#b-bomb reactions

[blue-rose-soul]

For your hazbin hotel au: what are the hotels residents when they learn about alastor 's father?

Angel Dust: First thing he does is apologize to Lucifer for the joke. Next thing he does is burst out laughing because of course he is! Of fucking course! Out of everyone he's one of the least affected by it. He teases Alastor a bit, but ultimately doesn't act like too much has changed. He reassures Charlie that most families do have some messy, complicated drama and as far as fucked up family situations go, hers is relatively tame. He then offers her 'tips' on being an older sibling for the sole purpose of bothering Alastor more. He will be made to regret this.

Husk: "Daddy issues. It's always fucking daddy issues." Like Angel Dust, he doesn't care too much, although he has a quiet chuckle over the fact that Alastor's got some shit going on under the surface that... humanizes him. Just a bit. Unfortunately for Husk, his role as the 'wise old bartender' means he's often got Lucifer lamenting to him about how guilty he feels about the whole thing, about how it's way way way too late for him to be a father to Alastor, how he doesn't know how to connect to his adult son, how he doesn't know how he'll be able to tell Lilith, etc. Husk offers what advice he can, as the singular person in the group who knows Alastor best and can offer a sane perspective.

Niffty: She has several fanfics she needs to burn. Immediately.

Vaggie: She tries to be normal about it, but Vaggie has a harder time with that than she'd expect. Which is fair given the cheesy, pompous, talk show shit-lord may very well be her brother-in-law someday. She does make something of an effort to reassure Alastor in a more calm and collected way than Charlie, but he just brushes her off with some barbed words that send her storming off in a huff, so she doesn't try that again. For the most part though, her concern is Charlie's emotional state. The closest Vaggie's ever had to a family is Adam and the exterminators so she doesn't quite know what her girlfriend is going through, but just saying that is enough to get Charlie to laugh and say, "Yeah, I guess it could be worse."

[luvsavos]

for how mentally ill i am about monster hunter and shara ishvalda specifically i sure am always noticing new things about them

[taniushka12]

on one hand i wanna keep writing my fic so bad not only bc i wanna get to the next chapter (the final chapter, the best one, la creme de la creme) but bc next scene is HOT however i cant remember.... how i planned...the build up... the logic reason to get from point A to point B.... and its kicking my ass ngl........

[ichorkurt]

ficrecs masterlist ii.

welcome to my second ficrecs masterlist! find my main blog @ichorai. find my own fics here.

below the cut includes jujutsu kaisen, lord of the rings, saltburn, the halcyon, marvel, game of thrones, house of the dragon, prisoners, world on fire, dc, doctor who, scott pilgrim, succession, harry potter, the boys, interview with the vampire, and gangsta fics!

jujutsu kaisen.

jujutsu kaisen men in the world of work by @drak3n

ೃ⁀➷ naoya zenin.

only a fool for you by @mochimoshis

ೃ⁀➷ satoru gojo.

luxury & lingerie by @celestie0

ೃ⁀➷ suguru geto.

the guy i lost my virginity to is stalking me by @gorehsk

lord of the rings.

ೃ⁀➷ legolas.

watcher of wanderers by @entishramblings

saltburn.

ೃ⁀➷ michael gavey.

the golden ratio by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

midpoint by @asumofwords

mine all mine by @humanpurposes

the poetry of logical ideas by @sylasthegrim

stick it out to the end by @aemondsbabe

the halcyon.

ೃ⁀➷ billy taylor.

one more tomorrow by @tomhiddleston

marvel.

ೃ⁀➷ kurt wagner.

bamf babies by @bamfkeeper

for love, we sin the most by @larcenywrites

kurt's instincts are still flaring... you know just how to help by @/bamfkeeper

parents by @/bamfkeeper

untitled by @dinogoofymutated

untitled by @dreaming-tonite

untitled by @kayesfanfics

untitled by @sanguineterrain

ೃ⁀➷ logan howlett.

logan's reaction when you wear one of his shirts by @periprose

ೃ⁀➷ peter parker.

untitled by @forever-rogue

game of thrones / house of the dragon.

pregnancy headcanons by @princessbellecerise

ೃ⁀➷ gwayne hightower.

& now i'm covered in you by @swordgrace

ೃ⁀➷ jacaerys velaryon.

hunger games au by @maidragoste

lotus bloom by @hxtd

ೃ⁀➷ jaime lannister.

the best fit by @casterladyrock

war has changed by @villaingaze

prisoners.

ೃ⁀➷ david loki.

blood bond by @davidlcki

sfw alphabet by @charliehoennam

tall, dark, and handsome by @rebelliousstories

world on fire.

ೃ⁀➷ tom bennett.

best intentions by @/ewanmitchellcrumbs

rocking the boat by @ultraintrovertedgryffindor

dc.

attractive things they do ... without realizing by @ahqkas

ೃ⁀➷ adrian chase.

five times vigilante definitely does not have feelings (and one time he does) by @tropes-and-tales

helluva drug by @lysenfeu

hot venom by @jangofctts

never been kissed by @training4theapocalypse

thirsty by @/training4theapocalypse

ೃ⁀➷ bruce wayne.

clingy mornings by @kurogxrix

wife on repeat by @bat-mom-writer

ೃ⁀➷ dick grayson.

sunset anew by @/sanguineterrain

doctor who.

ೃ⁀➷ eleventh doctor.

cold feet by @undiscovered-horizon

dangerous habits by @social-mockingbird

a day in by @cloginthedrain

my john by @watchoutforthefanfics

safest place in the universe by @holly-the-trash-writer

set things right by @pastanest

ticking love bomb by @/watchoutforthefanfics

scott pilgrim.

ೃ⁀➷ kim pine.

right next door by @writersbarrierblock

ೃ⁀➷ wallace wells.

untitled by @twiixr4kidz

untitled by @/twiixr4kidz

succession.

their marriage proposal by @romeulusroy

ೃ⁀➷ lukas matsson.

normal people by @the-west-meadow

ೃ⁀➷ roman roy.

baby by @richeeduvie

being roman roy's personal assistant (and his obsession) would include... by @senselessviolets

gossamer by @/romeulusroy

i'm annoying by @bowieandqueen11

movie by @eeveebitches

right where you left me by @aurorag98

smile like you mean it by @cvrnelians

this hope is trecherous by @aprilthearcher

untitled by @/richeeduvie

untitled by @/richeeduvie

untitled by @/richeeduvie

untitled by @/richeeduvie

untitled by @/richeeduvie

wedding prep by @/richeeduvie

harry potter.

ೃ⁀➷ cormac mclaggen.

finders keepers by @/training4theapocalypse

ೃ⁀➷ fred weasley.

anything by @ibbythebee

beloved, besotted, betrothed by @emeritusemeritus

the boys.

ೃ⁀➷ black noir.

i want to f**k you like an animal by @dollerinna

interview with the vampire.

dating headcanons by @tomriddleslovergirl

untitled by @steph-speaks

ೃ⁀➷ lestat de lioncourt.

gold, and gold again by @theawfuledges

gangsta.

initiation by @imperatorkhaleesi

ೃ⁀➷ nicolas brown.

untitled by @dollwrites

[qqueenofhades]

from across the pond, I am loving how all of our news outlets are basically just going 'kamala kicked trump's arse so hard that he couldn't even outwit her on areas where she has weak policy, what the fuck is WRONG with him'. big congrats from over here, this truly must be a lot of fun to watch

As noted, I didn't watch the actual debate, because I can't stand to look at his stupid face or hear his stupid voice for almost any reason and especially not for 90 minutes of lies. But reading the reactions last night and this morning has been both a) heroin grade schadenfreude right to the veins and b) totally shocking in that even the likes of Fox News and the Goddamn Republican Propaganda Mouthpiece New York Times (or at least a few individual writers, I'm sure their actual story will be stupid) are acknowledging that she absolutely cosmically annihilated him and it was not close. Now we wait in vain for the sort of coordinated and hysterical TRUMP MUST DROP OUT NOW stories that carpet-bombed the media within 24 hours of Biden's performance in the first debate, but.... baby steps. Or something.

Anyway, aside from crushing him on the issues, she basically put a dog collar on him and set Roadrunner-level traps, and he charged headfirst into them every time, because he is a sociopathic narcissist who is pathologically incapable of not being baited by the most obvious taunts. She made him look like the ranting crazy old felonious treasonous buffoon that he is, which is not necessarily easy to do when you have an opponent who just loudly and constantly spews bullshit (witness how it overwhelmed Biden at the first debate). And she did it all with a smile and making it look easy while he was murdered onstage for 90 minutes, looked like she could have easily gone another 90, immediately called for a second debate, and then Taylor Swift endorsed her within 20 minutes of it ending. I mean. RESPECT.

Etc etc debates don't vote, polls don't vote, it is still a close race, all the usual caveats. But Donny Don got Spanky Spanked, everyone knows it, every idiot in the media chirping about how Kamala Has To Be Dazzling Or She’s Doomed can shut tf up because she was, and once more, all the memes and reactions just pouring scorn and mockery on Trump will hurt him as much or more than the actual spectacle of him transforming into a burning dumpster on primetime television. So. Yes. I am indeed pleased.

[atzloverr]

Yunho - NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man’s aftercare is just… *chef’s kiss*. He will do everything he needs to make sure you feel safe and loved. He whispers praises into your ear, as he tenderly holds you in his arms.

“You did so good for me baby,” he’ll say as he slowly strokes your hair lovingly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This man LOVES your thighs. He’ll do everything to make sure he gets to be close to them. Wether that means running his hands up your thigh, kissing them, marking them with love bites, or simply having his head in between them, solely depends on his mood :)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves breeding you. Even the thought of his warm cum filling you up, can make him hard in an instant. If he can’t breed you, he’ll want to at least cum in your pretty mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He won’t admit it, but seeing you wear his clothes is an instant turn out for him. Seeing the way you drown in his big hoodie makes him want to take you right then and there.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He might’ve done it a few times, but he has never done it like he does it with you. He felt shy in the early stages of your relationship, feeling inexperienced in bed, but you assured him that he didn’t need to feel self concious <3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His all time favorite is probably missionary. He loves seeing the expressions you make as he ruts into you. Cowgirl is an honorable mention. He basically loves anything where he can see you, kiss you and be close to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I believe he’s not very serious during the act. He doesn’t crack a joke in the middle of it, but he sure loves teasing you, chuckling at your cute reactions as he makes you flustered.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn’t exactly have a bush, but I don’t think he’s hairless either. He probably has a bit of a stub. I feel like the feeling of having no hair down there makes him kind of uncomfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sure, he loves to tease you, but he’s also a hopeless romantic. He’ll drop L-bombs in the middle of the act, just because that’s exactly how he feels. He loves being close to you during sex. He wants to kiss you, whisper in your ear, and simply feel your warmth as the two of you make love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Whenever you’re away from each other, he can’t stop thinking about you. He’ll get desperate at times, feeling the need to just get some relief. If he misses you that much, he’ll call you just to hear your voice.

“Y/n, I miss you so much,” he’ll whine into the phone. This not being the first time he’s done this, you just start talking to him. You’ll tell him how much you miss him, and how you can’t wait to see him again. He moans faintly into the phone, as he silently gets off to the sound of your voice.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He definitely has a bit of a size kink. Seeing the way his cock looks, as it rests against your stomach, it makes him shiver with excitement. Or when the two of you are holding hands. Just seeing how small your hand looks in his makes him think inappropriate things.

Breeding kink. No comment.

He likes marking you. Whether that be in small bites or hickeys, he just loves it. He just loves the beautiful sounds you make as he sucks on your neck. He doesn’t actually want to hurt you, but after you told him how hot you found it, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place is probably the bed. He likes to take his time with you, and in order to do that, he wants you to feel as comfortable as possible.

Honorable mention: the shower. He loves the feeling of your wet skin against his, as he kisses you passionately.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

This man will get turned on by literally ANYTHING. Seeing your bare thighs in shorts, seeing them expand when you sit down. God it makes him feral. He loves feeling your skin on his, so when you touch him, kiss him, sit on his lap or just have your hand on him, he can get turned on. What can I say? He’s a simple man.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t do anything cnc related. He always wants to make sure you’re 100% comfortable and consenting to what’s going on, so that would be an instant no for him. He also doesn’t want to hit you. He could playfully slap your ass, but the thought of hurting you makes him feel sick.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a sucker (haha get it) for blowjobs. The way you look up at him as his hard length disappears into your mouth, lord. He loves the feeling of your mouth around him so much, he’ll practically beg you to go down on him is he wants go get off. He loves going down on you too of course, but he prefers using his hands on you tbh.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think he can do a bit of both. He’s not particularly rough, but his thrusts can still be pretty hard. He likes changing the pace throughout it, going slow and then suddenly speeding up, making you close, just to slow down again.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not too fond of quickies. He prefers taking his time, making sure to prepare you well, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If he’s really horny when the two of you are not at home, or simply don’t have the time, he’ll make sure both of you get off. He doesn’t usually penetrate you in these situations, he prefers that you either go down on each other, or satisfy each other else way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes being a little risky sometimes, but not too risky. Only to the extent where someone might hear the two of you, if you don’t keep quiet. He doesn’t want anyone actually walking in on you, or doing it in any other risky situation, so he’ll keep it pretty light.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a loooong time before getting worn out, but once you’ve started to go limp, he’ll usually want the two of you to “wrap it up”.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own many toys, and he doesn’t use them very often, but on special occasions, he’ll bring out the vibrator he has stored in his closet. He’ll most likely use it on you, but you could totally convince him to let you have a little fun.

Yunho whimpered and squirmed slightly as you held the vibrator to his swollen tip. “Y/n, p-please I-“ he tried to form words. You giggled at his flustered state. It was fun to rile him up too every once in a while.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s literally a walking tease. You get a taste of it in your everyday life, as he holds objects too far up for you to reach, laughing as you try to jump up. In bed, he’s even worse.

“Aww, were you about to cum sweetie?” he mocked as he removed his hands from your aching sex. You whined in frustration as he continued. “And what was that you said about me not being able to make you a mess?” Yunho teased. You pouted as he started working his hands on you again. “That’s what I thought.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s pretty quiet, but if he’s feeling extra worked up, he can end up whimpering in your ear as he thrusts into you. Most of the times though, he’ll just grunt and moan lowly as the pleasure washes over him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s very needy in the morning. As you gently wake him up, rubbing his shoulders and whispering to him, he slowly stirs out of sleep. He immediately groan and start spooning you from behind. Under the covers, you can feel something hard pressing against you. You just smiled at the usual occasion. He gently grinds against you, breathing heavily into your ear. “Is this okay, baby?” he asks, his morning voice deep and raspy. “Of course, sweetheart,” you answer as you feel his hands further roam your body.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s BIG down there, okay? I can’t tell you the exact inches and shit, but let’s just say you’ll need a lot of preparation before taking this man.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is surprisingly high. He often finds himself horny, and it can even be a little bit inconvenient for him. He feels like a burden, constantly being needy for sex. He didn’t want to make you feel like you were obliged to have sex with him whenever he felt excited, but you comforted him, reassuring him that he was not a burden at all.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won’t fall asleep before you do. He’ll make sure you feel comfortable, safe and loved, so while he’s still focusing on giving you the best cuddles in the world, you’re already fast asleep.

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed!!!

I take requests btwww :P

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, brief descriptions of masturbation, smut in later parts 

A/N: I got this idea from watching the newest season of Love is Blind and getting genuinely annoyed that the show still doesn’t have a more size inclusive dating pool. I feel like the show  could be so much more. There are many subjects the show could be featuring that it just doesn’t. Anyways, this is incredibly self-indulgent, Eddie Munson loves plus size women and I refuse to accept otherwise. Enjoy!

Please consider reblogging/commenting if you like it!

Day One: 

Eddie’s palms are sweaty, and he nervously wipes his hands on his jeans repeatedly. He bounces his leg, twisting the rings on his fingers. Fuck, what the hell is he even doing here? He’s sitting on a couch, facing a blank wall, and he’s absolutely scared shitless that he’s finally doing this. Hell, if it bombs, he gets some cash for participating. Whatever, it’s not like he actually believes in this shit. 

He’s up and pacing the room when he finally hears a door on the other side of the wall open and close. He literally jumps over from the back of the couch to get back in his seat. He can hear the faint patter of someone walking. Then it stops, he assumes the person on the other side has taken a seat.

“This is so weird,” the voice from the other side of the wall says, and Eddie feels immediately at ease. He chuckles, shaking his head, standing up to walk the pent up energy out. 

“Batshit,” Eddie exclaims in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

“I’m here for the $200,” the voice jokes. “But that’s just me.”

He’s instantly relaxed, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he’s sitting alone in a drafty room on a lumpy couch. He’s intrigued, and ready to play the game. At least, he’s open to this first conversation. He feels a little better knowing that he’s not alone. He sits down finally, rubbing his hands still. 

“I’m here,” he begins, allowing himself to be a little vulnerable, “because I am sick of the way people look at me.”

“Fuck, amen to that,” the voice responds with a clap, and the reaction makes Eddie grin from ear to ear. “Guys are so shallow, no offense.” He laughs.

“I’m not usually this outgoing,” the voice shares, sounding a little more reserved, “There’s something about you not looking at me that's making me a little more brave.” Eddie thinks this girl sounds so incredibly sweet. He’s never been attracted to someone’s voice, but he’s feeling himself being pulled in. It’s gentle, and kind and not deserving of whatever the world did to you to lead you here. 

“Well, I’m used to being the spectacle,” Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch, slumping down. “I can’t help it,” he exhales, “I mean, people think the worst of me no matter what I do, so like, fuck it. I’m gonna have fun with it.” 

“Is that all of it?” the voice asks, knowingly. Eddie scoffs at the perception. Is he that obvious?

“No,” he cringes, and he hears a giggle from the other side of the wall. It helps him feel more comfortable. “Um honestly,” he continues, a little shy, “Part of me keeps the act up cause if people are watching me, I’m not alone. I’d rather be the laughing stock than have no one acknowledge me at all.” 

“I’m the opposite,” the voice shares, “I’d so much rather be out of sight out of mind.” 

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” he asks softly. 

“In my experience,” the voice continues, “it has always felt like people keep me around so they feel better about themselves. I know that’s not true- I know my friends love me. I just- being by myself is my comfort zone. I don’t need to worry about how I’m like being perceived. Or if, like, I'm being judged.” 

Eddie nods understandingly, until he remembers you can’t see him. 

“I get it,” he says, trying to be comforting. “I, uh, yeah.. People don’t like… they don’t like understand what it feels like when you just feel simultaneously so small and like you take up too much space- and how they’re the ones that make you feel that way.” 

“Wow- I’ve never heard it put into words so well before. That’s just been my life, you know?”

“We’re really getting deep huh?” he jokes, chest swelling with pride when he hears the laugh. 

“I really like your voice,” the voice admits, and Eddie feels his face heat and he’s sure his face is flushed red from the compliment. His ego has been very much stroked at this point, and he takes the opportunity to fully embrace this whole flirting thing. If he can at least leave this experiment making someone feel good, then he won’t consider this a waste of time. 

“Well, I really like your voice,” he quips. “Actually, uh- I’ve been sitting over here, on a really shitty couch. And I was asking myself what the hell was I doing here? I am probably the worst person for this experiment- I don’t think I could take this seriously. Then, I heard your voice- and I instantly felt attracted to you- if you can believe it. Now, I’m over here, your voice bringing out thing I would never fucking say out loud. I’m pacing around, you’ve made a mess of me.” 

It feels like only a short period of time goes by, but in actuality, Eddie and his mystery date get wrapped up in talking for over three hours. He talks to her about music, his favorite books, his Uncle Wayne… sharing more about himself to a total stranger than he’d ever volunteer to even his close friends. You swap childhood stories, commiserate over bullies, and before he knows it, he thinks you might know him better than anyone. 

A timer buzzes and it’s time for Eddie to move on to his next first “date.” As the door opens and one of the technicians is ready to escort him to the next room. He desperately stares at the wall before he moves, hoping to hear the voice one more time. 

“Please, if you’re still there,” he says standing up, “I want to talk with you again tomorrow.” He knocks on the wall, rings tapping. He receives a knock back, and he grins devilishly, 

“It’s a date.” 

The technician taps his shoulder and he nods, letting them lead him out to the next room. He wraps an arm around the mousy guy as he jots down something on his clipboard. “I have a date tomorrow,” Eddie beams, looking back at the blank wall like he’s looking back to get another glance at you. 

Day Two:

You still tug anxiously at your shirt, making sure it’s not clinging to your belly. Even though none of your dates can see you, you can’t shake the self conscious feeling. Yesterday was draining, all of the dates you had fell so short after that first one. Nothing came as easy to you as that first one, and you’re hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon. 

You take a sip of your water, and opt to move from the couch to the floor. You sit criss-crossed and stare at the wall in front of you. You really focus on your breathing and try to let yourself open up. You’re here because you’re hoping to find someone who likes you for you- but no matter what, you’re still incredibly anxious thinking about the big reveal. No matter how well the conversations go, you worry it will be null and void once they see you’re plus size. 

“Please, please, please for the love of God that this is finally you?” you hear a familiar voice whine, and you can’t contain your smile. “Pretty girl, c’mon talk to me.”

“You don’t know what I look like,” you scoff, but still, you feel yourself still melting like putty. 

“Fuck, finally,” mystery boy sighs, and you hear him collapse on the couch. You can only assume his set-up is the same as yours. “Baby, I have been dying to hear your voice again.”

“This experiment not working out for you?” you ask, sympathetically. You find it hard to believe he’s not chatting up everyone else and hitting on them the same way he does with you. It’s the only explanation. You can’t let yourself believe he genuinely feels differently towards you. 

“No this sucks,” he says, and then you hear him blow a raspberry. You can’t help it but laugh in agreement. “I just want to talk to you.” He sounds so vulnerable, and you actually find yourself believing him. 

“Again,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “You don’t really know anything about me.” 

“I want to,” he sounds so sincere, and it makes your heart swell. “You are the least boring person here.” 

“I’m touched,” you reply sarcastically, and you feel good hearing that you made him laugh. 

“I wish I could take you out,” he says and he sounds closer, like he’s sitting up against the wall. “I’ve got like no fucking money,” he laughs. 

“I hate going out,” you reassure him, “I want to just hangout with you.”

“No, no, no,” he says dramatically, “No safe zone. You deserve to go out and be shown off. I am not gonna lock you away from the world, I’m gonna show you off.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” You quip, letting yourself slip into a little bit of a fantasy. You let yourself feel wanted and feel desirable even if it’s contained to this room. 

“Well, not to be like that guy,” he’s suddenly sounding a little shy and you find it very endearing. “But like, I’d want to bring you to one of my band’s shows. Like- don’t get me wrong, we play at like really shitty bars that take way too long to drive to. And we don’t even make back the money the gas costs to get there, but like, I really like it and um, that’s uh when I feel I’m at my best, and I’d want you to see that side of me.” 

“So what does bringing girls to a show look like for you?” you ask nervously, feeling a little twinge of jealousy that he may have done this before with someone else. 

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “if I was capable of getting girls out in the wild do you think I would’ve signed up for this?” You laugh a little. “Trust me,” he further explains, “This is not something I never imagined I could do before talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” you reply, and you're sure he can hear your smile through the wall. “Let me rephrase,” you say, taking a deep breath, “What does bringing me to a show look like?”

“Well,” he exhales, “I’d pick you up, in my really nice and not sketchy at all van that doesn’t make any questionable noises. I usually drive the guys too but honestly, fuck them, I want us to have time together. I don’t mind telling them to pound sand. And don’t feel bad for them, they’re also kind of assholes.” 

You can’t help but giggle, noticing he tends to have that effect on you. He makes you nervous in a really good way, and you try hard to fight it, but you worry that it’s no use. As much as you find yourself really enjoying mystery boy’s company, you can’t help but let that fear creep in that all of this will go away if he ever sees you. 

“But anyways,” he continues, “I’ll admit it, I’m a little bit of a show off. And I know if you were there watching me, I’d just like be putting my all into it. I would really try hard to impress you. I’d also want the pricks there to know you’re with me so no one bothers you, so as much as I know you’d hate it, I would point you out and tell the whole place you’re there with me.” 

Your face is so warm, and you can’t hold back the cheesy smile that has expanded across your whole face. You can’t believe a guy would be genuinely that proud to have you there with him. You really do think that he’s being genuine, and it makes your heart soar. 

“I’m really surprised you don’t have girls fawning over you, rockstar,” you smile, wanting to make him feel special too. Even if this crashes and burns, you can tell he’s a sweet guy. You can see that maybe he’ll let you down gently. You don’t know why your insecurities hold you down this much. You, more than anyone, get in the way of your own happiness. You’re determined to not let it affect you this deeply. You resolve to let yourself see how this goes, and to throw yourself into it- willing to get hurt. 

“Trust me,” he scoffs, “I am not what you’re thinking I am. I’m not like that guy, I’m more awkward than anything. I think girls are more interested in the football star guys, the future suits, you know? Guys with a haircut and go to college- They don’t want to waste their time with a going nowhere punk.” 

“I really don’t think that’s true,” you speculate, “There’s no one with a poster of Jack Welch on their wall- but every girl I know has a picture of Eddie VanHalen.” 

“Is there like a peephole in here or something?” He says jokingly, knocking on the wall, like he’s looking for one. “Or are you just a psychic or something?” 

“What are you even talking about?” You chuckle, raising an eyebrow, confused. You shake your head, but before you can’t get clarification, the buzzer sounds, marking the end of your time with him for today. 

“NOOO,” you hear him dramatically exhale. A muffled voice, your assuming is one of the lab techs must be exhausted. 

You press your hand to the wall, as your form of an intimate goodbye as the technician holds the door open for you. You get up from your spot and head out, excited to come back tomorrow for another round of dates. 

Leaving Hawkins Lab, each test subject needs to stagger there exits as to not risk accidentally seeing the other candidates. You are in a small waiting room, doing your daily exit interview with one of the neuroscientists. 

*** 

Under the agreement you signed when you volunteered for the experiment, you are not permitted to go to any locations where people socialize and congregate. You’re not permitted to go anywhere where you may accidentally see or meet one of the other subjects. You are required to only go out on necessary errands such as grocery shopping or appointments. 

On the drive back to your apartment, your mind keeps overplaying the worst case scenarios your anxiety keeps conjuring. You know the whole point of the experiment is to see if love, or whatever trumps physical attraction. If hypothetically, someone does fall in love with you- your appearance shouldn’t be a factor. However, it’s not wrong for you to want your partner to be attracted to you. And you acknowledge physical attraction is a thing and if you aren’t someone’s type that isn’t bad either. Your past experiences and unresolved childhood traumas surrounding your appearance and self-esteem, makes it difficult to allow yourself to see that you are actually desirable. 

Although unknown to you, a lot of people in this experiment feel the exact same way. Not fitting into the box society wants to slot them in has made dating incredibly difficult for many. There’s a comfort knowing everyone there supposedly wants the same thing as you, just to be loved. You weren’t sure going in that you would even make connections with anyone. At first, it felt like low stakes- worst case scenario you walk away no better off than before. But, you didn’t anticipate actually hitting it off with someone like you have, and it’s opened a whole new set of fears. 

***

At his trailer, Eddie just stares up at the vent in the ceiling above his bed. He blows out another puff of smoke and watches as it swirls and wafts up into the air around him. His thoughts are consumed entirely with you. He watches how the smoke from his blunt mixes with the smoke of his burning incense and his mind drifts, just completely fixated on how the minutes on the clock tick by until he can talk to you again. 

He wonders if you’re thinking about him, the same way he’s thinking about you. He wonders if you’re trying to picture what he looks like the same way he’s making guesses about you. He thinks about if you smoke, and he imagines what it’d be like if he was sharing this with you. Thinking about what it would look like, your lips around the joint, blowing out smoke from what he imagines is just a sexy mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes and let a little frustrated groan escape at the thought. 

He can’t picture the entirety of you, but more so he can imagine just your presence in his room. He imagines the feeling of someone laying beside him, smooth skin he can run his hands across, the warmth radiating off of another body in his bed. He has your voice in his head, wishing you were talking to him now. 

With his eyes closed, joint put aside on his ashtray, he imagines it’s your hands tugging down his jeans, and it’s your hand wrapping around his hard cock that’s staining the band of his boxers now. He thinks about your laugh, and that adorable giggle of yours, and how much he can bask in the fact that it’s him who elicits those reactions from you. He thinks about the sweet voice, the flirty fluctuations of your tone when you warmed up to him. He imagines you using that same voice to tease him if you were here, seeing just how much of a mess you’ve made of him. 

He’s never been able to get off without some kind of visual aid, so to speak, before. Now, he’s practically whimpering just thinking about the sound of your voice and thinking about your hands on him. He thinks about the feeling of your hands working his length up and down. He imagines how playful it would be, rolling around on this bed with you as the layers you're both wearing come off. He doesn’t even need to try to think about what you look like to feel aroused by you. He doesn’t even care in the slightest at this moment. 

He’s so needy, twitching as he feels himself get closer, and he thinks about what you would be whispering in his ear to get him to finish. He imagines the praise, and the way you would be begging for his cum. He realizes he doesn’t even know your name, as he’s hit with the urge to call it out. 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans instead, working himself up to his release. He keeps moaning out his little nickname for you until he’s made a mess of his shirt and he’s gasping to catch his breath as his orgasm extracted all the energy from his body. 

Tomorrow, he resolves, he needs to learn your name. 

PART TWO

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: so. this wasn’t a fic i planned on writing but kind of needed to, in order to just process some shit. i had the same thyroid surgery a couple of years ago, but only had half of it out at the time. i recently had a little bit of a scare that there was something going on with the remaining half (there wasn’t, i’m all good!!) but i sat down ready to write a different andrei fic and this one came out instead 😬 it’s kind of funny, because i wanted to post an andrei fic on the one year anniversary of posting that first andrei fic and it weirdly worked out that this fic is an opposite of that first one - andrei taking care of reader as opposed to her taking care of him after the acl injury. anyway, stupidly long note over and just one final thing: i have been so grateful and blessed by all the love for my hockey fics this past year and i’m looking forward to writing more fun fics for you guys 🤍

word count: 6.6k

tw: cancer mention, surgery mention, incisions and scarring mention

summary: when you have a medical scare, it’s andrei’s turn to take care of you

You manage to keep your emotions under control and locked away until you get home and Andrei’s head pops up over the back of the couch, television remote in hand, smile on his face as he asks, “how was your day?”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re bursting into hysterical tears, sobs wracking your entire body. Your bag slips off your shoulder and lands on the floor with a thump and you can’t see Andrei’s face fall in fear through your tears. But a second later, his arms are strong around your body, his chest solid under your cheek as he crushes you in a hug.

You’re grateful for it, for his solid presence, because the second he touches you, your knees buckle and he’s the only thing keeping you standing.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Andrei’s voice is thick with fear, one large hand stroking the back of your head. His voice shakes when he asks, “did someone die?”

You manage a shake of your head against his chest, breath hiccuping out of your chest. Your lungs feel tight and you’re pretty sure you’re not getting enough oxygen in on your shaky, shallow breaths. Andrei pulls back slightly and cradles your face in his hands, fingers gripping just slightly too tight. The pressure grounds you and even though you’re still sobbing, your breathing feels easier.

“Solnyshka, please, what’s happening?” Andrei studies you with worried eyes, his accent stronger than usual. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, like windshield wipers getting rid of your tears. “You’re scaring me.”

“D-doctor called,” you manage to choke out and Andrei’s grip on your face gets tighter. Your stomach swirls with nausea and you’re afraid that you might vomit on him.

Andrei mutters a curse under his breath, your reaction isn’t for good news.

You raise a shaky hand to your mouth and press your fingertips against your lips, muffling your voice as you choke out a fragmented sentence, “b-biopsy was, um, it’s - they said. Oh fuck, um, c-cancer.”

The word hangs in the air between your bodies, dropped like a bomb.

Andrei’s eyes go wide and he stares at you, jaw going slack. “Fuck,” he grits out the curse and you press the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, hard, until you see little white starbursts.

One of his hands slides down the side of your jaw until his thumb is right over the lump just above your collarbone, the cause of your tears. He’d been the one to notice it months ago, pressing a kiss to your skin and mumbling that something felt off. You’d brushed him off, like an idiot, thinking it was nothing until he had mentioned it again a few weeks later, noting that it was bigger. Twice more he had to comment on it before you went to your doctor, starting down a path of blood draws, ultrasounds, CT scans, and most recently, a biopsy.

You feel like an idiot for waiting so long.

Andrei’s lips meet your forehead, a warm kiss stabilizing you. He mumbles something against your skin and wraps his arms around you again in a tight hug. You lean heavily against him, mind going a mile a minute, your doctor’s words ringing in your ears. Without realizing it, Andrei gently ushers you up to your room, helping you strip off your clothes and turning on the shower for you. You blink at him and he cups your cheek.

“Shower,” he says, voice hoarse. “Clean the day off, yes? Then we figure it out. Together.”

You nod, wiping at the tears still sliding down your cheeks. “Please don’t leave?” Your voice cracks. You don’t think you can be alone with your thoughts right now. “Just…just tell me about something. Anything.”

“Okay,” he nods and leans against the countertop, arms crossed over his stomach. He’s quiet for a few moments while you get situated in the shower, hot water running over your face. You splutter out the water when it fills your mouth and tears well up in your eyes again. Andrei’s eyes study you as he slowly begins to tell you about practice, clearly trying to remember each and every little detail that he can to try and distract you.

It sort of works, drawing a faint laugh when he tells you about Pyotr’s latest adventure in the crease, but also your brain can’t stop thinking about the c-word. It’s a constant loop in your brain - “I’m sorry, the biopsy was positive for malignant cells. Thyroid cancer. I’m scheduling you for an appointment in two days to discuss the plan going forward.”

Without you really participating, still in a daze, Andrei turns the shower off and bundles you in a towel, rubbing his hands up and down you arms to get some warmth in your body. He guides you into the bedroom and quickly helps you into sweats, bundling you up under the covers before climbing in next to you and pulling you close so your chest is flush against his.

“You’re shaking,” he comments, squeezing you tightly. Your head is tucked under his chin, nose pressed against his neck.

“She didn’t say,” you mumble, cutting yourself off. “What if it’s - what if it’s bad?”

Andrei shakes his head above you and his fingertips draw nonsense patterns on your back. “It won’t be,” he says firmly.

“But what if it is?” You press him in a shaky voice. “What if I’m like, just -“

“Stop,” he says shortly, interrupting your spiral. You shut your mouth with a little snap. “When do you see doctor again?”

“Two days,” you reply. “The first appointment, eight in the morning.”

Normally your doctor is booked up weeks in advance. The fact that she’s squeezing you in last minute only makes your heart beat faster, nausea churn in your stomach. It must be bad, for her to make sure you get in quickly. If it weren’t, wouldn’t she just let you schedule a normal appointment?

Andrei’s talking, but you don’t hear him over your spiralling thoughts. “Sorry,” you tap on his chest, drawing his attention. “I wasn’t- what were you saying?”

He kisses the crown of your head. “You can have breakfast before? I’ll take you for coffee before we go to the appointment. Is the office near that coffee shop you like?”

“You - wait,” you’re still not really processing what he’s saying, too hung up on cancercancercancer.

“Breakfast before your appointment,” Andrei repeats. His legs tangle with yours.

“You don’t have to -“ you start to say, shaking your head. He doesn’t need to be burdened with your medical stuff now.

Andrei interrupts you with a little pat to your ass. “I’m coming with you, final. No arguing, solnyshka,” his cheek rests against your head and you can feel his hands tremble a little against your back.

“Okay,” you murmur. “No arguing. But you might be late for practice…I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The thought of going to your appointment alone is terrifying though and you’re grateful that Andrei offered, that you didn’t have to ask. Because you wouldn’t have asked, not when you know he’s busy and distracted with the season. Not when you’re an adult and should be able to handle this on your own.

“Leave to me,” he says. “I’ll handle, okay? Just try to relax now and then we’ll have dinner.”

“I can’t eat,” you reply immediately, your stomach lurches violently. The thought of food is enough to have you ready to rush for the toilet. Frankly, you’re surprised you haven’t already vomited from the sheer anxiety of the situation.

“Then you can watch me eat,” Andrei jokes, surprising a weak giggle from you. You can feel his cheek move against the top of your head with a smile and allow yourself to focus on the steady beat of his heart under your cheek until you fall into a fitful, unsatisfying sleep.

The next day drags and speeds by and before you know it, you’re waking up at 4:30 in the morning on the day of your appointment. You try to stay quiet on your side of the bed, so you don’t wake Andrei up - there was a game last night and he’d gotten home late - but he’s more attuned to you than you realized. His hand slides over your hip, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the dark. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

His eyes are still shut and his voice is low and hoarse with sleep, but Andrei’s lips curl up in a sleepy, lazy smile. “Didn’t wake me,” he mumbles into the pillow as his hand finds yours. You lace your fingers with his, feeling the ridges of his knuckles with the pads of your fingers. “Don’t want you nervous alone.”

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out the word around the lump of emotion lodged in your throat. Andrei tugs on your hand and you slide closer to him, letting him tuck you under his arm and bury his face in your neck.

“Sleep again. Alarm is set,” his breath is warm on your skin and his arm is a heavy, reassuring weight over your stomach. You close your eyes and let yourself mimic Andrei’s slow, steady breathing. It’s not easy and your brain continues whirling a mile a minute, thinking about the lump on your neck, the possible treatment, possible long term effects. You just wish you knew already how bad it is.

Andrei grunts next to you, blowing little pieces of hair from your face. “Stop thinking, solnyshka. You’re going to start a fire with all your thoughts,” he kisses your shoulder and pulls you closer, crushing you against his side so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. You focus on the weight of his arm and the heat of his body until you can feel your heartbeat slow down.

The next time you wake up, it’s to an empty bed and the smell of eggs and bacon in the air. You yawn and stretch out, turning your head to see the time on your Hatch. 6:45, a much more reasonable time to be awake.

A pit sits heavy in your stomach and you scrub a hand over your face, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. Just over an hour until you really know what you’re dealing with.

You can hear Andrei moving around in the kitchen and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed and move on auto-pilot to get ready for the appointment. You take time with your hair and makeup, feeling a little bit better once you start looking like a human again.

“Hi,” you greet Andrei quietly once you head down to the kitchen. He looks up from where he’s scrolling on his phone while eating his first breakfast of eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” he opens one arm for you to come and lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. “Sleep well?”

You lift one shoulder in a shrug and Andrei chuckles a bit. “Snored and drooled all over me,” he teases, “so it was a rhetorical question.”

“I did not!” You protest, a spark of energy flaring while you defend yourself. You push back from Andrei’s side and squint at him, a little pout on your lips.

“Did too,” Andrei grins and when he grabs your chin in his hand to draw you in for a kiss, you know he provoked you on purpose and is happy with the result.

You exhale a scoff through your nose when he pulls back, shit-eating grin still on his face. “Terrible man,” you murmur affectionately.

His grin turns smirky and his hand slides down to rest against the curve of your ass. He pats lightly, a little frisson of heat traveling through your body at the contact. You sigh and lean into him again, not looking forward to leaving the little bubble of your home.

At the coffee shop, you pick at the cinnamon scone Andrei had forced into your hands, crumbs littering the tabletop as you shred it with your fingers. Andrei studies you, chewing on the black plastic straw in his iced white chocolate mocha. You’re startled when he abruptly asks, “where do you want to go this summer?”

Crumbs skitter across the table when your fingers jolt and you blink at him, hands frozen in midair. “What?” You ask, shaking your head and processing. It clicks a second later and you continue, “I…I can’t think about the summer, Drei. I just need to get through today.”

He keeps chewing on the straw and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move. “Solnyshka, when this is over and you’re not going anywhere on vacation, you’ll tell me that we should have planned something,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, where do you want to go this summer?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, again, overwhelmed by Andrei’s thoughtfulness. Pausing for time and to make sure your voice isn’t shaky when you do speak, you look down at the massacred scone and brush your fingers together to get rid of the crumbs on your fingers. “Um,” you clear your throat, “I don’t know, really. Nykki and Martin love Mauritius. Maybe there?”

“Whatever you want,” Andrei agrees easily, slurping at his drink. He pushes the napkin with a larger chunk of scone on it towards you. “Eat,” he demands, tone firm.

You take a small bite, just to appease him, but the pastry tastes like sawdust in your mouth.

Andrei holds your hand throughout the entire appointment and you’re grateful for his presence, because you can’t focus on anything your doctor says after ‘stage I papillary thyroid cancer’ and ‘surgery’ and ‘radioactive iodine treatment, just to be sure.’ He squeezes your fingers tighter and tighter as your doctor talks, pointing out something on the black and white images of your ultrasound and CT scan. The blurry blobs could be anything and you honestly have no idea what she’s pointing at.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, blood rushing like you’re underwater, as she explains the surgery you’ll be undergoing. A thyroidectomy to remove your entire thyroid and the cancerous lymph nodes. In and out in the hospital, a straight line cut across your lower throat. A scar unless you’re good with applying Vitamin E oil or Mederma. Possible damage to your vocal cords, but that’s very rare.

“What does your schedule look like in the next month?” She asks, briskly but not unkindly.

You blink at her and shake your head slightly. Andrei looks at you, waiting for an answer. “I, um,” you pause, trying to mentally access your calendar, “I’m open. I just…have to put in the leave time at work.”

“Good,” she says, looking down at the paper calendar on her desktop and running her finger over the boxes, “we’ll schedule your thyroidectomy for a week and a half from today, that’s a lighter day for me. All the pre-op information will be in your portal and we’ll go from there on scheduling the rest of your treatment. Any questions?”

A million.

“No,” you murmur, “um, not right now.”

“Can I stay with her?” Andrei leans forward to ask. “When she has surgery?”

“You can wait in the waiting room while she’s under,” your doctor replies. “And once she’s out of the anaesthesia and discharged, you’ll have to drive her home. She won’t be able to drive for a day or so while the anaesthesia really works out of her system.”

You’re shaking your head. “No, you have work. You have practice and games, someone else will drive me. I’ll ask Nykki…”

“No,” Andrei turns to you with wide brown eyes. “I’ll drive you. I’ll be there, solnyshka.”

You shake your head again, but keep quiet because you don’t want to have a fight with Andrei in front of the doctor. The rest of the appointment is routine scheduling and you leave with your head swimming and a surgery date burned into your brain.

You’re quiet the rest of the day and Andrei doesn’t push you to talk, instead trying to go about your routine as normally as possible. He’s missed practice - “personal reasons” Rod’s quoted as saying on Twitter, but “nothing that will prevent him from playing tomorrow.”

The next week and a half feels like a blur - you’re distracted and anxious with Andrei playing three games in seven days, two of them on the road, taking him away from you. He’s back the day before your surgery and doesn’t say anything when you greet him at the door with a tight hug and cling to him for the rest of the night, your stomach growling since you can’t eat, both from the anxiety and the pre-surgical requirements.

“Are you sure about missing the game tomorrow?” You ask later, when it’s dark and you’re buried under the blankets. “I feel -“

“Don’t feel bad,” Andrei rubs small circles over your back. “I made decision. Rod understands. You are more important than the game and the boys promised to win for you.”

A soft giggle escapes into the air and some of your guilt along with it. You hate that Andrei’s missing the game, hate that he’s missing it for you. You hate that everyone seems to know your personal business too, but you know Andrei had needed to talk about what you’re going through too.

His other hand moves up to your scalp and scratches gently, tension seeping from your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he kisses your cheek. “Early day tomorrow.”

“I love you,” you whisper. “So much.”

Andrei has to practically manhandle you into the car in the morning, making sure you’re dressed comfortably and warm. Your head rests against the window as he drives. “I’ll pick up some groceries while you’re napping,” he says, brushing his thumb over your knee. “Anything you want specific?”

“Butterscotch pudding,” you ask hopefully, smiling a little. You try not to eat a ton of processed foods, but you figure post-surgery you’ll indulge.

“On it,” Andrei grins at you, dimple popping. He looks calm, which reassures you. Once he parks and you enter the hospital, everything speeds up and slows down. Andrei helps you fill out paperwork while you change into the hospital gown and grippy socks.

You fold up your clothes neatly and put them in the little duffle bag you brought along. Andrei catches sight of the pile and raises an eyebrow, “are you not wearing underwear?”

Your cheeks heat up with a flush and you hold the gown shut behind you. “No,” you hiss, “I’m not allowed to. Don’t even start with me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” his smile is a little too sneaky and you try to climb onto the bed in a way that doesn’t leave your entire ass exposed. You fail miserably, if the little wolf-whistle Andrei lets out is any indication.

“I hate you,” you mutter, pulling the sheet up around your legs. You’re both quiet while the nurse comes around to make sure all your paperwork is filled out and signed. Andrei immediately reaches for your hand when the nurse puts the IV line in your other hand - “for the anesthesia, later,” she explains - knowing that you hate needles more than anything.

And then there’s nothing to do but wait.

Andrei’s sitting on the edge of the bed, texting and reading out the messages that the guys are directing to you. “Jarvy,” he says, wincing at the screen, “wants to know if you get to keep your thyroid once it’s removed.”

“Uh, no,” you reply flatly, face screwing up in disgust at the thought of it. “I hate this.”

His hand lands on your knee and rubs it through the sheet. “It will be over before you know it,” he soothes you. “In meantime, Skjeisy says you can join me and him in the cool scar club.”

Your hand subconsciously lifts to your throat, fingers wrapping around it loosely, and you blow out a breath, puffing up your cheeks. “Not a club I really wanted to join,” you say wryly.

You scroll through Twitter absently, a pit of guilt settling low in your stomach when you see the Tweet from the Canes’ account that Andrei’s missing tonight’s game for personal reasons. Your thumb hovers over the tweet, ready to tap on it and read the replies, when Andrei plucks the device from your hands. “Hey!” You protest, reaching for your phone. Andrei pulls it out of your reach.

“No more social media,” he says, tucking your phone in the back pocket of his jeans for safe keeping. With his other hand, he digs a little envelope out of his front pocket. “I forgot, yesterday, to give this to you. But mom sent this and I was supposed to give it to you before surgery,” he settles the little envelope in your hands and you look at it curiously.

Opening the flap, you tilt the contents out onto the palm of your hand - a little gold medallion on a chain. You hold it up to your face and see the tiny icon embossed into the gold. “Who is this?” You ask, rubbing your thumb over the image.

“Saint Anastasia,” Andrei replies, “she was a healer, I think. Mama wanted to make sure you were protected.”

Elena’s gesture of love and concern hits you like a punch to the stomach and you startle both yourself and Andrei by bursting out into ugly, loud sobs. Your face crumples and fingers tighten around the chain.

Andrei lets out a noise of distress that you can barely hear over your crying and rush of blood in your ears. His arms wrap around your upper body and you bury your face in his chest, getting tears and snot everywhere. “It’s okay,” he whispers in your ear, stroking a hand over your hair. “Hey, stop crying, nurses are going to think something is wrong. Shh.”

“I just really love your mom,” you wail into his chest, muffled by his shirt.

Andrei keeps shushing you, alternating with trying to comfort you. You sniffle and pull back, wiping at your face with the back of your wrist. “Better?” Andrei asks, cupping your chin. His lips are drawn down in a concerned frown.

“A little, yeah,” you nod, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. You hold your other hand up, the little pendant dangling from its chain in between your faces. “Can you keep this safe for me?”

He nods and lets you clasp the chain around his neck. The little pendant falls into place against his chest, dwarfed next to his giant cross. You smooth your fingertips over the icon and his cross, lingering for a few heartbeats over the warm metals. Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours and he squeezes your fingers. “You are going to be perfect, solnyshka,” he mumbles, lifting your hand to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.

“Okay, kids,” your nurse, a cheerful older woman named Monica, appears at the foot of your bed, drawing yours and Andrei’s attention, “one more kiss and then I’m whisking you off to the best sleep of your life.”

Andrei squeezes your fingers again and presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling, “see you soon.”

You press your fingers into his chest, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling like you’re going to hold on and not let go. With a shaky sigh, you release him and manage a brave little smile, “don’t forget my butterscotch pudding.”

He nods, laughing under his breath, and then Monica’s helping you get settled back on the bed and Andrei steps off to the side while a whole little team appears to transport you to the operating room. You twist your fingers together anxiously, stomach turning, and turn on the bed so you can keep looking at Andrei until you’re completely out of the pre-op ward. He catches your eye and winks, waving a little and tapping his other hand over his chest, where your icon hangs next to his cross.

“He’s a real cutie,” Monica comments idly, drawing your attention once the swinging doors are shut behind your little parade and Andrei’s out of sight.

“Oh,” you hum faintly, “he really is. I don’t deserve him, honestly.”

“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” she keeps chatting as you get situated on the operating table, climbing awkwardly from your bed, trying to keep the gown closed over your ass. “You’re just as cute, even more, I’d say.”

“Thanks,” you laugh a little, the compliment warming the icy block of nerves lodged in your chest. Once you’re laid out on the table, you run a hand over your sternum, breathing deeply.

The surgeon comes in and offers you a warm smile, “I promise, I’m really good at this.”

You’re thrown off a little by the statement and he nods, clearly pleased with himself. “I find that patients always want me to be a little cocky,” he continues, sitting down on a wheeling stool next to the table you’re on. “We’ll be done before you know it and you’ll wake up feeling extremely well-rested.”

“As long as you’ve got the skill to back up your words,” you say, surprisingly reassured a bit by his no-nonsense manner.

Monica pats your hand and grins, “he does. Now, count back from ten and you’ll be back with that sweetheart of yours in no time.”

Your lips curl up briefly and you angle your head away when you feel the little tug on the IV in your hand indicating that the anesthesia is getting attached and started. In your head, you start the count at ten, nine, eight —

“Oh, looks like she’s coming around,” a voice breaks through the dark haziness surrounding you and you try to blink, but your body feels too heavy.

There’s a warm pressure on your hand and you twitch your fingers against it. A little shiver works its way through your body, you’re freezing.

The warmth on your hand moves up your arm - a hand stroking against your skin. “Whenever you’re ready,” the familiar accent washes over you, “I can’t wait to see those eyes, solnyshka.”

A hum forms in the back of your throat and that’s a mistake because it hurts and you let yourself fall back asleep to avoid the pain.

The next time you wake up, the bright lights of the hospital almost force you to close your eyes again. You grumble wordlessly and the noise draws Andrei’s attention from where he’s sitting in a chair next to your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looks over at you and his face immediately breaks out into a wide, dimpled smile.

“Hey,” he greets you, scooting the chair closer and reaching for your hands. His are still warm against your cold ones and it’s nice when his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

Before answering, you take stock of your body and you’re surprised to find that you feel pretty good beyond the pain in your throat. That feels like you’re swallowing knives. “‘M okay,” you manage to mumble quietly, wincing at the stretch of your skin. “C’n I have water?”

“Da,” Andrei pours water into a little plastic cup and hands it to you, plunking a straw in the water. You take a sip and it feels so good going down, the cold water soothing the burning. You sigh happily and sink back into the pillows.

“How’d it go?” You ask, rolling your head so your cheek is resting on your shoulder and you can see Andrei better. Your voice scratches out of your throat, raspy and hoarse like you’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes.

“Surgeon says perfect,” Andrei grins, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “You did so good, solnyshka.”

His fingers never stop stroking yours and you melt at the contact, glad his the first face you saw when you woke up. “Wonder how bad the scar is,” you mutter, resisting the urge to touch your lower neck, where the skin feels tight and battered. “Can I see?”

Andrei’s hesitation and slight frown before he says, “maybe not best idea right now,” tells you all you need to know.

“Oh my god,” your eyes go wide, panic starting to claw at your chest. “He botched me! I’m botched, it’s a horrible scar, right?”

“No, no!” Andrei shakes his head frantically. “Not botched! It just, with the glue, there’s no stitches. But you can see all the blood. It looks worse than it is, the surgeon said.”

“But it looks really bad,” you confirm and before Andrei can say anything, Monica appears behind his shoulder.

“Look at you, awake and ready to go,” she smiles, effectively cutting off any discussion about your neck, and asking how you feel while filling out your chart. You answer as honestly as you can, voice growing more hoarse the longer you talk. “Well, everything looks really good. We’re going to keep you here for a few more hours and then, if everything keeps looking good, you’ll be back home before dinner time.”

You and Andrei chime a simultaneous ‘thank you’ as she leaves.

“Give me my phone,” you demand and Andrei shakes his head.

“No way,” he taps the back of your hand. “I’ll be your secretary. You’re just going to get upset if you look.”

“I won’t!” You counter petulantly, poking your lower lip out. “I just want to see.”

“When we get home,” he promises and you scowl at him. He effortlessly changes the subject, showing you a picture of Gigi that Martin had apparently sent earlier. You smile at your favorite puppy, swallowing often to try and ease the sharp pain. It doesn’t do much other than intensify the pain and you start to regret it, closing your eyes for another nap.

By the time you’re cleared for discharge, the pain meds have worn off completely and your neck hurts, a dark mood clouding your head. Andrei is patient with you, helping you change back into your sweats and zip-up. You protest the wheelchair an orderly brings around, but you’re told it’s hospital policy and you slump into the seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Andrei runs his hand over the crown of your head as he walks next to you, carrying your empty duffel bag.

Instead of driving his Lamborghini, your Toyota Rav is waiting at the curb and you smile. “Oh thank god,” you mutter and Andrei laughs.

“Didn’t think you’d want to get down low in my car,” he explains, holding out a hand to help you stand and then climb up into the passenger seat. He left a blanket in the car for you too and you take the opportunity to cover yourself up with it while he goes around the front of the car. You wave at the orderly through the window and Andrei starts the car.

“You thought right,” you yawn. It’s a fast drive home and you’re grateful for that, because all you want to do is rinse off and lay down. Considering you’d been under anesthesia for a couple of hours, you’re exhausted. You’re so tired, you forget to flip down the visor mirror to look at your incision.

Once you’re home, Andrei bundles you into the house, one hand solid against your lower back as he guides you up the front path. “I know you want to shower,” Andrei says, “but remember the doctor said not to get the glue wet for twenty four hours.”

You whine, cranky and desperate for a shower. “I want all the gross hospital feeling off of me, Drei,” you pout, toeing off your sneakers and crossing your arms.

He drops your tote next to your sneakers and raises an eyebrow. “I know, you can get in the bath and I’ll wash your hair. We’ll be careful with your neck, okay ?”

Your neck feels stiff and your throat is still sore, but you nod, just wanting to take your Tylenol and relax. When you shuffle further into the house, you spot bouquets of flowers on the kitchen island and gasp. “What are those?” You whisper hoarsely, tears prickling at your eyes.

“Oh, right,” Andrei laughs. “Special deliveries for my girl. The team sent and your office, Neci and Nykki. My parents, your parents, Geno.”

Tears slip down your cheeks and you feel overwhelmed with love. You wipe at your eyes with the heels of your palms and turn to Andrei for a hug. He embraces you easily and you shake your head. “I didn’t want everyone to know,” your throat hurts more when you cry.

“Only the important people,” he says. “Everyone loves you, solnyshka.”

The reminder of how many people are supporting you makes you think of Elena’s gift and you pull back from Andrei’s chest. “Can I have my necklace back now?” You ask in a shaky voice.

“Of course,” he unclasps the thin chain from his neck and hooks it around yours, pleased to see that the chain doesn’t touch your glued over incision. He taps the pendant with the tip of his finger and kisses your temple.

After an unsatisfying bath and a glance in the mirror that shows the dark rings under your eyes and the gruesome looking wound on your neck, you’re more or less clean and you build a nest of blankets and pillows on your bed, tucking yourself into the middle of it all. You have to sleep sitting up or partially reclined for the first night and it’s not your favorite way to sleep, so you prop a bunch of pillows around your head and hope that works. Andrei brings you a butterscotch pudding and climbs onto his side of the bed so you can watch the game.

“My neck looks awful,” you blurt, unable to stop thinking about it.

“It doesn’t,” Andrei replies. “Just for now with the blood and glue.”

“The scar is going to be so obvious in pictures,” you poke at the pudding with your spoon.

“You look badass,” Andrei rolls onto his side and grins at you. “Like a warrior.”

You scowl at him, feeling like he’s making fun of you even though you know he’s completely serious. You jab at the pudding again, suddenly nauseous. “I wish this was it,” you mutter, still raspy and hoarse and you’re really hoping it’s just temporary and that the surgeon didn’t actually fuck up your vocal cords. “But I still have the radiation and then who knows…”

“One day at a time,” Andrei knocks your foot with his. “That’s what you said to me, right? Every time I’ve been recovering, it’s one day at a time.”

He’s right, for each and every one of his injuries, you had been preaching taking recovery one day at a time. You suppose it’s time to practice what you preach now. Still, your anxiety ratchets up every time you think about the c-word, darkness and worst case scenarios dancing in your head. You twist your fingers around a piece of hair, fidgeting as you mind spins.

Andrei’s hand snakes over your thigh, rubbing gently at the soft fabric of your sweats. He rests his chin just above your knee and says, “hey, look at me.” It feels weird when he talks, chin bouncing on your leg, but you look down at him.

“Hm?” You chew at your lower lip.

“One day at a time,” he repeats firmly, refusing to break eye contact with you. When you nod and he’s satisfied, he presses a kiss to your knee and rolls back onto his back. “Who do you think scores first?” He gestures to the TV, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

You play along, wanting to avoid the pain and the scary future for now. Scooping out a bite of pudding and sticking the spoon in your mouth, you hum around the dessert before teasing, “oh, it’s definitely going to be Pyotr.”

Life goes pretty much back to normal over the next few days, you’re back at work and Andrei hits the road with the team. The glue over your incision flakes off and while the cut is a vivid, angry-looking red, it’s a clean, straight line only about three inches long. You’re obsessive about applying Mederma and Vitamin E oil to help the scar fade as quickly as possible. Your voice is still a little raspy, but it’s getting better slowly.

By the end of the week, you’re working up the courage to call your doctor to schedule your radiation therapy session. It’s a terrifying thought and your hands shake every time you think about it. But Andrei had sent a text this morning, reminding you to make the call. And you don’t want to let him down, not after how supportive he’s been. So, you stare down at the contact information for your doctor’s office, wishing you could, like, use the Force to make the call.

Startling you, the phone begins to vibrate on the table, the same contact information you had been looking at flashing on the screen.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, blinking stupidly at the phone and swiping at the last second to accept the call. “Hello?”

It’s your doctor, making a personal call, the smile evident in her voice. Within minutes, you’re sobbing with relief as she tells you they ran additional tests on the tissue taken from your neck and while the initial thought and course of action had been to have radiation therapy, the surgeon was confident he had gotten all the cancerous tissue out of your neck.

“You’re cancer-free,” she tells you cheerfully. “I love making these calls.”

“Really?” You manage to squeak out the word around your tears.

“Really. You’ll have to be on a synthetic thyroid pill for the rest of your life and see me every four to six months for blood tests and evaluations,” she explains, “but I am very confident that the malignancy is gone and you won’t need radiation therapy.”

The rest of the conversation passes in a blur and you’re pretty sure the only thing you manage to say is a repeated ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’ before the call ends.

You sit on the couch, shell-shocked, gripping the little icon hanging around your neck.

That’s where Andrei finds you when he gets back from morning skate, tears dripping down your cheeks. Before he can ask, you catch his eyes and beam, “cancer free.”

Andrei lets out an unintelligible, strangled noise of joy and rushes to the couch, swinging you up in his arms and holding you to his chest in a bruising hug. He murmurs in Russian in your ear and you can feel his shoulders shake a little. “I love you,” he murmurs, while you cling to him, “I love you so much, solnyshka. So much.”

His arms are tight around your back and you hook your legs around his waist, not wanting to let go any time soon. Your face is buried in his neck and you’re not sure if his skin is damp from his shower or your tears, but you can’t stop crying.

“Did you book Mauritius?” You laugh wetly into Andrei’s shoulder.

Andrei’s laugh startles out of his chest, echoing around the living room and vibrating through your whole body. It’s your favorite sound in the whole world and you can’t wait to keep hearing it for a long time.

[fairlyang]

Help 🕷️

in which you get your boss a fleshlight

w/c: 1.4K

pairing: boss!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. toy usage, catching him use it, voyeurism, pervy reader

After having a very wonderful and eye opening conversation with Peter B Parker about him explaining how Miguel had been complaining to him about the lack of intimacy in his life and Peter taking that as he only missed physical touch like hand holding, over.... other things... more obvious things....

You got the great idea to buy him a toy, a fleshlight to be more specific.

It had just arrived at your front door this morning and you made sure to get a bag for it to fit perfectly inside alone with a little note that said "to help you out;)"

You grinned as you walked through the portal from your apartment to HQ, you were very excited to give Miguel his gift and were already thinking of how fast you'd have to run away after giving it to him. You didn't wanna see his reaction afraid he'd get mad in an instant but figured he may as well put his anger to good use, against a toy.

You made your way to Miguel's office, your confidence never leaving as this could help him out a lot, plus it was expensive so you hoped he'd use it over completely ignoring it. Plus it'd be something good for him to let his frustration out on, surely a good orgasm could go a long way for him.

You see him fully immersed in his screens with his back turned to you so you put the bag down by his platform then let out a low whistle for him to take notice of you then quickly swing away as soon as he turned his head.

Miguel groaned at the sight of you swinging away but then rolls his eyes when he sees the bag on the floor. He already had enough of Gwen and Miles' pranks now he had to worry about you too?

And to think he thought you were just chirpy and curious not annoying and obnoxious. He sighed and walked over, bending out to see what was inside because curiosity got the best of him.

He grabbed the bag and pulled the box out of it, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw what it was.

He was dumbfounded.

Of all the possible things he had imagined, that, was the last thing he expected.

He had expected a glitter bomb, maybe some spiders, hell literally anything else.

He blinked at it and shook his head, surely that's not what is actually inside? He took a look inside the bag and groaned reading the note. Help? For what-

He withdrew his talons and sliced the tape up before quickly opening the box. Come to find out it indeed was a fleshlight.

Was this a new kind of prank? What was the meaning of this?

He rolls his eyes in frustration and takes the toy from out of its plastic pack before looking at it blankly. Unimpressed.

But then his eyes scanned over the lips of the fleshlight, he couldn't help but wonder who they belonged it.

They were opened up and the clit was barely seen, mostly covered up by the clitoral hood. He gulped and brought a finger down to see if the lips would move.

He slid his fingers between the lips as if he were doing it to a real woman and it felt incredibly realistic. He then gently lifted the hood up and there was the clit in all it's glory. He rubbed his finger against it and that felt real too.

He groaned already feeling his cock grow hard beneath his suit. He then moved his fingers and spat on it before his fingers made its way slowly spreading his spit along the folds of his new toy.

He then sighed and walked over to where he had his chair when looking over the screens. He ignored whatever video was playing and sat down before pressing a button on his watch and the lower half of his suit disintegrated into pixels until it revealed his hard cock.

He spread his legs wide and leaned over a bit to spit on his cock before he slowly started to stroke himself. He then stopped and brought his fingers back to the toy, slipping two fingers inside and already feeling the silicone walls wrap around his fingers so good.

He moaned at the sensation and could already tell this was going to feel incredible on his cock. The way his fingers were only halfway and the toy was just sucking him in, squeezing his fingers and he couldn't handle it anymore.

He slipped his fingers out and immediately positioned the toy to his cock, he held it up with his other hand and slowly slipped his tip inside. He let out a groan, as expected the toy was extremely tight.

He pulled it out and spit on it again then slides his fingers inside and started fingering the toy making sure it was wet from the inside as well so he could just slip in easier.

He fingered it fast and then pulled his fingers out and positioned the toy to his tip again. He slides the toy down and this time it goes down easier but it was still so fucking tight. He groaned and laid his head back against the chair, it felt too fucking real.

He closed his eyes and started moving his right hand slowly, teasing himself on purpose. The toy was barely halfway on his cock when he slams it down letting out desperate moans out of pure pleasure.

Just then you walked up to his office, bringing back some reports of the last missions you did quickly flipping over them when you hear moans. You raise an eyebrow and look up at Miguel's platform, seeing him using the toy you got him.

You didn't expect him to actually use it... you thought he'd throw it away or just not pay any attention to it at all but boy were you wrong.

You quietly got closer, and saw as he was slamming the toy up and down on his cock. The noises that left his mouth could live in your wet dreams for the rest of your life.

You gulped and continued watching, not able to stop, absolutely obsessed with how he was bucking his hips up. And how his head was hung back with his eyes closed.

He looked so good.

He moaned and thrusted his hips up as he continued fucking the toy, doing it faster now.

And sounded incredible.

You squeezed your thighs together already feeling your arousal build up from his moans alone. But hearing the sounds the toy was making was also helping out.

You bit your lip and slid a hand down between your legs not able to help but be turned on at the sight in front of you. And the fact it was a toy you gave him and it hadn't even been an hour and he was already using it.

You rub along your folds over your suit and feel your arousal moving around. That was fast.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat when he began thrusted up and stopped moving his hand with the toy, completely relying on his own hips to feel the tightness of the fleshlight.

He started slamming up into the toy making you a nervous wreck that you'd accidentally make a noise. You started rubbing your clit at a same pace Miguel was going and it was already getting harder and harder to stay quiet.

Soon enough your pussy was going to be loud enough for him to hear. But at least him not having any spider sense really helped you out otherwise he would've kicked you out as soon as you walked in.

Suddenly his moans become louder and his pace was slowly down. His legs were shaking and he groans lifting his hips up and stays like that, filling up the fleshlight to the brim.

You watched in awe and took quick notice of him sitting back down and slowly lifting the toy up. He slid the toy up and off his cock, his cum instantly leaking out of the hole and dripping down to his thighs.

He groaned in annoyance and you realized you've overdone your stay. You bring your hand up from between your legs and quietly step back, then quickly swing away not believing what you just saw.

[lauraneedstochill]

I debated whether I should keep my opinion on EP3 in the comments to @st-eve-barnes post (she made some good arguments btw!) but I guess I’m out of fucks to give. just like the HOTD scriptwriters ✌

big fat disclaimer: I sincerely can’t say a single bad thing about Ewan. his acting was absolutely amazing, he owned the scene, and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t have a problem with nudity (if you watched “High Life”, you know what I’m talking about; if you didn’t, please read the warnings before watching).

my problem is with everything leading up to the brothel scene with Aegon — because this is NOT how you write conflict, and because it could’ve hit way harder if only it was done PROPERLY. unsurprisingly, it started in EP2:

➡ the fact that we got absolutely no reaction to B&C from Aemond is a joke. I’ve read some people saying “well, Jaehaerys isn’t his son so why would he care” — sure, Aemond wasn’t competing to win the uncle of the year award. BUT you are telling me he wouldn’t simply be pissed about the fact that a couple of nobodies managed to sneak into the supposedly well-guarded castle and kill a Targaryen like it’s no big deal? that they dared to put a knife to Helaena’s neck, that they clearly could’ve done worse things to her? that they left a mess in his room, touched his stuff? you mean Aemond, who is definitely an annoying perfectionist who puts every thing in its specific place, Aemond who’s extremely arrogant about being the best warrior, the biggest defender, the mister-know-it-all, Aemond who clearly has anger issues — HE wouldn’t be fuming on the inside? HE wouldn’t rush to the small council meeting to know all the details? HE wouldn’t volunteer to help Aegon murder the ones responsible? it’s a pity everyone’s forgotten S1 Aemond but I have NOT.

➡ I won’t talk much about the brothel scene in EP2 (@pygmyharmoset analyzed it really well) but I will say that to me it felt very disconnected from the main plotline. yet again, there is NO ! BUILD UP ! was it so hard to at least show Aemond leaving? to let us know what mood he was in (was he agitated? fidgeting? when exactly he decided to leave? did something trigger it?). they could’ve cut out the moment of his arrival so we wouldn’t know where he was going to have the big shocking reveal later when he’s suddenly with Sylvi, all naked and vulnerable. it would’ve only taken an additional MINUTE of screentime!

➡ now, to the worst of it — and I really want you to think over what I’m about to say:

people are allowed to grieve in their own way. not everyone is lucky to have all the right tools to process trauma.

did Aegon treat Aemond poorly? was he mean and cruel to his younger brother? yes. yes, he was (newsflash: there are no good people in this show. hope this helps).

BUT

was Aegon’s child killed because of a mistake Aemond made? is it possible that Aegon’s been harboring his resentment, that the absence of Aemond in that tragic, pivotal moment in their lives hurt him? the answer is also YES. Aegon doesn’t know how and has never seen how to cope with emotions in a healthy way, and it’s not in his power to break the cycle so he keeps repeating all the same mistakes. that’s the tragedy of it and that’s the ticking bomb planted under the foundation of their relationship.

the tragedy of that dumbass writing we’ve been presented with is that we did not see their conflict take root. we DID NOT get to see how their discontent kept growing, how they both felt caged and dissatisfied with their circumstances (Aegon realizes no one wants him on the throne and he feels helpless, Aemond is constantly being denied the chance to prove himself so he also feels helpless) — and how eventually that anger they couldn’t channel into anything else made them lash out at each other.

my first thought after watching EP3 was that there’s gotta be a scene missing between the small council meeting and the brothel scene. there SHOULD’VE been a scene with just Aegon and Aemond, they had all the reasons and opportunities for it! here, think about this:

Aemond’s comment at the end of the meeting comes off as patronizing (“It’s a brave thought” — Aemond is forbidden to leave with Vhagar so he’s glad that Aegon has to sit back, too). Aegon insists that he’s just “as fearsome”; but the thing is, he isn’t sure of it, so of course Aemond’s words stay with him, nibble at him, and it would only take a cup or two for him to get heated about it. he calls Aemond to his chambers and brings back the topic — “You don’t deem me brave, brother? You do not think I’d fight just as hard?”. it’s only the two of them, Aegon is in full armor, standing on his little wooden stool, a cup in his hands. and because he is hurting, he wants to hurt Aemond in return. so he gets off the stool and comes closer to him, sneering, “You are, no doubt, a fierce warrior,” — but then the smile falls off his face, and his voice gets quiet, pained, searing, “So tell me, where were you when my son was being murdered? I came to learn that they were looking for you, were they not? Oh, you would’ve fought them off with ease, for sure. So where were you, huh?”

and then you get the tension breaking, the emotions erupting — and, most importantly, the CONFLICT. Aegon throws the cup away, darts to Aemond, grabs him by his clothes (remember how desperately he held his face in EP9 of S1? the parallel would’ve been so beautiful !), finally screaming “Have you any idea what you’ve done? WHAT IT COST US?” — and now he isn’t talking about B&C but about Luke too. only, we’ve seen the extent of Aemond’s guilt and he isn’t about to show it now, taken aback by Aegon’s outburst, so instead of taking the blame, Aemond does what he knows best — he attacks him in return. they throw accusations at each other: Aemond reminds Aegon he was getting drunk, he himself didn’t do anything to be there for his family, he didn’t even do anything to deserve being on the throne. it’s nasty, it’s a shouting match, Aegon’s buddies eventually have to come in to pull them away from each other.

and it’s no surprise that Aegon goes back to drinking after that. and Aemond, overwhelmed and in disarray, goes back to the only place that can grant him comfort. so when Aegon finds him there and dares to humiliate him publicly and rob him of that illusion of comfort — that’s when something switches in Aemond. that’s when he decides he’s not a loyal dog anymore.

and that is, in my humble and very subjective opinion, how you properly bring someone’s temper to a boiling point. if only Ryan Condal ever cared, HA.

[sebscore]

THE MORE YOU KNOW 

pairings: sebastian vettel x driver!reader / fernando alonso x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x sebastian vettel

warnings: none.

author's note: when I think of a gen z driver on the grid, I think of her teaching the older ones what certain words mean. I had a lot of fun writing this one and I'm happy with the positive reactions to the female driver headcanons post! I might turn this into a series, but I seriously need a name for it, so suggestions are always welcome.

• • • • • • •

"Hey," Sebastian tapped her shoulder and she pulled her airpods from her ears, "what are you listening to?" He had been curious to what the young lady had been listening to every time she pulled her airpods out. 

"Lady Gaga!" She told him, excited that the German driver was interested in what music she listened to. She showed him her phone and it showed she was listening to "Love Game". 

Sebastian nodded, he knew the artist but her songs were a complete mystery to him. "Is it a good song?" 

"It's a bop, Seb." 

The curious grin on Sebastian's face was replaced by a confused expression. He had never encountered that phrase before. 

He offered her an awkward laugh. "Oh, that's good, Y/N." 

The young woman noticed the visible confusion on his face, and her suspicions were confirmed by his hesitant answer. 

"You don't know what that means, do you?" 

Sebastian became flustered as soon as the question left her mouth, a bit embarrassed that he was caught. 

"Oh my god, Sebastian!" She exclaimed, shocked that he didn't know what the word meant. "This is unacceptable!" 

"Y/N, I don't know that kind of language, I was born in the 80's." He defended himself, blaming his age for not knowing popular slang. 

"When you say a song is a bop, it means you find it a very good song." She explained, almost like how a teacher would clarify something to their student. 

"Ah, okay." Sebastian was confident he was never ever going to use that word in a conversation, but at least he learned something new. 

"Seb, Y/N." Fernando approached his two colleagues, greeting them with a smile. 

They greeted him back and it was like the Spanish driver came to them at the right time. "Nando, do you know what 'bop' means?" The German asked him, hoping he would be just as clueless as he was. 

"What? Bomb?" The confusion on Fernando's face caused the woman to burst out laughing, amused by the entire situation. 

Sebastian chuckled at her, before focusing back on Fernando. "No, no, bop," he clarified for him, "it's something that you call a song." 

The Spaniard shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed together. "No, is it an internet thing?" He directed the question towards the young lady that still was losing her mind over Fernando's confusion. 

Sebastian answered for her, starting to laugh as well. "Yes, when you really like a song, you call it a bop." He explained to the older driver, the use of his hands showing how serious he was being. 

"Bop?" Fernando said one more time, still confused by the pronunciation of the word. 

Y/N nodded, her laughter having died down. "Yes, bop! B-O-P." She spelled for him. 

"You really learn something new everyday, huh?" 

Despite Sebastian's claim that he would never use the new learned word in a conversation, he couldn't help but wanting to show off that he had acquired new knowledge to some of the other drivers. And he knew exactly who to start with. 

"Lewis!" 

The Mercedes driver flinched at the sudden opening of his driver room door, but he immediately smiled upon seeing who was his guest. "Hey, Seb!" 

"Oh, you were listening to music?" Sebastian had taken notice of the headphones that laid beside Lewis on his couch. 

The Brit nodded, putting the song on pause. "Yeah." 

"What, uh, were you listening to?" 

Lewis chuckled, not being used to the German asking after his musical interests. "A song by Future, he's a rapper." 

"Oh, nice," he nodded, "Is the song a bop?" As the word left his lips, he glanced at Lewis to catch his reaction. 

Lewis was surprised, not expecting Sebastian to throw in a word like that in a conversation. "Yes, it's, uh, very good indeed." 

Sebastian was pleased with himself, content that Lewis seemed impressed with him. 

"Where- where did you learn that word?" The man opposite him giggled, not having a clue as to how Sebastian even knew about the existence of the term. 

"Y/N taught me." He answered with a proud look on his face. 

"I should've known." 

[undercover-smutlover]

Multiple Characters x Reader...

main masterlist📌

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Works by @miniwheat77

Sizes. 141+Alejandro x Reader: Who has the biggest dick?

By Nature, She’s Naughty: Y/n was a wild one

Works by @mistydeyes

Hunk-o-mania Pt.1: The boys thought wrong, now they’re performing

Playboy Bunny Pheonix Edition Pt.2: The boys are very pleased with the solution

Opposite Occupations Pt.1: They realize that all the long hours are worth it

Take A Walk In My Shoes Pt.2: A day in your life

Almost Military Wives GC Pt.3: What goes on when the boys are deployed

Works by @sprout-fics

Afterburn: Just 6 dudes taking care of their girl

Poly 141 x Reader: It takes weeks, month for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all, you’re exhausted

Works by @loveindefinitely

Need To Listen To Me: that was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room

Lust for Life: You’re suddenly all too desperate to get back at your father and experiment a thing or two

Works by @the-californicationist

They Help You Practice: You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

The Window, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7:

Works by @charliemwrites

From SpecGru With Love

Men at Work

Works by @tojisun

Nosy Neighbours

Sugar, Spice, Everything on Ice

Keeping Him Quiet

141 + König First Word Reactions by @starstruckmiraclekitty: Reactions to their babies’ first words

Be Gentle Man Pt.1 and Be Gentle Man Pt.2 by @rileyslibrary: Etiquette training

Breeding Team by @sirenmoth: AU where reader is an omega who took suppressants

Strip Poker Pt.1 by @catsnkooks: Soap’s CO brought out some cards

Cachorrita Pt.1 and Cachorrita Pt.2 Los Vaqueros x Reader by @lxstfathier: Caught in the middle of narco violence, you are taken in

Four Big Guys by @antigonusyuki: And oh, all the blood rushes to John’s cock

Civillian Asset by @cuckoo-on-a-string: There’s blood under your nails and a threat to your life

Price’s wife = the wife of 141 by @ghosts-cyphera: and you managed. of course you managed. you were price’s good little wife

Sparrow by @diejager: Their tense shoulders slouched, finally knowing where you went

Mafia!141 by @groguspicklejar:

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star by @vellichor-of-the-solivagant: Now, he made music out of you

Home is Where You Are by @1-ker0sene-1: "Taking good care of our boys John…You always do…Making sure you all come home to me again”

Cook!reader x 141 and The Assistant by @bookbrokelibrarian:

Lift Me Off My Feet by @lovifie:

Cherry Bomb by @swordsandholly

FFS Riley Collection by @dozeydaisy

Dad!141 x Mama!Reader by @baduzzxy

Mafia!141 AU, Ext. by @ghouljams

Suite 141 by @mangowafflesss

Contractors!141 by @kyletogaz

Down the Hatch by @syoddeye

Frozen Hearts Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7 by @lushrve

Can’t Stop Thinking About Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Pt.8, Pt.9, Pt.10 by @a-b-riddle

Free Use by @bzurk

Really Good Neighbours by @dragonnarrative-writes

Whole Other Notebook by @auspicioustidings

Retired!141 x Rancher!Reader by @purple-moonbeam

Lifeline by @indigosunsetao3

Ranking by @gardenthatneversleeps

You’re Only Sixteen by @siddyyyyyyyy

On The Run by @devil-in-hiding

Hair Series by @kyletogaz

Secret Baby by @gloomwitchwrites

The Office AU by @flowerfreya

Loop by @eevee-of-eternity

Restaurant Au! 141 by @disgustingtwitches

Blue-Collar!141 x Reader by @xo-codbby

Naps to Lovers by @i-love-you-just-the-same

Y/N Being Feral for Her Future Husband by @feralgoblinqueen

Mafia!141 by @cordeliawhohung

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[anxious-witch]

On Charles, Edwin and Crystal's relationship with violence and how it does(and doesn't) solve their peoblems, and the inherit privledge of considering non-violence can always be the answer.

Before I get to it, sorry I cannot for the life of me find the post that talked about DBDA's relationship to violence aka that it shows that there is always a better solution and how most of the problems are solved through other means. It is a really good post, so if anyone knows it, please send me the link so I can put it here.

Anyway. What I wanted to say is that while yes, I partially agree, I don't think that's quite correct. Or not always. The series definitely makes a point of saying that things should be solved by other means whenever possible, but I think we see 3 instances where that isn't true. The first meeting with The Night Nurse and Charles, Crystal meeting David in the woods, and in part, Charles getting Edwin out of Hell.

Before I get to breaking down how each one was necessary, I think what kind of bothers me is the reaction Edwin and Crystal have to Charles attacking the Night Nurse. Not so much the inital reaction because I understand that they both have trauma connected to violence, but them insisting his reaction was extreme slightly...irks me?

I understand it from Crystal-she had a lot on her plate in the past few weeks and she just got out of abusive rs. Not to mention, she doesn't know Charles and Edwin for that long. But Edwin? My god did I wanna shake him.

Like, don't get me wrong, I love Edwin to death and the fact that he is flawed is part of that but I wish it was acknowledged that his disregard for self defense and to be able to not only refuse violence, but in many cases when Charles steps in to protect him to not even move aside because he knows Charles is there for what it is-a privledge. The fact that he never had ti physically defend himself ever since he got out of Hell is a privledge because Charles does it. And to no small personal cost. I don't think Charles likes to be violent. He doesn't revel in it, and we actually see him break down several times over thinking he is a bad person because he uses violence to defend himself and his friends.

Does he sometimes use it impulsively? Yes, as seen in the episode with the Devlins'. And he pays dearly for hi error, being stuck in a loop that's directly related to his own trauma.

But in some situations, there was no other answer. The Night Nurse would have made him and Edwin relieve their trauma until they gave in. Crystal couldn't help and in that moment, neither could Niko. Charles' violence gave them more time, which gave Edwin and then Niko, more time to think of a peaceful solution. Of a bargain. But it would not have been possible without Charles kicking her off the cliff.

For the scene with David in the woods-yeah, sure he didn't solve the whole problem of David altogether, but he did A) male him fuck off for the forseeable future and B) helped Crystal feel safer due to the fact he defended her when she was powerless. With the violence, he gives her time to gain her powers back, to come and resolve it directly when she feels safe and confident enough to do so.

We see it once again when he goes to save Edwin in Hell. Yes, they get out of Hell by running, but when Charles initally suggests it, Edwin is terrified. "If I run it chases me," he says and he doesn't move. So what does Charles do? He throws a bomb at the Dollhead Spider. Which once again, gives them time to run and escape and perhaps more importantly makes Edwin feel safe.

Violence is considered bad for a reason. But I think who and why someone uses violence is very important. A bully throwing a hit for fun and a victim throwing one back to defend themselves aren't the same. They cannot be the same. And bullies, no matter the form they take, sometimes only understand violence.

I am not saying go ahead and kill someone for bullying you. But I am saying that sometimes, the teachers don't listen until you throw a punch back. Problems should always be tried to solved peacefully, but if you think every problem can be solved non-violently, I think you had the privledge to never have to do so.

Charles takes on the burden of being a protector, of using violence as means of protection and I really hope that's acknowledged at some point. Because while yes, Edwin obviously has his own talents, Charles does his job at a great personal cost. And sometimes, while violence cannot solve the root of the problem, it can give you more time and space to get to the root. And that's okay, as long as you don't lose sight of why are you using measures you are using.

[correlance]

'Hazbin Hotel' Episode 6 plot hole: Angel Dust didn't just do drugs or porn. He also killed lots of people when he was alive.

I rewatched the entire show from the pilot to Episode 8, and one thing that is glaringly absent from Episode 6, and Charlie arguing that Angel Dust deserves redemption and to be in Heaven, is that Angel Dust has not only murdered people, but he seems to enjoy killing people to "blow off steam". This is especially apparent in Episodes 4 and 8.

In the pilot episode, if one still counts that as canon, Angel literally engaged in a turf war alongside Cherri Bomb, using his tommy guns to shoot down his opponents, and he also used the same guns and angelic steel bullets to injure and kill numerous angels in the extermination. Even if Angel was shooting to kill in self-defense, by Heaven's standards, it is still technically considered a mortal sin.

However, the biggest issue with Angel's path to redemption is that, according to previous Q&A interviews with series creator Vivienne Medrano (VivziePop), Angel was part of the mafia when he was alive, which is where he obviously gets his marksmanship and shooting skills from. That means that Angel also killed and murdered people in mob hits, with a kill count in the dozens, if not hundreds. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Angel has dealt with folks that he and his family personally sent to Hell by murdering them in mafia hits.

I still don't understand how Episode 6 somehow overlooked this, especially since showing scenes when Angel was a living human, and him killing people, would've been simple and easy for Adam to do. In fact, in Christian and Biblical mythology and folklore, human souls are typically judged on what they did in life, and not in Hell, a fact that Alastor himself also aptly pointed out in the pilot episode:

"Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! No, no, no, no. I don't think there's anything left that could save such loathsome sinners! The chance given was the life they lived before, the punishment is this! There is no undoing what is done!"

I really hope that the writers fix this by having Angel explain to Charlie what he did when he was alive. Currently, Charlie seems to be under the impression that Angel is in Hell because he was a drug addict, as well as a porn star. However, the true reason is likely because Angel killed a lot of people when he was alive and a mobster. While he wasn't a serial killer, like Alastor was, he doesn't seem to be remorseful about it, or even takes pleasure in killing. He also literally wanted to murder Sir Pentious, alongside Vaggie, in Episode 2 ("Can't we just kill him? Shoot him and spill his blood?"), with no hesitation or remorse.

So, how can Charlie redeem Angel Dust? The first step is actually addressing the fact that, y'know, Angel murdered people, and that his first reaction and instinct in a conflict is to be like R. Kelly, and pull out his gun, start blasting, and "cap some b*tches". I really hope that the show does this in Season 2, because with Angel, it's a major issue.

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Iggy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The wild child, the mad lad, the resident scientist himself! I think about him a regular amount.

Left-handed.

His powers are more plant-based, and he's very good at controlling them, but inventing is a big hobby of his that plays into how he attacks. To put it in other terms, he's got Artificer software running on Druid hardware.

His eye color is a rare mutation of his draconic koopa biology, though it does give him some issues with his vision, hence the glasses.

He's definitely wacky, but he's not actually ‘demented’ or ‘insane’ like most think he is. That being said, he likes to play up the whole ‘mad scientist' act around other people because he enjoys their reactions. Maybe a little too much…

April Fool's is a banned celebration in the castle because of him. Not that it stops him from pulling pranks on any other day of the year.

His favorite fruits are more tropical things; kiwis, pineapples, and starfruit.

Prefers Chain Chomps and other animals to people, as he's not great with conversation nor predicting people. Rumor has it that he can actually speak with them, but whether it's true remains to be seen.

He occasionally gets nonverbal when an experiment goes awry, or when he’s so upset he can’t find the words for it. His siblings check in on him every once in a while, and he does end up speaking again after a few hours / a day.

His hair naturally falls into a mohawk like in his earlier depictions; he just likes styling it back to differentiate himself from Lemmy.

Doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he's a big fan of savory things. That said, he does have a fondness for carrot cake.

He actually made his glasses when he realized his eyes didn’t see well with traditional lenses… and because he needed something that was fireproof, blast-proof, and freeze-proof, just to name a few. When he realized he could market it on a professional basis, Iggy’s Glass was created.

He's a big fan of his veggies! He's not a strict vegetarian, nor is he opposed to meat whatsoever, he just likes his greens more. Like I said, Druid hardware.

Speaking of food, if he's craving something, he often decides what to have not by flavor, but by texture. He looooves crunchy stuff or things he can rip into, like sandwiches with hard bread or jerky sticks.

He helps Wendy with her baking hobby! Baking is just another form of chemistry, after all, and he likes having something to do with his hands. He doesn't like cooking much, though. Too much guesswork.

He makes so many things for his siblings for holidays and birthdays, and is always touchingly surprised if they get him something personal or practical (not that he shows it).

He got Morton a camera for his tenth birthday to support his scrapbooking hobby, and is secretly very pleased that Morton takes such good care of it. He also denies crying when Morton showed him the page he made of the two of them with the photos he took.

His handwriting is the worst out of the seven. Given how fast he needs to write to keep up with his experiments, and his habit of using short phrases that only he understands, it's really legible to just him.

He genuinely is pretty funny. His humor is skewed towards shitposter memes thanks to Roy and Larry, but his sense of comedic timing to drop a bomb or punchline is perfect.

Will respond to highly cursed memes and images along the lines of "Oh, that's AWFUL. I LOVE IT."

His currency is amusement. You wanna get on his good side or impress him, making him laugh. This is harder then it sounds; if he can tell you’re trying too hard, he’ll just blast you with sarcasm.

Ludwig is teaching him how to play the accordion. It’s just as chaotic as it sounds.

He's a big fan of bad B-movie horrors, making fun of them while also unironically enjoying how terrible they are. He's got a few posters of them in his room.

He was the dog version of a warrior cats kid. I'm sorry, but it's true.

He likes to collect bugs! It's not a very big collection, seeing as the Darklands is uninhabitable by a majority of insects, but he likes learning and talking about them to anyone interested.

One of the most terrifying generals out of the Koopalings to the troops; not because he’s especially mean or strict or anything, but because you’ll have no idea how he’ll react to something. He is, however, perhaps also one of the the least military-inclined out of his siblings, much preferring his lab to a war room.

Will wear the UGLIEST shirts with zero concerns. Will also wear socks and sandals. Wendy loathes him.

Doesn't like coffee; the taste makes him nauseous. He's more of a soda guy, anyway.

He and Larry are huge sci-fi nerds, and enjoy bonding over comics and mecha anime and going to cons together. Also a big fan of horror; the more gore, the better.

Cannot draw people for shit. Animals and plants he can do okay at, but more in an anatomical kind of way then any artistic sort of style. Blueprints, however, are a different story.

Genuinely likes pistachio ice cream. None of his siblings know why, nor do they want to know.

Like Lemmy, he's very much a fan of pulling a prank and doing the "ohhhh I'm just a little guy, and it's my birthday, I'm a lil birthday boooy" routine. Unlike Lemmy, this rarely works for him.

His lab is his safe haven; it may be a mess in some places, but it's his mess. If you touch something you shouldn't, be prepared to get whacked.

Can and will pick up bugs and eat them. Bonus if they’re dipped in chocolate.

He doesn’t have any particular favorite flowers, but he's got a side hobby of cross-breeding and mutating plants for both science and in the sense of, in his own terms, “fucking around and finding out.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

I HAVE A VERY VERYYYY COOL Ask

So remember this current arc? All women had gotten their faces sticked into P*rn h*b?

Like deep faked.

I wanna know if how HTF characters react when their S/O gets deep faked-

Like Taehoon, Yeonwoo I mean we already know wangguk's reaction is by bombing the whole place HAHAHAHAHA. It's be cool if lookism characters are there too but do what you want and can 🥰 I'm just thinking hehehehehehehehe. Ur posts r sooo cool.

Oof my raccoon anon. I found this one difficult. Most of the HTF/Lookism guys I would imagine would literally follow in Wangguk's footsteps. Ahh sorry for another shitty list.

Lookism/HTF reacting to your deep fakes

Join Wangguk on his TNT rampage, no questions asked.

Daniel Park, Jay Hong, Zack Lee, Eli Jang, Warren Chae, Vin Jin, Ryuhei Kuroda, Xiaolong, Hudson Ahn, Jibeom Kwak, Seong Taehoon, Kim Munseong

Get Kouji (or Lua or HTF whoever) involved to find the source. Wipe all traces of it... then go on a TNT rampage.

Jake Kim, SInu Han, Jace Park, Jihan Kwak, Ji Yeonwoo, Seo Haesu

Leave no trace. At All. Of anything. The video, images, people who created it? Will all cease to exist. The building they worked from? Levelled. Not even ashes will be left behind.

Gun Park, Goo Kim, DG/James Lee, Eugene, Samuel Seo, Baek Seongjun, Lee Jinho

Makes more deepfakes for their own enjoyment. Not even sexy deepfakes. Just absolute NONSENSE.

Goo Kim, Vin Jin, Ryuhei Kuroda

Deep fake? What's a deep fake??

Vasco Tabasco, Johan Seong