#genuinely though i think i need to try and get (back) on medication for my chronic pain

[shadow-bender]

.

[numberone-wifeguy]

05/07/24

[schattenhonig]

The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!

(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)

Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?

Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.

I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).

I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".

I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).

I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.

I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.

I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.

I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.

I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?

I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).

Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.

And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.

ETA: please feel free to add your own experiences of repression!

[lucabyte]

Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.

Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...

So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.

Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.

And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:

Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....

Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.

Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.

Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?

Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.

Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...

[scatteredskittless]

hello!! i saw you wanted requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write some platonic headcanons for the Hazbin Hotel crew with a reader who has chronic pain. (i totally get if you don't want to) thank you so much and I'm excited to see what you write in the future 😺

Hazbin Hotel Crew x Chronic pain having! GN! Reader

A/n: tysm for the request !! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s okay :3 (if there’s anything I got wrong, please correct me)

Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain and disability (but like.. that’s pretty obvious lol)

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧

📻𖤐 After a while of Alastor observing you, as he does with most, he’d notice your body language and think the way you acted was a bit odd…

📻𖤐 Not in a bad way, he just didn’t understand at first why you sometimes visibly look like you were in pain or even just hobbling around to get somewhere

📻𖤐 it definitely raised his brow…

📻𖤐 Before actually approaching you and asking you about it, I’d like to think he made one of the egg boiz spy on you like he did in that one episode 😭😭

📻𖤐 I don’t know what he was expecting though. The only somewhat valuable piece of information he gathered from what the little talking egg had told him was that it saw you taking pain medication. Which did not narrow it down at all and not much of his curiosity had been quenched quite yet..

📻𖤐 So, one peaceful and early morning in the hotel, he decided it’d be best to just ask you about it.

📻𖤐 “My dear, are you feeling alright? You look to be quite discomforted…?” He’d ask casually as he took a sip from his coffee mug, one brow raised and his eyes fixed on yours, pretending like he hadn’t noticed this before today.

📻𖤐 After a chat, he was informed you had something called “chronic pain”. He asked a few questions, nodding when he got the answers and once he was satisfied, he walked off back to his quarters in the hotel.

📻𖤐 After all, he had so much research to do.

📻𖤐 Adding onto that last once I do feel as though Alastor would do more research on it when you decided to tell him about your condition.

📻𖤐 Mostly for his own benefit of learning something new since he hadn’t heard of this before… but it came in handy if you ever needed a bit of a helping hand.

📻𖤐 Like, if you happened to have a flare up or just a particularly bad day he’d sit with you and made sure you rested up.

📻𖤐 He wouldn’t verbally express it but he did take pity on you. How unfortunate you were in constant agony.

📻𖤐 He is a sadistic little fuck though so he’d probably find it mildly entertaining or at the very least fascinating to see what’d make you tick or was a challenge for you

📻𖤐 Although he’d try to be careful not to push you too much.

‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧

🕸️ᥫ᭡ We all know Angel Dust doesn’t have much of a filter so it wouldn’t take him long to ask you why you could barely stand upright for too long or look like you’re genuinely struggling all the time.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ In fact, he’s more perceptive than people would like to think he is. He noticed it shortly after you two had met.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He’d probably come off a bit strong, saying something along the lines of “toots? Ya alright over there? Ya don’t look so uhhh.. you don’t look too hot.” As he gave you a one over.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ You could tell he wasn’t trying to be insulting to you though, he was just concerned and wanted to know what was troubling you. It showed ever so slightly on the spiders face.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Once you explained to Angel your condition he felt bad. Like, huh? Whatdoya mean you sometimes have trouble even getting outta bed in the morning because of how much pain you’re in?? Sometimes you neglect your own basic needs because you’re in constant pain?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ As he tired to wrap his head around the thought, he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to help. Of course though, there wasn’t much he could do.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ From that day on, Angel would try to make things at least a little easier for you. You had earned the title of his friend, after all. Why would he let his friend suffer alone?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He loves to cook and is pretty good at it so expect a few homemade meals on him at least a few times <3

🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you ever had a flare up you better fucking believe he’d sit there with you and just talk. He rambles like an old man lol

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Also 100% has movie nights with you with both of you guys’ favourite snacks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Oh and of course his pig Fat Nuggets would be joining you two

🕸️ᥫ᭡ And thankfully the little guy adores you. Which gains some points with Angel

🕸️ᥫ᭡ The piggy would crawl into your lap if you were up for it. He’s pretty light and his oinks and squeals are bound to make you crack a smile

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel is no stranger to feeling pain, so he knows how much it sucks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ That’s why I believe he’d be one of the best people to tell. You’re his friend and wants to make sure you’re okay as possible.

‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧

🍺🃁 Husker, much like Angel, would notice almost immediately that something was up with you…

🍺🃁 At first Husk couldn’t place it. He just knew that he didn’t often see you standing up straight for long periods of time and that you looked like you were constantly unwell.

🍺🃁 Was it just bad migraines? He’s never really seen you drunk before so it’s not like it could be really bad hangovers.

🍺🃁 Plus, this has been going on since you arrived here so that seemed highly unlikely.

🍺🃁 Husk was the type of guy to keep it to himself though. If it didn’t concern him, why bother saying anything about it?

🍺🃁 One day though, you sat yourself down at the bar and asked for some water. This time however, you looked worse than usual, practically doubled over as you stared down at the bar.

🍺🃁 Even though Husk usually kept his mouth shut.. he couldn’t help but ask if you had a headache or something and if you needed some migraine medication.

🍺🃁 He wasn’t heartless.

🍺🃁 When you shook your head no slowly and told him you were just having a “flare up” he asked what you meant to which you gave a brief explanation of the condition you have.

🍺🃁 Suddenly, it all made sense. That’s why you looked like you were constantly in pain. It’s because you were.

🍺🃁 He slid you the ice cold water gently and observed you for a few moments before going back to wiping the glasses as he spoke to you.

🍺🃁 “If you need something don’t be afraid to ask for it.” He’d say, his deep voice trying to be as comforting as it can while also maintaining somewhat of a nonchalant tone.

🍺🃁 Then, after that, it became routine for you to sit at the bar with him.

🍺🃁 He definitely wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know you and since you had a place to just sit and rest, he got to see you more often.

🍺🃁 you swiftly became good friends with him and he was pretty helpful when it came to your condition.

🍺🃁 he’d do his best to check up on you often :)

‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧

🗡️☪︎ Vaggie heard about your chronic pain from Charlie so there wouldn’t be a need to tell her about it lol

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d be a little awkward with attempting to help you out…

🗡️☪︎ Like it’s not like she can really make you feel better so it’s a bit of a struggle for her..

🗡️☪︎ But she does try her best though because she cares about you. You’re her friend.

🗡️☪︎ After a few motivational words from Charlie she’s good to go, attempting to comfort you.

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d try to help by grabbing you stuff you wanted or needed and chatting with you.

🗡️☪︎ She’s actually quite fun to converse with, she’s pretty sweet when she wants to be and can hold good conversations :))

🗡️☪︎ She’s a good listener so if you wanted to vent or just had something on your mind, she’d listen.

🗡️☪︎ During flareups, Vaggie would just stay by your side and wait it out with you, if you needed anything, she’d be on it and would be back pretty fucking quickly too 💀

🗡️☪︎ Would put a random show on if you wanted a distraction and might let you rest your head on her shoulder if you so desired

🗡️☪︎ I can’t think of much else for her other than the fact she’d try her best. Maybe mess up a few times but ultimately she means well and tries to be as understanding as she possibly can be <33

‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧

⭐️☀︎ The first thing you did when you arrived at the hotel was inform the very excited daughter of Lucifer that you had chronic pains so you might have to take it a bit slow when showing you around the Hazbin Hotel..

⭐️☀︎ And of course, Charlie being who she was, was very understanding and accepting of that fact.

⭐️☀︎ She’d heard about your condition before so making accommodations for you wouldn’t be an issue

⭐️☀︎ She’s a sweetheart so quite literally your biggest supporter

⭐️☀︎ Like, oh? You need something??Ohmygodwhydidntyoutellmesoonerhereitis :33

⭐️☀︎ Much like Vaggie, she’d sit and talk with you during your flareups

⭐️☀︎ Maybe make you a tea and discuss future plans and such for the hotel to get your mind off of things. Works sometimes surprisingly enough.

⭐️☀︎ She’s nice to talk to, very comforting vibes

⭐️☀︎ But it may get a bit annoying how many times she asks if you’re sure there’s nothing she can do to make your pain go away somehow lol

⭐️☀︎ Or even just how many times she asks if you need something. “Do you need anything? No? Are you sure? Okay…. But are you really sure?”

⭐️☀︎ Might stress herself out on occasion over it tbh😭🙏

⭐️☀︎ But she only means well, you know that.

⭐️☀︎ Her cat Keekee I’m sure would love to cuddle, the cute cyclopean kitty pushing its forehead against your hand for pets (only if you’re up to it, of course.)

⭐️☀︎ Asides from Angel, Charlie would definitely be the best person to tell in the hotel because like… genuinely she just wants to help In any way she can lol

‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧

🧼𐙚 Niffty is quite blunt as well, very out there and doesn’t really think before she speaks half of the time it just kinda comes out 😭

🧼𐙚 So.. she’d probably take one look at you, and ask why you’re in pain.

🧼𐙚 To which you’d explain to the little one eyed maid your condition, she’d think about it for a moment before asking a shitload of questions about it to which you answer :))

🧼𐙚 Other than that I don’t think Niffty would like… really do much?

🧼𐙚 Maybe clean for you

🧼𐙚 But there’s not much else she would do, realistically, she might forget about it and then ask again. Once you remind her she remembers tho lol

🧼𐙚 During your flareups I do believe like the others she’d sit with you for a while…

🧼𐙚 Before spotting a roach and scurrying off to go take care of the pest. Once done, she’d come back and the cycle repeats.

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittless

[blackleatherjacketz]

All Better

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: You miss a meeting because you're sick, and Eric makes a house call to make you feel better.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Eric being Eric, Strep Throat, Antibiotics, Shoving, Blaming, Kissing, Glamoring, Hypnotizing, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Healing Vampire Blood, Blood Drinking, Biting, Vampirism, Nipple Play, Licking, Cunnilingus, Female Orgasm

Read more Eric!

“You don’t look very good.” Eric states the obvious as his brows knit together in a look of, wait a minute, is that… concern that you’re seeing on his face? It must be the medication you’re on that’s blurring your vision and dulling your senses, because you’re pretty sure that ‘concern’ isn’t in Eric Northman’s emotional repertoire. “What’s wrong with you?”

It isn’t until he pushes you up against the wall, staring at your pale face as beads of sweat run down your temples that he understands why you didn’t show up to Fangtasia tonight or bother answering your phone when he called. The realization of your illness slowly melts that concerned look of his into a stoic expression of understanding, allowing his pupils to expand just the slightest bit before his lips part in silence.

“I’m just sick, it’s nothing.” You try to look away from him, tempted to fall back into your old habit of isolating yourself when falling ill, only he grabs hold of your chin to prevent that from happening.

“Sick, how?” That sense of understanding gets washed away in a flash, his brief display of genuine emotion quickly covered up by his usual curt and cutting tone.

“It’s just an infection, I know I should have called, I just didn’t think you’d…”

“Didn’t think I’d what?” He tightens his grip on your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. “Didn’t think I’d notice that my favorite human wasn’t there to greet me tonight?”

Favorite human? Did you hear that right? You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise as he admits it out loud, albeit through gritted teeth.

“I was too weak to drive out there, I…” You mutter as his cool grip on your face chills you even more, forcing your body to shiver in its febrile state.

“Then let me heal you.” He offers, his eyes scanning over your shaking form before he brings his wrist up to his mouth.

“What?” Your arrangement with Eric has always been very simple; you show up once a week to let him feed on you and he pays you enough money to cover your mortgage each month. It had never been more than that though, never crossed any other carnal line despite your secret desire for more intimacy with him. He had never once offered you his own blood before, and the idea of it still kind of scares you, if you’re being honest with yourself. “Heal me?”

“So you won’t be sick anymore.” He loosens his grip on your face, his hand falling loosely around your neck.

“I’m on antibiotics, Eric, I don’t need your blood.” You attempt to walk away from him but he places his palm flat across your chest, forcing you back into position against the wall. Even his restrained amount of strength is too much for your weakened muscles to withstand as you wince in pain.

“Let me heal you.” He stares into your eyes, accessing your subconscious mind as you can’t help but stare right back, too tired to put up any sort of emotional barrier between the two of you. You’ve seen him do this to others before, convincing them to do whatever he wanted, whether that be to pay him back, run away or even kill someone for him. You just never thought he’d do it to you.

“Okay,” You hear yourself whisper almost immediately before taking his hand and leading him to the couch at the far end of your living room. You watch him sit down as if he’s already been there dozens of times before, as if he’s lived there with you already, as if he owns the place. You feel him pull you onto his lap, guiding your hips and thighs so that you’re now straddling him in the middle of your couch as his hands carefully smooth their way up your back.

“You’re shivering.” He grins as you settle into him, your pelvis slowly rocking against his hips as his hands find their way into your hair. “I can fix that.”

“Yeah?” As scary as the idea of drinking his blood is, the thought of letting this feverish hell continue any longer seems way worse.

“Let me take care of you.” Eric fumbles through the random items on the side table closest to him until he finds something sharp at his disposal: a ball point pen. He pushes the cap off with his thumb, smiles up at you before jabbing the pen into his neck so quickly, you barely have a chance to register what’s happening before he pulls you in closer. “Now, drink.”

You gasp as your heart races in a confused sense of horror, watching droplets of his blood ooze out of his wound and down the porcelain skin of his neck. Your lips begin to tremble as his fingers weave their way into your hair, pushing your mouth in closer to his throat as you attempt to fight your body’s natural panic response.

“Drink.” He instructs again, only this time more sternly.

Having no other choice but to do as you’re told, you open your mouth and lick the droplets of blood from his neck as he continues to hold you in place. It tastes a little better than you thought it would, a sort of salty mixture with hints of iron and blackberry wine that leaves a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. Kind of like a rich Cabernet.

Well, that’s not so bad, now is it?

You open up again and start down at his clavicle this time, making sure to clean up any remnants of the fluid until you get all the way up to the puncture site, greedily suckling straight from the source. You can hear him moan as you lap him up, feel his grip on your hair tighten as you consume him, getting lost in the closeness of your bodies and the binding of your fluids. You’re sure that he can hear your heart beating wildly inside your chest, thumping hard against his as you wrap your arms around his torso to get even closer to him. You can feel his blood working inside you, healing you on a cellular level; each vampiric red blood cell eradicating any bacteria into oblivion as the weakness leaves your muscles and the pain dissipates from your throat.

“Enough,” he whispers reluctantly, now having to pull your mouth off him. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”

His words barely bring you out of your trance, his salty flesh no longer beneath your tongue as he tugs on your scalp to get you to finally stop drinking. It’s almost as if you’ve been brought back to reality after having one of the most intense dreams you’ve ever had as you watch his wound heal just as quickly as he had made it. You’ll never get used to that.

“It worked.” You exclaim gratefully. “I feel better!”

“I told you.” Eric grins as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, reminding you that you’ve made quite the mess of yourself. “This is why you have to let me take care of you.”

“I’m not very good at that.” You’ve always had to take care of yourself in the past. One lesson that life has taught you time and time again is that the second you start depending on someone is the very moment that you’ll be disappointed.

“I know, but you have to let me do it anyway.” His eyelids drop halfway down as he looks at you longingly, gazing upon you in a way that you’ve never noticed before.

Maybe it’s that look, or maybe it’s the high of his blood now coursing through your veins that makes you suddenly feel compelled to press your lips against his, letting that vampiric confidence guide your actions. You keep them there for a few seconds, realizing that he isn’t pulling away from you, but instead is kissing you back with just as much enthusiasm as he pulls tighter on your scalp.

You’ve always wanted to kiss him, from the very first moment that you saw him. But something about him told you that he had women throwing themselves at his feet left and right; and you didn’t want to be like one of them. You were just grateful for the little contact you got when he fed upon you each week. You relished every caress of your cheek, every squeeze of your waist that sent shivers down your spine before he ended up drinking his fill. You never thought that he’d be interested in you like this, that he’d actually want you in that type of way at all.

However, his tongue now parts your lips as his kiss intensifies, all but moaning the truth into your mouth as if he’s been waiting just as long to finally taste your lips. His kiss is desperate and sloppy, so different from the perfectly put together business man you first met that night at the bar. His composure casually crumbles to pieces as his hands travel all over your body, frantically grasping onto your muscles until they find themselves in your hair again, his lips curling into a deviously satisfied smirk.

You feel him grow beneath his jeans, his clothed member now brushing against the thin fabric of your underwear as his hips needily writhe against your junction. His deliberate movements trigger that moisture to collect between your thighs as he continues his rhythm upward with several shallow breaths. Now stained in his own blood, his mouth ventures over every inch of your lips and chin before moving down to your jawline, licking a trail alongside your pulse.

You whimper in response, grinding your needy center against him as you brace yourself for the bite that never comes. Instead he lifts your shirt up over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool temperature of the room as your nipples harden in front of his face.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” He teases, letting go of the rest of you so he can graze his palms across them, sending a much more intense tingling sensation down your spine.

“I didn’t know that you wanted to…” Your breath hitches as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard before wrapping his arms behind you and turning you on your back. He keeps contact with your skin the entire time, pulling on your sensitive tissue as he looks up at you with those eyes again, dragging your tender bud in between his teeth.

“Really?” He laughs with a smirk. He moves on to the next one before popping it into his mouth while pinching the other, sending a barrage of little fireworks into your skin. “You think I make feeding contracts lightly?”

“No, I uhh…” Your back arches toward the ceiling as he sucks bursts of delight into your tissues, humming a sweet vibration against your skin as you all but melt beneath him. Pleasure being the last sensation you expect to get from Eric’s mouth, you can’t help but feel a little breathless as his fingers simultaneously tug your underwear down your hips as they instinctively lift off the couch cushion to aid in their removal. “It’s hard for me to tell sometimes.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?” He licks a languid path down your quaking abdomen as your muscles contract in hurried anticipation, beads of sweat popping up in his wake. He circles around your navel with his tongue, kissing a hungry trail down your pelvis while his hands help slide your panties off your calves and feet. He smiles and spreads your thighs as far apart as they can go, straining your muscles as he stares at you like a jungle cat would its prey before it pounces. “Looks like I could be a better communicator.”

His fangs drop and his eyes darken, wasting no time in settling between your thighs to take the bite you were wondering would ever come at all. Instead of sinking his fangs into your femoral artery to get the most blood in the least amount of time, though, he bites you just above your swollen center. He laughs as you yelp from the piercing pain, letting that red hot fluid spill down your already dripping wet seam before he dives in to finally taste it.

That cold, blood-thirsty vampire that you’ve known for the past few weeks finally comes out as he starts licking streaks of crimson up and down your puffy lips, spreading the blood and gore into your folds as his tongue delivers that tantalizing balance of pain and pleasure that you’ve only read about in books. He growls like the creature of the night that he is as he devours you, snaking his arms beneath your thighs to pull you in even closer as his mouth delves into your flesh. Unable to be sated, he flicks his tongue up and down your sensitive clit, sending signals of ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain as your eyes flutter with visions of shapes and colors you never knew existed.

Maybe it’s the vampire blood pumping through your veins for the very first time, or maybe it’s Eric’s skilled mouth that forces your eyes to roll back into your head. The way he keeps eating and drinking makes it feel as if each and every tiny hair on your skin is now alive, standing on end waiting for him to touch them, to give them permission to explode until your entire body begins to shake. You reach out for him in vain as the otherworldly sense of euphoria washes over you, forcing every muscle in your body to convulse in rhythmic waves as he relentlessly drinks from your bloody cunt. He glances up at you only to grin as your skin changes color, warming and cooling in phases as your orgasm violently works its way through your skin and bones and finally out of your mouth.

“Eric!” You cry out as he finally pulls back from you, licking his lips as you rattle and hum in the crimson mess he’s made of you. “Oh my God, Eric!”

“See?” He smirks as he watches you come down from your hormonal high, running your hands through his hair as he finally gives your bloody center one last lick. “All better.”

[underoossss]

can I request a hurt/comfort with steve, where maybe the reader gets hurt in the upside-down and he is taking care of her? you are one of my favorite steve blogs!

I love a good old hurt comfort!!! And this time though r is hurt Steve is getting comfort cause that boy sure blames himself for no apparent reason. You’re so sweet thank you! It means the world to me you like the stories I write for y’all💖 I hope you like this! 1k.

••••

“I can’t lose her!”

Steve’s scream still echoes at the back of your mind, fuzzy and distant but it’s still there. The panic, the pain, the anger, they’re all there burned in your brain. You were in a dizzy state, half present and half gone after your last trip to the upside down had left you with a pierced leg and a bleeding wound. Vecna was gone which is all that mattered, yet instead of celebrating Steve hovered over you making a makeshift tourniquet for your leg with his belt – Nancy and Robin trying their best to calm him down. That's when he snapped, voice raw and cracking with emotion; it was clear he didn't mean to, but if you were in his shoes you're sure you'd have done the same. You wanted to reassure him, tell him you were fine, but things were hazy after that.

Steve's quiet now, lying down on his bed next to you.

His torso is bandaged just like your leg; his wounds clean and treated, yours got ten stitches covered with two layers of gauze and clear medical tape. He's done nothing but look after you since you got back, making sure you had everything you needed, driving you to his place and helping you get upstairs. He even washed your hair, gentle and caring and careful, pretending he's alright when you know he isn't. His hands still shake no matter how much you hold onto them, you can tell he's holding back tears from the way he clears his throat before speaking. Yet he only wants to take care of you.

"You should try to get some rest." Steve says, one hand gentle on your cheek as his thumb rubs softly at your skin. "It's late."

You glance sideways at him, his face is golden in the glow of the nightstand lamp. Hair almost dry from his shower earlier, eyes red-rimmed, a soft grin that's holding everything back. You know this boy the same way he knows you. "I can't sleep lying on my back." You whisper over a frown.

"We can figure it out." Steve's smile is a fraction more genuine this time, always happy to help you. "Here, let me sit up."

It takes some minutes but Steve rearranges the pillows and helps you sit up, mindful of your injured leg. He lies back against the headboard with you slumped sideways against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and patched up leg extended in front of you. It's not the most comfortable position but it's better than before, especially now that you have your arms around Steve.

"I'm not hurting you?" You ask quietly, closing your eyes at Steve's touch rubbing up and down your arm.

"No," You feel Steve shake his head. "I like this better."

You snuggle closer to him, wanting to be as much as possible as someone who thought would lose the other only hours ago. Steve hums and kisses your temple which makes you look up at him. When you see the tears he's holding back, you break.

"I'm so sorry Stevie." You mumble through an aching throat. "I didn't mean to get hurt and scare you like that."

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. "You don't have to say sorry."

"I wanted to tell you I would be okay, reassure you that I would be." Your words are rushed through your tears, lips pulling downwards with sorrow. "It all happened so fast."

Steve's arms go around you and pull you closer, his shoulder shaking as he cries into your hair. You'd squeeze him tight in return if he wasn't injured, so you settle for kissing the middle of his chest as you cry with him. The idea of the roles being reversed makes your blood freeze with panic. "I thought I was going to lose you." Steve confesses, "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

"You'll never lose me." You pull pack to look at him in the eyes, red and full of tears just like yours. "I will always fight to stay by your side, Steve. I can't even imagine being without you; if I can keep you from going through that, you know I will. Just like I know you'd fight too."

Steve closes his eyes and nods, "Every time."

You grab his face in both your hands. "I love you, so much."

He looks calmer when he opens his eyes, still shaken but better than before. "I love you too."

"Tell me what you need?" You ask in a whisper, wiping the last of his tears away and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Please, if I can make it better I'd like to."

"I just need you." Steve brings you towards his chest again with his arms around your waist. "This is all I need."

You look up at him and smile when you see some of that previous fear melt away from his face. Your beautiful boy slowly becoming himself again. "I can give you a kiss too. I don't think we've ever gone this long without kissing you know."

"Tell me about it." Steve's smile appears then, before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

masterlist

[captain039]

PART 4 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, m violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous part <-

My mind is just horny for Hugh Jackman it’s bad xD

The next day you wait till around dinner time to head to the bar, you put on a fancy dress and some low heels, throw on some makeup and sigh. You stare at your reflection poking your stomach, hips and waist, you had put on one of those slender shapewear things too. You rolled your eyes opened the bathroom door a little harshly and grabbed your small purse.

“Let’s go” you grumbled hating this plan already.

“Actually, no, why the hell am I here?” You turn making Logan almost run into you.

“Never been on a mission before?” He asks.

“No?” You say frowning and he falters.

“You’ve been itching to get out the school” he says.

“How do you know that?” You ask, you’d only just gone to speak with Jean about it when you walked in on them both in her lab.

“Because-“ he growls a little pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Stay here” he says moving out the way.

“No, you said to come, so I will go” his lips curls up showing the two fangs he has.

“Omega” he grumbles as you walk out the motel door and to the car.

You had thrown on some perfume to go over your dulled scent, like hell you could flirt your way into a secret fighting ring. Better off getting your ass caught and thrown in there. You stare out the window till you arrive. When you enter you already hate it, your whole body tenses and you feel eyes. You forced Logan to wait at least ten minutes before coming in. You sit in a small booth finding yourself ready to flee and your hands overly hot. Logan walks in, cigar in his mouth, leather jacket over his shoulders. You take a small breath as he heads over to the bar. You didn’t look at him properly when you left the motel, jeans, plain white shirt and a leather brown jacket with boots. He orders so naturally and you wish you took the keys for yourself. You know he’s appealing, the few other women in the bar getting an eye full. You don’t blame them but the heat dancing on your palm says otherwise.

“Can I get ya something doll?” A older woman asks.

“Just a smoothie?” You ask and she smiles and nods. It was a bar cross restaurant you think from the dining tables to one side with the register and small display of foods and the bar and pool table on the other side. Logan starts talking around, grabs a pool cue and joins the game. You were truely going to hell for your thoughts as he bent over the table and striked the ball. The waitress comes with your juice and you thank her. You relax a bit, nobody’s on this side of the restaurant, the smoothie is nice and cold too though your head feels a little funny. You look out the window to the dusty car park figuring Logan could handle majority of this mission. You sigh a bit glancing back to Logan seeing a brunette woman by his side. She’s gorgeous, slim waist and body, nice sized boobs and ass, the dress complimenting her every curve and just the right amount of makeup on her face. She’s faking not knowing how to play, or she genuinely doesn’t know how to play as Logan shows her. He doesn’t do the whole get behind her thing and lean with her though, which makes her disappointed even if she gets one of the pool balls in the shoot.

Logan hates himself, he hadn’t realised you had never been on a mission and Charles sure as hell didn’t ask you and him to go. It was supposed to be Jean and him, but when you walked in shoulders tense and looking ready to burst again he decided you and him needed to get out. You’re quiet the whole ride, awkwardly trying to act normal as he forces himself not to smile at it. You don’t know how to act around him, he doesn’t blame you, he’s always been a cold hard bastard. When you have a shower he stares at the door wondering if you’d let him join you, he wants to fell your body so bad, feel those thighs around his head, sink his teeth into your flesh while you moan his name. He’s worked up even more now he swears, you’re too shy and kind for someone like him. Once the shower stops he sighs a little missing his opportunity, he frowns though when you take a long time in there and your anxiety peeks. It’s like he’s in tune with you and he gets up and knocks. Your response has him on edge and opening the door without permission. Seeing you in a towel, flushed and fresh out the shower has his dick hardening. Fuck he wants to smell you, breathe in that sweet scent he knows you have. He sees the syringes in the counter though and his face turns hard. It looks like something Hank cooked up which probably means it’s for your mutation. He gets snappy for no reason and growls when he does leaving you confused. He smokes even though it does nothing before going back inside and seeing you already tucked in your bed. He slides his shirt off and kicks off his shoes before he’s in bed too.

He lays awake, one hand above his head one resting on his chest, he hears you whimper a few times and frowns before you start to mumble panicked and your scent spikes. He’s up quickly and sitting on the edge of your bed, your over heating, he sees small flames dance on your face as it squints. He shakes you gently and you’re up quickly hands out. You burn his chest and he hisses. He hates how you instantly worry and sadden tears in your eyes. He heals easily though, he’d get burnt a thousand times if it meant to be this close. He curses your scent blocker, wants to set it on fire and throw the ashes far away from your reach. He wants to lean forward feel your lips against his, feel your heated body against his.

Watching you now sip whatever the hell that was in your cup and look outside a little calmed in that perfect black dress. He forgot breathing was a thing till his lungs demanded air. Your hips looked so grabable, the way your hair sat was perfect. You were safer over there than here while he talked and tried to gather information. A beta woman came up to him though, flirted with big brown eyes and innocence. He played along for a bit hoping to gather information, but he doubted she’d know, she wasn’t a mutant, nor did she smell like anything related to violence. He showed her how to shoot properly and she lost interest thankfully. He looked back to you, your eyes hard on the woman and pride swelled up in him. He saw small flickers of flame along your skin as you caught his eyes and looked away with red cheeks. He walks over, he doesn’t think anyone here has information. Slides in the booth while you frown a little still blushing.

“Come play” he cocks his head a small smirk on his lip’s and you choke a little on your drink.

“No thank you, I’m happy here with my smoothie, pretty sure the blonde wants a go” you gesture vaguely to the other side.

“Come on” he’s teasing, seeing if you’ll break as his nose flares a little catching something sweet that isn’t your perfume.

“Fine” you sigh.

This was a bad idea, agreeing to whatever evil plan the alpha conspired. You hate the looks the women give and think about going back.

“Logan-“ you say hesitantly but he’s already grabbed two pool cues and set up the table.

“Do you know how to play?” He asks.

“Vaguely, whoever shoots first, if they get a high or low in that’s their numbers, first one to get all there numbers in and then the eight wins” you shrug and see him with a small look of awe on his face.

“You shoot” he cocks his head to the table as stands casually.

“I’m not good at this” you grumble. You lean down and aim, hitting the ball harshly, too harshly, it ends up bouncing and you wish the earth would swallow you up.

“Too much force” Logan says.

“You go first” you get embarrassed and hurry away feeling your head spin a little again.

“Hey” the alpha holds your arm and you jolt a bit. You gulp a little feeling like everyone’s watching you with hatred that this handsome alpha is focused on you.

“Logan-“ you sigh looking to his face. He’s got some puppy dog look going on and you almost choke again. You take a small breath a small frown on your face, you could pick up more of his scent now.

“Just- you go first” you say quietly and he nods. He rearranges the balls and hits them easily, a high going in first.

“Guess I’m highs” he’s says and you nod going around the table. You lean down a little thankful this dress is below knee high. You aim a bit till Logan’s voice makes you jump.

“You won’t hit there” he says and you huff turning to him a small smile playing at his lips. He walks to you and your heart rate picks up as he slides his body easily around yours. Your cheeks flush instantly and realise he’s going to really show you how to shoot. Your mind kicks into override and you scramble out of his hold breathing quickly and he frowns.

“This was a bad idea, keys? Keys where’s the keys” you say rushed body hot as he hands you the keys. You rush outside letting the cool air calm your body and small flames flickering on your arms. You feel like crying and curse softly as you hang your head.

“You ok there doll face?” You frown looking to your left seeing an alpha leaning against the wall smoking.

“Yes, sorry” you say shuffling away a bit as you catch his scent with a small frown. Why was everyone’s scents stronger? You think back to last night body going ridged as you remember in your hastiness to put the serum away you forgot your anti-heat and scent blockers. Panic rises up in you, sure you’ve forgotten them before at the safety of the school where you had access to your room and a locked door.

“Logan” you mumble needing to get inside till the alpha nearby blocks it. You frown not use to this kind of treatment as he a smirk plays at his face. He looks ok you guess, bear a little messy, teeth a bit too yellow for your liking. You feel your hands shake and feel the heat of your flames along your skin.

“Sir I need to get back to my alpha” you lie and he glances to your neck scoffing.

“What alpha?” He leans closer as you back away, but he follows.

“This one” Logan growls behind him, pulling the man away from you and punching him. The man’s knocked out instantly and you take a small shaky breath.

“You ok?” He asks a frown on his face as you shake your head. Gods his scent, it flares with worry as he comes closer nose flaring, eyes narrowing.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t take-“ you take a small breath hugging your body, flames dancing across your arms.

“Hey, hey it’s ok” Logan comes closer large hands on your heated skin.

“You barged in and I panicked with the serum I forgot to take them” you feel tears in your eyes, you feel stupid. Logan has a frown on his face but he tugs you to him, arms going around your shoulders, a hand cradling your head. You shudder forced to breathe him in a small noise leaving your throat. You can’t help your arms going around him and nuzzling closed, wanting his scent all over you. You feel something prick your neck then and jolt.

“Logan” you slur as your body goes limp.

Next part ->

Taglist:

@beanhardy

[veritas-scribblings]

attraction - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1,067

In October, James Potter starts popping up everywhere. The library. The great hall. The quad, when Regulus is just trying to sit and read. The potions classroom, where James apparently left a textbook he needed. The greenhouses, where Regulus is trying to complete some homework. The quidditch pitch, because James is apparently spying for his house.

It’s like one minute, James predominantly exists in the periphery of Regulus's life as the boy his brother is attached-at-the-hip to (and the boy who makes Regulus feel a little bit funny inside), and then suddenly James is absolutely everywhere Regulus looks.

And it’s driving Regulus insane.

He says this to Barty, who offers to slip James something that will keep him out of Regulus’s hair. Regulus is almost tempted to take Barty up on his offer, and he would, but he can never quite know if Barty’s idea of the ‘something’ he’d slip James is innocuous (in the sense that maybe James will live on the toilet for a few days) or if it’s something…less innocuous (like James will need medical intervention to repair his spleen). 

The trouble is, every time James Potter shows up, Regulus makes an utter fool of himself. Like James has a force field of ‘stupid’ around him that draws Regulus in, scrambles his brain and lowers his general intelligence and co-ordination a few pegs.

Last time, when James turned up in the potions lab looking for his stray charms book, Regulus dropped his ink well and ended up coated in black in ink. And then James had laughed at him, because James is an absolute bastard, and Regulus had wanted to die a quick and sudden death.

Unfortunately, no Regulus’s had been harmed in the course of that incident (except perhaps for Regulus’s pride), and this is why Regulus is now standing in the back of the library staring James down. And James has a book in his hands that Regulus needs, and there is no way that he will be leaving without that book.

Even if it includes removing James’s lovely hands from the rest of his lovely person. 

‘That’s mine,’ Regulus says flatly. He reaches out to grab the book from James’s hands, forgetting the books he already has tucked under his arms. They fall to the floor in a series of thuds, landing on Regulus’s foot, causing him to curse angrily. 

‘Shit! Fuck!’

‘Language, Regulus,’ James laughs. ‘And it’s not. Your book. It’s the library’s book.’

‘It’s mine. I came here to borrow it, and what do you even need it for? Why are you here?’

‘I came looking for you,’ James says quickly, smiling in that way that he always does, the way that leaves Regulus feeling slightly weak inside. ‘I…just…go out with me?’

Regulus, who had been picking up the books he'd dropped, falters and frowns, uncertain that he’s heard James right. The cocky grin James had been wearing a moment ago has disappeared and he looks almost awkward in his own body. Which is unusual for James, who typically has that characteristic Gryffindor Quidditch Player arrogance about him. 

‘Go out with me,’ James says, more earnestly this time.

‘What? …why?’

‘Why?’ James repeats, surprised. He thinks for a moment and then, as though he’s giving a speech or a presentation, he says, ‘Well, I’m good at quidditch. Captain of the team! And I’m funny…I think. I think I have a good sense of humour. And I’m a nice guy! Mostly. Yeah, in general. Oh, and I’m a good student. I get good grades. Always turn in my assignments on time. Professors love me. And I’m a good friend. Sirius can vouch for me!’ 

James is shifting on the spot, scratching the back of his neck, watching Regulus like Regulus has him under a guillotine and all Regulus needs to do is pull that rope. ‘So…?’ he says. ‘Will you?’ 

Regulus grabs the book from James’s hands and slips it into the pile he has tucked back under his arm.

‘Why?’ Regulus hisses. ‘Is this a joke? One of your pranks? Is my brother going to leap out from somewhere?’ 

James genuinely looks aghast at this idea. ‘What? No! I—’ He pauses, mouthing oh like he’s had some sort of realisation. Reaches out to take Regulus’s arm, which Regulus yanks back, furiously. ‘No, I want you to go out with me because I like you. I like you. A lot.’ 

James’s smile is genuine. Earnest. Most things about James are genuine and earnest. And, Regulus thinks, maybe this is why James does funny things to Regulus’s insides. Things that make Regulus feel slightly dizzy and jittery, that make Regulus feel just a bit stupider, that make Regulus feel warm inside. 

‘I’ve been,’ James starts somewhat sheepishly. ‘I’ve been…following you around, maybe. Trying to work up the courage.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ Regulus retorts.

‘Oh?’

‘…you following me.’

‘Oh.’

‘So, this isn’t a joke?’

James shakes his head vehemently, and smiles at Regulus. There’s such hope in the smile that it feels like Regulus’s world has turned on its head. None of this makes sense. None of it. Surely there’s a shoe on the other side of all of this that’ll drop, and Regulus’s traitorous brain will tell him, ‘I told you. I told you so.’

Or maybe it won’t.

‘Okay,’ Regulus says hesitantly. ‘Okay.’ 

James grins. The grin is wide and bright like the sun, and he practically bounces on the spot. Like Regulus has made his day. His week. Maybe his month.

‘Really?’ he says excitedly. ‘Really? Great! Okay, great! This is great! I’ll…um…we’ll. Hogsmede. This weekend. I’ll, um, we’ll go together. It’ll be great.’ He steps forwards towards Regulus, appears to reconsider this, and hastily steps backwards.

Regulus nods slowly, unsure what he’s meant to do with all of this. His heart is fluttering in his stomach, making him feel nervous and worried. That’s he’s going to do something stupid again, like break his ink well or drop his books on his foot. And James will realise that Regulus is stupid and this whole idea was stupid, because why is James even interested in ‘going out with Regulus’? 

But there’s also this other spark of hope in Regulus that James will not think he’s stupid. Maybe he’ll like Regulus and Regulus will get to spend more time around James, intentionally, and they’ll do it all over again.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

NOPE

NO

NO THANK YOU

I don't like the way those are lining up AT ALL.

"Broken free of the shackles of natural law"

We've heard/seen Zayne be referenced as "shackled" at least 3 times before at this point. By Raymond, by the 'Narrator' ("remains shackled to time"), and in reference to the Foreseer myth. This makes the 4th. I genuinely hurt every single time the story so heavy handidly reminds me that Zayne really is a dog on a chain. The Foreseer robes even have a LITERAL collar of thorns over the neck of it ffs. It's painful to watch at this point and it breaks my heart.

"Why persuade Zayne? What he really needs is a pair of hands. Ones that can carry out God's mission and allow for God's descent."

Between this, and the one below of-

"At least he has another option. His last one"

I'm torn on which one is referencing Astra. On one hand, Astra really could be a modern made "God". An elevated man of great power, someone Zayne turned to in his 11th hour to try and save MC (though we all know how that turned out, unfortunately). It would seem that Xander Sciences is playing at God, and if we know anything about the sci-fi scene, it's that human experimentation ALWAYS ends up going ~soooo well~ and nothing ever goes wrong there 👀

On the other hand, the "last option" really gets my gut feeling going. My theorist brain is telling me Zayne is gonna go full Warlock pact and make a deal with an entity in exchange for MC's life. Only it's gonna go tits up and be a Fey pact, and because we all know how MC and he end up, clearly Zayne did NOT read the fine print (or more likely, Zayne thought he could out maneuver the rules). Ever since I read the Mt Eternal anecdote and realized the Tower and Mt Eternal are in the same location, I could not shake the feeling that Zayne already has made contact with whatever "Astra" is. Be it a very powerful person, an actual God, or someone else entirely different (like another time traveler, such as Xavier and the backtrackers). We know he's traveling back there multiple times by himself, conducting research of an unknown variety, that only he and Dr. Noah are privy to. I'm just saying if ever there was a cover up for having contact with a supernatural being/aliens/a God, that's a really fucking good one.

Whatever it is, this new lore drop has really really spelled out in big bold letters, that Zayne is thought of as a tool by a LOT of people. Xander Sciences, Astra, even the Dean of the medical academy had a moment there. My poor man even thinks of himself as a tool, one that is meant to save MC (from himself he even says at one point 😭😭😭 like oh my God Zayne stoppppp). He literally considers himself expendable so long as he saves her. Once he's done his job and secured her future, even if that means passing on the ability to save her to someone else, he's fine laying down his life for that.

And that's seriously the saddest part of this whole fucking game imo.

[xjulixred45x]

Hello again, Thank you for answering my first request. May I please request for Yandere Nanami x Frail darling x Yandere Gojo wherein Frail darling manages to escape and tries to hide from them ,but their sickly coughs give them away. How would they handle their darling?

Ohhhh this is very interesting! Im in!

Thank you for the new Request hun❤️

Yandere!Kento Nanami+Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Frail!Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader:neutral

Warnings: YANDERE(kind of soft, it still), UNHEALTY MINDSET, OBSESIVE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATION, Minor intimidation, sickness, kind of infantilization, runaway scenario, SCARY GOJO AND NANAMI. Poly Yandere. A little long.

I have a feeling that you and Gojo and Nanami met in a very arbitrary way. You were someone who was part of their lives on a daily basis.

They probably frequented the same eating places as You, for example.

and to begin with, they were already aware of your fragile state of health from that moment on, if it was not because of your docile and weak attitude, it was because of your sudden attacks of coughing or sneezing.

It made both Gojo and Nanami notice you and in a way think more of you, since you were more likely to be a victim of Curses.

They took care of you from afar at first, like they were SUPPOSED to. It wasn't until Gojo decided to take the "first step" to interact directly with you with the excuse that this would better exorcise the curse that was close to you. (all without consulting Nanami obviously).

To be honest, from the beginning you felt a kind of intimidating presence, from both of them. You had recognized their existences because they were also frequent, sure, but when they appeared and entered your life, they definitely left you a little shabby. off your feet, to say the least.

Gojo was a very playful friend, you realized this before when you were listening to him talk to Nanami, he loved to annoy him and try to get him out of his temper. but with you it was more of a strangely affectionate type of game.

He would tone it down with you (Nanami's advice so as not to scare you), and he also always tried to make you laugh, which was sometimes a bit counterproductive because you would laugh so much that sometimes you would end up in a coughing fit, and with one of the people rubbing you. your back.

Nanami was more reserved, but his presence was no less intimidating than Gojo's, he made himself noticeable in your life, even though he was considerably calmer than Gojo.

Nanami would always want to be aware of EVERYTHING you were going through, especially with your illness. It didn't seem very strange to you, when the people in your circle knew about your fragile state, they tended to become hyper-aware of your health.

You just dismissed it as that, healthy and genuine concern, especially now that you were having trouble staying afloat with your illness.

You just didn't want to feel like a burden to others.

although indirectly you ended up fueling the obsessive thoughts of both men more.

Yandere Gojo, being Yandere Gojo, as soon as he had these kinds of thoughts he wanted to take you as soon as possible, but Nanami VERY CLEARLY set the limits to which they would go.

(Gojo was probably a yandere for Nanami before he knew it was also reciprocal, so Gojo tends to listen to him to keep him happy and not hold him against him.)

Nanami is a more obsessive and softer type of Yandere, but no less terrifying. In less than a day he already had all the information about his illness and needs in "emergency cases."

Even when Nanami tells Gojo that he's not going to tear you away from your everyday life, he doesn't act like that's the case. He buys many medical supplies and even he and Gojo set up a room together with hospital supplies in extreme cases (with Gojo family maids highly trained in medicine).

Kento wanted your arrival "home" to be perfect--

but Satoru hears himself in advance when he came one day alone to see you...

...and he came back, with you unconscious, in his arms.

To say that Kento was furious at first was an understatement.

But he calmed down relatively quickly, because after all, couldn't they take advantage of this opportunity? They would have to bring you sooner or later, even if he had preferred a better welcome...what's done is done.

In more general cases, these two are a kind of "Good Cop" (Kento) and "Bad Cop" (Satoru).

Satoru is extremely clingy now that he has you and Kento to himself, and he doesn't miss a chance to be close to you.

Apart from the fact that he is the one who is home the most, so he is the one who takes care of you the most, ironically.

Yandere Satoru tends to be a jerk from time to time okay? many times more than treating you like someone sick who still has DESIRES and NEEDS, treats you like a baby, wraps you in a blanket, feeds you with a spoon, etc.

(It's not a good idea to refuse your food unless Nanami is there, forcing it down your throat.)

although he is also the one who tends to spoil you the most and the least rude with "time out" precisely because of his own infantilizing dynamics.

He's like "You?? Runaway from them?? Ha!Like it's gonna happen."

Satoru is quite condescending and, above all, he believes that you are too fragile and delicate to get ready on your own, so he does almost everything for you (which makes everything very monotonous since you rarely leave your "room" and your muscles atrophy from lack of use).

He understands better when you don't want to take certain medicines either because they taste bad or because of the effects they can have on your body, so he usually just grinds them into powder (if possible) and puts them in your favorite food, this way he doesn't have to fight with you to take them.

(the food is done by Kento, Satoru canon burns water).

Although don't be fooled, he is very demanding with affection, hugs, kisses, cuddles, nicknames, both giving and RECEIVING, if you want to gain his trust, a good way to do it is to play along.

Kento, on the other hand, tends to be a bit controlling, but he's the one who doesn't swin because he takes the issue of your health very VERY seriously.

Whenever possible, he will be the one to give you medicine, cook for you, help you change, you don't have to do anything. What happens if you get hurt while trying to cook? Or slip when you try to bathe?

The guy is paranoid.

He probably even gave you a pacemaker without telling you so he could have a record of your heart rates in case of an "emergency"☠️

Nanami is gentle when it comes to you, but at the same time he doesn't underestimate you, there are always several locks on the front door, plus the ones on your door, not to mention the monitor he put in your shared room so he can keep track of everything.

Kento always keeps Gojo in line, and in a way makes him more empathetic to your situation, even if he respects him, he doesn't fully trust him to take care of you. You can use that to your advantage, if you want to be away from Satoru for a while just tell Kento and they will "have a talk".

Although, honestly, Kento may be even more Manipulative than Satoru.

For example, using what happened with Haibara in his youth as an excuse, opening up emotionally to you, to manipulate you and make you see that he is "the lesser of two evils."

As far as possible, both are better in what one lacks. That was what prevented a bad scenario. or at least a worse one you were in now, stuck with both of them.

but on one occasion SOMETHING happens...

It was one of the few days when you would be alone for a couple of hours.

It was a golden opportunity to escape.

you went over everything twice, you took out your pacemaker, you evaded the monitor and Satoru's employees, damn, you managed to get outside!

And what seemed like the icing on the cake? Satoru was supposed to be in Kyoto, even if Nanami started searching on his own, he wouldn't realize you were gone until very late.

You ran and ran as much as you could through the streets of Tokyo, occasionally stealing a few items of clothing to change your appearance a little, paranoid that Kento or Satoru were around the corner.

The plan was to go to the train station in Shibuya - hopefully with so many people you would be harder to detect - and take the first train that would take you away from there, to an airport perhaps.

but as you were going down to go to where the trains were, YOU FELT IT.

His heavy preferences were down there... waiting for you...

How did they know that was where you were going? You had no idea, but you fled in the opposite direction again.

you hid in an alley the best you could. with your heart racing and your heart in your mouth as you felt how they were getting closer...

You had some hope, a little, when they were going to continue on....when--.

A cough.

a coughing fit.

You tried to cover your mouth and muffle the sound, curl up into a ball, anything. so --

-"I found youuuu!~"-

Saotru was right next to you...

Kento made a mistake, but don't worry, this wouldn't happen again, you wouldn't be left alone again if he could avoid it, reinforce security, be with you longer! anything for you!

You have no idea how much you worried them! As soon as Satoru received the call from Kento that you had run away from his house, he stopped everything he was doing and went to help him.

Poor thing! You must be so scared being out there alone! You didn't even bring your cough medicine or anything warm. What happens if you get an outbreak from or due to humidity? You didn't even bring a mask!

Good thing they found you in time, right? You are even crying with joy when you see them! They should take you to the Gojo estate as soon as possible and give you your medicine before your throat becomes infected, stop kicking! They know you like to walk but you are weak! you are weak..

you are fragile!

let them take care of you💙💛

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[ateezthings]

Hiiii

Can u do a non idol strangers to lovers scenario for san or seonghwa (or honestly whoever u want) pls🤠❤️

And also dont listen to ur boss ur writing is amazing

A painful meet-cute

Pairings: non-idol!San x genderneutral reader

Warnings: reader getting hurt by accident, blood, medication, San being a slight asshole in the beginning

Word count: 1,4k

Songs to listen to while reading:

cxlt., nuver – rays of light

gibran alcocer – idea 22 (sped up)

amistat – keep your head up

pvris – anywhere but here

the native - time

It was still light out, when you left the office at 8 pm. The sun had been shining all day, so the air was warm, a light breeze dancing through the streets. Some would say it was the perfect summer day.

You had a very stressful day at work, rushing from one meeting to the next. You barely had time for a bathroom break or getting something to drink. It seemed every single coworker had a task for you. Needless to say, you felt drained and in dire need of some food and relaxation.

As you slowly dragged your feet towards the train station, people passed you by, most of them smiling and talking to their friends. What were they so happy about? For you, life recently was simply getting ready for work, working, or getting home from work. These people however seemed to just be enjoying the nice summer evening.

Maybe that was the problem, maybe you should do things again outside of work, that made you enjoy life again. As you boarded the train you couldn’t think of anything that you wanted to do, so you decided to just take a walk along the river. That used to calm you down a few years ago.

Watching the blueish-greyish body of water helped you relax a lot in a short period of time. You watched couples having  picknicks on the grass, people taking their dogs for walks, some were even working out. As you walked along the river you racked your brain for activities you used to enjoy: Reading, going to cute cafes, dancing, meeting friends for boba. All of it lost its appeal when you thought about doing it. You hadn’t realized how grey and dull your life had become.

It was time to make a change. But how could you go about it, when work took up such a big part of your day?

You didn’t have time to ponder any longer, as a strong force suddenly knocked you down, making you fall over, face first. You were so surprised, you didn’t have time to stop the fall. Next thing you knew your nose was being squished on the ground. A throbbing pain started to spread from the center of your face.

“Ow, fuck” You tried to lift yourself up into a seated position.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” When you looked up to where the voice came from, you were met with dark, wide-open eyes. The person was wearing a hat and a black mask.  

“Obviously not, idiot, watch where you’re going, man” You felt hot liquid running down your face. Of course this had to happen to you. Perfect end to the perfect day.

“I’m really really sorry, my friend and I were trying to see who could run faster, and I totally didn’t see you… Shit, your nose is really bleeding”. The guy reached his hand out to you.

With one motion you slapped his hand away. “No need, I can take care of myself”

You got up, careful not to let any blood drop onto your shirt and got a tissue out of your bag. You pressed it into your nostrils. The tissue was full of blood, when you looked at it.

“Listen, I again am so sorry, for running into you like that, but I’m kind of in a hurry, will you be okay?” You picked up genuine regret from the tone of their voice, you couldn’t believe the audacity though. “Ugh, whatever, just go back to where you came from.” And he did.

For the first time, you lifted your gaze to see who the person was. He looked like a modern day ninja, wearing black workout clothes under baggy shorts. There was no telling who he was, as he was already turned away from you and about 20 feet in front of you. He had a broad back though, you had to give him that. Why were all hot people jerks?

…

The next day, you went to the doctor to get your nose checked. It was still throbbing and you were in pain. It turned out to be only a bruise and you should be fine in a few weeks. The doctor gave you a prescription for some pain killers. When you went to the pharmacy to get them, there was a long line of people in front of you. Great, as if you hadn’t already suffered enough.

Alas, you stood in the queue as there was nothing else to do. You scrolled through Instagram for a while. Somehow you were getting a lot of depressed but relatable millennial content on your feed. Times like these really made you scared if social media apps could somehow read your thoughts. No, don’t keep thinking about that brain, can’t go into full existential crisis mode.

Finally, it was your turn to talk to the pharmacist and you handed her your prescription. She looked at it for a while and pressed a few keys on her keyboard. Then she turned to look at you. “I’m really sorry, but it seemed we currently don’t have the exact ones you’ve been prescribed. Can I get you different ones? They’re not as strong as the original ones, but we currently don’t have any other pain killers.”

After you paid for your lower level pain killers you rushed to get out of there. What you didn’t expect was the tall man standing right around the corner, deeply immersed in his phone. You almost ran into him, but were able to stop before anything bad happened. He, however dropped his phone and a little box in surprise.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you there” As you apologized, you looked him in the eyes. Those eyes seemed kind of familiar. Yeah, you had seen them before. It took a second before you realized that those were the eyes of the person who ran into you last night. “It’s you…”

Before you could think of what to say, your phone started ringing. You rushed to pick up the call, it was your boss. “Hello? Is everything alright?” Your boss told you that there had been a series of emergency e-mails being sent to your whole department by one of your most important clients. They couldn’t reach you but had an ‘urgent matter’ to discuss with you. And apparently an ‘urgent matter’ couldn’t wait another hour for you to get back from your doctor’s appointment.

You groaned as you hung up. The mystery man, you almost ran into a few moments ago, was gone. You looked around for him, but found only the little box on the floor he had dropped earlier. It was the exact brand of pain killers your doctor had prescribed you.

…

A little sweet treat after dinner was a non-negotiable to you. So while you browsed the candy isle at the nearest convenience store, you couldn’t decide on just one treat. With your basket of sugary heaven you made your way to the cashier. There was only one person in front of you.

“Oh no, I think I left my wallet and card at home” You heard the person in front of you say.

“Well, then how do you intend to pay?” The cashier person retorted. There were just two vitamin drinks on the scanning table.

You immediately felt sorry for him. You had once been in that situation and it was so awkward and uncomfortable. Back then no one helped you and you were forced to return your items, leaving you with no sweet treat after a hard day’s work.

“I’ll pay for that.” You moved to the front, putting your stuff on the table for the cashier to scan. You noticed the person in front of you staring at you and your enormous amount of candy. You couldn’t care less though, seeing as they were depended on you in this situation. After paying, you put your yield in your bag and made your way towards the exit.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” It was the guy for whom you had just paid for.

“Oh, don’t mention it, I was in that same situation a few weeks ago and no one was there to help me so I was happy to help.”

It was only after you both had exited the store that you looked at him properly. You saw the same broad shoulders, same dark eyes, same black mask on his face. “It’s you again?...”

“Hey, I’m San” He pulled down his face mask, giving you a smile, that sent waves of warmth through your entire body.

...

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking on the phone while shopping?

So this happened months ago but it still weighs on me when I’m reminded of it and I want to know if I was an asshole, if I’m being dramatic, etc.

For context I have PTSD and AVPD (avoidant personality disorder - think social anxiety, but much more intense, lifelong, and you can’t ‘cure’ it or really medicate it).

For a very long time I didn’t leave my house at all. The last year or so I’ve been really working on it and I can do small things like go to a nearby shop, but sometimes I still have bad days where I can’t do that without having someone with me.

I moved into a new place and it was ideally located, there was a small corner shop literally seconds from my front door on the same little street. It was the only store in that area so it was my only option and I was lucky it was so near. However because the area was unfamiliar it really set off my mental illnesses and for the first couple of months living there I couldn’t make myself go out of my home, needing my sisters (who are wonderful) or my partner to bring me basic groceries or go with me.

One day I wanted to take that step but I couldn’t make myself do it completely alone (trust me I tried, I was sitting for several hours with my jacket on trying to psych myself up to go). Eventually I asked my partner, who was too busy to come with me, if they could be on the phone with me while I went - this sometimes helps because it gives me something to focus on that’s not the people around me and lets me feel like I have a lifeline of sorts. They agreed and eventually I worked up the courage to walk to the store.

I got in and had the phone to my ear but was keeping my voice as quiet as I could, though I was the only person in the shop aside from the woman (maybe 50s-60s) behind the till, so I didn’t feel as bad as I usually would about disturbing other shoppers etc. I picked up basic stuff, got to the till, put the phone on mute and put it down on the counter so I could have my hands free to bag things up.

The woman was acting a little weird, just kind of short and giving me looks, but I was just kind of trying to get out as fast as possible so I didn’t think too much of it. I asked her if I could have a bag and she didn’t seem to hear me. Asked again and she said okay. After she’d scanned everything she scrunched up my receipt and went to throw it away and she noticed I was still hesitating, so she asked if I’d wanted to keep it and I said “No sorry I’m just waiting for the bag”

And she just. Blew up.

She started screaming about how maybe if I’d been paying attention to her instead of my phone I would have asked earlier, how I was rude, how it ruined her day to have customers like me. For the first few seconds I remember kind of weakly smiling because I thought she was being jokingly mad, because that’s how absolutely out of nowhere it was - just 1-100 in a second. I still remember the look in her eyes when she was shouting at me, like… I can’t even describe how much genuine anger and hatred was in her face, her eyes were twitching and she was genuinely shaking with anger. Raised voices and anger in general are one of my biggest PTSD triggers so this just… broke me. She was holding my groceries to her chest while I kept trying to reach for them so I couldn’t leave and I just had to stand there and let her shout. Another customer came in so I didn’t even feel like I could argue back so I just grabbed my stuff and basically ran home and then broke down.

I was completely back to square one and I felt like it instilled that I couldn’t leave my home and be independent because the first time I’d gotten the courage to go out mostly-alone this had happened.

I didn’t want to put in a complaint because I didn’t want to be That Person, but my mother ended up calling the manager on my behalf and after she followed up he said he’d spoken to her but no more detail than that.

For the rest of the time I lived there I didn’t go back to the store even with people except on hours I knew she wasn’t there, because my sister ended up asking around the area and someone told her they knew who she was talking about because she had a reputation of being “like that” and gave her her working hours so I could avoid her.

I eventually moved away again and didn’t need to use the shop anymore, but this was brought back again because a few weeks ago I was passing through with my sister and we dropped by so my sister could grab something, and the woman was there again stocking shelves. As soon as she saw me she completely stopped what she was doing to just stare at me, then started aggressively throwing the things onto the shelves before going back to the till. My sister would probably have said something if she’d been rude in front of her, but she was completely fine to her and served her politely.

I didn’t really realise how badly it was still affecting me until then because I was just standing frozen in front of the door waiting to be able to leave and my hands were shaking really badly.

So AITA for being on my phone in a shop and being rude? The reasons I think I could be TA are that she treated my sister perfectly fine, when I told family about it afterwards some of them said that in her defense being on my phone while shopping was pretty rude, and I got my mother to complain to her boss about her (even though I don’t think she got in trouble I think she was probably mad about this)

What are these acronyms?

[missmeinyourbones]

GUARD DOWN

cw: atsumu gets his wisdom teeth out and is annoying, brief mentions of pain medication, surgery, mouth wounds, etc

Atsumu is far heavier than he looks, which—given the fact that he’s built to be a 6 foot olympic athlete—is already decently heavy. 

After anxiously entertaining yourself in the waiting room for an entire forty-two dreadful minutes, one of the assistants had alerted you that your boyfriend had finally come to and that his wisdom teeth removal went as smoothly as it possibly could’ve gone.

The news has your body swelling with relief, though you can’t help but bite your tongue at the irony of it all. Nothing about Atsumu is smooth—from his boisterous tongue to his calloused palms, your boyfriend is not typically seamless. 

From the second was escorted out of the dental chair and reunited with you, he was all exhausted cries and senseless babbles.

The nurses were kind enough to help you wheel his loopy self out to the parking lot, after debriefing you on his healing process and the steps needed to care for his tender wounds.

Reaching the side of your passenger door, you assured them you were capable of putting him in the car yourself, not wanting to inconvenience them with his dazed antics any longer. Good at their job, they kept reassuring you that it was their pleasure, that it’s normal for people to be a bit out of it after their wisdom teeth removal, but Atsumu’s whiny behavior was—for lack of a better word—embarrassing. 

With his dead weight slumped on your side and fifteen minutes of complaining down the drain, you somehow managed to wrangle him into the passenger seat of your car. 

You secure his seatbelt, before racing to the driver’s side and locking the doors, unsure if he’d try to escape within the few seconds you weren’t by his side. 

Which is where he sits now, slumped against the glass of the window with a mouth full of pink gauze. He watches the outlet malls and fast food restaurants you pass on your drive home with intense concentration. You barely hear him through his stuffed mouth, his words are sluggish and mumbled. 

“M’hungry,” he carries the last syllable with a whine, “can we get McDonald’s?”

Giving a tight-lipped smile, you softly deny his request, “No.”

He groans like a child being denied a sweet—and for a second, you think he can read your mind as he’s perking up with the sudden inquiry of, “Wait, can we make those cookies later?”

Again, you have to play bad cop and turn down his giddy offer. 

“We can’t, no.”

“Lame,” he groans before prodding at the pillowy cotton with his finger. Before you can swat his hand away from the gauze, he continues his accidental interrogation. “I feel drunk, can we get drunk tonight?”

“No—”

“Oh my godddddd,” the complaint growls from the back of his throat, but it’s hard to find it intimidating when it’s muffled and dazed. 

He shakes his head with a stubborn attitude, “Do you know any words other than no?”

Your eyes shift momentarily from the red light before you and to the pouting man beside you. 

“Atsumu,” you warningly scold.

“See, there you go,” he points a finger. “That’s a good word to know, Atsumu,” his name dances foreign on his tongue, as if it isn't his own. As if he doesn’t hear you say it a thousand different ways every single day. When he’s annoying and sweet and raunchy and tired and everything in between. 

Though irritating as ever, his mumblings remind you that he’s still a bit loopy. You take a deep breath, “You can’t drink alcohol, or eat anything solid right now,” you softly remind him. 

His face scrunches in genuine confusion, “Why?”

You gesture to his already swelling cheeks, “Because your mouth needs to heal.”

“My mouth?”

“Yeah,” your voice is delicate, grounding, as you try your best to jog his memory, “you got your wisdom teeth out, remember?”

Atsumu’s face instantly drops from confusion to disappointment at your words. A pout pulls at his lips—as much as it can with his numbed tongue and sore jaw. 

“Fuck,” he slouches further into the window. 

You bite back a grin, “What’s wrong?”

His voice resembles a kicked puppy as he sulks in his own misery. A muffled confession comes out tiny from his chapped lips, “All my wisdom’s gone.”

The streetlight turns green once more and your attention is redirected to the road. You’re about five minutes away from home, maybe eight with the given traffic. Though the ride is minute, there’s no way of knowing how many more waves of emotions Atsumu is willing to sail through.

“Well lucky for you, I have plenty to spare,” you attempt to cheer him up. “And you’ll be back to eating regular stuff in no time, just gotta be patient these next few days.”

“Well, what can I eat?” he slurs his syllables. 

“I picked up some soft foods from the store. Pudding, applesauce, mashed potatoes—”

“Ice cream?” he interrupts you, head snapping from the window to your side profile with bright, expecting eyes. 

You bite your lip to hide your grin. “Maybe,” you tease, “if you’re nice to me.”

Another groan falls from his lips before his head presses against the cool window for the umpteenth time. 

He groans, “M’always nice to ya.”

He’s silent the rest of the way home, saying nothing when you stop at a few more red lights and pass his favorite lake—the one he jogs around on weekend mornings. 

You almost think he’s fallen asleep, that is until you’re parked in your driveway and opening his door. 

His doe-eyes stare back at you, not tired in the slightest but still foggy with an uncertain aloofness. Through tiny encouraged whispers of arms up and excuse me’s, you work your way around his torso and to his buckle. 

He watches you intently through heavy lids as you unlock his seatbelt. He looks like something sits heavy on his tongue, but you know he’s still half exhausted and half high on pain medication, so you decide to let him initiate any small talk, if he pleases.

It slightly surprises you when his hand lands on your shoulder. Looking up from where his thigh keeps his seatbelt strapped in place, you find his eyes suddenly misty.

“Hey,” he softly demands your attention. “Do y’like me?” 

His voice is small, uncharacteristically tiny as his lip wobbles with emotion. 

Your body moves before your mind can catch up. You cradle his jaw in your hands tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure on the still sensitive area before cooing into his worry. 

“Yes, baby. I love you,” you sweetly press a kiss to his nose, then forehead, not wanting to hurt his swollen mouth.  

Atsumu’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head, “Love?!” he squawks, “Holy shit.”

Your eyebrows raise as you shoot him an amused grin, “Why? Does that surprise you?”

His lips are still slightly pouted as he nods his head. “A little, yeah,” he trails off in embarrassment. 

“Why?” you encourage. 

He’s quieter now, fiddling with his hands like a small child, “M’annoying sometimes.”

Your heart is filled with an odd combination of heartbreak and admiration all at once. Your lover, still as sensitive as ever, never fails to express his true emotions. He’s always been great at communicating his feelings to you—though it’s rare for said feelings to be one’s of insecurity. He still trusts you with this side of him, even when confused out of his mind.

You find yourself getting teary-eyed as well as you tease him through a sniffle.

 “Sometimes,” you nod in agreement. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” you remind him, “and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough, baby.”

Atsumu’s skin instantly brightens with a blush while he tilts his head in pride as if he wasn't just sulking in your hold.

“No, ya do,” he dismisses your tender words with a sleepy grin, “I jus’ like hearing it extra.”

With your hand for support, he slowly swings his body around the passenger seat so his legs dangle out of the car door, shoes scraping against your gravel driveway. 

Before you can begin to stand him up, he’s circling back to a prior thought. 

“So can we get McDonald’s, now?”

[sugaredrhubarb]

Reading with Ru: Aug/Sept Fic Recs

I know I'm certainly in need of some positivity and escapism lately, so I'm gonna try to do semi-regular fic and book recs! Starting with a retroactive what I've been reading from the past couple of months with this account! (I might go back in time and make an all-time rec list later)

COD

starting with cod because i know most of you go here

Sergeant Squeaks by @charliemwrites - (series of one-shots ghost x reader and price x reader separately) both one of my favourite reader characters and my favourite canon setting depictions of Ghost and Price. their own weird brands of showing love are wonderful; the tension leading to getting together is fantastic, and the sex is super enjoyable.

Ghost Stories by @kneelingshadowsalome - (ghost x medic!reader) I'm repeating myself, but I love Salome's writing. This is where I was first introduced to it, and I think it's really special. Ghost POV as he struggles with developing and then accepting love. felt so real and grounded. angsty and then fluffy, and you can't help but adore the reader as well.

saltwater by @ceilidho - (ghost x reader) It's pretty unlikely any of you don't know Ceil, but on the off chance you haven't given this one a read yet, it really is a must. I lump praise on her pretty regularly, but I don't know anyone who is able to portray their character's emotions as intimately as Ceil. her ghost feels really grounded in all his complexity. there is a common theme in these recs of really enjoyable reader characters, and this is not an exception; the reader feels like a full but still ambiguous character who is vulnerable and strong and really great.

don't leave me locked in your heart by @ohbo-ohno - (ghoap x reader dark!) we all know bo, we all love bo. I always love the way she depicts ghost and soap's dynamic changing and evolving to include the reader. the descent into dark territory in this is really really fun. It's also just hot and well-written! if you haven't read it before, go read it, and then go read all of bo's drabbles and asks on here. genuinely one of my favourite dark but still fun writers. I think she balances it really well.

body electric by @yeyinde and Afterburn by @sprout-fics - (141 + Los Vaqueros x reader) a classic. I've returned to these so many times. sometimes you just want to read dirty, filthy, well done, smut and then warm cozy aftercare. not to wax poetic about pure sex (except that's exactly what one should do), but I think it can be really hard to write group sex like this and still have such insightful and individual glimpses into each character and dynamic, and Lev does it wonderfully. and then it's also hard to find good aftercare fic, and Sprout's feels like literal aftercare for both the reader character and the reader.

other fandoms

tried to curate to themes i think overlap in some of the cod works! and I think most of these can be read fandom blind.

i revisited @winterrose527's fic in August, and even though she already knows how much I love her work, I won't skip a chance to repeat it. Anna writes for asoiaf and is pretty much the queen of Robb Stark/Myrcella Baratheon, but I would say the modern AUs (my favs) can be read almost completely fandom blind. Any contemporary romance enjoyer would love her work. I'm really partial to her kid/single-parent fics. I think it's so hard to get right, and I always adore reading her kid characters and how she approaches love stories when kids are involved. anna's works are always brimming with love and incredible platonic, familiar, parent-child, and romantic relationships (if kid fic isn't your thing she also has a ton of other great fics). personal favs: We Could Be a Little Something, And There They Are, All the Same

Lawless by @goldcranes - (arthur morgan x ofc) age difference, cowboy love story, essentially a romance novel. if goldcranes has no fans, I'm dead. I encourage you to explore her work; very few people write as strongly across multiple fandoms as she does, and each of her works feels like a really strong love story with special characters.

The Odyssey by @sunlightmurdock - (bradley bradshaw x reader) 1980's roman literature prof x virgin student - no need to know top gun. katie's work is another entry in the 'feels like it stands really strongly separately from the source material' category. she has multiple ongoing AU's that I really love, but this one is a favourite. i think she does complex characters really well - their actions always feel intentional, and as flawed as they are, I always love them.

Wouldn't it be Nice by allyoops - (m/f captive A/B/O) if you aren't reading original works smut on ao3 you are missing out and allyoops is a great place to start for noncon, dubcon, age gap, taboo etc. enjoyers. they have a ton of works; usually one shots with lots of really delicious dynamics and different settings and tropes.

An Intoxicating Presence by FormerlyIR - (mob a/b/o haladriel) MOB. A/B/O. HALADRIEL. picks up with Halbrand in prison thanks to undercover FBI agent (and his mate!) Galadriel. does that sound crazy and awesome? well it is. mix it with Gal's internal struggle, the added complication of omegaverse, and overall great writing. really fun and really damn good.

civitas terrena by banalityofweevil - (darklina) angel Alina on an exploration of love in immortality with fallen angel Aleks. honestly, it's just a must-read for enjoyers of writing. incredibly creative with divine (literally and figuratively) imagery. i think one of my comments was on the precision of lulu's diction and I really stand by that.

tinsel into gold by ribbonedhare - (darklina) ddlg and cnc friends, this changed me. it is so warm and soft and my god, is it good. just scrumptious.

Be My Babydoll by KittyDruthers - (darklina) ddlg dollification need I say more

check the reading with ru tag for more!

[acescorazon]

Crocodile x Mihawk x Buggy fic idea for you: Mihawk and Crocodile are stunned when they each discover both Yoru and Crocodile's gold hook missing. The both of them immediately suspect that Buggy did something. Pissed six ways to Hell they go looking for their "fearless leader". They find him in one of the workshops and all anger is replaced with astonishment when they find Buggy polishing Yoru to a radiant shine, while Crocodile's hook hand is already gleaming like it's been kissed by the sun itself. When they get closer, Mihawk is quietly stunned to see that Buggy has gone so far as to rewrap the hilt of the strongest blade in brand new gleaming white leather. Buggy does his best to be non-chalant as he explains that he simply wants his " Lieutenants" looking their best as he hands Crocodile his hook and assures Mihawk he's almost done polishing Yoru. The gesture actually shifts Mihawk and Crocodile's attitude towards Buggy after that. Before he knows it, Buggy is the one getting stunned when he winds up with the world's strongest swordsman and the former but still formidable leader of Baroque Works declaring that they are both in love with him and mean belong to him just as much as he does to them. Cue the absolute chaos that somehow becomes a genuinely loving throuple and a true for to be reckoned with in the pirate world.

IK WE'VE ALREADY TALKED BUT HI AGAIN POOKIE LOL. Anyways this is going to be another one of the requests i turn into a little series, if you didn't see the post where i went into more details click here. (That's if you want to, you don't have to LOL.) ALSO PT2 this is going to be the series i was talking about where i'm going to try and experiment with alternating POVS as mentioned here.

Anyways i hope everything goes well, and i'm going to debut the first three chapters before we get into anything serious, (but again, as mentioned before, i want everyone's feed back please so i know this is something yall might want again in the future. ((OR MIGHT NOT LOL) ) ) I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS THO POOKIE AND ILY MUAHHHHH.

AWYWHOREEEEEE LETS GET IT.

Title: Buggy's guide to bagging boyfriends

Ch: 1/?

Rating: PG-ish for now ig (But let's talk later about it.)

Word count: 2835

Chapter except:

The room fills with tension as the two other members of Cross Guild glare at him, and Crocodile is the first to speak up, “Where’s my damn hook?!” He asks, and even though it's first thing in the morning, his voice is still, loud, deep, and intimidating, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in a good mood… but, then again, Buggy doesn’t think he ever is. Mihawk follows suit, asking his own question afterwards in a significantly quieter, yet equally as intimidating voice, “...And why do you have my sword?”

Well, so much for the surprise...

It’s not like Buggy’s a workaholic or anything like that, he’s far from it actually. It’s just that even after he’s done doing his duties for the day, he often finds it hard to shut his brain off at night. He often tosses and turns in his bed, thinking about what he has to do in the morning or for the week, and sometimes finds himself wanting to get a head start on things. Tonight, he finds himself in another one of those situations, unable to sleep no matter how hard he tries because he keeps on thinking about Cross Guild and all that he has to do.

He has to have new weapons and medical supplies ordered, and he also has new men to welcome into the crew, each of whom he has to find a job for because Mihawk and Crocodile, while skilled in many things, aren’t big fans of doing the more simple tasks; like assigning their men jobs or giving them pep talks, or sending their families money after they’ve made an enemy out of themselves for attacking the marines. Damn, he has more bounties that need to be made too, and he has old ones that need to be taken off the market.

There’s so much to do, and part of him wants to go to sleep, but another part of him also wants to get back up and get right back to work again. It’s weird. 

Two, three, and then four o'clock, quickly passes him by as he continues to think about all that he has to do. He feels full of energy right now despite the fact that prior to lying down, he felt exhausted. He kept yawning and could barely keep his eyes open, but now, as he lies in his bed, it seems like he can’t fall asleep no matter how hard he tries. It seems like his previous exhaustion was just a sick prank his brain played on him. Thanks, brain. He continues to think about Cross Guild, he wasn’t exactly serious about it before. He was more or less just in it because he needed to repay his debt to Crocodile, but now… Well, he can’t say it’s the worst thing in the world. 

It has its cons of course: Mihawk and Crocodile are always bullying him, plus they make him run around like a chicken with its head cut off, doing what could only be considered more of a manager role than the big boss role, but Buggy kind of enjoys it actually. It makes the days go by a little quicker because he has so many things to do and men to look after these days, and he thinks his responsibilities are only going to grow in the future. 

His thoughts shift slightly, and he goes from thinking about all the things he needs to do to thinking about his ‘subordinates’ and his relationship with them. Buggy’s always had a rather rocky relationship with Mihawk and Crocodile but…It’s not like he would be opposed to being their friend or anything like that, the two just never seemed interested in anything other than a work relationship (or beating him up.) But maybe if Buggy actually put in an effort to be their friend, they could fix things and this Cross Guild thing could really kick ass! Perhaps if he did something nice for them, they’d stop hating him and see that Buggy’s not that bad of a guy after all. 

Should he do that? 

He finds himself wondering if he should just give this whole Cross Guild thing his all, you know, make the best out of a bad situation because he’s not going anywhere any time soon… Maybe there are ways to make his, Mihawk, and Crocodile’s relationship better, like, maybe he could get them all matching red cloaks, that’d make them look like a flashy team, right?? Okay, they’d probably kill him on the spot if he did something like that. Oh, uh, maybe he could gift them some sake! Wait…They’re kind of snobby and only drink aged wine or some crap. Uh, uh… what could he do for them? 

A sudden idea pops up in Buggy’s mind and he glances over at the clock by his bedside again, wondering how in just a few short seconds it went from four in the morning to almost six. Gah, time doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t matter right now.

What are the most important things to Crocodile and Mihawk? Why, it’s their hook and sword of course! Well, actually, he’s pretty sure the most important thing to Crocodile is money and power, but that doesn’t matter! What if he shined their things for them!! That would be nice, wouldn’t it? And then they would definitely stop hating him and being mean to him, right? They’d have to! They’ll want to be his best friend if he does something that nice!! Buggy will give Crocodile’s hook and Mihawk’s sword a nice shine, and then they’ll be all like, ‘Oh, my god, Buggy. You’re so amazing, you’re so wonderful, you’re so sexy and smart, we love you!!!!’ Okay, wait, they probably won’t do the last thing, but Buggy can hear their praises now.

God, he’s so smart. 

Buggy hops out of bed, quickly gets himself dressed, and then makes his way out of his tent. The island feels so calm and peaceful right now as his men continue to sleep in the early morning hours. Everything is deserted and quiet, and Buggy enjoys the scenery, finding Emptee Bluffs island the most beautiful during early summer mornings such as this. Buggy just so happens to notice that the sun is just barely beginning to peek over the horizon as he heads to Crocodile’s tent first, and he takes a moment to admire its beauty before continuing on with his tasks. He's so excited for this! He’s going to have two, not one, but two, super cool best friends!   

As Crocodile’s tent comes into view, Buggy’s heart starts pounding in his chest because, despite knowing he has nothing but good intentions, he knows that if Crocodile were to discover what he plans on doing, then he’d wring his neck for sure. So, he quietly sneaks into Crocodile’s tent, and in his room, he can just barely make out the soft sounds of snoring coming from over at his bed. Perfect, Buggy thinks, hoping that there might be a chance that Crocodile doesn’t sleep with his hook on, and as he crouches down and makes his way slowly across the dimly lit room, he notices the object of his desire lying right on top of Crocodile’s nightstand. 

Perfect. He’s going to be so surprised! Buggy’s going to just take this for a little while, but he’s going to make sure he returns Crocodile’s hook, and of course, Mihawk’s sword, before either of them realizes that their belongings have even gone missing! 

Buggy quickly snatches up Crocodile’s hook, clutching it close to his chest, and then goes after his next target: Yoru. He thinks things might be a little more difficult considering that Mihawk may very well be awake at this time since he seems like an early riser, and Buggy has often seen him taking morning walks around the island or getting a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. It’ll be alright though, maybe he’ll be asleep or out of his tent. Buggy wastes little time making his way over to Mihawk’s tent, peeking his head in first to see if he’s awake or even inside, and when he realizes that his tent is empty, but Yoru is resting against the side of his bed, he grins, grabbing Mihawk’s beloved sword and quickly making a run for it.  

Buggy can try to hide Crocodile’s hook but, obviously, it’ll be a little hard given its size, but there’s no way that he could possibly hide Mihawk’s sword, so he makes a quick run for it towards one of the island’s workshops, grunting on the way there from the sheer weight of both items. He looks around the shop once he’s inside, searching for some polishing cream and a rag, and struggling for a moment because he doesn’t usually come to this place. Usually, he just stops by for a few minutes to check up on his men, so he doesn’t know where anything is. Everything is so familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, but he eventually finds what he needs and begins working on his surprise, having a seat on a stool and polishing Crocodile’s hook first.

He grunts again as he holds the heavy metal in his hands, wondering how Crocodile can even use this as a prosthetic with how heavy it is. He thinks it has to be at least a good thirty pounds alone, but that’s none of Buggy’s concern, he just took it so that he would be able to give it the shine it needs. Not only does giving this bad boy a good shine seem nice, but wouldn’t it be cooler if Crocodile engaged in battle with the Marines or even one of the mighty four emperors (not Buggy though.) and he had the coolest, most shiniest, most bad ass hook the world’s ever seen?!

Hell yeah, it would be! Crocodile is going to look so freaking cool thanks to Buggy!!! 

He polishes the hook once, but it honestly doesn’t look shiny enough the first time around, so Buggy decides to polish it again, and then actually a third time because he wants that bad boy to shine like a diamond…even though it’s gold. It doesn’t matter, he just wants it to look pretty. He wants it so shiny that light will bounce off it and blind people, that’s how shiny he wants Crocodile’s gold hook to be, and as he finishes polishing it, he smiles to himself, now a little sweaty because of the poor ventilation in the workshop. 

Buggy moves on to Yoru next and as he holds the sword up, he once again takes the time to mentally complain about the pure weight of the object alone, wondering how Mihawk carries the damn thing on his back all the time without having any problems. He must have a spine made out of steel.

(Buggy wishes he could say the same.)

Buggy stares at the sword, admiring its beauty for a moment before lying it down on the workbench in front of him, he notices as he begins to polish the blade that the bandages around the hilt are a little ragged and dirty now, most likely from how much its owner uses it, and Buggy gets another idea in his head at that moment, wondering if there’s anything that he can rewrap the hilt of the sword with. He figures that he’ll worry about that a bit later though as he begins to polish Yoru, and just like with Crocodile’s hook, Buggy can’t help but think that the sword would look so much cooler and prettier if it was shinier. Like, yeah, it’s already stunning, but it just needs that extra layer of flashiness to really make it stand out, and so he takes his time polishing the blade, shining it until it’s bright and pretty, and so dazzling it makes Buggy’s eyes hurt, and once he’s done he looks for something to rewrap the hilt with. 

It takes him a little while, but he does eventually find some white leather that he thinks could probably be used to wrap the hilt with, and he begins to unwrap the bandages from around the sword, which, by the way, takes a whole lot longer than Buggy thought it would.  He eventually manages to get the bandages wrapped around the hilt off though, and then proceeds to wrap, and unwrap, and then wrap the sword again. He does this several times because this too, isn’t as easy as he thought it would be, but he slowly starts to figure out how to make the leather around the hilt look juuuust right...When all of a sudden, he hears loud, quick footsteps coming from the outside of the tent, but he figures it's just his men ready to start their day. 

How long have I been here? Buggy wonders as he continues to wrap Yoru’s hilt. He doesn’t have a watch on him, but he doesn’t feel like he’s spent that much time in the workshop, maybe because he’s genuinely enjoying himself and likes the idea of possibly making Mihawk and Crocodile happy? 

“Hey, Clown, you in there?!” 

Buggy pauses in an instant. Crocodile…? He wonders, taking a moment to figure out who the gravelly voice that just called out to him belongs to. Oh no! The surprise, it’s going to be ruined if he doesn– 

Too late. 

Mihawk and Crocodile come barging into the tent, both red in the face and looking like they want to snap Buggy’s neck but to be fair, they always look like that. Buggy pauses for a moment and stares up at his two chief officers, unsure of how to explain himself now that he’s been caught. Damn it, he really thought that he could get everything done before they realized their stuff was missing!! Seriously, how long has he been in the workshop?!

The room fills with tension as the two other members of Cross Guild glare at him, and Crocodile is the first to speak up, “Where’s my damn hook?!” He asks, and even though it's first thing in the morning, his voice is still, loud, deep, and intimidating, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in a good mood… but, then again, Buggy doesn’t think he ever is. Mihawk follows suit, asking his own question afterwards in a significantly quieter, yet equally as intimidating voice, “...And why do you have my sword?”

Well, so much for the surprise... 

Buggy places Yoru down for a moment as the other two former warlords approach him, and he notices how their expressions go from unbridled rage to pure confusion in a moment’s notice as soon as they get a little closer to him. He stands up and picks up Crocodile’s hook first and hands it to him, “I know I shouldn’t have taken your stuff,” He admits, and both Mihawk and Crocodile’s confusion only seems to grow, “But I just suddenly thought to myself: ‘Wow, i want to do something nice for them so that maybe we could be friends…and that you guys would look so cool if your weapons were all clean and shiny…” He chuckles lightly for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain how he got ahead of himself, but everything was all out of the goodness of his heart.

 

 “Seriously, guys, i was hoping that i could get everything polished before you even noticed your things were gone, but obviously that didn’t happen…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his head, “But, yeah, i wasn’t trying to make you guys mad or anything, just wanted you to look cool and to be friends!”

There’s absolute silence after Buggy’s explanation. Crocodile looks down at his hook, twisting and turning it in his hand as he examines it, and then suddenly he mutters a quiet, “Whatever, just don’t steal it again.” before he makes his leave, and honestly… Considering this is Crocodile we’re talking about, Buggy feels like things went a lot better than they could have… but still, he’s a little disappointed at that reaction. Was Crocodile’s hook not shiny enough? Or is he just really upset that Buggy stole his hand in the first place? Ah, shucks… Maybe he messed up. Maybe he should have done something else for him instead…Is his relationship with Crocodile going to be even more strained because of this? 

Aw, man. He hopes not! 

Buggy turns to Mihawk next, who is still staring at him speechlessly with wide eyes. He gives him a small, little smile, hoping that he hasn’t screwed things up with Mihawk too, “Uh, no offense, but the bandages around your sword were a little worn out, so uh, i thought i’d rewrap your sword too. I’m almost done, just give me a second,” Buggy tells him and then sits back down on the stool he was using, quickly finishing his job and wrapping Yoru’s hilt tightly, and afterwards he stands back up and gives Mihawk a proper grin, hoping that he might be a little more appreciative of his gift. “There! All done,” He says, handing the sword back to its owner. 

Mihawk continues to just stare at him even after he gets his sword back, and honestly, Buggy didn’t do any of this for a thank you or praise, even though that would be nice, he did this because he genuinely wanted to change things between him, Hawkeye, and Crocodile…So, he’s a little shocked when Mihawk simply sighs before quickly leaving the workshop too, not even saying another word to Buggy.

…So, are they not going to be super cool best friends?

((A/N: Hopefully this isn't ASS.))