#but of course it was a one off there won’t be any more and I’m doomed to be wanting forever

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　TOO MUCH

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt and Nick say some hurtful things to Chris during a fight, bringing his insecurities to life and causing him to turn to his anchor, Y/N.

WARNING: Insecurities, fighting, crying, anxiety attack.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The noise in the living room had escalated from playful teasing in front of the camera to sharp, biting words. Chris stood behind the kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared at Matt and Nick, who were both looking at him from the other side of the table with expressions caught between frustration and exasperation.

"Do you ever think before you act, Chris?" Matt's voice was, surprisingly, raised, an edge of impatience in his tone. "We can’t get through one day without you doing something childish and making a scene, or worse, making our videos look like shit because of it!"

Chris’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, his eyes darting between his brothers, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so out of hand.

"I wasn’t trying to do anything." He muttered finally, his voice barely above a whisper laced with hurt. "I was just... being myself."

"Yeah, exactly." Nick jumped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "And that’s the problem. You’re always yelling and doing the most, Chris. It’s just... exhausting, okay?"

Chris clenched his fists, jaw tight as he glared at Nick, feeling himself crumbling a bit because sure, he’s too much. Sure, he speaks too loud and had opinions about everything and wasn’t afraid to share them, even if they were about the silliest things. Sure, he feels cornered and childish and immature and annoying, and most of what they're saying is probably true, but hearing his own brothers say it out loud... it pains his heart.

"You know, that’s actually rich coming from you." He shot back, his voice carrying a frustration he couldn’t hold back, trying to disguise his pain with anger. "You’re always the first to say that people watch us because we’re different, because even though we look the same, we're still different. But all you ever do is complain that I’m not just like you or Matt!”

Nick’s expression shifted, taken aback by Chris’s words. But Nick wasn’t one to back down, his voice snapping back almost before Chris had finished speaking.

"That’s not what I’m saying at all!" He fired, eyes narrowing. "Is it so insane to want you to stop yelling and acting like a literal child in every video? We’re trying to be professional, Chris! People like us, yeah, but they won’t if you keep acting like-"

Chris dragged a hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, trying to shut out Nick’s words, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood.

"... and we can’t keep dealing with it, Chris. Grow the fuck up."

The youngest felt his chest tighten even more. His greatest insecurity - one that clawed at his chest every night when he couldn’t sleep, when the silence around him became deafening - was now on full display, brutally brought to life by the people he trusted most.

The internet was relentless in labeling him as "the weird one", the "annoying triplet", just because he was loud and talked too much, just because he was unapologetically himself. He’d laugh it off, of course, joke about it even because it was easier to pretend it didn’t bother him. But deep down, those words haunted him, scraping at the edges of his self-worth, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t enough.

And now, hearing Matt and Nick throw those same words at him... he felt hollow. Like all the air had been knocked from his lungs. They knew. They knew how those comments got to him, how hard he tried to ignore it, to rise above the criticism.

"Fine." He said bitterly, hating how his voice trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I’ll get out of your way, then."

He pushed his weight off of the table, preparing himself to get out of there, but as Chris stormed away, Nick's frustration boiled over, and he turned to Matt, his voice sharp and incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He hissed, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

But Chris kept walking, his shoulders tense as he made his way to the stairs, refusing to let himself look back. His brothers’ voices felt like static at this point, blending into the background as he forced himself to keep going.

Behind him, Matt muttered under his breath, an edge of impatience creeping in.

"Why is he being so dramatic?" He called, exasperation evident in his tone. "Chris, just come back, man! Let’s finish this video."

But Chris didn’t even slow down. Each word felt like salt in a wound he was struggling to ignore, a constant reminder that he wasn’t on the same level as them, that they were all looking at him like he was the problem.

Maybe he was.

As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing, every emotion simmering just below the surface.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached his bedroom door, a mix of anger, shame, and sadness twisting in his chest, his breath hitching as he struggled to keep it together. He wanted to scream, to push all the hurt away.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Y/N - curled up on his bed with notebooks spread around her and laptop balanced on her knees - looked up instantly, a huge smile spreading across her face as she noticed him, her expression so genuinely happy to see him that it made his heart ache even more.

"Hi, honey! How was filming?" She greeted brightly, unaware of the turmoil written across his face.

But her smile faltered quickly as she took in his red-rimmed eyes, the way his face seemed almost haunted, his body tense and trembling as he stood frozen in the doorway. She blinked, worry flashing across her features.

"Chris? Hey, what happened?" The girl whispered, and her words were like a lifeline, breaking the dam he’d tried so hard to keep in place.

She was quick in put her work together, placing her notebooks and laptop gently onto the floor beside her, leaving it all opened for her to come back to it later, her arms instinctively opening up to him.

"Come here, baby."

Without another thought, Chris crossed the room and collapsed into her open arms, sinking onto the bed as if the weight of the world had become too much for him to bear alone.

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face burrowing into her shoulder as if he could somehow hide from everything that had been clawing at him. His legs slid between her thighs, his body curling into hers, every part of him drawn in close, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. She could feel the way his shoulders shook, the silent sobs racking through him as he tried to hold back, his breath catching painfully against her neck. She held him even tighter, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers threading gently through his fluff hair as she pressed soft, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his temple, anywhere she could reach.

"Shh... It’s okay, sweetheart." She murmured softly, pressing her lips to his line of hair. "I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe, Chris. Just breathe, baby."

But Chris felt anything but safe in his own skin. Shame and hurt twisted inside him, tightening like a vice around his chest. He tried to fold himself even smaller, curling tighter into her, trying to somehow look smaller for a 5'8 grown man, pressing his body as close to hers as he could.

He wanted to disappear, to melt into her embrace, and let the world live freely without his presence. The words Matt and Nick had thrown at him - the very same words he read online, the labels he was used to brushing off - felt so true, so much a part of him that he couldn’t deny them.

Childish. Annoying. Immature.

He hated himself in that moment, hated how much he cared, hated how the words dug under his skin, making him feel unworthy, unloved.

"Am I... am I really that annoying?" He whispered, his voice cracking and sounding more horse than it should. "Do you... Do you think I’m too much, too?"

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully as she heard his words, the broken way he spoke them. She frowned deeply, pulling back just enough to look down at him, her hand cupping his wet cheek as she met his gaze, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down his face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." She shook her head gently, her voice laced with disbelief and fierce love. "No. No, Chris, of course not. You’re not annoying. You’re not too much. You’re everything I could ever want. You’re perfect exactly the way you are."

He clenched his fists, gripping onto Y/N’s hoodie - or better, his own blue hoodie -, his knuckles white with the force of it as he tried to agree with her, but her words didn’t seem to reach him. His brow furrowed, his eyes filling with fresh tears as he choked out.

"They said... They said I’m always yelling, being loud, making a scene... like I’m always... embarrassing them." His voice caught on the last words, his breath hitching as he fought to keep from breaking down completely.

Y/N held him tighter, her hand moving to the bottom of his white shirt, traveling inside of it only to rub soothing circles along his naked back as she spoke in a soft, steady tone, hoping her words would anchor him.

"Chris, they love you. They’re just... they don’t understand how much their words hurt sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you’re a burden or that you’re too much. You bring so much joy and energy to everything. That’s part of who you are, and it’s one of the things I love most about you."

He shook his head slightly, his breathing coming faster as anxiety started to build again, overtaking him.

"I... I just don’t get it. One minute, they’re saying people watch us because we’re different... and then they tell me I should be more like them. I don’t... I don’t know how to be that. I tried so hard to be like them, you have to believe me, but I don’t know how to change who I am-"

Y/N felt the depth of his frustration in the desperate way that he begged, wanting - no, needing - her to believe him. She cupped his face gently, urging him to look at her.

"You don’t have to change, Chris. Not for anyone. You’re enough just as you are, baby. And you’re not a burden. Not to me, not to anyone who really sees you and loves you for who you are."

He nodded slowly, finally trying to take a deep breath, only to feel like his nose was closed and his throat was being chocked by invisible hands. He closed his eyes forcefully, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to breathe in a gulp of air that never seemed to be enough. Chris could feel his heart tightening, his chest struggling in the quick movements of going up and down too many times in a second.

"Can't- I... Please-" He tried, tightening his hands around her hoodie, panicking with the anxiety attack that seemed to come so suddenly.

"Hey, hey, Chris. Sweetheart, you’re okay." Y/N whispered softly, her voice a calming presence against the storm inside him. She shifted slightly, one hand now resting on his chest with a firm press as she guided him through deep breaths, her own voice slow and steady. "Come on, just breathe with me, okay? In... and out... Nice and slow. I’m right here with you."

Following her lead, Chris pressed his eyes tighter in a way that made him see stars behind his eyelids, focusing on the rhythm of her voice, the rise and fall of her own breathing against his fists. With each exhale, he felt a bit of the tension release, his chest loosening as he tried to match her calming breaths.

Gradually, his racing heart began to slow, the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him feeling heavy, exhausted.

Y/N smiled softly, brushing her fingers through his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"There you go. That’s it... Well done, my strong boy. Now, just relax. I’ve got you."

As his breathing evened out, Chris opened his eyes slowly, his blurred gaze meeting hers with a vulnerability that tore at her heart.

"You don’t have to carry all of this alone, Chris. I’m always here for you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, okay? I love you... so much." She leaned down, pressing another kiss to his forehead as she held him close, her voice soft.

The gentle reassurance, the quiet love in her words wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him further into her warmth. His eyelids grew heavier, the tiredness finally catching up with him as he let himself surrender to the comfort of her arms, a quiet whine escaping his throat.

"I know, honey. Sleep." Y/N whispered, a tender smile on her lips as she cradled him closer, holding him like a mother would hold her kid, her hands tracing soothing patterns along his back. "You can rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

As she continued to whisper soft reassurances, her fingers running gently through his hair, Chris’s breathing finally evened out, his body relaxing completely in her arms. His head rested on the curve of her neck, his arms still wrapped around her waist as he drifted off, his pain and worries slipping away in the safety of her embrace.

Y/N leaned down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his hair before laying her cheek against his head, her arms wrapped securely around his body as she watched over him.

"I love you, sweet boy."

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A couple of hours had passed, the sunsetting casting a soft, warm light over Chris’s room, where he and Y/N lay wrapped together on the bed. Chris’s face was nestled against her shoulder, his breathing steady and calm now, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers.

Outside the room, Matt and Nick exchanged a glance. They’d been standing in the hallway for nearly five minutes, trying to muster the courage to knock. Their earlier argument with Chris had weighed heavily on both of them, guilt twisting in their stomachs as they replayed every hurtful word that had left their mouths.

Finally, Matt raised his fist and knocked softly on Chris’s door, the faint sound echoing in the silence. When there was no answer, he hesitated, glancing at Nick before slowly pushing the door open.

They both froze at the sight before them. Chris and Y/N were curled up together on the bed, Chris’s face still damp from tears as he lay against her, completely relaxed in her arms. Y/N had one arm around his shoulders, her fingers resting in his hair, while her other hand was hiding inside his shirt, holding his back, cradling him protectively. They looked peaceful.

Matt’s heart clenched at the sight, guilt intensifying as he took in Chris’s tear-streaked face. He glanced over at Nick, who was staring down at his feet, clearly feeling the same crushing remorse.

"Let's go. We can come back later." Matt muttered, pulling Nick towards himself before starting to back out of the room, thinking it might be best to give Chris a bit more time.

But just as they were about to close the door, Chris stirred, shifting slightly in Y/N’s arms. He nuzzled his head on her shoulder, his face just inches from the gentle slope of her neck where he could still catch the faint, familiar scent of her perfume mingling with the natural warmth of her skin.

He moved slightly, careful not to wake her, though his movement caused her to pull him in closer, her fingers instinctively brushing over his back. The feeling of her hand tracing small, soothing circles over his shoulder as if it was a muscle memory grounded him further, coaxing a soft sigh from him as he nuzzled deeper into her embrace, pressing a gentle, barely-there kiss to her neck.

When his sleepy eyes finally traveled around the room while gently stretching his legs between hers, he finally caught Matt and Nick's figures standing in the doorway.

His face fell the instant he realized they were there, his peaceful expression replaced by a guarded, distant look. Carefully, he eased himself up, making sure not to wake Y/N as he pulled himself away from her arms.

"Came for round two?" He looked at Matt and Nick, his sleepy voice laced with bitterness as he asked.

Nick swallowed, words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. What an irony. He opened his mouth but only managed to mumble, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out.

Finally, Nick took a small step closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Chris, I... we came to say... We just..." His pearly teeth caged his bottom lip momentarily, taking a deep breath. "We love that you’re different."

Chris stared at him, incredulous, eyebrows raised as he scoffed softly.

"Different? That’s what you’re leading with?" His eyes narrowed, hurt simmering just beneath the surface. "So now I’m the ‘different’ one? Funny, ‘cause that didn’t seem to be a good thing a few hours ago."

Nick faltered, his face flushing as he realized his words weren’t coming out the way he intended. He tried again, tripping over his explanation.

"No, no, I... I didn’t mean it like that. I just-"

Chris took a deep, shaky breath, his gaze lowered as he avoided Nick and Matt's eyes, interrupting Nick.

"Look, I want to apologize, alright?" He started, his voice barely more than a murmur, thick with emotion. "I know it was all my fault and that I’m a lot to handle. I get it. I can be too loud, too... everything, really. And I know I’m not like you guys. I’ve tried so hard to be, but it’s just... not me." His words hung heavy in the room, his fingers twisting anxiously in his lap. "I feel like sometimes I just ruin things because I don’t know how to turn it off. You two seem to have this balance, you know when to joke and when to be serious, and I’m over here just... always pushing things too far."

He exhaled deeply, finally lifting his eyes to meet his brothers', the weight of insecurity and years of self-doubt written all over his face.

"I’m sorry if it feels like you have to put up with me. I’ve tried to be more like you, but it’s never enough. And sometimes... it just feels like who I am isn’t what anyone wants." His voice cracked at the last words, his vulnerability laid bare, and he quickly looked away, bracing himself for whatever they would say.

Nick and Matt shared a look, each seeing the guilt mirrored in the other’s eyes as Chris’s words sank in, cutting through them like a blade.

Matt felt his chest tighten, a pang of regret settling heavily in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. How could he have let Chris - his little brother, the boy who was always loving him no matter what - believe, even for a second, that he wasn’t wanted exactly as he was?

His legs moved on instinct, carrying him back into the room before he even registered it, straight to Chris, who looked so small and hurt, slumped at the edge of the bed. Kneeling down, Matt reached out, placing a steadying hand on Chris’s knee, his fingers gently pressing into his brother’s skin as if trying to ground him.

"Chris, you’re our little brother. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much for us." He swallowed, his voice wavering as he continued, willing Chris to see and feel every word. "I love you, man. We love you for who you are. You don’t need to change a thing. It’s your energy, your spark that makes everything better. You have this way of bringing life into everything, and that’s something I wouldn’t change for anything." He looked into Chris’s eyes, his own gaze filled with a raw honesty. "We need you to be you, Chris. No one else."

Nick’s heart clenched as he watched, his own guilt building with every second. Gaining control over the hurt and regret flooding him, he crossed the room in long strides, dropping down beside Matt. He looked up at Chris, his throat tight with emotion, the sight of his little brother so closed-off, so wounded, cutting deep. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him.

"Yeah... you being another person? That’s not what we want at all. We’ve never wanted you to be anyone else. You’re perfect the way you are, Chris." Nick’s voice shook, filled with a determination to make Chris understand the truth, to undo every careless word he and Matt had thrown his way earlier. "I'm so, so sorry that we said all of those things and made you think so bad about yourself."

Chris’s defenses wavered, his resolve crumbling as he glanced between his brothers. Their sincerity seeped through, but doubt still clouded his gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, loosening his grip on his hoodie just a bit.

"You promise?" His voice was barely a whisper, fragile and laced with uncertainty, his fingers twisting anxiously into the fabric of his sleeve.

Without hesitation, Nick reached forward, taking Chris’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing firmly.

"We promise. We love how wild you are, how you’re always the one bringing the energy. You’re louder, sure, but that’s not something bad, it's exactly what makes you, you. You’re the happiest out of the three of us, Chris, and we wouldn’t change that for anything." He gave Chris’s hand another reassuring squeeze, feeling the smallest hint of relief when he saw the younger brother begin to relax, if only slightly.

Matt nodded, adding gently.

"And hey, I don’t think we need to be professional or act in a type of way for our videos to be good. The viewers love us for who we are... the mix of chaos and calm. That’s what makes us, us. It’s why they stick around."

Chris took a shaky breath, letting their words settle over him, feeling the weight of them begin to ease some of the pain. Slowly, he nodded, his fingers curling back around Nick’s reassuring grip.

"Okay."

Matt leaned forward, placing a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

"We’ll do better, alright? We’re brothers. We’re gonna mess up, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have each other’s backs. Always."

Chris exhaled deeply, finally letting the tension melt away as he leaned into their touch, the comfort of his brothers grounding him in a way only they could. Straightening himself, he managed a small, tired smile, his heart feeling a bit lighter.

"Yeah... always."

"Well, I’m really glad you guys are okay again." Y/N’s soft voice broke the silence, bringing all three heads up in surprise.

She moved with a quiet strength as she sat up and brushed her hand tenderly through Chris’s hair, watching his face light up as he realized she’d been awake all along.

"But just so we’re clear... if either of you hurt my baby like that again, you’re going to have to answer to me." She turned her gaze to Nick and Matt, a playful but fierce glint in her eyes.

"Y/N..." Chris dragged the last letter of her name in a whining tone, feeling flustered with how she called him 'her baby' in front of his brothers - even though they were more than accustomed with it.

Nick’s eyes widened jokingly with her threat, a chuckle escaping him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, glancing at Matt as if to say, 'Well, we better watch out'. Matt nodded, eyes a bit sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.

"Alright, alright, no more ganging up on Chris. You have our word, Y/N."

Content with their promises, Y/N turned her attention back to Chris, opening her arms and pulling him into her embrace once more. He let out a soft sigh, sinking into her warmth, his head nestled against her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, fingers tracing soothing circles along his back as she whispered.

"I told you they didn't mean it." He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him, the last bits of hurt melting away.

Nick and Matt watched the two of them, a fondness softening their expressions.

"You know." She murmured, pulling Chris's head away from her chest and looking at him with a mischievous grin. "You’re pretty lucky to have all of us wrapped around your finger."

Chris laughed, a real laugh this time, the sound full of relief and love.

"Yeah, I know. I just... I guess I forget sometimes."

"Well." Nick started, squeezing Chris’s shoulder with a grin. "We’re not going anywhere. So next time, just remind us if we’re being idiots, alright?"

Chris nodded, glancing gratefully at each of them, feeling more grounded and cherished than he had in a long time.

[sapphire--bitch]

Uhh, Hello? Hello?

Uh, well, if you’re hearing this and you made it to day two, uh, congrats! I-I won’t talk quite as long this time, since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Uh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk, just to make sure everyone’s in their proper place. You know. Uh, interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn’t come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so, hey, I guess that’s one more reason not to run out of power, right?

I-I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights. Uh, there are blind spots in your camera views, and those blind spots happen to be right outside your doors. So if you can’t find something – or someone – on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react. Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I’m not implying that.

Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that, he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn’t like being watched. I don’t know.

Uh, anyway, I’m sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon!

To test tumblr’s reading comprehension…

you can do ANYTHING to this post, reblog, add polls, start a fuckin roleplay in the notes, like it, I don’t give a shit.

BUT

you can’t add tags

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A dark figure stands above you, startling you awake. You squeak as the seat belt snaps back and recoils to your shoulder. You untangle yourself frantically and shield yourself with your hand. 

“Ah, what--” 

“You’re awake. I thought you...knocked out again,” Steve stands straight and grips the car door. 

“I fell asleep,” you say. “I...” you pause and look around. It’s getting dark out. “Where are we?” You raise your hands before he can answer, “wait, wait, wait. Only tell me if it won’t get me killed.” 

“How many times—I don’t just go around offing people.” 

No, you just beat them up until they can’t think. You don’t say it out loud and you’re happy it’s dark enough to conceal your expression. You shrug and turn your legs out. 

“Of course not,” you agree. 

“Hotel,” he answers bluntly. “Take the night then we’ll get to where we need to be tomorrow.” 

“Right,” you slide slowly forward and plant your feet. He drags his hand down the door and backs up, giving you enough space to stand. “Ah, after that drive, I could definitely stretch out. Maybe a hot shower.” You catch yourself. “I’m sure you don’t care though.” 

“It’s fine,” he waits for you to get out of the way before he swings the car door shut. You hesitate. You don’t have any luggage with you. Hm. Well, bridges to cross ahead of you. 

You walk silently inside. He approaches the counter and pulls out a stack of bills. You just watch him, unsure what else to do. 

“Should be enough for the deposit,” he says. 

The man behind the counter accepts it and hands over a key. It’s a small place. One of those roadside motels. It reminds you of an 80s horror movie. You hate scary movies. 

“Uh, just the one,” you say as he takes the key. He stops and looks at it. 

“Come on,” he demands. 

You don’t argue. You go back inside and he marches to the stairs at the other side of the motel. You climb behind him. As you get to the top he turns back to you. 

“One room is easier to secure. It’s safer,” he explains. 

“Oh, okay. Is someone following us?” You wonder. 

“You never know. No more questions. Let’s go. I’m tired,” he insists. 

“Same,” you agree. 

You dread the awkwardness to come but you’re too worn out to resist. It’s not just the long day of work then driving, it’s all that fainting. You forgot how awful that is. 

He unlocks the door and lets you in ahead of him. He flips the lights on and you examine the tight space. A bed, night tables, a box TV, a small coffee bar with packets of instant and cheap tea bags.  

You go back to the bed and test the firmness with your hand. Rogers removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack in the corner. He tilts his head one way than the other, cracking his neck loudly. He nears the bed and sits on the foot of it with a sigh.  

He bends his head forward and reaches to knead his shoulders. You don’t envy the hours of driving, but maybe you could have offered to drive. You look down, searching for a distraction. The close confines can’t help the strange tension. 

There’s a button on the bed frame. Off, low, high. You flip it and the bed shakes, eliciting a grunt from the man on it. He stands in surprise. You quickly turn the vibration off. 

“Oops,” you fold your hands sheepishly. “I thought it was a light or something.” 

He blinks as his eyes scour the bed. He looks at you and puts his hands on his hips. “You need a shower or something?” 

“Ummm,” you look over your shoulder at the dark doorway, “you know, I think I’m just going to lay down. I’m beat. Early to bed, early to rise.” 

He gives you another look, as if you’re speaking a different language. You get nervous and you just say stuff. Besides, your rambling is better than the silence and he isn’t offering much. 

“Hm,” he grumbles. 

He strides away from the bed and goes into the bathroom. The light illuminates him in a yellow glare before he shuts the door. You face the bed and roll your shoulders. 

You leave your shoes by the night table and roll off your stockings. You massage your arches then untuck your blouse. You hang it and return to the bed. You remain only in your camisole and skirt. 

You grab the remote and flick on the television. The shower buzzes loudly as the pipes whine. The walls are thin. You can hear the water slaking onto the tile. Even the low groans of the man steaming up the small space. 

You shuffle through the channels and don’t find much of interest. You leave it on the kids’ channel when nothing else catches your interest. You close your eyes, listening as you curl up under the blankets. 

The bathroom opens and you feel the cloud of damp heat escape. You listen to Rogers move around. He’s right on the other side of the bed. 

“What is this?” He asks. 

You roll over and open your eyes. You nearly gasp at the sight of him. He wears only a towel on his waist. His thick torso is corded in muscle and hair. You force your eyes to his face. His beard and hair are soft with moisture. You shift and lay back on the pillow. 

“The Little Mermaid. There’s nothing else on.” 

“Mm,” he hums as he combs his fingers through his hair, then drags his hands across his beard. He turns and sits, bend a leg across the mattress as his other hangs to the floor. “Isn’t it for children?” 

“I saw it when I was a children,” you say. “It’s not bad.” 

He watches silently. You can’t see his full expression but his profile appears slightly perplexed. You sit up and put the remote next to him.  

“You could put something on. Maybe they have HBO. I heard The Sopranos is good.” He slowly looks over his shoulder at you. You blanch, “joke. Sorry.” 

He reaches for the remote and turns away. You stare at this back and all the muscles in it. There’s a tattoo of three stars between his shoulder blades. Ouch. 

“You can watch it,” he allows as he puts the remote on the table.  

He lifts himself up and folds back the blanket. He slips his legs beneath and pulls it up to his waist. You focus on the TV as you try to ignore him. He’s almost naked right beside you. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“Cool,” you say. Why do you feel like fainting again? 

[bomber-grl]

Taking care of you when you’re sick 🤧

Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!sick!Reader (except for Reyna’s)

Character(s): Percy, Annabeth, Grover,Nico, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Jason, Piper, Reyna (platonic)

Me rn:

Percy Jackson

Honestly great at it and it’s honestly not expected but also sort of expected

Hard to explain

But it’s likely that he just brings you back to the apartment he lives in with sally, Paul, and ofc Estelle because even though he sort of doesn’t want to admit it, he needs help

So (imagining you’re super sick) even if you’re a stubborn one, it’s too embarrassing to act up in front of Sally

Someone who is so caring that she makes soup just for you, checks in on you, gives you extra blankets in case, honestly anything really

This transformed more into a Sally taking care of you than Percy but I’m getting there

One day Sally has to go out for an errand and takes Estelle with her, Paul went off to work or something

Leaving you two alone and you basically a burden/j

Also… free to complain all you want

Now if you’re stubborn and make it difficult for him he will fr mock you

Literally why are you being this way when Estelle behaves way better

And she’s a baby

Eventually though, cmon now

Just be willing and maybe he’ll kiss you

As if he isn’t doing so while you doze off on your meds

I’d give him a solid 6/10, not because he’s not my fav character or anything

Of course not

Annabeth Chase

Ideal in theory not in practice

She knows everything there is to know- hell, if she didn’t after years of being a demigod and suffering from injuries then strike me down

Well- no actually I take that back

Annabeth doesn’t actually know a lot aside from when she gets sick

Which happens rarely and goes away as quick as it comes

So now she’s here with you all bundled up-

Also, if you try to be stubborn and act like a big baby, she’s having none of it

You will rest and you will eat to consume your meds

End of story

I don’t make the rules 😭

She will, however, be pleased if you’re happy to comply and get you back to good asap

Although she does bumble a bit at the start- she eventually learns quickly

Which is to be expected

When she first started to struggle with what do to she’s too prideful to ask for help so she settles on asking you how to do well by you

Then she realizes how stupid (or unwise) it was to act that way and decides to just ask any of the Apollo kids she knows won’t tease her

Which is more than half

Only because she knew you’d get worse

I’d give her a solid 7/10

It’s not any longer because she gets to business and gets you healed pretty quick so 🤷

Grover Underwood

I’d say he’s pretty decent at taking care of you too

I mean he probably knows a lot about herbs and stuff that could help you alongside modern medicine that you’re likely taking

Plus when you can’t sleep for whatever reason (*cough*cough* congestion*cough*) he’ll obviously put that humidifier on but also play you a song

Either to help with sleep or just make you feel better

Really depends

Also we all know he’s a saytr

So he’s likely taking care of you despite needing to be elsewhere

And if that duty calls quickly? He feels SO bad 😭 I’m not even exaggerating

He’ll apologize ten times over and try to make up for it

Instead of getting your sleep and rest it just results in you spending that time reassuring Grover

Which, in your opinion, is a time well spent

But not to Grover

Anyways if you’re reluctant to let him take care of you then he’s constantly hassling you to stay resting

Literally got to the point where campers would just see you running by, and see Grover not too behind

Or it’d be you sitting somewhere and Grover trying to convince you why going back would be a good idea

Now, if you’re more than happy to rest and take your medicine?

Absolute angel in Grover’s eyes

Literally makes his life 10000x easier

Him being him, he just ends up helping you heal and recover faster than you normally would’ve otherwise

So honestly? You can try to be stubborn all you want but it’s only going to make you suffer 😭

Not much for him but that’s because besides his nervous energy, he’s probably the best here in terms of actually helping you become unsick

Nico Di Angelo

He’ll try his best to help you out 😭

Which he does a pretty decent job at, all he does is rely on books and what he’s heard from others

So it’s time for Nico to rawdog helping you out because frankly, he’s always been the opposite of a normal person

So, why would he ever get sick?

(Bluds body temperature is probably colder than the Antarctic)

He does the basics like making you drink medicine for your symptoms (e.g. cough, sore throat) and making you soup to the best of his capabilities

If you’re the type of person to be whiny and like to be cared after then he’d sort of tease you for it in his strange little way

Now, if you’re super stubborn and insist on him not helping you-

He takes it personally

Like I’m not even joking

He’ll just side eye you

You’re acting like you weren’t just dying of suffocation before he put the humidifier on a few seconds ago

And he lets that known

So, he asks why you’re being so stubborn and let him spoon feed you‼️

(Only because you ended up being bundled in a blanket burrito and Nico didn’t want to go through putting you in one again afterwards)

Too much hassle

Also applies if you’re being stubborn and he has to forcibly feed you)

He’s honestly getting annoyed at this point so you give him a proposition

You’ll let him take care of you if he gives you cuddles

Now, normally Nico would be so done but he couldn’t resist

So now here you both are underneath the covers

But then Nico ruins it

“Yknow I was gonna cuddle you regardless” (of it you complied or not)

6/10 just for that last comment

(Doing an actual story, will link HERE)

Leo Valdez

Someone please help him

Nah just kidding

Leo is definitely way better with machines than with humans

That’s a fact

But he knew his mom long enough to know the basics of everything

I don’t make the rules, that woman definitely taught him everything there is to know

So here you are on the bed of your room as you hear Leo’s racket going on in the kitchen

Emmie and Jo went out and took a few residents with them, including one of your favorite residents:

Georgina

The ones that stayed behind were either asleep or bundled away under the covers of their beds

(Ignoring those doing chores)

Especially since it was now winter, despite the waystations warmth, a chill seemed to have made it way inside.

Eventually Leo makes his way back up and set down a tray

It had a soup you learned to become familiar with

It was Caldo de Res

So obviously you gobbled that shit up like all the other Mexican foods Leo had made before

Eventually Leo makes you take your medicine because even though he’s all about playing around and stuff, he still likes to care for you

Now, because it’s likely snowing, Leo had to resist and refuse to let you out

You’re already sick, it could get so much worse

But you didn’t listen

Hence you running around like a maniac outside the station yelling as Leo chases you

Afterwards he scolds you but when you point out that fact that he was laughing when he was chasing after you- he shuts up real quick

Leo does realize how boring it probably is for you though so after going back inside he tries to be a source of entertainment for you

He tries to find board games and he luckily does

Which ends with you two moving to the living room (?) or common area

By the time emmie and the other residents return, the tower you built while playing Jenga was sky high and skinny asf

Then Leo crashed it and you both obviously yelled at it

Then Leo got told off for distracting you from resting (although it was done kindly)

Later after dinner, Leo snuck into your room at night and once again began to try to rid you of your boredom

you two began giggling and gossiping in the middle of the night

Then went to bed when someone knocked as kindly asked for you two to quiet down

Leo was embarrassed 💀

Frank Zhang

Surprisingly good at taking care of you

Only saying it’s surprising because I’ve never considered it before

He obviously takes care of your basic needs like meds and just covers you needing anything else like rest or water

If you’re stubborn to actually try to get better- then he’s definitely worried but also confused

Why are you acting this way and also, please just let him help you

Which is honestly sad because even if he’d like to stay by your side for more than a few hours- he really isn’t able to due to praetor duties

I mean it’s a surprise you got a pass on your chores/ duties depending on what your role is

Will definitely feel terrible for having to leave to go do his job but eventually finds someone trusted to look after you

Likely someone indebted to him

(He’d feel a bit sorry for whoever it is if you’re particularly resistful)

Let’s say you actually get sick and there’s no outside forces that can interfere

Frank is a pretty top notch- although a bit anxious - doctor

Likely learned a lot about the healing aspect of Apollo back when being his kid was what Frank wanted most

So he knows a lot from that and is really attentive

After giving you some medicine you had seemingly been knocked out cold so it was natural for Frank to turn down the lights

Before he left the room he decided to give you a kiss on the cheek

You were actually still awake and despite your boyfriends more than accommodating care-

You will be teasing him tomorrow using this instance

Overall I’d give Frank a 9/10

‘He is the worlds most perfect man’

Hazel Levesque

Have you seen her lead the other Roman’s as praetor and even before then ? Yea she’s getting you bundled up and fed

No ifs or buts

This is how she is overall but if you try being stubborn she genuinely doesn’t see why you would be

Like why wouldn’t you want to get better??

Also please don’t sneak out to the weaponry or something because she literally CANT give you special treatment 😭

Despite her seemingly tough demeanor, she really is a fool for you

Not actually- but miss girl is smitten with you

So she sort of takes it easy, occasionally finding her voice and scolding you as lightly as she can

She tries her best to treat you but eventually gets advice and help from others in camp who know more than she does

She ofc knows the basics: consume vitamin c, rest, drink medicine, etc

But she can’t be too sure

I also honestly think she’s way better than Nico, because I didn’t include it but he definitely got some wayward damned spirit to help him out

But not her

Not that that’s bad, but she’s definitely more capable

I do think she bumbled a bit

She had ordered some other campers who specialized in healing to help her out

Before then, she had been taking care of you herself

So when they get there and see her sort of make shift stuff- she’s a bit embarrassed

Yknow, if the blush on her cheeks are anything to go by

Because we’ve already established that she’s better than Nico, I’ll give her a 8/10

Because she’s really good at taking care of you, really caring overall

But 🤷

Jason Grace

Best way to say how he is at taking care of you is mediocre

He isn’t constantly attentive but just the right amount that you feel like it’s enough

Esprit he’s busy with the school he’s attending- then he’ll have to sneak out just to see you and take care of you

If school isn’t in session then he’s more than happy to go over and take care of things for you

Like doing chores, cooking food and actually taking care of you

Doesn’t mind all that much if you try to resist being treated because it’s likely that he’s encountered people who are WAY worse

Ik this is him supposed to be taking care of you but I think it’d be so funny that you’re just constantly in and out of consciousness that you only remember small snippets

In which Jason has to fill in for you and all you remember is Jason in the distance

Pretty out of place but the idea of it is so funny to me 😭

Imagine being so kind and your s/o not remembering any of it

You’d still believe him though, why should you?

Also I said it’s mid but like mid leaning good so I’ll give him a 6/10

Not that he was terrible or anything but just because I feel like it suits him

Idk 😭

Piper Mcclean

THE BEST IM NOT EXAGGERATING

The medicine- eating- cooking part is alright

It isn’t much different from the others averages and not much to take note of in all honesty

But what is really the cherry on top is when after having a mind splitting headache- you’ve finally managed to fall asleep

Being a demigod and all- you immediately hear when Piper enters the room

Each creak the floor board gives continued until Piper has reached the end of the bed

Not that it’s disturbing you in anyway

So there you are snuggled in bed and you feel a weight added next to you where the bed is pushing down

You feel hands massaging your scalp and Piper -knowing how you’ve suffered with head pain- starts to sing for you

It isn’t unknown or unheard of to sing for someone to heal (demigod or non demigod wise)

So when you immediately start to feel better you can feel your would ascending into the heavens

Not actually- because that’d be the opposite affect of the singing but you get what I’m going for

Anyway aside from that she’s really attentive and sweet but I just had that idea come to me strongly idk why

Overall id rate her a 7/10

That’s because her singing is divine but her caring aspect is mediocre

Reyna Ramírez-Arellano x F!Reader (for the first half)

Literally legendary at taking care of you

Although she is a bit of a dictator when it comes to you being slippery and running off- it’s still pretty great

She was praetor for how long now? Yea a while so she was bound to have learned some things and after joing the hunters it’s only more reason to

Which if you’re a hunter and sick (only confusing but let’s go with it) you need to get your health back up to be in optimal fighting condition so theres literally no room for being stubborn

You need to get well soon and that’s an order basically

So Reyna will bundle you up, (though seeing as you’re more than happy to be cooperative) its only done to make you warm

(Gn! Reader but still platonic)

Now if this is while Reyna is praetor then she’s still enforced this strict persona

And seeing as she’s here taking care of you-

That’s only more reason to

Unfortunately she won’t really have time (seeing that being praetor is really unsustainable long term with the loss of sleep and sleep schedule changes)

But when she does her presence is soothing and likely the only reason you were able to actually get well pretty fast

I don’t have much besides she knows what she’s doing (likely has gotten stupid colds form stress) and is really serious about it

Would give her a 9.5/10 but I’ll change it to a 10/10 because of how fast you recover

-

A/n: req was originally only asking for Nico but I said why not do the other 9

[atlabeth]

i crumble completely (when you cry)

pairing: sebastian sallow x fem ravenclaw reader

summary: there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

a/n: hogwarts legacy was 70% off, i bought it and it's good but not good enough in all the ways that matter so im fixing it for myself. no i dont know why this is where my inspo is when i have so much unfinished stuff but just go with it

wc: 2.1k

warning(s): angst but hurt/comfort angst! a more in depth scriptorium scene so crucio is used but this is from seb's pov so lighter descriptions of all that fun stuff

“Ominis, you have to.”

“I’m not doing it!” he exclaimed. “What do you not get?”

“Would you rather die here?” Sebastian spat. “Because if you don’t, that’s what will happen. And I’ve become rather fond of my life over these past few minutes.” 

“I refuse to use dark magic,” Ominis seethed. “You of all people should understand, Sebastian!” 

“I don’t understand why you’d let us die instead of casting one spell!”

He barked an incredulous laugh. “It is not just one spell! God, you—”

“Can you do it?” 

Sebastian’s anger faltered for a moment when you spoke up, and he frowned when he saw you were looking at him. “What?” 

“Can you do it?” you repeated. “Can you cast the curse?” 

“I—” His mouth fell open and shut as he looked between you and Ominis, before they finally settled on you. “—I think so. Not well, but—”

“Then you can do it,” you said. “Cast it on me, and we’ll be out of this mess.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he said your name in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

You stared at him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ominis cut in. “I know what it feels like—you’re not putting yourself through that. We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way.” You gestured at the letters on the ground, his aunt’s last mark on the world. “You’ve got the answer right here, and a willing victim. What are you waiting for?”

Sebastian grimaced. “Calling yourself a victim isn’t helping.”

“The only reason you’re willing is because you don’t know what you’re signing up for.” Ominis’s blank gaze pointed at the ground, but his sharp words hit you all the same. “It’s unimaginable, excruciating pain. Every one of your nerves exploding, your bones being crushed to dust, your blood turning to fire. You will never forget what it feels like.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the chill settling over you. “Well, it’s either that or we sit around here until we die.”

“Even if he wanted to—”

“Which I don’t!” Sebastian cut in. 

“He would have to really mean it,” Ominis finished. 

“Again, which I don’t!” he exclaimed. 

“That just means it won’t hurt as much,” you said. “Should take away some of your reservations.”

Sebastian huffed. “There is something wrong with you.”

“And you were all for this when it would be Ominis casting it on me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I— I figured he would cast it on me!” His eyes widened. “I— I could teach it to you, and you could cast it on me!”

“Will the two of you stop bickering?” Ominis asked. “It’s not making this any better.” 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Sebastian will cast the Cruciatus Curse on me, and we’ll be out of here. Okay?” 

Sebastian stared at you, your steely gaze having already met his. You’d always been stubborn, unyielding—he’d known it since you bested him in a duel in your first ever meeting. 

Ravenclaw hardheadedness, he figured. Always assuming you knew best (you usually did), that you were right (you usually were), that you could handle whatever ended up in your path (you usually could). 

And here you were, standing right in front of him, those determined eyes unwavering as you practically begged him to cast an Unforgivable Curse on you. 

Did you know that he wasn’t even sure he could cast it on you? Not just because it was near unthinkable, but because he had no idea if he could scrounge up enough ill will towards you to even partially want to hurt you. 

Did you know that you were the reason he’d started doing better in classes? That, no matter how much he complained about your study sessions together, that he could have been doing something much more productive, he treasured every moment with you? 

Did you even know that the mere thought of causing you pain made him want to retch? That, yes, he may very well choose death over imparting the torture curse on you? 

Did you even know how he felt about you? 

Sebastian pulled his wand out his robes, his grip tightening in an effort to stop his hand from shaking. “You’re sure about this.” 

You nodded. “It won’t leave any physical wounds. It’ll be over sooner than you know it.” 

He huffed as he glanced away. “You shouldn’t be the one reassuring me.” 

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged. “Just… buy me a pint of butterbeer when we get out of here. Then we’ll be square.” 

“You’re not exactly aiming high,” Sebastian said wryly. 

You smiled. “My mum always told me it was the simple things. Now, do it before I lose my nerve.” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, once, twice, three times as he adjusted his hold on his wand. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember the wand movement, but instead, he saw your face. 

The first time he met you, when you embarrassed him in front of the whole class by beating him ina duel. When you asked him to take you to Hogsmeade for the first time, and you ended up taking down a troll—how beautiful you looked with the glow of exertion beneath your skin, when you turned to him with the widest (and maybe first) smile he’d ever seen from you in the wake of your efforts. 

How could he do something like this to you?

He pushed the doubt down. There was no other way. You wanted him to do it—wanted him to save them all from a very boring, very preventable death. 

Something in the scriptorium could save Anne. That was worth anything. 

Sebastian took in a deep breath. He brought forth every negative thought—the goblin that cursed his sister, his housemates that believed in nothing but blood purity, his uncle that refused to believe in him, refused to even try to save Anne. 

None of it to do with you, who had done nothing but support him since you helped him up from the ground after pummeling him into it, but he tried to project it onto you anyways. 

He raised his wand. 

He opened his eyes—your gaze hadn’t moved. They showed no fear, no anger, no emotion at all but steely determination. 

“Crucio!” 

Red light arced from his wand to your body. You crumpled to your knees the instant the spell reached you, skull-splintering screams echoing throughout the small room as the curse wrapped its way around you. 

Your scarf fell from your neck, your robes pooled around you, your knees and palms scraped the stone as you tried to support yourself in any way. Your agonized wails were deafening, and Sebastian nearly lost it right then and there, nausea rising in his throat. Ominis’s blank, widened gaze fell on the wall, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep his expression even. 

You were one of the strongest people Sebastian knew. Always infallible, always so smart, so level headed in the face of his impulsivity. Naturally gifted at magic, and somehow willing to tolerate him. And he’d been forced to reduce you to this. 

But it worked. Your screams of pure torment unlocked something in Salazar Slytherin’s sick design, and the door of tortured faces pulsed with red energy before sliding into the stone. 

Sebastian rushed over the moment the door started to open, his wand falling from his grasp in his haste and his eyes wide with fear and concern. He went to touch you, but stopped just before he could—he didn’t want to hurt you more. Your entire body rose and fell with your beleaguered breaths as you rolled on your side, your every movement labored. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I— I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t respond, the pain still arcing its way through your body despite the curse being done. You inhaled sharply as your eyes screwed shut, and you nodded. 

“You’re clearly not okay.” The slight waver in Ominis’s voice betrayed his unaffected stature. “That was remarkably stupid.”

“Ominis—” Sebastian started, but you shook your head. 

“It worked,” you interrupted as you lifted a shaky hand to point at the now revealed scriptorium. “Couldn’t… couldn’t be too stupid… could it?”

“There is something wrong with you,” he whispered. You could only manage a pained laugh at his words. 

Sebastian stayed there with you as you fought through the last few convulsions—he said nothing when you grabbed his hand, bit back his wince when you squeezed tighter than a vice. After what you just went through, he could bear something so small. 

Your breathing was still labored when he finally helped you up. Your legs nearly collapsed beneath you, but he kept you upright. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, desperate to reassure you. “You— you’re okay.”

“I told you I would be,” you said. 

“You did,” he conceded. “I keep forgetting you’re always right.” 

He got the slightest smile from you at that. Sebastian glanced over when he heard footsteps, and he saw Ominis approaching. His whole body still held a tenseness, but he was sure it was for a different reason this time. 

“…You took that well,” he finally said, and he held out your scarf. 

Again, another laugh and another wince. “I really didn’t. But thank you.” 

You reached for the scarf, but Sebastian got to it first. He gently draped it around your neck, taking special care to keep the Ravenclaw emblem in the front. You had a lot of pride in your house. 

“How’s that?” he asked softly. 

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Thank you.” 

He nodded too, and Ominis cleared his throat. Sebastian turned back to him, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. Ominis held his wand, and he took it back before shoving it back into his robes. Casting any sort of spell felt dirtied right now. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I… I’m sorry about all this.” 

“…Thank you,” Ominis echoed. “Let’s just get out of here before any more of Slytherin’s tricks find us.” 

“No arguments here,” you mumbled. 

Ominis walked in, and though your eyes followed him, you lingered back with Sebastian. He still supported you, one of his arms interlocked with yours. A part of him was worried that you would collapse again the second he stepped away. He could feel your chilled skin even through your robes—no wonder you always wore your scarf. You ran colder than a mermaid. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said quietly. 

“You already said that.” 

“Because it’s true,” he said. “These curses are unforgivable for a reason. You never should have had to go through this.” 

“Well, I forgive you,” you said. “We had no choice, and I asked you to do it. And,” you gave him a wry look, “it didn’t hurt that much, so you clearly didn’t mean it.” 

He couldn’t even laugh at that—he kept hearing your piercing screams, agony beyond all reason. He would surely hear them for weeks to come in his sleep, see your prone form every time he closed his eyes. 

He felt you nudge him in the side. “Hey. Perk up. I’m okay. Besides,” you gave him a sideways smile, “Rowena would be proud. Anything in the name of knowledge, eh?” 

That got the slightest of smiles out of him, and he shook his head. “There’s—” 

“Something wrong with me, I know. That’s the third time today.” You tilted your head towards the scriptorium. “Now, shall we get what we suffered for?” 

Sebastian nodded, and the two of you walked in, him still supporting you. Ominis had already made his way up the stairs—he really did want to get out as soon as possible. You had your wand in your free hand and had already murmured a quick Revelio, eyes darting around in an effort to unearth any secrets. 

“That brain of yours never stops, does it?” 

Your lips quirked. “Never.” 

Another beat of silence as you searched the alcoves together. He couldn’t help but watch you—you were a Ravenclaw in her natural habitat. Your brow creased just so, your pretty features honed to a single point of focus, cycling through all your thoughts at breakneck speed despite what you just went through. It made his heart swell with something he couldn’t quite name, right beside a gnawing hole filled with guilt.  

“I really do owe you a pint,” Sebastian murmured.  

You laughed. Lighter, this time, and with only the slightest grimace. “Make that two.” 

A smile crossed his lips without him even thinking. Sebastian was so glad he had you in his life—he was only sorry he had to wait until fifth year. 

“Deal.”

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Suppressants, Numbness, Social Event, Reunions, Jealousy, Nesting

Words: 3K

Chapter Nine

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Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“I don’t feel any different…”

You’ve been taking suppressants for a few days now, but there wasn’t really any change. You were starting to think Chan lied to you, that the supposed suppressants were some sort of placebo pill. So you brought it up to him, rather face the situation head on than just try to figure out what was going on. Your words made Chan chuckle, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“The effects won’t happen right away. They’re gradual, and not feeling anything is kinda the goal.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to be suppressing your nature, so your senses are gonna be numbed up. You certainly won’t feel things the same way you do now.”

“Oh…”

“Give it some more time, and see how you feel. You can always stop too, just let me know.”

“Alright.”

Another week goes by before things actually change, both for your physical state and your education. You were back in class now, although you were in new ones. In each of your classes you had one of the alphas with you, and sometimes either Jisung, Felix, or both, were there too. You honestly thought these co-ed classes would be very different, but they were similar to what you had been dealing with before. It kinda felt like normal, as if nothing really drastic had changed while you were gone.

You honestly had been dreading returning to class for fear of being bombarded with unwanted attention and questions, but you really didn’t get any of that. Your peers in the class were different, the atmosphere itself was not like before too. In these co-ed classes there was an air of seriousness that’s not entirely present in the omega classes. Thinking about it now, it made sense, the alphas here were serious, and such things would rub off on the omegas even if they didn’t realize. Besides not drawing much attention, the other alphas didn’t really let you socialize. They still had their own classes, so there wasn’t much time to mingle as they had to hand you off to your next classmate and be on their way.

Being surrounded by a lot of people once more, it certainly pushed you back towards Jisung and Felix. Communication with them had been practically non-existent lately, as you still felt hurt, but now with classes it felt natural to talk. At first it was mostly about assignments and a short exchange of words, but slowly you opened up to them again. Despite everything they were still your friends, and they understood you better than the alphas. Things were certainly getting back to normal for you and you didn’t really realize why until a particular night. You were alone in the living room, doing some late night studying. As far as you knew the others were asleep, but all of a sudden there was someone peeking over your shoulder.

“Whatcha working on?”

You screamed and moved away, very startled. Jeongin was quickly apologizing and backing away, not wanting to make matters worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Why did you sneak up on me!”

“I didn’t! I thought you heard me, or at least smelled me.”

“Well I didn’t!”

“Huh?”

“I… wait… I didn’t… how come I didn’t…”

Your screaming had of course woken the others, and soon enough you had half-asleep alphas and omegas piling into the living room.

“What happened!?” Changbin asked. “Is everyone okay!?”

“I’m fine.” Jeongin answered. “I just scared y/n, by accident.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t smell him.” You mumbled. “Or heard him…”

“That’s the suppressants.” Chan explained. “I told you your senses were going to get dull. I guess you haven’t realized until now. Even your own scent isn’t as prevalent. There’s not really any of it left in the dorm now.”

“Oh…”

“Since we’re all here, let’s make a note of this and be careful with y/n. You shouldn’t have been sneaking around anyway, Jeongin.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You’re okay though, right y/n?” Seungmin asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just caught off guard. You can all go back to bed.”

The boys slowly scattered, returning to their rooms, although Minho lingered for a while more. He noticed you were still processing what you had just learned.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to talk?”

“There’s not much to talk about. It’s the suppressants.”

“Yeah, but how do you feel?”

“Uh… well honestly… I feel kinda sick… but I’m not, right?”

“No. Using suppressants isn’t unheard of. It may be a bit unnatural, but it’s not a major detriment to your health. You’re fine.”

“I guess so.”

Minho didn’t leave until he was sure you’d be alright. You stayed with your own thoughts for a while longer before deciding to head to bed. You weren’t gonna get any work done after all this. You ended up lying in bed for a while before you actually managed to sleep. Come morning you realized there wasn’t much different about you, especially when compared to your last few days. You got out of bed and prepared for class like normal. As you stepped out of your room you found Felix at the dining table having breakfast. You noticed his sweater draped over the chair next to him and without asking you grabbed it and held it up to your nose. You took in a deep breath, but only got a faint whiff of Felix’s scent.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing something out… I really can’t pick up on your scent…”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s very faint. No wonder Jeongin snuck up on me.”

Felix reached over and pulled you close, grabbing a piece of shirt and smelling it. After a moment he shook his head.

“I smell more laundry detergent than you.”

“Huh. You’re okay though right, you’re not sick.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Felix assured. “Guess you’re like a ninja now too. You could easily sneak up on us if you wanted to.”

“Yeah… like I’m invisible…”

That revelation began to explain the lack of attention on you. Sure, in   classes a bunch of scents mingled but yours practically didn’t exist. There wasn’t anything appealing about you, so your peers left you alone. Some might expect you to be a bit sad over this, but you were actually quite pleased. In a way, you didn’t have to worry about everyone else. You could just exist among them in peace. It also explained why you had been a lot more at ease in the dorm and classes. You couldn’t pick up on all the scents of the alphas around you, so naturally you weren’t tense or afraid. You were okay.

Of course this all had a side effect of feeling a bit numb and broken, but you’d take it for helping you just get through your days. Although on occasion you’d find yourself staring out into the woods. You still wanted to know what was out there, especially now since you considered yourself to be stable. Yet you knew that running away was impossible, so it was nothing but a dream, one that was slowly fading away. You focused on just making the most of your days and enjoying your classes. Things seemed so mundane and normal until one day after class you were handed a flier for a party.

You were confused since there weren’t any co-ed dorms, and this party was open to all. Upon further examination you could see this party was hosted by the student board and was meant to be an end of the semester-type celebration. You didn’t think too much of it, big social events like that certainly weren’t for you. So for the time being you just stuffed the flier in your bag and went about your day. When you returned to the dorm later you set your things out in the living room, the flier just sticking out of your bag. You thought nothing of it until Chan came over, wanting to see what you were working on when the flier caught his attention.

“Oh, the end of the semester unwind.”

“Huh?”

“The party.” Chan showed you the flier. “You want to go?”

“Oh, that, you know a party isn’t really my thing.”

“It would be a good experience though. Not many get to go to party, so it’s cool the school board is hosting one. You wouldn’t have to worry about scents either.”

“True…”

“I heard party!” Jisung came over and took the flier from Chan. “This is awesome! We totally have to go as a pack!”

“A pack?”

“Oh, right, I meant as a dorm. It could be a great bonding experience for all of us!”

“I don’t know…”

“We should.” Felix chimed in, having overheard the convo. “It would be a lot of fun.”

“Hm…”

“Please.”

“Pretty please.” Jisung added. “It’ll be a good time.”

“Fine, but when I want to leave I will.”

“That works.”

The others in the dorm were eventually told about the party and that we would all be going together. It was nothing fancy, so you just needed to dress casually and comfortably. The boys seemed excited for the night, but you were a bit nervous. You’ve never really been to a party before. At least you didn’t have to worry about all the scents overwhelming you, or you hoped that would be the case.

“Hyunjin…”

“Hm?”

“How is it that a party like this is even allowed…?”

“It’s for the social aspect. We’re all still gonna be close or at least around each other after graduation, we should know each other better. Besides, we all need a break from classes.”

“Yeah…”

“You know you don’t have to go, if you really don’t want to.”

“I know, but I should experience this at least once.”

When you arrived at the party area you could see it had been decorated and the music playing gave it a lively atmosphere. You were nervous at first glance but once inside you could relax a bit. The scents didn’t hit you strongly and they were all mixed together you couldn’t really identify a single one. It put you at ease, and you stuck near the alphas for the most part. That was the plan as they’d know better than you what to do in such a place, but there were a lot of people and before you knew it you were lost in the crowd and separated from them. You stood  by yourself, surrounded by strangers, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n!”

You heard your name being called but you couldn’t recognize the voice. Still, you looked around for the source, not seeing anyone familiar. Although soon enough you found a boy standing before you.

“Hey.”

The boy had a simple smile on his face, happiness reflected in his eyes. You didn’t really recognize him, and he seemed to notice. Yet that did nothing to sour his mood.

“I guess it has been a while. I’m Gunil.”

“Gunil… from high school…”

“Yup. Long time not see.”

You were rather stunned by the revelation, needing a moment to process. Gunil was the alpha who had a crush on you back in high school. The year after the incident he was moved to a different class and you didn’t see him anymore, and he never approached you either. It was the least of your worries back then, and it made things easier for you in hindsight. You honestly couldn’t believe he was standing before you, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

“You… you remember me…”

“I’d never forget such a beautiful face. Let’s go talk somewhere less nosy.”

Before you could answer, Gunil took your hand and led you away from the main party. You didn’t go too far, just finding a less crowded place to talk.

“It’s really good to see you. I didn’t think I’d run into you like this.”

“The feeling is mutual…”

“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s been so many years. I should probably apologize for being such a bother to you back then. Although I was really smitten by you, still, sorry.”

“… you were polite…”

“I’m glad I wasn’t so annoying, but I have to say you’re still the prettiest omega I know.”

“… Gunil…”

Even if you felt a bit awkward, his compliments were making you shy. He noticed and tried to not make things weirder, asking if you wanted to get some drinks. You agreed and the two of you went to the drink table. You didn’t want to drink any alcohol, so you found some soda, and he got the same.

“So… uh… how have you been?”

“Good, I guess. My classes aren’t difficult.”

“Are you in co-ed or omegas only?”

“Co-ed… I get to learn more that way. What about you, what have you been up to?”

“The normal stuff for alphas, classes and training. I think I’m doing well, one of the top in my classes.”

“You always were.”

“I guess some things never change.”

“Yeah…”

“Y/n! There you are!”

You heard your name and were then yanked away from Gunil. You quickly found yourself face to face with Seungmin.

“We’ve all been so worried since you just disappeared.”

“I’m fine…”

“Yeah, I can see.” Seungmin’s gaze turned to the other. “Is he bothering you?”

“Huh? Gunil, no, he’s just an old… friend…”

“Friend? Okay, well it’s time to go.”

“What?”

Seungmin just started pulling you along, but you only moved a few steps before Gunil grabbed your other arm to hold you back.

“Wait. We should catch up sometime.” Gunil put his drink down and quickly got out a pen, writing a number on your hand. “Text me.”

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

You heard a low growl from Seungmin before he pulled Gunil’s hand off you and then led you away. For a moment you thought he’d take you back to the others, but he meant it when he said it was time to go. You left the party and made your way back to the dorm. It was just the two of you there.

“You know… you really didn’t have to do that.” You told Seungmin. “I was fine… which is also a bit surprising to me.”

“Is it?”

“Well, I wasn’t really scared… and the scents weren’t so strong that they’d affect me.”

“So you had no problem chatting up some random alpha.”

“He approached me, helped me out cause I was alone and lost. You didn’t have to drag me out.”

“… sorry… I got in my own head thinking you needed a rescue and weren’t comfortable…”

“It’s whatever. I’m tired anyway, so I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I know.”

You retreated to your room, throwing yourself on your bed. You simply laid there for a moment before looking at your palm, seeing the number on it. Without realizing it you smiled, amused at how that whole interaction went down. You put the number down in your phone before getting up to wash it off and clean yourself up. After a shower you were dressed in pajamas and drying your hair as Jisung and Felix came in. They threw themselves on your bed, and going by the smiles on their faces, they likely had a few drinks.

“I see you had a good night.”

“Absolutely.” Jisung giggled. “You shouldn’t have left so early.”

“It was fine.”

“Sorry we lost you.” Felix added. “We were looking for you until Seungmin told us he found you and took you home.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad the rest of you had fun.”

“Let’s all sleep together.” Jisung suggested. “I wanna sleep in a cuddle pile. Omegas only of course.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please, pretty please, we’d be so warm and cozy together.”

“Okay, okay, but you two gotta clean up first.”

“Yes! We can make a nest together!”

The two stuck around for a moment longer before going off to clean up. You figured you’d get a head start with the nest, getting some pillows and blankets and setting things up in the living room. A while later the boys came to join you, bringing along some more blankets and pillows. A few of the alphas noticed what you were up to, but let you do your own thing. They wished you good night as they went to bed. You guys got some snacks and turned the TV on, watching a show. This was more your thing than some big party. You all slowly drifted off, one by one, the TV acting as white noise. You all slept peacefully, you wound up waking up late into the night, hearing whimpers.

“Hm… Jisung…?”

You lazily opened your eyes, seeing Jisung at your side tossing about. He seemed to be panting a bit, showing signs of discomfort. You got up and shook him gently, trying to get him to wake up.

“Jisung… Jisung, get up…”

It wasn’t working, but you kept trying. Then your fingers brushed against exposed skin and you realized he was hot. You placed your palm against his head, realizing he was burning up. You quickly went over to Felix, shaking him awake almost immediately.

“… what…?”

“Go get the alphas, Jisung is running a fever.”

Felix was still half asleep as you ushered him to get up and go. You got back to Jisung, still trying to get him up. He opened his eyes for a moment, seeming to be out of it.

“… y/n…”

“Yeah, I’m right here. You’re gonna be-”

“Y/n, get away from him.”

You were suddenly pulled to your feet and pulled away from Jisung. You stared at Minho with confusion, but he didn’t say anything. He took you back to your room, and then you saw Felix being escorted by Changbin to your room as well.

“What’s going on? Jisung-”

“He’ll be okay.” Changbin said. “But I need you both to stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Just promise me you’ll stay here. We’ll take care of Jisung, so don’t worry.”

“You’re making us worry.” Felix mumbled. “Isn’t it just a fever…?”

“Not exactly.”

Minho sighed. “Jisung is going into heat. Obviously your senses wouldn’t really know what’s going on, especially y/n since she’s on suppressants, but that doesn’t mean he can’t trigger either of you. One omega going into heat for the first time is gonna be a handful, so for all our sakes, just stay here until morning.”

“Oh…”

[pixitarot]

bang chan as a bf

🅽🅾🆃🅴: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ

i didn’t expect some of the cards i got tbh. please take this with a grain of salt lol.

pros:

- a hopeless romantic. i think i mentioned this already in my ideal type reading but he is big on just being with that one person for the rest of his life.

- a desire to make all of his person’s wishes come true. yall know that song by big time rush “any kind of guy” i was hearing that in my head lol specifically the lyrics “any kind of guy you want girl, that’s the guy i’ll be, turn myself upside down.” corny ik, but i think he would say cheesy shit like that lol. i literally have not heard that song in a minute. basically he would do anything that his person desires. they want a dog? he’ll get one. they want to take a dance class? he’ll sign them up for one. those are just some examples

- he lovesss to spoil his partner. i honestly think gift giving could be a big love language for him. it makes him feel good seeing his partner enjoy things that he has bought them or things they have bought with his money

- he would defend his partner no matter what. he does not fuck around when it comes to the people he loves, so if someone disrespects his person, he won’t stay quiet

- he’s always keeping his promises! even with his busy schedule, he will make time for his person . i think he could even have this routine where they like go watch a movie every saturday or smth. reminds me of when he would go live every sunday lol. if he wouldn’t be make able to make it, he’ll schedule it for the next day. he will always do something to make up for it

- he’ll always keep the relationship feeling new. yk how the honeymoon phase wears off, he’ll do everything to make things more fun and romantic. he could plan so many cute dates. he would always know the right things to say. he could literally give u butterflies even 5 years of dating him just because of his smooth talk lol

cons:

- chan could be….pretty dominant. now this obviously doesn’t mean he’s gonna go crazy controlling his person. however, he’s a natural leader. he leads in his career, and it melts into his relationships as well. he likes to be the one to make the decisions. he could be stubborn in his ways so he won’t back down. it’s his way or the highway vibes

- chan can be hot headed. it seems like he would try really hard not to fight with his person, but it just never works out. he could be pretty passive aggressive when he gets mad. i’m not gonna lie i feel like he could bicker a lot with his partner.

- remember how i said he loves to spoil his partner? well he could use this to his advantage as well. chan could do/say something to upset them and he’ll spoil them as an “apology.” ik some of yall would find this a pro lol but this can cause resentment overtime. maybe he isn’t good at apologizing, but with communication from both sides, this can change.

- i think chan can be super overprotective. i could say possessive aswell, but im more so getting overprotective. it’s like he has this fear that something could happen to his partner, and this can scare him. it could be something he overthinks about a lot in relationships. it’s almost paternal like. like a father worrying about his daughter. of course, many could see this as a pro, however, it could get to the point where it becomes suffocating because it’s like…are you my father or my boyfriend? i’m seeing him lightly scold his partner for being out late lol. it’s stuff like that.

astrological dice:

leo, cancer, 6th house, 3rd house

romantic and fun, and confirmation on the routine thing with the 6th house. communication is something he’ll need to work on. he could be nurturing to his partner with the cancer. i think he likes to be the one his partner goes to if they’re sad.

i want to emphasize that the cons could easily be changed overtime. if he had a partner that sits down and talks to him about their boundaries, chan would 100% listen and would stop doing whatever makes his person uncomfortable. i honestly don’t think chan is too experienced when it comes to relationships…so it is also a learning experience for him.

[drafty-castle]

My wife just got her SSDI accepted in October. She has been assessed at “nursing home level of care”.

I have been payed by her state insurance for five months to be her full time care giver - after three years of just us emptying out our savings so I could take care of her. It is cheaper for them to pay me than for her to go into a nursing facility - not that I would allow that, ever.

Before she got the Medicare associated with SSDI, DHHS were fighting to take away her state insurance because we were make too much money for it. You know, the money I make that they, themselves, pay me. It lead to a viscous cycle of we make too much money so she’s kicked off… so we make little enough money to apply again and I get my income again… so we make too much money so she’s kicked off…

And now that she has the SSDI, they’re taking half of it in Medicare part B-Z fees because our “income” means she’s not eligible for assistance. We’re fighting to keep her on an -aid supplement but the Bitch who is in charge of the application process is demanding ridiculous and non-applicable to the current situation things “to process the application”. Things like all of my wife’s bank statements from as far back as 2018.

We can’t get those! We can’t because A) one of her old banks has straight up purged all information on closed accounts after 3 years, B) there is a paywall at another bank of $5 per statement leading to hundreds of dollars of fees, , C) they’re all in banks across the country and her name has changed to they’re reasonably questioning her identity, and most importantly, D) she held those accounts with an ex-husband whom she has a restraining order on and can’t access them because he still has them open. The Bitch’s response to this? Well, we need those statements. And, what kind of domestic abuse did you experience? (That’s none of their gods damned business!) And then, oh, by the way! We also want a copy of the check you used to buy your house three years ago. The Bitch is refusing to talk to her case worker, is demanding to talk to her while she’s in therapy appointments, and sending her into a full mental breakdown at this point.

Does this make any gods damned sense? No. Of course not. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to put up barriers. To make it so hard we just give up. The point is eugenics.

Thankfully, her (wonderful but way overworked) caseworker is not letting the Bitch talk to my wife without her ever again (and neither am I), I’ve gotten a number for the ombudsman for that department, and I’m also planning to call the Bitch’s supervisor and present a proctology report.

Oh, by the way? Turns out through out the months we’ve been fighting with them on this, they were never supposed to be counting my income to begin with because I am literally payed by the state insurance itself! Yet despite this, there will likely be several more weeks that I won’t get paid as we figure this shit out.

Incompetence! Incompetence everywhere!

And yet all this might become moot under our Commander in Shit’s reign of terror.

I am so tired.

Yeah, I really am worried about the future my SSDI, and people are telling me it'll be fine.

[beemoon17]

Hello trans community! I’m talking to anyone who identifies under the trans umbrella! I have done A LOT of coming out. And I mean a lot. In fact I am almost 17, and I’ve been coming out several times a year since the 4th grade. I know more than most how much it is.

Every member of your family, every adult in your life, has questions. And of course it would be great if they’d educate themselves, it’s a huge emotional burden to have to walk every single person through their journey to understanding your identity, especially when you know you shouldn’t have to. But unfortunately, most adults won’t do any research that’s harder than one google search. Or are simply overwhelmed by the flood of information available online.

I hope to make a document that is that one google search. When your parents have questions, your grandparents, aunts and uncles, anyone really, I hope that you could give them this document and know that they will be fulfilled. It’s my hope that a resource like this one will take a horrible emotional and mental burden off at least one person.

To do this to the best of my possible ability I need you! I’m asking you to tell me everything you’d want in the document. The things you want cis people to know, the questions you get asked and don’t want to answer yourself, the experiences you want communicated but can’t share on your own. Comment, send an ask, send a message!! Thank you for helping me to hopefully help others :)

[aesops-boy]

Everyone has probably already said and read all there is to say about the US election, but I need to get some things off my chest, so here we go:

I’ve seen a lot of blame from blue toward people who voted green. We knew it would split the party… is what blue would normally say. But this time, it really looks like it didn’t. Jill Stein hasn’t gotten any significant portion (read: not even 1%) of the vote in any given area, except apparently one place in Michigan? (As of writing this, at least.)

And to their credit, I’ve seen a lot of blue actually point this out, too. A lot of blue have acknowledged that as easy as it normally would be to blame a third party splitting the blue vote, it simply does not add up here.

However, I’m a bit disappointed with green. Maybe it’s just my algorithm, which would make sense given that social media gets a lot of success from trying to make you upset and therefore engage, but the responses from green have been troubling. It seems like every one that I see is… celebrating? That they made the “right” choice? The “ethical” choice? That they didn’t vote for genocide?

I mean, sure, I guess technically they didn’t vote “for” genocide… but… there is simply no world where an individual could reasonably believe that for this election specifically, all those blue votes were going to flip green. In fact, it might have even required red votes to flip green.

And it hurts because in deciding to vote to… ease their conscience? No, they didn’t split the vote per se, but it still hurts. “I decided to toss my vote! And I’m glad that blue didn’t get elected because it shows that voters will not stand for blue not supporting Palestine!” is what it sounds like. And what are the Palestinians supposed to do in the next four years with someone who is Hell-bent and has explicitly stated that he wants to wipe them out?

And I don’t want to make everything about me or about people in this country who clearly are not being bombed. But it also hurts personally because you can basically substitute Palestinians for any given minority in that sentence, and it will ring true.

No, green didn’t split the vote. But… can green only act morally superior because blue didn’t win? It feels like some weird version of “owning the libs.” Would it have been different if blue had won? What would it be then? Would green double down on claiming that blue voted for genocide? Would green claim that at least blue realized to not vote red or that even red saw the light and flipped? I don’t know.

And again, it hurts because for every celebratory video I see, every call that claims that green showed blue that they were serious about not voting for genocide and that they will organize and try to get green elected next time…

I hear, “I didn’t care about throwing Palestine under more bombs if it meant I could keep people from voting blue. I didn’t care about Project 2025 if it meant I could keep people from voting blue.”

And no, it’s not fair to blame green for how things turned out. But this is why I at least get so damn hurt seeing these celebrations from green.

I want green to organize. I want green to put a third party that could actually win on the ballot. I want green to put in the work on a large scale between these big elections to get the electoral votes. And I want green to put in the work at the local level to get a third party in from the ground up. I want a third party. I want to never be in this situation again.

As usual, the blame lies with the blue party, red party, and red voters.

The blue politicians alienated their voters. As much as green’s celebrations hurt, what I heard from the blue party was, “We’re willing to compromise with red by giving in to them and getting nothing in return. We’re willing to try to appeal to voters who will never vote for us. We know they won’t. But we’re still going to do this anyway.” Of course I know most of the blue politicians don’t give a damn about me or people I care about. But I was hoping they at least wanted power. This is such an extreme alienation, too; are they really so confident that they can retain their status as the only other option? Maybe. Maybe that’s exactly it. I don’t know. But I know it hurts, too.

And of course, red. Oh, red. Where do I even begin? Red politicians… repulsive. They say the absolute worst about people, especially those who are vulnerable to them. Red voters… I don’t understand. I must assume they truly hate people like me, or at the very least, they simply truly do not care what happens. When their neighbors disappear, when the blood runs in the streets, it will be fine to them. Maybe that extreme makes some of them uncomfortable, so they simply do not believe it will happen.

“Blue is oppressing us!” they say. So they vote for people who have promised to oppress blue harder. But those people are not just oppressing blue. They’re oppressing red who look like blue, who come from the same place, who aren’t the type of red they want.

“I just want things to be normal and prices to be cheaper,” says “more reasonable” red. Then why vote for the ones with an entire plan, a manifesto, laid out on exactly how they’ll make everything very un-normal? The prices won’t be cheaper when you’re unprotected. The big money would rather see people die than live so long as they can make money, so long as they can keep costs to themselves low, so long as they can make prices high. What makes you think they’ll see you as any different?

But I guess if more people like me (and many more who are not like me in the slightest) die, then gas will be cheaper. Certainly less demand.

I guess if more people like me (and many more who are not like me in the slightest) die, then that’s just divine justice for not voting green.

I guess if more people like me (and many more who are not like me in the slightest) die, then that’s just even fewer people blue politicians have to pretend to care about.

Enjoy those eggs.

[a-moment-captured]

I’m sending this to you and @heavyhitterheaux so you both see it.

I get that you and Ree are best friends but do you have to make post to each other every day on here? Some of us struggle to make friends or have them or just don’t like having friends. Then we get on here to you two having a love fest with each other or saying some inside joke that only you 2 know. It’s getting past sickening. Like please just shut the fuck up. No one cares that you two talk on here, Instagram, and probably Facebook too. No one cares about trips to see each other or that you call her Aunt Ree when it comes to your son(which is so fucking weird because you are not family). No one cares about what happens when you’re working and that only you two understand because you are nurses. It’s like watching 2 ten year olds and I hate it. Also no one cares about the places you go or things you splurge on. Of course Ree had to post that she went to an NFL game. Must be nice to not have to worry about money. Same for you because with the pictures you have posted, you can tell you have a nice house with a big yard. Must be nice to not have to worry about paying rent, all your rude fucking neighbors in your building, and just having things work. So I speak for many when I say, shut the fuck up please.

Do you need a hug? Honestly! Do you need one? Because you have to be really miserable to type something like this out about two people who are friends and just simply like to send each other stuff and annoy each other everywhere. Let’s address all the “issues” you brought up:

So what if we send each other messages on Tumblr?! Yes, we send stuff on Instagram and Facebook but so what. We also send it on TikTok and thru text and phone calls and audio messages. Why? Because we can!

This may sound mean but how other people make friends or if they have any has zero to do with my and my friendship with @heavyhitterheaux . We like to annoy each other and show love every where but that’s just who we are and we don’t have to change that for any body.

She is Aunt Ree because some friends become family and that is what she is! Family! I trust her with my son more than some of my on blood. I won’t apologize for expressing our friendship in our own way.

Why are you so concerned with what we spend money on? Did you work for it? Did you spend a night working in the ED in our place? No, you did not! Ree has worked her ass off and so I have for the things we have. I worked my fucking ass off night after night when my son was younger to be able to buy a nice house. I worked my ass off to be able to switch to PRN to spend more time with my child and take care of my mother. So please shut the fuck up. Speaking on someone else’s financial situation is the highest level of “don’t do that shit.”

I damn sure am not going to apologize for working hard to buy a nice house with a nice yard. If you want it then work for it! I didn’t always have it and I have had to live in an apartment with neighbors I didn’t like but I didn’t complain about it and blame it on others. That’s just life.

I’m putting this in big letters: please shut the fuck up and go away. No, I will not stop sending one of my best friends things on here. No I will not stop showing her love when she deserves it. Don’t like it? There is this thing called blocked button so use it! I hope you have a miserable day!

🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽

[seilon]

you know im realizing now. with the exception of a few resident psychiatrists, ive had like. no good experiences with mental health professionals

[23sanguinity]

It’s kinda messed up when reading quizzes are just like “who’s this guy” and there are fifteen named characters and in order to succeed you cannot be me because I cannot remember names (I’m neurodivergent. That’s why.) and it’s like huh maybe if I where neurotypical I could pass this easier and I missed the other three questions because the professor didn’t include the afterword in the syllabus (she put it somewhere else) and what am I supposed to do? Check every place she writes to make sure I do everything? How am I supposed to remember names when I try my absolute hardest but I just can’t.

I’m gonna try to ask my profesor to include some context in future but idk I might have to wait until I get my accommodations. It’s frustrating because I’m expected to do so much more to keep up with everyone else like it’s my fault.

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”��

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

please consider leaving a comment, sending in an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[inkedells]

pairing: old!logan x f!reader

Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing.

wc: 3.5k of pure smut

warnings: heavy smut, lap sitting, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), dirty talk, facials, p in v, ruined orgasms, snowballing, kind of angsty, the claws come out, logan is angry with you, kinda toxic, definitely mean, but still kind of sweet, pwp basically, blood, but it's not bloodplay, it's just logan not caring if he's hurt, if i missed any let me know.

Logan comes home and throws himself back on that torn-up leather sofa, thumb flicking his lighter while the other holds a cigar. It’s less of a distraction from the ache in his bones, and more of a device to push you away. Because if you think he’s tired or angry or hurting, you won’t ask him to fuck you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want you. Of course he does. It’s the sympathy in your eyes when he gets tired from just a couple of minutes of thrusting that he hates. The whispered, “It’s okay. baby, I can ride you.” The gentle touches across his body and his neck and his face and his beard. It all reeks of pity. And if you were to sit him down one day and ask him why he hates being taken care of, he wouldn’t have an answer. He would push the voice in his head down into the void that all the strength he had left fell in, the voice shrinking until it’s nothing as it screams, because I’ve never been taken care of, and I would’ve loved it back when being taken care of wasn’t my only choice.

But it’s fine. You wouldn’t ever ask him that question because he knows for a fact that you don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t be climbing onto his lap quietly, hands rubbing his sides as you press kisses to his neck.

“I missed you, Logan,” You whisper. Your hips aren’t moving; He knows he sat here like this to avoid fucking you, but he almost wishes you were seeking exactly that. Sex, as embarrassing as it would be for him, is better than your sick love. He doesn’t think you love in the way lovers do. It’s the kind of love meant for sick puppies, or the lonely old woman sitting on the bus with all her belongings in plastic bags.

He turns his head to take a drag of his cigar. Silence.

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you as you kiss him. Slow, chaste, no tongue. He feels scrutinized by your touches, and something nervous seats itself deep in his belly.

“How was your day?” You ask, your gaze snapping between his eyes.

Logan closes them. “I’m tired,” He says flatly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

There it is again. Pity.

He scoffs. It’s quiet. Barely there. He didn’t mean to. He watches your face fall the smallest bit. A year ago, he wouldn’t have noticed, and if he would’ve, he would blurt out an apology. Now, he does notice, but he secretly wants to watch it fall even further if it means you’ll realize how much you’ve been hurting him.

You swallow, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone. “I found an American poetry anthology in the basement today. 20th Century. My favorite poem was in it.”

He mumbles, “In a Station of the Metro. T.S. Elliot.” Remembering the poem you told him about months ago sounds too much like sorry. He wishes he’d pretended to forget.

“Ezra Pound,” You correct. Your smile tells him he’s forgiven for an apology he never offered. “If you can recite it I’ll be impressed.”

“I’m not reciting a goddamn poem.” He sounds sarcastic, and it relieves you, but then you kiss him and he’s wound tight again.

You sigh as you pull back. “What’s bothering you, baby?”

“Nothing’s bothering—”

“What’s bothering you?” You interject.

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw. He makes the decision to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of stopping this conversation. You never could resist an orgasm, especially one caused by him. “Enough of that.”

“What?”

But he’s putting out his cigar and lifting you off his lap with a suppressed grunt, then pushing you down on the couch.

“Logan,” You protest.

He continues undoing the drawstring of your pajamas, with a kind of slippery urgency that tells you he's trying to shut you up more than he's trying to satiate his own desire.

You sit up straight, swatting his hand away. “Stop.”

He withdraws immediately, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at the floor. He was wrong, before, about you not knowing. You definitely know, because you don’t place a loving hand on his thigh and you don’t kiss his shoulder. He’s grateful.

Instead, you observe his profile, then the quiet tremor in his hand. The impossible stillness of the rest of him. He tends to do that when his nerves are on fire. Thinks being a statue is what people who aren’t in chronic pain do.

“Don’t do that,” He mumbles, feeling your eyes on him. “I don’t need you feeling sorry, or whatever—whatever the fuck else goes through your head when you’re around me.”

You say nothing. That’s the most he’s said about his feelings in a while. He knows it, so he forces himself to say nothing, too. It doesn’t last long.

“I’m not dying.” His voice cracks a little at the end and he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I know.” The words come out in a tumble, as if you’re rushing to participate in his lie.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m dying.”

“Okay.” Tears prickle your eyes but you blink them away.

“Okay,” He repeats.

You take a deep breath. “But it’s okay to be cared for, Logan.”

He laughs incredulously, and suddenly his volume is rising and his voice is firm. “Would you just—Would you just quit being my fuckin’ mommy? Would you?”

He only lets your silence marinate for a second before he rushes in to kiss you, ignoring the cramps in his muscles as he tugs your neck forward roughly. You squeak against his mouth, fighting his impossible grip on you, but you give up with a shaky exhale through your nose when your efforts prove useless.

“I can take care of you, too,” He grits out. It would sound sweet if it weren’t for the frustration in his tone. He pushes you onto the couch the same way he did moments before as he opens your legs by your knees and settles between them. He sucks a dark mark onto your neck, his fingers digging bruises in your ribs.

“I know you can,” You reassure him. You can see where this is going. “And I love when you do.” You gasp when he pulls your shirt up over the curve of your breasts.

“No. You don’t.” He pinches one of your nipples and sucks the other into his mouth for a brief second. “It’s okay. I’ll show you so you don’t forget again. You won’t want to get ruined any other way.”

“Logan,” You sigh.

He hums against the soft skin just underneath your breast as his hands ravage your body. He begins to unsheathe the adamantium claws in one of his hands so he can rip your top open. It’s slow and excruciating, so he closes his eyes, but the pain is over too soon and his suspicions are confirmed when he opens his eyes to see them stuck halfway.

You don’t expect him to lean back and individually tug each blade free. There’s blood, and now it’s dripping onto your belly, and he mumbles something that sounds like an apology as he wipes the dots of red away with his thumb.

But the hazel in his eyes is alive again. You hope it’s you that did that. Hope it’s not the pain or the sight of his own blood. You want to ask him, just to make sure. You don’t like hurting, right? You just really like me—

He slices through your shirt, careful not to graze your skin, and you try to ignore the fact that he’s never that cautious with himself, but you can’t.

“Logan, you’re bleeding.” Your voice is unstable.

“It’ll heal,” He says quickly, passively. He wipes his burning palm on his wifebeater.

“But that takes a long time now.”

He meets your eyes, his movements frozen. He’s angry and you’re not stupid. You’re pitying him again. He needs you to stop fucking pitying him. When he speaks, his voice is deep and rough and slow, and you would be scared if he wasn’t your Logan. “Are you done?”

You don’t know what to say, so you just close your eyes and nod. You hear his claws retract faster than when they came out, and almost simultaneously, he’s shoving that same hand under your waistband as two of his calloused fingers push themselves into your cunt.

You arch toward him involuntarily, a ragged moan falling from your lips as he tugs your pajamas off your legs and spits on your pussy to ease the slide of his fingers.

Each groan he pulls from your throat is a step toward dispelling the doubt from your body. Doubt of his capabilities, of his strength, of his devotion to you.

“Beg me to fuck you,” He demands, fingering you roughly.

Your mind is cloudy at this point, from sadness or arousal or both, but you give him what he wants. “Fuck me,” You whisper, your eyelids about to flutter shut as you shed a tear.

But then you catch Logan smiling.

He grabs your jaw with his free hand, and you look at him immediately. “You’re gonna let me use it, right? Get myself off?” You lazily trace his features with your gaze—His nose, his wrinkles, his beard—because you know if it were your fingers instead he’d mistake it for tenderness and get mad again.

You nod, but it’s weak with how hazy everything is.

“Good girl.” 

“Please,” You sigh, “I need you inside of me. I need to—I need it.”

“I know. I know what you’re feeling before you feel it.” He lets the pad of his thumb draw quick circles on your clit. “What? Thought I couldn’t hear you playing with yourself in the shower? If I can hear your heartbeat when I walk through the door, what makes you think I wouldn’t have heard you whining my name?”

“Logan,” You sigh, your hips lifting off the couch, coaxing his fingers deeper for as long as possible before he’s shoving you back down with the heel of his palm.

“I’m gonna play with you now. I’ll fuck you after, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“What do you mean, play with me?” You breathe, fighting to keep your eyes open as he finds your g-spot.

He grins dirtily, in a way that makes your head spin and your thighs clench around his hand. You’re barely processing his words as he bends down to mumble in your ear, “Right when you’re about to make a mess on my fingers, I’m gonna stop. Then I’m gonna go down on you. And I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy, maybe even fuck you with my tongue if you’re good. And guess what? Guess what I’m gonna do when you’re this close?”

“You’re gonna stop,” You whine.

“I’m gonna stop,” He nods, and it’s mocking, but it’s gentle, and he’s fucking killing you with the way he’s talking right now. “But I’m not mean. I’ll give you a break. You can calm down when my dick is in your mouth, okay?”

“Okay,” You breathe, your hips unabashedly grinding on his fingers. But you want to reassure him he is mean, and you especially want to tell him how much you love it. “Logan, I’m gonna—”

He withdraws his fingers from you so fast it almost burns. You clench around nothing, your lower half spasming as your orgasm barely approaches before falling away again. Only a hint of pleasure is able to make it through the cracks, and you cling onto it, hoping if you focus hard enough, the wave will come back. It doesn’t. You should regret warning Logan that you were about to finish, but all you feel is comfort now that he’s finally proud of you again.

Another tear streams down the side of your face, landing in your hair. Logan’s watching you as he pets your thigh, his lips parted when he leans down over you. He kisses your wet cheek softly, his beard rough on your skin. It’s unlike him to offer you affection this gracefully during sex. It’s always shaky limbs and suppressed groans and dirty kisses. Both of you know it. 

He moves down your body, until his face is hovering over your cunt. He doesn’t have his reading glasses on, so he has to pull his head back and squint as he spreads your folds with his thumbs, studying what you look like. He licks a stripe over you. A second, longer one, before he zeroes in on your clit. You can do nothing except lay there and take it as your hips twitch from overstimulation under his firm hands.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, your fingers twisting in his hair. “F-Fuck.”

He moans at that, pressed right up against you, the sound deep and delicious and vibrating. “Feel good?” He asks teasingly with a nip to your inner thigh.

“What do—What the fuck do you think?”

He breathes a laugh. It’s short and airy, not frustrated like before, and a warmth ignites itself in the back of your mind. It’s overpowering even the feeling of his mouth licking and sucking your most sensitive area; It’s the relief that he’s still hiding the Logan you fell in love with somewhere in there.

You wind your fingers in his hair and scratch his scalp. You try to do it lovingly, although it comes across as sexual and Logan’s breath hitches in pleasure against your pussy instead. So as you suppress a gasp from the pure skill of his tongue, you show your affection differently—you hold the wounded hand he has resting face-up beside your hip. The cuts embedded there are easy to avoid as your thumb rubs the lines of his palm, because even though you can’t see his hand, the puffiness surrounding each slash on his skin are your cues.

He doesn’t move his hand away, but his tongue falters for a fraction of a second before slowing down.

The kind of love you’re pressing into Logan’s skin with each gentle stroke is unrecognizable to him. It’s not the pitiful love he’s so used to. He thinks it might be the opposite. Admiration. Reverence.

“I’m so empty,” You whisper, bringing your hands to grope Logan’s biceps. They’re sweaty and hard and flexing under your touch, and you wonder if he would let you ride them one day.

When your climax starts to creep up on you, it’s thanks to the image of Logan forcing you to lick your arousal clean off his bicep. Indulgently swirling your tongue along his pronounced veins, savoring the taste of his sweat mixed with yourself. He’d probably say somthing like, fuckin’ filthy. Getting yourself off on my arm. Who does that? Are you that obsessed with me?

Logan feels you squeezing his tongue, harder than all the other times before, so he withdraws at the last moment, ruining your orgasm once again.

 You convulse silently, your breath coming out stuttered with your twitching jaw. As if he can read your mind, he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxers. But he doesn’t strip himself of his wifebeater, stained with blood.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

You blink, and suddenly Logan is hovering above you with his cock over your face. He rubs his leaking tip on your cheeks first, then your lips, and when you open your mouth to take him, he moves his cock away and nudges your jaw shut with his free hand, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

A whine lodges itself in your throat as Logan spreads his pre-come over the plush of your lips. It escapes only when he lets go of his cock in favor of massaging his wetness across your lips and on your tongue with his thumb. His hard cock is bobbing above you, almost tantalizingly, the occasional drip of arousal landing itself somewhere near your eyes, then your hair, then your mouth, and you watch Logan’s brow furrow as you try to lick whatever you can.

His resolve snaps. A calloused hand squeezes at your cheeks until your jaw falls open. His cock is in your mouth before you can process it, thick and heavy and wet. So. Incredibly. Wet. You start to wonder how it’s even possible that he’s this hard at his age, but you know he wouldn’t want you to be wondering that, so you happily push the thought away.

You suck your cheeks in, swirling your tongue around his tip as you bob your head to meet the subtle, almost imperceivable thrust of his hips. You’re taking it well, you know you are. So you keep taking it, until Logan can no longer successfully suppress his moans and his hips are jerking out of rhythm.

He moves back until his cock slips out of your mouth. “I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah, yes. Fuck me. Please.”

He stands up and turns you on your front, your knees pressing into the soft couch cushions with your ass in the air.

“Logan,” You plead as you feel his tip pressing at your entrance.

“I’ve got you,” He says quietly, pushing in until half of his cock is comfortably squeezed by your cunt. Both your breathing is loud and labored, and there’s a specific kind of intimacy in knowing you’re both feeling this identical need. Overwhelming and hot and unquenchable by anything other than each other.

His first thrust is shallow, but it ruins you all the same. With how thick he is, it should feel like an intrusion, and it does. But all you can think about is how perfectly he fits inside of you, filling you extraordinarily with only a few inches.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes. “Look at that.” He traces around your entrance with his thumb. “Stretching so wide to take me.”

You moan, pressing your cheek against the sofa as you rock with his thrusts. He still hasn’t pressed all the way in yet, and you’re growing impatient. “Come on,” You urge, pushing yourself back to force more of his cock into you.

You expect him to chastise you for being so greedy, but he listens to you instead with a slow, full thrust. His tip nudges your cervix with how deep he is, and a ragged moan escapes you. “Yes,” You whine, “Oh god, yes.”

Logan’s breaths are coming out heavy through his nose, quick and occasionally intertwined with a grunt. His thrusts are getting quicker, and it’s starting to burn, but you welcome every sensation he has to offer you. He pulls out, spits on his cock, then shoves himself back inside, and this time you’re both unabashedly moaning the minute you’re joined again. 

His fingers dig in the plush of your ass as he observes himself disappearing into you. It hurts, but you love it. He knows you do, so he spanks you quickly before gripping you and rutting against you again.

“I love when you fuck me,” You whisper, feeling ashamed as soon as the confession leave you. “When you properly fuck me.”

He slows for a moment so he can watch his cock glisten with how wet you are. “I know.” He picks back up his punishing pace.

Your eyes begin to water, from pain or pleasure, you can’t tell. “I love you.”

“I know,” He repeats, this time breathier. His hips stutter. You can tell he’s close.

“I want it on my face,” You tell him quickly, his impending orgasm giving you no time to worry about being too forward.

He pulls out again, letting you turn onto your back as he shifts up your body. He jerks himself furiously, but you swat his hand away and take it upon yourself to stroke him.

“Come for me,” You tell him honestly, softly. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips part around a trembling exhale.

He groans as his release coats your face in long stripes. Some of it even lands in your hair, but you don’t care. Your own fingers work your clit as you stick your tongue out and taste him. Logan bends down to kiss you, chest heaving and hands shaky, and you rub yourself faster as you swap his release between the two of you with a hum. He pulls back to let you swallow, then he kisses your cheeks with his rough beard, uncaring about the mess on your face.

You don’t know you’re coming until it’s over and you’re breathless, and it’s almost excruciating with how much he’s ruined you, but you’re so exhausted you can’t find it in yourself to dwell on it a second longer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down for another kiss because you can hardly remember the one he just gave you.

“I’m sorry I had been treating you all wrong,” You say carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice is rough.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you smooth sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. These touches are hard for him. Any variation of your chaste affection is a reminder that he’s not really Logan anymore.

But the shame in it is gone. Replaced by the reassurance that he can still surround you with safety and firm hands and blatant desire;

And for a moment, he’s his old self again.

A/N: it's been so long since i've written anything, but logan has been consuming my brain for weeks so i had to get this out. i hope it's true to his character. <3 also, my asks are open, so feel free to request anything you want to read about.

[froggibus]

MORE WADE AND LOGAN PLSSSSS CAN WE GET THEM (POLY) DATING A SHORT READER HCS??? TYYYY

Short! S/O - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x short! gn! reader x Wade Wilson

Genre: fluff

CW: poly relationship, teasing, short jokes, Logan picks us up, protective boys, size diff

| Ryan Reynolds & Hugh Jackman are both 6’2 so I am gonna go off of that (i know Logan is short in the comics but just let me dream pls :,) |

YES YES OF COURSE!!! there’s almost nothing I love more than writing a short/small reader cause I myself am not short :,) but it’s nice to pretend. god both of them are so tall I just wanna stand between them & feel safe ^^ thank you so much for the req!!

they’re such bullies i’m so sorry

expect a TON of short jokes (mostly Wade) 

and expect them to parry anything you say with “you’re short” (mostly Logan)

you will always be their arm rest, you have no say in it

standing in line? Logan’s leaning his arm on your shoulder. 

at a party? Wade’s propping himself up on the top of your head 

Logan LOVES how short you are too and manhandles you at any opportunity 

if you’re being a brat, he won’t hesitate to remind you that he is bigger than you

whether that’s him throwing you over his shoulder or just standing real close to you so you can see the height difference up close & personal 

as soon as Wade sees Logan in, he can’t help himself—he’ll slide up on your other side and smush you between the two of them 

they’re such teases they’ll talk about you like you’re not completely stuck between them

“nice weather we’re having, hey?”

“oh yeah, real nice bub”

they’ll keep chatting until you’re whining and pushing against them to just get out 

Wade LOVES putting things on shelves too high for you to reach just so he can watch you struggle 

and Logan the absolute menace will lean against the wall with his arms crossed and watch you hop to reach your phone charger 

they’ll sit there and watch you struggle until you turn on them with sad eyes and suddenly they’re racing to get it down for you 

these mfs are so protective they will not leave your side whenever you go to parties/the bar

one of them is glued to you 24/7 (even when they’re not physically with you, they’re watching you too) 

and anyone in the general area (07) knows not to fuck with you

on especially hard days, your size is just what they need 

coming home from fighting crazy strong villains & mutants to their cute short s/o? nothing better in the whole world

masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way!! likes, comments & rbs are always appreciated ^^