#and i was rushing to leave to get bones to the vet so i was just like 'uuhh okay sure? bye?' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fuctacles · 2 months ago

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Just like Cinderella

happy bday to my Prince Charming @blasvemous M | 3.3k | crack treated seriously, meet cuteugly something, idiot4idiot, humiliation kink mentioned | Ao3

"Shit, fuck!" Steve lets himself have one last glance at his wristwatch, and of course, it instantly proves to be a mistake.

He runs straight into someone's back, and it punches all the air out of his lungs. He's stunned for a second, and can barely hear a rushed apology. He thinks he mutters back 'No, it was my fault', and by the time he blinks back into reality and crouches to pick up his bag, the guy is gone.

But not all of him.

On the pavement, right under his bag, he finds a... something.

It's made of metal and intricate, and not his. He picks it up and straightens up quickly, in hopes of seeing the guy he ran into. There are a lot of people rushing about, though.

"Hey!" He picks up his pace again, hoping to spot the person he ran into. He remembers long hair and a mix of citrusy shampoo and cigarette smell. Not much else. Nobody turns their head as he runs through the morning crowd, so he stuffs the item deep into his bag and focuses on the initial goal of rushing to work. He can worry about this all later.

On his break, he takes the thing out of his bag to take a better look. It looks well-made and could be expensive, but he has no idea what it could be. It reminds him of old egg beaters, but he doubts that's what it is. Maybe a toy? One of these educational puzzles for nerds, like a Rubik's cube? Or! It could be a replica of some sci-fi movie gadget. Like the sonic screwdriver that Dustin made.

He probably should just ask around.

His usual go-to, the self-titled oracle and part-time scholar Robin Buckley, had no better ideas than him. She turned the thing in her fingers, cradling it delicately like an eggshell, while humming and hemming.

"Looks like a tiny brace. Maybe for a york's paw? The guy could be a vet," she offers.

"Maybe," Steve nods, not convinced at all. He doesn't want to think about a little dog with a broken paw somewhere out there, its bones unprotected. "I was thinking it could be a kitchen utensil?"

Robin puts it on the desk between them and stares at it intently.

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Steve shrugs, embarrassed to share his idea. "Like an egg beater?"

Robin continues her loud thinking but in the end, leaves him with nothing.

The thing weighs him down on his daily commute, waiting in the bottom of his bag for the day he finds its owner. Steve isn't even sure if he would recognize him. Them? After a week he wasn't even sure it was a guy.

The workload doesn't give him a break either, and once Friday finally arrives, he makes a detour on his route home to grab a drink or two. After his first drink, he checks for any loose change he could put in the tip jar and his hand finds the Thing. He pulls it out with a sigh and puts on the bartop with a small clunk. As he reaches out to put what he's found in the jar, he hears a very concerning and loud choking sound.

To his right, a long-haired guy is wheezing his lungs out, fist-punching his own sternum. Steve immediately leans over the empty stool between them and starts smacking his back to help.

"Jesus, you alright? Went down the wrong pipe?" He looks around the man, but all he sees is a glass of beer, so hopefully he didn't get a peanut lodged in his windpipe.

The man lets out a really gross phlegmy cough, clears his throat, and takes a shuddering breath.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he wheezes out. "Just, uh, you know. Didn't expect to just turn around and see, uh, that." He spares a tiny glance at the Thing in front of Steve.

Steve immediately brightens up, hoping to finally get an answer to his predicament. He swiftly moves to the empty seat, drink and Thing sliding along the bar with him. He sees the man wince while he's still facing forward like he's afraid to take a proper look. He takes a drink of his beer, this time slow and cautious, and Steve can see the redness spreading from his cheeks down his throat.

"You know what it is?" Steve asks hopefully, leaning closer to him.

The man freezes, and maybe it wasn't in his best manners to just sit down next to someone without asking, but it's already happened and Steve is kind of desperate.

He gulps down the beer, no accidents this time, but his voice is still strained, when he asks incredulously:

"You don't?! No, you know, that actually explains it. Take them damn thing off the bar for the love of Merlin."

Steve, while taken aback by the sudden shift and being ordered around by a stranger, stuffs the Thing away from peering eyes.

"Why? What is it? Something illegal?" Fuck, why didn't he think about that?

But the man is shaking his head.

"No, but I'm pretty sure the bartender wouldn't appreciate it."

"What is it?" Steve presses on.

The guy finally turns to him and Steve can see him in all his glory. Black leather, long hair, and a pair of truly soft brown eyes that don't match his overall vibe at all. And they stare right at him like they are trying to look straight into his soul. He's searching for something for a long, drawn-out moment, before he deflates, eyes skirting away, but he keeps facing Steve.

"Really?" he mutters, mostly to himself. "It's a fucking cock cage, man."

"A fucking cock what?" Steve asks once he gets his voice back.

"You heard me. I'm not repeating myself," he says with a scoff, eyes falling to Steve's bag. His knee starts jumping up and down restlessly. "Where did you find it?"

But Steve had questions of his own.

"Is it like, a medical thing?" he asks.

The looks he gets back would make him believe an alien just popped out of his forehead and started dancing Macarena. He frowns defensively.

"What? I've never seen something like this!"

"It's a sex thing," the man responds mercifully, watching him closely.

Now it's Steve's turn to gauge his eyes at the man. He looks briefly down at his bag like the thing could just grow tentacles and have its way with him.

"How? Why?" he asks, mouth twisting at the images flashing in his mind. "How do you know that?"

The knee never stops jumping. If anything, it becomes more erratic.

"Uh, I know guys who are into it." The man looks away again.

Steve rolls his eyes. Sure. He knows a guy.

"So since you know some guys," he plays along. "Maybe they know more guys and they could ask around if anyone has lost one of these?" he suggests. "Now I want it off my hands even more."

The man scoffs, almost amused.

"Could imagine. I could take it from you and just hand it over to them, make things easier for you," he offers, glances at him, and then shrugs.

Steve recoils at the idea.

"That? No, It's my fault the guy lost it, I wasn't looking and ran into him. I need to make sure it goes back to the right hands."

The man hums, drumming his fingers against the bar.

"I want to be there when you ask random people if they are missing their cock cage."

Steve presses his lips together.

"Stop saying that."

"What?" He tilts his head, looking amused. "Cock cage? Like the cock cage you have in your bag?"

"Yes. That."

He raises his hands placatingly.

"All I'm saying is I would be embarrassed as fuck if I was the idiot who lost it. Would be hard to come forward and admit it," he says, raising his shoulders.

Steve huffs, slumping against the bar.

"Fuck, you're right."

"I know," the man murmurs back and they quietly sip their drinks.

"There must be places where it isn't that weird to admit it," Steve thinks out loud. He looks to his bar companion for confirmation but he's frowning at the liquor display in front of him, lost in thoughts. Steve hopes they aren't about him. The guy had a good profile and a cute nose.

"Hey." He nudges him gently with an elbow.

"Hm?" The man turns, his frown melting away so he can raise his eyebrows curiously.

"Do you know any fetish places where I could leave a poster or something?"

The man only stares at him blankly.

"You're gonna make posters," he states more than he asks.

"If I have to." Steve shrugs.

"You sure you don't want me to just take it off you?"

"Nope."

"We could exchange numbers and I'll let you know when I find the owner."

Steve thinks about that.

"You could lie, though," he points out.

He huffs, annoyed.

"I totally absolutely could," he agrees with a resigned nod like using logic pains him. Then, he sighs. "I could buy it off you?" he finally offers.

Steve's taken aback.

"Why do you want it so badly?" He frowns at him.

"I just want to do you a favor, man!" He rolls his eyes. He's almost angry and 100% done with this conversation, it seems, as he downs the rest of his drink and slides off the barstool.

"Tomorrow at ten, in front of the bookstore on John Paul. Bring your silly posters and I'll show you some kink shops and bars."

Steve blinks at him.

"That okay?" the man asks, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips.

Hesitantly, Steve nods.

"I guess that's my best shot. Thanks, man."

The guy nods.

"Don't mention it."

Then he turns and leaves, hands buried deep into his pockets, and Steve realizes he hasn't even asked for his name.

He regrets not taking the guy on his offer to take the thing off him when he had the chance. Because he wouldn't be stuttering his way through explanations while his temporary companion revels in his embarrassment like it's the gods' nectar.

At least now he knows his name is Eddie.

Eddie pretends to be interested in the little display of nipple rings while Steve tries to convince the shop owner to hang his little poster saying "fetish gear found". The man finally yields, as do two others, thus concluding the number of sex shops in the area.

"The bars don't open until late but we can try the Hangover before we part."

"What's that?" Steve asks, following Eddie anyway.

"Also a bar, but they serve hangover food around noon. They have the best bacon and won't tell me where they buy it from." He frowns like it's some personal feud.

"Perfect. I can buy you lunch for helping me." Steve grins at him.

Eddie seems surprised at first but then smiles widely.

"I won't say no to free food. This way, my good man!"

The place is a hole in the wall but really cozy. It seems like the same guy who took their order is cooking it and there's only one other person, with a coffee refill in front of them and a plate of... something unrecognizable under every possible sweet topping.

"I gotta show this place to Robin, she'll love it," Steve comments while looking around. The inside looks like It was never fully finished or whatever purpose it served previously didn't require it. The walls are rough bricks, the windows old and probably drafty, and the only part of the floor that isn't rough cement is the dancefloor.

But the collection of LED signs, mismatched couches, and a sunflower mural softened the rough interior. Steve will definitely come here again.

They get their own jug of coffee and Eddie pours for both of them.

"Girlfriend?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

Steve rolls his eyes in a very tired way and Eddie almost chokes on his surprised laugh.

"Geez okay, not a girlfriend then."

Steve chuckles dryly.

"Nope, just my best friend. We play for different teams."

Eddie eyes him curiously but he doesn't elaborate on that. He clears his throat.

"Well, in that case, I should tell you that all the places I've shown you today are queer-friendly."

"This included." The chef must have heard that last sentence. He places their food on the counter. "There you go, little gays, bone apéritif."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it goes," Eddie murmurs, immediately snatching a piece of bacon off his hash browns.

"It is how it goes if you want more free coffee," says the chef as he turns around.

"Your French is immaculate, Benjamine!"

Steve makes an ugly snort at Eddie's terrible French accent. The man seems to be very proud of his little theatrics.

For a moment it's just the sound of forks against plates and the distant radio playing in the kitchen. Eddie finishes first, almost inhaling his food like he's a human vacuum, and pours himself more coffee.

"You wanna go to the bars too? Later?"

Steve chews on his bite thoughtfully.

"I think if you give me the addresses I'll be good to go on my own. You've already done so much, man."

Eddie is stunned into silence. This is not the answer he wanted. He licks his rapidly drying lips, looking for a good excuse to keep tagging along.

"Uh, are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. You've wasted so much time on me today. I don't want to completely ruin your weekend." Steve smiles at him.

"It's not a problem, really—"

"No, man, I wouldn't feel okay dragging you around." Steve shakes his head.

"First of all, I'm dragging you around," Eddie huffs. "Second of all, it's the first time a man this pretty spent so much time with me and hasn't run for the hills. Let me have this."

Steve frowns at that information.

"You must have shit luck with men."

"Tell me about it," Eddie murmurs into his coffee.

"So it would be a date?"

Eddie turns to him, eyes wide. But Steve holds his gaze.

"I mean, it would be nice." Eddie tugs on his hair nervously. "We can do the posters thing and then just have fun for the rest of the night, no?" he offers.

"Absolutely." Steve smiles reassuringly.

"Awesome." Eddie grins.

Steve spends hours figuring out his outfit. It's his first official date with a man, he has to look good. He therefore makes the mistake of calling his best friend. He nods along as she tells him what exactly to put on (How she has memorized his wardrobe is a question he doesn't want answered.) and then clears his throat when she takes a breath.

"What if I don't want to attract women?"

There's a pause and then—

"My my, Steven, finally going for it?"

"You could say that."

"Where are you going? A bar? What's the vibe?"

He sighs.

'We're kind of bar hopping, he's showing me around the area."

"Back up, back up!" she yells in his ear. "We?! You're not just going out? You have a date?"

"Yeah," Steve more breathes than says. He has a date. It's slowly dawning on him.

"Who is he?" Robin asks impatiently and he can easily imagine her curling up in her armchair for gossip.

"His name is Eddie—"

"Okay, sounds normal."

"—he has this long, wild hair, and tattoos—"

"Okay, less normal."

"—but he is normal. A bit awkward, kind of dorky, not at all how you'd expect a guy in a leather jacket to be."

"Huh. Okay, maybe I won't find you in a ditch somewhere. I want a call when you get back, no later than tomorrow morning. At noon, I'm calling the police."

Steve rolls his eyes fondly.

"Of course, Robbie. But can we focus on the matter at hand?"

In the end, he goes the Freddie Mercury route, with a tank top that shows off his chest hair, and tight jeans. He throws a colorful shirt over it to fight off the night chill. Eddie looks pretty much the same as earlier, though his band t-shirt looks a bit tighter.

"Steve," he sighs instead of a proper greeting and Steve's face falls. He looks down at himself.

"What? Is it that bad?"

"Darling, you're gonna get eaten alive. How am I supposed to fight off all of the bargoers?"

Steve laughs in surprise, feeling himself blush.

"I guess you'll just have to hold on to me."

Eddie's eyes sparkle under the setting sun.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he says, pulling Steve inside their first location. "I saved my favorite place for last. But we can stay wherever you feel like."

Eddie stays true to his word, parading Steve around like an arm candy, their elbows hooked together. Only on their second bar does he realize something is amiss.

"You didn't bring your posters?" he asks curiously, cocking his head.

Steve hums next to him, sipping on the colorful drink the bartender recommended.

"Do I need them?"

Eddie's visibly taken aback by the question. He frowns at Steve.

"Didn't you want to find the owner?"

Steve nods, unfazed.

"Yeah, and I did."

Eddie's face blanches. He opens his mouth before closing it abruptly, his frown deepening.

"What? When?" he asks, barely containing his panic and immensely confused.

"Earlier today." Steve shrugs. "Haven't given it back yet, though."

"Oh, thank gods." Eddie visibly deflates. Steve raises his eyebrows at that, so he rushes to add: "It's great that you found him so fast." He forces out a smile. "Who is it? Did he know what it was?" The poster was purposefully vague so the person calling in would have to say what they'd lost.

Steve shakes his head, raising the drink to his lips to prolong the suspense just a bit more.

"It's you."

Eddie's brain short circuits. He's stunned for too long for his forced laugh to work.

"Hahah, what?"

Steve smiles at him and since he's feeling extra merciless tonight, reaches out for the man's neck. Eddie looks close to fainting but Steve doesn't relent and rubs a thumb across his jugular, observing him shiver before he pulls him in by his nape. He leans in to press his nose to Eddie's skin, fingers digging into the roots of his hair, where lingers the smell of his shampoo. Artificial lemon and cigarettes. He must have taken a shower before going out.

"You smell just like the guy I ran into that day," Steve explains close to his skin as he traces it with the tip of his nose. Slowly, he moves away. He's a bit worried he moved too fast, but Eddie's cheeks are red and his eyes are fixed on his mouth, so he relaxes back into his seat. "And if I had any doubts, your reaction just now dispelled them all," he finishes with a smirk.

Eddie groans, hiding in his hands.

"This is the most embarrassing date in my life and once I wore my shirt inside out."

Steve laughs but reaches out to put his hand on Eddie's knee to weaken the blow.

"Don't worry, it's working on me."

Eddie pushes his fingers apart to peek at him.

"Really?"

"Surprisingly, yes." Steve nods. "I hope it works out, preferably long enough so I can tell about our first meeting at the engagement party." His smile turns wide and teasing. "We'll put Cinderella to shame."

Eddie groans, but it sounds more pained this time.

"Careful," he says heatedly. "My humiliation kink is flaring up," he says, aiming for humor, but something new wakes up in Steve and he cocks his head with a fake pout.

"Poor baby. You wanna go hide your shame somewhere more private?"

Eddie presses his lips together, breathing deeply through his nose.

"Can we?"

Steve finishes quickly his drink and slides off his bar stool. He feels the pleasant buzz of alcohol and Eddie Eddie Eddie. He leans in for a quick, impulsive peck against his pink lips.

"Of course." He grins. "Let's go."

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #mine #steddie fanfiction #ff #steddie fic #idiot4idiot #steddie crack #Im sorry i cut it off before the good part again

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johnwickb1tsch · 4 months ago

Text

andar conmigo ~ part 14

gif by omg-imagine

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: violence, fire! chapter map

After Juan’s goons drag you away, it is Anjélica who slips from the chaos and entreats every man she finds at the fiesta wearing a uniform to come to Paul’s aid. By the time she is done the Sheriff has a mob of angry vets outside his jail, demanding the soldier’s release.

Don Juan’s money was good, but it didn’t seem worth getting lynched over.

When Paul roars up to Las Nubes in a Willy’s Jeep filled to bursting with fellow veterans, night has fallen, and the flames have just begun to lick out of don Juan’s bedroom window. The few workers who remained home from the fiesta are frantically shouting and passing buckets of water, fighting like hell to keep the rest of the buildings and the fields from burning.

The house is already a lost cause.

There is a rumble of thunder in the distance, a late summer storm too far, too late.

Paul leaps from the Jeep before it has even stopped, running for the house. He knows you are in there, and that you need him.

Some of Juan’s toughs emerge to meet the Jeep filled with interlopers, and Paul’s brothers in arms surge to meet them head on.

Paul bursts into the house, rushing down the hall on long legs, towards the flames.

Don Juan’s bedroom door is locked. Paul throws himself at it. It takes one, two, three tries before the heavy old wood gives. The burst of heat from the room sends him back a step, before he charges inside.

His heart falls as he sees you laying there on the floor, crumpled and bloody as a flower crushed under foot, and for a heartbreaking moment he is certain you are dead.

“Y/n?” he pleads, diving to his knees beside you, gathering you in his arms.

He’s never been so relieved in his life, as when you stir in his grasp, your question of “Paul?” barely audible over the roar of the flames.

“I’m getting you out of here.” He adjusts his hold so he can carry you out–and you see the ominous shadow in the doorway. Juan has returned, and he is holding an ornate saber that has been hanging in the hallway for longer than the two of you have been alive combined.

“Paul–look out!” You try to warn him, but your voice is so weak. Maybe he sees the fear in your eyes, for he ducks just in time for the blade to slice just over his head.

“You’re just in time for the barbecue!” hisses Juan, slashing again.

Paul tries to evade, but doesn’t quite. The blade clips his arm, blood spurting. Though enraged, Juan is no swordsman. Before he can swing the heavy sword around to strike again Paul tackles him to the floor, wrestling for the blade.

An old, familiar fury fills Paul, that consuming savagery from his war days slipped from its cage, and he wants to tear this horrible man to pieces with his bare hands for what he’s done to you.

They fight viciously, rolling, cursing, hitting and biting.

“You dishonored my house!” snarls Juan. “I will kill you both!”

The heat from the fire is scalding. You feel as though your skin will melt right from your bones, and you try to roll away from the growing flames.

In the end Paul is victorious, pounding Juan’s hand on the floor until he must let go. The soldier throws away the fancy sword into the flames on the far wall. The room is a furnace now, and the fire is spreading out the window, up the house. You all need to go now, but Juan still will not quit, rendered mad by the desire for vengeance.

Desperate to get to you, Paul punches Juan in the jaw, hard enough to knock him out cold.

“Paul?” you cry out, coughing on smoke.

The decision is easy for him, to leave Juan behind to the flames, when he scoops you up and barrels into the hallway to make your escape from the burning house. As he passes through the door part of the grand old hacienda collapses behind him.

He carries you away from the blaze as far as he can before his legs give out beneath him. “Y/n?” He cradles your head in his hands,desperate for you to answer him. Tears make sooty tracks down his cheeks. You both look like you rolled in a coal bin.

“Paul?” Your eyes open to slits, and you cough violently.

Are you alive?

For a moment you’re certain that if Paul is here before you–you’ve died, and this is your version of heaven.

“Thank God,” he sobs, clutching you to him.

Maybe you’re not dead.

How marvelous it is, to breathe fresh air, and be cradled in this man’s strong arms again.

Maybe you should start going to church again, because when the heavens open up and the rain falls down, it feels like a special blessing from above. You sit like that in Paul’s arms for you don’t know how long, soaking wet but warmed by his body sheltering yours.

“I thought I lost you. Jesus Christ, I thought he’d killed you.” Paul’s words are a low litany in your hair.

“I’m fine now,” you assure him, your voice rough from smoke inhalation.

You absolutely are not fine, but you’re alive, and right now, that’s something.

Even better, in your eyes, Paul is alive, and that’s the greatest miracle of all.

You tilt your head in question, and without a word Paul answers with his lips on yours, a life-giving kiss that soothes the inferno in your soul as surely as the rain outside.

You sit together in a sodden pile, watching the house burn, before the rain starts to damper the flames. Too late for don Juan, you both are certain. On whose head lays the blame? Yours, for starting the fire? Paul’s, for leaving him? Or Juan’s himself, for being the man he was?

You are too numb to suss it out, and Paul gingerly loads you into the Jeep to take you to the doctor in town, certain you both have worn out your welcome at Las Nubes.

*divider by animatedglittergraphics

#paul sutton #paul sutton x reader #a walk in the clouds #paul sutton x you #paul sutton x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #andar conmigo paul sutton fic #don john x reader #don john #don john x you

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links-in-time · 7 months ago

Note

Legend and Fable being twins therefore Legend’s technically a prince

This one ended up being a bit of hurt and comfort for Legend and got me to write for Hyrule too which I haven't really done yet. Enjoy.

Twins

Legend always felt conflicted about returning to his era. Although it held everything dear to him, his lover, his friends and family. As well as all the familiar comforts of home, in contrast to life on the road. Whenever he stepped out of a portal and felt the familiar rush of magic from his own time greet him, it was tinged with a little sadness. Even though he would get to spend time in more familiar surroundings, he knew eventually he would have to leave again and continue his quest with the Chain.

Ravio had been there to greet the boys at the door of his (Legend's) house. Arms wide and a smile even wider, he assaulted the Vet with a bone breaking hug, followed by a flutter of rapid kisses. Legend could feel the eyes of the other boys watching them, making his face flush pinker than the streak in his hair. He struggled out of Ravio's grip and showed the rest of the Chain into his house.

After a couple days of rest, and Legend making sure Ravio hadn't sold off any of his equipment while he'd been away, a letter arrived for Legend. Four managed to get a glance at the seal on the envelope before Legend tried to hide it.

"Looks like the royal seal," he pointed out to the others. "Is it from your Zelda?"

"It would appear so. But she hasn't written to me in ages," Legend shrugged.

"That's not true. She actually writes to him fairly regularly. Bunny just doesn't like to admit who he really is, it's quite adorable really," Ravio hummed, sitting on the arm of the sofa staring up at Legend with mischievous eyes.

"What do you mean, 'who he really is'?" Asked Wild, looking up from the stove where he was making toast.

"Bunny?" Ravio frowned. "You mean you haven't told them?"

Legend glared at his boyfriend with steely eyes which clearly conveyed the desire for him to stop talking. But Legend had used that stare for so long, and it rarely worked.

"Rav, I swear, if you utter one more syllable I'm kicking you out!" Legend warned in a husky whisper. Which Ravio tried not to be turned on by.

"Okay, okay. If you want to keep it a secret that's your choice. But I'm sure they're all dying to know!" Ravio replied, raising his hands in surrender before turning and leaving the room.

"Well, then there'll only be one hero left and I can have some peace and quiet!" Legend retorted.

As he glanced over his shoulder and realised the whole chain was staring at him. Each with a different expression. Some looked curious, others rather shocked, while the rest seemed downright concerned.

"Legend," said Sky softly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong." Legend insisted a little too quickly. "Agh, I'm going to bed." He huffed, before shoving the letter into a pocket and stomping up the stairs.

What Legend didn't realise was that in his haste he had failed to get the letter into his pocket and it fell to the floor, where it slipped under a bookcase by the door. Hyrule was the only one who noticed, but decided not to retrieve it until later.

That night while the rest of the boys were asleep, Hyrule's curiosity had kept him awake. Silently he got out of his bed roll and shifted into his Fae form. Rolling his shoulders to stretch his underused wings, he fluttered them experimentally. It had been so long since he had transformed, but the familiar flow of magic was warm and welcoming. Careful to fly above the sleeping forms below, Hyrule drifted across the room and landed in front of the bookase. The gap beneath was only a few inches high, but Hyrule was now only four inches tall. Still, he had to crawl into the gap until he found the envelope. Tugging it behind him Hyrule crawled back out from under the bookcase and laid the letter flat on the floor.

He stared at the crest, it was indeed the Hylian royal seal, a symbol they all recognised. Hyrule's wings fluttered as he considered what to do next. He was certainly intrigued enough to open the envelope and read the letter. But reading a message from Zelda to her Link felt a bit like a violation of Legend's privacy. Especially since it had taken Legend longer than most to trust the other members of the Chain. Plus, he clearly hadn't wanted to read the letter in front of them.

But what if it was urgent? What if Zelda was trying to relay vital, time sensitive information to Legend? If that were the case, surely it would make sense to read it as soon as possible. They were on a dangerous quest after all. Any news could be bad news. Spurred on by his sudden overwhelming sense of concern for his predecessor, Hyrule broke the seal on the envelope.

Pulling the sheet of paper out of the envelope, Hyrule began to read the note.

Dear Brother Link,

I have been informed that you and your hero friends have returned to our kingdom. It has been many weeks sine we last spoke, but I hope that Ravio has passed on my previous letters. I have been worrying about you lately and hope that you might be amenable to coming to the castle. If you have some time before you must leave us again on your quest. There are some urgent things I wish to discuss with you regarding family matters.

Your ever loving sister,

Zelda x

Hyrule had to re-read the letter twice for the information within to sink into his racing brain. Before he could process any kind of emotions, Hyrule was startled by the sound of footsteps overhead. Instantly, Hyrule transformed back into his Hylian form, careful not to step on the nearest sleeping Link. The letter clutched in his hands.

Only a heartbeat passed before Legend's stumbling sleeping form swayed into view. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned wide before turning his head ever so slightly. The frigid form of his successor standing in the doorway, clutching at what looked like a pice of paper, caught his gaze. Legend stopped dead, staring like - well, like a rabbit caught in torch light - startled by the sudden apparerance of an unannounced figure, but also at the paper in his hand.

"What r'you doin?" Legend mumbled, his voice low but easily conveying his annoyance. His hand was still pressed against his face as he eyed Hylue suspiciously.

"Erm, I was just, retrieving the letter you dropped," Hyrule stuttered, unable to meet Legend's gaze.

"And you just thought you'd read it while you were at it?!" Legend raised an eyebrow, dropping his hand to his hip.

"I'm sorry, curiousity got the better of me," Hyrule replied, his shoulders slumping as his ears drooped a little.

Legend reached forwards and snatched the letter out of Hyrule's hand. He scanned it quickly and some of the venom in his posture seemed to melt away.

"You read it?" He asked softly, looking at Hyrule from the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry, I was worried it might be urgent. But I guess that's no excuse. I'm sorry Legend." Hyrule sighed, hanging his head.

Legend let out a long sigh, but before he could say anything another pair of footsteps joined them in the hallway.

"Bun Bun?" Ravio called, in a loud horse whisper down the stairs. Hyrule tried not to snicker at the nick name.

"What?" Legend responded in an equally loud whisper.

"Are you coming back to bed?" Ravio asked.

Legend looked back at Hyrule, observing his brother's shrunken figure and his sheepish expression. Legend huffed a resigned sigh and turned his head to call back upstairs.

"I'm just going to go out and get some air. I'll be back soon. Go back to sleep Rav."

Legend and Hyrule heard Ravio close their bedroom door overhead and a moment passed between them before Legend spoke again.

"Come on, I think I really do need some air."

Hyrule followed Legend out of the cosy warmth of the house and out into the chill of the night air. Legend kept walking a short way from the house towards a well on top of a small hill. There he stopped and sat down on the well, looking back at Hyrule who came to a stop a few feet away.

"Are you okay Vet?" Hyrule asked softly. "Link?" He said a little louder when Legend didn't respond.

"Hmm, oh. I'm fine," Legend huffed, his eyes fixed on the grass at his feet.

A few fireflies were hovering around the top of the grassy hill. Hyrule watched them drifting to and fro while he thought hard about what to say next. His brother was clearly not fine, but how to probe for answers without the Vet being his usual defensive self.

"I can tell something is eating you up inside Lege. And it's just me, no one else is here right now. You know you can talk to me," Hyrule insisted, laying a hand over his heart.

"Not sure I want to talk about this Rulie," Legend responded, still not meeting Hyrule's eye.

"Okay, you might not want to talk, but it might help. I don't mind how long you want to sit out here." Hyrule insisted, as he dropped to the ground and sat cross legged in front of Legend. "We can stay out here all night if it helps. I can sit and watch the fire flies."

At this Legend looked up. He seemed to noticed the fire flies for the first time. The corners of his lips curled slightly as he watched the tiny green specks floating around in the still night air. Hyrule watched Legend for a long time, his eyes following the softly glowing bugs. Hyrule wasn't sure if Legend would actually say anything. But he hoped he would. They sat for a long time and Hyrule could feel the turmoil inside the Vet coming off of him in waves. It interrupted his natural flow of magic, his general aura felt staticky and jagged. As though it were compensating for the lump in Legend's chest. At last Legend closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"I don't want the others to know, alright?" Legend asked, fixing Hyrule with an intense stare.

"Cross my heart," Hyrule replied, making the motion with his fingers.

"It's a long story, but I think I can keep it short." Legend took another deep breath before he continued. "A few years ago Zelda was going through some old paperwork in the palace, can't remember why, but that doesn't matter. Anyway, she came across her birth certificate. She thought it was odd that it had been lost for so long, but that wasn't the only unusual thing about it. Her name wasn't the only one on the document. It turned out she had a twin. A brother. Named Link."

Hyrule's eyes went wider than Legend had ever seen them. So wide he was afraid the poor teen might loose them.

"Holy...! Wow!"

"Yeah, that was kind of my reaction. Though with more swearing. Anyway, we learned from Impa that Zelda and I had been separated at birth to protect us from the prophecy that Ganon would return. She got to live a life of luxury and safety, while I was adopted by a simple family to live a life on the margins. I was so..."

Legend stopped, squeezing his eyes shut and balling up his fists in his lap.

"It's okay," Hyrule uttered, reaching forward to lay a hand on Legend's fist. "You don't have to keep talking if you don't want to."

"No, I, I think I need to get this off my chest." Legend said, shaking his head as the beginning of tears began to well in his eyes. "Ever since we found out, Zelda's tried so hard to reach out and make me feel wanted. I think she's trying her best not to feel guilty. Not that she has anything to be guilty for. None of it is her fault, we were both infants when we were separated. But I don't think I've helped how she's feeling. She was always supportive of my relationship with Rav. After we found out we were siblings, she offered to buy us a bigger house. I mean, I just couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I know Rav would love it, but he'd just fill it with junk."

Hyrule nodded, if their current living situation was anything to go by, a larger house would definitely be filled with trinkets and items collected by his cleptomaniac friend and his boyfriend. Hyrule felt his heart strings being tugged as Legend drew in a slightly rattled breath.

"I don't blame Zelda for any of it. But whenever I see her I... I'm just reminded that her parents chose her over me. I can't even bring myself to call them my parents. They were never there for me the way they were for her. Ravio says it's not important where I came from as long as I'm happy where I am now. And I am happy. I almost wish Zelda hadn't found out." Legend flicked his eyes in Hyrule's direction, then straightened his posture. "Anyway, that's the nonsense I've been dealing with. Told you it wasn't important."

"Legend," Hyrule sighed. "It's not unimportant. Anything that has the power to make you feel this way can't just be ignored. You may not want to acknowledge Zelda's parents as your own. But you're right when you say you shouldn't blame her. And look at it this way, you now have a sister. A sister you already had a bond with. Isn't that a good thing?"

"But I can hardly bring myself to see her. And I know it's upsetting her and I never wanted to do that. Ahhh, it's all so messed up!"

Legend dropped his head into his hands, and Hyrule shuffled forwards on his knees to lay a hand on the Vet's shoulder.

"It is messed up. You're right. It sounds like your parents did what they thought was best to protect you. But that doesn't mean they were right. You don't have to forgive them. But I think you need to try hard to forgive Zelda. I'm sure she feels just as betrayed as you do and you ignoring her is only going to hurt her even more."

"Yeah," Legend sniffed, a few tears rolling down his cheek. "I know I should go and talk to her. I'm just, I'm just angry and afraid."

"Have you told Ravio about how all of this has made you feel?"

"Not really," Legend shook his head. "He was too excited to have a Prince as a boyfriend. I didn't want to burden him."

"If I know anything about Ravio and how much he loves you, I'm sure he would want to know how you're feeling. And Zelda too." Hyrule insisted, trying to catch Legend's eye and fix him with a stare.

"You think?" Legend asked weakly, wiping away some tears with the back of his sleeve.

"Think? I know. From what I've seen your Zelda is so sweet and understanding. And Ravio would do anything for you. You have people here who love you Lege. You just need to trust them and open yourself up a little bit to that love. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by how good that can feel."

Silence feel between them while Legend considered Hyrule's advice. The teen was right, and annoyingly wise for his age. Legend's stubbornness had finally got the better of him. It was holding him back. It was keeping the people he loved most at arms length. Of course he trusted Zelda and Rav. More than anyone. Trusting his brothers was different, he knew they had his back, but Ravio and Zelda had his best interests at heart.

"Thanks Rulie," Legend sighed, allowing his shoulders to relax. Hyrule smiled at the tension leaving Legend's body. "I, I think this helped."

"You're very welcome. If you ever feel like you need to talk about something, I'm right here ready to listen."

"Thanks brother. I think, I think I'm ready to see Zelda now," Legend said, slowly assuring himself.

"That's great," Hyrule smiled warmly. "And however you want your relationship with her to be, I'm sure she'll understand."

"Yeah, she's pretty great like that."

"I know you're not one for physical contact but, can I give you a hug Lege?"

Legend hesitated for a moment, but he soon nodded. Hyrule stood up and closed the distance between them. He carefully wrapped his arms around the older boy and pulled him into a soft embrace. Hyrule rested his chin on Legend's head and held him for as long as he felt comfortable. To his surprise he felt Legend's arms squeeze him around the middle for a moment. When he let go, so did Hyrule.

"Thanks Rulie," Legend uttered, wiping more tears from his face.

"It's okay, your highness," Hyrule attempted to tease. Earning him a scowl from the Vet, which odly felt more comforting to him than the hug.

#legend of zelda #link #fanfic #fandoms #the legend of zelda #linked universe #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu chain #ravioli ship #raviolink #ravio x link #asks open #ask response #ask blog #zelda fanfiction #zelda fluff

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cumikering · 9 months ago

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Werewolf Keegan x reader 8

2.4k | angst How many times can you run from someone before they run from you? (part 1) (part 9/end)

An enemy sniper’s bullet went straight through Raider’s leg.

Keegan performed first aid on the collapsed K9, forcing his hands to not tremble from the dread. The bullet had miraculously missed his bones, but the blood still poured from the open flesh. While everyone had taken their masks off, Keegan kept his on. No one needed to know how many ugly tears he shed in silence as he helplessly held his whimpering best friend for the whole ride. He was losing too much, too soon.

Back in the city, in the waiting room of the veterinary hospital, his stare burnt onto the unassuming clock which appeared to move slower by the second. He called you from the hospital’s landline, the only thing that could distract him from everything that was going to shit, but you didn’t pick up.

He had been waiting for what felt like hours, his huffs heavy as he paced the empty room. Empty because since he arrived, the other patrons seemed to prefer to wait elsewhere, away from the man with the storm brewing in his eyes who gripped the seats next to him like he was about to fling them across the room.

When Raider made it out of his emergency surgery, Keegan let out his breath as his shoulder sagged in relief. He knelt next to his kennel, petting the K9 as he lay on his side with a loopy stare, his tail swaying weakly.

“I know you miss her, buddy. I’ll get her, okay?” He took his handkerchief out of his back pocket, placing it next to Raider. “Keep this safe for me.”

The sun was setting when Keegan made it to your apartment. Ideally, he’d visit with a bouquet and a rehearsed speech; alas the stars hadn’t aligned at the slightest the past few painstaking hours. In fact, they had been blown out of the fucking sky because when he got out of his SUV, you were in the courtyard heading to your building, a man next to you.

He slammed his door shut and stalked towards you. He had no right to – perhaps it was the remnants of his agitation, but he wanted to punch the dude for standing so close to you, making you smile and laugh like that. He was walking you to your door, were you going to invite him in? When it was just him on your arm weeks ago?

“I need to talk to you,” he declared.

Your eyes widened momentarily before you walked past him. He didn’t relent, following you.

“You blocked my number. I’ve been trying to reach you the past week.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Your voice was cold as you maintained your pace.

“Don’t think she wants you here.” The man stepped in front of him. “Why don’t you leave her alone, mate?”

Who the fuck was this green-eyed dude with the posh English accent telling him what to do? He might have been as tall as Keegan, but he didn’t look like he could survive half a punch.

“I’m not talking to you.” He didn’t spare the man another glance. “Raider got shot. He’s at the vet hospital.”

You stopped and turned to him. “W-what?”

“He made it out okay, but I thought you might want to see him.”

“Oh God,” you whispered. “Yes, I’d love to see him. Blake, I’m so sorry, I need to go.” You placed your hand on the man’s forearm.

“Are you sure?” He gripped your hand, wary eyes wandering to Keegan before going back to you.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll text you, okay?”

Keegan noticed the way you fiddled with your shirt as you rushed to his car. It was his first instinct to wrap his arm around you whenever you did so, but he caught himself before he made the contact.

“Who is he?” he asked as he drove off. “Was he the one who sent the flowers?”

“Why does it matter, Keegan?” you retorted, an edge in your voice.

“Just answer me.”

“Are you lying about Raider?” The venom dripped from your accusation.

“I’m not. Why would I do that?” He glanced at you. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I don’t actually. I don’t know you anymore.”

I’m jealous, okay? I want you all to myself. “Just… Tell me who he is and I won’t ask again,” he softened.

“It’s none of your business. And if you won’t shut up, let me out of the damn car right now because I’d rather walk on my own than hear your voice again.”

He decided it was enough of an answer who the man was.

During the silent drive to grab Raider’s things at his, the lump in his throat wouldn’t stop swelling, but he’d calmed down enough to not want to scream anymore. It didn’t matter if it was your date or your boyfriend. He’d accepted that he’d irrevocably messed up and nothing was going to change that.

You helped collect the K9’s favourite toys from the living room which was still a mess from him leaving in a hurry for his previous deployment. When he emerged from the bedroom, Raider’s blanket folded in hand, you were waiting by the door. As much as he wanted to stay in the delusion that there was still a sliver of hope of mending this, he understood he might never even get the chance to speak to you again with the way you wouldn’t look at him.

“I just… Can you hear me out? I just need 5 minutes. Please.” His fingers clenched around the soft fabric.

You spared him a glance. He took it as his cue to proceed.

“I wish I had the balls to say this sooner because this feels far too late now. I know you hate me, but at this point I’ve got nothing to lose. So I just… want to tell you I’m in love with you.”

Your stare didn’t waver.

“I want to parade you around to my teammates, take you home to meet my family, kiss you goodnight, every single night. I don’t know how you make me so happy, so alive. But I never said anything because…” He exhaled, arms dropping to his sides, fist clenching and releasing. “What happened to me was… You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m a w-”

“Is this a joke?” You scoffed. “I told you I won’t stop you if you wanted to leave, and you did. I only asked you to be honest and you couldn’t even do that. So save your sorry excuse for someone who’d buy it.”

His gaze fell to the floor. “It’s not an excuse,” he said lamely.

“What are you doing this for? Was it not enough that you left me hanging for a whole week? And- and I heard how you rushed out to leave that morning.” You swallowed. “You’re unbelievable. I shouldn’t have gone out with you, shouldn’t have kissed you. Shouldn’t have forgiven you or let you stay the night!”

Your words, like daggers to a bleeding wound, made it hard for him to breathe. His chest felt bound, icy, his fingertips tingled as his heartbeat echoed in his ears.

So he walked past you and left, the only thing he was good at - running away from problems. Because it hurt less than to see the anger, the disappointment in your face, knowing it was his fault.

In the hurry, he took Raider’s blanket with, but his buddy would have to wait. His skin scorched as he drove to the mountains, but this time, the pain didn’t dissolve after his transformation. He ran aimlessly, wailing and howling the pain away in the woods, blinded by the hot, white fire. Having had experienced nothing as agonising, he wished he had a weapon to just end it right there and then.

He didn’t even make it up the mountain when his legs bucked and he collapsed onto his side, heaving, like breathing through shrapnel impaled through his chest. His eyes didn’t stay open much longer, and he succumbed to the burn.

Keegan didn’t know how long he was out when he woke to his own pained scream, tears down his face in his human form. He ran his calloused hands down his body, but discovered no injury. With the ache in his chest, like a hole had been blown through it, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was reality. He got dressed and dragged his unsteady legs to his car, not feeling like he was all there.

It was in the dead of night when Keegan got to the vet hospital, but as Raider’s handler, the staff cleared him to visit anyway. At the clink of the kennel opening, the K9’s eyes flicked open to him, tail swaying twice before slumping to his side again.

He dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispered, rubbing his head. “I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t even get her to see you without fucking everything up.”

He reached behind the pooch, tucking him under the blanket, but his hand bumped onto something. It was his phone chew toy, the one you were supposed to bring with him.

You’d been there for Raider, despite how much Keegan had hurt you. You still cared even when you didn’t have to. You weren’t allowed to be this kind to someone like him.

Truly realising how much he’d lost, the gravity of it all, he choked out a sob. He didn’t care about having to live the rest of his days as a wolf, but losing you… He couldn’t handle that, yet the situation was the bitter fruit of his cowardice.

The city had long settled when the door to his apartment slammed shut. He didn't care if anyone screamed at his face for the noise at the hour either. He didn’t care about anything, but-

Wait. He smelt you.

You sat up on the couch, rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the florescent lighting. He dove to his knees, arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he choked. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Why can’t you just be honest with me?” You stroked his hair.

“I’m always too scared. Of messing up, of losing you.” His embrace tightened, not caring if he smelt like earth and moss. He didn’t want to let go.

“You keep running away.”

He pulled away, puffy eyes meeting yours. “Can I show you? Do you trust me?”

You nodded. He went to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar before emerging in his wolf form. At the sight, you gasped, frozen in place. He took slow steps towards you, tail between his legs.

“You’re… You’re the wolf from the woods.”

His tail rose. You met him halfway, dropping to your knees to embrace him. He leaned into your hair, accepting that this could very well be the last time he could smell you like this. He pushed you onto your back, standing over you, nuzzling your neck he stained with his tears.

“I want to work things out, but… You keep making me feel like you don’t want me, when you can be kind to me.”

It took a blink of an eye for him to shift above you, now caging you under his body. “I do. I’ve never wanted anything as much. I’m sorry I don’t know how to handle myself and I keep hurting you.”

You cupped his face, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

He closed his eyes. “But I’ll be better. I have to be. For you.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, arms around his neck. The weight on his shoulders released, he could breathe again as the bound around his chest loosened. When you smiled against his lips, he pulled away.

“I’m not looking, but are you… Naked?” Your eyes stayed on his as you tried to bite back your laugh.

He gave you a sheepish smile. “I forgot again.”

You scratched the back of his head.

He sighed. He’d missed your smile beyond words. “I like it when you do that.”

“I know. Your tail told me as much.”

In bed, with you in his arms as the sun rose, he told you about the recon duty. How he had no idea what was happening to him for the first few months, how he could run faster and further, and healed from his injuries in no time at all. He recounted how he eventually got the hang of it until he met you.

“You smelt so good, better than peanut butter, but I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was impossible for me to have someone, a mate. Until that morning, I saw your birthmark, just like my scar.”

He explained the concept of mates, voice hushing as he detailed how the bond worked. His grip on you tightened without him meaning to - he wasn’t ready to know you didn’t feel as deeply towards him for the bond to seal. He braced for you to rip yourself off him, a scream, anything, at the ridiculous lore he told.

The air stilled. “Do you believe all this?”

“I don’t want to, but at this point everything feels more than a coincidence.”

“Then we should bond,” you stated. “The 7th full moon is less than two weeks away.”

“How do we know this is the right thing, or what’s going to happen to you?”

“We don’t, but I don’t care as long as it’s with you.”

“I’m not dragging you into this, peanut. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I love you, Keegan,” you mumbled.

Eyes wide, he sat up, gripping your shoulders. “What- what did you just say?”

You averted your gaze, biting down your smile.

“I love you, peanut. So fucking much.”

His heart soared. Your words melted his fears away, like balm on tender flesh. You cradled his face as he leaned into the smile that he wanted to worship every day.

The wolf fixed his mess after all, and all he had to do was be honest to his peanut, and trust that the universe wasn’t out to get him. With his yearning for you in his bones, maybe this time, he thought, it paid off to be a fighter of his own fate.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @astraluminaaa @shadowlali @eve-lie @reelovesfictionalmen @writeforfandoms @milkteaarttime @blackthorncrown @dekitora

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melitarosaria · 29 days ago

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Hello all. I’m back. Not with great news however…

———

This is Rini. She is my baby. Everything to me. I’d be nothing without her in my life.

Due to me going to university and not being allowed her in my accommodation, I have to leave her in the care of my sister, who is 15. My sister loves Rini as much as I do and so I trusted her to take care of my precious pet. I ensure she is paid for her work with her as I know bunnies are high maintenance.

3 days before I was due to return home, I received a call from my sister where she informed me something was wrong with Rini. She showed me photos of her, and immediately, I was mortified.

The images I saw could only be compared to what you would see on a PETA website.

I rushed home and examined her in person. Did everything I could to get her into a vet as soon as possible. She was skin and bones. Weak. Bald around the genitalia and her tail exposed. Fur on her rear matted and stained yellow. If the images were not so graphic I’d show you. Only a picture could get you to understand the condition she was in.

I can’t believe my sister allowed this to happen. To my child. I was away and comfortable she was safe and content. My sister has looked after her for a year already and never has this ever happened. I have no idea what was going through her mind since I left in September.

I have to return to university on Sunday and I can’t stand the thought of leaving her in my sister’s care again. I have nobody else I can trust her with, and my dad keeps bringing up the idea of rehoming her. Never in a million years would I ever consider getting rid of my bunny. I would rather smuggle her into my Accomodation and get a fine.

It has been 3 days since I first saw to Rini and her condition has improved massively. Eating and starting to drink too. I almost lost her this weekend. I feel like I should be thanking someone or something for her life, but it has all been down to my bunnies strength and myself. (Vets haven’t been able to get her in).

Thank you for reading.

#bunny #bunnies #rabbit #tumblr blog #pets #blog

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whumpinthepot · 1 year ago

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Hamster Interactive Story

CYOA

Chapter 7. Vet

Previous - Masterlist

Content: Medical care, implied needle and medical drugs, broken bones, hospital and vet setting, poor vision, panic attack, emeto mention implied, dubious handling, dehumanization, pet trope, Giant/tiny, female cast, cages, being watched, money stress, selective mutism,

Pov: Ashley, then switches to Hamster for the poll.

Poll Winner: Rush Hamster to the emergency vet

—

You can’t handle seeing her like this. She’s burning in your hands, and you’re already reaching for your pink jacket. It doesn’t matter if you have to work full time at both your jobs for the next year, she has to go to the vet.

You can do your makeup in the car.

You hold her against you, and feel her squirming to try to get more comfortable in your hand. “Shh shh it’s ok, its ok, shh,” you keep shushing her as you swaddle her in a blanket on your lap to keep her safe while driving.

The vet isn’t busy yet thankfully, and you’re able to get her in before half the day is gone. “We’re going get you allll fixed up Sweet-Pea.” You reassure Hamster in a whisper to the blankets she’s hiding under, and hold it close to you. It’s covering your pyjama bottoms so people can’t notice your lack of tight jeans so easily…

The doctor working on the floor today is Dr. Reese, and you recognize him from your job. When you unravel the small heap of blanket to reveal Hamster, she visibly cowers under the bright lights, and pulls her hair over herself. This makes Reese chuckle, and he takes over once she’s set onto the examination table.

Hamster starts crying with that tea kettle whisle to her voice when Reese touches her, but turns her head towards you when she hears your voice. She reaches her tiny chubby hand out for you as if asking to be saved, and your heart breaks all over again. “I’m right here baby girl, don’t worry I won’t leave. This nice man is going to help you.” You want to put your finger down for her, but you have to keep your distance.

Hamster starts actually screaming once Reese begins prodding at her injury, and it makes you feel sick. You have to leave the room after all, and run to the bathroom to get a hold of yourself, gripping the sink to keep back tears. If you ended up with makeup running down your face, you would be too humiliated to come out, and to your horror, that’s exactly what happens…

It takes some time to calm down and fix your face, and finally you brave going back into the room to check on your girl. Your eyes are puffy but you hide it well with fresh eyeliner.

When you see her she’s half awake with a piece of gause taped to her good arm, and a cast being put on the other. She’s just staring off into space with her eyelids drooping, and barely responds to you when you speak.

Your blood runs cold, and you leave again.

A nurse calls you back in shortly after, and Reese talks to you about the break, what medication to give her, how long the cast should stay on.

He mentions something off hand, and you’re somewhat caught off guard, “Have you considered having her vision checked? It appeared to me that she was having a difficult time visually focusing on anything past her nose…”

Thats the sentence that stands out, and your guilt skyrockets at the thought of neglecting her needs. Next thing you know you’re agreeing to an eye exam for the following week, and signing papers that you hardly skim over.

They hand Hamster back to you in a paper box with holes in it, and inside she’s nested in soft tissues that surround her, with a cast protecting her arm. She’s fully asleep, and not moving. You snap a picture for your blog, and add your GoFundMe link to the description of your post.

Once she’s back home safely in her cage you leave for work.

—

Credit to @alittlewhump for proof reading <3333 big hearts for you <3

Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @dramat1ques @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @whither-wander-whump @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @copperyote @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @sunshiline-writes @whump-in-the-closet

#cyoa whump #interactive whump #g/t writing #g/t art #whump art #whump writing #tw broken bones #pet whump #tiny whump #medical whump #breezy’s post #hamster interactive story #breezys art #breezys writing #poll #tw hospitals

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thescentofrainonstone · 1 year ago

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It's almost a year since I started practicing as a Witch. I grew up amongst cartomancers and weird shit like people adding blood to others food as a love spell, and as a child I saw it as such a common thing that I thought it was a folklorist extension of Catholicism. The warts on my knee were made to disappear by going to a remote well, get fig's milk on them and then throwing the fig in the well without looking back. Next year I opened my knee on gravel to the bone but sure enough the warts disappeared. So that's why I never cared about Witchcraft before because the way I had been exposed to it was... shady at best.

TW DEATH

Then my Cat died suddenly. He was in for a scan and needed to be sedated for it. His hearth did not survive the sedation. In my head the last thing he knew was that I left him with people who he did not know just like the family who abandoned him after having him 5 years, bringing him back to the shelter he was packed from when he was born.

Whiska was my family, as soon as I was living on my own in a flat I went to find a shelter because if o finslly had a safe roof over my head I felt the moral duty to share it with someone who needed it. And Whiska was my companion. I met him only a couple of months before I met my wife and he was absolutely, without question, an official part of my family.

When he passed I was thrown into an existential crisis that I don't think will ever actually pass. I wrote him a poem every day and they were all called "Bereavement #". I did it for 2 weeks and for 2 weeks I couldn't eat anything solid. For people to even remotely understand what o was going through I ad to start saying we had a death in the family.

Did you know that when working in an office, bereavement leave is one day? Just one. You either organise a funeral or you go to it, you can't do both. And we wonder why society is imploding...

Tomorrow at 4.15pm it will be a year that ove lived without him. Yet since I got his ashes back I had an artist commission a tiny portrait of him and every morning I say to it "Good Morning Whiska" and every night I say what I've said to him every night we lived together, and once again when, after rushing back to the vet, his eyes fixating the empty space and his consciousness already not there anymore despite his heartbeat, I held his paw and before letting him go I said once again "Good night Whiska, you're. Good kitty and I love you very much". And every night after that I still do.

I cried constantly for so many days that I lived with a constant headache and dehydrated. I was worried if that stopped and I got used to the pain without crying then I would have lost part of his memory. I don't cry every day anymore but I cannot think about him without ending up crying and in a way I'm glad, it's a reminder a proof of the hole he left that nothing in this life could ever fill, and I don't even want to. I honour the hole that's shaped like him and every tear is a show that he was there because that's why it's intolerable to love without him without crying.

In march I afopet 2 tuxedo cats who needed rehoming. I love them both but it has nothing to do with Whiska's loss, they have nothing to do with thbhole he left. Whiska was the excellent kitty. Every time I tell him I then turn to Stella and say "you're a pretty decent kitty" but only Whiska was excellent, that's his word, and it's necessary for me to hold on to what was His, not just something I say to my cats, but to Him.

I hold on to these rituals and they console me until I think that, without spirituality, without thinking that "if he was aware of anything he was aware of you holding his paw" all he knew before the end was that he was abandoned again. And with that I cannot live.

So that's why all the funerals, all he rituals are for those left behind: because we have to still live without them and if I think practically I feel no reason to.

So that's why my wife suggested spirituality, and officially then we've been witches ever since. Our first ritual was a spiritual funeral for Whiska and all I cared about after that was just spells that would protect myself and my wife: because after that loss nothing else matters but being with the creatures we love for as long as possible.

I'm still just as sad. And now I can't read what I wrote because of the tears so we end it here...

#bereavement #feline friends #cats of tumblr #cute cats #cat #tw death #witch #pagan witch #witchcraft #witchblr

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phone4pills · 1 month ago

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CHRIS DOESN’T BEG dealer!Chris x vet!Reader

smoking, vague mentions of animal injury, a little angst, toxic relationship, fake fluff

Removing your latex gloves, you walked out to the reception. It wasn’t as busy at it had been in the morning but there were still a good few creatures in the waiting room. Your phone was going off in your pocket. You rolled your eyes, opening the device and pressing on the messages app.

Chris

get out here

i want to see you

Gosh, the man was insufferable. You pulled on your jacket considering the temperature was dropping as fall rolled in. In a minute or so, you were making your way out the door that took you behind the small building where Chris was waiting for you. Blunt in hand. What a surprise.

You shook your head at the grin that settled on his face. His eyes scanned you up and down in your uniform, hair messily tied up, hands in your jacket pockets. A huff escaped your lips when he nodded his head back quickly, gesturing you towards him, leaning on the front of his car.

As much as you didn’t want to, your feet dragged you to Chris. You stood next to him, perching slightly on the hood of his mustang, watching as he took a drag of his shit. Without facing you, he asked, “How’re the animals treatin’ m’girl?” You sighed, silently recalling how many times you’d told him not to call you that.

“Fine, the rush has died down a little.” He nodded with a chuckle. Damn that stupid sound. That sound that made your heart flutter even though you promised yourself you’d resist. But it was useless, you were drawn to him. You’d ignored his messages all day. You thought you were on a roll. Until he actually showed up to your work. What were you supposed to do? Have him wait out there all day?

You knew he wouldn’t leave until you came out to see him, and you would rather have talked to him for a brief moment and send him on his way then have to walk out of the building at the end of the day and be forced to speak to him. That would be embarrassing. And you wouldn’t let yourself be embarrassed by him again.

“Nothin’ crazy today?” He pondered, wanting to hear more from you. To which you replied, “Y’know what they’re like. Getting ran over, knocking things down, the lot. And their owners are surprised when it results in a broken bone and a four-digit bill.”

Chris offered you the blunt, you were convinced you’d never turned down something so fast. “I can’t. And you shouldn’t be smoking back here anyway.”

Chris pushed himself off the hood and stood in front of you, feet pointed towards yours, his hand rested on the metal of the vehicle, trapping you where you were. You tutted, smelling the smoke from between his slightly parted lips. “Chris…”

“What’s with the attitude, ma? D’I do something?” You didn’t respond, only glancing to the side. But not for long, because the man’s hand found your chin, pulling you head to face him properly, tearing your gaze from the concrete ground. “Tell me.”

“Chris, you’re messed up. Who else pulls up to someone’s job with their eyes red off weed? I already told you, I can’t do this kinda shit.” A pout forms on your face as you stare up at him. Knowing Chris, you didn’t expect him to admit to anything emotional. All you could do was hope he understood you and maybe even felt bad.

“W’do y’a want, hm? You want me to start bringing coffees and shit? You’re lucky, y’know I could be with another girl right now. But I came here anyway. And now you’re telling me I shouldn’t have?”

I deep breath racked through your throat, filling your lungs before dispersing again. You find it hard to believe that the man could hear himself. And you wanted nothing more than to shout. To tell him loudly how much of a jerk he was. A beautiful and bewitching jerk. But before the words could slip from your lips, his head fell on your shoulder. His own lips planted kisses on your collarbone, groaning and humming. “I cut ‘em off okay? I only want you. Every part of you, baby. Please give me a chance.”

You wanted to melt into his embrace, to kiss him back. But deep down you knew fully well that it was just the grass talking. Chris was high out of his mind and it was obvious. Because Chris would never beg. Chris would never submit to you.

Your hand played with the hair on the back of his head, stretching and stroking. “Go home, Chris. Talk to me when you’re on the ground, not in the clouds.”

You called Matt to pick up his brother and went back into work with Chris on your mind. It was so hard to erase him from the confines of your head space. You wished he’d quit doing laps around your brain and just leave you alone. Especially when you had better things to be contemplating. Like the lives of innocent, and not so innocent, creatures.

Nevertheless, you texted him later that night.

Chris

this can’t happen again, Chris

you need to get it together

… typing

You didn’t bother reading the message, let alone waiting for it to send before you shut off your phone. You refused to let the thought linger on your mind and therefore, only moments later, you drifted off to sleep.

New AU! I’ve had this on my mind for a while and finally decided to launch the idea. AU. Send me ideas and inspo for the AU, also become an emoji anon, go to my anons page to see which ones are taken. And find more sturniolo works in my MASTERLIST. Love you guys. And I’m gonna be pissed if this doesn’t get any attention because half of you have been complaining about too much smut on here.

- ©phone4pills

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catlookingfromabove · 7 months ago

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Listen to me trying to cope with my kitty's death

(TW very detailed death)

(but also very cute catpics at the end)

First of all, if I don't write this down I'll probably go crazy. Feel free to leave, this is purely for my mental (in)stability's sake.

Just when I tought life can't fuck me over anymore, that I had everything safe and secure this happens. My soft little cat decided to dance on the railing of a seventh storey balcony and she fell.

She did this all the time but she was very skilled and managed not to fall for 8 years. I always got her down from there when I could but it was always very stressful and I didn't want to accidentally push her down on the wrong side. She slipped and almost fell at least two times but I grabbed her each time and luckily she lived to see another day.

Not this time though.. I just left the building for school when my mom called that she fell. My heart already stopped then and there. I ran back as fast as I could and I searched ths bushes under the balconies. I was hoping she landed well and only broke a bone or something. I soon found her, she cried out painfully as she heard my voice. She was lying on the bare grass, unable to move and constantly crying. Her lungs made the most awful crackling sound known to me, she looked like she was short of air. I crouched down and looked at her, too scared to even touch her. She wasn't bleeding. Running out of time, I gently pat her and lifted her into my arms. She doesn't like being lifted but this time her little fragile body didn't resist at all. And it was terrifying. She was crying so horribly and I started to panic so I put her back onto the ground. My mom came running then, she picked her up with the blanket without hesitation.

There is a vet 200 meters away from our home, and we ran there, desperately trying to get help but it wasn't open so early in the morning. There was nobody there. My kitty stopped crying somewhere around there. Only the crackling snoring remained. And the twitching.

We called a taxi and we waited. It was getting far too long.. I couldn't even get to hold her. My mom told me not to look at her. She was dying already..

We got to a vet, finally. But time ran out long ago by then.. in the taxi my mom told me she was most likely already dead. I was trying so hard not to cry and break down in the car.

The doctor told us they could take care of her body. I was offered two choices. We either leave her at the vet or I can bury her at my dad's hause (mom and dad live separately). Only twenty minutes passed then. Twenty miserable minutes and I had to decide whether I leave my cat there or I bury her myself. This was not I was planning my day to go. Surreal. Just surreal.

In the end my mom told me it would be best to leave her. I really didn't wanted to leave her. When I woke up in the morning she sat on my chest and purred and barely an hour later she's already gone. This just can't be true. Not now. Please not now.

I touched her little paw and it was cold. I was horrified. I caressed her head. She used to like that. No reaction. Unfocused eyes. Slightly open mouth. Grass and dirt all over her soft fur. I couldn't take it anymore. I paid because mom left her wallet at home. I touched her little nose one last time and I rushed out of the vet.

I cried out just like she did. But I still had to get he somehow. So I bit my lip and got home without whining.

My strength evaporated as soon as I got behind closed doors. All hell broke loose and I cried and cried till my mom had to feed me some sleeping pills so I could cry myself back to sleep.

This was my third exposure to death but it hit me the hardest. Her cries will forever haunt my nightmares.

I'm also worried about my other cat. He'll be lonely from now on, because I'm sure as hell won't bring another cat into this flat. I'll do my best to spoil him so he can let the other go. I hope he'll stay the goofy orange boy he is and won't be depressed.

12 hours passed since she died. My head hurts and I wish I could have saved her. I'm constantly keeping an eye on Prince (this is the name of my one remaining cat) because I'm afraid he'll disappear if I don't. I cry every other five minutes. I can't take more chill pills. I'm eating candy and I hope I don't throw up.

Ribbon (the kitty who turned into an angel) was the most beautiful cat the world has ever seen. She was also the softest and had the roundest, most squishable head, not even mentioning her gorgeous eyeliner (far better than any hooman could manage). She was undoubtedly crazy but which cat isn't. She was shy but very clingy. Every night she either curled up in my armpit or slept on my chair. When a fight occured between me and my mom she always showed up and yelled at us in high pitched meows. When I worked at my desk she slept on my lap and couldn't be bothered by what I had to focus on, she absolutely demanded scratches behind her ears. She had zero hunting instincts, no string or toy I brought forth could stray her from her 18h beauty naps (she occasionally hunted for my toes at night but that doesn't count). A true princess for my Prince. They were best friends. Inseparable. The Beauty™ and the dumb orange. They had naps together all the time. Prince used to give little kisses to her but she hissed. Prehaps he ruined her perfectly shaped and styled fur, or his breath was stinky. We'll never know. When I cut ones nails the other always watched and prepared to run to the rescue if I were to hurt them (which I never did but they wickedly destroyed my chair so I had to cut their nails if I wanted to keep my furniture intact or at least usable). Damn, what a duo they were. Amazing.

I'll miss her so much. I already miss her so much.. I hope she can eat all the snacks she wants in kitty heaven. I hope I'll never forget her.

Bye bye my sweet kitten

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siderealxmelody · 2 months ago

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She sighed, melting into his touch. She pressed her face into his shoulder, tugging him closer.

"You must be very rattled if you're opting to stay around people."

She ran her fingers up his arm, stopping at his neck, feeling his pulse beat under her fingers.

She exhaled, feeling the steady beat.

"There was so many times I wanted to do this back then...when you'd come back covered in blood and I -"

She swallowed, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Would it be foolish to make a vow to leave this realm together?"

She wouldn't survive it, whatever part of her soul still held here - whatever heart she had was his. She'd - she'd wither to -

"Oshuna she's fine, the healers said -"

Elianna flinched at the doors burst open. Her mother rushing to them, glaring at her father.

"You think I just trust some random healer with our baby girl's care?"

Zain sighed closing the door and leaning against it as Oshuna moved to her side of the bed.

"You vetted every healer we had -"

"Are you alright Elianna? Have you eaten?"

Elianna sighed batting her mother away.

"Clearly the wounds are gone Mama. I'm fine, I'd prefer to sleep actually if you both could -"

"Kaden! Oh - I - darlings, I'm so proud! Zain do tell Kahlo will you? Aderyn will be thrilled."

Elianna finally moved, hissing as Oshuna reached for Kaden. Oshuna barred her teeth, red eyes flaring bright. Elianna was still too weak to stop her from touching her mate.

"Are you alright Kaden? Have you eaten love?"

She ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead. She shot Zain a look rounding on him.

"Did you feed them? The boy is all skin and bones!"

"I -"

"Kaden I'll get food delivered, I'll let you both eat in peace."

She rounded back on Kaden as Zain let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. Those red eyes pinning on Kaden.

Elianna tensed.

"Mama can you go get the food ready please? I -"

"In a minute Elianna. This conversation is long overdue. And I will have it now or later, but it will happen before you both run off. Kaden do you understand the consequences of breaking the heart a second time? And I adore you love, but you will still need to do trials to earn her -"

"Mama."

"I will not relent on that."

Elianna sighed and pressed her face into his neck.

"Ignore her please. You don't need to answer that. And Mama I hurt him too, it's -"

------

The blood applied to her skin had healed the worst of it. She didn't like how tired she still was, how she hadn't been able to change.

She looked to the door and back to Kaden.

"Can we leave now?"

She should stay she knew that, her family was being respectful but it was a lot for them to take. Even if someone had told them she'd been healed...she just - she wanted time with him.

It wasn't even like she wanted some sexual release, she just wanted him, wanted quiet. She looked back to their hands, tracing the marks again.

"I - I want to change, I want quiet and I - you know how my parents are."

She loved them dearly, but her father would launch into some story about the times of before and her mother would fuss over her. Not to mention Obaneryn....she was surprised he hadn't set up gaurds or stayed himself.

She let out a laugh, gazing up at him.

"Not to mention if we leave now we'll miss your mother."

Again, she adored his parents. But Aderyn was someone who would throw a celebration over seeing an eclipse. She'd have demanded they celebrate properly with a ceremony and court events.

Things she may have agreed to a century or two ago. Or maybe even last week, right now she was just tired and wanted to stop worrying about who would barge in on them.

#IVE BEEN WAITING TO SHARE OSHUNA

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

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DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

752 notes · View notes

bleungrh · 2 years ago

Text

Gojo and Cats

ahaha hi..... been a while

Anyways :D

I have been absolutely obsessed with the idea of Gojo owning a cat.

Also this is gonna be hella long because I have so so many thoughts about this I NEED TO LET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM.

I feel like he would be so so so dramatic, insufferable and overly affectionate with cats.

Now, I don't think he'll willingly go to a shelter to adopt a cat or something like that. He probably thinks oh no I don't have the time to take care of a one I'm too busy, besides who's gonna take care of it when I'm out to work

He probably used to play with stray cats during his highschool years, but he'd never think of taking one home.

Picture this though:

He's coming home from a mission, it's dark and pouring outside; that doesn't bother him though because he's got his infinity to keep him dry. As he's walking through the rain he senses something, then hears it - barely audible meowing. Gojo takes a couple of more steps to locate the sound and he sees a cardboard box. It doesn't even look like a box anymore, the rain making it look like it's falling apart. But inside it there's a small little kitty meowing its heart out; soaked to the bone, shaking, its eyes glued shut. Probably less then a month old. At this rate it has no chances of survival, so of course the only logical thing to do in Gojo's mind is to take it with him.

No vet clinic is open at this time though, so Gojo can only take the kitty home and buy some bare necessities from a 24-hour market.

Once he comes back home he immediately turns on a heater, even if its summer. His biggest priority is to warm the kitty immediately so he places a few small towels in front of his heater so they can warm up, then he himself sits in front of it with the kitten in his hands; he burrito wraps it with the heated up towels throughout the hours.

He does not sleep that night (not that he gets that much sleep in general) and the moment it's morning he rushes to the nearest vet.

After that? That kitty is glued to him. He feeds it every hour with special kitten milk replacer/formula (since regular cow milk won't provide the needed proteins). Cleans it after every meal, helps it pee and poo. Gojo at that point is a whole momma cat.

And how does he manage to do that with his work schedule? Well... for the first week or so he would almost get in trouble for it. If he has classes he'll literally just call his students to his apartment so they can all look at the kitty. (They cannot believe or imagine how careful their teacher is with such a small and fragile animal) And if he has a mission and has to travel? Nope, sorry I'm unavailable, I'll do it next week.

At that point Yaga is personally banging on his door to demand an explanation as to Why are you neglecting your duties, what is happe- oh my god are you serious

Gojo opens the door and Yaga sees a little calico kitten snuggled in his arms. He could only facepalm and let out a heavy sigh as Gojo snickers. But the disappointed principal cannot stay sour for long as he stares at the little creature snuggled into the arms of a man as big as Gojo.

"Her name is Papaya but I like to call her my little princess :D"

"Gojo......"

Once Papaya gets a bit older Gojo would even take her with him to class. Almost everyone is ecstatic to see an adorable little cat. Yuuji and Nobara can't stop squealing and petting her, Megumi watches from the distance and acts grumpy. But when no one is looking he gives the little Paya a good and relaxing belly rub.

As the months go by Gojo feels confident enough to leave his little princess alone at his place. And when he comes home the first thing he does is shout-

"Papaya!!!!! My little adorable princess!!!!!"

A jingle of a bell is heard (because of course he's gonna buy her a pink little collar with a bell) as well as a meow meow meow at every step of hers. And when she trots up right in front of him, looking at him expectantly? The strongest man can only pick her up and shower her with kisses as she purrs in satisfaction.

"Did my little girl miss me? I certainly missed you !!!"

At any given time she would be found comfortably laying on his shoulder without a care in the world.

Other times she would rub herself all over his face as if he is the best scratch post ever. Only purrs and giggles can be heard in the room.

And when he sleeps, she would curl up next to him, maybe even sleep on his chest if she's feeling mischievous. Gojo is so used to seeing a pile of white and spotted fur upon waking up that he feels empty when he has to go on missions out of town or out of the country.

Papaya has him wrapped around her paw and honestly Gojo isn't even complaining.

Nanami, Utahime and few others have seen him and how affectionately he treats Paya, how careful and meticulous he's taking care of her and they simply cannot believe that that is the same person. No way someone as silly and as annoying as Gojo is willing to put so much effort into looking after a cat.

He doesn't care, how can he care when all of his worries are immediately washed away when his little princes trots up to him, jumps on the table and bumps her head against his - her purring loud and clear.

He takes so many pictures of her. He always posts her on his story, he always finds an opportunity to be annoying and mention her in a conversation. Everyone has to know how adorable Papaya was today.

Papaya supremacy (Gojo started the movement but only Yuuji and Nobara are supporting it)

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo thoughts #you do not understand i have been thinking about this FOR A WHOLE WEEK #I LITERALLY NEED TO SHARE THIS WITH THE WORLD #also i may have written this a bit messily but ah #also sorry for being dead for months i genuinely didnt know what to post (despite having two drafts ahaa....)#theres probably grammar mistakes and typos but its almost 5am skdjfkjsdf #anyways I LOVE GOJOOOOOOOO #PAPAYAAAAAAAAA #gojo imagine #gojo scenario

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write something where a Supervillain was an absolute jerk to hero, but when she finds him, tortured, sick, and left to die, she helps him anyway?

Thank you!!!

Sure thing! Sorry this took a while. I had a million ideas for this and had to focus in on one.

Dear Diary

Warnings: fevers, delirium, left to die, betrayed, Stockholm Syndrome (implied, not directly stated), fungal infection, exposed bone, broken ribs and nose, starvation, implied neglect, bathing, stripping of clothes (non-sexual), blood, crying

Hero sat down at her desk, illuminated by a small lamp and pulled out her worn, leather notebook. She opened the first thirty pages to an empty one, taking brief notes of the way the pages were clearly, neatly filled out top to bottom.

Then, she took her pen- an object of sentiment, nearly as old as her, and gifted to her by her late grandfather- and wrote, as neat as the previous pahlges, in her cursive sign:

Dear Diary,

Then she stopped writing and glanced over at the sleeping figure in the nearby bed. His brown hair tousled, but neat. Old injuries securely bound by more bandages than Hero cared to admit. His once flushed and feverish skin, now placid and evenly moist, was completely neutral with no signs of that agony that brought screams that still haunted Hero at night.

Smiling, she changed her writing to a more easy going print and started writing.

I apologize for not writing recently. It's been so hectic that I think I need a vacation. So, before I tire my hand out complaining, let me tell you about the past couple weeks...

Two weeks ago:

Hero drove smoothly over the recently tarred road. It was night and the sky was absolutely glamorous with stars and constellations of all sorts of celestial bodies. She sighed, contentedly, and aimlessly tapped her fingers against the black steering wheel. She hummed no song in particular as cheery eyes scanned the long, expansive track in front of her.

Until suddenly, the monotonous road was broken by a Ford stranded across the center. Thankfully seeing it immediately, Hero flashed the lights on top of her patrol car, and stepped out with her gun in hand.

A F250, manual with only two seats, but it was empty. Hero raised her gun again and stalked to the other side. Nothing, just an eerie, sporadic vehicle in the middle of a county road.

She whisked open the door. The acrid smell of tobacco and liquor plummeted into her nose and she grimaced. But, like the exterior of the whole truck, there was nothing in the cab.

"Hmm." Hero shrugged, and slammed the door shut, slightly annoyed. She was about to call it in when she heard a tiny, pained whimper.

She tensed, bringing her gun back up again, and spun around. Nothing. Not even a deer or a racoon.

Then, the whimper sounded again.

"Who's there?" Hero asked, but she was starting to think it was just a young fawn or a toad or something.

But it sounded so human.

"Help."

The plea, the breathless plea, sounded the still air. Hero, now completely able to locate it, bounded to the bed of the truck and looked in.

To find a man, bloodied and bruised, with sweat glistening across his dirtied face. He seemed to be conscious- at least awake enough to call for help, as weak the call was- but his eyes were half-lidded and dazed. Blood, still fresh, streamed from a very broken nose.

"Sir?" Hero asked, lowering her gun and putting it in the holster.

The man's eyes opened slightly and he looked at Hero with wonder. A small smile formed on parched, ruined lips. Tears seemed to flood his eyes and he started to cry.

Baffled, Hero climbed into the truck and gathered the man into her arms, mindful not to hurt his neck or spine.

"Hey buddy," Hero cooed, concern evident in her voice. "Are you okay?" No, obviously.

"She-she left me," Supervillain rasped. "She left me here." He started to sob, clawing at Hero's shirt. "Villain left me."

Wait Villain? The stuck-up, obnoxious, feminine bastard that acted as if the world bowed down to her? Hero looked down at the shivering man. Villain, as arrogant as she was, wouldn't hurt a person to this grave extent, unless...

Unless it was...

"Supervillain?" Hero asked. The man turned his head and only then did Hero recognize the sharpness of his jaw and those dashingly handsome golden brown eyes. He let out a hoarse whine and pressed his face back into Hero's leg, chest rattling with broken ribs and mucus.

It was him.

Hero pushed the man off her lap and scowled. He didn’t deserve comfort, or love. Heck, he deserved whatever catastrophe Villain wreaked upon him.

But, after that cruel shove, Supervillain started to scream from the pain of both his horrific injuries and the fresh feeling of betrayal again. He curled his battered form into himself and started a nonstop crying session.

Feeling awfully guilty, Hero laid her hand on his hot shoulder and sighed. She took it back, no matter how mean or terrible a person is, they didn't deserve this.

Before Hero knew it, Supervillain was asleep in the back of her car. As she drove home, night shift forgotten, she thought of her plan. He needed a bath to wash the injuries out and to see the full extent of them. And then he probably needed stitches and a few bones set.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at the limp body. He was breathing, but very subtlety. If it wasn't for the periodic moan or a distressed cry here and there, one might've mistaken him for dead.

Hero shook her shoulders out and looked back at the road, slightly paranoid that she would stumble across another hazardly placed truck. Specifically a manual F250 owned by a certain woman named Villain.

But of course, she didn't. She arrived at home safe and sound, turned off her car, and gathered the now unconscious supervillain in her arms.

"Okay bud," she whispered, hauling him in a bridal carry as she made it to the door. If he wasn't so starved and lightweight, he would've been a big problem to lift.

She opened the door, then immediately in a sudden instinctual rush to hurry, locked the door. She took Supervillain to her bedroom and laid him across the floor. Then, she took off his shirt to reveal a whole menu of wounds.

He had, across both his sides, large purple- nearly black- bruises around his ribcage. They greened at the edges, leading to his torso where cuts and puncture wounds made up a revolting soup. His broken ribs barely had anything in the terms of flesh or muscles on them. Only skin.

His abdomen was sunken in, remnants of days without food, revealing high, pointed hip bones. Hero winced, running a finger lightly across a particular large cut. It was so deep that it revealed the ivory bone beneath. Supervillain, even in his unconscious state, stiffened and whimper pathetically.

Sleep was not an escape from the pain.

Hero stripped the rest of his clothes off. Even his legs and lower body were covered in those red and purple marks. She picked him up again and carried him to the bathtub where she delicately showered the dirt and grime out of infected wounds and off his face.

When it was over, Hero was dumbfoundly shocked at the lack of color in his ghostly face. He didn't wake throughout the process; he was throughly exhausted and sick. Fever raged behind those closed eyelids, appearing in his hot breaths and lolling head. Hero put some old shorts of her's that she bought at a garage sale a couple months ago. They were way too big, but maybe a bit of foreboding told her that they may be necessary one day.

Then she scooped him back up and carried him to her room, laying him on top of the bed, and got to work on stitching and bandaging the wounds.

Supervillain stirred when the needle accidentally pricked a bruise. The second his eyes opened, he screamed and tried to thrash away.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" He yelled. "Villain? Villain! Help me, please!" He started to sob, pressing his cheek into the pillow. "Please... V-vill...ain."

"Shh, shh," Hero laid a hand on his shoulder. He tensed and made a blubbering sound. "You're safe, okay?"

"No, no... I-i want Villain," he sniffled, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. "I-i need her."

Hero felt her heartbreak at the desperation taut in Supervillain's voice. She gently placed her hand on his forehead in an attempt to comfort and check his fever. He was hot, super-duper hot.

Supervillain pulled away from the touch, watching her with wary eyes. Hero gave a small smile and stepped away. He didn't trust her and her presence might freak him out more. So she stepped away and went to her desk, back facing him.

After a while, his sniffles ceased. Hero took the risk and glanced at him to find him asleep. She sighed, the poor guy was so sick and hurt and tired...

Hero walked back over and went to work again. She applied some antibiotic ointment on some of the more severe wounds, hoping the infection wasn't too deep.

She was about to get to work on tending to his legs, when something in his hair caught her eye. It was a tuff.

Curious, she went over and gently pulled on it to find that it just fell out. A feeling of nausea rose in her throat as more and more hair fell loose. Crunching her brows together, she cleared a hole spot on his scalp to reveal reddened, puffy and dry skin.

A fungal infection. She recognized this from when she took zoology classes in high school. They went on a field trip and the staff gratefully allowed them into the vet area.

Hero rummaged through her medical supplies and found an antifungal cream for athlete's foot. She hesitated, not knowing if something for feet would be good for scalp.

But it was all she had, and something was better than nothing.

So she spread the cream on Supervillain's head, watching as the rose colored flesh glistened with newfound moisture.

Then, she went back to work on stitching and cleaning the wounds of his lower body.

When that long feat was done, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen peas. She wrapped it in a towel and placed it on Supervillain's forehead. Even unconscious, he whimpered and relaxed into the new, relieving sensation.

Hero started to pace. As the minutes ticked by, his breaths seemed to get shallower and shallower and then would increase in a sudden gasp. Periodically, his eyes would flutter open, but only for a moment before he passed out again.

She ended up sitting on the other side of her bed, far away enough to not scare him if he ever regained consciousness enough to be aware of her, but close enough to monitor him.

Hero felt herself dozing as she watched Supervillain's chest rise and fall, but suddenly he awoke fully. She started backwards, then froze. Maybe he would fall asleep again...

But he stared crying, mucus filled lungs heaving. Then he started sobbing, then wailing.

"Villain!" He cried, loudly. "I-i need you." He pulled his legs into himself and Hero did nothing to stop it- too petrified about him hurting himself if he got too spooked.

"Please," he mumbled. "Please, please, please. Don't leave me. Leave me... please no. I don't want you to, I love you please."

Hero's heart broke at that.

Supervillain went silent, apart from nonstop screams of fear and incoherent begging. It got to the point where Hero had to roll him over and gather him into her chest.

"Hey, shh, shh," she cooed, rubbing his back. "It'll be okay. It'll all be okay. Deep breaths... that's it. Breathe in, breathe out. Good job."

Supervillain calmed down and clutched at Hero's shirt. He buried himself into her and fell back asleep.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #villain whumper #tw blood #heros and villains #hero x supervillain #fungal infection #implied stockholm syndrome #stockholm syndrome #feverish whumpee #feverish supervillain #delirious whumpee #delirious supervillain #delirium #left to die #betrayed #betrayal #crying tw #broken bones

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killerskillercaptain · 3 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not - part I

this work is based on this request

pairing : levi ackerman x reader

wc 1,8 k +

themes : reincarnation au, canonverse to modern au, Levi and Reader both reincarnate in modern au, Levi remembers his past life, reader does not.

warnings : lots of angst, death of reader, cursing.

You dragged your blades along the flesh of another titan's neck, tearing through it just enough to kill the giant. You watched the titan fall and crash while you landed on the ground using your ODM gear.

"Shit !" you muttered a bit panicked

Those were your last usable blades, all of the others already broke and the remaining ones were too damaged, weathered by the long and repetitive moves.

You looked around you, there were so many soldiers dead, their bodies lying flat on the ground, but you couldn't spot a single blade fit for use near any of the corpses, all of their swords had either been snapped in half, crushed or are still planted on the giant bodies trying to eat you alive.

Never had a battle been so demanding and tiresome, you don't recall seing a mission this gruesome, and you were a vet ! If there was a hell on earth, this would be it. Even the weather wasn't in your favor; it was raining blood, the air was filled with a repugnant smell that you soldiers were all too familiar with, the smell of titans body fluids and body parts rotting not far away from you. All of this was bearable you thought, grown accustomed to, what was never tolerable was the cries of your comrades getting eaten alive. The sound of their bodies crushed or getting bitten sounded new each time. It was strange, there was all this killing going on, all these horrible deaths happening right now, the rain and the muffled sounds of bones being crushed at the palms of faith, and some last words you could barely comprehend, but strangely enough, time seemed to stop for you, everything around you began to become distant and you could feel what resembled a calmness inside the turmoil inside of you. What was this odd feeling you thought, looking down at your hands, you observed the spoilt blades of your two swords, your hands weren't shaking anymore, and you found yourself in a bizarre state of apathy.

Did you accept your nearing death ? Were you going to stop fighting and let today be your last ? What could you do ? There were still more titans than soldiers, you were on your knees, incapable of making them move, even if there was a blade you could use on a body somewhere, you wouldn't be able to reach it without getting in the visual field of a titan, it would be like rushing to your death. You were stuck, your years of experience had taught you to assess quickly and effectively situations, and you knew you couldn't kill or save now, you could only run for your life, an option you couldn't bring yourself to do, maybe someone will come, someone with reinforcement and equipment.

You couldn't desert a battlefield. Looking up at the sky, you closed your eyes, cancealing the horrors of your surroundings, you prayed for one person to show up, only one person could make a way out of this hopeless situation.

Eyes still closed, you thought about Levi Ackerman, you wondered where he could be right now, you thought about the way he methodically does his job, nice and clean, no one being able to match his skills, you thought about how much he hated casualties and pointless deaths. As foolish and frivolous it was, you thought about his jet black hair and the way it would fall on his face while he escapes from a titan's grip, how his jaw clenches when he's faced with a particularly bothersome specimen, you weren't aware you picked up on those things until now, not to forget how his body spins, like a dancer in a deadly ballet. You also thought about how he always kept an eye on you every time you were together on a field, his eyes always trying to locate you somehow, you caught him so many times throwing worried glances at you, especially in dangerous situations, more than any other of his comrades. Did it mean anything ? You never thought about it that way, come to think of it, you never knew what Levi Ackerman thought of you, were you just a another comrade to him or someone more important ? Those questions were going to stay unanswered. All those times you caught him eyeing you, overprotecting you, asking you if you ate, slept, rested at the most random of occasions.

And him ? Did he know what you thought of him ?

You felt the ground tremble underneath you all of a sudden, you looked beside you and you saw a giant human-like feet, its nails extremely dirty, a long and deep cut carving an opening at its ankle, leaving the insides completely visible. When did you get accustomed to such disgusting sights ? The titan bent over, watching your form, you were looking up at him now.

He has a friendly face you thought.

You pictured Levi in your head, for maybe what you thought was your last moment. He hated futile losses.

"Don't you dare die on me" he always said.

An ear piercing sound blew out of nowhere and a black signal tore the sky apart. You saw a small figure jump from tree to tree using an ODM gear, you didn't recognize who it was until the silhouette landed next to you, only inches away. Blood and rain on his face, Levi pulled you up by your underarm.

"GET UP ! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING ?

"I don't- i don't know what had gotten into me Levi"

"I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT MOVE IT"

He let go of your arm and grabbed you by the collar of your cape and forced you to stand on your now shaky legs.

"I'm out of gas Levi"

"What ?"

If you've never seen Levi panic, you did now. His eyes darted around frenetically, from the titans to the dead bodies then back to you again. He was grabbing you by the arm again, you could feel his long fingers digging into your forearm, he was tense and panicking. Panicking because both of you didn't have horses, but mostly because he had only one gas bottle left.

Levi looked down, trying to asses the situation and come with a plan for both of you to shun the titans and get out safely while having just enough gas for one person. Feeling a hot puff on the top of your heads you both looked up just in time to see two big eyes and a large mouth ready to chop both of your heads off, Levi shot his grapple hooks and pulled you by the waist with him, you escaped this one, but he couldn't guarantee the others, this situation couldn't go one he thought. You landed far enough to be out of reach from the titan who just attacked you, but you could already spot two blonde abnormals noticing you and coming for you. Levi quickly grabbed his gas container and detached it from his gear.

"Here ! Take it ! This should be enough for you to escape far from titan territory !" Levi shouted under the heavy cascade of rain.

"What ? No !"

"Don't be fucking stupid ! Take it ! I can manage to escape without it somehow ! Forget about completing the mission ! We retreat NOW !"

You reached for the container and placed it on your own gear before standing up. One of the abnormal had come so close now you could see the veins on his ridiculously large stomach. Levi grabbed your arm one last time "I'm going to shot my hooks at the nearest tree, i'm gonna distract this one so you can escape ! You take the opposite direction"

You nodded while the ground shook harder now that the titan was in front of you, his gigantic form casting its shadow over you. You actioned your hand grips, your hooks flew right into a tree in the opposite direction of where Levi went, you prepared yourself to use the gas to speed up.

Levi thinking the titan would naturally follow him instead, landed on a giant oak before turning around. His face darkened as soon as his eyes landed on you. You were struggling to get past the titan who was still chasing you and ignoring Levi, how come you weren't moving fast, the amount of gas should have been enough.

Levi's felt his heart stop and sink down his stomach, he instinctively reached behind him and pulled up the container he still had.

It was full.

He had given you the wrong gas container.

He mixed them up and gave you the empty one.

That's why you were so slow, too slow.

Too late.

Looking up, afflicted, he launched forward screaming your name, but it was in vain and he knew it. He couldn't take his eyes off your small figure getting picked up by a giant human hand who didn't have the any struggle catching up with you.

You think you heard him scream

You think you heard him scream your name

You're not sure, but you think you heard him slash the titan's fingers and landing with you on the ground, the titan's blood pouring down on both of you, hot and sticking.

For a moment, you thought you were going to make it, but you got suddenly conscious of the grotesque laceration on your lower abdomen and knew that this was it. You weren't going to make it.

An indescribable pain, a man's cry of misery, and cold blood running through your veins, you watched your vision go black, and for a split of second, the feeling of falling down an immense pit was all you could think of, the voice of Levi's cries resonating against the walls of what you assumed was your consciousness.

"I'm sorry ! I'm so sorry !" "Forgive me !"

***

When you opened your eyes, the sunlight blasting through a nearby window blasted your vision, when your eyes adjusted to the lightening, you realized you were in a room painted with an immaculate white.

How did you get in this hospital room ?

Wait, how did you know this was a hospital room ?

Because it looks familiar

You tried to recall anything prior to this instant, but you couldn't. Your mind was blank, you grabbed your head with your two hands, how come your memory was so blank ?

Outside of the building, you could hear chanting ambulances and honking cars in the distance, making your head throb painfully. You looked at your right, a bed table was there, on top was a bottle of mineral water, your keys, and your purse with a stethoscope dangling from it. There was also flowers dipping in a small amount of water inside a glass.

Your purse ? Your keys ? You don't remember coming here by yourself ! You tried to get up and get out of bed but the thumping inside your head quickly urged you to lay back down rapidly. You closed your eyes to try and shut the pain but heard footsteps shuffling cautiously inside the room, eyes still closed you heard a familiar soft and young voice ask if you were awake.

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