#and i take a bunch of other stuff but nothing just. For Pain

[gideonthefirst]

do i have any nr-axspa Or AS followers. or people seeing this since i’m gonna put it in the tags. has anyone managed to get any actual prescription painkillers that actually do Shit,

[thethingything]

our current dilema is that the pain from our wisdom tooth keeps getting so bad we have to take pain meds (like it keeps hitting an 8/10 for several hours at a time. we can't not take pain meds) but the only pain meds that touch it have a warning on them saying not to take them for more than 3 days in a row, and we have at least another month of dealing with this, so I don't really know what to do.

the warning is because they're opioids and can cause addiction but I don't actually know how bad the risk is because everything seems to treat it like opioids are the worst thing ever and should be avoided at all costs and you'll get addicted if you so much as glance at them.

either way, my options are to either keep taking them and just accept that risk, or deal with being in so much pain I can't function. even with taking the pain meds I can tell we're a lot more irritable and short tempered and probably just insufferable to be around honestly and I hate the fact that pain causes this, but once again we've got to deal with this for over a month and we've also got to deal with the anxiety over what the treatment for it is going to actually involve.

I've had to deal with medical trauma stuff I didn't even know about until like yesterday when Lucy suggested it might be part of why I feel so shit, and I've had multiple panic attacks per day and constantly feel way more anxious than usual and I get the feeling we're just gonnaa have to put up with this for the next month and I don't know how the fuck I'm meant to cope with any of this

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through. 

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.  

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest. 

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes. 

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’. 

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him. 

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain. 

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death. 

David Rossi 

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?” 

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close. 

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded. 

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it. 

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.” 

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up. 

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force. 

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is. 

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened. 

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance. 

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat. 

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you. 

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.” 

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him. 

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it. 

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public. 

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do. 

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this. 

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her. 

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable. 

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected. 

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it. 

JJ

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace. 

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it. 

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest. 

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir. 

��Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”   

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed. 

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia 

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly. 

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment. 

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home. 

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you. 

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building. 

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.” 

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him. 

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep. 

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing. 

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case. 

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him. 

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in. 

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby. 

Masterlist

[lucimaaie]

we ✧.* tlou

pairings - santa barbara!ellie x reader

summary - ellie promised herself she wouldn’t get attached to anyone after santa barbara, look how that turned out.

warning - angsty, not proofread cause i wrote this pretty quick, short (as always),

After Santa Barbara, Ellie had no plan for the future. She’d left Dina and JJ and let Abby go. She knew would still have nightmares and the pain wouldn’t leave her. What else was there to do?

Maybe that was the reason she fought you as you tried to take care of her. “Leave me alone!” She said as you’d tried to help her up from the water, raising her arm around your neck. Thinking about it now, the memory of her weak attempt to tussle you made her laugh.

You fought as hard as she did despite being starved and traumatized yourself. She didn’t know your story, just that you were the only one who didn’t want to kill her as soon as you came out of that crowded cell. You knew that she was immune and that was it. Nothing else was important in the moment. Nothing she wanted to tell you anyway.

You took care of her so much she started to feel guilty for not returning the favor. Cleaning her wounds, taking first watch, giving her whatever food you two had left. Ellie questioned whether it was pity or too good to be true, that you’d try something the moment she relaxed. But as she got stronger, nothing bad happened. You cared for her all the same.

So she cared for you. She watched your back and let you sleep a bit longer since she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She held you the way you held her when she awoke screaming. Gave you light kisses everywhere to distract you (and her) from a haunting past she knew nothing of. Conversations weren’t your speciality. You didn’t know a lot about each other, but you knew each other.

Eventually, you got lucky and found an abandoned cabin far away from Santa Barbara and quickly settled in. It wasn’t big and there was one bed, but it was shelter. Ellie didn’t want to call it home just yet.

“We should move south.” Ellie blurted, shaking the snow off her boots onto the porch. She could already hear your lecture about letting the cold in, but that wasn’t her focus. Did she just say we? “I mean, nevermind. Here’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was cold as hell and she was tired of the cold she’d been in her whole life.

“No, why south?” You said as you adjusted the small sticks that provided at least a little warmth in the small space. Ellie came to sit down next to you, leaving no space between you. She looked at you, admiring how the orange light shone on your face.

“It’s hotter.” She held your gaze as you listened intently. “Probably make hunting easier.” Ellie knocked her shoulder into yours without much force.

“You ever been south?”

She shrugged before shaking her head. “Nope.” She looked at the fire. That might be a downside of south. No more needing to snuggle up to you to not freeze to death. South you probably have to give each other some space to cool off. “Was just a thought.” She scratched her ear. “What’d you do while I was out?”

“Counted our supply. put on the fire. cleaned our clothes. a bunch of nothing.”

“What about eating?”

“uh-no. forgot that part.”

“Course you did.” She sighed, rising to her feet and look around for the bag you two stuff all cans in. All your belongings in the cabin were generally pre-packed in case you had to run, but still the fact that you’d been able to accumulate these things together made her feel something she couldn’t describe. Annoyance was part of it. that she got so attached to you after she promised herself she wouldn’t. that it just complicated things. But that already happened the moment you’d kissed and let things go further.

“here.” She used her knife to open the can of beans and sat back next to you, handing them over.

“you do know we sleep in the same bed, right?” You hesitantly took the can and swished them around with the spoon.

“trust me i know, but i don’t need you losing body fat and clinging to me like a koala.”

“you’ve never even seen a koala.” You said, taking a bite of the beans. not bad but not good and most importantly not expired. You set the can down in the middle of you, signaling that you wanted to share. She shook her head and sighed as you pushed the can closer to her, your eyes saying ‘please.’ She took a small bite just to appease you and shoved it over to you. “just shut up and eat.” she swiped her thumb over the edge of your lip. “and stop eating like that. we’ll get you more food tomorrow.”

Hours later, ellie shot up in the middle of the night, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She choked on her own breaths as she buried her head into her knees. “it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real—“ She mumbled the same words you did when you saw her like this.

“ellie?” You sat up as well, watching her with concerned eyes. She started to sob as she heard your voice, whether out of fear or relief you didn’t know but you didn’t give it much thought as you ran your fingers through her hair, letting her cry in your lap.

Eventually her tears stopped, leaving her with a pounding head and the comforting silence you provided. Her head rose from your lap and she pulled you into her, not willing to let go. Her head rested on your shoulder as her hands roamed under your shirt. There were no words for a while.

When there were words, they came quietly. “el?” you whispered. She didn’t respond for a while, still stuck in her swarming thoughts. “yeah?”

“where are you from?” It felt like a random question to ask, but there was no way you were gonna ask what she dreamed about.

She blinked for a few seconds, surprised. It was a simple question, yeah, but it could lead to other questions. she was scared to answer and ask back. “boston, i guess.”

“oh.”

“why’d you ask?” She let her head fall back on the pillow and tugged on your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around. And you did, facing her.

“i guess i just realized i never knew that stuff about you.” You said, fidgeting with her hands as you awaited her response. It felt like some dangerous territory, you weren’t supposed to cross. That was weird, you already crossed other, farther lines. “should i have not asked?” You whispered, tentatively.

“no, you..” She cleared her throat. “you can ask.” She finally looked at you, eyes soft with fear, pain. “i just..i don’t wanna talk about it all.”And go back there, she wanted to say.

“you don’t have to.” You scooted closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder.

Elie wrapped her arms around your back, her legs around yours, and looked at you. She let out a deep sigh as her heart beat for a different reason this time. “we don’t have to talk about it all. not right now.” we, there was a we. she wasn’t making it up. “okay,” She kissed your forehead.

thank you for reading!

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: jeon wonwoo

best friends to lovers

'and i was so scared to destroy it that i forgot that destruction leaves the door for something new to be built'

'okay, let's go over the list again. phone chargers and headphones?'

wonwoo tries and fails to act annoyed; he's mostly endlessly endeared by your love for all kind of check lists and your diligence in going over them at least three times. he doesn't even try to point out that bags were packed under your supervision yesterday - he's not strong enough to withstand your pouty face and he also knows how restless you get if you don't check everything again. so, he bites inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling like a fool and declares: 'chargers and headphones are here. what's next?'

wonwoo indulges you for the next twenty minutes, checks every single item from your list and doesn't look even a tiny bit mad when you two finish. his patience towards you has no limits, just like his desire to soothe your worries and help you feel peaceful. he zips both bags, when you sigh in relief and plop right next to him on the ground, leaning on his shoulder casually. 'thanks, woo. i know it must've been annoying, but i was anxious.'

careful not to disturb you, wonwoo moves closer to the wall to lean on it. 'it's nothing. if to ease your anxiety i have to pack and repack these bags ten times, i'd do it, you know it.'

there's a beat of silence and then your hand wraps lightly around his. 'yeah, i know.'

and you do know. it's probably one the most amazing feelings in the world - to be this assured in another person. you cannot bet on yourself, but you can bet on wonwoo when it comes to being your best friend. he's your pillar of strength, your constant support, your closest person. you never thought it's possible to be this sure in someone and yet. you never question wonwoo because he never gave you reasons to; his loyalty to you is like a pledge he wears on his skin proudly, shows it off to everyone if they ask. earth is round, sky is blue and jeon wonwoo is always there for you. it could've been so, so good if only it didn't make you want to cry.

'hey, don't fall asleep on me. you know your neck will hurt and i didn't pack that gel which always helps ease up the stiffness,' he says gently.

wonwoo is always gentle. it's not really in his nature, but by default it's how he is with you. how can he not be? you're a flower in his eyes and only gentleness and care will help you flourish (which is the only thing he wants for you). his fingers itch with desire to hold you gently as well, to cradle you in his arms and keep you safe and loved but he ignores it. wonwoo is really good at ignoring a lot of his feelings towards you, because flowers can only take gentleness and there's nothing gentle in his feelings. no, his feelings for you are close to forces of the nature in their strengths: unstoppable, uncontrollable, all-consuming. wonwoo is so gentle with you, how can he let you know that his chest is doing a god's work every time, not letting his feelings slip? they can come out and envelop you whole, leave nothing to anyone else and he.. is not like that. can't be like that with you.

'you also started getting neck pains?' you ask, lifting your head from his shoulder. you look worried, searching for something on his face.

'no, i usually carry that gel for you.' wonwoo answers easily, shrugging it off. 'just like other bunch of stuff.'

silence settles again. lately, silence started to settle much more often between you two and while usually it's a good companion, this specific kind of silence hangs heavy. this silence is filled with unspoken words and hesitance, it's charged with tension which none of you dare to break. everything always comes to its' boiling point and you can't help but think that your friendship with wonwoo is hanging by a thread and you can't tell which way it should fall: to the left, where everything will be left exactly as it is right now or to the right, where you'll be in the new territory of confessed feelings? and wonwoo feels it too, can barely sleep this last month due to this heaviness in his heart, which refuses to carry the weight of unspoken love anymore. it's funny how he never really looked for love; when you came, he also didn't look for it. but then time passed and he realized that he's not looking for love anymore not because he's not interested, but because he found it long time ago.

'will we...' you start, taking a deep breath. god, if there's anyone for who you are ready to fall, it's wonwoo. '...talk about it? about this elephant in the room?'

wonwoo's breath hitches. seconds tick away and they last for eternity, making you think that time stopped at some moment. overthinking spiral starts to draw you in, when he voices out: 'which elephant in the room? the one about me being in love with you for longer than i can remember or the one where you never gave back any of my hoodies?'

wonwoo watches as your eyes widen and how your mouth opens and then closes in shock. he watches how you collect yourself, internally applauds himself for not freaking out and keeping that beast called love inside of his chest for now.

'i- the first one.' you mutter, shaking a little. 'definitely the first one and you can also add info on why you never said anything.'

will you understand? will you get that he was actually trying to shelter you from his selfish side? will you accept that his love is too big, too real, too much for someone as delicate as you? that he held himself back for your own sake? his hesitance spurs you to take his hand in his and squeeze it gently. 'tell me. i will understand. you are my best friend, woo. first and foremost - you are my best friend.'

'and then?' he grunts, barely forcing his tongue to move.

you smile and hope grows in his chest. 'and then my boyfriend. my one and only. do you like the sound of that?'

does he like it? god, do you even know what you do to him? beast inside doesn't roar to his surprise; no, it curls up in satisfaction instead, finally calming down. oh. oh. 'i like the sound of that very much,' he musters the courage to say.

maybe he was wrong about his beast all this time. maybe his feelings never meant harm, maybe they can not only destroy, but plant something else instead. you lean in and oh, wonwoo gets it. his feelings were meant to plant more flowers, pretty flowers. just like you.

a/n: if you think that this somewhere along the way turned into something else then you'd be right, but i couldn't stop and i'm posting this anyway. let me know what you think! - nini

my other works are here

[moonstruckme]

Hi mae! I love eveything you write!! Kind of in a similar vein to doctor!remus i wanted to request poly!marauders where they are emt’s and they respond to a call where reader is injured and when they arrive to help reader is just super flustered and shy because there are three very sweet and attractive and charming men she doesn’t know taking care of her

Thanks lovely!

part 1 | part 2

Cw: car accident aftermath, concussion, blood, and definitely some smutty implications but nothing that would fluster your grandmother, also maybe don’t read if medical inaccuracies will piss you off because I can almost guarantee this is riddled with them (I am but a girl)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

Someone else must have called emergency services, because the first thing you hear is sirens. Your car is smoky—that can’t be safe, can it?—and you ache, and the shaking of your hands makes them frustratingly inefficient at undoing the buckle of your seatbelt. 

The sirens get louder and then stop. The ruckus you can hear but not see outside of your smashed windshield increases, and there’s a warm wetness on your face, getting in your eyes. You reach up to swipe at it. The door next to you opens. 

“Hi.” A curly mop of hair attached to a smiling face pops in your driver’s door. “How we doing?” 

You inhale shakily. “All right.” 

His grin goes lopsided, brown eyes skimming over your form. “Well, at least you’ve got a good attitude. We’re gonna get you out of here in just a second, but first can you tell me what’s hurting you?” 

You blink. Things seem to be moving oddly slowly. Every inch of you trembles. “Is my car going to blow up?” 

The paramedic’s eyebrows raise. You hear something on your opposite side but can’t be bothered to look. “We don’t think so. Are you asking because of the powder?” 

He must mean the smoky stuff swirling about your car. You try to nod, but it hurts, and the man puts a gloved hand to your neck to stop you. 

“No no, don’t move,” he cautions. 

“That’s just powder from the airbags,” a voice on your other side says, and the paramedic makes a small sound of protest when you turn your head to find it. There’s another one leaning in the open door on your passenger side. He’s got fluffy brown hair lighter than the first’s and a large scar on one side of his face which stretches as his eyebrows bunch. “Can you tell us what hurts, please?” 

“My head,” you answer, bringing a quivering hand to your breastbone. “A—and my chest.” 

“No pain in your neck or back?” The first, darker paramedic asks, and when you confirm he nods approvingly. “Well, some of that might come later, but that’s good enough for now. All right, sweetheart, do you think you can stand?” 

“Yeah,” you say, sounding uncertain even to your own ears. He grasps your forearm in one hand while wrapping another around your back, helping you out of your seat. 

As soon as you’re through the door there’s another set of gloved hands on your opposite arm. You look up to see a third man, slighter than the others, helping the first carry you a short distance to a gurney. 

And daylight is something else. Your head and chest hurt worse than before, but it doesn’t help that you very nearly stop breathing when you take in the sight of the three paramedics who have surrounded you. 

“Can you tell us what you remember from the accident?” The second one, the one who’d come through your passenger door—you can see in the sunlight that he has more scars than just the one, though he’s no less beautiful for it—asks. There’s a gentleness to the set of his brows as he frowns at you, pressing something to your forehead. 

A policeman makes to approach you, and the curly-headed one turns, taking on a sternness that doesn’t suit him as he wards the other man off with a hand and a few quiet words. 

“Hey.” The scarred paramedic brings your attention back to him. “Do you know what happened?”

“I…” Fuck, you can’t tell if you’re woozy from whatever’s happening with your head or just the attention from the three of them. They’re moving you, other people and cars passing in your periphery as they wheel the gurney towards an ambulance. “I wrecked my car?” 

The third paramedic laughs, the sound sharp and crisp despite the general fuzziness surrounding you. He’s got longish, inky black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “It’s not a trick question, dollface. And the state of your car isn’t really what we’re worried about right now.” 

“Sirius,” the scarred one chides. You think distantly that Sirius is an odd name. Unique and pretty-sounding. “Do you remember if you fell asleep, love?” 

You want to shrink away from his attentive stare, but his hand on your forehead holds you in place. “I’m not sure,” you say. “Was there—are the people in the other car okay?” 

“Pretty sure she was just waking up when I got to her,” the first paramedic says, curls bouncing slightly as he stations himself by your feet and helps lift the gurney into the back of the ambulance. “Yeah, sweetheart, everyone else is alright. Might be a bit sore tomorrow, but signing refusals of treatment as we speak. Do you feel sick?” 

Actually, maybe it’s the speed of the conversation that’s making you woozy. “No?” 

“Well, that’s reassuring,” he jokes. “That’s okay, just let us know if you do.” He flashes you another dazzling smile.

You think you might return it, but then light hits your eyes and you wince instead. 

“You’re okay,” the dark haired one—Sirius, you remember—reassures you. “I’m just going to shine this in your eyes really quickly. Try to keep them open for me?” 

You do your best, and he works swiftly as promised, flashing the bright white beam into one eye and then the other before clicking it off with a gentle pat to your knee. 

“Definitely concussed,” he says to the other two. Excellent.

“Okay, I’m just going to close this up for now,” the scarred one explains, voice low and soothing as he removes whatever he’s been holding to your head. “It looks like you’ll need stitches, but I need to stop the bleeding until we can get those done, yeah? It might feel like little pinches.” 

“Okay,” you say, voice embarrassingly shaky from the tender way he’s holding your head in his hands. “Thank you.”

He smiles. The effect is dizzying, scars pulling taut as the severity melts from his features. “You’re welcome, lovely,” he says softly. “How’d this happen, then? Did you hit your head on the steering wheel?” 

You try to remember. “I guess so. I’m…not sure.” 

“That’s okay,” Sirius promises you. “James, can you check out that chest pain while I get a pulse?” 

The first one, who hasn’t seemed to stop smiling despite what you consider a fairly grim circumstance—though you imagine it might be run-of-the-mill in his line of work—steps to your side. The three of them move around each other so fluidly, like they can anticipate the other’s movements. Practice, you suppose. “All right, darling,” he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a self-assuredness you can’t relate to, and your face warms in response, “do you mind if I move your top down a bit so I can have a look?” 

You feel suddenly lightheaded. You try to nod, but the scarred one tsks at you, holding your head still with lithe fingers as he works on your cut. Thankfully, James seems to catch your meaning anyway. He’s exceedingly gentle as he wraps his fingers around the neckline of your top, pulling it into a V in the center of your chest. You follow it down with your gaze. The red line that stretches diagonally across the flat of your chest feels somewhat anticlimactic considering the deep ache that emanates from it, but James hisses sympathetically. 

“Ow,” Sirius agrees. “Yeah, looks like the seatbelt got you.” 

You try very, very hard not to think about how they’re all looking at your naked chest, all speaking to you so kindly, all touching you in their different ways. If you think too hard about any of it, you might actually die. 

“Tell me if this hurts, alright?” James looks at you before pressing down lightly with his palm. 

You start to gasp from the pain but then that hurts even worse, and your face scrunches in agony.

“Sorry, sorry.” He removes his hand hastily, putting your top back in place. “All done with that, love. It hurts when you breathe in, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you affirm croakily. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says again, touching your shoulder with an apologetic smile. You’d never been mad, but you go ahead and forgive him anyway for looking at you so sweetly. “I’m going to feel if your ribs are broken, okay? I won’t push down again.” 

You don’t have the breath to give an assent and he doesn’t wait for one, slipping a large palm under your shirt—what you wouldn’t give to have that happen under different circumstances—and feeling about your sides tenderly. 

The scarred paramedic’s touch lifts from your forehead. “Okay, that’s all set. Let’s get you out of here, hm?”

“You driving, Rem?” Sirius asks, and you notice he’s finished taking your pulse but hasn’t let go of your hand, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist soothingly. 

“Mhm,” the scarred one—Rem—replies, putting away some supplies. “Did you confirm she’s in shock?”

“Yup.”

“Start an IV,” Rem instructs, and Sirius scoffs like yeah, I know and waves him off. You almost laugh at the easy familiarity of it. 

“Why do you think I’m in shock?” you ask as Rem hops out the back, presumably going to the driver’s side. 

Sirius softens. “Your pulse is a riot, pretty girl. Plus, you’re shaking like a leaf and you’ve gone a tiny bit blue” —he taps your lips with his forefinger— “right here.” 

You could pass out now. That’d be alright with you. 

James straightens, having already run his fingers probingly over both your sides. “Alright, we might have a couple of small fractures, but nothing too dire. Can I see your arm, love?” 

You give it to him unthinkingly, but tense when he starts feeling about the soft crook of your elbow with overly kind fingers. You’d think the effect of his touch would have diminished after he’d finished feeling you up underneath your shirt, but evidently not. 

“You’re okay.” Sirius mistakes your shyness for nervousness about the IV, wrapping his fingers around your chin and turning you gently to face him. His cupid bow flattens when he gives you a small smile and a shorter piece of his dark hair has slipped free of its confines, brushing his cheekbone. “You’re okay, doll. Jamie’s a pro, yeah? Just keep your eyes on me.” 

Well, if he’s gonna insist. 

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

[frankieburieshisdead]

ℬ𝓇𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃ℯ 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ ℳℴ𝒹ℯ𝓁 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

cw: NSFW

~ You liked modeling enough. It was exciting, and new, and you got to meet a bunch of people you otherwise wouldn't. For instance, if you could go back to the skinny, slightly effeminate brace face in rural Smallsville and tell him he would be hanging off the Bruce Wayne's arm at a promotional after party in Gotham he would laugh in your face. But here you were, and here he was, all 6ft (6'7? 6'8? God he was intimidating) wrapped around your shoulders, two of the girls from the shoot on his other side. You didn't know either of them very well, but they we're kind to you whenever you crossed paths, and it was always nice to see more black models in the industry.

~ So why did you feel so much vitriol towards them? This ugly feeling curling in your stomach every time Wayne leaned slightly towards them, slightly away from you. You chopped it up to star power, pure unadulterated charm that came with being one of the richest men in the Americas, but as long as it had been, you still remembered what it was like it have a crush.

~ It was hard to not have a crush on Bruce Wayne. He was confident, ridiculously so, but not the kind of confidence that made you feel small. When you arrived, he asked you "Do you like dark chocolate? I can't stand the stuff but for some reason people keep giving it to me." You could see he was lying, and that maybe he had just wanted to give you an expensive box of chocolate without making you feel like you owed him anything. It made you feel special.

~ It didn't take him long to invite the whole party back to his manor. His home was beautiful. Like a castle in one of the picture books your gran used to let you borrow from her job at the library. You told Bruce that, and he had smiled so genuinely you hadn't stopped blushing for the rest of the night.

~ You ended up asking yourself up to his bedroom. One of the bottle girls had popped the cork right over you, drenching your pants in sparkling cider. She had been so apologetic, and you hadn't wanted to make a scene, so you stumbled up the stairs in into the nearest unlocked door you could find. You closed the door behind you, stripping out of your soaked jeans to dab them clean in the joining bathroom.

~ "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to say it's not everyday I find pretty boys stripping out their clothes unprompted in my bedroom." You must have jumped about a foot in the air, hiding behind your thread bare trousers. "Oh god Mr. Wayne I'm so sorry, I just needed- there was this champagne girl- and well-"

"Relax, I'm just teasing." You looked at him properly now, his weary tone bleeding past your initial embarrassment. He was propped up against the bedpost, shirtless with one hand clamped firmly over his ribs. There was a mean purple blotch under his fingers, and his chest rose and fell in stutters. He was in pain.

"What happened?" You were across the room the next second, pants forgotten on the floor as you scooted next to him in your briefs. There was a slight blush across his chest and cheeks. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe you were.

"Got into... a brawl. Nothing serious don't worry." You got the feeling he liked that you were worried. You wondered how many people worried about Bruce Wayne. You had seen an older man in butler attire fussing over him when the party first got here. You hoped he was looked after.

"Well... I best get going." You were inches apart now, you could feel his harsh breath against your top lip.

"Best." He replied, curling his lip to mirror your Midwestern accent.

You fell into him first, crashing your lips against his as his arms came to grip your biceps. He lifted you with an insane show of strength, you squealed into his mouth, ending off in a giggle. He gave that genuine smile again.

~ You were straddling him now, grinding down on a ever hardening length. He gasped into your mouth, squeezing almost painfully as he pressed you firmer against him. He was massaging the v on your waist, teasing just above where you wanted him.

"Can I?"

You nodded manically against his shoulder, the both of you generating a frantic energy. He dipped down, palming you through your underwear.

"Protection?" You managed to pant out, remembering every talk your granny had drilled into you since you came out.

"Bedside drawer."

~ 3 hours. You kept going for 3 hours after that. He had taken you, knees pressed up against your shoulders, hitting all the right spots until you had come dry and untouched. He was still hard inside you, panting and you squeezed your way through your orgasm. He was kind, clearly straining to not thrust forward while you were so sensitive. You hooked your legs behind the dip in his waist and tugged him forward. A dare. The result of which had you on your hands and knees panting and keening after your third, fourth? climax. He was good afterwards as well. Sweet. He held your head up as he poured water from a sealed bottle down your throat, petting through your slim locs. You woke up tucked against his side, unsure if he had even slept a wink as he stared down at you. He had to go, but he had arranged one of the cars for you as soon as you wanted to leave. The butler, Alfred, had cleaned and dried your jeans while you were asleep, although Bruce had made it clear you were welcome to his extensive wardrobe. You giggled, imagining getting back to your apartment in a pair of 1000$ tracksuit pants with the ankles rolled up to your calves.

~ When you finally made it back to your apartment, you patted down your jeans, pleading to whoever was listening that you hadn't lost your keys in the chaos of the previous night. Instead, you pulled out a neatly folded parchment paper, thumbing it open to find barely legible handwriting reading:

555-0199

Call me if you liked the chocolate.

END

[vivwritesfics]

And now on to my first request 🙈

The dream I had was very vague and context was nonexistent so this is me trying to piece it together and make it make sense for a fic

Arranged marriage with Danny ricc😍 I guess mafia would work best with this? But either way is fine. not too long after the marriage so they’re still pretty awkward and shy with each other. Perhaps they’ve got slight googly eyes for each other but not obvious and he’s a sweetheart not trying to force anything.

Randomly one day she realizes she almost out of pads and it’s the heaviest day of her period😳 if it’s mafia I guess she could have asked one of the workers to buy some but she felt awkward so asked him to pick up some on the way home and he’s super nice and gets a whole goody basket filled with a bunch of stuff😩 and then cuz her cramps are so bad they cuddle for the first time🙉🙉 maybe him rubbing her belly and back are too fast but idk I’m just in need of some hardcore fluff rn����😭 (the way I got off my period a few days ago and yet still can’t get this out of my head) (I had another idea as a continuation of this but forgot 😭😭) (sorry if this makes no sense 💀)

-🤠

cowboy, my love, i'm so sorry this took me so damn long. I was gonna save it for a potential series but I can't commit to another series rn lmao

Warnings: Period

Daniel Ricciardo didn't love his wife. That was upsetting, wasn't it? He had a wife and he didn't love her.

It wasn't that he married a girl he once loved and then fell out of love with her. No, he was never in love with her. He didn't even have a chance to fall in love before he was placing that ring on her finger.

Things were awkward between the two of them. That was bound to happen, though. As much as they wanted to, it was so damn difficult. Daniel was a busy man, being Max Verstappen's lackey.

So, they tried to make life work. There were a few short conversations before he was rushing off to do whatever work Max needed him to do.

There was one night where he walked into the house they shared. Daniel expected her to be asleep in the room she had to herself. She didn't know that Daniel often checked on her when he came back late from work, taking comfort in the fact that she was still there, was still okay.

This time, though, she was asleep on the sofa. The television had turned off after a couple of hours of inactivity and she was holding a cushion close to her chest.

Daniel put his things down. He shrugged off his jacket and carefully walked closer to her. He brushed some hair away from her forehead and scooped her into his arms.

She stayed asleep, face pressed against his chest as Daniel carried her to bed. He laid her down and pulled the blankets up to her chin before he backed out of the room. Sparing one last glance at her, he left her there.

They never addressed this little moment. If she was even aware of it, Daniel wasn't sure.

But then her period came around. It wasn't her first period since they'd been married. But this time, she had nothing. No pads, no tampons, no painkillers. (No sweet treats to ease her hormonal woes.)

There were staff in the house that she could have asked, but they hadn't spoken two words to her since the wedding. Well, that wasn't true. Mrs Mulch had marched into her room on several occasions to shout at her while giving her dinner.

That left one person she could call. Holding her cramping abdomen, she held her phone up to her ear as it rang.

"Hey," said Daniel when he picked up. "Are you okay?" She hadn't called him before; he'd started to wonder if he'd even given her his number. This was actually quite a relief.

"Daniel," she whispered, voice pained.

Panic flooded him. "What's wrong, honey?" He asked quickly, voice hushed just in case she was in danger.

She let out another cry, and it was like being stabbed in the heart. "I... my period," she sobbed.

He released a breath. She wasn't in danger; she was just on her period. Fuck, that was such a damn relief.

"Talk to me, honey."

Honey, when had he started calling her that? And why did it make her insides feel all gooey? "Danny, I-I used all of my pads last month and I've got nothing in the house and I've got no painkillers and I'm really craving chocolate."

She said it all so quickly that Daniel had a hard time keeping up. But he had it, and he was going to do what he could for his wife.

Apologising to Max, he left work and jumped into his car. Daniel sped through traffic with little regard for the law (something he didn't have to worry about when they were in Max's pocket). Daniel parked himself outside of the store, climbed out of the car and grabbed a basket as he headed inside.

Daniel bought enough pads to stock her up for a year (he thought, at least) and snacks. Chocolate and junk food, anything she could want while she was on her period.

But he forgot the damned painkillers.

Paying and rushing back to the car, Daniel made his way back to the house.

He walked towards her, laying on the leather couch as she put pressure on her abdomen. But it was doing so little to ease the pain. "Oh, honey," Daniel whispered as he walked over to her and dropped to his knees in front of her. He brushed her hair away from her sweaty forehead and brushed away the tears staining her cheeks.

He took her hand and helped her up. "Come on," He said gently, picking up the shopping bag and pulling her towards the bathroom.

Handing her the pads, Daniel left her in the bathroom. He put the snacks away in their respective cupboards and emptied a packet of chocolates into a bowl.

"Daniel," she began as she walked towards him. She seemed a lot more comfortable now that she wasn't... free flowing. "Did you get the painkillers?"

His face dropped. "Shit, honey, I'm so sorry," he said. "I completely forgot."

He went to move through the house, to get his keys and drive out to get some for her. But, before he could, she grabbed his arm. "Please stay," she squeaked.

Daniel gave a nod. He opened his arms and she fell against him. This was the closest they'd ever been, and Daniel loved it. He kissed the top of her head and walked her towards the couch.

He sat down and she sat with him. Taking one of his hands, she placed it on her abdomen and let out a sigh. They were big and warm and the way he moved his thumb over her skin was so damn soothing. "Thank you, Danny," she whispered and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He ran his free hand through her hair. "No problem, honey."

[weenwrites]

hiiiii! I was hoping you could do headcanons for the decepticons (any of your choice) and how they would react to finding out that a young human has somehow got onto the nemesis (nobody knows how and nobody ever will🥸) and started causing trouble, like stealing stuff for their little hoard and drawing on the walls. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but I hope you do 😊

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]:

Soundwave

As the "eyes and ears" of the Decepticons, almost nothing escapes his watchful gaze, save for you. He doesn't know how you've managed it, but you've gone ahead and made yourself a cosy little home somewhere within the confines of the ventilation system and even mocked him with these nonsensical scribbles on the walls.

He doesn't miss the way vehicons poke fun at him now that a pesky little human has somehow slipped his watch, and though you prove no serious threat to them, even Megatron finds himself a tad disappointed with the blatant deterioration in Soundwave's skills. First a human, then what? Are they going to start missing Autobot intruders stalking the halls?

Soundwave resolves to handle this himself, as now he has a personal vendetta to deal with on top of proving himself still worthy of his position to his lord and master.

Megatron

He's found humans to be quite the interesting bunch, a true mixed bag. On one hand those pests that the Autobots risk their lives to protect have been one of the biggest pains to the Decepticons, but on the other hand, CYLAS wasn't all that impressive once he ran out of assets to use. Yet you've proven yourself to be resourceful, relying only on your own skills to evade the watchful eye of one of the most skilled members of the Decepticons.

Were you on the Autobot side, you could've proven to be a concerning inside-threat, and that's where it hits him. Weaponizing a human in a more under-handed manner is something the Decepticons haven't tried yet. He issues word to the entire Nemesis to capture you upon sight, yet he's not exacting holding out hope that no one's killed you yet, nor is this idea of his worth getting too excited for.

Shockwave

You may have gotten a little too cocky. Shockwave may lose himself to his research and projects at times, but the moment he's aware of his surroundings it doesn't take long for him to pinpoint what's out of place. One of his rotary carvers are missing, one of the vent covers are missing a few screws, and that drawing on the inside of one of the table's legs isn't as discreet as you'd think.

It's clear there's a pest running amok. Nothing worth reporting to Megatron, and nothing to linger over for too long. He simply rigs one of his tools with a rudimentary trap, not his best work but it's not as if you're worth anything fancy. He leaves it out and walks away without sparing it another thought.

You were none the wiser and practically fell straight for it. It looked unassuming too, it looked as if it had fallen off the edge of the table and he had forgotten about it, so no one could really blame you. But the moment the trap was sprung, your limbs were bound yet no one came.

The other Decepticons know better than to poke and prod around in Shockwave's laboratory, or anywhere he turns into his general working area. And Shockwave was either busy with a long-term project that would take days to complete, or just knew to spend his time on more productive pursuits than checking the trap every now and then. Either way, it took around 2 days before Shockwave came to check on his trap.

Even upon seeing that he caught something, he paid you little mind, let alone acknowledged you in the slightest. He simply shoved you into the hands of some vehicon and asked them to "dispose of the waste in the incinerator".

[narfin-frood]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your art, and I just wanted to know, did you study the WOY art style? I'm asking because the way you draw each character, Hater especially, is so expressive! Do you have any tips with expressions? Thank you!

thank you so much!! and to kinda answer your question: while what i do is, technically, studying, that's not what it feels like. i genuinely just enjoy looking at character sheets. a lot of the time they'll include little notes about things you wouldn't think about unless you're told to, like wander's eyes typically angling towards each other at the bottom or sylvia's eyes obscuring the full width of her neck.

(i have any one of these open in my reference panel almost always! not only are these full of tips & tricks for your everyday sketching, they're full of rules for each character, which are meant to be broken in interesting and fun ways.)

[im gonna pack a bunch of other, tangentially related tips and tricks and thoughts into the readmore, including my personal breakdown of hater's expressions specifically, so feel free to give it a click. long post ahead]

a lot of stuff can be picked up by just watching the cartoon as many times as you want. i have watched every episode (minus big fucking baby episode, which i hate) like 6 times over, sometimes more (looking at you the rager), and that has definitely solidified my wander over yonder visual library.

also, wander over yonder's art style already fits in with the way i draw, because i LOVEE long curvy lines and super crisp & clear silhouettes!!

as for why/how i get hater so expressive.... that mainly has to do with the fact that i think he's So Cute. He's So Cute and i wanna Squash Him. and his character design reflects that!!!

his hood is his eyebrow and his eyes may or may not be rolling around in their sockets, and his nose is a little upside down heart. but all of the lord hater emotion is stored in the chin. lord hater has a bunch of specific and VERY malleable options for mouth shapes, depending on what makes the expression and lipsync look clearest.

you can keep it super simple, with a clear divide between his top and bottom jaw, and do several round bumps for teeth, which they do a lot when tweening, like this:

this kind of seems to be his default state, depending heavily on the episode and when it was made and who was drawing him the most, of course.

you can also keep his jaw and skull distinct, but keep his teeth straight and flush with each other, which helps for sharper expressions, esp. anger or frustration, but can also work for a good "squee". he also sometimes pouts so hard his chin eats his mouth, which is, again, cute.

if you're having trouble keeping an expression clear while also maintaining the distinction between his jaw and the rest of his skull, it's pretty common also to forego most of the overt skeleton bits, save for a few hatch marks to indicate teeth (sometimes squiggles or bumps, when he's yelling about it). in my head i affectionately refer to this style of hater expression as the "peanut sans"

none of these convey the intensity of emotion you're looking for? fear not, you can also always just go Full Skeleting. and give his teeth a full outline. this is great for Pain and Strain and Nefariousness.

and then there are a million expressions in between and possibilities within these parameters beyond your wildest belief. nothing should hold you back from a really fucked-up lord hater expression. not proportion. not structure. ESPECIALLY not symmetry. please. make his chin bigger. make his head bigger. make one eye bigger. make him look in two different directions. scrunch his nose up. whatever it takes. by all means. i implore you to have fun

(honorable mention. his W face. the face when he says the consonant W. sometimes OO. i'm. obsessed. with it . he looks. kity)

anyway. lord hater tangent aside. i could also share my own process for expressions, but it really just hinges on what looks appealing/what i like the most/what communicates the emotion i want to communicate the clearest, and it varies between characters and people.

it helps to, again, build your visual library, and look at lots and lots of funny faces, both in real life and in cartoons you like. make funny faces in the mirror and try to focus on what parts of your face change shape or interact with other parts of your face when you do something like smile really wide or drop your jaw. your skin is taut, and there's a bunch of muscle and fat attached to your bones, so when one big bone moves, a bunch of muscles and fat under the surface will shift around too, and understanding that relationship is really helpful in the long run, both for drawing real people and for drawing cartoons.

and the easiest way to retain information like that is to have fun while you study. stop thinking of it as studying and start thinking of it as gathering information on this thing you like a lot and want to do more of, like when you scroll through someone's account to look at all their art, and just. do more of that. do more exploring and observing. since animation is my special interest, this part is pretty easy for me, but it does still take practice to get into that mindset, especially when you convince yourself you have to be super strict and rigid to make it in the art world. focus on drawing and observing what makes YOU happy first, and everything else will follow.

and don't worry about taking notes. don't worry about remembering everything you look at. just look at things you like, and think about them for longer than you usually would. think about the shapes and colors. what makes that drawing so darn appealing to you, besides subject matter and the vague concept of an "artstyle"? you'll be surprised just how abstract what appeals to you can be. for me, with expressions especially, it comes down to random shit like "i like when the edge of a character's mouth creates a tangent with the outline of their head" instead of "pretty eyes" or other, vaguer elements. and that shit i like becomes a part of my artstyle, but only when it fits in and looks appealing, because you can't do stuff like this in every single drawing & retain a full range of expression

ANYway. i hope this made some sense/helped at least a little. i like lord hater a lot. and i also like to draw

[phagodyke]

my god. new contender for most shite day at work this year so far

another morning another free bus journey..

[carionto]

What Humans call the "Thousand Yard Stare"

As more and more Humans interact with and integrate within Coalition stations, reports, closer to hushed whispers really, began to circulate of some Humans being... discomforting... to be around.

Initially we thought it was just rudeness or passive aggressive behavior or any number of subtle actions or choice of words, no matter how advanced or civilized there will always be some assholes.

However, when some of these "offenders" were presented to us peacekeepers, we found them to be perfectly polite and reasonable. As our conversation continued and shifted topics, whenever there was a lull or the focus was on another speaker for a longer time, the Human's gaze drifted somewhat.

Sometimes she would look to the side and it was harder to tell what her exact expression was, but every so often she would be looking at one of us, but... not. It was as if she was staring at something behind us, through us even. Beyond the walls of the station, it even felt as though beyond space and time itself.

It was one of the most unnerving and chitin-chilling feelings we've ever felt, but then the Human seemed to notice our change and became that friendly and cheerful person once again:

"Sorry, my mind drifted there for a bit. What were you saying?"

And the conversation continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary for the Human.

Upon our return to our office, one of the Human peacekeepers heard about our impromptu assignment and offered this explanation after we told him what happened:

"Oh yeah, I think that person was a retired firefighter or rescue worker of some kind. Professions like that can be dangerous and you'll eventually encounter something horrible at a disaster site or crime scene. Probably saw someone die, or a person they rescued later didn't make it, or it was a kid... It's the toughest when you're the last one a child sees before..."

There it is again. That look, but with a tinge of sadness this time. We didn't know he was carrying such memories. The untimely death of anyone is a difficult time for those that survive, especially when it is the young whose life was still just starting. It seems Humans with their heightened senses and sensitivity to the feelings of others these kind of experiences imprint a far stronger memory than for most.

"Anyway, we've got a bunch of names for such things, but typically we call it the thousand yard stare. It's an old measurement unit, don't worry about it. I think the meaning may have changed a bit over the years, but basically some people go through traumatic stuff and they decide, consciously or not, to sort of... detach themselves from reality. It's a coping mechanism.

A few people thrive on horrible things, but they're the exception. Most of us would go crazy or depressed or any other infinite bad possibilities our brains can go in if we don't find a way to separate ourselves from certain realities. It can get real bad otherwise. It's rare, but a few go truly nuts and try to inflict their pain unto others. Most end up suffering alone for a long time. And some can't take it anymore and decide to end it themselves.

Thankfully therapists and support options are widely available, so those kind of scenarios are really rare, like... suicide accounts for about three out of a hundred thousand deaths last time I saw those charts. Plus drones and automation take care of most of the dangerous tasks, leaving the vast majority of cases to be caused by interpersonal relations actually. A broken heart is one of those traumas we'll never get rid of it seems. That's just life, I guess."

[archivalofsins]

Be the change you want to see. By that, I mean start treating these character deaths like the prisoners' victims have been treated all series. Start asking what they did to deserve this. Start accusing them of attacking someone else first and deserving it. Throw some cheating allegations in there.

Just start going wild with it.

It's been like that with every other death mentioned so far. Why not again here?

How did this happen? Well, you see, Mahiru went to talk to Shidou and he saw her walking then realized the poison just wasn't working. She just kept living regardless of how and thriving despite the doses. This was taking too long why wouldn't she just,

"You're in my way... hurry up and die."

Who knows. The writing was on the wall everyone had read it but her.

22/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Mahiru: My birthday…… the day I was born…… But was there really any reason for me being born? Lately I’ve started to wonder that. Do you ever think about stuff like that, Yuno-chan?

Yuno: Eh? Not really. I mean, Mahiru-san, you’re really the romantic type, right? Not that I have anything against that. But isn’t it a bit much to think that everything in life has a meaning? If it makes you happy to think like that then go ahead, but if it doesn’t, then isn’t that in itself meaningless?

Mahiru: : ……you might be right. I’ve always just lived my life like this, so I don’t really know.

Yuno: We’ve all just gone through a bunch of things in life that happened to lead us here. It’s nothing more than a coincidence. Definitely not fate or anything. Probably. Even if there isn’t a meaning, you can still be happy that it’s your birthday. That sort of thing’s all you need in life really. So happy birthday, Mahiru-san.

The first allusion to the attacks occuring was on Haruka's birthday in 2022. After that the first allusion to Shidou treating the injured was on Amane's birthday of the same year,

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

Three months later we saw her again on Yuno's birthday. She stated that she was having difficulties moving but if she didn't move too much she doesn't even feel pain.

22/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Mahiru: ……no, I’m fine. As long as I don’t move too much I don’t even feel any pain. Sorry for making you worry.

Yuno: Oh, really? That’s good then. Mahiru-san, if there’s anything you want then just ask. It’s not like it’s a huge burden, I can just ask for it along with my own stuff.

Mahiru: Ok…… I’m fine for now. Sorry, for making you worry.

Ah, Yuno-chan…… Today’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.

Yuno: ………… Haha, thanks. Thank you, but y’know. Is it really ok for you to be saying that to me when you’re in that situation? ……you really aren’t suited for Milgram, huh, Mahiru-san.

This news seems to have travelled around the prison. Because when Amane approaches her on her birthday the following year she asks her how her body is feelings.

It has now in canon been going on seven months of her being in Shidou's care.

She tells Amane that she fine and she can move around if she uses a wheelchair. This is the only time this wheelchair is mentioned after this Mahiru begins to drastically deteriorate.

23/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Amane: Happy birthday. Mahiru-san. How is your body feeling?

Mahiru: ……ah, Amane-chan. Thank you. Yeah, I’m fine. Now I can move around if I use a wheelchair…… It’s all thanks to Shidou-san looking after me……

Amane: I’ll give you one warning. The two of you are dabbling in something tabooed. If you continue to go against the way of nature like this, you’ll just bring an early death upon yourself. Think hard about this.

Mahiru: Amane-chan……? Are you really Amane-chan……?

Eleven months into her being under Shidou's care while requesting questions for the second trial written interrogation Jackalope notes that Shidou and Mahiru have completely entered the roles of patient and doctor.

23/05/15 (Interrogation Start: Shidou and Mahiru)

Jackalope: Prisoner 05, Shidou Prisoner 06, Mahiru. The interrogations for these two will now be held. Just leave your questions in the comments here. Ask whatever you want to know. This is where you show off your skills as a prison guard. ……hmmm. These two have now totally slipped into the roles of doctor and patient huh. It probably isn’t a good time to be getting interrogated for them…… but, well, it’s the rule.

Over the course of her second trial written interrogation Mahiru's handwriting declines rapidly.

Despite being interrogated together with her and being asked the exact same questions. Shidou doesn't offer to help Mahiru with writing her answers even though she is now completely under his care.

As well as the fact that there have been no rules stating that such a thing isn't allowed and that all prisoners must write their own answers.

Such a drastic and consistent decline in writing alludes to something I've been speculating for a while now. That the prisoners are given all their interrogation questions at once and have to fill them all out at the same time.

We know that Mahiru and Shidou were given these questions together because it is the only way she would come to know that he had kids. As he never brought it up in the timeline before she asked.

Note the next conversation occurs sixteen months after Mahiru began being under Shidou's care.

23/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)

Mahiru: You have a family right, Shidou-san……? How does it feel, being married, having kids……?

Shidou: ……yeah, it’s a wonderful thing. Children…… yeah. They really are hope for the future. When you have your own, suddenly it becomes fun growing old. Since as you grow older, you get to see them grow up.

Mahiru: Ah…… how lovely. It was always my dream to become a bride. Though maybe that seems a bit out-dated. I wish it could’ve come true……

Shidou: It isn’t too late. I’m going to make sure you live. So let’s get out of here, and you make your wish come true. ……you still have so much to live for.

Then Kazui asks him later if he has kids so this was new information to everyone and the only place she could have seen that information is on the interrogation card he wrote it.

Q.11 Tell us your family structure.

Shidou: My wife and my 2 kids.

So he could have helped her fill these out and just choose not to despite knowing full and well how servere her injuries were. Which we know he knew because he opens his second voice drama listing them in detail.

Even if they were not made to answer all their interrogation questions at once and Mahiru was given a reasonable amount of time to write her answers. Such as being given one card on the daily basis to fill out that would make the decline in handwriting more odd. Since at that point it would allude to her overall health deteriorating on a daily bases to the point that she can't even write like she used to be able to anymore.

All still while being under Shidou's constant care.

On Amane's birthday Yuno states that Mahiru has finally managed to get to sleep. Implying that Mahiru has not only had pain related issues but sleep ones as well.

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away.

Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that.

Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

This conversation takes place twelve months or one year into Mahiru being under Shidou's care.

At this point her condition has not improved at all. She has rapidly gotten worse she's lost all mobility is implied to be bed ridden and for a time from this point forward will only be approached by others. Her state has declined so much under Shidou's care that she now needs two people to take care of her and is stated to need constant attention/vigilance to make sure nothing happens to further exacerbate her condition.

Meanwhile the second party to get injured during the second trial intermission has only gotten better without any of Shidou's care. So much so that he's walking around checking up on other prisoners. So, it's not a matter of not being able to heal in Milgram, but we'll see that in her last interaction.

On Kazui's birthday that same year Shidou laments that due to him putting all his time into taking care of Mahiru he hasn't been able to help Kazui around the prison.

23/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kazui: Hey, it’s been a while since we last talked. You’ve been working hard lately. Are you doing ok? Should I give you a shoulder massage?

Shidou: ……no, there’s no need to worry. You’re surely on edge at the moment too, after all, Mukuhara-san. Since I’ve been devoting my time to Shiina-kun, I haven’t had time to help with the rest of the prison. Sorry for leaving everything to you.

Kazui: No, it’s fine. I haven’t done anything really. ……you take on too much responsibility on your own. Make sure you rest a bit too. Oh, that’s right, today’s my birthday. So how about you join me for a smoke? As a present.

Shidou: ……I guess it’s precisely because we’re in this situation that things like that are necessary too. Happy birthday. I’ll join you. Can you lend me a cigarette?

Presumably it's during this birthday smoke break that Shidou tells Kazui that Yuno has been helping him. His first response is to later go up to Yuno on her birthday and ask why she's doing that.

To which she responds with,

"If there’s someone dying in front of you anyone would do what they could to help."

Further cementing that Mahiru has not moved one step away from deaths door in now fifteen months of being under Shidou's care. Spoiler alert she doesn't die any better than she started trial two.

23/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Kazui: I heard you’ve been helping Shidou-kun out. ……er, sorry if this comes across as rude, but it’s kind of unexpected. It always seemed like you didn’t care that much about other people.

Yuno: Hmm? What’s with that all of a sudden. I mean, you’re right, I don’t care much. But if there’s someone dying in front of you anyone would do what they could to help, right? And anyway, aren’t you the same? You usually don’t care much either, right?

Kazui: ……I wonder. This old man isn’t as much of a thinker as you are. I mean, until now I’ve been in an environment where it’s all about having physical strength. So I’ve never really thought about stuff like that.

Yuno: Haha, we’re the same in that we’re both liars too. I guess the difference is the reasons we lie. You care about yourself, so lie to protect yourself. I don’t care about anyone at all, including myself.

Now we're in 2024, and her condition is still notably bad. Like still really bad, like at a glance, you can tell something is wrong bad. This timeline takes place twenty-four months after Mahiru was placed under Shidou's care.

It has been two full years.

She has the same injuries from two years ago while Futa is walking around just fine. No wonder he's concerned and going,

"As long as treatment continues, huh. …… I wonder how you’re going to be saved."

Because if the treatment hasn't worked so far and they've all been here witnessing the treatment this whole time. Seeing it not work while Mahiru is just here like but Shidou's a doctor, and he says if I do x, y, and z, I'll be better in no time. Don't worry. The treatment will work. Sure, I've been this way for two years, but it'll work. Shidou is a good and honest person, I trust him. Beyond that, just you showing concern for me has saved me already.

Dr.Malpractice off in his cell wondering what the fuck he can keep getting away with today. At a point they had to have gone yeah we gotta kill him. Like at a point they must have started getting a bit suspicious.

None of these people are unobservant.

24/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Futa: ……hey. Oi, Mahiru. You’re in pretty bad shape, right……? Isn’t there anything that can be done?

Mahiru: What’s up, Futa-kun? Yeah, I’m not great…… But Shidou-san’s been looking after me…… And he says if we keep going like this, I’ll get much better……

Futa: ……right. As long as treatment continues, huh. …… I wonder how you’re going to be saved.

Mahiru: Saved……? Are you worried about me? …… You’ve been a lot kinder lately, Futa-kun. …… I feel like I’ve been saved just hearing those words from you.

Then we've got the timeline before the end.

In which Yuno tells the audience and Shidou straight-up she does not know what he's getting at by saying she should become a doctor. Because the only thing she's done is follow his lead. Possibly with the expectation he was doing what he claimed he was going to do- Help Mahiru get better.

Yuno isn't a doctor she wouldn't be able to check him on if he was doing something wrong or not. She just knows that Mahiru's condition has just gotten worse and worse. So more help is needed or she may really die. She doesn't even fully understand the treatment Shidou is giving Mahiru saying she's just helping with whatever he's doing.

24/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Shidou: Thank you for your assistance with Shiina-kun’s treatment.

It’s been a big help having you here. Both for her and for me. It’s good to know that even if something happens to me, you’ll still be around.

Yuno: No way. I can’t do anything on my own. All I’m doing is helping with whatever you’re doing. It’s just like playing pretend as a nurse.

Shidou: No, you’ve got a good sense for things like this. You’re quick to notice things, calm, and fearless. If you haven’t decided what you want to be in the future, maybe you should consider becoming a doctor yourself.

Yuno: You think so? ……haha, stop it. I don’t want to be thinking about the future right now. And for someone like me to have other people’s lives in my hands…… that’s no laughing matter.

Then we get to the nail in the coffin.

Kotoko's birthday,

24/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Mahiru: Kotoko-chan… are you there…? I'm so-rry, for calling out to you. It's a bit… hard, for me to move… I'll need, to also give my thanks, to Shidou-san…

Kotoko: Going out of your way to meet with me. You're such an airhead it's not even funny. Well…. Go on then, if you've got something to say I think I'll hear out the reproach of a dying woman.

Mahiru: The re-proach…? Oh, its nothing like that… [All I want to say is] Happy, Birthday.

Kotoko: ………… You're out of your goddamn mind.

Where even Kotoko could see Mahiru was dying.

She never got a step away from dying. Everyone was always so focused on other things. Could come up with a million and one excuses for why Mahiru's health situation wasn't improving. All because some wanted to put all their faith in the doctor because why would a doctor-

Who openly told us that he committed malpractice. That he couldn't stop himself. That he'd do it again because he couldn't stay away and that's why he wanted this all to end do that same thing again? Why would he do exactly what he warned the audience he'd do if given the opportunity? Which is gain the trust of people due to his credentials as well as the severity of the circumstances then weaponize said credentials to emphasizes his own importance in order to commit the same fucking crime in front of everyone.

While people swear up and down time works differently in Milgram, that's why she's not healing as fast. We don't even know if the prisoners are alive, so maybe they can't heal once they're injured. While Futa is over here like- Man, I listened to the child and stopped relying on Shidou and I've only continued to get better. This shit is ridiculous. Usually, you're told to always listen to your doctor, but what if your doctor weaponizes that blind faith and societal rule against you to cause irreparable harm. Wow, it's always important to get a second opinion and think for yourself at times. Luckily, I got out.

Right now people are emphasizing how Shidou warned us about Amane. Told us something had to be done about Amane. No one is touching on the fact that Shidou and Amane were both voted innocent. How both of their verdicts led to this outcome. How Amane warned the audience about Shidou and his behavior. Warned Mahiru that what she was doing would lead her to an early death.

No one is asking if Shidou was guilty and Amane innocent would he be the only one out of that pair dead right now. Instead we validated both of them seeing full and well how Shidou was caring for Mahiru every step of the way. Feeling the time drag on and seeing her condition worsen not improve. Yet many kept telling themselves no he's actually doing what he said he would do.

He wouldn't do it again.

Milgram is just weird. We don't know enough about the space to say that's not impacting how long it takes for these injuries to heal. So his behavior was validated again and maybe if it wasn't Mahiru might still fucking be here. Because if she was given the space to properly heal instead of being kept at deaths door in immense physical pain and emotional distress for two years.

By this man who can only feel validated in his own existence and as though his life has purpose when he has someone else to take care of then maybe she could have at least spent her last days in less pain than she died in here. Because there is no reason that her injuries should have remained for twenty-nine months.

To the extent that she was still having trouble moving and looking as though she was at death's door to anyone who saw her before she was ever even lost. It sucks but a lot of people including myself have speculated he was committing malpractice again as soon as he was voted innocent and Mahiru was voted innocent but her condition still continued to worsen many suspected that.

It sucks that Mahiru had to suffer due to the audience's and others blind trust in this medical professional. That the work has done everything in its power to display commits malpractice and isn't safe to have around injured or sick people. They literally could not have announced this harder. Maybe he didn't do it. But it's still weird that all the injuries he lists Mahiru having in his second voice drama at most take three to six months to heal and she was still recovering from allegedly the same injuries Kotoko gave her up until she died.

"Head lacerations. Bruising all over her body. A sprained neck. Fractured ribs. Further fracturing of the left arm. And furthermore... This may be outside of my profession, but her mental health is deteriorating as well."

Maybe the number of injuries all together and the inadequate equipment within Milgram made it take longer. Yet she never got better in over two years. She couldn't walk without feeling pain. She started out being able to at least move a little without pain and through the use of a wheelchair but even that stopped.

She just got worse and worse until she died. Then, the one time we saw her up and walking before she died, Shidou was nowhere to be found. Last she said she was gonna go find him to say thank you. Who knows how that went or why she couldn't find him to begin with. Especially since his cell is right next to hers. That would imply he wasn't in it, which maybe.

I just know that if she was given time to heal if Shidou did back off a bit maybe she wouldn't have been in as fragile a state as she was. Well at least she doesn't have to spend another birthday writhing in pain from wounds that seem to never heal.

"This adorable, earnest, sincere ♥ Is bleeding, wailing, this is the end."

[soopcak3]

part 3 to (part 1) “I’m surprised you remembered”

(part 2)

IM SORRY THIS PART IS DEW DEW BUT ITS FOR THE PLOT.

What’s my name again?

Nam-gyu x reader/angst🌧️

Summary: Y/N is in a drug induced haze as the fight breaks out

Warnings: gore, drugs, angst, normal squid game 2 plot stuff.

It felt like everything was rushing past her in 2x speed. Why did she take the pill? It was so stupid! But Nam-gyu gave it to her.. so maybe it wouldn’t be all bad?

All she could think about was him, his dark eyes, his dark hair, and his round yet sculpted face.

All of a sudden, there were five eliminations. One of them being Thanos’ number… what the absolute fuck was happening? Was Nam-gyu okay? Why were they being eliminated?! There were no games until the next day!!

All of a sudden, Nam-gyu and a bunch of other players walked in, covered in blood. Y/N looked over at him, her eyes glazed over from the pill she took. “Nam-gyu…” she muttered.

He surprisingly approached her, “listen to me. A fight is going to break out tonight, I need t you to hide wherever you can… wait— how high are you right now?”

Y/N couldn’t process anything he was saying, she was too focused on the blood dripping from his face. “What.. happened to… Thanos?” She stammered hazily.

Nam-gyu sighed and scrunched his face in his hands, “don’t worry about that right now… just focus on finding a place to go before lights out. Please…” Y/N nodded, studying his face once more before going to hide under one of the bunks.

As soon as lights out started, there were screams in every direction. Y/N covered her ears, still high from the pill she took. Then she heard a familiar voice nearby.

“Semi, come here…” it was Nam-gyu. Y/N looked over to see him cornering Se-mi. She shot up from under the bed and stood in front of her, “Nam-gyu? What’re you doing?!” He gently nudged her out of his way, “I told you to hide…”

“She’s on our team!! Get away from her!!” Y/N yelled. Suddenly a bottle was thrown from above… Min-su. It completely missed all three of them and shattered onto the ground.

Se-mi picked up one of the shards from the bottle and aimed it at Nam-gyu. “Guys! What’re you doing?! Stop!” Y/N shouted at them.

Se-mi charged at Nam-gyu but Y/N quickly dashed in front of him, causing Se-mi to stab her in the shoulder. Y/N fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder while Nam-gyu stood over her, “you fucking bitch I’ll kill you!” He yelled as he stabbed Se-mi in the neck.

“NO!!” Y/N yelled, trying to get up but having no strength in her body. She watched as Nam-gyu murdered Se-mi in cold blood. “No… you fucking killed her!!”

“She hurt you…” Nam-gyu said, panting heavily. “It was an accident… she was scared… and you fucking killed her!”

Nam-gyu bent down and pressed on Y/N’s wound. “FUCK!!” She shouted in pain, “GET OFF OF ME!!” He backed up, clearly shocked by her outburst. “If I don’t stop the bleeding you’ll get an infection! Do you really want that in here?!”

Suddenly the guards burst in, shooting the guns as a warning and breaking up the fighting. Nam-gyu went to hide under the beds as Y/N sat there, bleeding, and nothing to look at but the lifeless bodies around her… including Se-mi.