#anyway. i hope this makes sense. my brain's all fogged lmao

[happyk44]

Nico who is so painfully self-aware of who he is and how that affects how the world sees him. Like. You know, just all the Hades/Pluto kids are violently self-aware. They know the power that thrums at their fingertips, the gravedirt that sloughs through their veins, the shadows in their lungs. It's what makes them powerful, this unhidden knowledge. Their cousins step around their own powers, trying to find sense in their father's domains and they, meanwhile, already know, with or without outside help, because power sits in the body, sits in the soul - their domain, their control.

They know that people are scared for reasons beyond their control and it's upsetting, but fuck it, it's gonna happen, might as well move past it.

Someone says to him, "I know you think you're scary and hard to love" and he just cuts in with "No, I don't. I don't think I'm hard to love. I'm easy to love. People just choose not to. I'm not scary either, but people want to be scared of something and I'm an easy choice. Why do you think I'm hard to love? Why do you think I'm scary?"

[chocolate-parfait]

Hello! Can I get a headcanon where MC(they/them) gets a little lonely so they climb a tree in the middle of the night to get to Comte/Mozart/Napoleon's room window. How would the boys react?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY!!! +they're more scenarios than headcanons I hope you dont mind ;-; (I also hope you dont mind the amount of cheesiness i put into this lmao)

(+Trees shouldn't stay at a arm's length from houses because they can cause big problems in case of storms or things like that,, let's pretend for the sake of the story that they don't and that's why they're so near the windows)

Comte

Mama Comte was just chilling in his armchair, drinking a glass of red wine while letting his thoughts chase each other in endless circles, vivid images of past memories dancing behind his closed eyelids. More often than he liked to admit, he'd find himself in these exact circumstances, and that night was certainly no different. It was probably way past midnight when the still silence that hovered in the room was interrupted by a small whisper, followed by another and another one again. Attracted by the curious sound the pureblood got up from his sit and walked to the window, opening it with one swift gesture

"Comte, here!"

After his dark pupils focused on a silhouette that was undeniably yours, a rare look of shock and disbelief crept upon his features. Despite having risked falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes multiple times while climbing all the way to one of the highest branches of the tree, the man's expression made the effort more than worth the danger

Before he could ask you what in the world you were doing perched on a tree branch in front of his room at such a late hour, you eagerly told him why, words leaving your mouth in a single breath

"I-i couldn't fall asleep and thought of you and then I had this sudden urge to see you but I didn't know if you were awake so I climbed this tree to see if your light was on and then-"

As his caramel eyes softened and a warm smile appeared on his lips, Comte asked for you to stay still, and mere seconds after the last syllable reached your ears, you heard the fluttering of his coat that was now right in front of your widened eyes

Had he???just???jumped from his window????to land?????on a tree branch????next to you??? MC: why though? Comte: why not- MC: BUT why th- Comte: why not.

Giggling at your reaction while securing you against his chest, something was extremely clear in his eyes. Since you came all the way up there just to see him, it would have been a terrible waste to just send you away, right? And you knew he wouldn't have taken a no as an answer

"Hold on tight, ma chérie. We wouldn't want you falling down, now would we?"

Taking advantage of the position you were both in and with the excuse of possibly falling down, you contentedly snuggled in the crook of his neck; soft, expensive fabric caressing your cheek while his perfume rubbed on you, sure to remain there for at least a week

Comte on the other hand didn't complain nor move away, watching as your hair moved under the moonlight, softly swayed by the wind

Maybe spending a night in someone's company was a better alternative than staying alone, after all

Mozart

Mozart hadn't realized it had gotten that late until he finally closed the fall board of his piano, looking out of the window to see the stars and a full moon shining gently over the dim lit marble pavement of the music room

Almost one year ago on a night with the same moon, you walked out of Comte's door, looking as confused and scared as a little fawn. Since then you worked hard all over the mansion doing all kind of tasks, and though he'd have loathed the idea before, you two ended up getting incredibly close. Only lately he had started noticing many weird little behaviors that were slowly becoming a part of his routine; the way he had now stopped putting off having breakfast to play the piano in order to see you sooner, how his guts seemed to writhe whenever he saw you smiling at someone else, and as if it wasn't already enough, he found his thirst for blood more and more insatiable

Knowing what that meant but still fearing the answer, he tore himself away from the disheartening path his thoughts were taking, finally snapping back to reality. When he did so, a gleam coming from the tree near the window caught his attention. The closer he got, the more he seemed to distinguish your moonlit form standing in the foliage. Was he hallucinating now? Were his mind and heart so full of thoughts of you to the point of imagining your figure in the weirdest of places?

Before he could realize that you were in fact right outside his window, you called out to him, causing the poor man to flinch in surprise. Despite the harsh scolding that followed your appearance, just seeing his face was enough to ease the stingy feeling that was keeping your heart in a tight embrace. Seeing the bittersweet look in your eyes, Mozart couldn't stop his voice and gaze from softening considerably. But how could he not? Over the past months he had subconsciously started to consider you the one closest to his heart, and you were, more than he was ready to admit, his worst weakness

Sighing to himself as he reached past the parted glass panels to brush some leaves off your hair, he asked you "So, what are you doing here at this ungodly hour of the night?"

Amethyst spheres focusing on your expression, you told him the whole truth, not that you could easily make up a lie, seeing the position you were in. "I know you don't like it when people come into the music room, so this was the easiest way..." As if he had the strength and willpower to get angry at you, he thought. "A-anyways I-...I just wanted to see you, that's all."

Oh Gott, if only you could hear the way his blood pace sped up its tempo at the sound of those words, though you probably could see the way his usually pale cheeks were now flushed in a lovely shade of red. He, too, missed you, and now that the constant feeling of longing had met a correspondent in your gaze, it reached its bursting point

Not bothering to ask you permission to, he roughly grasped your wrist and pulled you away with superhuman strength from the offshoot you were sitting on. You were now on sill of the window, facing him and just inches from his doll-like face. Glancing up at him you found a pair of violet eyes staring back at you with the intensity and strength of a storm. Had he always been this bold? Had his irises always been this full of raw passion? Had his body always been this warm?

Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears that it was as if you were standing in the middle of an orchestra, senses all focused on him and only him. All the times were you hoped to be held like this by him came crashing onto your mind all at once, the fiercest blush born from the slow realization of how those fantasies were finally reality blooming on your cheeks

The tight grip he kept on your hips told you he had no intention to let go of you soon, but who would be so foolish to not take advantage of the situation?

That night, after months and months of anonymous, mutual feelings, you and the pianist were able to manifest the most breathtaking of emotions through the words that you'd have kept hearing for a lifetime, the touches and caresses that would have been the same for the years to come, moved by never changing feelings to express an everlasting love; but you were sure, you were oh so sure, that none of them would have ever been enough

Napoleon

Unlike any other day, Napoleon wasn't tired at all, rather, he felt quite restless instead. That morning you had accompanied him and Isaac in their usual "street lessons" to the children of the city, and ever since then, a whole storm of butterflies had been freely running around his stomach. Each time your laughter ringed in his ears, each time your eyes twinkled with amusement, each time a smile as bright as the sun graced your lips, his heart couldn't help but leap with one of the greatest joys known to man: love. He wasn't an innocent boy who couldn't tell an emotion from the other, and he knew that this was a love like no other

Twisting and retwisting his thoughts in the attempt of getting to know about all the facets and implications this new feeling brought him, Napoleon let his feet carry him around the garden, similar to a lovestruck hero from a Shakespearean play tormenting himself over his beloved

He was so immersed in the meanders of his mind, that he barely heard you exclaiming his name in surprise. Barely, that is. As his brain registered your presence, his eyes and heart danced in search of you until they landed on the lowest arm of the pine tree near his window.

He looked at you and you looked at him, the soft sound of crickets the only melody filling the background. You could clearly see the way le Monsieur de Wahaha's shoulders shook in an attempt to keep in the raging fits of laughter that would have been surely let out soon enough. The same way, despite tears of amusement fogging his vision, Napoleon was extremely aware of the embarrassment creeping up your features

"Nunuche" he managed to say in between his strangled fits, "what in- pftt- what are you doing there-"

"I just wanted to thank you for today so I had been searching for you- S-stop laughing at me, you moron! I'm trying to be serious here!!" How could he take someone who was perched on a tree in the middle of the night seriously? You truly were a silly one

With arms opened wide, he walked over the pine trunk and with a tender but still lightly shaking tone that was exclusive for your ears only, he said "Come! I'll definitely catch you, mon amour"

You just stared at him in silence with the widest eyes your head could muster without popping them out of their orbits. You were just a couple meters from the ground, sure, but was he truly this confident in catching you? And did he just call you "my love"?? There was a LOT to unpack for your brain, but the man had no intention of letting you idle by with your thoughts for long, challenging you with his vivid emerald eyes as if to say "what, you don't trust me?"

The fearless Napoleon had this habit of infusing in others a courage so strong, that even the most impossible action seemed achievable; and that, with a bit of adrenaline caused by how quick the silent night escalated when the Nightmare of Europe stepped into the scene, made you follow his command. And you jumped.

The rustling of leaves above your head, a strong pair of arms around your torso, a silent breathing interrupted by a low chuckle that could've melted all the glaciers in the world. His smell, his warmth, his voice, they were all so close and yet so distant, just like his heart. He wasn't yours and you had no right to claim him as so, but being with him was all you needed and wanted the most

"What are you thinking about?" He asked with a curious look, still holding you between his arms. As much as you wanted to answer him, no words were forming in your mind that was so full of him and so empty at the same time. All the boldness from the jump had dissipated in the air the same way one would puff out air from his lungs in the night sky

But when words fail us, actions find their way through our minds. Slipping a pair of arms behind his neck, you snuggled against his chest and whispered "Let's stay like this, just for a little longer, please"

He couldn't help but comply; your wish was his command and he, the Emperor of France, was your slave

[super-secret-sick-fics]

ouu yes ive been so obsessed with them (osasuna) recently and there’s barely any fics for them in this department lol i wanted to see something like suna coming to school sick with the stomach flu or something and osamu taking him home to take care of him (i feel like it’s ooc for suna to go to go school if he’s not feeling well so it’d probably be one of those where it gets progressively worse throughout the day) sorry if this is too long haha

Okay!! Thank you for this request. Sorry it took so long. Honestly, I had a lot of fun with this and it ended up being so long, that I’m gonna post it in 2 parts!!

You can totally read either as a stand alone though. Part 2 should be up soon :)

Suna and I have the same birthday, so I actually kinda put a lot of myself into him in this one since we share a star sign lmao. I hope it’s not too ooc for either of them. It’s my first time writing sunaosa!

Sick at School: a SunaOsa fic

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,024

Warnings: vomit & swearing & soft cuddles

Part 2 Here

_________________________________

Suna was confused.

There was a strange gnawing in his gut that wasn’t there when he woke up this morning. In fact, when he woke up this morning, he felt perfectly fine. Maybe he was a little more tired than usual, but he didn’t sleep all that well, so he brushed it off and got ready for school.

But now, he was sitting in class, his eyes burning as he tried to stay awake. It was only Monday and only the second class of the day, but he felt like he’d been at school for days already. On top of the grumbly feeling in his stomach, his brain was muddled, so paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying was taking every bit of energy he could scrounge up.

It didn’t make sense. He slept his eight hours (even if it wasn’t the best sleep), he ate a good breakfast, he was hydrated, there weren’t any tests or games coming up to make him anxious at all. So the unsteady, uncomfortable, unusual feelings he currently felt simply did not make a single bit of logical, rational sense.

And because they didn’t make sense—because there was no rational reason for him to feel that way—he ignored it.

Ignoring it proved to be more difficult than he anticipated as the fog in his brain solidified into a consistent pounding and the gnawing in his stomach started to feel more like his stomach acid was boiling. The sun shining on him through the window didn’t help any, and he started to feel rather warm. By his fourth class, occasional cramps rolled through his body, forcing him to tense every muscle in his body to keep from wincing.

When the teacher finally released them for lunch, Suna folded his arms on his desk and hid his face in the crook of his elbow, ready to take a nap. Within three seconds, he heard the chair in front of him scrape the ground, grating on his ears, and felt his desk shake as someone sat down. He adjusted his head and peeked over his arm to find Osamu staring down at him, his usual bored look gracing his features.

“Yer sick, Sunarin,” he deadpanned and took a bite of his sandwich. Suna blinked at him several times.

Sick? Was that why he felt so weird? But he wasn’t sick this morning. There was no way he would have come to school if he felt bad.

Still, it would explain why he slept poorly. It must be a fast acting bug.

“I guess so,” he mumbled and buried his face in his elbow again.

“Hmmm,” Osamu mumbled. They were quiet for a minute or two before Osamu spoke again.

“Wanna go to the infirmary?” he asked, his mouth full.

Suna looked up at him again and sighed before sitting up. The world spun around for a brief second and he closed his eyes until the feeling went away. When it righted itself once more, his stomach was hurting worse than before.

“How’d you know anyway?” he asked and rested his chin in his hand.

“You’ve been lookin’ bad all mornin’. Wasn’t hard to tell.” Osamu shrugged. His sandwich was gone and he started making his way through the onigiri he most likely made himself. The fact that Osamu could tell he wasn’t feeling well from across the room made Suna blush. Or maybe he had a fever?

“Plus,” Osamu continued, “Tsumu’s home right now with a pretty nasty stomach bug. Threw up all over his bed last night.” He scrunched up his nose cutely, probably remembering the disastrous scene from the night before. Atsumu was never good at being a sick person. Or an injured person. Or a person at all, really.

“Wouldn’t be all that surprising if ya caught it from him since ya slept over at our place last weekend.”

Suna nodded in agreement.

“What about you?” he asked. Osamu shrugged again.

“I’ll probably be spewin’ my guts out by Thursday. Usually how it goes. One of us catches something then the other is sick within the week. We’ve only been sick at the same time a handful o’ times.”

“Mmmm,” Suna nodded and put his head down once more. It was suddenly very difficult to hold his head up.

“Infirmary?” Osamu asked again. Suna shook his head.

“Can’t move,” he whined before he could stop himself. Osamu looked at him with wide eyes.

“W-well, I’ll help ya out, dumbass,” he stuttered and Suna returned the wide eyed look.

“Uh, sure. But finish your lunch first. I can wait. You should eat. Wake me up when you’re done,” he said and closed his eyes.

“Alright. Lemme know if we need to go sooner though…” Osamu said hesitantly and Suna tried to ignore the implication behind the phrase.

Just because Atsumu had a stomach bug didn’t mean that Suna did too. He wouldn’t throw up at school. The increasing nausea absolutely had to be related to the growing migraine that slammed away at his head. He definitely would not throw up at school.

Before he started overthinking himself into a downward spiral, Osamu placed a hand in his hair. Suna was tense at first, but then Osamu started gently scratching his scalp and he immediately relaxed. He was a little embarrassed, honestly. Not because this was unusual though.

Osamu knew it helped Suna with his frequent headaches, so Suna was sure he somehow knew about the incoming migraine. It was just that this was usually something Osamu did for him in much more private settings. He’d do it on the bus on the way back from away games, or in one of their rooms after school or during a sleepover. To be so affectionate in the middle of their classroom was unheard of and if Suna wasn’t feeling so poorly, he’d probably smack Osamu’s hand away.

“Ya got a slight fever there, Sunarin,” Osamu whispered gently.

“Mmmm.”

“Okay. I’ll let ya know when I’m done eatin’.”

“Mmmm.”

Within a few seconds, Suna felt himself drift off.

When he woke up again, it wasn’t because of Osamu.

A violent cramp rolled through his gut and he shot up in his seat, ignoring the startled looks of his classmates. The cramp passed quickly, but left behind a foreboding feeling of nausea so intense it left him paralyzed and glued to his seat.

A second later, he noticed that Osamu was nowhere to be found and his anxiety increased. The situation was becoming increasingly urgent and there was no way in hell he could move or speak without throwing up all over his desk.

His chest tightened and he swallowed back a gag. He needed help. He needed Osamu.

“Suna-kun?” a girl from his class touched his shoulder and he flinched. She withdrew her hand.

“O-osamu—“ he forced out and she nodded urgently and ran away and out the door. Less than a minute later, she came back, Osamu hot on her heels. She pointed to Suna and Osamu nodded before rushing over and stood in front of him.

“Sunarin?” he tried and Suna shook his head.

“Are ya gonna—“ Suna nodded before Osamu could finish his question. The eyes of all of his classmates burned Suna’s already flushed cheeks and as if to let everyone know what was going on, a gag forced itself through his body painfully and he leaned over his desk. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and whimpered.

“Can someone bring me a trash can, maybe?” Osamu snapped at their peers. The girl from before nodded and dashed to the corner of the room and dragged the trash can over to Suna’s desk.

Everyone froze again and stared with scared eyes at the situation unfolding. Suna shook with effort, trying to stop the inevitable. He really really didn’t want everyone to watch him throw up.

Thankfully, Osamu had his back.

“Leave?!” He shouted and everyone ran out of the room.

“I’ll bring the nurse, Osamu-kun,” the same girl said and Osamu nodded, but his eyes were focused only on Suna. They’d have to remember to thank that girl later.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro. I finished my lunch and you were sleepin’ so peaceful I thought I had time to go to the bathroom before I took ya to the infirmary,” Osamu apologized and cupped Suna’s face in his hands. His voice was much softer than a second ago. It was the voice reserved for those quiet nights that they spent chatting before they fell asleep. Or on the team bus early in the morning when everyone else was still too groggy to pay attention to them. And it comforted Suna in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

“I feel sick, S-samu,” Suna forced through gritted teeth. The swirling in his stomach grew more insistent by the second and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was leaning over the trash can.

“I know, Rin. I’m sorry. It’s okay. I’ve got ya,” Osamu smiled softly at him and brushed his hair back. He frowned when Suna unconsciously leaned into his cold hands.

“Fever got higher,” he mumbled. Suna gagged again.

“Alright, c‘mon,” he said and circled around the desk behind Suna. Osamu gently grabbed his trembling shoulders and positioned him over the trash can. People’s leftovers from lunch filled about half the bin and the smell of all the different foods made Suna dizzy.

“Rin, ya gotta relax,” Osamu sighed and forcefully rubbed between Suna’s shoulder blades.

“N-no,” Suna said stubbornly.

“Yer an idiot.”

“Y-yeah.”

“It’s gonna feel worse if ya don’t just let it happen,” Osamu tried. Suna shook his head.

“Alright well, be mad at me later, then,” Osamu muttered. Suna was about to turn and look at him questioningly, but Osamu wrapped a hand around Suna’s front and placed it on his stomach. Even the minimal contact forced a wretch that left Suna reeling.

“D-don’t,” he tried, but the request was punctuated by a painful hiccup.

“I’m sorry. Can’t do that,” Osamu responded before starting to rub up and down on Suna’s stomach quickly. The motion shook the contents nauseatingly and Suna couldn’t stop the watery burp that followed. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Osamu didn’t relent. He started patting Suna’s back with the other hand, forcing belch after belch. The conflicting motions wreaked havoc on Suna’s already chaotic stomach.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before Suna grabbed Osamau’s wrist tightly.

“S-stop—hurrk. P-please, Samu. No m-mor—hic,” Suna begged. All of his limbs felt like they were about a thousand pounds and he shivered, cold despite the sun beating down on his back.

“It’s okay, Rin. I got ya,” Osamu muttered. He pried Suna’s sweaty hand off his wrist and replaced it with his hand. Suna squeezed hard when a wet belch jolted his body. His other hand grabbed the rim of the trash can in a white-knuckled grip. Osamu used his free hand to rub gently between Suna’s shoulder blades again.

Suna squeezed his eyes shut when he wretched. His throat felt tight and he tried to swallow the accumulating saliva in his mouth, only for it to come back up with a noisy gag. He opted to just drop his mouth open and let the spit fall into the trash can disgustingly.

“S-Samu—“ he tried but was interrupted by a guttural, wet, burp that left his head spinning. Two seconds later, he wretched and a weak stream vomit dribbled out of his mouth. It burned his throat and coated his mouth. The disgusting taste left him more nauseous than he thought possible and a belch gurgled in the back of his throat. He heaved, but nothing else came up.

“Ah, Rin, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry,” Osamu shushed him. Suna didn’t even realize he was crying.

He continued heaving for what must have been an eternity before another painful gag jolted him forward and brought with it a torrent of pale vomit into the trash can. At least he didn’t have to see everyone’s discarded lunch anymore. Not that his new view was much prettier.

“There ya, go Sunarin,” Osamu soothed. Suna sputtered and coughed, trying to catch his breath. His body was relentless though, and before he felt like he had sufficient oxygen, he was lurching forward with more forceful vomit pouring out of his mouth.

Suna’s body didn’t let up. It was stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of gasping breaths abruptly interrupted by a fountain of vomit forcing its way out. Eventually, he was just left heaving over the trash can, his stomach trying but failing to expel whatever might be left. Anxiety crawled up his spine and the room spun. He wanted to breathe, he really did. He just couldn’t.

“Fuck, Rin, breathe. Please,” Osamu demanded and his voice shattered through Suna’s panic. He nodded and closed his eyes to try and collect himself. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled heavily through his mouth. A minute or two of that, and he was able to take in his surroundings again.

At some point, Osamu wrapped an arm around Suna’s chest because apparently, his own arms gave out at some point and hung limply at his sides. He spit the residual nastiness out of his mouth and squinted up at Osamu.

“Can we leave?” he asked plainly. Osamu stared at him owlishly and then chuckled.

“It’s the middle of the day Rin, I can’t just—“

“Please?” he all but begged and grabbed Osamu’s arm. Osamu hesitated for the briefest of seconds before relenting with a heavy breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course. Want me to call yer mom?” Osamu responded. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off Suna’s face. Suna shook his head.

“Is it too much to ask if I can stay with you? I don’t want to risk giving this to my little sister and grandma.” His voice was quieter than he wanted, but he was wiped out. He cleared his throat and spit in the trash can. He was fading fast. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep whatever bug this was off.

“Yeah okay. I’ll ask my Ma. Shouldn’t be too much of an issue since Tsumu’s sick too.” Osamu pulled out his phone and massaged Suna’s scalp. It felt so good that he leaned over and buried his face in Osamu’s stomach. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall asleep here. Hopefully Osamu’s mom would be okay with it and come quickly.

“Ma, can you come pick me and— no I’m not sick— well, if you’d just let me talk ya crazy—Ma I do have a good reason to be call— would ya stop talkin—yer damn right I’m being disrespectfu—Ma!” As Osamu argued with his mother over the phone (it was nothing new) Suna took inventory of his body.

There was no denying he was sick. That much was obvious. His head was pounding and his stomach still rolled and swirled uncomfortably. Shivers danced up and down his body, exacerbated by the sweat that coated his skin. He was sure that he had a fever. All of his limbs weighed him down and he didn’t think he had any sort of energy to move them. It was taking all he had to stay awake right now.

“Osamu-san!” The girl from before returned, the school nurse right behind her.

“Suna Rintaro, you poor boy. Caught that bug going around, I see,” he heard the nurse and pulled his face away from Osamu’s body. Blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision, he sniffed and stared at the old lady in front of him.

She stuck a thermometer in his mouth without saying a word and pulled a water bottle out from her coat pocket. While they were waiting for his temperature, Suna glanced at Osamu, who was now leaning against the desk behind Suna’s. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, his other still holding the phone to his ear as he continued listening to his mother rant.

Without thinking, Suna reached over and grabbed a hold of Samu’s shirt with one hand. Osamu looked down in surprise before his face softened and he put a hand on Suna’s shoulder.

The thermometer beeped and Suna winced.

“38.7,” the nurse read and pursed her lips. She pulled out some medicine from her lab coat and gave some to Suna. He grimaced. Even in his hazy state, he knew putting something in his stomach wouldn’t go over well.

“Suna-kun, you need to get that fever of your’s down. I know it’s not ideal, but please try.” Suna turned his head away. She sighed.

“Okay, but make sure you take something at home. Does someone need to call your mother?” Before Suna could answer, Osamu interrupted.

“I’ll take him ma’am,” he said, apparently off the phone with his mother.

“Osamu-kun, don’t you be thinking you can just skip out on school,” she warned.

“I would never,” Osamu charmed, “I think it’s the smartest move, ya see. Atsumu is at home with the same illness right now and so there’s no way I ain’t carrying the germs for it. Wouldn’t it be safest if I go home too? Before I infect anyone else. And I can take Sunarin with me.”

The nurse gave him a skeptical look, but then glanced over at Suna. She noticed his grip on Osamu’s shirt and the former’s hand firmly on Suna’s back. It must’ve made Suna look pretty pathetic because she relented almost immediately.

“Oh fine, fine. Does someone need to call your mom?”

“No, ma’am. Just got off the phone with her. She’ll be here soon. Said she’s got no problem taking Sunarin in ‘til he’s all better.” He squeezed Suna’s shoulder and Suna relaxed knowing he wasn’t at risk of infecting his little sister or aging grandmother. He sighed and smiled gratefully at Osamu.

It was comforting to know that Osamu was going to be looking after him. Because, if the swirling in his stomach told him anything, he was in for a really long night.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

breathe in breathe out

Prompt: delayed drowning

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt

Fandom: Grimm

hey folks what’s up!!! brief fun announcement from me i finally got my drivers license today (only about two years late but shh) and i’m very happy ab that!!! anyway i hope that you enjoy this fic, it’s set right after the events of la llorona  and i did a Lot of research about delayed drowning for it!! (did you know that they no longer refer to it as things like ‘dry drowning’ or ‘secondary drowning’? i did not you learn new things every day up in here) anyway yeah i hope you like this fic!!!

They’re both fairly exhausted after the day they’ve had. Teaming up with a not-really-FBI agent to find a murderer, learning that ghosts might actually be real, saving the lives of three kids, and losing their would-be killer tended to do that to people. But it’s Halloween (sort of), and the both of them could do with a little winding down and trying to make sense of the events of the day. 

So they’re in Hank’s living room, talking about ghosts while a scary movie plays on the TV, muted. There’s a small bowl of Halloween candy on the table in front of them, and Hank is eating a kitkat. Nick is decidedly not hungry - his throat feels sore, which he supposes is a byproduct of his time in the river. 

He coughs, suddenly, startling Hank, who drops his candy. “You good?” he asks, and Nick nods. 

“Probably just a leftover from-” he starts, but cuts himself off with another harsh cough, and then another.

“You’re sure?” Hank asks. “Those don’t sound good. Do you feel sick?”

Nick waves him off. “I’m fine,” he says, and reaches for his glass of water. He takes a sip, hoping to calm the coughing, but instead nearly chokes on it, and feels, briefly, like he’s back in the river, fighting la llorona, watching her slip away…

And then the feeling fades, and he feels Hank thump him on the back. “I’m good, I’m good,” he assures him, discarding his glass in favor of putting his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. 

“I don’t know, man,” Hank says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Hank,” Nick insists. “Probably just swallowed some water earlier.”

Hank doesn’t look convinced, but he stops talking about it, and Nick settles back into the couch, leaning his head against the cushion. He blinks and feels his eyes fight to remain closed. He checks the time - nearly one a.m.

“I think I should head home,” he says to Hank, who turns away from the TV and looks at him.

“You alright to drive?” he asks. “You don’t look too great.”

“I’m fine,” Nick says, for the hundredth time. “Really, I promise.”

He yawns, and once again feels his eyes slip closed for longer than they should. On the other hand, maybe he’d just fall asleep right here...Hank wouldn’t mind, right?

He decides that the answer to that question is no, and brings his legs up onto the couch, curling up as best as he can in the small space. 

“Hey, what’re you-” Hank starts, but he stops upon seeing that Nick has already fallen asleep. He sighs, muttering about how Nick better not get any dirt from his shoes on his couch. 

He doesn’t mind, though, really. Especially when he takes a good long look at Nick’s sleeping face - though being asleep has lessened the effect slightly, it’s clear Nick is absolutely exhausted. His face is paler than it normally is, and there are marks under his eyes. He’s long since changed into dry clothes, but his hair is still damp, curling slightly against his forehead as it dries. Hank gives him a smile and locates a blanket to drape over him, then turns off the TV and the lights and heads to his own bed.

--

Nick wakes up an hour or so later with a burning pain in his chest. He tries to take a deep breath to get the pain to stop, but feels it catch in his throat. He breathes in again, and feels the same result. 

A panic starts welling up under his skin as he continues to struggle to breathe - his lungs are burning and there’s no air in his body and he’s dizzy because he cannot breathe. He tries to shout for help but chokes on the words, and then coughs, and then he’s coughing again, like before, only unlike before because he can’t stop. He keeps coughing without a breath in between, and every cough feels like it’s tearing its way out of his lungs and his throat, and he can taste the river on the back of his tongue, and he doesn’t know what this is or why it is happening and he still can’t breathe. 

He tries to stand up, knowing that he has to get somewhere, find someone, but the second his body leaves the couch he’s pitching forward and he’s still coughing and he thinks he is never going to stop, and then - 

Then there is a pair of arms wrapping around him, easing him to the floor, and he still can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’tbreathe, and he reaches out a desperate hand which wildly misses its mark. 

He hears, over the sound of his own coughing, Hank’s voice, and he is saying something but not to Nick. He can’t understand what it is Hank is saying, and he can’t see him, either - the force of each cough is making his eyes water so badly the world is nothing but a fuzzy blur, so he knows Hank is there, but he doesn’t know where and he can’t think or process what is happening, but he is afraid and he can’t stop coughing and his chest is on fire. He wants Hank, and tries his best to call out for him. 

And then Hank is there, and his hands are on Nick’s shoulders and he’s saying something to Nick this time, but Nick still can’t hear, still can’t see Hank beyond a vague smattering of colors and light. Cough after cough tears its way out of him and he reaches out a hand yet again. 

This time, it hits its mark, and Hank’s hand wraps around his own, steady and warm, and he says something against the side of Nick’s head which Nick still can’t hear, and then Nick is aware that he is being moved, and then something thumps him in the chest and he coughs somehow even more harshly than before, and then his body instinctively turns to the side and he coughs up a small amount of water which burns horribly, and then he coughs a few more times, and then, all of a sudden, it stops. 

He takes a shallow breath, and then another. He feels himself being moved again, and something in his brain recognizes the motion - recovery position, he thinks, and then there is a hand between his shoulder blades and Hank’s voice, again, and Nick can actually hear him this time. 

“It’s okay, Nick, you’re okay,” he is saying, but he sounds scared, and Nick is scared, still unsure of what exactly had happened to him and why it had stopped and if it was going to start again. He feels himself start to cry, his eyes which had just been starting to clear up fogging over again, and he takes a shuddering breath that burns but doesn’t make him cough. He wants to ask what happened, but his throat feels like he’s swallowed a bucket of nails and crying is already aggravating it enough. 

He feels the hand leave his back then, and makes a completely involuntary noise at the loss of contact, feeling the pain in his throat spike. 

But just as quickly as it had left, the reassuring contact is back, in front of him this time. He feels Hank lie down next to him, feels a hand on his face, hears Hank say those words again: “You’re okay, Nick, it’s alright.” 

But it’s not alright, he is still scared and in pain and confused and so, so tired. His hand reaches out for the third time, and Hank knows exactly what it means, without Nick needing to say the words. He moves an arm to wrap around Nick’s body as best as he can in their current positions, and he pulls Nick gently towards himself. 

Nick leans his face into Hank’s shoulder, relaxes ever so slightly, and breathes.

hi idk if this was any good or not but i had a good time writing it!!! i am gonna be honest the stuff about whacking him in the chest is pure bs from me but i Wanted to include it so i did lmao. the rest of the stuff is pretty true to how delayed drowning happens tho!! its pretty wild like you can be fine for several hours and then boom. also i didn’t say this in the fic but dw hank was calling 911 and nick will be fine!!

[fairytsuk1]

trainwreck | pt.2

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

genre: fluff <3

warning: none! swearing lmao

words: 1,965

summary: after meeting in a rundown station, you both settle on a checkered blanket underneath the cherry blossoms

part one!

     It felt straight out of a movie, the whole scene in front of you felt just like a romantic comedy. The ones where the boy is so obviously out of place, but it was still endearing somehow. Bakugou stood, a checkered blanket and basket in his hands. He was that boy in the movie, handsome but with his own unique charm that no other film could replicate. He was not just that boy. He was your boy. The Adam's apple in your throat bobbed, a wave of nervousness washed over you. You'd brought your own woven basket full of delicious treats you'd specially baked for this date, but now you fretted that it wasn't enough. 

     "Quit starin' and c'mere!" He shouted with his infamous scowl and low baritone voice before beginning to spread out the blanket, "I'll force-feed you if I have to! They took a lot of work!!"

     He was nervous too, it was only the second date. What was supposed to happen on the second date? Hell if he knew, and he certainly wasn't going to ask his mom or dad. That was just asking for jokes about his love-life and whatnot, it was his business! Whatever. He'll figure it out because you're just a girl...just an adorable, charming, and cute girl. 

"I didn't know you had it in you! You don't seem like the type to…" you grew quieter as you came face to face with a bouquet of Gardenias. White Gardenias, they were beautiful, "...to show up with flowers…"

     You take them and swear you can feel the electricity when your fingers graze his own.

     "What the hell does that mean?! Just...take the flowers. And don't look so shocked about it either! Sit down with me, I didn't bring all of this for nothing."

     You sniffed them and savored the sweet, delicate scent before grinning widely. You donned a cute outfit, cozy but fashionable. Your mother-deemed by herself as the best consultant for dates-made sure to accessorize you for a final touch of pizazz. His eyes trailed over the various gems and shimmers that graced your body.

     "You look cute."

"You look handsome! So...what'd you bring me?"

     His shoulders dropped as he grew more relaxed and into the mood. You weren't a stranger; you were just someone who seemed to be occupying his mind everywhere he went. Must be a curse of the crush.

     He began to rant about his experience making deli sandwiches and how "they better taste like heaven on bread!" but you could only focus on one thing. Him. His face was smooth with no blemishes and his hands seemed soft based on the light touch from before. You hadn't kissed him yet, but you knew well enough from the late-night video chats that his lips were cushy and smooth from the strawberry chapstick he wore. 

     "Are you listening?"

"Hah? Yeah."

     "Don't worry, I'd tell you all over again if I had to." He snorted and pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich. "This one's yours. I didn't know what you wanted, but everyone likes roast beef...right? Uh there's also turkey or chicken if you-"

"Did you seriously make me tons of different sandwiches because you didn't know what I liked? Why didn't you just text me?!"

     "It would've ruined the surprise! I don't know what you brought so why should you know?!"

"That just seems like a waste-"

     He shouted, but it wasn't malicious, "I'll eat all these goddamn sandwiches myself if I have to! Don't test me!"

     The fact that he was getting riled up over some subs sent you into a fit of giggles causing you to fall back onto the soft blanket. He grumbled curses as he nudged your knee to "come up and eat!". Your stomach eventually ceased it's laughing fit and you sat back up while trying to bite back a smile. Bakugou had already started to eat in which he reminded you of a giant wolf. But if he was a wolf, what were you? Maybe a bunny? Either way, you two were an unlikely pair. You began to eat.

     The first bite was an experience in itself, your tastebuds happily savoring the flavors of tomato, beef, and dijon mustard. The bread was even lightly toasted. A delightful moan escaped your lips as your tongue darted out to swipe over them once more. His red eyes roamed your face to search for any hint of dislike.

"Bakugou, this is so fucking good. I know you said you liked to cook, but I wasn't expecting corporate-level food!"

     A smug grin tugged at his lips as he looked down and crumpled the wrapper. A "T" labeled on it for turkey was quickly hidden by the folds. He was also an organized guy though you knew that already. It was just as you thought when you caught a peek of his phone one time to see everyone's contacts labeled with photos. Yours had a heart next to it which you had pretended not to notice.

     "Well, only for you. I'd hate to disappoint a pretty girl."

     Warmth bloomed in your chest as you cheesed over the downright dangerously romantic line. The sun shone on you both, a gust of wind let the flower petals of the delicate cherry blossoms flow to the ground, an easy path left behind them. You took another bite and watched as he dug around in his basket, revealing chips that he opened and pointed towards you.

     "We should've brought plates instead of wrappers and napkins. Don't you dare spill anything on my blanket or else my mom will have my ass!"

"Oh? Maybe then she'll finally know who her son keeps calling so late at night."

     "You're the one that stays up late! It's none of her business anyways," he squinted at you as if to dig his heels into proving he'd never tell a soul before happily snacking on some chips.

"Well, whatever makes you comfy! It doesn't bother me."

     As you finished up your absolutely delightful sandwich, Bakugou tugged on his bottom lip. You were completely comfortable in his presence, no tense energy or apprehensiveness radiated off of you.

"If you start overthinking Bakugou, you'll get painful gas."

     "Who says something like that?! That's not even true! Your quirk's wrong, I'm just thinking."

"Uh-huh, I can feel your aura. You think too hard! You work hard all the time, so just relax, I'm not gonna go anywhere. Alright, time for my super awesome kickass and totally delicious desserts! So..."

     The first Tupperware box contained two crispy brown flaky pieces of pie. The crust was cooked perfectly, and Bakugou's mouth watered as the cherries glistened with their sugary sheen.

"Here it is! This is cherry pie, I thought it'd be nice 'cause I know you aren't the biggest fan of super sweet stuff," you smiled and lifted the container up to his face, "plus it matches your eyes!"

     "It looks amazing. I can't wait to-hold on-you baked more than that?"

     Nervous laughter made Bakugou scrunch his face up, ready to reprimand you for doing so much for him.

"Like you said, I didn't know what you'd like...It seems like we were both insecure about what to bring!"

     He didn't know why it felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

     "Seems...seems like it," he grabbed a fork and got a nice bite of the dessert, the cherry sauce dripping from the prongs, "open your mouth. I'll feed it to you."

     You stared at his hand and could almost see the shaking. Your face felt hot, and as if your necklace was a choker. It was only your second date. No need to panic, you opened your mouth and let your mouth take the delicious into it before pulling away from the fork. He was right about one fact, the fact is that it was a fucking amazing pie. Though it was so obvious that your pulse raced as his eyes hyper-focused on your lips. This time you hoped he didn’t notice.

     You took your own fork and snagged a bite for him. You still had some cherry sauce on your lip, but you hadn't yet noticed. He did though. You offered the bit of pie towards him and it felt like your stomach was pooling with something. Was it intuition?

     He didn't know why he lurched forward and captured you into a bruising but full of emotions type of kiss. The type of kiss that makes you drop your fork and undoubtedly leave a red splotch in the cherry's descent. The type of kiss you immediately respond to and rest your hands on the junction between his shoulder and neck. The type of kiss with a firmness that makes you push up into the kiss when it seemed like he was trying to crush you with not only his need but his love. He supposed that asking first would've been the gentleman route, but since when was he ever gentlemanly?

     After a few short seconds, your lungs pulsed with the need for air as you fisted his shirt and pulled away. Your brain was racing a million miles a second, and it seemed like there was a slight fog clouding your mind. There were no fireworks or seeing stars, it just felt right. Your lips fit together right. Everything just seemed absolutely perfect.

"...You didn't even get to try the cherry pie."

     "I'm sure it's good, but I was far more interested in something else."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're just a horny teenage boy who should try my pie."

     "Not to be a horny teenage boy or anything, but doesn't that sound a bit dirty?" A boyish smile full of happiness takes you by surprise; you make sure to take a mental snapshot of it in case it happened to disappear right before your eyes, "it'd be funnier if you had brought a creampie! Hah!"

     You groaned and promptly let go of his shirt to poke him in his ribs. Was this the real Bakugou Katsuki? Crude and full of passion? Or was he more like the romantic you saw earlier, with a touch of shyness? 

     "Now you're the one overthinking. Look, you'll miss my pie-eating face," Bakugou held the fork up with an impossibly large bite that made you doubtful as to whether he could actually eat it, "see? Of course, I'll try whatever you make."

     It makes sense now. Bakugou wasn't as one-sided as everyone made him out to be, he was so very complicated with so many varying aspects of him that it almost made it hard to tell. Most people just chose one side and decided to be done with it. But no, you now know that with the countless video chats, games played together, and the two dates spent in each other's company that he was much more than some angry pent-up boy with an ego. 

     He was just like everyone else, and the fact that he looked at you with those vermillion eyes made that clear. 

     Your heart soared, was it because of seeing him exclaim that your pie was so good? Or was it that the red string had finally come to a close and sealed you two off together. You couldn't possibly know. You told yourself you wouldn't use your quirk on him for a while, but you just had to know what he was feeling.

     An overwhelming rush of warmth and light washed over you, like an ocean wave crashing into you and knocking you down. But no sharp sand or water filling your lungs, just the softness of pure joy and excitement.

     "Mhm, this is so fucking good. And call me Katsuki, okay? It's better that way."

     You had to agree, it was indeed better that way.

[vertigoambrosia]

i meant to watch dead end yesterday but my brain unexpectedly quit when i came home from work and i just fell asleep

lol um those dead end signs are a lil too literal

or, i guess what i actually mean is that actual dead end signs are visually boring and stand out when you have actual distinct graphic design

the teal bars to fake a wider aspect ratio is fucking weird too

i get that it’s to like, match with the aesthetic they’re using in the graphics but it’s just extraneous and weird

anyway unsolicited graphic criticism over let’s wrestle

davey looking more smoothfaced than usual; got a haircut too

hahaha did tommy forget his notes? i know i can’t remember or keep up with all of david starr’s nicknames

i’m not really into avalanche’s vest :(

also sad we didnt get a plot segment with david and avalanche (right? i’m remembering this correctly, right?)

?????? that’s not a ringkampf jacket?????????

aw timo smile

but seriously it is very weird seeing tim without his scarf

hahaha jurn denied

yesss hamburg thank you for teasing jurn about his baldness

i feel like we never really got to see jurn humiliated for long enough

now even his tag partner is kinda shitting on him :)

jurn: look tim i’m doing a submission aren’t i cool???

tim: yeah i guess that’s sort of a submissionm like half of one

“men in skimpy outfits doing their thing” apparently a descriptor for both bodybyulding and wrestling

this came up because of cours,e rico was talking about tim’s body

LMAO JURN WHY DID YOU THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA

tfw you’re a srs ringkampfer forced to tag with a showman

rico pretty much thinks tim is superman

yeah tim, auf his fressen!

[i know that is not grammatically correct]

wait that was a really weird moment with the blind tag?

OHHH cause he wanted the pin to get to pick that actually makes sense

oh of course we all know who david is picking to face in carat

avalanche being a pretty good sport tho

also david definitely has like, waxed a little, right? shaped the chest hair?

does he like to try and shed his fur in the new year?

we..saw this plot?

i mean, it’s a good segment, but i’m not really sure why we’re seeing the entire thing?

with this being a non title 3 way (which, why?), it’s not an immediately relevant promo

would have made a lot more sense to have a faye jackson interview or package or something

you know, actually introduce her as a character?

cause the way it is now, it’s just like she’s a random interloper getting in the way of the big plot feud

i get that they’re keeping kelly/toni for carat, which makes sense, but like....you can also develop other characters and storylines that aren’t directly related to the title

also rico started in about LETHAL CURVES and i rolled my eyes so hard i had to lay down

which is kinda unfair because i mean, her tagline is “cute in the face and thick in the waist”...but idk i’m just.....tired

anyway i hear a match occurred perhaps we should talk about that?

ok nvm i literally just turned the show back on and rico’s going horny ham

pay attention rico she just slammed toni

WE GET IT SHE THICC AND YOU LIKE THICC GIRLS CALM THE FUCK DOWN

hahaha i’m glad hamburg appreciated the not so dive spot

i lik eheel toni

this promo for the london show is pretty good

also i feel i should note this event’s music is actually good

oh here’s these little shits

they somehow get more obnoxious every time

hahaha jay mad

also whoever has control of the fog machine over did it

oh, the hardships of being so fresh!

lmaooooo you are shit just like the hsv bless

hahahaha i love our boys but that zip down the hoodie to reveal the belts thing was corny af

bless

hahaha rainer not letting jayfk get their hands on the belts at all

part of me hopes this is a squash

lmaoooooooooooo andy stanning for jay fk is amazing

he’s claiming that female fans are weeping and fainting whenever jay and francis do anything

ok someone needs to like, lock away the belts during jay fk matches

and andy matches, for that matter

man the markthalle seems like a hoot

lolll the turnbuckle on rise’s side is falling off

it gone

is someone gonna like...fix it?

<3 ivan

so limbs

everywhere!

oh good someone fixed the turnbuckle

RIP GALAXY GARBAGE BOIS

oh i guess this is walter/veit coming up

heard this match was fucking amazing

father vs son

wow that guy’s sweater is Something

yoooooooo they’re going hella extra with the staging of walter’s entrance that looked fucking great

walter stop being so mean to your child

i want mueller to give me a hug

he’s so meat

broad with meat

meat brick boi

wearing suspenders :3

ok i like this match

rico: “we are watching tough love”

walter is killing my meat boy :(

pin him veit!

damn walter could at least not chop the same titty

even out the damage

...or just john woo dropkick him to death

are they both going to die

veit officially elevated to “stud” status in rico’s eyes

taaaaaaaapp

oh that was totally a tap!

you know walter’s gone full jerk when he starts flexing

COVER HIM

are they actually going to fight forever

wow walter just sat right on his fucking face

rip sweet hamburger boy :(

walter u jerk

BE NICE TO YOUR SON

hahaha walter does not want to deal with david starr

david you did not have to interrupt the nice moment tho

*david voice* i’ve been chasing walter for like three years get in line mueller

mack straightened his hair and i don’t know how i feel about that

i can’t understand what they’re yelling at mack :(

did lucky lick that dude’s hand?

SO MANY FINGERS HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIMSELF

don’t get distracted by the crowd, lucky!

i am very glad we have rico and andy as commentators to notice mack not having braids

rico i think mack hasn’t broken a sweat cause he’s not moving vert fast rn

i feel like that started on a weird note cause this is basically supposed to be a grudge mack but lucky started off with the usual huggy shtick

wtf was that it looked like he just dropped lucky on his head

that was a good mack magic tho

lol i missed that finish whoops

that match was a little underwhelming - i mean, i guess it was fine

i think cause the setup was a little weak

but whatever rise is winning and being all wholesome so i can’t really complain

bobby is winning this (and eventually the title), right? i’m assuming marius is dropping the shotgun title to lucky at carat, and also if marius is in the title match when would the shotgun title match be? there’s no way it wouldn’t be defended at carat

it’s so weird seeing vinny be like, calm?

aw they should have made marius and andy come out together to the A4 theme

...just realized i actually have never heard A4′s theme

i know andy’s was that silly french song

i will try not to blab about my feelings about bobby’s character for the thousandth time since you’ve heard it all before

god i love ilja

that is not new but somehow it feels like i forgot how much i love ilja

ah ilja is such a good tag partner

he was gonna go back after andy but saw bobby needed some help

hahaha ilja smiling when andy acts like he’s gonna actually do a double chokeslam

(ok not gonna lie doing some travel planning during this match so i’m not 100% involved)

i kinda care more about the result of this match than actually watching them wrestle, tbh, and i’m pretty sure i know the result

it;s kind of a weird match anyway, honestly and i could go a lot longer iwthout seeing andy and ilja fight again

dead end is a bit of a weird event anyway cause it’s like, a lot of the stuff that’s really being built up is also being saved for carat

starr/avalanche vs jurn/timo at least had the tension that david and avalanche are still competing aginst each other evne though they’re on the same side, tim doesn’t really respect jurn, and it in general was a sort of half rematch of their two matches from back to the roots

this one feels significantly more contrived

like it should hace been a singles match between bobby and marius but then ilja and andy have nothing to do cause they promised no more singles matches between them

that was a weird ending

OMG ANDY

LMAOOOOOO

that was actually kinda brilliant

ok that 619/double suplex spot was super stupid but also kinda great

i think bobby is the only wrestler to actually have their ‘king of strong style’ ripoff name stick

*ilja voice* YOU’RE GONNA MURDER HIM, GUNNS! literally please kill him

HAHAHA NICE TRY ANDY

belt shot DENIED

fragile vinny is also quite a weird thing

[romyshq-blog]

hello lovely people! i’m cathy and i’m super excited to be here with my trash bby, slater. she's messy, so i hope she fits in here!  if u need an enemy, messy ex situation or contemptuous ex-friendship connection, look no further than this bish right here. under the cut you can read about her (she’s a hot mess!!!) and visit her pinterest board here if u’d like (her name is usually rachel but i decided to go wildt and change it *sweats nervously because i actually hate change*). 

( MARGARET QUALLEY / CISFEMALE / SHE/HER ). [ ROMY SLATER ] is a [ TWENTY-ONE ] year old [ UNDERGRAD ] student studying [ JOURNALISM ]. they are known for being [ RESILIENT & PERCEPTIVE ], but also being [ CAPRICIOUS & CONTEMPTIBLE ]. if there was a song that described their life, it would be [ ACRYLIC BY FOG LAKE ].

first thing’s first, you should call her slater. in fact, unless you’re in one of her classes where they take attendance, you probably don’t know her real name is romy. she hates her name and has been going by her last name for as long as she can remember. 

she’s from new york. her dad is very demanding and tempered and her mom is carping, cold and judgmental. so she didn’t grow up in a great situation. 

her dad owns a bunch of properties in the city and in new jersey and they’ve made him very wealthy. they’re mostly crap apartments, motels & strip clubs. he has a lot of criminal ties and is pretty much just a creep.

he has a lot of cops, district attorneys, city council members, deputy mayors etc. on his payroll from bribery and/or blackmail stemming from his strip clubs and the dancers and prostitutes who work there. not to mention his mob affiliation. sooo basically he’s teflon. 

slater’s mom is a social climber who won’t leave her husband despite him being….Not Nice™ since she wants to live lavishly. she’s long island trash...very real housewives

her mom is very selfish and refuses to take any responsibility for the way her life choices have fucked up her daughter while also constantly criticizing slater and her behaviors as if slater just…made herself into the person she is today?? and wasn’t molded by her parents and environment, ya know??

anyway, slater’s mom used to pharmacy shop and put slater on drugs to curb her justified behaviors. like having anxiety due to growing up in a dysfunctional and abusive situation. but she also did it to have slater basically labeled as “mentally ill” and on meds to keep her quiet about their family secrets. so slater has always felt like she’s messed up, even as a kid :///

slater still sees her parents occasionally on breaks and holidays and you can expect her to act out in interesting ways after being forced to go home. 

personality; 

sO! if slater had a label or trope or whatever, she’d totally be the anti-heroine. ya know, the girl who does fucked up shit and can be amoral and you want to hate her but she’s also sympathetic in a way and good (deep down). 

warning: she’s a messy girl to be involved with. she’s got this emptiness inside of her. a hollowness. (hint; it’s depression). she uses anything she can to try and fill it up. drinking, drugs, sex. but she’s incredibly selfish & impulsive in her pursuits and ends up hurting people. a lot. and she always hates herself after but then just does it again.

she’s not a sociopath or narcissist in a clinical sense. she’s actually an insecure, self-conscious ball of anxiety but pushes all that down and plays the Cool Girl role. she does things she knows are wrong and can be a manipulative bitch. then it all eventually bubbles over like a pot on a stove, and paired with the guilt she feels, it causes a few public and many private meltdowns. but she's usually always the source of her own interpersonal issues tbh.

like, you can confront her with receipts of shit she’s done and she’ll just nod and stare at the ground and walk away. but then go into the nearest public bathroom and sob and feel so bad. but then??? still?? never??? apologize???? she’s a trip. 

her aesthetic is uncombed hair, scuffed docs, flannels, torn jeans, tshirts from goodwill with moth holes. doesn’t shower or sleep often and chews her fingernails into stubs. like, she almost makes it a point to just look...Bad.

she gets really good grades because she can be very manic and intense. people in her high school used to tell her she had “crazy eyes” when she got like this because she gets very focused, perfectionistic, talks a mile a minute and you can practically see the gears turning in her brain. she works well under extreme stress, which is why most of her papers are typed up the night before their due date on five cups of coffee and a half pack of cigarettes. 

perceptive of others and can be manipulative and a liar to either a. get what she wants or b. hide her transgressions. she was raised by narcissists so....this is what ya get.

she’s complicated. because on one hand, she wants to be a good person but on the other hand, she fucks people over and betrays people a lot. 

i actually have a headcanon of how she lost her core group of high school friends that’s a good insight into her M.O. if you'd like to hear it:

so senior year slater got drunk and slept with her best friend alyssa’s boyfriend. she didn’t do it to be malicious. but she was too selfish, drunk & thinking about herself to care about how fucked up it was. she felt so bad about it but then caved and did it again and they had an affair. slater eventually broke it off, bottled up her guilt, continued the friendship with alyssa.

soon after, alyssa got pregnant by the same boyfriend. slater knew that alyssa’s bf was trash and supported her friend through an abortion.

but THEN, the boyfriend came clean and admitted the affair long after the fact. so alyssa thought slater supported her abortion for selfish gains because SHE wanted her boyfriend and (rightfully) felt betrayed. when in actuality, slater had long since stopped fucking him and only wanted what was best for alyssa when she supported her through the abortion. SO she did a bad thing in the past but still had good intentions. however, the past came back to bite her and she lost everything. don't get me wrong, she's not the victim in this situation. she fucked up. but not in the way her friends thought. so when she held her best friend's hand in the procedure, that came from a real place of love and she thought she was doing the right thing. however, she did do unforgivable things to the friend she loved. like i said, she's complicated because you can't outright say she's a soulless monster but you also can't justify or support her actions. 

YEAH! that’s my messy slater. she can never make it out of a situation as the good guy. she makes mistakes that are unjustifiable but she has a good heart and isn’t a horrible person inside. she doesn’t know why she is the way she is but she hates it tbh. she hates the things she does and the way she feels. but she just!!! keeps!!! fucking people over!!!! like, there’s no sugarcoating it: she’s done some terrible things for awful reasons and never apologized for any of it. but she regrets. she just can’t seem to break the cycle. (she's v much inspired by rachel goldberg from unreal as well as gretchen cutler from you're the worst, mickey dobbs from love, camille preaker from sharp objects and mavis gary from the film young adult!!)

plots;

i’m a HOE for drama, as you can probably tell my my angsty, messy character.

so maybe ex-boyfriends on bad terms or ex-friends. someone slater fucked over n won’t take responsibility for what she did

OR someone who fucked slater over for a change. taste of her own medicine tbh

maybe someone naive and innocent she can corrupt since misery loves company

childhood friends or enemies, family friends, a cousin maybe? characters with criminal connects who maybe know her dad??

fellow journalism majors that hate her for giving journalism a bad name cuz they’re actually dedicated to journalism and integrity n slater sleeps with sources and barely ever shows up or turns things in on time lmao

a professor she’s fucking lol idk 

someone who can see her at her worst. 

someone who’s innocent and good and slater actually tries to protect them, like a sisterly bond

trouble-maker, burnout friends. or toxic friendships

friends with benefits 

[artswaps]

I'm sorry you had a rough day... what types of things do you think Keith feels the most anxiety over? Is he usually unable to recover from it quickly?

It’s all good, nonnie, just had a bit of an embarrassing misunderstanding with a coworker, haha… my awful communication skills strike again ;__;

I kinda rambled a lot more than I meant to so I’ll pop this under a cut?

Boop:

Hmm Keith and anxiety…. I’m currently wading through brain fog so apologies if this is less than coherent lmao. Keith doesn’t exactly experience anxiety in the same way someone like Hunk does, does he? He doesn’t get caught up in his head and start imagining every way a situation can go wrong, not in the sense that he lets it get in the way of getting the job done.

However he personally feels about a situation, if there’s something that needs doing, then he’ll power through.

We have someone like Hunk, a character who canonically is shown to have anxiety that sometimes he needs help calming down from in order to get back on task… and then we have Keith, who deliberately puts his own feelings on the backburner, considering them unimportant in comparison to the mission.

First of all I imagine there’s something to be said about his instincts here? Like, if Keith’s in a situation where he knows something is wrong, he feels unsettled or anxious but doesn’t know why, it’s just an instinctual nagging that there’s danger. I think that’s something he wouldn’t need to recover from to think clearly, but rather he’d use that foreboding feeling as an indicator to keep his guard up and stay alert. It’s help him focus on what’s amiss rather than scatter his thoughts, maybe.

tbh Keith is actually very confident in his own abilities and limitations, (at least… pre-season 3 keith lol) so (and gosh sorry i really am too low on energy to know how to word this properly) more tactile or physically demanding situations that might make other people anxious- eg. going into the gross Weblum stomach or launching himself out of an airlock or driving his hoverbike straight off a cliff (everyone screaming in fear while Keith just smirks and delivers that self-assured “yup :)” always makes me laugh a little, lol)- though uncomfortable and maybe sometimes confronting for him, aren’t something that would cause anxiety. 

Things that make Keith anxious are more interpersonal things, I reckon; he has trauma from his past that causes not exactly a fear of rejection, but an expectation that he will eventually be rejected/abandoned. I imagine there’s a certain feeling of anxiety he carries with him that’s just… him waiting for the ball to drop, sometimes. Telling him not to get too close, because it won’t last and that’s just how things are.

There’s the fear over losing Shiro, someone who he loves and trusts implicitly because Shiro has earned that love and trust from Keith, but even then Keith’s still anxious about Shiro disappearing again (maybe because Shiro unintentionally kept putting that fear in the poor guy’s head by pushing that whole “hey Keith if anything ever happens to me” spiel, oh shiro…. shiro, buddy…..)

I think he’s anxious to a certain degree about letting Shiro down, because Shiro is Keith’s favourite person who has apparently changed Keith’s life in such a MASSIVE way and has so much faith in Keith. And though Shiro doesn’t consider that as a debt that needs repaying, there’s a good chance Keith does. Maybe that puts a bit of pressure on him to succeed, and causes him anxiety when he feels he’s messed up in Shiro’s eyes. 

So, those are some things that Keith maybe feels anxious about. But the thing is, like I said, Keith doesn’t give his own personal feelings about things the priority, pretty much ever. If there’s a job to be done, then no matter what he’ll power through. 

Eg. When Allura was still giving him the cold shoulder while she was coming to terms with the fact that he was part Galra, Keith (imo, anyway) hadn’t even considered the possibility that all she needed was time- he’d already accepted the fact that she had rejected him. He was undeniably hurting because in his eyes, it meant he’d lost a friend- he was Galran and she was Altean and it wasn’t either of their faults, it’s just how it was. 

But he didn’t let it hold him back from getting the job done, he focused on the mission and directed all his attention to the task at hand.

What I’m trying to say (and I hope I’m making at least a lil bit of sense) is that Keith definitely feels anxiety about certain things, but he never allows himself to address it. He ignores his own feelings, sometimes to the point where he believes them to be selfish because they distract from the mission and the mission is priority. So he doesn’t necessarily “recover” from fits of anxiety because he forces it so far back into his mind and already accepts his fears as truths. He’ll just accept that that’s how things are, and it’s something he has to power through because there’s things to be done that are more important. 

Which actually brings up another possibility, that he feels anxiety over being selfish, making what he thinks are selfish choices, wanting to persue his own goals eg. making choices for himself like wanting to know about his Blade in 2.08 and investigating his heritage but worrying about how self-serving those choices are and how they detract from what he’s contributing to the war effort…

hmm. Lots to think about. Maybe when I’m feeling more coherent. If anyone has thoughts though come talk to me!!

Oh, also??? Snakes. Kid lived in a desert and he knows the drill with how to live around snakes so he’s prepared and informed for what to do if you’re bitten but like…… c’mon. Snakes are snakes and no one *wants* to be bitten….. ya gotta be wary around those guys…..

[taonsil]

I cant imagine anyone would, but anyway please no reblog ! this is just all personal junk

aa so..I just wanted to ramble a bit about my 4am breakdown tag post some more. though it was a really bad night, I think reaching that point will in the long run have been a good thing n I'm just trying to figure it all out so I can learn from it the best I can. It was just several years worth of stuff finally reaching a peak. I got into exo around debut time, but pretty casually. it wasn't until wolf era that I decided to be 100% fulltime dedicated, and it came around because I'd been struggling so much with my gender ID and being ace. I was having a lot of suicidal thoughts and basically tao turned up that one day with his leopard print shawl on and changed everything. everything seemed like it was going to be fine. he was so distant then, and he was just perfect and strong and wonderful and I got a leopard print phonecase and had my hair buzzed like his (and coincidentally I had a whole summer of amazing ace discussions with a friend due to tao ships, so that helped with that a lot). I was so so excited and motivated every single day, buying new clothes and new products because tao had made me confident in choosing a path

in 2013 my long-term plan was to use all of this happiness to transition, to get started in the career I wanted, to reach out and help other queer kids, to study hard, to get the therapy/treatment I needed for my anxiety/agoraphobia and then who knows !! maybe move out, travel to see my friends. I was doing a lot of art that involved customising and selling and hoped to go places with that. 2014 was the best year of my whole life

tao leaving, really it just coincided with work getting worse (n also with that meaning we couldn’t travel any more to see our friends or have breaks away at all). I'm always vague on the details of this but it involves being very close to someone who's mentally and emotionally abused me and another family member into therapy before, but..needs must and all. I can’t be out around them at all. it's always been hard and it just happened to start getting a lot worse at the same time. losing sutao was so hard for me, I'd never had a relationship like theirs in my life and it made me happy every single day. I really went out of my mind waiting for news on whether he was coming back (at the time we didn't even know if he'd continue to work at all :s). when he did..it was a loss and a gain, because seeing him in a new light was strange. he went from my hero to someone I wanted to protect and defend. he's genderfluid and nd and aro and instead of looking up to him as an inspiration he just felt close and I could see so many of my bad traits in him but they were good on him, and I got so stressed and anxious every single time he dug himself into deeper holes or I thought the traits I perceived in him were going to be disproved. the two years since he left I was pretty unwell, I lost a lot of time, I wanted to die again because everything was so bad and he was all I had and it was too overwhelming at times. I never wanted to talk about it because I didn't want to be That Crazy Fan, or for my ideas to be dismissed bc of it, or for it to reflect badly on him either. some of the arguments that started cropping up in fandom brought up long buried trauma and made me analyse it way more than I'd ever wanted to. I just gave up on myself. I don't remember a lot of it. breaking away from it at the start of this year was really, really hard, but once I had it was like I'd just woken up after two years and realised I'd done nothing towards the plans I'd made when I was 23

-not to mention that I had no idea I was autistic(+ whatever else. I cant even make one appointment to look into the other possibilities bc of work lmao) until last year. I've always been diagnosed with anxiety, told to grow up, told I'm special and sweet, promised that one day with the right help I'd be fine. college was really bad and I isolated myself after it ended, and then I had to start working with family anyway, so for years it just worked out ok that I only ever went places with family and that they'd speak for me. and again, the two years lost to wherever I was with tao I just didn't think about it, until I was told it's this. and that this is just how I am, and that I'll always mentally be 12 at worst 16 at best and unable to go a day by myself without An Adult helping me out, and I'll probably never be able to like something in moderation and I'll probably never even be able to order a drink for myself let alone try and start helping charities or being involved in communities how I'd wanted

all of this + the endless problems with work, being put down every day and given all these ridiculous thankless extra hours/days, coming out of that weird tao brain fog..I realised I wasted most of my 20s without achieving any of the things I'd set out to, and with obstacles that meant I probably never would, and it made me feel really pointless. at the start of the year I'd made a lot of creative plans, but the stress of everything just knocked it all out of me. I felt bitter and upset towards all of the subjects that motivated me to be creative, and through my writing and art I’ve always tried to help and cheer up other people, but I couldn’t even enjoy it myself. I've had writers block for so long, I hate it. last week was a weird mix of receiving a lot of lovely messages about being helpful and nice etc and feeling guilty over not being uplifted by it, extra days/hours with no thanks, being hit and called stupid..I just felt like everything was over. I'd lost everything that made me feel good about being myself, I had no outlets, I'd failed at all of the goals I'd set myself. I miss tao so much but worry I'll end up in a bad way again if I go back to him full time. I keep thinking over all the ridiculous things I said in college just because I’m me and realising why no one liked me and feeling bitter over again that no one diagnosed me sooner. and trying to continue on like this knowing it's not in my power to improve most of it made me feel how I did last night, like it was just the end. but;; I think getting all of that pain and upset out and realising it was because of a lot of things, not just a bad week/month really helped.

dndhj I dont rly feel refreshed yet I just feel like a slug from crying so much. but I did see a lot of sense in the articles I was reading about what to do after having a moment like that n rebuilding things and setting new goals seems good. worrying less about my follow count and if people will think badly of me and just posting silly happy meta feels like a good way to reconnect with the things I closed off from. there's nothing I can do about work and how that is, but liking myself more again will probably help me care less OK. ok. OTL