#but the thought of having to live with another kidney issue on top of all the chronic issues i have already has me feeling down and defeated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scentedchildnacho · 10 months ago

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She told me her son started thrashing around on the floor so she had to take him to the ER as..............a mental so I told her I was called a mental and was concentrated I would read as much as I could and none of it makes any sense......so I told her she would have to find a British professional because they are theoreticians....the states only believes in science and physical laws if he had a neurobiological condition they could help but otherwise there is no relevance to mentalism in the states its all mass murder

And she cried too I guess it was pretty scary for him and apologized for not having money to give so I told her to not worry about money...I had complained to her about the assault from the city.....and told her if jobs is given money they think dominance is wanted and rewarded....so no it's not a good idea to give them anything if police violence is common journalism

If jobs is conditioned to quick financial awards because of city assaults on felons homeless other issues the problem never stops they promise forever that they will give jobs more dignity like public pay for equal service and respect like it's a public cafeteria and they continue to stalk them with please master or there won't be tips to pay rent it's never going away

Equal pay for equal work they promise that all the time but all the time desires for pornographic problems instead so I don't recommend that it was ever realistic to believe that humans could be elevated above animals you have to tell people your like an angel....

Dian fossey a lot of schools are like pennhurst they are very notorious institutions that severely batter their students into technocratic religion.....so they have been in study cells most of the time to write those papers they truly only start having a rational if your very sick and drugged

To truly understand just put the hand sanitizer on it and make it get out COVID policy you have to be a bottle a day liquor ho

I can sometimes be told military totalitarianism can be left for a civil society in the states but information that can only be processed into literate discourse like mentality those people had aids.....they were people speaking from near death states

The making of the protestant pastor persona people thought they were dead but they believed in Jesus and were not taken away the 20th century to religion is one of the most experimental Napoleon tries to throw it away

She told me I could get on a list to a motel.......so I told her I try to not be moved from one tentative situation to another if it's just yet another place a landlord has no rules from the tenant like don't approach my living space without two weeks notice and qualified reason to be on the property then it will just be more assault and battery they refuse to follow landlord Tennant laws and so do nothing but rape disease....its like liberia

You have to give hotels a months security deposit and the next day their banging on your door to get to rape....ive never been so gay phobic as around this occupation they want to call customer daddy all the time it's disgusting

I have met women who tried to be Mexican and stay in motels and you have to street drug deal to prostitute and street baggies are often situations unkind from the start or become very unkind

The basics of drugs is its a pyramid scheme to keep the police czar at the top of the pyramid and it's a police business a police business hurts very badly it's clientele if told to remove his business if the bottom of the pyramid keeps demanding supply then police hurt people to make them stop executiveing them

Uhm one motel woman explained to me her kidneys failed several times and there were surgeries so that's why she doesn't exhibit normal rat aversions anymore

If the white mouse is shocked it doesn't do that anymore

Uhm nicotine was still legal in pregnancy till 1976 and many women still practice it even if their told it's more for the mother the baby lies near the heart the feet don't

You could get a severe embollism from smoking while pregnant and the baby could start feeling like an intestinal worm you would be getting so few nutrients

The basis of 20th century religion to government is its all a race from Africa instead of indigenous to the United States.....and so most intellectual writing is based off severe lung cancer you would have to have a nicotine personality disorder to truly understand free love problems

If its nazish I am more on the Jewish side of things to believe that youth strength of beauty kindness will bring a compassionate revolution...Robert remak did more believe in strong beautiful mother's devoted totally to pastoral settings of simple skill building

To motel I just said I watch Martin Luther King Jr........so you have to sometimes believe in the other America there was this huge fortune of the 1950s and everyone could be very straight looking and clean and moral and little poverty and all these people from all over the world came and they created a 60s revolution....it was truly a global revolution and realize that this infrastructure is truly elderly peoples in some way and that there truly is a new world that is ours

When you don't focus on homeless or not and instead focus on I don't ever have to live harassed and condemned you should realize there are competent people in the army and they code buildings for everything possible

For instance his building appeared normal but did not have requisite safety ratings for the current car conflict so he doesn't.....have to live there and that's why homeless policy is illegal the current structure does not promise enough safety ratings to find restoration and renewal a correct policy

There are federal hunting machines you can't go out there and build a wood structure anymore you have to like learn concrete as above ground basements and live like an Arab or nowhere is truly quiet

Its illegal to have a petty view of homelessness because terrorist demands like these want to mine oak flats and other preserves and force us all to live in bunkers all the time or suffer nervous shock similar nuclear testing sites

Their petty wife beater problems are a public policy to them and sex harassment is like really wrong

His rv won't make him look good enough at meetings or she won't wear deodorant if her program views cosmetic alterations too much of a shipping problem their petty anti semites that can't truly love anyone

He won't take his hoodie off because his spine hurts that bad so he wouldn't invite him to tour a graduation ceremony because of his pain induced nihilism oh my God exact opposite of democracy correct

I only had to speak freely and unnervously and all my friends from childhood would never ever reconnect with me ever again

Doyle im sure some day I will understand the pavlovian clinic aversions to ever admitting an environmental basis to thought is feeling to feeling is thought

You can't get a job unless your really high on marijuana and your sole function is to please the tribal group.....Doyle

It was a brief moment of nostalgia I had to be suddenly around my mother a lot now I dont have any necessity to be around my childhood friends.......it would just be memories not learning and I require projects and environmental standards now

I told another man that the city assaulted me and tried to steal my personal property so he was quick to say to me I look a little like this woman that went into a gas station he worked at all the time

So i told him i just arrived to Escondido and have no understanding of the location he is mentioning....so that's the clue he would give me about identity theft some lady use to use a lot of liquor off my identification

I got the feeling the city worker who assaulted me was like this cory cop in Brunswick Georgia......he shot his wife and was induced into a psychosis by the county jail and he kept thinking that different women who popped up kept being his wife and he was just in a really lucid delusion and shot two more women till someone considered him a rabid dog and finally shot him to stop bothering people

If you ask me the city worker who assaulted me this morning is the type of blue eyed man that practices incest at yahshua communities....the Germans steal some of their children and he will keep going up to blue eyed women and assaulting them like incest induced sweat factory illegal labor is normal till people stop approving his subsidies and kick him out into the policy he created

It will start bothering people to have scenes and too many people will leave to go elsewhere and someone will finally dump him into his own policy creation

Yahshua houses.....I would call that michael ondaatje their people who do like large parties of entertainment and host important people and not so important people they entertain it's just what their community does

Theoretician....a belief in mentalism would be the type of feminist that doesn't believe battery is to create a dull thing it's cosmology it's a utopic vision of its angelic qualities

Thomas Kuhn the type of feminist that believes the 1960s revolution was in its belief that all life is inherent crisis

The states believes in science the indigenous people were thought of as aliens instead of earthlings so it's belief is that people try to murder as hopeless nuclear Holocaust victims white people under indigenous religions are so small featured and subtly provocative of a secular anger

So science posits no idealistic artistic vision it's view is disease is the body not able to be itself or grow in ways other cultures find heavenly prestigious

Things in the states arent dealt with really formally......i think to the city worker who tried to assault me....but I think the states is known for really really invading the privacy of the citizen....so things like the African abominations were known for how common of conversation it all was.....so there is an omnipotent eye of God sattelite that knows all about us every last thing and no one gets away with anything in urbanity

The paper just said tribal leaders maybe told that type of man to get out of white areas....their white people and their temper cant tolerate many levels of homosexual fascism.....and he kept stalking up to my tribe

The tong VA educational material I viewed just told me l.a. is all in some way a tribal land and their people who know they should not disturb white people i hate international Indian requirements I hate people ever asking me for physical activity i hate it and they dont stop

No i think trump homeless people may join drug cartels so trumpness was allowed around tribality and now I prefer death penalties for the threats to my life this morning

She isn't allowed as government on tribal lands and they keep stalking around till its well stupid bitch you do nothing for homeless people so drugs are sold because it's the most obvious resistance to people so rude and incompetent you feel bad if you don't just deliver their crack and give them their suicide building

Uhm to me I was white and I harbor European drug fanatics.....and if I had to drug deal I don't have to do anything as awful as marijuana stimulant theory is many things so is dope

No the prescriber in McKinney Texas to try to call me a condemned crack whore had to wear tight pants that called her labial infantile she had to look labial and starved all the time and people would try to gross her out from eating like a large pile of ground beef and stalked her with a large male sport team so no that drug boss is not good to his drug reps no

Its all simple tests of wisdom and you cannot ever decide to leave the matrix ship to be permanently put back into gen x world.....or you have to suffer and die for it

Uhm tommy wouldn't stop stressing out my shoulder in some way I think so somebody broke his shoulder they don't stop stressing out my head neck and shoulders so people will maybe shoot it in the shoulder

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toxic-spike-plumeria · 5 months ago

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Here goes nothing then. Plumeria thought to herself, sighing heavily again. ‘Well, alright. I already told you about my patents- my mom died from illness, something post-child bearing, and naturally my dad blamed me for it even though I was barely a year old. I grew up with him always being cold and distant, and always reminding me about how much of a mistake I was. He was a boater, so he was usually out in the waters anyway. And when he was home, especially when I was old enough to make my own food and take care of myself, he basically tried to act like I didn't exist. I didn't cry when he killed himself- there was nothing between us for me to mourn. If anything, I was more pissed off that he listed me as the crux of all his problems. As if I had a choice in even being born.”

She took a sip of her water. “I was 10, and then my best friend Zeke and his mom and aunt took me in, even though they were struggling themselves. Zeke’s mom had a cancer in her kidneys, and his aunt had issues with her immune system. His mom died by the time we were 12, and his aunt didn't make it past another 3 years herself. Poor thing.” She was saddened at the loss of the women. “They did the best they could for us with nothing but government scraps. Those women I mourned. But the worst part of my life so far was Guzma.” she shuddered at saying his name, tensing up on instinct.

“See, Zeke and I lived on a small route on Ula’ula where the jungles divide into path and then the beach. Po Town was always close, but always off limits. Since being abandoned by the colonists that created it, it just wasn't safe. But we were playing truth or dare with some other kids, and they dared us to go, so we did. Imagine our surprise when we find out someone actually lives there. And that someone was him. At first he was cool, didn't mind us being around, kept an eye on us, and told us we could come back if we got bored, that there was nothing to be afraid of in Po Town. He also had pot, which Zeke was a major stoner back then. So we went back, daily, and we'd shoot the shit and just smoke. Sometimes Zeke couldn't make it over, so I would just go alone.

The thing about Guzma was he knew how to charm. He was very charismatic. And when you're a 14 year old girl in a place where you only have two real friends cuz everyone else thinks you either are cursed or are the curse, receiving attention from a guy who's kinda cute and older than you, you allow it. And he knew exactly what to say to compliment me and get me to trust him and want to see him more. And it was just the two of us more often as Zeke’s aunt got worse. And I didn't know anything was happening when we were alone. Like I said, he'd smoke us up, I'd pass out, and wake up hours later. Usually sore and tired. And I just always thought it was from how I slept. It wasn't until about a year or so in that I found out what he'd been doing.

I woke up one time; he was on top of me. Inside of me. It felt invasive, and weird. I knew what he was doing, but I was too young to know it was wrong at the time. Especially since once he figured out I was awake he just told me to relax, that I'm his girl and he's gonna take care of me, and this is totally normal for couples to do. So I just layed there. I didn’t know what else to do. I trusted him, and he had been good to me by that point. And Zeke. We actually moved in with him, into the shady house, when Zeke’s aunt passed away.

Within some months he was able to recruit some other punks that, like us, had nowhere to go. Whether we were orphaned, running away from abuse, or just outcasts from our towns, it didn't matter. Team Skull, as we were called, were a family. Guzma was Big Bro. He was the oldest of us. 25 by the time we were fully formed. And as his girl, and one of the other older females, I became Big Sis. My job was to keep the grunts in their place and look after them. So I did just that. To be honest, the grunts kept me there more than anything.”

She lit a cigarette, offering one to Piers, and taking a long drag before continuing. “Things were cool for a couple of years. I mean, I was still smoked up to get fucked, it was easier that way. I didn't have to think about the awkwardness I felt inside when he was doing what he was doing, and the pot helped it just feel better in general. But then Guzma got involved with Lusamine and the Aether Foundation, which was fronted to look like a Pokémon utopia but was actually a set up to induce and act like a beacon for the wormholes that the ultra beasts come from. And Lusamine was obsessed with the beasts. And Guzma was obsessed with Lusamine. And she knew that, and used it to her advantage.” She gave a dry chuckle. “Funny, that she did to him exactly what he'd been doing to me, but I thought he and I were in love. And I fucking hated her for what she did to him.

It didn't take long after joining with Aether for Guzma to change. We were used to doing petty crimes for survival, mostly food theft and illegal water collection. Nothing more than the bare minimum needed for the group. But once Aether was involved, the stakes were raised. Suddenly we were told to take certain Pokémon, usually by force, so they could be ‘freed’ into the created Utopia. And the more Guzma was around Lusamine, the more angry and violent he got towards the rest of us. And when the pot started to wear off, he'd mix me up a drink of melatonin, oxy and valium to have his way. I was addicted within months. He knew damn well too that would happen.”

By this point Plumeria’s stance was starting to break. Her voice cracked at the memory, and tears brimmed her eyes. She shook slightly as she continued. “Aether continued to be a problem for all of Alola, and in being complicit so wasn't Team Skull. I couldn't take care of my friends how I wanted because I was too drugged up most of the time, and by this point I will say Guzma had become a problem for me. I never once wanted to be a fucking criminal. I didn't like us stealing Pokémon, and I knew something was wrong with Lusamine and Aether. In the end, though, she was able to call forth her beasts. And she allowed herself to be swallowed up and morphed by one of them. Guzma followed her suit. For why I'll never know. But they were taken by their beasts back into the wormholes. That was probably 4 years ago now. Haven't seen either since. And wormholes over Alola faded. Until they started to pop up once again at random all over. Hence why I'm here.

Now naturally someone had to atone and pay for what Aether, and by association Skull, had done against Alola and its people and Pokémon. With our top admins just gone into space, it fell onto me. Pretty sure if Alola had the death penalty Hala would have assigned it. But Nanu and Olivia took pity. Clearly I wasn't compliant by will. They ordered rehab, and then civil service for life. Part of that service is sending the grunts and I to wherever these anomalies show up. Mostly because we know more about them. And we're always paired with that region's profession, and usually some other ‘stand up citizen’ to basically babysit us. Part of my sentence also includes therapy. And therapy is what made me realize that I'd been used the whole time. There was never any love. I was just his fucking puppet. And his fuck puppet.” She added bitterly. Some tears had escaped, and at first she tried to hide it and wipe them away quickly. But now, she didn't seem to care if any fell.

“So that's who I am. And I told myself that after him I wouldn't ever allow myself to have feelings for anyone like that again…except, that wasn't true. Because I did develop feelings again. No matter how hard I tried to deny it. And I'm scared. Not because I think you're going to hurt me. I'm afraid of him coming back. I have nightmares of it daily. And I can't imagine someone I care about getting hurt because of me.”

🎸 from Here

@toxic-spike-plumeria

Piers gave Plumeria a very odd look, but it wasn’t one that was entirely readable. Instead, he stood up and offered her a hand up, not that it was needed, but rather to be polite. It was then that he flashed her a light smile.

“Nah, ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong, Plu. Just looked like ya might be gettin’ overwhelmed. I get that vibe. Happens t’me too at times. Let’s take a cruise… a scenic route back. It’ll be nice.”

With that, he lead her back to the bike and offered to help her on it, handing her the helmet once again. He then took his seat on it as well, and started the engine, letting it run a moment before having her hold on.

The night air was cool and fresh, and Piers was clearly loving the ride. Not only did he have a gorgeous woman with him, she was actively part of the reason this night was so wonderful to him.

The countryside passed them by as they cruised casually down side roads to delay the ride a bit more than normal.

By the time they reached her home, Piers was feeling quite rejuvenated, and it was clear in how he seemed so relaxed. Nearly as though he were a hippie rather than a punk.

“Ah, I guess all good things must end, yeah? C’mon love, let’s get you settled inside.”

He offered to help her off the back of the bike again, and fastened the helmets to the ride, and tucked the keys away inside his jacket pocket. It was a hidden one, inside of the right flap, where he stored important things like ID and keys.

#okay so i had to write this one out before replying and it is a doozy and i am sorry #im also super sorry for the late response #tw drug and non consensual content

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hehosts-moved · 2 years ago

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#im just gonna be real with you all #without going into all the other IRL stuff but basically like #grandma is in stage 4 renal failure and has one kidney so #that’s why ive been so busy primarily on top of just all the other stuff and cons #and otter is working to the bone #some good thoughts would be appreciated #she could still live another few years but she’s stubborn when it comes to things #diet being a big one as she has diabetes and other issues aside from the kidney #which some of you might remember the situation with said kidney in 2021 #so im not disinterested and im not slow im just legit very stressed and busy and trying to keep it all up in the air #she’s getting better but each day is different so it requires a lot of my attention #as we are helping now run her business too and will eventually take it over #ive lived with grandma for the last ten years we have a lot of history and she’s family #and she raised otter so this is a deep connection so it’s very difficult

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vendetta-if · 2 years ago

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💠💠

hey I'm just loving the story so so much and that scene with Yvette was *chefs kiss*...sorry this will probably be a long rant its just the things you've made me feel 😩😔...if I could read the entire story right now I'd sell a kidney 😂

I'm hoping we can have more conversations with Yvette like we did to really dive into her character, thoughts and feelings especially towards our MC...I usually have a hard time with her character because it always seems like she doesn't really regret what she did as much and seems more like she's approached MC and doing what she's doing mostly, if not solely, because she feels cornered and not as someone that also regrets their decisions and wishes to repair the relationship they DONT have with their child...I know she can feel both those and they can be her motivations, but it just feels like she's driven by the former and not the latter..so I'm looking forward to our interactions with her and if there will be options to let MCs frustrations, sadness, anger and longing bare before her I will...I'd be open to making amends but she has to know and feel everything her absence put MC through and my MC needs to see her genuinely, proactively and consistently care for them before they consider thinking of them as their mother again, nobody can top papa Vic 😂 he set the damn bar too high but if she can put half as much effort hey then we're getting somewhere...

And i have to say, your characters as well are so well written and realistic and raw that I get so engrossed in every little thing they do and I can't help but feel that they're real people with real scars, issues, hopes, dreams, problems and aspirations and relate with them...because I understand Yvettes thought process its like 'I've come too far to look back now' and she feels like she can't let go of everything she built because it would sort of make all her sacrifices meaningless or she may feel she doesn't deserve too and I think she did mention something like that but I wonder if she knows that hurts my MC more 😭😭

Anyway for an ask i wondering what Yvettes fears and or regrets are 'if they're not spoiler' are towards MC and the relationship between the both of them especially because Yvette is asking them to hunt the man that killed her former lover and father of her child 😅...especially if its a vengeful 'I WILL STOP YOU EVEN IF IT KILLS ME' MC...do they fear losing MC like they did Victor or has that not crossed their mind

Sorry it got pretty long but before i vanish I just want to encourage you and say you're awesome and stay blessed!!! its probably not easy making your content and living your life irl but you do it anyways and for that we are more than grateful 🙏

💠💠

Thank you so much for the kind words 🥰🙏 And I’m glad you’re loving the characters and feel like they’re realistic 🥺🥺 Also, don’t worry about sending this long ask, I love reading you guys’ reactions to the story ❤️ And, don’t sell your kidney for the story, the Morozovs don’t deal in organ trafficking 😆

So, about Yvette, yes, MC will have an optional chance to do a little hang out session with Yvette in the future where they’ll be able to have another conversation with her ☺️

Also, I love how readers interpret the talk with Yvette a little bit differently from each other. Some readily accept her apology and see it as sincere regret, while some, like you, are more skeptical and don’t readily forgive her right away.

Right now, I planned to let those that don’t forgive her the first time to change their mind in the future if they want to. It’s not 100% guaranteed as all plans are subjects to change constantly , but I’d really love to include that.

As for your question, I’m actually not really sure what Yvette’s fears are in the context of her relationship with MC other than messing up her second chance if MC decides to forgive her and MC dying 🥺 She doesn’t really fear MC hating her per se, because it is what she has been believing and expected all these years.

And yes, the thought of losing MC has crossed her mind before, and you can actually see that in the Luka and Yvette Funeral Talk Side Story in case you haven’t checked it out. She would be devastated if MC died, she doesn’t want that. When she came to ask for MC’s help, she just expected MC to talk with Luka or Grandpa and basically just be on standby to help with sharing information about the underworld that’s needed and connecting the group to the Morozovs’ resources and connections, instead of MC actively participating and hunting down the killer 😔

#asks #anon ask #if: vendetta #vendetta if #char: yvette #char: mc #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript

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berena-cpr · 3 years ago

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Unfinished Masterpieces - Fic Rec List

Remember the WIP on ao3 you can’t let go? The one that resonated with you? The one that you’d give anything to know how it ends?

While the Berena Creative Project Resuscitation event is all about starting to work again on projects sitting in our draft folders, life can get in the way of finishing a project for a hundred reasons.

These works, posted, but still a few chapters short of ending, are loved though and with this list we’d like to share the love for the unfinished masterpieces one can find in the Berena tag on ao3.

Given the high response we had when we asked to tell us about your favourite WIPs, you’ll find the list under the cut:

Anything Else to Declare? - LittleMissO

“I've personally had sleeping issues since I read LittleMissO's Anything Else to Declare because yeah, I'm still there, breath held and heart pounding like crazy after the most delicious slow burn, and pining, and that outrageously flirtatious conversation over a whiskey.”

that line between your heart and mine - ktlsyrtis

“it is just plain hot but also I love the idea of them writing letters to each other and I also love the exploration of what their relationship might be like with Bernie still being in the RAMC.”

you disappear like your cigarette smoke (now the taste of your kiss is all that remains) - bonnissance

“A wonderful, emotional angst filled fic, looking at how Bernie’s life might still have progressed after Serena left. I loved how it showed her testing her own boundaries to see if it was possible to find another relationship with someone else and when she found that wasn’t something she could do, she accepted it and found other ways to be happy without Serena. I reread it fairly often because although unfinished it doesn’t ever seem incomplete. But the last word “Serena” always leaves me full of a hope that I would dearly love to have fulfilled.”

Secrets in the Dark - Wonko

“I’d love to see this continued!”

For a Good Time Call - Regency

“Young Serena using that pure sex voice of hers to make a little extra as a phone sex operative, and young nervous Bernie taking the first tentative steps in exploring her sexuality. Who better than Serena to help her figure things out? The premise of the fic is ingenious, the writing amazing, the dialogue just outstanding. Hot, sexy, soft and full of compassion and feels. I would sell a kidney to read the next chapter to this – Bernie and Serena meeting years later and recognising each other’s voices.”

you're the only one I never looked for - gutsandglitter

“Never expected I'd enjoy a Baby Boom AU, but I love this fic. Serena hanging out in the country feeling extremely overwhelmed and constantly running into this weird tall, awkward woman named Bernie is a mood. I will forever hold out hope for an update so that I can someday read about them having lots of sex (after an appropriate amount of angst, miscommunication, and unexpected grocery store encounters, of course).”

Things Kayryn doesn't write - Kayryn

“So they’re not exactly unfinished, because they are complete, beautifully crafted, amazingly inventive, head canons, but they’re not completed fic’s so I’m counting them. I actually think that’s one of the lovely things about them, there’s a full story in there but enough space in them to bring your own imagination to the details. The fact that every head canon is spot on and you can completely image it happening is the icing on the cake, and the perfect characterisation is the cherry on top. Canon could have taken lessons from from Kayryn”

I Want to be Your Fantasy (Maybe You Could Be Mine) - Regency

“I just love the concept and the first chapter just pulled me in and I so very much want to know what happens next.”

Notting Hill - Bat_and_Breakfast

“All the “Rom Com idiots in love but they don’t know it miscommunication capers” re-envisaged for Berena you say? Sign me up! I love the way the plot of Notting Hill is absolutely recognisable, but never at the expense of Bernie and Serena’s characters. Everything they do, their responses, the dialogue, is so them. And the cleverly cast Holby regulars as supporting stars - genius. It’s an absolute triumph of transformative work. It’s wonderfully and engagingly written. If you’ve ever got sucked into watching “just a bit” of rom com and found you’ve just lost a couple of hours of your life - this fic does the same thing.”

Follow Me There - troiing

“Full disclosure: I’ve never watched Sanctuary and I know nothing about the characters. But this crossover fic is so good, that it doesn’t even matter.”

hold me closer (tiny dancer) - serenacampbell

“I don’t know why I’m so attached to that fic, but I am. I love the premise of a slow burn fic where the characters still get to do sexy things during the awkward slow burn oblivious period. It’s like the best of both worlds.”

Machu Pechinku - Jrnsaxa

“Forget France and Nepal, what if Serena spent her sabbatical in Peru? The setting in this is beautifully vivid, as is the the delicate ways in which Serena and Bernie start to reconnect after Elinor.”

Hello, Major - lesbianquill

“This is a near perfect Serena being fixated on Bernie in fatigues fic. The first chapter is very insightful, helping us to understand why Bernie might not be happy to accede to Serena’s small kink/obsession. That of course doesn’t last for too long because Bernie loves Serena and she loves having sex with Serena. It was offered as a smutty one shot, but then they rewarded us with an even smuttier second chapter and teased us with the news that a third chapter would be forthcoming. It never happened. Main reason for wishing it could be continued? I enjoy well-written smut.”

In the Spirit of Three Stars - alwayssomethingelse

“Bernie and Serena as Federation officers on Deep Space Nine. Oh, the potential!”

Anatomically Correct - phantomunmasked

“Bernie severely overcompensating for any possible awkwardness in their first time by ordering a mountain of sex toys is a premise that will always delight me. Every time I go back to this one, I ponder what their weekend away would bring with a big grin.”

The Clinic - RexWolfe

“Maybe it’s all the Bramwell we’ve been watching, but this one’s been on my mind lately. Can’t go wrong with a Victorian AU.”

a life in pictures - Regency

"I soooo want to see Serena maybe modelling for Bernie (or at least just how the date goes)”

working up a storm inside my head - sevtacular

“While this isn’t actually an unfinished fic in the sense of chapters missing, the prompt fic collection of Sev can always be added to as far as I’m concerned. Love what has been written so far, hope there will be new chapters with time.”

Body and Soul - ChalkHillBlue

“Possibly the weirdest AU idea ever, this body swap AU makes my brain go crazy with the possibilities every time I read it.”

When We Need One Another The Most - Whispersmummy

“I know this isn’t strictly Berena but it wouldn’t have been written if not for the Berena fandom who love most every conceivable way these two dorks might get together. Very well written (imo) and cleverly constructed fic. Lots and lots of angst and who doesn’t love angst? Only thing missing is a small amount of smut. (Yes I’m back there).”

Ring In The New - fiveroundsrapid

“Fics where Bernie comes to Holby before/during Adrienne’s illness are my kryptonite, and this one is so good!”

Holby One: A Star Wars AAU Story - elitryalittle

“Holby One is my favorite unfinished fic. It’s not just because I came to Berena via Star Wars (a bit of an unusual way, but here I am), but also because I can totally see Serena as a healer and Bernie as a Jedi knight. Kudos for their excellent knowledge of the SWU and this great idea of a crossover fic. I’d give them a limited edition “Looking for Leia” patch and a sticker if they’d finish it.”

to gaze at you, from afar (I sigh, I sigh, I sigh) - bonnissance

“The photographer/model AU you never knew you needed in your life, but you really, really do.”

Heroic Endeavor - Nicolaruth27

“I never would’ve thought I’d be down for a Greek god AU, but this fic has permanent residence in a corner of my brain. Bernie as Athena in mortal form is inspired, and the way the fic is interwoven with canon is a delight.”

what a lovely way to burn - ktlsyrtis

“I just love anything that's weaved into canon but with them being happy and dating and communicating."

Love, Unexpected - Igerna

“Bernie is still married to Marcus when she meets Serena during a conference. They immediately bond and keep in contact, sharing both professional advice and thoughts on their private lives. Love, for them, happens rather unexpectedly. I do love conference fics and slow burns - and this is a good one.”

a little less war torn - kitnkabootle

“The setup for this - in which Serena is the one who goes to help when Bernie is brought to Holby, instead of Raf - is one of my favorite ‘what ifs’ to ponder, and the writing is outstanding.”

#berena #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #holby city #berena cpr #fic rec

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mommymooze · 4 years ago

Text

Sleep Doctor

Hubert X Reader. Warning: blood war violence, rudeness, bad dreams

You are often compared to Mercedes, both of you are talented in healing, as well as both of you have doting, motherly personalities. Both of you are nurturing, protective, supportive, bakers of treats, a trusted confidante.

There are differences of course. Her faith is in the goddess, yours is in the human spirit. Your reason magic is powerful as well. You don’t have a creepy brother, just a lazy sister. You cook delicious meals, you love brewing potions and concoctions. While she is laid back and chill, you are assertive and firm. You give advice and then enforce it.

Mercedes suggests that someone get more sleep, rest, take their time to recover. Maybe gently remind them after a few days if she stills sees dark circles under their eyes. You tell them they need more sleep and that you will be waiting for them at their room to make certain they sleep that night and perhaps the next two or three nights.

Linhardt enjoys sharing duties as the healer for the Black Eagles Strike force with you. His favorite taunt is to use your name as a threat. “If you do not rest that leg and let it heal, I will advise (y/n) of the situation.” Everyone is quite aware that Emperor Edelgard fully supports your extremely strict and regimented methods to ensure that the Strike Force is in tip top condition.

One of your pet peeves is finding injuries long after a battle is over. Linhardt will only leave his minor wounds untreated if he is too tired to get to it. Dorothea does very well seeking treatments promptly. Petra has a great understanding of the responsibility of your body being a temple and to keep it in constant repair. Bernadetta only hides injuries if she feels that she has made a mistake and tries to use it as self-punishment. Caspar is highly maintained and checked by Lin, so he’s in great shape. Emperor Edelgard is preened by the healers every time she returns, to make sure not the tiniest scratch is left unattended lest she get an infection. Ferdinand does frequent the healers, however he has been known to often get infections, not understanding the seriousness of the smaller, less important wounds he has received in the germ and disease filled conditions of war.

Then there is Hubert. He stands and gives reports to his Lady, while his own blood is pooling at his feet. His mindset is Duty Before All Else. Immediately upon arrival from a mission, he must report to Emperor Edelgard, then he may stop by the infirmary, but more likely will return to his tent or quarters and write his reports of the mission results.

At first you try reasoning with him. Advising him he is losing enough blood that by the time his report is finished his body is completely exsanguinated. You attempt to physically remove him from the Command tent and he strikes you with magic. Trial and error provides the answer for your most successful method of treating the irritatingly stubborn man. Healing him upon his arrival, during his report to the Emperor upon his return. The moment Hubert warps to her tent you are summoned from the infirmary. Your materials already await you in the command tent.

“Stand over here on these towels.” You order the dark mage.

“I must present my report…” Hubert angrily chastises you.

“I tire of my carpets being stained, do as she says.” Edelgard orders, he complies.

You remove his cape, cravat, and outer coat. You stand behind him as he is advising the Emperor of his latest completed duties in the never-ending effort to win the war for the Empire. You in turn untuck his white and red stained shirt from his pants and pull it up in the back clipping it out of your way. The blood has dried around his undershirt and you cut it loose from the stab wound that is just at the base of his rib cage, thankfully below his heart by a few inches. Had the assassin had a better angle, well, the Spymaster would not be with us right now.

Pressing a cloth that is thoroughly soaked in alcohol onto the wound to remoisten and allow removal of the remaining undershirt material as well as cleanse the wound preventing infection, you apply firm pressure into the hole and begin removing the soiled cloth from the deep stab wound as you hear him exclaim.

“…and then we proceeeeek!..Flames woman! Trying to finish the job!” The dark mage yells, his left arm coming back to smack you away as the burning sensation of the liquid goes deeper into his flesh.

You easily duck his attack as you remove the foreign materials, making certain the wound is absolutely clean. Minor deep healing spells take care of the immediate damage. There will still be bruising to his left kidney. You pull out needle and thread to pull the two sides of the wound back together, making it easier for the healing spells to take hold and lessen the scarring. That particular wound finished, it is not difficult to trace another slice into his flesh, this time blood is soaking into his shirt collar as he sustained a dagger’s blade to the side of his head just behind his ear. Head wounds bleed profusely, if they do not penetrate the skull they cause little problem as long as they are cleaned. A nice curved needle allows you to pick up the skin on each side to bring them back together again. A final healing spell there and the bleeding subsides.

Your hands glow lightly as they run along his body, searching for any additional injuries. The stubborn mule of a man certainly will not reveal any weak points. Two ribs on his left front are heavily bruised, healing spells correct that situation. Finding no other serious injuries, you return the cape and coat to Hubert, pat him on the shoulder, and proceed to the infirmary.

The trouble with being at war is that it is prohibitive to good sleep. There are quite a few members of the Strike Force that have issue with sleeping, some nights it is interrupted by dreams or memories of personally tragic events during the war, others cannot get to sleep in the first place, their minds tormenting them with frightening thoughts. While in Enbarr or at Garreg Mach, you are available to assist your fellow Strike Force members with issues of nightmares, night terrors or simply general insomnia. Your schedule is changed to accommodate the availability for such. You are available from sunset until 5 or 6am to assist with these issues. After that you return to your room to sleep until noon. The guards patrolling the areas are trained take notice if someone is calling out loudly in their sleep. There is also a physical sign, a request for assistance, by placing a red card slightly peeking past the bottom of the door, alerting them to retrieve you to the location for necessary assistance.

Your counsel at night is always kept between you and the patient. Having someone there to talk to is the best medicine for most parties. A trusted ear, a caring heart, letting them know they are not alone, simply being there is at times the answer to the current situation.

Hubert again, is the one most difficult to work with. His living space is highly covered in magic spells and sigils. The layout is such that if he is screaming in his bed it would not be heard through his closed door. He is not one to ask for help unless it is from complete desperation. Only by observing the reticent Spy Master can you tell that sleep has been evading him more than normal. His eyes are sunk further back into his skull, the blackness seems to surround his eyes. He taps his feet to keep his body moving, reminding himself to stay awake. This dedicated, enervated man is your most challenging patient by far. As today’s strategy meeting concludes, you request that he remain behind to discuss a matter with him and Emperor Edelgard.

“Hubert, when was the last time you slept.” You ask, hands on your hips.

“Three days ago. There is no time for sleep when you are running a war.” He answers.

“There is only so long before your body will take what it requires. The next battle is less than a week away. It is critical that you sleep now.” You plead, looking to Edelgard for support. “I agree. Hubert, pass along what duties you can and carve out time for sleep every day until the battle. Provide both of us a schedule of when you will set aside time for rest.”

Hubert stands, bowing to his Emperor and glaring at you sharply before he leaves the room.

You have found, through trial and error, ways of making him sleep. Forcing him into specific routines that subconsciously prepare him for sleep. Once he is in bed and relaxed usually a palm resting on the back of his hand is enough to make him lay still enough to drift off. Sometimes he is more agitated, so you will read to him dissertations regarding the history and foundation of white magic in a monotone voice. The text is very dry, of no interest to him, yet the words distract his thoughts enough, allowing sleep to take him.

Today was no such day. Overtired and restless he shifts in his bed anxiously.

“Tell me a story.” He finally requests.

“I did not think you a fan of fairy tales or knights.” You reply softly.

“You have a large family. Tell me a story of your youth.”

You begin to weave the tales of your younger days. The family going into the woods to pick buckets upon buckets of blueberries, your brothers getting distracted by seeing who could climb the highest in a tree, Mother panicking that they would fall and break their arms and legs. Scrubbing the purple from your siblings before getting them to bed then helping mother preserve the berries in wine bottles to enjoy during the winter. You are softly retelling these events until you realize he has fallen asleep.

It is not dark in the room, the curtains are pulled close to reduce the sunlight. You pull out a novel to read. Hubert is a quiet sleeper. He’s not like Caspar who crawls around and tangles himself in his sheets while he slumbers. You look up from your book as you see Hubert moving his feet, giving a weak kick. He is pulling his arms up to his chest and his face is drawn into a frown. You drop your book. Your hand brushes his cheek softly as you try to gently wake him from his nightmare.

“Hubert, I’m here for you. Everything is all right. Shhhh.” You softly whisper.

The dark mage startles from his sleep, his eyes wide. He looks about the room finally realizing he is within his own bedchambers. He looks very distressed, his hands trembling. You instinctively pull him into a hug, holding him tight against your chest as you lay gently on him.

“Breathe, just breathe.” You urge him, taking long slow loud breaths to have him match yours.

It takes a while before he finally begins to relax again. You know you can’t stand hunched over him much longer, so you walk around the bed to lie next to him on top of the covers. You pull him to face you as you card your fingers through his hair and encourage him to relax. The exhaustion of his body takes over and he falls asleep again.

You awaken after a short nap due to movement under your arm. Opening your eyes you find Hubert looking back at you. Instinctively you slowly pull your arm from across his chest back to yourself.

“Did you rest well?” you whisper.

Hubert rolls onto his back. “Surprisingly, yes. My headache is gone.”

You quietly slide out of the bed, straightening your clothing. Making your way to the other side, you return the chair to its proper place and gather your things.

“Do you often accompany your patients in their beds?” Hubert asks, a slight sneer in his voice.

“Never.” You reply. “You are a…special case.” You reply, closing the door behind you.

-----------------

The next day Hubert is much more coherent at the morning strategy meeting. Once the meeting adjournes, the Emperor requests that the two of you remain behind.

“I notice an improvement today.” Edelgard smiles at the Minister of the Imperial Household.

“Of course, My Lady. I refuse to disappoint you.” He respectfully bows.

“We are scheduled today from 10pm until 3am. Granted, 5 hours is not much for the average person, but to Hubert’s tortured soul it is quite the luxury.” You quip, causing Edelgard to giggle.

The dark mage scowls in your general direction. You both excuse yourselves as the Emperor has another appointment to attend. You join him as he heads toward his office.

“Was it so horrible to rest yesterday? Do you not feel some improvement?” You inquire.

“You were witness to my sleep. It is anything but restful.” He grumbles.

“Which is currently the point of my assisting you.” You respond in a logical manner.

“If there is nothing further you require, I have significantly less time to complete my duties. I bid you good day.” Hubert sniffs as he heads to his office.

-----------------

You are waiting outside of Hubert’s quarters for his arrival. He arrives 15 minutes late. There is no apology for his tardiness. He completes his routine for preparing for bed and finally pulls his covers up to his chin, only to stare at you. You’ve brought knitting to keep you company, a quiet pastime.

“Do you need a diversion?” You ask softly.

“No.” He responds, continuing to stare daggers at you.

A few minutes later he decides to stare at the ceiling.

“Why do you do this?” Hubert wonders aloud.

“For your health of course. Sleep is extremely important. Your body needs the rest, so does your mind. It affects your nervous system, your immune system. All creatures need sleep.” You answer matter of factly patting the back of his hand.

“Why do you care?” he asks.

“I’ve come to know everyone very closely. You are my work family and my friends. I would be devastated should anyone die from something I can possibly prevent. Just as you protect us all from spies, assassinations, poisoning, and the like, I do the same protecting everyone from sickness, injuries, infections etcetera. There is only one Hubert Von Vestra. I would like to see him live past the end of the war. “

“Hmpf.” Is his only response.

Hubert closes his eyes as you quietly knit. His breathing slows as he drifts into the land of Nod. You silently slip from his room to check on the other occupants of the Imperial Palace to find that it is a rather quiet night and there are no disturbances amongst the Strike Force. You return to Hubert’s quarters to see him still resting, which is surprising. You know he is a light sleeper, however even if he woke up, he remained in bed. You count that as a victory. As 3am nears, you head out to retrieve a carafe and water, preparing coffee in his parlor just at the time he should awaken.

“One moment.” Is heard coming from the door to his bedroom. A few minutes later Hubert emerges from his bedroom dressed for work and looking shockingly more alert than you have seen him in the past two weeks.

“Thank you for doing this for yourself as well as for the rest of us. I will see you again this evening.” You articulated as you gather your personal items to leave. You swear you almost hear a soft ‘thank you.’ from Hubert as he locks his door and heads to his office.

-----------------

Hubert is working until midnight tonight, never a regular schedule for himself, his duties rule his sleep schedule. You leave Ferdinand’s quarters in time to head to the kitchen and obtain a cup of coffee before you must meet with the dark mage. Ferdinand sleeps well most of the time, however as the war becomes more brutal and savage, he is plagued with nightmares more frequently. After you were called to his room this night, he finally agreed to take a small sleeping potion. The thought of dark circles under his bright and shining eyes is like having storm clouds blocking the sun. He is the source of the Strike Force’s positive energy. They need him brightly shining in the lead, a beacon of hope.

Your arrival at Hubert’s door is matched with his. His posture is much improved, not hunched over barely able to stand. He greets you with a nod and waves you into his quarters. You pat his shoulder as you walk past him. He prepares for bed and once he is under the covers calls you into his bedroom. He has already placed the chair in its normal spot, close to the head of his bed. Taking your seat you place your hand on top of his. His hand does not move.

“You keep touching me. Why do you do that?” Hubert asks, staring at the ceiling.

“It is another one of the basic needs of humans. Some need it more than others. Certainly you have observed in battle, when the Professor is encouraging Caspar in the middle of a fight, if Caspar receives a simple pat on the head, he can rush forth taking out several squads of enemies at an amazing pace. When Bernadetta is extremely anxious, sitting next to her with a leg or shoulder touching her, she visibly relaxes. Emperor Edelgard relaxes with gentle hugs. Ferdinand prefers a one armed hug when being comforted through a tough time. The professor responds to hand holding and shoulder touching. Dorothea gets herself anxious and worked up sometimes, then only a full squeezing hug can get her to settle enough to speak with her.

“I was not aware of such needs, nor of your detailed observations of our team members.”

“I must admit, you are my most difficult patient in this regard.” You smile softly.

“Explain.” He says flatly.

“Beyond contact with our Emperor, you do not touch others nor does anyone touch you.” You begin. “Even when contact with another is made, it is not skin to skin, always to clothing, always with gloves. Certainly your upbringing, family history, interpersonal relationships, work schedules, work agenda and severe lack of personal time factors into this.

When one is in the infirmary, healers constantly touch the patients. Verbal reassurance is good, physical touch is required, and is extremely reassuring. When a patient is unconscious, the body still reacts to touch. When Petra was heavily injured a few battles ago, Dorothea was there for hours holding her hand, stroking her cheek. The body does react, relaxes. Somewhere in her brain, she knows someone is there for her and she needs to get better in order to rejoin them. Unconscious patients still tense up, faces furrow. Touch causes them to relax, leading the body to focus on healing.

On the battlefield, I am shocked at the condition I have found a fallen person, yet they are still alive, simply because someone else is there with them, touching them, encouraging them to hang on to that precious thread of life for yet a moment longer. That comrade being there has performed a miracle. There is no other way to explain it. Reason magic is cast through verbal incantations, physical movement, mental intentions. Healing magic is through touch, with the exception of physic, because no rule is absolute. “

“Hmmm. Continue.” Hubert watches your face closely, turning his palm to yours, taking your smaller hand into his without thinking.

“Now my observation of you, Hubert. I have heard you say that you are unworthy of anyone being close to you based on your workings below the surface, your bloodstained hands, duties you have carried out in the darkness. I disagree. You are not to judge your own worthiness. Only others can perform that task. They will base it on their own life, experiences, beliefs, circumstances. If they cannot understand you and appreciate you for who you are, all of you, then perhaps they are not worthy of you. The Emperor knows you, knows what you do for her, suspects what is done outside of her vision, yet she is there for you, accepting you for who you are, as you are. Over these years of war, all of the members of our team have learned more about you, perhaps scratching beyond the surface of you, yet they are still here. They still support you, believe in you, rely on you. They find you worthy of their protection, their support. Tell me of one person in the Strike Force that has not helped you in a battle. I certainly can tell you about how many I have had to piece together after they shielded you from certain death. I have lost count of how many holes I have patched up on you are a result of your protecting each and every one of them.”

“Physical Attributes are difficult to overcome…” he argues.

You laugh at the thought. “Have you never heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Beauty is found within? To me, my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. Having so many children her stomach never went back to being flat and fashionable. She has spots on her face from being in the sun. Wrinkles in her hands from working them hard for many years. Her nose is crooked because she broke it as a child and never had it properly healed. Most people on the street would look at her as the typical matronly old woman, but to me she is more beautiful than any goddess, I would not change a thing. My sister was being courted by Bernard, her now husband. Bernard was awkward, tall and lanky. At first I noticed he was all knees and elbows, his teeth seemed to be too large for his mouth. But my sister loved him, and he loved her. When I last saw him, I saw a tall handsome man that would do anything for my sister, just looking at him you could tell he adores her. When he looks at my sister, his smile shines bright and I consider him beautiful inside and out. Ask Dorothea how far good looks will get you. She is a beautiful woman, however knows that beauty fades. She has found someone who loves her for her. That when she is old and wrinkled and gray, they will be there for her and she for them. “

“I have much to think about. Good night.” Hubert says softly closing his eyes.

You remain holding his hand until it relaxes which is not until he is in a deep sleep. He sleeps quietly and restfully. A very good rest for him indeed.

The next morning Hubert joins you in his parlor, sitting at the table with you as you silently enjoy the first cup of morning coffee together.

As you pour a refill, you finally break the silence. “Today we prepare, early tomorrow we leave for yet another battle. I know you will not sleep tonight, if you wish to try, even for an hour or two, I would be happy to help.”

Hubert briefly scowls then retracts it to a minor frown. “I can sleep on my own. I do not need you as a crutch.”

You place your hand atop his now white gloved hand. “I am not a crutch, I am an enforcer.” You smile.

--------------------

You are too busy the night before leaving to think about Hubert. Ferdinand has a particularly strong night terror. Bernadetta had a major panic attack. Linhardt could not find a comfortable place to sleep, wandering and laying about all over the palace. You would find him in the middle of a pathway, taking him to a more secluded and safer place to sleep only for him to move to a different poor location for slumber. You finished bottling your last batch of healing potions and pots of salves for minor wounds and burns. You begin filling the wagon with as much bandages and bindings as you could stuff into it. You and the other healers riding in the wagon will take turns sleeping, resting now because once battle starts, you would not sleep for perhaps two days or more.

A few more days on the road, scouts have returned stating there is a small army preventing anyone from passing, apparently a mix of kingdom and church soldiers. A brief strategy meeting is held and soon the caravans realign, with the support teams like yours toward the rear. A few more hours at a slow pace as they advance to the enemy location. Now explosions are heard as the mages on both sides attack, the infantry running in behind the Cavalry and the fliers doing their best to snipe from the skies. Your group hurriedly throws together the medical tent, secures a location for water, sets up cots, supplies. Ready for patients, you head out toward the field of battle. Those that are no longer fit to fight are sent your direction. You assess their condition, stop severe bleeding and direct them to the correct tent location. You see a Meteor spell go off in the middle of the battle, sincerely hoping that is Dorothea and not the enemy that is the source. You watch Linhardt in the back lines, healing who he can, keeping them on their feet. You want to go out there and help, but you remain at your post.

The battle continues until sunset. You are surrounded by patients. Fortunately nobody in the Strike Force has serious injuries, or at least they have not yet made it to the medical tent. You finish cleaning the slicing wounds of a very young, perhaps 17 year old, soldier’s arms before sewing the sides of the wounds back together and then casting a healing spell on them to remove the final trace of any visible wound.

“(Y/n)” a deep voice comes from behind you.

“How are you doing Hubert? Is there somewhere I am needed?” You ask, looking absolutely exhausted.

“Do you have any healing spells left in you?” He asks, a frown on his brow.

“No, That was the last one.” You say, cleaning up your surgical tools. Before you look up, he takes hold of your arm and warps you to a tent.

“Now it is your turn. You are in desperate need of sleep. There are buckets and towels to wash up and your bags are there to change clothes.”

“I sleep in the medical tent in case they need me…” you state, confused by this.

“You are out of magic, let those that can heal remain. I will step outside, you will clean up and prepare for bed.” Hubert exits, closing the tent flap behind him.

In spite of the rudeness, it feels nice to wash the blood and grime off and change into clean dry clothing not soaked in someone else’s blood. Sleeping away from the injured is much much quieter, you think as you change into bedclothes and sit on the cot.

“Done.” You call out.

Hubert enters the tent, bringing a tin cup full of water as well as a waterskin. “You must drink this. You have not had a drink since the first patients came in.”

“I’ve been preoccupied.” You gratefully take the cup and drinking the entire contents quickly.

“Now rest. Go to sleep.” His voice is quite assertive.

“Stay with me a bit?” You plead.

“Demanding woman!” He huffs, pulling the chair next to the bed to sit close by.

“Is everyone okay? Have they been checked out?” you ask.

Hubert grumbles. “Of course they are. Many have been asleep for four hours or more. Now hush.”

You suddenly sit up. “Have I stolen your bed? I can’t do that to you.”

He hesitantly touches your shoulder. “You need to rest. Stop fighting me.”

You frown and lie back down. “Could you lie next to me for a bit? Its…chilly.” You begin scooting to one side of the cot, until it threatens to tip over from having the weight all on one side.

“You are relentless.” He frowns.

You nod and lift the cover for him to join you. He lies on his back, you on your side facing him. You lift his arm bringing it around your back as you place your head and arm on his chest. Without opening your eyes you tell him, “Yes this is necessary.” You settle in next to him and quickly relax, falling asleep.

#fe3h x reader #fe3h #hubert von vestra #fe16 #feth #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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kazoo5480 · 4 years ago

Link

Killian startled awake to music coming from his living room, it was jarring as the loft was usually quiet and Emma was usually next to him soft and warm. He got up rubbing his hand over his face and put some pants on. Walking towards his kitchen, the scene he walked into was not one he expected.

Emma was in one of his tee shirts and nothing else, swaying her hips and dancing. August next to her doing the same, what he assumed was breakfast left in a heap of ingredients forgotten for the moment on the island. Fleetwood Macs “Little Lies” blasting out of the speakers, the two of them wore the biggest grins he had ever seen.

Killian leaned against the doorframe while he watched August spin her around his kitchen and sang the chorus with her dancing like no one would be watching them. It was an odd picture to take in, but he loved it so much.

August brought out that carefree side of Emma out-one he had yet to see, and he was absolutely delighted by it. She looked gorgeous, laughing, and smiling- her blonde curls swinging and bouncing with her movements.

“Good morning” he called out, and August winked at him, and continued singing and smiled totally unashamed and swung his hips as he began to beat the eggs. Emma’s cheeks were flushed pink, and she grinned at him, dancing her way towards him, throwing her arms around his neck, and sang to him as she swayed her hips. He leaned down and kissed her and released her bouncing form.

“Hi babe. We are making breakfast” she said, and danced her way back towards August, his tee shirt swaying dangerously close to the bottom of her ass. Killian struggled to peel his eyes off of his girlfriend and grabbed a cup of coffee seating himself at the island.

“I can see that. I am enjoying the entertainment very much- both of you” and August blew a kiss at him, and turned to sing to Emma, using the whisk like a microphone. Killian shook his head, his body shaking in laughter.

She looked so happy; her smile alone might crack her face in half. Toast popped up and Emma shimmied her way to grab it, swaying as she spread butter on the slices, tossing the plate in his oven.

The song ended, only for Whitney Houston to start up, the familiar synth beat of “how will I know” and her melodic voice coming out. August started singing, obviously they each had portions they sang, Killian thought laughing.

Emma grabbed her spatula, turned and began singing to Killian.

“How will I know if he really loves me?

I say a prayer with every heartbeat,

I fall in love whenever we meet,

I' m asking you what you know about these things!”

Killian swallowed thickly and winked at her with a beatific smile on his lips, and she spun continuing to sing with August who watched and smiled at her dance towards him.

August grabbed Emma’s hand dragging her back to the island twirling and dipping her. Emma’s head thrown back in laughter, her curls nearly brushing the floor, and August released her breaking out into full song and dance while Emma stirred the eggs. Killian felt like an intruder on this, but it washed over him- they were including him. His heart cracked wide open, this was Emma letting him in.

He knew the words, so he surprised both Emma and August by standing, and jumping into song with them, pretending to play the saxophone in the background while August and Emma impersonated Whitney’s portion. August laughed hysterically, and nodded at him- welcoming him into the fold of their pseudo family. Killian grinned like an idiot until the song faded.

Emma plated the eggs up and swayed to their playlist as she stood and ate. She watched Killian and August laugh back and forth, she felt something in her chest twitch unnaturally. August’s surprise text at the crack of dawn about a breakfast dance party had made her world light up, and watching the two of them made it pound in her chest.

August wanted to meet Killian, spend time with him in his space on his turf, and see her life- or what it might look like. Emma was touched, and it had been far too long since she let loose for their classic breakfast dance parties.

She rinsed her plate and left them to wash up and by the time she got back they were in a debate over music. Emma laughed, danced along to “A-Ha” while she washed and rinsed their plates. Killian stood and walked to her, kissing her on the neck. “I’m heading to open the shop love” and she grinned and nodded, kissing him quickly and watched him walk out.

August began drying the plates, placing them back in their places, as Killian came out pulling his jumpsuit up, a cigarette behind his ear. August’s eyes widened, and he shot Emma a look. “Jesus Christ, no wonder you fell for him in a day” and she scoffed slapping his arm.

“Hands off, Jones is mine” and August laughed at her.

Killian shook his head, lighting his smoke up while he opened the garage door and the entry door. He looked at the list, he had a few in the lot for pickup today, but they were done. So, he turned his own music on, and grabbed his clip board, figuring out what else he needed to get for Emma’s bug, and the sedan he was repairing.

He noticed Augusts Porsche out in the lot and shook his head. Emma and August appeared a few minutes later fully dressed and made up, and she kissed him goodbye as they made their way out to Augusts car.

Killian had just turned “fat bottomed girls” up on his radio, as Graham pulled in the lot in his wrangler. August lowered the soft top on his car and peeled out of the lot with Emma’s laugh carrying on the wind, Killian smiling after them. Graham got out and came towards Killian shaking his head.

“Humbert, it’s too early for you to look like you have a stick up your arse- Sheriff or not” Killian said laughing at his friend and stamped out his cigarette.

“Who was that?” Graham asked him sternly.

“A guest” Killian replied cryptically, just to mess with his friend.

Graham sighed, “seriously Jones.”

“August. Emma’s brother and best friend” Killian said smirking. “Why? Do you plan to arrest him this early for going slightly over the speed limit when no one in town is even awake aside from us?” and laughed walking away from Graham.

Graham rolled his eyes “you’re not making this easy man” and Killian shrugged.

Facing his friend, he lit up another smoke, and sat on a stool. “You want to talk, then talk Humbert.”

Graham stood across from him. “I’ve been a real asshole, I apologized to Emma, but I can see she obviously doesn’t care one way or the other that I apologized.”

Killian took in his rigid posture and inhaled the smoke deeply. “Why do you care if she accepts your apology for being a wanker? She is my girlfriend, not yours mate” Killian said exhaling.

He was trying to get under Grahams skin, a tested method that usually yielded results in deciphering Grahams mood swings.

Grahams eyes widened at that comment. Bulls eye, Killian thought.

Killian’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and Graham balked at him. “Your girlfriend!? That’s just bloody perfect, isn’t it?”

“Emma seems to think so, so yes” Killian said back, poking the bear, he was spoiling for a fight and he smirked as “black betty” came on the filling the garage and his adrenaline began pumping.

Graham groaned, “Yeah? well maybe Emma is…”

Killian was up so fast and had Graham by the neck of his shirt and against the door before Graham could even say it. Killian’s eyes flashed murderous, “You will want to tread lightly before those words leave your mouth Sheriff” Killian shouted an inch away from Grahams face, his forearm across Grahams windpipe.

Killian released his hold “Whatever your issues with her and I are, deal with it mate!” Killian barked out, and Graham glared at him.

Graham looked deadly, rubbing his throat he pulled back his arm, his sucker punch cracking Killian’s cheekbone before Killian had a moment to register what had just happened. He looked at his friend and charged at him, tackling him to the ground landing halfway into the lot.

He punched Graham in the mouth, and the sheriff spat blood across the ground. “Fuck you Jonesy. You don’t deserve a girl like that, and you bloody well know it!” Grahams accent stronger than he may have ever heard it sober.

Killian punched him again in mouth, and Graham flipped him landing a punch to Killian’s jaw. They walloped each other hard, anywhere they could reach that was open on the other. Killian felt blood running down his nose, and he spit it on the ground where it joined a mix of both of their blood splatters.

August pulled into the lot, and killed the engine blocking the exit as he took in the scene unfolding him. Emma looked up, and she stopped talking mid sentence, and August smiled at her. “Interesting scene” he mused and exited the car leaning against the hood. Emma leaned next to him, watching Killian beat the shit out of the Sherriff, and she would bet that it was over her.

August grinned at her, “Two men fighting over you? Pft. I expected more” he teased, and she elbowed him.

“Should I do something?” she asked watching them, and August grabbed her elbow “Nope. Let’s see what Jones is working with.” Neither man noticing Emma and August sitting on the hood of his Porsche watching them pummel each other.

“Get it out Humbert. Say it!” Killian shouted at him, and cracked him a punch to the ribs, feeling the skin on his knuckles split open. Graham landed a punch to his lower back. “The fucking kidneys you arse. What the fuck!” Killian shouted as Graham tried to chokehold him. Killian slammed the back of his head against Grahams face and heard the telltale crunch of a broken nose.

Graham released him, blood running down his chin. “You fucking wanker. You couldn’t just leave the lass alone, you had to put your filthy hands all over her. You don’t deserve a girl like that you fucking arsehole, fucking anything with a cunny up the entire eastern seaboard!” Graham growled out cracking Killian in his side with his fist.

Killian doubled over, hand on his knees, spitting blood as the pain radiated through his ribs. “That’s precious Humbert. I love her you asshole. What the fuck would you know about it? You wouldn’t know love at first sight if it bit you in the bloody pecker” he shouted breathing heavy.

Killian looked up from the blood covered cement, noticing the look on Grahams face he bent his neck to follow Grahams line of sight and spotted Emma and August.

“Bloody Hell” he mumbled. Emma’s eyes were wide, and August looked like he was about to eat a bowl of popcorn and settle in for a show.

Killian watched her step forward with deliberation, her beautiful face filled with anger as she gave him a once over and got right in Grahams face. “What the hell is your problem Graham? I don’t care if you think I am a whore, but you don’t have any right to hit your friend you asshole!” She shouted and her fist connected with the sheriff’s eye, and Graham hit the cement hard landing on his ass and elbows, groaning in pain.

August began laughing hysterically, and Emma shouted at him to shut up. Killian collapsed on the cement, and began laughing too, his lip split, and it bloody hurt. It was only too perfect that this small woman cold cocked the sheriff who lay feet away from him, hand over his eye.

August strolled up, extending his hand to Killian, and helped him to his feet. He stood over Graham, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Hello Sherriff” he sing songed, and Graham looked up at the stranger with a deadly glare. “I see you aren’t in a welcoming mood” he said, striding back to Emma and Killian’s sides.

Killian bent and cracked his neck and stepped forward extending his hand to Graham. Graham glared at him, his eyes flashing murderously, but he grasped Killian’s hand and he helped his friend to his feet. “Feel better Sherriff?” He said seriously to Graham. Graham looked at Emma and August and back to him, giving a stiff nod.

Killian nodded, “Good. Now get your ass out of my lot before I have to call your deputy to pull Emma off of you.” Graham looked at Emma, with something like regret all over his face.

“Emma...” Graham started, and she glared at him.

“Go! Now!” She shouted, her voice cracking, and Graham headed toward his Jeep as August moved his car. Killian watched Graham peel out of the lot, his tires squealing.

“Come on Rocky, let’s clean you up” August said leading Killian inside and Emma shutting the gate to the lot. August looked him over, “you got a first aid kit Jones?” and Killian pointed at the red case on the wall. August grabbed it, and grabbed some things out, wiping at Killian’s cuts. Killian winced when he dabbed his lip with an alcohol wipe.

“Bloody Christ!” He jerked, and August apologized and continued. Killian watched Emma pace back and forth, and as she grabbed the hose and began spraying the cement, rinsing the blood away. She didn’t come inside until she was done and slid the garage door down. When she met his eyes, she looked mad.

“Emma, I’m sorry. He had it coming though” and Emma nodded silently.

“Well, I am deeply entertained, here I thought this was a quiet sleepy town, and Emma would be fine here, away from trouble. Who knew you were the cause of the trouble” August teased her.

Emma nailed her brother with a glare. “Not another word August.” She sat on a stool and looked at Killian, guilt washing over her face as she looked at him, her green eyes sad.

“You really thought it was a good idea to beat the shit out of the Sherriff?” she accused him. “I told you I didn’t want you to fight with your friend, his opinion doesn’t matter” she said.

Killian shrugged, and winced as August cleaned a cut on his brow. “Alright stop nightingale, bloody hell.” And August tossed the wipe sitting on the stool by Emma.

“What shall we do with him” August asked Emma, and she smirked.

“Sandbag?” and August shook his head in disagreement.

“Waterboard?” August replied and Emma shook her head at him.

“Confinement?” Emma said smiling.

“Short Shackles?” August countered, and she nodded grinning.

Killian watched them, “are you two talking about bloody torturing the Sherriff? You two are completely mental!” he said, and Emma giggled.

“Just joking Killian” August said and bent to put Killian’s arm over his shoulder, his arm wrapping around Killian’s waist, and he got him up the stairs into the loft. “We need to work on his sense of humor Swan” August said to Emma, and Killian rolled his eyes.

Emma went to start the shower, then helped Killian undo his jumpsuit, as August steadied him while she stripped him. He heard August whistle lowly as he walked straight into the bathroom shutting the door behind him.

“Stop gawking Aug” she said and gathered Killian’s bloody clothes taking them down the hall to the washer and started it.

August leaned against the kitchen island eyeing her, “You are absolutely sure you want me to leave you here?” and she nodded.

“He does have an ass you could bounce a quarter off of” he laughed, and Emma laughed.

“Told you!” Emma said gleefully.

August nodded, “Do I need to worry about the Sherriff? Is he going to pull me over on my way out of town?” and Emma wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so” she said.

“And you? Will I be wiring bail money to Jones? I have his account information already, maybe I should throw a few grand in there in case” he joked.

Emma rolled her eyes. “This is absolutely not how today was supposed to go” she said shaking some Tylenol into her hand and filled a glass with water for Killian.

August walked to her, pulling her into his chest. “Oh? You mean you didn’t foresee your boyfriend pummeling the town Sherriff in defense of your honor? Lets not forget the part where he said he loved you at first sight” and he felt Emma bury her face further into his chest. He smoothed her hair, holding her tight. “It’s ok Emma, really.” She leaned back and looked at him skeptically.

“Don’t run. I am telling you not to. I see it all over your face, you don’t want to drive two friends apart, and you’re looking to remove yourself from the equation. Do you know how destroyed Killian will be if you do that? And you? You are in just as deep as him” he said softly pushing against her walls.

She scoffed, and he grasped her arms not letting her go. “August” she said exasperated, and he nodded.

“I like him, he is crazy over you, and how could you not relish in the idea of two hot men with matching accents fighting over you? I would be bathing in that attention if it were me!” He laughed.

Emma rolled her eyes, “I just don’t want conflict; it is messy, and I don’t need that.”

August spotted Killian walking down the hall towards them and eyed him, and Killian stopped and leaned against the wall listening.

“I love you Em, I will be here for you if there is a dumpster fire at the end, but I have to tell you I don’t think that is what this is, or where this is going.” He said and stroked her cheek.

“You don’t?” she asked him in a soft voice.

“No, my dear, I don’t. It’s time you let Killian be your morning dance partner, and I will visit whenever you want me to so long as the Sherriff won’t be writing me a speeding ticket or keep a holding cell empty for me” Emma laughed and nodded.

August almost asked her if she loved Killian, but knowing he was listening wasn’t fair to Emma. He wouldn’t betray Emma like that, and he probably knew before Emma even realized it herself. “Hey slugger!” he called out to Killian.

Emma spun and saw Killian. She grabbed the Tylenol and the water, and he winced as he smiled and kissed her, “Thanks” he said and moved to the couch.

August clapped his hands together, “Well as you have Florence Nightingale here for your sponge baths, I do believe I should get going.” Emma looked up at him sadly.

“No Swan.” August said without Emma having to say a word. Her lip trembled, and August wiggled his finger, “you manipulative little duckling. No.”

Emma stood and wrapped her arms around her brother, “I love you. Will you come back soon?” and he nodded embracing her. She went to the kitchen and was grabbing more water.

He bent next to Killian “Take care of her” he said lowly.

Killian nodded, “I will. Thank you.”

August stared at him with an arrogant smirk “I’m serious. Take care of her or let her go. Don’t hurt her, or those torture methods will be used on you and the Sherriff both. I am holding you responsible for her wellbeing entirely.”

Killian swallowed, “the theatrics are overkill” and August smiled clapping him on the shoulder. “See you soon Jones” and waved, closing the doors behind him.

August made his way down the steps, spotting her bug, and slipped the envelope out of his coat pocket, placing it into her glove compartment, it should be enough he thought and quietly closed the door of her car, exiting the shop.

Emma watched him walk to his car and waved to him from the balcony as he backed out. He blew her a kiss, and she blew one back. She was going to miss him; she hated the goodbyes with him.

She looked at Killian who had a bag of peas draped across his eyes and cheek. She lightly rubbed his head, “are you ok?” she asked.

“Aye.” Killian responded.

“Thank you. For defending me, and August, just thank you. I am sorry you and Graham fought” she said grimly.

Killian removed the makeshift ice pack and looked at her, he cheek bruised. “I knew what I was doing Emma. It had to come out or we weren’t going to move forward” and she looked at him curiously.

“You purposefully antagonized Graham? Why?” she asked incredulously.

“We have been friends for a long time. I knew his jealousy ran deep, so I needled him until he blew, let it out. Him and I will patch it up, but it had to happen. I just didn’t know how you were involved exactly until today” he said and placed the peas back over his eye and cheek.

Emma heard her phone chirp; she went to it and saw Ruby texted her.

RL: “What the fuck Emma?” Emma sighed, and dialed.

“Emma?” Ruby asked.

“Hey Ruby” she replied.

“What is going on? Graham looks like someone hit him with a bat, said it was you. What happened?” She asked.

Emma sighed, “August and I came back from grabbing coffee, and saw Jones and the Sherriff pummeling each other in the lot. Graham said some shit about me, so I cracked him in the face for it. I only hit him once, Jones did the rest.”

Ruby cackled, “Ah, you were just the thing I was hoping for. We were too boring before” she said excitedly.

Emma huffed out a laugh “I live to be your entertainment Ruby.”

“As you should. So August is gone?” She sounded sad Emma noticed.

“Yeah, just left, but he will visit soon” Emma said.

“Ok, well I will drop by with some food later for you guys” Ruby said, and Emma agreed hanging up.

“So, the whole town knows?” Killian asked.

“Appears that way” Emma sighed.

“It isn’t your fault Emma” he said.

“Feels like it is” she said.

“Why duckling?” he asked.

Emma blinked. “Augusts nickname?”

“You can tell me only if you want to” he said.

“We were both scrawny kids when we ran. He used to read me the ugly duckling when I was smaller, he said I was the ugly duckling who believed she was a Swan. I legally changed my name to Swan when I was 18. The nickname stuck” she said quietly.

“I see. I think you’re beautiful” he mused.

She smiled, he was bloodied, and cut, defending her, he loved her. She recognized the unfamiliar twitch in her heart. She was in love with him too, but she wasn’t going to say that if she could help it. She leaned down next to him and placed a light kiss to his other cheek, and he smirked. “Get some sleep” she said, and he nodded.

Emma grabbed her purse off the stool in the garage and walked into town. She was going to find the Sherriff right now and end this today.

She went into the diner, and Ruby looked up surprised. “Hey slugger” she laughed at Emma.

“I need Grahams address” Emma said.

“He is at the station” and pointed kitty corner where his Jeep was.

“See you later, text first” she smirked.

“We need a sheriff, remember that” Ruby called out as she walked out.

Emma climbed the stairs and pushed open the door. “Graham” she called out.

“Here” came his voice and he was laid on a cot in a holding cell with an eye pack over his eye. Emma smiled satisfactorily.

“We are going to talk; I am going to talk, and you are going to listen. Understood?” She asked, and he nodded not moving the ice pack but struggled as he sat up.

“I don’t know why you hate me so much, or why you went after Killian today; you have been an asshole since the moment that you saw us together, and it is none of your business. I want to know why, because your friend is hurting, and you caused it. You really want to throw your best friend away like that? she said.

Graham lowered the ice pack, his orbital bone purple and swelling. He looked at her, “you have a wicked right hook” he said, Emma laughed.

“I was-am jealous. But you didn’t deserve me to say anything about you, I don’t even know you. I just knew there was something about you the moment I saw you. Killian- he doesn’t deserve you Emma” he said sounding resolved.

“You don’t even know me Graham. I am flattered, but I am with Killian, I am happy with Killian. I don’t know what else to say” she said.

He nodded, raising the ice pack back up and laid back down. “Well, that is my problem, not yours Emma” he said.

“Are you going to fix it with Killian? You guys cant be that dumb to fight over a stranger and throw away your friendship” she said.

“Jones and I will fix it Emma. You and I, no hard feeling I hope” and she laughed sarcastically in response.

“Sure, right” she said.

Graham looked over at her, “I am serious Emma. I deserved your punch. I am putting my feelings aside; I just haven’t felt this way in a really long time, you caught me off guard and I had hoped that maybe I made you feel something too. I just hope we can be friends at some point if you’re staying” he said and turned his head back away from her.

“Are you going to continue talking shit about me? Because that isn’t fair to me, or to Killian” she said resolutely.

“I have no hard feelings over anything today with either of you. I mean it. Going forward I wont either, but with a hook like that I suggest you apply for the deputy position” he said quietly with a smirk.

Emma sat next to him on the cot and nudged him in his rib which made him wince, “okay. Apology accepted. And no thanks on the job” she said and put her hand over his.

Graham smiled at her “he is a lucky guy. I hope he knows that.”

“He does, I am lucky too. He surprised me just as much.” She stood, walking out of the station without waiting for his response, heading back towards the garage.

Her phone chirped; it was August. “Look in your glovebox. JIC.”

Emma made her way toward her car and popped the glovebox open. She opened the white envelope, counted it and laughed.

“Five grand? You think I need bail money just in case?” she replied.

“You never know, and I didn’t want you stuck. Love you.”

She smiled and typed out “I love you too. Visit soon!”

She made her way up to the loft, and Killian was sound asleep. She went to the closet and tucked the envelope in one of her bags and zipped the pocket. August was always looking out, she thought and smiled. She grabbed her book and went to sit on the balcony while Killian slept it off.

Killian woke up, and everything hurt. He pushed himself up and noticed Emma out on the balcony. He smiled, despite the ache over his entire body it was worth it. She was absolutely worth it. He thought to this morning, to Augusts words to her. He wanted to be her morning dance partner, see that side of her, and he was fine with sharing her with August like that.

Killian also understood by August acknowledging him earlier, letting him hear what he said, he was saying to both of them. Screw Graham and his self-righteousness, he thought. He made his way out the door and sat next to Emma, and she smiled up at him, cupping his cheek.

“Are you ok?” She asked as he sat and kissed him lightly, trying to avoid the cut on his lip. He nodded at her. Emma swallowed, he looked incredibly sexy all roughed up. She swung her legs over and stood grabbing his hand. Killian looked at her confused, “Come on Rocky” and led him toward the bedroom.

She dropped her skirt and pulled her top up and off. Killian’s eyes darkened, and he winced when he accidentally bit the cut on his lip. Emma stepped into his arms, kissing all the cuts and bruises on his face. He caressed her back, and unhooked her bra, his hands trailing down her exposed skin, and she cupped his cheek, kissing him as soft as she could.

He moaned, and his hands flexed and cupped her ass, lifting her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Emma tried to not grab onto him too hard but giggled when he dropped her on the mattress.

She leaned up on her elbows watching him strip off his tee shirt and drop his jeans and boxer briefs to the floor, chewing her lip as she watched. He knelt over her, his blue eyes burning into hers and leaned down to kiss her, his tongue stroking hers, as she gently cupped his jaw.

He leaned back, pulling her panties clear off of her, and she nudged him to lay back, hovering over him on her forearms, her long blonde curls a curtain around his face as she kissed him. He tangled his fingers in the curls, bringing her closer, licking deeper into her mouth as his free hand gripped her narrow hip.

She moaned softly and he pulled back looking into her green eyes, he saw fire and lust breathing in them as she gazed at him. “I need you” she said, and he swallowed, nodding.

He nudged her hip and she scooted back, hovering over his cock, and she gripped it in her small hand, angling him before she sank down on him. Killian groaned at the sensation, how wet she was, and Emma leaned forward keeping her weight off of his chest and kissed him, sliding up and down his cock.

“Fuck” he said tightening his grip on her neck and hip. She kissed him lightly and her eyes stayed on his, he was lost in her, the sensation of her surrounding him, flooding through him. He leaned up, his cock hardened, stiffer than ever before.

The pressure point that Emma hit had so much blood flowing to his dick that his brain began to feel fuzzy, his head light. “Emma” he growled out and she moaned in response speeding her pace.

He traced his palm over her stomach, his thumb rubbing at her clit just above where they were joined, and Emma’s body shook, a tremor shot through her.

Emma was lost in the sensation; she was trying to hold back her weight not placing any more of it on him than what was needed. His voice cracked as he cried her name and she arched, hitting that spot deep inside her, and he continued pushing her higher with every swipe of his thumb.

Emma bit her lip, and began squeezing her tits, rolling her nipples as she rode him hard. She felt her orgasm coming, it crackling through her veins like a riptide, and Killian pinched her clit and she exploded screaming out his name as it took over her whole body.

Emma clamped down around him with her orgasm, her legs shaking and her hands gripping her tits as she slowed her pace, and his rushed out tearing through him. It was so intense it sent his hips arching into her, his hands holding her still as he pulsed deep inside of her.

He heaved for air, his lungs burning. Emma looked wrecked, and so bloody gorgeous. Her nipples rosy from her attention, the swells bouncing as she gasped for air. She rose off of him and laid next to him on her side smiling.

He rolled to the side, and he stroked her cheek. She placed her hand over his and turned it kissing his palm. He smiled and just laid there looking at her, don’t say it Jones, don’t do it, “I love you.” Emma smiled at him widely and her cheeks grew pink.

He knew by the look in her face she felt it too, but he was ok with her not saying it back. When she finally let him win her heart, it would be worth the wait to hear those words spill from her perfect lips. He kissed her forehead and pulled the sheet over them as they laid there staring at each other, wide smiles and she snuggled into him gently. He kissed her hair, letting exhaustion claim him.

Emma sat there, not surprised completely, but still a little shocked. He just said it, like it was the easiest thing in the world. He never stopped surprising her, and she believed him when he said those words to her.

She felt the same, but it wasn’t as easy for her, he seemed to understand that. The fact that he didn’t look sad or disappointed at her lack of ability to be as open made her fall even harder for him. She snuggled as close as she could without hurting him and felt Killian kiss her hair before she closed her eyes for a nap.

@hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @cassy1511 @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere @mcakers @chamomileandmint @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld

#emma swan #august booth #killian jones #graham humbert #ruby lucas #once upon a time #ouat

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ineverlookavvay · 4 years ago

Text

good enough

After Michael experiences some self-doubt, Alex reassures him that he is enough

Fill for Kinktober Day 13: Body Worship

cw: mental health issues - Michael has a brief moment of panic/self-doubt at the beginning and is reassured via sex

Read it on Ao3

It came on suddenly. They were sitting watching some terrible network television show, Alex’s head cradled in Michael’s lap, when one of the characters was in an accident and no one around had the right blood type including the love interest, leading to a cliff-hanger of the absolute worst-written type. And suddenly, while a terrible pop song played over the end credits, Michael’s chest started to feel tight.

He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, biting his lip and trying to ignore the feeling. It was just a stupid tv show, and there was nothing to feel anxious or unworthy about, and yet. It was just going to be one of those nights, and Michael was stuck here at Alex’s, with only the flask of acetone in his car and nothing harder than the beers Alex kept stocked in his fridge. He shifted uncomfortably, and Alex picked his head up, looking concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Michael nodded, pasting on a smile. “Great.” He swallowed the last third of the beer he’d been nursing and nudged Alex up. “I’m gonna get another beer.”

When he got back to the living room, holding a colder beer that wasn’t going to be nearly enough for him to pretend his thoughts weren’t spiraling just a bit, the tv was off and Alex was sitting up, looking worried.

Michael sat down, taking a swig of the beer and trying not to seem perturbed. Alex raised an eyebrow, and Michael sighed. “It’s just the show, when she couldn’t help him—”

Alex bit back a laugh. “You’re upset because she couldn’t help him…on the tv show?”

“Yeah—no—it’s just—if you were hurt like that, I couldn’t save you either. I can’t do the things another human could do for you—I couldn’t donate blood, or a kidney—I don’t know if I even have kidneys—“

“I think you have kidneys,” Alex cut in, “and Max can literally bring people back from the dead, so—”

“—and I’m not Max.” Michael sighed. “I can’t help you with the alien stuff, and I can’t be human for you, and it just seems pointless.”

Alex lurched forward, catching Michael’s wrist before he could take another swig from the beer. “What exactly are you saying?”

“What part of me is good enough for you?”

Alex closed his eyes, letting out a breath and dropping his grip from Michael’s wrist. When he opened his eyes again, he looked tired, and relieved. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”

Michael hesitated, then shook his head. “But I would understand if—I just want you to have someone who can save you from—”

“Soap opera cliff hangers?” Alex was smiling a little, and Michael tried to smile back, but his face felt too tight.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Alex watched him, a look of determination sweeping across his face. “Okay,” he said slowly, “Okay. You’re going to put down the beer, and we’re going to go into the bedroom.”

Michael frowned. “Alex, are you listening to anything I’m saying?”

“Yes.” Alex looked him directly in the eyes, unwavering, and Michael put the beer down on the coffee table obediently. “And I heard the parts you aren’t saying, too, and every part of you is good enough for me. So come to the bedroom and let me show you that.”

Alex held out his hand. Michael wanted to leave, he wanted to walk it off or drink it off, and hate himself until he felt empty, and then come crawling back; he wanted to stay. He took Alex’s hand and let Alex lead him into his bedroom.

He pressed Michael down onto the edge of the bed, sitting down beside him. “You are good enough, okay? It doesn’t matter that you’re not human, it doesn’t matter that you can’t save me from injury—you save me in other ways.”

Michael tried hard to smile. Alex was looking at him with this soft, caring expression, and Michael didn’t entirely know what to do with it—he felt like he was caught on a stage, under a spotlight, and he’d forgotten all of his lines.

Alex cupped Michael’s cheeks between his hands, and gently kissed him. “You know what I think about the first time I kiss you each day?” he asked, and Michael shook his head. “All the times I wanted to kiss you and I couldn’t. How lucky I am.” Michael scoffed and Alex smiled, leaning forward and kissing Michael’s forehead, then brushing his lips over each of Michael’s eyes, laughing lightly when Michael blinked up at him. “I’m being serious.”

Michael tried to breathe evenly as Alex pressed a kiss to his cheek, marking a line down Michael’s throat with his lips. Michael closed his eyes, licking his lips, focusing on the feeling of Alex’s soft kisses, on Alex’s hand smoothing up and down his back. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve any of it—not the way a human would, someone who was there for Alex completely, someone who actually belonged there—but he couldn’t make himself leave.

Alex abruptly changed the pattern of his kisses, sucking hard on the spot just under Michael’s ear, and then again on the skin where his neck met his shoulder until the skin started to bruise. Alex smoothed his hand over the bruise, looking completely enamored with it, breathing heavily. He tugged at Michael’s shirt, and Michael let him pull it off and toss it on the floor.

“It’s fully unfair,” Alex said, pressing kisses to Michael’s chest, slowly caressing his skin before touching his lips to it, “how good you always look like this.”

Michael swallowed. He didn’t know if Alex was talking about the hickey or the shirtlessness or all of it, and the praise went straight to his head, straight to his cock. He still felt tight, wound up, like he was imposing himself somehow, like he was tricking Alex into wanting him instead of something better. But Alex’s hands on his skin were soft, and reassuring, and when he licked across Michael’s nipple, Michael couldn’t stop himself from shivering.

Alex pressed Michael back until he was reclining on his elbows, and licked lines down Michael’s stomach, tracing the outlines of muscles and ribs, like he was reminding Michael of every visible part of him. He tucked his fingers around the waistband of Michael’s jeans, pulling them roughly away from Michael’s skin so that he could flick his tongue on the skin underneath, teasing at something more.

Michael was swiftly getting hard, the tension starting to bleed out of his chest, out of his shoulders, his focus on Alex, who was fully focused on him.

Alex pressed kisses to Michael’s stomach, cupping his cock through his jeans and looking up at Michael’s face lasciviously. “Feels just as good as any human,” he said, squeezing at Michael’s clothed cock gently until Michael moaned. “Better, even.”

Michael laughed hoarsely and Alex unbuttoned Michael’s jeans, leaning down to pull the zipper off with his teeth. Michael choked on his laugh, arousal overwhelming everything else.

He lifted his ass off the bed so that Alex could slip his jeans and briefs off him, letting them fall onto the floor with his shirt. It was strange, being so naked while Alex was still completely clothed, but strange in a good way, like Alex was so fixed on him that he had just forgotten to undress himself. Michael almost wanted to squirm under the attention, except that Alex wanted him to be still, Alex wanted him to relax and focus, and Michael wanted Alex to be happy, to have everything he wanted.

Alex scooted over on the bed, dragging Michael’s legs up until he was fully on the mattress, still leaning on his elbows, his head hovering over Alex’s pillows. Alex kneeled between Michael’s legs.

“You’re perfect,” Alex said, running his fingers lightly along one of Michael’s legs, from ankle to thigh, stopping just before he hit the crease between thigh and pelvis. “No one else is this perfect.”

Michael laughed again in a choked off way, trying to think of something to say, something that would undermine Alex’s uncomfortably positive words. Alex shot him a look and he closed his mouth, groaning instead when Alex replaced his hands with his mouth, kissing his way up Michael’s leg. Alex sucked on the skin at the top of Michael’s thigh, the sensation drawing all of Michael’s attention, focusing on the feeling of Alex’s tongue and lips and teeth on his skin.

Alex moved up, kissing towards the base of Michael’s cock, licking gently at it, in a way that almost tickled. He licked soft, slow lines up Michael’s cock, touching his tongue to every part of it before sucking lightly at the tip, his hands soothing lines over Michael’s thighs. Michael whined, watching Alex suck at the tip of his cock.

Too soon, Alex was pulling back, grinning up at Michael, spit or precum or both making his lips shiny. “Turn over,” he said gently, and Michael drew his knees up to his chest before rolling on his stomach and spreading his legs on either side of Alex again, pillowing his head on his hands. Alex hummed appreciatively.

Alex ran his fingers over Michael’s legs again, alternating between feather light and harder touches, stopping just before his ass. Michael was almost expecting it when he repeated the motions with his tongue, but he was still surprised how good it felt, having attention spent on his thighs, on the place where his legs met his ass—places they usually didn’t spend time on.

The touches disappeared and Michael tingled with anticipation. Alex’s hands smoothed over Michael’s ass, pulling and caressing. Michael inhaled quickly as fingertips ran down the crease of his ass, ghosting over his hole. Alex’s tongue followed his fingers, laving over Michael’s skin, licking gently and then more insistently at his hole. Michael thrust his hips unintentionally, rubbing his cock against the bed as Alex licked him, thrusting his tongue shallowly inside of Michael.

“Stay still,” Alex said, pulling away slightly as Michael moaned especially loudly. Michael did as asked, kept himself completely still even though he wanted to keep grinding against the bed, even though he wanted to turn around and see what Alex was doing. He found out when Alex returned, just a few minutes later, laying himself down on top of Michael so Michael could feel the touch of their skin from head to toe, Alex’s cock poking suggestively at his ass.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Alex said, his voice low and inches from Michael’s ear, “and you can use your incredibly useful and hot alien powers to get the lube out of the nightstand, and hold yourself open while I open you up.”

Michael made a sound somewhere between a moan and a laugh. It was reassuring, and hot, and he wanted nothing more than Alex inside him as quickly as possible. He slid the drawer open with his mind and pulled out the lube, floating it back to Alex, who hummed and peeled himself slowly off of Michael’s back.

It was harder, using his powers on his own body, but not impossible, and Michael concentrated, holding his legs and his ass wide for Alex, keeping his muscles taut, more than he could by will alone as Alex pressed a wet finger inside of him.

It still surprised Michael, how Alex knew what he would need, how focusing like this would center him, would make things quiet inside of him. It was the concentration, and the methodical way Alex was fingering him, progressively getting deeper, keeping his thrusts at a set pace. Michael breathed, staying completely still even as Alex added more fingers and brushed against his prostate, even as his cock leaked against the bed, even as he wanted to tell Alex to hurry the fuck up and get inside of him.

As if he could read Michael’s mind, Alex pulled out his fingers and crawled up Michael’s body on the bed again, pressing kisses up his spine. “You can relax,” he said, sounding as affected as Michael felt, and Michael felt the tip of Alex’s cock nudging against him before he pressed in, slowly, making sure Michael felt every inch.

Alex groaned when he was completely inside of Michael, and Michael echoed it, exhaling forcefully. With Alex pressed against his back he couldn’t move much, could only take it as Alex shifted his hips and thrust into Michael.

Michael pulled his hands out from under his head, bracing them on the bed on either side of his head instead, looking for leverage. Alex reached over and pressed his hands against Michael’s, twisting their fingers together, sharing the leverage as he fucked Michael slowly.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Alex said softly, kissing Michael’s neck, and Michael whined. “You’re more than enough, Michael.”

Michael couldn’t think of anything to reply that didn’t sound sappy as fuck, so he kept quiet except for the moans he couldn’t hold back. Alex pressed his hands into the mattress and lifted himself slightly more, thrusting deeper, pumping his hips more quickly. Michael’s cock slid against the bed, and it wouldn’t have been enough except that Alex had the perfect angle for his cock to continually brush Michael’s prostate; except that Michael felt overwhelmed in the best way, so much of their skin touching he almost couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began; except that Michael slipped closer to the edge with every soft word of praise Alex whispered against his neck.

“So. Fucking. Good,” Alex said, panting between each word as he thrust hard into Michael, and Michael’s answering moan turned into a yell as he came, hips grinding into the mattress and back against Alex. Alex gasped as Michael instinctively clenched down on him, and his rhythm stuttered, thrusts quick and hard. He moaned into Michael’s ear as he came, too, spilling inside Michael.

They lay there, breathing hard, barely moving, and Michael realized all of the panic was gone, all of the feeling useless and not good enough, all of it swept away under the force of Alex’s response. It was good—better than what a bottle had ever given him.

Alex slowly pulled himself away from Michael, slipping out of Michael and collapsing on the bed next to him, rolling Michael onto his side so his head pillowed on Alex’s chest.

“Guess I should have crises of faith more often,” Michael said, his voice shaking slightly.

“You know I’m not just saying it, right?” Alex asked, “You really are amazing.” Michael smiled, keeping himself from shrugging, since he knew it would make Alex unhappy. “Plus, I like that I can help you like that,” Alex continued. “I like that loving you helps.”

Michael’s smile was more real this time. “I like that, too,” he said softly, and curled more tightly against Alex’s chest.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my writing #smut and feelings

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songtoyou · 5 years ago

Text

PRomance - Part One

Paring: Chris Evans x Famous Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,436

Warnings: Slight mention and jabs at Hiddleswift.

Description: Chris needs some good press. He convinces one of his closest friends to partake in a PRomance.

A/N: This idea came to me one night. It is pure fiction as I do not know what Chris believes when it comes to politics and policy issues.

I do not permit my work to be to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Note: Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

When it comes to overseeing a celeb’s image, implementing public relation arrangements can help manage the release and spread of information about a celebrity. Establishing a “PROmance” with another star is not about love but creating a higher and stronger profile towards the media and public. However, one has to be careful when entering into at PROmance. Fans and the media will be able to detect if it is all for show. The key to any successful PROmance is not to overplay or underplay one’s hand. Just look at how bad Hiddleswift turned out. While that pair made a lot of sense on paper, the way the two went about their “coupling” was too public and too staged. There was no balance when it came to Hiddleswift. They were also in your face with the paparazzi catching their first kiss, to meeting the parents, along with their romantic getaway to Rome. Does anyone remember the 4th of July pics at Taylor’s Rhode Island beach home? Tom still is not able to live that down with his ‘I Heart TS’ tank top.

If Chris were to partake in a PROmance, he and his team would have to make sure there would be no cracks showing. Chris was no stranger to using PR to help provide a cleaner image for himself. Thankfully, being attached to Marvel and Captain America had improved his image. He was no longer viewed as the playboy who got kicked out of a club. Now Chris was considered “family-friendly.”

On the one hand, Chris was excited to move on to the next chapter of his career. On the other hand, with his Marvel contracted complete, Chris no longer had the cushion of the company’s PR machine. He still had so much to do and achieve in his life. Chris always liked his freedom and being able to come and go whenever and wherever he pleased.

Since the beginning of his new venture with A Starting Point, Chris was able to garner press for the project, particularly about which politicians he interviewed for the website. When certain politicians posted pictures on their social media with Chris, some fans were upset. They did not like that Chris was giving politicians like Senators Ted Cruz and Marsha Blackburn or Congressman Dan Crenshaw publicity and allowing them to share their ultra-right-wing policies. Chris was getting called out left and right on Twitter. He was worried ASP was already in jeopardy before people had the chance to see what the website was supposed to accomplish. The backlash was pretty harsh that not even a cute picture of Dodge could help calm the storm.

Chris knew partaking in a PROmance was a quick way to divert the negative attention he received onto something else for fans to focus on and talk about on social media. With his PR representative, Megan, at his side, the two looked over a list of potential actresses willing to partake in this arrangement.

“It’s too bad Ana is already in a PR relationship with Affleck,” Chris teased. “She’d been a good choice since I already know her. Plus, we had surprisingly good chemistry on the press tour for Knives Out.”

“Yeah, Ana would have been a good pick. But what about her?” suggested Megan as she held up a picture of Lily James. “She’s pretty and played Cinderella in the live-action version. You’d have yourself a Disney princess. Captain America and Cinderella. The headlines practically write themselves.”

Chris thought about it as he looked at Lily’s picture. She was pretty but did not know anything about her. It was too much of a gamble to start a PR relationship with someone he did not know.

“In this day and age of social media, fans want something that comes off more transparent and honest. I don’t know this girl, and the fans will see right through it as they did with Lily Collins. Plus, another Lily? Really? No, I need someone who the fans are used to being around me and who won’t hassle her or make her feel intimidated. She needs to have a higher profile than me. That way, fans won’t accuse her of using me for fame. I think I have to go with Y/N.”

“Y/N! Really? Do you honestly think she would accept? She doesn’t normally do PROmances. Plus, you guys are close friends. Wouldn’t it be weird?” asked Megan.

“No, it shouldn’t be weird. Why would it be weird? Some fans ship us together.”

“It’s just… you two…have always had this ‘will they, won’t they’ vibe. It is weird how you would want to pursue a PROmance with Y/N and not a true romance. Am I wrong?” Megan raised another question.

“You aren’t wrong. But Y/N is one of my best friends. I know she will be there for me if I need and for this situation, I need her. I can make the call to Y/N personally,” Chris suggested, to which Megan agreed. She was not going to press the issue of her client’s harboring feelings for one of his closest friends.

But for Chris, this was business, and Y/N would understand. He sent her a quick text asking if she was available to FaceTime him. When a message from Y/N popped, Chris accepted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked him.

“Hi. Nothing much. I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.”

“Everything is going well. I have been busy with the talk show, which has been amazing. I’m surprised it has been a pretty easy transition from scripted television to the new daytime talk show host on the scene,” you shared with Chris.

He was not surprised that you were succeeding in your new venture. You had a personality that was likable and relatable. People enjoyed watching you. That was why you had been successful for so many years.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” you asked, and Chris could not hold back his sigh.

“Oh…I’m doing alright.”

“What’s with that sigh?”

“Look, I am going to propose something to you, and…first and foremost…please know that I love and respect you. I would never pressure you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing. But please know that what I am about to ask is because I desperately need your help,” Chris explained.

You felt your stomach drop at how sullen Chris was being. Your mind went straight to the worse scenario.

“Chris,” you spoke up and added, “Is Everything okay? You’re not like, sick, are you? You don’t need a kidney or anything, right?”

“What! No!” Chris then barked out a laugh. “I’m not dying, Y/N. Good Lord! Your mind sometimes…”

“Well, freaking eh man. You scared me there for a second,” you laughed. You were glad that it was not anything too serious.

“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” Chris began and quickly added, “I need you to partake in a…PROmance with me.”

There was a blank look on your face.

“First of all, what the hell is a PROmance?” you inquired skeptically.

“PROmance…it’s an amalgamation of PR and romance,” Chris clarified.

“Okay. Second, why are you still doing the PR dating bullshit? They never end up well. Hello, do I need to remind you of Hiddleswift.”

“Y/N, I would not ask you for this if I didn’t seriously need your help. It’s just a few outings here and there. We control the narrative. There won’t be any cracks for the fans or the media to see. We’ll be subtle about this situation. Alright? I need something else to distract everyone from the bad press ASP has been getting lately. Stepping out with you, a person people genuinely like, that will help take the edge of things.”

You could not hold back a groan. It was not like you were not prone to PR ploys in the past. You just made sure to steer clear of PR couplings as they never interested you and were a waste of time. However, Chris was one of your best friends, and you could tell he needed support. If it were a few outings with some assigned paparazzi tailing you both, then it would not be the worst thing in the world. As Chris said, you both would be in control of the narrative.

With a sigh, you told Chris, “Okay, I’ll do it. Let’s hope; for both of our sakes, this doesn’t end in a disaster. Both of our reputations and credibility are on the line.”

“We’re not going to fuck this up. We’re going to be smart about this whole thing. You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. I got you.”

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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quietmyfearswith · 5 years ago

Text

narcissist {carter baizen x fem!reader} 1/3

status — ongoing series

warnings — cursing, mentions of drug and alcohol intake/abuse, attempt at angst

word count (without the lyrics) — 1,995 words

a/n — so this is for @baezen’s the other guys writing challenge and my prompt was alcohol is the only constant in my life; the prompt will be italicized and bolded btw ! i was listening to narcissist by no rome and thought that the song fits perfectly with carter baizen and the prompt as well fit well into the story ,, listen to the song here if u want ,, feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :> y/f/n = your full name

masterlist | series masterlist

Took a picture of all my flaws

Or you can take a video on your phone

And you know that I would talk

But I'm too afraid to pick you up and go home

The ding of the elevator signaled me to step out of the elevator, and I did with a sigh — frustrated with the website that was opened up on my phone. Upon entering the penthouse, I headed for the master bedroom where the subject of the article is currently passed out on his bed.

Knocking three times, “Carter, you up?” My question was met with silence; despite this I still went ahead and entered his room. Clothes laying on the ground, a few beer bottles and shot glasses on the coffee table near his television, and his keys and wallets placed on his bedside table — the indications of how he had spent the night before; by hopping on from bar to bar and purchasing any kind of drink that had alcohol in it. At least this time he’s alone and not someone he had just slept with.

Approaching the side of the bed, I shook his back that was not facing me, hoping that this would wake him up from his deep slumber. He groggily groaned, turning to look at me with his sleepy and tired state, “Oh hey, Y/N. What time is it?”

I put my down and phone bag on the ottoman that was at the foot of his bed and looked into his walk-in closet for an outfit that would make him look decent and not look like he got dragged and passed around by people, “Well it’s way past time for you to correct your actions since people have already been talking about the stunt you pulled.”

This probably confused him as he sat up and tried to rub off the exhaustion he felt, “Can you be more clear with what you meant with that? Also, I really am curious about what time it is.” Going back from Carter’s closet — which happens to be made of glass and mirrors — and placing the down his outfit which consisted of a two piece Burberry suit that consists of a checkered maroon suit with a matching plain, maroon slacks and laying it down on the bed, “The time now is 9:28 in the morning,” I reached for my phone and shoved it to him with the website I have previously read still opened, “And this is what I meant when I implied that damage control was too late.”

His shirtless upper body hit the back of the headboard as he began reading the content of my phone, “Spotted, Carter Baizen spending his earned wealth at various bars and clubs late last night. You may have previously known him for being the resident bad, playboy that you see in your school, but now just when it was starting to look like he was getting his act together, he reverts back to how he once was when he was a reckless teenager. I guess some old habits just die hard, don't they? You know you love me, xoxo, gossip girl.”

I laughed at the disgusted face Carter made after he finished reading what had got me annoyed earlier, “Well, at least I’m living my life well. Not compared to this jackass loser who keeps on documenting and reporting the lives of others since theirs is probably uneventful.”

I'm feeling Dazed like a magazine

Finding my own sanity

Wishing it'll all go away

Now we're smoking off the balcony

You're telling me profanities

Maybe it was never okay

“For fuck’s sake, Carter, do you not see the bigger issue here? It’s not just about how there is some loser out there talking about the life of others. But it’s about you how you are living your life! You are now a CEO, a fucking CEO! I don’t think business partners would be eager to make transactions and ventures with someone who acts as if they had just gotten their license and are now going out every chance they can to enjoy this privilege!” Carter looked at me coldly and was about to argue back but I continued to give him my two cents, “On top of that, I think as well that the frequency of your alcohol, and possible drug intake is alarming, as well. And it's gotten to the extent that I feel like you should be seeing a professional to help you cope with this.”

I concluded my statement of concern and alarm by folding my arms together and looked at him seriously. Carter stood up and headed for the bathroom, I followed him and leaned by the door as he was washing up his face and waited for his reply. He stared at me through the mirror as he was drying his face, “I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I think you’re overreacting a little bit.”

I threw my hands up and scoffed at disbelief, “Seriously, Carter? Do you not recall the various times wherein I had to pick up your drunk or high ass — and by the way, there are some instances wherein you’re both high and drunk — from whatever bar you were misspending your money on.”

He turned around to look at me and crossed his arms — in annoyance, I presume — and fought back, “So what if I get blackout drunk a few times? It happens to the best of us! Have you not enjoyed yourself completely and just passed out from exhaustion from spending a night out? Oh wait, you probably haven’t! Which explains why you’re so fucking uptight!”

With one hand massaging my temples, I managed to remind him in a calm tone, “Did you forget what happened two months ago?”

345, that's where we stayed

She told me I'm a narcissist doing it again

Took a bunch of acid and she told me, "not again"

Now I've gotta tell her that I'm lovin' her friends

345, that's where we stayed

She told me I'm a narcissist doing it again

Took a bunch of acid and she told me, "not again"

Now I've gotta tell her that I'm lovin' her friends

My dreams of riding a unicorn while eating cake was suddenly interrupted when a loud ringing woke me up. Stretching my hand and patting for my phone on the bedside table. Recognizing how I had an incoming call, I swiped to accept it even though I was not awake or aware enough to check who was calling. “Hello?”

“Is this Ms. Y/F/N?” a woman asked as soon as I greeted her, I took a second to check my phone and only then did I notice how it was an unknown number that called me, “Yes, this is she, who’s asking?” My bones had suddenly become frigid in anticipating what the girl on the other end had to tell me. “Well your information was listed on one of our customer’s wallet and we had to call and let you know that Carter Baizen has passed out from drinking which resulted in him collapsing on the floor, head first.”

I let out a grunt as I put the call in speaker mode and got off the bed to throw over a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, “Was he with anyone when he was drinking? And is he unconscious? And what address is your bar, by the way?” I was already outside my apartment and headed for my parked car by the time she had replied and given me the information I asked for.

Curse words and frustrated mumbles were leaving my lips as I was driving around the city, hoping to get to Carter faster and in time to prevent any unfortunate event from happening. Upon arriving at the bar, I was already opening my door before I had even parked my car and stormed inside the establishment.

“Hey, I was called in earlier for a patron who passed out and fell head first?” I approached a girl who was mopping floors near the entrance door, she nodded and told me that she was the one who called me and led me to where Carter was. They were kind enough to move him from the floor and lay him down on one of the booths.

I quickly took in his state — there were a few buttons of his long-sleeved polo that were unbuttoned, there were faint traces of alcohol in his shirt and face, while there was also a bit of blood residue from his head wound as a result of collapsing from the floor. “Thank you for calling me right away and for taking care of him, but I was wondering if you or another staff would be willing to help me bring him to my car?” the girl nodded and called for one of their male employees to help me bring Carter in.

That night was probably the most nervous and anxious I have ever felt; knowing that Carter could possibly be facing health problems from drinking too much and hitting his head. Seeing him this way has always affected me and has made me feel responsible for his well-being — not only because I was hired as his assistant, but because I was the only one who managed to tolerate and be with him for this long time.

Fortunately enough, the doctor ruled that there was nothing currently wrong with his liver and kidney following his night of over intoxication. But that didn’t mean that he was completely out of the woods; I was warned of how if he spends more nights like this, it could probably lead to the failure of his organs to properly function. To add even more salt to that wound, he informed me about how Carter hitting his head was also dangerous and that it could have resulted in a serious head injury — but that wasn’t the case in this scenario. The medical official also told me that Carter was lucky for it did not lead to any complications and that he should be safe from it as long as he drinks responsibly and moderately to avoid these things from happening again.

And I've been seeing somebody

But I've not found a way to tell you

That I'm seeing somebody

There's not a nice way for me to say that

I've been seeing somebody

You know I want you to be happy

Since I'm seeing somebody

And then maybe we can get on with it

“You know, you don’t need to bring up what happened every time?” He said as he walked past me to grab his clothes and get dressed. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the ottoman as I stared at him, “I don’t need to? That’s where you’re wrong, Baizen. The only reason why I keep bringing it up is because — guess the fuck what — I’m the only person who gives a fuck about you! I’m the one you call every time your ass is too drunk to drive or when you’re high as the fucking clouds! Or if you can’t call, guess who’s name and number you have written down in your wallet? It’s mine! So yes, I bring it up every fucking time since I don’t want you to seize your night so fucking hard that you end up deceased the next day!” I angrily let out.

He was done dressing up by the time I had yelled out my grievances, “I’m sorry that I can’t stop myself from drinking or having a night out!” This unapologetic remark from him just angered me further, “Well then let me help you! Let a therapist or some other professional help you get through this! You don’t have to do it alone, Carter.” I reminded him as I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder, to show him how I was gonna guide him through this.

He pushed my hand away and walked towards his dresser and put on some cologne and began fixing his tie, “No, I don’t want your or anyone else’s help. Alcohol is the only constant in my life; it always has been and it always will be.” when these words have left his lips, I froze up in disbelief and hurt. I was there with him when he was struggling to establish himself as a businessman, saw his struggles and victories, and even outside of work I was the only who cared enough to make sure that he was fed and hydrated despite his busy schedule.

“What do you call me then?” I sadly asked him and this got him to stop his movements and turn to me. However before he could explain himself or go near me, I had already collected my things and headed to exit his room and suite, “Be at the office before 10:30 am, you have a meeting with representatives of the Eichner Enterprise at 10:30. The rest of your schedule will be emailed to you.”

#my writing #quietmyfearswith #baezen #togwc #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen x fem!reader #carter baizen series #ceo!carter baizen x reader #ceo!carter baizen x assistant!reader #ceo!carter baizen x assistant!fem!reader #gossip girl #sebastian stan fanfiction

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #365

“i’m numb to the pleasure, but still feel the pain”

Are there palm trees where you live? No. Do you own any Hello Kitty stuff? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite flavor of ice pop? Blue raspberry. Do you like animal print? What’s your favorite print? Not really. I think animal "print" only really looks nice on, well, animals. Does your dad have any facial hair? Yes. What do you think of foot tattoos? They're not my favorite, but some look nice. I myself wanna get "11121" (a Silent Hill 4 reference) "carved" onto the top of my feet. Do you like bugs or do they scare you? Some do. I've gotten more into them though as my passion for tarantulas expanded to other inverts, like mantises. Ever seen the movie Chernobyl Diaries? If so, did you like it? If not, do you want to see it? I haven't, but I'd be willing to watch it. I find the whole Chernobyl incident to be extremely fascinating, so I'd probably like it. Did your senior class in high school have a class trip? Where did you go? Bitch I wish. :/ Do you have an instagram account? What’s your username? Yeah, two: brittanymphotography and eldritch_obscura. Do you like Gir from Invader Zim? I think he's cute. Do you or would you ever own a gun? Why or why not? No thanks. If I'm not mistaken, I can't legally obtain one anyway because of my suicidal history. I'm fine with having like, pepper spray and a bat handy by the bed, lol. If it was offered for free by a professional, would you get your hair dyed platinum blonde? For FREE? Fuck yeah I'd try it. What do you normally order at Dunkin Donuts? A chocolate frosted donut, and sometimes a plain/cake one. Do you watch football? Favorite teams? No. What about WWE? Favorite wrestler? That's an even bigger no. Funniest thing you’ve ever heard a teacher say? Okay so this is hard to actually explain and it be funny. I had this amazing, kinda charismatically awkward history teacher in high school, and when talking about some legal stuff I can't remember, she deadass quoted "Without Me" by Eminem ("if the FCC won't let me be...") like so casually and everyone fucking died, just from knowing her and her personality. It was just very unexpected. Do you wear a lot of makeup? What do you think of girls who do? No. Girls can wear however much makeup they please. Do you have a savings account? Are you good at saving money? No. I can't really answer the second question because of me never having a steady flow of money. Would you rather have a relationship or casual flings? Relationship, 100%. I would never have a casual fling. Do you know anyone that’s part Native American? Yes. Who was your favorite Spice Girl? I remember none of them. Have you ever tried to poison someone? Yikes, no. Have you ever saved anyone from a fire? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I've had sudden spasms, but never a full-on seizure. Have you ever had an out-of-body experience? No. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever had a tooth pulled? No. Have you ever had pneumonia? I have not. Have you ever had tubes put in your ears? Yes, as a baby. Have you ever been shot with an arrow or bullet? Thank god no. Have you ever had kidney stones? No. Have you even been bitten by an venomous animal? No. Have you ever thought about being in the military? Fuck no. I wouldn't qualify, anyway. Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yeah. Have you ever used shrooms or any other hallucinogen? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? I can barely believe my tat appointment is almost here lakjsd;ajwlej;rwe What was the last song you heard? I'm currently listening to Motionless In White's synthwave edit of "Voices" they just put out. I looooove it. What time did you wake up today? Maybe like, 5:20? Is there a vase in the room you’re in? No. Have you recently been insulted? Yes. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? N O P E How many days a week do you work? I'm unemployed. Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Yes. What is your worst relationship quality? I obsess over the person probably leaving, so especially at the beginning, I'm paranoid and distrustful. I want to emphasize that I'm not the asshole that snoops through her partner's phone out of distrust, but still, the fear is just there. What was your most recent serious injury? A serious one? Man idk. I've had a lot or negligible and smaller ones, but a big one... *shrug* What were you most recently happy about? I was happy to see "synthwave" in this video title, haha. Are you a fan of cake? Oh yes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Is your town beautiful? Ew, no. Do you prefer the city or the country? THE COUNTRY. Have you ever witnessed an eclipse? Lots of lunar eclipses. Do you wear lipstick often? No. You’re going on a date with someone you like. What would you like to do? Considering the pandemic, probably just like... grab fast food and sit and eat at a park. That'd be cute. You’re hanging out with your best friend. What would you like to do? It'd be nice to get back to Avatar: The Last Airbender while hanging out with Doris (her beardie that I adore), too. Have you ever written or considered writing a play? No. Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Ha, me. To begin, I like all the "dark" stuff, I'm the unreligious one, the one with political beliefs unlike most of my family, I'm not doing what I should be... Why is your favorite movie your favorite movie? It's just a masterpiece. I love love love animals, African one especially, and I find it to be an amazing story of courage and dedication to family. Plus I shamelessly love all the songs, haha. What’s an odor you hate? GASOLINE. FUCK. What’s a sound you hate? Fingernails on a chalkboard. Or screech-y noises in general. If money was no issue, what would you like to do right now? I was initially gonna say go to Yellowstone, but fuck that hot weather this time of year. So, this brings us back to Venus' terrarium; I'd want to get a new one and better materials. What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I wouldn't say I'm "so good" at it, but I do take pride in my writing. What’s something you’d never ever dare to ask another person? Hm. Under ANY circumstance, I guess "are you pregnant?" There's almost like... no situation where I'd be comfortable asking somebody that. What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? We're not getting into that lmao. Do you know anyone who has a hearing deficit? No. What is one thing stopping you from becoming a veterinarian? I could never stand seeing so many hurt and dying animals and still be okay at the end of the day. Are there any opinions you used to have even a few years ago that you look back on and think, “I can’t believe I ever thought that way”? THERE ARE!!!!!!!!!!! A LOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The last time you cried, what was wrong? I fell and skinned my knees when stepping over this barrier Mom made to keep the damn dog out of the hallway and thus my room to fuck with the cat and eat his food. I previously twisted my ankle, fell backwards, and had one other accident with it despite moving stuff, and I didn't cry from pain, just massive frustration. I want this dog GONE. Do you like multi-choice tests or tests you have to write out? Multiple choice. Who last called you ‘beautiful’? Couldn't tell ya, bud. Have you ever caught a firefly? Yeah, I did that lots as a kid. Do you own any camouflage? No. What’s the stinkiest pet you’ve ever had? Uhhh I dunno. Have you ever been on the news? For what? No. Have you ever seen one of your friends get arrested? No. Do you put sprinkles on anything? No, I hate sprinkles. How do you like your steak? Medium well. Long hair on guys: yes or no? Yaaaaaaaas. Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? No. When was the last time you started a new medication? It's been a while. What is your favourite type of nut? Cashews, I think. Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? I'm so fuckin basic, like my genuine answer is Domino's lmaooo. Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Yeah, I loved that show. I even had the two video games; I was obsessed with the first one in particular. Do you know anyone who was adopted? Yes. Do your parents’ professions match their college degrees? No. Do you write shopping lists on paper or just remember it in your head? I don't do the shopping, so. But I would definitely need to write it down. Have you ever used a lawnmower? No. Have you ever consumed so much alcohol that you vomited? No. Can you tie balloons? No, actually. My hands are just too shaky. When was the last time you were at a pet store? A few weeks ago when we got rats for Venus. Ugh, it is SO overpriced; they come in a box of two, and as I feed her twice a month, it's honestly quite a bit of money. Like if I remember correctly, it's around $16. FOR TWO. SMALL. RATS. I've recommended we just buy them in bulk NOT from an overpriced chain pet store, but the problem with that is then we have *too* many, and the nutritional value of frozen rats apparently does degrade with time, so I don't want to feed my snake poor food. So it's just an annoying thing we have to do. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not like, an at-home one. I've been tested before surgery, but that was just a safety protocol. Does your ex still think about you? "The" ex, probably not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mom. What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia. Would you go down to see the Titanic if given the chance? Man, that's kinda tempting. Maybe. It'd be super cool. Have you ever seen the Hollywood sign in real life? No. Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they don't live here. Do you type the proper way? Have you ever typed on a manual typewriter? Yes to both. What was your maternal grandmother’s first name? Cecelia. Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''voices'' by motionless in white

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gluco-shield-pro · 4 years ago

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#Gluco Shield Pro

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miafic · 4 years ago

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zakk had been acting a little weird all evening. he got back from his doctor’s appointment in the late afternoon with a strange look on his face. of course, this had lucas majorly concerned, but zakk just said that he thought he still felt a little woozy from having some blood drawn.

lucas figured that zakk would feel better after he ate dinner, and he even made a point of cooking a pot roast to help, but zakk hardly touched it. he kept smiling this weird, sad smile and touching lucas’ cheek for a few seconds before wandering away, only to do it over again four or five minutes later. lucas didn’t like it at all.

once everything was cleaned up, zakk asked to watch game of thrones, and of course lucas said yes. lucas grabbed the remote and assumed his normal position on the couch, but zakk sat down on the complete opposite side. he stared down at his lap.

lucas didn’t turn the tv on, and he was about to ask what was happening when zakk quietly confessed, “i need to talk to you about something.”

“okay.” lucas sat forward, watching his husband unblinkingly.

“they did some blood work at my appointment today, and um...”

lucas’ stomach went cold.

“the doctor said bye and that a nurse would come by and tell me when i could go, but then he came back and was asking me all these questions about myself, and i thought it was weird, so i asked if everything was okay, and he said that some of my levels were off.” zakk looked up, and lucas could see the fear in his eyes. “he thinks something’s wrong with my kidneys.”

instinctively, lucas reached for zakk’s fingers. zakk leaned forward to bury his face in lucas’ chest. with his free hand, lucas wrapped zakk in a hug.

“i wasn’t gonna tell you, cause i knew you wouldn’t tell me if it was you, and it was like - it was like i got it for the first time, you know? why you do that. you’re trying to protect me.”

lucas pressed his lips together, steeled his jaw.

“but i couldn’t wait, and i’m sorry. i didn’t want to be alone.”

“i would rather,” lucas told him fervently, “wait a year with you than have you wait one day alone.”

zakk let out a soft sob.

“do you know that?”

“yeah,” he replied weakly.

“good.” lucas let go of zakk’s hand and used both of his arms to embrace him. he kissed the top of zakk’s head.

“i feel fine,” zakk added wetly. “i really feel okay. i hope he’s wrong. he said there’s, um. there’s a chance that it’s a minor issue and they can clear it up with antibiotics, but they’re taking it really seriously. they drew a little more blood, and they’re sending it to another lab. they said it’ll be like six days at the earliest...”

zakk cried a little bit harder. lucas kissed his hair again, feeling completely helpless.

“what if something serious is wrong with me?” zakk pleaded.

“then we deal with it.”

“what if i have to have dialysis or a transplant or something?”

“we’ll do whatever we need to so we can save your life.” lucas couldn’t bear the thought of zakk having to go through that, but he also couldn’t bear the thought of living without zakk.

“what about peace and purpose?”

“we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

zakk was quiet for a moment. his tears slowed and then stopped for the most part. then he whispered, “what if it’s cancer?”

lucas didn’t reply.

“and all my hair falls out, and i’m throwing up all the time, and i get really skinny?”

“then i’ll take care of you, and i’ll love you every day.”

“even if i’m ugly?” zakk asked, a fresh wave of sobs pouring out of him.

lucas felt his heart breaking. he held zakk closer. “if i got cancer and my hair fell out and i got really skinny and threw up a lot, would you still love me?”

“well, yeah,” zakk sniffled, smiling a little. he pulled back to look at lucas. “of course.”

“you didn’t even have to think about it,” lucas pointed out as he tucked a piece of zakk’s hair behind his ear. “that’s how i feel about you.”

“i’m evil when i’m sick,” zakk muttered. his face fell. “i don’t want to be mean to you. oh no, lucas, i’m such an ass!”

“it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine! you tell me yourself that it’s awful taking care of me for just a couple days when i have a cold!” he covered his face and crashed back into lucas’ chest. “please don’t let there be anything wrong with me. please, please, please...”

lucas shut his eyes and prayed, too. please, please, please...

#lucas' trauma 1.75 #lucas #zakk #tw #sun and moon #au

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goffilolo · 5 years ago

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Revival of Midoriya Izuku chapter 3

It’s been 84 years huh? As always the fanfic is up on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/52652386

also im aware of like some formatting issues with the fic when it comes to tumblr, so reading it on ao3 might be better if you particularly care about like italics and what not, but otherwise it’s all the same stuff.

“Move your ass Boom Boom Bitch, I wanna get there early!” shouted Izuku, as him and Bandit sat on rather stylish, but uncomfortable couch in the Bakugous’ living room that was probably worth more than both of them put together, which probably wasn’t even that much anyway since they’re both garbage, but it’s about the principle of the thing.

“Shut your mouth you Trash Twink, I’ll get there when I get there! And what the fuck are you doing in my house?” screamed Bakugou all the way from upstairs, although with his voice being as explosive as his quirk he might as well be standing right next to you considering the damage he does to everyone’s eardrums.

Speaking of hearing damage “Katsuki!!! Is that how you talk to our guest you rude brat?! Get over here!” exclaimed Aunt Mitsuki.

“Shut it old hag! Deku’s not a guest, he’s just an annoying cockroach that invites himself wherever he wants and does whatever he wants!” which is a fair point, considering Izuku has invited himself to Bakugou’s first day at UA for less than wholesome reasons. Some people might see it as the ultimate bitch slap to Bakugou’s ego (partially true), but for the most part it’s merely a testament of how far Izuku has come, considering he now only sees UA as a place where he can flirt with Tensei’s hot brother, rather than a means of accomplishing some bullshit dreams... But it’s not like Kacchan knows any of this, so he can fuck off.

If you were to ask Izuku what his deal with Bakugou was, he would reply “Best friends, duh” with enough sarcasm to last you the next ten years. If you were to press for any specifics his reply would be more along the lines of “I dunno, get the fuck out of my apartment” followed by having Trash Bandit sent after you. The bottom line was, his relationship with Bakugou was complicated, as were most thing in Izuku’s life, but that’s not unusual.

Izuku’s presence at the Bakugou household though? That’s quite unusual, yet more likely than you’d think.

And although the screaming match between the two Bakugous was ever so entertaining Izuku had places to be, and guys to seduce, so “Leave it Auntie” he exclaims in a dismissive manner “We don’t want to rile him up too much, otherwise he ain’t gonna get that 30-day chip from the anger management that he’s been gunnin’ for” he adds half-jokingly.

“I know, I know” she says “But you’d think he would act a little nicer by now, after all these months of therapy.”

“Wouldn’t expect miracles if I were you Auntie, you know what the say; Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ” replies the boy with a shiteating grin as he motions towards Bakugou descending down the stairs, not missing the way Mitsuki flinched ever so slightly at his rather obnoxious comment.

“And to think you used to be such a nice boy yourself, I used to always tell your mother how great it would’ve been if Katsuki was more like you” she says in a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and regret.

“Yeah well, considering the shit I got for being nice , I think from now on I’d rather be a bastard and then some” exclaimed Izuku as he got up from the couch with Bandit in tow and made his way towards Bakugou. The other boy was getting ready to leave as well and his excitement for the day was concealed even more poorly than his mother’s discomfort at the current conversation “Have a good one Auntie!”

And with that, the two teenagers and one (1) sheep were on their way.

“Kacchan please , not everything is about you” said Izuku exasperatedly, hurrying over to the only empty seat on the train.

“Like hell it isn’t! This was supposed to be MY DAY, my first day at the school of my fucking dreams, and you’re trying to ruin it by following me around dressed like a dollar stripper!” replied Bakugou in a whisper-scream. He may have anger issues but he wasn’t a dumbass and the two of them were already drawing enough attention as it was. It wasn’t exactly easy to remain unnoticed on a train while carrying a green sheep; a task which fell on Bakugou, because Izuku was a weak-noodle-arm-bitch.

“First of all, I’m flattered that you think I’m worth a dollar” said the weak-noodle-arm-bitch in question “And second of all, this is my best outfit.” Said best outfit consisted of a worn out tank top that had THE HOES written on it in what once was a glittery pink; a pair of booty shorts with ENEMY OF STATE hand stitched onto the backside and rainbow patterned knee socks. The look was completed with a pair of pink platform crocs, because Izuku had standards ... and because he was short.

“God I hate you” murmured Bakugou.

“Don’t I know it Kacchan?”

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.

It wasn’t until they actually reached the gates of the school that Bakugou had a thought; one that he probably should’ve had before they even left his house, but having a coherent thought while carrying a sheep and bickering with the sheep’s owner about whether the sheep should be referred to as a dog or not is in all fairness not possible.

“They won’t let you in” he said, voicing the sudden epiphany.

“Sure they will” replied Izuku.

“Oh yeah? How? Deku, you don’t fuckin’ go to this school, you don’t go to ANY school!” shouted Bakugou, because they were no longer on the train, therefore arguing with a lunatic stripper looking guy was now acceptable.

Izuku for the most part did not have a problem with that, because not only did he love having petty fights with people, he also loved proving them wrong, especially when everyone and their grandma accuses him of being a high school drop out.

“Shinjuku Metropolitan would beg to differ” he says, dropping the metaphorical bomb on the unsuspecting dipshit that is his childhood friend, after which he continues to walk, crossing the gates of UA High like he owns the damn place.

After about a minute of Bakugou standing frozen in shock, he finally snapped out of it when Bandit decided to start chewing on his uniform “Oi, hold the fuck up!” screamed the blond as he followed Izuku inside, while the sheep was being dragged along like a betrayed ragdoll “Did you just say Shinjuku Metropolitan?!”

“Kacchan, you know I can’t hold you, you’re too heavy” replies the other teen, while pointedly ignoring Bakugou’s question and the looks he’s been getting from the students.

“Don’t change the subject shitty Deku! How the fuck did your ass get into a top non-hero high school in the whole damn Tokyo you bitch?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“I fuckin’ swear to God-”

“Do it! Pull the trigger piglet!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Their pointless quarrel, which was on a steady way into becoming a straight up brawl (Izuku having already pulled out his axe and lighted a cigarette using one of Bakugou’s warning explosions) came to a stop when they were interrupted by one of UA’s teachers, although in Izuku’s opinion she made a wrong career choice, considering being a Dominatrix probably paid more.

On another note, when someone asks you ‘what’s going on?’ that doesn’t mean they’re actually interested in whatever is happening at the moment, it means ‘stop’, therefore Izuku’s answer to that question, which usually involves something along the lines of “You see, I’m small, horny and full of rage, and I have no outlet for these emotions” is rarely appreciated. That is not to say that the lack of appreciation is going to stop him from spawning whatever dumb shit comes to his mind when faced with the judgement from authority figures. If anything it makes everything worse.

“That’s just how we flirt” replied the teen instead, all the while looking THE Pro-Hero Midnight dead in the eye and putting out his cigarette on Bakugou’s uniform jacket. Bakugou, for the most part was unable to even be mad at the cigarette burn considering he was busy recovering from being metaphorically punched in the kidneys by that line.

“And why aren’t you wearing uniform?” she asks suspiciously, pointing at Izuku’s attire.

“Oh, I don’t go here” he replied casually.

“Then pray tell , why are you in this school?”

“To get laid”

“TO WHAT?!” screamed Bakugou in surprise.

At this point Midnight took out her phone (no, her costume doesn’t have pockets, please don’t ask where she keeps it) and clicked on one of three contacts she keeps on her speed dial.

“Principal Nedzu, we got a situation…”

After telling Bakugou not to worry and that he will see him later in class, Izuku was dragged to the principal’s office by Midnight.

On the way there he tried cracking up another joke, telling her that his safe word was ‘avocado’. She did not appreciate that one either. For those of you wondering what happened to Bandit, the sheep ended up following Bakugou, much to the blond’s dismay.

Now, being sent to a principal’s office, especially of a school that you don’t even attend is usually a sign that you have royally fucked up. Not for Izuku though, because he had a plan! Contrary to the common belief, Izuku is not dumb. The fall didn’t kill off any of his brain cells, only his ability to give a shit, which made life much easier since he no longer had to worry about things like: people’s opinions, social norms, laws and heteronormativity.

Anyway, back to the plan. Izuku was not dumb, therefore even he knew that wandering around UA while not attending the school would not fly. He needed a way to stay, and for that he needed the guy who runs the whole shitshow; Nedzu.

Which is why the moment Midnight opens the door to the office Izuku stomps in like a man on a mission and stops right in front of an animal of questionable origin in a suit that is allegedly UA’s principal. A little unusual, but if a scumbag like Endeavour can hold the title of No. 2 Hero in Japan, then an animal can run a school.

The principal in question was calmly sitting on a couch and drinking tea, totally unconcerned with whatever bullshit Izuku was about to throw at him.

“Now, what seems to be the issue with this young man?” asked Nedzu.

“This young man-” said Izuku, pointing to himself in a rather cocky manner “has a message for you!”

“And what would that message be?”

The principal’s question was answered with what Izuku can only think of as the ultimate power move, or in this case; a literal ace up the sleeve. The boy proceeded to pull out a Monopoly “Get out of Jail” card out of his shorts (since he technically wasn’t wearing any sleeves) and slam it on the table right in front of Nedzu.

While to an outsider the current situation might seem absurd, it is important to remember that Izuku had a plan; one that could’ve never come to a fruition without a little help from the most unexpected person, which is why that card was no ordinary Monopoly card, but a very specific reminder that only Principal Nedzu would know the meaning of, and when he picked it up and flipped it around, the neatly written message on the back made its presence known.

It read: “You owe me one. - Hisashi”

“My dad says ‘Hi!’ ” exclaimed Izuku, taking one look at Nedzu’s face and knowing that he already won.

Was cashing in on a favour that his dad secured like 10 years ago a morally good decision? Debatable, but it got the job done so he’s not gonna complain. All that mattered was that Izuku now had a pass to enter the UA grounds whenever he pleased and nobody could stop him, and so here he was about to enter the classroom where Kacchan is supposed to be in. The bell hasn’t rung yet so he still had some time and who knows, maybe the handsome guy from the police station was in the same class?

With that in mind he opened the gigantic door and made his way into the classroom and was met with what looked like a pissing contest between his crush and his childhood friend.

“REMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM THAT DESK! SUCH AN ACTION IS INSULTING TO THOSE WHO CAME TO UA BEFORE US AS WELL AS THE CRAFTSMEN WHO MADE THIS DESK!”

“LIKE I CARE! WHAT MIDDLE SCHOOL ARE YOU FROM, YOU EXTRA ?!”

Ah yes, pissing contest at its finest, which meant that Izuku had options . The most obvious course of action would be siding up with Tenya and taunting Kacchan, which is not something Izuku would ever say no to. However , it also happens that the object of his affections had a massive boner for rules and authority, which is the exact opposite of everything Izuku stands for, so siding up with Kacchan it is.

And so he made his way to the pair of bickering teenagers and promptly pushed Kacchan’s feet off the desk, earning a scoff from the blond and an approving but baffled look from Iida, which only lasted for about 2 seconds, because Izuku being the gay disaster that he is simply HAD to ruin it all by claiming the desk as his sitting spot and giving Tenya the most ridiculous bedroom eyes that had Kacchan fake gagging like his life depended on it.

“Umm...Izuku, was it?” asked Tenya, feeling awkward under the other boy’s intense gaze.

“It sure was” replied the boy, feeling happy about leaving enough of an impression to be remembered from all those weeks ago “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

“Indeed-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Deku!” exclaimed Bakugou, completely fed up with the cringeworthy display in front of him “Just tell four-eyes that you came here because you wanted to see him and be done with it!”

“WHAT?”

“Kacchan, not now! I’m trying to put on some moves!”

“Well your moves are shit-”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy from the news who stabbed a villain in the eye with an axe?!” shouted one of the students while pointing at Izuku. There was something ironic about the fact that it was his stunt on live TV from 2 weeks ago that got everyone’s heads turning and not his iconic outfit, or inappropriate behaviour, or literally anything else about him. Like that’s just rude ok? And interrupting him while he’s trying to flirt? Also rude.

“Bitch, I might be” he replied anyway, because his reputation was on the line and because at this point literally everyone has gathered around the desk that he sat on, so things were way past the point of return. People were throwing questions and accusations at him left and right, Trash Bandit is nowhere to be found and his quil flask is not full enough for this bullshit. At this point Bakugou simply got up from his seat and sat at the back of the room, as far away from this nonsense as possible.

“It’s you!”exclaimed the boy with dual coloured hair and equally mismatched eyes “You’re the guy who keeps T-posing in front of my house. Can you please stop?!” he asked with the most deadpan face Izuku has ever seen despite his voice being filled with desperation.

“Look, I T-pose in front of a lot of houses so you’re gonna have to be more specific” he replied sarcastically — despite knowing exactly who he was talking to — since it probably wasn’t a good moment to mention that you’re besties with that person’s mom because you were both stuck in the same loony bin and so you already know all the family drama and have dedicated a good portion of your time to harassing her abusive piece of shit husband…especially with like 20 people around you.

“You’re the one who egged my limo!” shouted one of the girls at the back. She was a very tall girl with long, dark hair tied in a seemingly gravity defying ponytail and a kind face. She had an air of a distinguished lesbian about her, which Izuku could respect even if she was rich if the limo comment was anything to go by. He egged several limos in his lifetime because seeing rich people out in public makes him go apeshit, as it should, so really how is he supposed to remember everyone?

“And I will egg it again!” promised Izuku “When I see rich people out and about it triggers my fight-or-fuck response”

“Don’t you mean fight-or-flight?” she asked.

“No”

“Are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest”

And with that more people joined in on the conversation, including a particular girl who very much looked like an alien with her bright pink skin and black sclera who ended up complementing his outfit, which thank fuck someone here actually had good taste , as well as a guy who ended up being Ms Shouji’s son, and the only reason he found out was because the guy recognised his antics based on the gossip his mom told him and isn’t that a small fuckin world? And in the middle of it all laid an inconspicuous yellow sleeping bag that has been conveniently ignored by everyone for the sake of the plot up until now.

The sleeping bag began to seemingly unzip by itself and soon enough Bandit’s head poked out of it.

“Bandit! There you are”

“Baaah!”

“Guys! Look at this dog!” exclaimed one of the students who Izuku thought looked like a personification of weed, but he wasn’t going to say that. At least the guy knew what he was talking about.

“I’m pretty certain it’s a sheep-” added Tenya, taking his role as the last standing voice of reason in this room very seriously, even though his voice has practically drowned in the sea of teenagers chanting ‘good doggo’, similarly to how one might feel if they were standing at a dance floor while Baby Got Back started playing.

It’s also important to note that while all of this was happening, Bakugou who has sat himself at the back of the room was forced to witness the chaotic force that is Izuku interacting with multiple people at once while being able to convince about 20 of them to refer to his sheep as a dog, and in that moment he turned around staring into the void and asked himself “Am I having a fuckin stroke?”

“Nah, he’s always like that” replied the one person who was sat at the back along with him that Bakugou previously did not bother to notice.

“And how would you know, you damn extra?” asked Bakugou somewhat offended, because sure him and Izuku were not on the friendliest terms and the whole incident from last year really changed him and what not. But they still knew each other their whole lives, so really that had to count for something and Bakugou was not willing to compromise on that with some random extra who looked like a Tinky Winky humansona on drugs.

Unfortunately Bakugou was not able to get an answer because the entire class was interrupted by a homeless looking guy coming out of the yellow sleeping bag to shame student kind. “If you’re here to socialise, then get out” he said. Soon enough the room was filled with a tense silence as the students were unsure of what to expect next.

“It took 8 seconds for you to quiet down. Time is a precious resource. You lot aren’t very rational, are you?” asked the man as he walked to the front of the classroom, making it very clear that he was in fact their teacher. The man was rather tall and unkept, his hair was long and slightly curled, similar to Izuku’s own and the outfit he wore could only be described as a goth onesie. There was something very familiar about him but Izuku couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be.

However, just because Izuku’s memory aligns very closely with a slice of swiss cheese doesn’t mean that the same can be said about the teacher in question. As soon as he turned around to get a good look at his new class his eyes fell on Izuku and his face has swiftly shifted from that of practiced disinterest to shock and recognition that Izuku honestly was not expecting.

“What are you doing here problem child?” asked the man with a certain degree of disbelief in his voice. Once again there was something very familiar about him and the way he addressed Izuku and wait a minute did he just call me a problem child? That can’t be-

“Uncle Shouta” exclaimed the boy in a way that felt uncertain, yet childishly hopeful “Is that you?”

“Of course it is brat, who else would I be?” he replied with a hint of amusement.

#revival of midoriya izuku #demise!au #bnha #fanfic #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #trash bandit #aizawa shouta #iida tenya

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