fine though :P

The biggest, fattest, juiciest thank yous to @janora00 the absolute SAINT for reading this over for me and helping spot mistakes/tweaking bits. Oh, and for somehow convincing me this work isn't shit. I love you, babes.

handle with care

Summary:

Reigen has a bad day. Luckily for him, Serizawa's there to sort him out.

Word count: 2,512

Tags/Warnings: References to Depression, Reigen Arataka Has ADHD, Trans Reigen Arataka, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Smoking

AO3

It hits Reigen immediately when he wakes up that day. A tightness in his throat, the taste of dread thick on his tongue. There's a kind of heaviness weighing on his chest, keeping his limbs pinned down onto the mattress.

Reigen heaves a heavy sigh. He catches movement to his side, the sound of rustling sheets. He turns to look.

Serizawa's shuffled closer, chest rising and falling in steady breaths as he continues to sleep. Reigen feels his lips tug in a fond smile at the sight—he could get used to waking up with a warm body pressed to his side like this. He turns back over, however, not wanting to disturb the man.

The clock on his nightstand reads a blinking 6:07. Of course, his inner alarm clock has decided to wake him up bright and early on a weekend of all days. It doesn't help that he's already feeling the start of a headache building tension in his temples.

He rises to sit upright slowly, movements deliberate as he tries making as minimal sound as possible, eyeing Serizawa all the while to make sure he doesn't accidentally wake him up. They've had a rough week; Serizawa deserves the rest.

The cold of the floorboards shake off the rest of his drowsiness away when his feet swing gently off the bed to meet it. The blanket slips away from his—now that he's realised—completely bare torso and the springs of the old mattress creaks at him as he lifts his weight off of it to trudge quietly into the bathroom.

He makes quick business emptying his bladder, and less quicker business washing his hands. And then he takes a moment to just stand there, staring at his reflection. Sandy blonde hair ruffled in every direction, darker roots beginning to show. He hopes the pallor has to do with the unflattering lighting of the bathroom's fluorescents; he knows, at least, that the shadows are. The dark rings under his eyes, though, are unmistakable.

He scowls at it.

His eyes trail down to his torso. They fix themselves on the two, crescent marks under his chest. He lifts a finger, drags a nail lightly over the skin. It sends a twinge of nothing up his nerves.

He looks further down, to the slight pudge around his stomach, pokes it a bit.

The light above him buzzes horribly, adding to the steady pounding in his head. It hums its way down around his nape, settles there heavily.

He picks up his toothbrush, squeezes some paste onto it, scrubs it against his teeth mechanically.

The buzzing overhead only grows louder.

Days like this don't come as often as they used to. He’s used to dealing with them on his own, really. Most days they’re easy to ignore; shoving the build of something tense in his chest by forcing his best customer service grin on his face, blaming the slight quiver of his fingers on too much coffee, chalking up the slight shortness of breath on years of habitual smoking finally catching up to him.

Reigen knows how to handle himself well. 

But it’s on days like this, where there aren’t any clients to perform for or stacks of paperwork to fill or walls of text in his email inbox taking up his screen begging to be answered, that Reigen lets himself slip between the cracks. It’s in moments like this, as he takes another drag out of his cigarette, feeling the sun kissing the bits of skin not covered by Serizawa’s shirt he snagged from the closet as he stands in the balcony, that he lets himself unfurl; lays himself bare to pick at the delicate parts. 

The nicotine doesn’t give him the right kind of rush it did in the past, dulled into the numbness that it is, but it takes some of the edge off. 

He watches the smoke disperse into the steadily brightening sky. The clouds roll ahead to a destination only they know. He leans forward on the railing, watches the city as it wakes up, the hustle and bustle beginning to sound itself into the air. The tinkle of a bell from the bakery a couple blocks down, their employee arriving for opening time. The absent swoosh of tires from the cars passing along the street. The distant rumbling of a train from the nearest station, which he knows is filled with bleary-eyed people commuting god-knows-where on a weekend like this. 

And him, standing uselessly on his balcony overlooking the view of life unfolding before him as the sun greets the sky a good morning, as if mocking his sour mood.

He turns to the steaming coffee he let cool on the small table he keeps at the corner, an ashtray resting beside it with dry flakes of cigarette residue marking the clear, glass base a darkening grey. He lifts the cup, ignores the slight tremble, takes a sip. He places it back down with a clink. 

He hears the sound of the balcony door sliding open just as he turns back to watch the streets below. He hears more than sees Serizawa shuffling quietly forward, slumping onto his back to hook a chin over his shoulder. His arms reach to wrap securely around his waist. 

Reigen lets Serizawa’s heat—he naturally runs warm, is a fact he’s come to find delight in—seep into his bones. He closes his eyes, letting the morning air finally wrap around him when he had been too occupied by his own thoughts. 

"You're smoking," Serizawa points out after a while, voice gruff with the lingering bits of sleep. Reigen can feel the way it vibrates against his shoulder, down his back. He flicks the dust off his cigarette, watches it fall from a height. 

He hums. "Yeah," he says, "I am."

Serizawa's head shifts where he lays it on his shoulder; probably to avoid the hard jut of his bone there.

"You said you quit."

Reigen leans his weight back into Serizawa, who somehow still holds himself steady on his feet. "Yeah," he says, and his voice feels a little far away. He looks down at the cigarette, held between his index and middle fingers. "I did, did I?"

They lapse into silence at that. Usually silence doesn't work well with Reigen—he always needs some sort of stimuli, something to keep him talking, moving, doing. Silence compels him to fill it. To keep himself from being left with his own devices that are his thoughts.

Now, though, Reigen lets the silence settle over them, broken only by the occasional swoosh of tires or chirps of birdsong. 

It's Serizawa who eventually speaks up again.

"Something on your mind?" he asks conversationally. Something about the way he says it reminds Reigen of himself—he wonders if Serizawa picked that up from him. Sometimes he indulges and thinks Serizawa picked up plenty of things from him.

"You know. Just..." He takes another drag, just to have something to do with himself, blows it out slowly. "stuff."

"Stuff?"

He hums. "Stuff."

"Ah." Serizawa's hold around him tightens minutely before relaxing again. It feels firmer than it did before, though. "It's one of those days, huh?"

Reigen finds himself cracking a small, private smile at that. How is it that Serizawa knows him so well?

He hums again. What more is there to say to that?

The silence stretches a little longer this time.

"We should make breakfast," Serizawa suggests, being the breaker of the silence once again.

"I thought you said you weren't the breakfast kind of guy?" And it's true—Serizawa mentioned once about not being able to eat immediately after waking up. He'd need a couple hours before being able to consume anything.

"Well..." He feels Serizawa's head loll slightly to the side, "you are," he says, simply. "And, um, this—" He gestures at the health hazard concoction and equivalent of a death wish that is his coffee and cigarette, "doesn't exactly count as breakfast, Reigen." His hand returns in its spot on his waist. And then lower, "and I know you don't like eating without company." And as if that isn't enough to make his heart swell... "Let me make you breakfast. I want to.” 

He presses back, closer. Greedy. The late November air that previously bit into his skin melts away. 

“I think we still have some eggs in the fridge,” Serizawa muses, “I can have tea, first."

Reigen turns his head slightly to meet Serizawa's eyes. He wants to say thank you, maybe I don't deserve you, and if he were a little more daring, maybe even an I love you, you know that? but as it stands, Reigen Arataka is a right, darn coward. Instead he settles for, "We... really need to go grocery shopping, huh?"

Serizawa chuckles at that, low and reverberating and slightly surprised. “Yeah, probably,” and then a grimace. “Definitely. We do.” 

Reigen chuckles back, and some of that tension in his head ebbs away. 

“Let’s get back inside?” Serizawa tilts it up at the end in his delivery to make it sound more like a question. 

“Sure. But let me just finish this—” 

His cigarette floats out of his fingers, leaving a gentle static buzz on his skin that he easily identifies as Serizawa’s aura, and the butt is quickly stubbed onto the ashtray. 

“Hey!” Reigen says, with no real bite. Serizawa gives him an apologetic smile, but there’s a hint of playfulness to it. 

“Sorry. Shall we go back inside now?” 

Reigen knows he isn’t really sorry. He rolls his eyes, but smiles back anyway. “Fine. Let’s.” 

Reigen watches as Serizawa patters about the kitchen. It’s not usual that they bother to cook on the weekends, usually relying on their usual takeout orders, but Reigen can never refuse a homemade meal. Even if said meal seemed to be plain eggs. 

He doesn’t have much of an appetite currently, but he knows Serizawa wouldn’t have that. So Reigen sits, waits, watches. He feels a little useless. 

It doesn’t take long for the restlessness to push him to his feet. He sidles up Serizawa’s side, not really knowing what to do with himself. Serizawa flashes him a quick smile before turning back to seasoning the sizzling eggs. 

He hooks a chin over Serizawa’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, Reigen deliberately drapes himself over his back, wrapping him in a hug from behind like Serizawa gave him in the balcony. 

He’s probably being less helpful now than he was before, but Serizawa doesn’t seem to complain. So he stays. 

Serizawa hums for a moment, using the spatula to check if the eggs’ undersides are cooked so he can flip them over. They aren’t. 

He sets the spatula on a clean surface, tries to find Reigen’s hand that rests on his hip. He lays a palm above his hand, holding gently. 

“So,” Serizawa says, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “Do you… need to talk?” 

Reigen considers it for a moment, stares ahead at nothing in particular. Something about this angle—the way it conceals his face—makes him feel… brave. 

“What is there to talk about?” he mutters, “I… wake up. I feel—” he gestures vaguely at himself with a free hand, “like this. That’s all there is to it, you know?” 

Serizawa, ever eternally patient, just hums. 

“Does this… happen often?” 

Reigen bites the inside of his cheek, feels the sting. He releases it. It turns into a dull ache. “Usually when winter rolls around,” he says, and it’s the truth. Winter meant the days would blur together, time would lose meaning, that haze would settle into his head to cloud his days over with something dull and empty. “It’s…” He sucks in a breath. “It’s ridiculous, you know? I didn’t even— nothing could have triggered this. I…” 

“Hey,” Serizawa admonishes him softly, “Hey, now. Arataka,” His thumb swipes softly again, halting to squeeze his hand. “none of that. It’s not ridiculous. Everybody has bad days.” 

“I know,” he says, “I know. It’s just that I…” 

There he goes, going all wistful again. 

“I just…” he shrugs, looks down at the floor. He huffs at himself. “I have you now, ‘Tsuya. And all the others. The kids, the office, hell, even Dimple. Everything’s— everything’s going well,” he says, “So, so well.” So well he doesn’t know what he’d done to ever deserve all this, if he ever did. He pulls away from the hug for a moment, eyes still on the floor. “So I don’t know why I still… I—” Serizawa squeezes his hand tighter, turns around to face him, and when Reigen sends him an appreciative look, he catches a glance at the soft gaze in his eyes. It’s almost too much for him. “I… should be more grateful, you know? For all this.” For you, goes unspoken, like many things he keeps behind clenched teeth, behind lips sealed from truth and vulnerability, too accustomed to the poison of deception. 

His shoulders slump. Something like exhaustion bleeds into him. He hasn’t even done anything. 

“I think it would help…” Serizawa says, gently, “if you maybe try counseling.” 

Reigen tilts his head with a frown. “...Me?” 

Reigen doesn’t seem like the type of person to need counseling. Serizawa, on the other hand, has been through rough patches in his life that take time to heal. It makes sense that he takes counseling. But him? 

Reigen’s just an average man. He has no tragic backstory to claim, no childhood trauma to justify himself with. He’s not the kind of man to need that sort of thing. 

“It helps to have someone… detached, to listen. Someone who isn’t, um, invested in your life. Or something like that,” he explains, “Someone impartial. Especially if they happen to be a professional who has all the tools to help you.” Serizawa seems to take a moment to arrange his words at this. “I… It helped me, anyway. Counseling. I have you, of course, and everyone else, and it’s… nice to have a support circle, but— you know. It helps. And— and I just…” Serizawa fixes him with a look so sincere it makes Reigen’s throat feel constricted. “I want to be there for you, ‘Taka. You just have to let me in. But I understand if you need… space. Not everyone’s ready for that sort of thing.” 

Reigen searches his face. And then he feels a smile bloom from his lips, even if it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, not daring to speak any louder. “I’ll— I’ll uh, consider it. Counseling, I mean.” 

Serizawa gives him one of those small, soft smiles he adores. Reigen feels his own wobble slightly, before stretching into something genuine. 

Days like this don't come as often as they used to. He’s used to dealing with them on his own, really. 

But, as he takes one look at Serizawa—

“Uh, wait. I think the eggs are burning.” 

—he realises, maybe, he doesn’t always have to deal with them alone. 

[mothgirl-number-4]

[You wake up at what you instantly know is not a good time. It is the 11th day of the 11th month and 6:12 am. Beau is still asleep.] [You get out of your gurney and put on your slippers and ponchloak. You still have your old outfit, but it's a bit charred since you last wore it.] [The layout of the House is on a sign right outside the infirmary, so you do your best to memorize it before you head out to the library.] [Left, right, right again- wait no that's the Dormont house route- turn around, right, left, straight- why is this so far away- straight again.] [You enter the library and pass the junior librarian, asleep at their desk. You watch them for a moment before heading to the back, finding exactly what you needed. A passage to a secret section of the library is open.] [You find the Housemaiden from earlier studying a book. Her brow is scrunched in a way not unfamiliar to you. It's one of the headache books, isn't it? Just your luck.] ["Hello, Housemaiden."] [She jumps before composing herself and turning to you.] "Saffron Von Raum?" […You forgot you made that up. Uh oh.] "If I'm right you aren't allowed back here." ["Are you?"] [She freezes. Got her in one.] "…This can be our secret. What do you want?" [You put all the saccharine sweetness you can into your smile.] ["Just doing some research. What's in that book of yours?"] "Well, the Head Housemaiden has been stashing some of the more… Troublesome books back here. She claims that there's no use for them, I'm here to prove her wrong." [Oh someone seeking to prove themself? You can use this.] ["Can I take a look?"] [She scoffs. Typical.] "You can try." [Oh! Okay then.] [You begin to scour the pages. This is… This is a book of medical records.] [You find at least 50 different Siff Reuns. What?] [You begin to explain this to her.] "…If what you're saying is true, then I suppose your 'Siff Reun' is equal to- ..I believe the word is inconnu."

["What's an inconnu?"] "A dead body without an identity, used as a placeholder." […Oh. Your lip twitches. You have no idea what your face looks like but it's probably not good.] "…Do you need a moment." ["I'm fine! Let's continue!"] [Cursing of Castle Chateau translation, Cookbook, oh that's!- …That's Craftology not onomy.] "What research are you doing anyway, Von Raum?" [You pause. This could be so funny.] ["How about I let you guess and tell you if you're right?"] [They smile, accepting your challenge.] [You go through a few more books, tossing back and forth some casual banter.] "Are you sure it's not… Craftonomy?" [She holds up an untranslated book with rock, paper, scissors, and a handful of other symbols on the cover.] ["Not quite but… Can I take a look at that?"] [Their smirk falls slightly, but they do hand it to you.] [It's nothing new. You understood this was a possibility but…] "Not what you wanted?" ["No. Not quite…"] [You refrain from letting the anger take over in place of an emptiness. You both head out of the secret library, better friends than before.] [You might just tolerate your last day here.] [Your… Last day. …You'll leave that to future Loop.]

[Your time is done. You're satisfied.]

[You couldn't take your role back, but that's his fault for leaving you alone. You're satisfied.]

[You're satisfied. You fade at last.]

...

[You feel a thread pulled to its limits. A fire burning hot hot hot and something breaking, failing, rotting. You gag on nothing as starlight beams out of your eyes and mouth.]

[The string pulls, choking you as you attempt to scream, but you have no mouth. You attempt to cry, but you have no eyes.]

[The thread snaps.]

[You feel a pulling in your head.]

[And you feel your heart..

p

o

p

]

[You wake up in a room. The first thing you take in is UNIMAGINABLE PAIN. You scream and scream and scream- there are footsteps. You hear the familiar sound of healing craft as the pain subsides the slightest bit. Not enough to be anywhere near comfortable, but you aren't screaming anymore.]

[You sit up, hands grasping at what you realize far too late are bedsheets. They rip in your hands, piercing craft chugging through your fingertips like the drip drip drip of blood.]

[You're already babbling apologies when]-

"Oh thank goodness you're awake, bright stranger."

[That voice. Not from the healer you don't recognize them but you turn to the neighboring bed- you're in an infirmary? -and see another stranger.]

[You recognize that accent but you don't recognize... Him?]

"[Who-]"

[You cough on your words- Vaugardian, Loop! Try again~]

[The familiar stranger looks at you with wonder.]

"Say- say that again, will you?"

"[What, 'who?']"

"No- what was that language?"

[You don't know.]

"[I don't know. Where am I?]"

[The familiar stranger- you're just going to call him the King, it's too similar to be a coincidence. You've never been lucky enough to even consider otherwise. -looks disappointed before lighting up again. His Vaugardian is rough, but understandable.]

"Ah! You're in the Bambouche house of change! Or uhm... The one closest to Bambouche I think... I couldn't really understand them the best."

[The King looks awkward. How could this pathetic whelp end up as the intimidating monster that killed- Blinding- He's speaking]

"They call me castaway, but I prefer Beau, he and him, please. What about you?"

[Oh this is hilarious. The Change god thinks its so blinding funny doesn't it. You're laughing. You're cackling and guffawing and]-

"[Siffrin, they/them, nice to meet you!]"

"Oh, like the savior?"

[What.]

[bagadew]

I genuinely do not know if Google is actually getting more and more unhelpful, or if there’s some secret hidden way of using it everyone knows but me.

Like, verbatim either doesn’t work or gives me results that are even less relevant. Putting - in front of a word doesn’t actually exclude anything. I have to try and type in at least 10 different ways of phrasing the same simple question, just for it to give me something even vaguely on topic.

At this point I genuinely feel more autistic trying to deal with this site than I do in 99% of social interactions. It feels like the damn thing’s operating on its own set of rules that it won’t let me know. Google is free but it won’t tell me shit. It nitpicks through the words I type just to grab hold of the thing that will let it make a planet sized leap away from where I’m trying to get to.

Today I wanted to find out if the snowfall in the UK is slowly getting later. It feels like it hasn’t happened in December for a long time, but my memory’s unreliable so I want to check. I know the information I want is out there. It should be really easy! I’m asking for the history of snowfall from a country I know for a fact documents this stuff!

But I have been here for almost two and a half hours now and I have turned up NOTHING! This browser is convinced I only want to talk about a White Christmas, and if I try to widen the scope to the rest of the month it springs off on a tangent where the most relevant result is an American article for holiday makers claiming that it only snows in the UK between December and February. My memory may be bad but even I know this is a lie. The best I could get was when I went fuck it and tried to go to the records directly, and that was an article where the latest date mentioned was 2010, which wasn’t useful when I’m looking for the weather statistics from within my adult life.

Like, I have to be doing something wrong right??? I swear I didn’t used to spend this much time doing research only to turn up nothing. Surely it can’t be this frustrating and useless for everyone, right???