#his sentence being cut off by projectile vomit

[gblogg]

These little fics mean a lot to me!! @bellysoupset

Posting this and running away

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"What is this?" Jonah chuckled, gesturing vaguely to the image in front of him. This was easily the weirdest thing he had seen in a while.

Leo was inside the bathtub, with no water, in the middle of the day, wearing just his boxers, head leaning back and scrolling in his ipad.

"Hey," the blonde turned his head slightly, voice all soft, "missed you."

How could Jon not melt around this man? He entered further in the bathroom, crouching down to kiss his fiancé and Leo grimaced and pulled back, causing Jonah to whine, "what the hell?"

"You don't wanna kiss me," Leo cringed, "I ate something weird and it messed with me. I just puked," he gestured vaguely to the closed toilet with his head. Jonah raised his eyebrows, surprised.

Leo didn't look sick... But now that Jon looked closer he could tell the sweat clinging to his temples and over his lip. Instead of pale, he was flushed in a slightly unnatural way, specially given how cold their bathroom was.

"Is that why you're in the tub?"

"Yeah, still feel pukey," Leo groaned and slid down in the tub, resting his feet on the opposite end and dropping his ipad to the side. Now that it was no longer blocking Jonah's view, he could tell his fiance's abs were slightly bloated, the usual line separating its quadrants all but faded, "I don't know what's wrong with my office, you'd think such a fancy building would have a decent catering."

Jonah grinned, collapsing down on his ass instead of staying crouched down and leaned in to push Leo's hair back, away from his sweaty forehead. The blonde let out a happy noise at the hair pet, "why don't you come to bed? You can feel sick in the bedroom, where it's comfy."

Leo snorted at that, turning his head so his cheek was pressed to the cold rim of the tub and going boneless as Jonah petted his hair, "bedroom feels too warm, was making me claustrophobic."

"And the bathtub is not?"

"You may question my methods, but not my results," Leo smiled, looking up at him and grabbing the ditched iPad, "I want a March wedding."

"Okay?" Jon moved on the bathroom floor, stripping the thick wool vest he was wearing over his shirt and removing his belt so he was more comfortable, throwing them on top of the sink, "why March?"

"Because I don't wanna wait until October next year," Leo pouted, turning on the screen. Before Jon could question why March and October were the only options, Leo said, "I made a pinterest board."

Jonah couldn't stop smiling, it was embarrassing and hurting his cheek muscles, "you made a pinterest board," he echoed, amused and endeared to hell and back. Leo glared at him, pushing the iPad in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with this stupid smile and look at the board," he tapped the screen, then curled up with a grimace and planted a hand on his stomach, pressing slightly and bringing up a sick burp, "god..."

"Should I move from the line of fire?" Jonah squinted at Leo, noticing the way he was gulping down.

The man shook his head, taking another gulp, "swallowing air," he cleared up, "not gagging."

"Counter intuitive if your stomach hurts, no?"

"Trying to burp," Leo cleared up with a strained voice, digging his fingers in his tummy, until another little sickly burp came up, "urgh, it's stuck."

"My husband, the romantic," Jonah teased him with an eyeroll, then scooted closer, "sit up, let me thump your back."

"Like a baby?" Leo snorted, but obeyed and let out a pleased noise as Jonah started doing exactly that. A couple pats in and he brought up a large, brassy belch.

"UUruorup- Fuck, that felt nice," he hung his head between his knees, breathing out in relief, "look at the board."

"Bossy," Jonah glared at the side of his head, then actually looked at the board. It was a collection of farmhouse weddings and hotels and event-centers... None of it looked very Leo, "uhm- these are the ones you liked?"

"You hate them," Leo sighed, "I don't know, everything I'm able to find is either those ultra girly things that only Wendy could like or, if I search for gay-wedding, it's like they're competing to see who can be more cringy."

Jonah cackled at the bitchiness, earning himself a smile, "this is nice," he leaned against the tub, all but sprawled on the bathroom floor and pointing a picture of a tall, reflective ballroom. Leo draped himself over the edge, squinting at the screen.

"That's a cathedral, Jonah," Leo said dryly, "I'm not gonna get married in a church, thanks."

Jon let out a scoff, "it's in your board!"

"As inspiration! Because I like-" he cut himself off with a nauseated gulp, "the-the tall ceilings..." Leo's voice trailed off and he raised a hand to his mouth, the other one darting up so Jonah could help him up.

Jon was up in a flash, grabbing Leo's hand to hoist him up and leaving the iPad on top of their sink, while the blonde fell to his knees before the toilet and gagged weakly over the water.

He cringed in sympathy as Leo retched and a thin dribble of colored in spit fell in the water, causing him to say in a thick, nauseated voice, "Oh god..." then gag once more, bringing up a mouthful of frothy, beige vomit. Jonah gulped down against the knot in his throat, forcing his gaze away and planted a hand on Leo's naked back. He was covered in cold sweat, muscles seizing under Jon's hand as he continued to heave for another five minutes.

Leo let another sickly burp, the groaned and collapsed forward, causing Jonah to scramble to grab him by the shoulter, "don't split your head open, Leo!"

"Uhhmm, wasn't gonna..." He scoffed, pressing his forehead to the cold porcelain, "I still feel so queasy..."

Jonah hit the flush, then combed his fingers through Leo's sweaty bangs, touching his cheek and forehead inconspicuously. He wasn't feverish and Leo let out a little snort, "I know what you're doing, Dr. Banks..." he blew out another soft burp, "I wanna go to bed but I'm all sweaty..."

"Couch?" Jonah suggested and Leo lifted up his head, considering it for a minute before nodding.

"Yeah okay, help me up..."

It was a bigger hassle than expected, as Leo washed his face and brushed his teeth, only for the toothbrush to send him into another gagging fit, but eventually they managed to move into the living room and Leo collapsed down on the cushions with a sigh, "Jon..."

"I know, I know," he grinned, sitting next to the man and planting his hand on his boyfriend's bloated belly, "tummy rub."

"You're the love of my life," Leo said in a pleased tone, eyes slipping closed as Jonah started rubbing his hand in a soft, gentle circle over his distended abs. It wasn't much of a massage, but he was afraid of putting too much pressure, with all the angry gurgling going on inside.

JD, who had been very busy chasing her toy mice, perked up at the sudden company and jumped on the couch as well, meowing and stepping on Leo's thigh in order to headbutt Jonah's chin.

"She's ignoring me," Leo groaned, pressing a hand on his stomach, "I stepped on her tail earlier."

"Well, I can't blame her," Jonah scoffed, kissing the top of JD's head, "Leo didn't mean it, baby."

As if she understood him, JD crawled on Jon's lap, nuzzling the inside of his arm and letting out a happy meow. Leo opened his eyes to glare at the cat, pouting.

"It was an accident! I was rushing in," his stomach let out a loud growl and he squirmed, gulping down, "Jon..."

"Shit, give me a second," Jonah sprung up, taking JD with him, and rushed to their kitchen, in order to grab a bowl. By the time he made it back, ten seconds later, Leo had his eyes squeezed shut and was breathing slowly through his mouth as if he was giving birth.

"Here, here, here-" Jon pushed the bowl under his chin and Leo grabbed it with sweaty fingers, but didn't immediately retch. Jonah cringed, planting JD down and moving so he wasn't directly looking at the bowl, but could help Leo hold it up, "baby?"

A nauseated hiccup shook the blonde's frame and he let out a moan, leaning forward and drooling over the bowl, "fuck..." he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, "my stomach hurts."

Jonah frowned, not liking this one bit. He hated the strong feeling of concern, over something so dumb like food poisoning, but he couldn't help it. Leo worried him always.

"Leo, no, don't do that!" Jonah groaned, as he realized his fiancee was shoving a finger down his throat to trigger his gag reflex, "don't force it-"

Leo shook his head, pulling back his hand and burping wetly over the bowl, "I can feel it in my stomach..." his voice was thick with queasiness and he hiccupped again, his belly letting out a disgusting wet sound, "Urgh, fuck..."

"Can I h-" he never finished that sentence, as there was a sudden wet noise in the back of Leo's throat and the blonde folded in half, projectile vomiting in the bowl.

He hung over it, panting as if he had just ran a marathon, before letting out a dainty little burp and another impressive stream of sick fell from his lips. Leo let out a whimper, coughing, then sighed, "Holy fuck... I feel tons better," he said hoarsely, causing Jonah to let out a disbelieving snort.

"Are you sure?" Jon scoffed, biting down a gag of his own, his mouth watering like crazy at the gruesome sight. Leo nodded, forcing up another burp.

"Yeah... Like crazy better," he rolled his shoulders, then let out a whine, "aw angel, you look grey. Sit down, I can clean this up-"

"No, I'm o-Oo-" Jonah interrupted himself with a retch and Leo let out a little giggle, planting a kiss in the inside of his wrist, since his boyfriend was sitting on the couch's arm, and slowly getting up.

"You're fine, uh?" He chuckled quietly, grabbing the bowl and gingerly walking to the bathroom to empty it out. Jon let out a humiliated sigh, sitting down on the couch and staring at his feet. He thought he was over this, he hated when Leo was feeling sick and his body decided to attention seek.

His belly clenched and he brought up a little sickly burp, breathing out slowly against the prickles of nausea... "Hey," Leo crouched in front of him, between Jon's knees, "you're okay? Are you sure it's just sympathy sickness?"

"Yep," Jon gulped down, nodding, "are you-"

"Really, I'm fine. That's on me for being too lazy to cross the street to go to the restaurant that I know won't make me ill," Leo rolled his eyes, leaning in and hugging Jonah by the waist.

In this weird position, with his boyfriend down to his knees in the rug, it was easy for Leo to drop his face to his lap and Jonah leaned back, starting to pet the golden waves of hair, "don't take this badly," he said slowly, while Leo sat down on the ground, leaning his head back to keep getting his hair petted, "but you suck at event planning."

Leo let out an offended huff, but didn't say anything and Jonah folded in half to kiss his forehead upside down, "I'm gonna take this from you and I'll scout for a location, okay? You worry about the damn flowers or what not."

"Anything more inconsequential you wanna hand me?" Leo pouted, causing Jon to grin and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Test me and I'll put you on water duty," he teased, before falling back against the couch, "so March?"

"Yeah, March," Leo smiled, then let out a little pleased sigh as JD sniffled his hand and came to sit on his lap.

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL (2023)

This is a fancy found-footage movie, but first we start off with a little documentary about a 1970s late-night talk show called “Late Night with Jack Delroy.”  We follow his career and learn that he’s a member of “The Grove,” a “Bohemian Grove” knock-off.  Then Jack’s wife dies of lung cancer, despite being a non-smoker!  Jack takes a little break, but then he returns to his show.  Unfortunately, his ratings don’t compare to those of Johnny Carlson (who, if you don’t know, dominated late-night TV for several decades).  The narrator then states that we’re about to watch the footage of Jack Delroy’s Halloween 1977 broadcast.

We then proceed to the meat of the movie, the broadcast of the show, but during commercial breaks we then watch behind-the-scenes discussions.  Anyway:

First Segment: Jacks starts off with his monologue, and we meet his sidekick, Gus.  Jack’s first guest is then some dude named “Christou,” who is a psychic.  Christou performs some readings for the audience, but it’s clear that he’s just a huckster.  However, as his set is ending, he seems to have a real psychic reading!  He mentions someone named “Minnie.”  Cut to commercial!

Second Segment: Jack’s next guest is Carmichael.  He is a former magician, but now he goes around debunking purported psychic phenomena.  He argues a bit with Christou and calls him a fraud.  Christou storms off the stage, but before he can leave he projectile vomits over the stage.  Cut to commercial!

Third Segment: Christou is gone, but now Jack talks about a book called “Conversations with the Devil.”  We watch a film clip of a Satanic cult run by a dude named “Szandor D’Abo.”  Jack then brings out Dr. Jill (the author of the book) and Lilly (the subject of the book).  Lilly was a child member of that cult mentioned in the previous sentence, and she’s just creepy, mostly because she seems to have no social filter and likes to stare at people. 

Fourth Segment: Jack continues to interview Dr. Jill and Lilly, including talking about the demon that apparently lives inside Lilly.  It’s not the main demon of the cult, Abraxas, and Lilly calls it Mr. Wriggles.  Carmichael, the skeptic, expresses skepticism.  Jack eventually browbeats the reluctant Lilly into summoning Mr. Wriggles on-air. 

Fifth Segment: Two chairs are set up on stage for Dr. Jill and Lilly.  Lilly is tied to her chair.  Dr. Jill hypnotizes Lilly, and then the demon appears!  Lilly’s eyes are different, and the skin of her face is cracked.  She speaks with two voices.  She talks about Jack’s past and his dead wife and then speaks profanely.  Dr. Jill slaps the demon out of the Lilly, but then Lilly levitates in the air!  The demon finally leaves and cut to commercial!

Sixth Segment: Before we come back Jack is informed by the producer that the ratings are through the roof!  Back on air, Jack, Dr. Jill, Lilly, and Carmichael argue a bit.  Jack gives Carmichael the chance to prove his point, and Carmichael cajoles Gus, the sidekick, to joining him on stage.  Carmichael shows Gus a little hypnosis wheel, and then he is hypnotized!  Then worms begin to crawl out of Gus’s body.  A huge worm burst out of his face.  Carmichael says, “Dreamer, here!  Awake!” and the worms are gone!  Carmichael explains that he hypnotized the entire audience, not just Gus, and they trot out a TV to watch a replay, where we see Carmichael just talking to Gus about worms.  Lilly is upset and says that maybe they should watch the footage of their demonstration.  Jack bumps the last guess and agrees.  They rewatch Lilly’s possession, and they see that it wasn’t faked!  It actually happened!  They see a single frame where Jack’s dead wife appears behind him as an apparition.  Carmichael is pissed, because he thinks that the entire thing has been set up.

But then the lights go out!  The lights come back and Lilly is surging with energy.  Her head splits open and she is the demon.  Gus tries to banish the demon with his necklace cross, but the demon twists his head around 180 degrees.  Lilly next turns on Dr. Jill and levitates her in the air by her own necklace.  The audience begins to run out as the necklace slices the woman’s neck open.  Carmichael, meanwhile, bows before the demon, but it immolates him.  Jack flees the stage.

He finds himself back at the beginning of the show, and then we step out of the show.  (We can tell because we switch from the old 4:3 TV proportions to the modern wide-screen film proportions.)  We watch scenes from the little opening documentary, but everything is weird and strange.  We see him talking to his wife again, and she accuses him of “forgetting.”  Jack is then at a ceremony of “The Grove,” and a guy in an owl mask hoots at him.  We then see Jack’s wife on her deathbed, and she explains that Jack made a deal with “The Grove” for success, but the cost was her life!  She begs Jack to kill her, because of the pain, and he stabs her with a dagger. 

But we are then back in the TV show.  Jack has stabbed Lilly with the dagger.  Everyone else has been killed by the demon.  Jack says, “Dreamer, here.  Awake,” but he does not wake up.  The transmission ends, and the TV tells us, “So it is done.”

This was good.  Reading up on its production, to include creating a vintage-style set and utilizing both equipment and techniques from a bygone era, you can tell that the entire production was a labor of love, an homage both to horror movies and late night talk shows.  I can remember Johnny Carson.  He was an old dude with a bemused expression who asked guests questions about their new TV shows or movies.  It wasn’t anything too exciting.  This alternate universe version of such a show was fascinating.  The acting and the plot were excellent.  The commercial break segments broke the found footage conceit, by showing us things beyond the camera’s view, but that was a rule worth breaking in this case.  This film was a vision of Jack Delroy’s desperation to be famous and what that cost him.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (16) || atz

The three of you are walking along in town.

Unsurprisingly, after the crazy celebration the night before, majority of the crew had woken up with massive hangovers, most retching over the side of the ship or trying to nurse pounding headaches. To be honest, the only ones who weren’t drunk were you, Seonghwa and Mingi.

Technically, Yeosang hadn’t been drunk either, but he had left for town earlier in the morning to go search for Wooyoung, who still hadn’t returned to the ship. When you had started to worry, Yeosang had simply reassured you that this was normal Wooyoung behavior, and he’d have their head gunner back on board before the ship set sail.

The biggest problem was, however, the fact that the ship’s resident healer was also suffering from a hangover.

“You’re such a lightweight, master.” You had chided him this morning as he groaned in his bed, half buried in a mountain of stuffed plushies. “Everybody needs you to cure their hangovers, you know?”

“You can do it, apprentice.” San mumbled weakly from beneath a pig stuffed toy. “You have a good master.”

“Red ginseng, lemon and ginger tea and prickly pear cactus.” You recalled diligently from your studies, glancing at the lump that was your master. “Am I right?”

The only answer you got was a snore in response.

So, that explains why you, Seonghwa and Mingi are together, walking along the town’s marketplace, searching for a hangover cure for your poor crew mates. Seonghwa had offered his services to help you carry the groceries back, while Mingi simply didn’t want to get in the way of his crewmates’ projectile vomiting.

You don’t blame him. The stench was absolutely awful.

“So, what are you looking for?” Seonghwa asks as you make your way through the crowd. There’s a soft buzz in the air, a little subdued, but you chalk it up to being early in the morning and that nobody is quite awake yet.

“Opuntia, or prickly pear cactus.” You tell him as you weave through the throng of people selling their wares at every corner of the long street. “Its fruit helps to ease hangovers, so that’s what I’m looking for.”

“Anything else?” Mingi asks, checking through his coin pouch. As the quartermaster and also the treasurer, all funds go through him before being spent.

“Lemon, honey and ginger.” Bending over to check out some of the fruits, you study a lemon carefully for any defects and put them in your basket. “I’m also looking for red ginseng to reduce hangover severity, but it’s an eastern root herb, so it may be a little difficult to find here.”

“We are in the Caribbean, after all.” Seonghwa remarks, using his superior height to his advantage as his eyes scan the multitude of stalls selling every sort of exotic plant, fruit, and even animal. “I do recall seeing a shop selling eastern herbs the last time I was here, though.”

“Ah, Master did tell me to make sure we stock up on eastern herbs if I found any!” You chatter excitedly, turning to Seonghwa. “Did you see any worm grass (cordyceps) or fish bladders (fish maw)?”

Seonghwa nods, a smile blossoming on his face. “Yes! I can’t believe I even found some dried black mountain ants there!”

Mingi stares at the two of you with a weirded out look on his face. “I’m not even going to ask any questions. None at all.”

“There, I see it!” Seonghwa points over the heads of the crowd at a stall tucked all the way at the end of the street, his grin widening. “We did it, Chin Hae!”

The two of you exchange high fives and dash for the stall faster than Mingi can blink. He simply sighs, following the pair of you at a more sedately pace, shaking his head dryly. “Are all cooks like this…?”

When he finally does catch up with the two of you, you’re gushing over the different herbs and spices with Seonghwa, picking up a piece of black root that looks suspiciously like a thin, black stick. You hold it to Mingi’s nose.

“Hey, Mingi-hyung, look what I found!” Mingi frowns as he stares down his nose at it, going a little crossed eyed. It’s black, thin and looks rather boring. Mingi doesn’t understand why you’re so excited over it at all.

“A stick?” He answers, a little befuddled to what it could be to get you so excited about it. Seonghwa clucks his tongue disapprovingly, reaching to take the stick from you and waving it in front of Mingi’s face.

“No, Mingi.” The cook shakes his head dramatically, brandishing the stick as if it is the cure to all the world’s troubles. “This wonderful, powerful herb is the cordycep!”

Silence.

“It looks like a stick to me.” Mingi grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. Honestly, he’s never been one for herbs and medicines like San is, but that’s why they have San and Seonghwa and now you, right?

“Yes, but you don’t get it!” You cry in horror, waving the black stick at him. “The cordycep is a worm-”

The quartermaster freezes, his eyes widening as he takes in the black thing so close to his face.

Then he screams like a ten year old girl and dives behind a stack of barrels, as if you’ve just pulled a musket at him.

“Uhh, Seonghwa-hyung?” You turn to the cook, who’s simply shaking his head in amusement.

“He’s afraid of insects and the like.” Seonghwa nods at the too tall shape that is Mingi crouching behind a cask of alcohol, his eyes peering over at the worm in your hand like a cat staring down a bath of water.

You can’t help but laugh at the sight as you turn to the shopkeeper and order a tael of cordyceps, red ginseng and ginger. Honestly, you would have never thought that the silent, strong quartermaster was afraid of insects.

The shopkeeper smiles at you. “Know your herbs, do you, dear?” She packages the dried herbs into paper and ties each up with a red string, before passing them to you. Each package is worth its weight in silver or more. “A gold coin and three silvers.”

Mingi carefully counts out the money before diving back into the relative safety of his barrel fort.

“Honestly, Mingi-hyung.” You say, going over to him. He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the paper package that he knows has the cordyceps inside of it. “These are dead worms. The cordyceps are actually just fungi that grow on the worms.”

“Dead, alive, stuffed with mushrooms, worth a thousand golds, I don’t care.” Mingi hisses, eyes still trained on the bag like he’s ready to fight them. “I hate insects.”

You and Seonghwa burst out laughing at his hostile tone.

“Alright, alright.” Seonghwa steps towards the quartermaster. “Let’s get back to the ship and brew up a nice lemon honey ginger tea for the rest, shall we-”

Suddenly, a small boy shoves into you, knocking you to the side abruptly before dashing off. To your horror, you feel the package of herbs being torn from your fingers, the force leaving rope marks on your skin as you stumble to the ground, hands barely saving you from a nasty fall.

“Hey!” Mingi shouts, but the boy is already fleeing. He glances at Seonghwa. “Hyung, you and Chin Hae take the other way from the square, I’ll cut him off.” Then he pauses for a moment, staring at the cook, his gaze softening in worry. “Will you be alright, hyung?”

That seems like a strange question to ask, but Seonghwa must understand what he’s talking about because he nods, already pulling you in the opposite direction towards the town square. “Don’t worry about me!”

The two of you dash through the street, where people are filing out of their houses. It’s rather easy to move, considering that everyone is moving towards the town square, the same direction the two of you are. You simply move with the flow, following the crowd to the main square.

“There must be quite some commotion happening.” Your crewmate huffs for breath as the two of you tear along the town, bumping into several other people and apologising furiously. You’re sure one of them even curses you rather creatively in his native tongue.

“There are a lot of people today.” You pant, glancing around you as the pair of you finally emerge in the square. There weren’t this many people the last time you and Jongho had come to town, so you’re a little puzzled. “Why-”

Suddenly, the ringing of the town bells fills the air.

You’re instantly jerked back by the hand on your wrist and you nearly stumble to the ground. You turn back to stare at him urgently. “Seonghwa-hyung, we need to hurry!”

But Seonghwa merely stands still, face bloodless, lips moving without sound. You’ve never seen him like this, so afraid, so petrified with fear.

He looks so emotionally raw, bloody, haunted by the ghosts of his past.

You turn to look at Seonghwa in worry. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. “Hyung? We should be going.” But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His eyes are wide and unfocused, dark pupils dilated with fear, his breathing erratic and irregular. You tug at his hand once more, only to jerk back in shock, it’s slick with cold sweat. Your blood turns to ice inside you as you take Seonghwa’s face, cradling his cheeks with your hands. Your voice is gentle, afraid of pushing him over the edge into whatever abyss he’s dangling over.

You’re terrified.

“Hyung

? What’s wrong?”

His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving. He doesn’t look at you. His eyes are fixed on something behind you, and you turn to see what could have possibly caused him to react in such a manner.

“-and I hereby declare the sentence will be carried out now.”

There’s the sound of a lever being turned, the squeak as the trap doors swing open.

And the noose jerks taut.

A soft whimper leaves Seonghwa’s mouth, and suddenly he squats on the ground like a small child, hands over his ears, shaking his head desperately as he whispers the same words again and again under his breath.

“Hyung!” You cry out in horror and panic, kneeling next to him to wrap your arms around him. What do you do? What’s happening to Seonghwa-hyung? He barely seems to be aware of your presence anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers between soft, quiet sobs, raw and hoarse, from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re completely confused to why he’s apologising to you for a moment, until he begins to mumble names you’ve never heard under your breath. “I’m so sorry, mother, father, Hyunjung, Ha Rin.”

The last word is a wail, a cry of utter torment, so desperate that it yanks at your heartstrings, demanding you to do something, anything! But you don’t know what to do besides embracing him, watching him rock back and forth on his haunches like a deranged man.

There are tears winding down his face and you raise your hands to wipe them away as fast as you can. The sleeve of your shirt soaks with warm wetness, and suddenly, that same, tight agony wells up in you as well.

A single tear spills down your cheek.

“Seonghwa-hyung-” You manage to croak, your throat thick from unshed tears, but the older man merely stands as if in a daze, hands still over his ears as if that can stop him from hearing the sounds of the man at the noose slowly fading from this world.

Then he runs, tearing away from you without looking back.

[legobiwan]

Obi-wan trial ficlet (part 2)

As I was lying in bed last night - wholly unable to sleep - I was visited by the spirit of writing at 3.30am. And thus, have this not-so-little extension of the “Obi-wan on Trial” ficlet. Note, I have basically no plot plan for this whatsoever, but since my imagination was running wild on insomnia and delirium, I figured I’d at least get something from my grand total of an hour’s sleep.

---

Cody glanced at his chrono for the fifth time in as many minutes. According to the General’s plan - which was disturbingly short on details - they were going to rendezvous here at approximately 1700 hours. Another fifteen minutes, give or take.

Already Cody’s gut was twisting with anxiety. Approximately and give or take weren’t standard vocabulary in the General’s lexicon, at least not when it came to missions, which Obi-wan usually had plotted down to the millisecond. But earlier today, the General had waved off Cody’s concerns with a breezy smile, promising that everything would make sense later on and that time on Coruscant was a far more flexible matter due to the proclivities of certain indolent politicians. 

In any other circumstance, the minor sleight would have set off alarm klaxons in Cody’s mind. The General, while as human as anyone else once one peeled through the many layers of reserve and Jedi stoicism, did not openly scorn other sentients, at least not without good reason. There are as many truths, as many realities, as there are points of view in this galaxy, he had once told Cody on a rare diplomatic mission. 

Politicians, however - Coruscanti politicians, to be precise - seemed to be exempt from that axiom. 

Not that Cody could blame Obi-wan, especially given the events of the past few days.

That Commander Tano had been implicated in the bombing of the Jedi Temple, that she had been arrested, twice by his fellow vod - Cody shook his head, still in disbelief. It was insanity. Commander Tano could no more kill innocents than Cody could dance the Dha Werda Verda with Count Dooku. 

And somehow, that event had led him here on the General’s mysterious orders, Commander Tano having been dragged away to some secret trial in the Jedi Temple, Rex, Cody, and the rest of the men not having seen nor heard anything from her since her recapture and imprisonment.

Impossible. She was innocent, the General would make sure of it. 

Still, that didn’t explain why he was stuck in the bowels of the Senate Judiciary wing, armed with a small artillery of grenades along with his standard blaster, an unregistered speeder sitting in the delivery bay just past the loading dock entrance. 

All part of the plan, Obi-wan had said. 

Cody had a bad feeling about this.

A minuscule change in the vent airflow caught his attention, and Cody glanced up, peering into the faraway flat-bottom discs that rose tall into the main chamber of the High Republic courtroom. Years on the frontlines of the war had honed his already well-engineered senses, which were attuned to the slightest crunch of a leaf or the faint odor of lubricant, all small clues that could be the difference between life and death, of victory and defeat. Not that he was expecting a battalion of battle droids to come stomping through the Senate, but if Obi-wan had him on guard duty down here, it had to be for a reason.

That reason, Cody realized with growing horror, was a speck plummeting through the narrow chasm of support beams and ventilation ducts. “Incoming 270, point-oh-eight vertical, approximately 80 kilograms, projectile type unknown,” he muttered to himself, drawing his blaster, his left arm bent at his chest, weapon perched on his forearm as he lined up the shot...

Damn! he cursed as the figure twirled out of range, swallowed by the long shadows of the podium base. Again, Cody did some quick math, calculating the likely trajectory of what he belatedly realized wasn’t a weapon, but a sentient. Sure enough in his estimate, the clone ran to the support spire, flattening himself along the opposite side of where he thought the figure would land. It was too dim to get a full visual on the being, but Cody had held the best record in the GAR’s echolocation target practice for three years running, and didn’t need to see his mark to hit his mark.

Taking a deep breath, the clone swung around, gripping his blaster with two hands, arms extended in front of his chest. 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me, Cody.”

His blaster faltered, barrel drooping towards the floor. Cody’s eyes went wide as moons.

“Sir?”

Obi-wan Kenobi brushed off the front of his tunics, adjusting his utility belt before pushing a few loose bangs behind his ear. "There will be plenty of time to be shot at later," he explained. The Jedi made a "follow me" gesture, striding past Cody, making towards the exit with long, hurried steps. 

Cody felt as if he were glued to the floor.  

"Ahh...is everything okay, sir?" he asked, his earlier anxiety returning with a sickening flourish. Obi-wan spun around, placing his hands on his hips. 

"It won't be if we don't get moving," he snapped, his face folding in uncharacteristic open irritation bordering on outright anger. Cody's stomach swooped downwards. Okay, really not good, whatever this is.

"I trust you were able to acquire the speeder?" Obi-wan asked, glancing behind Cody. Checking for enemies, the clone assumed.

Cody jogged to catch up with the impatient-looking Jedi. 

"Yes, sir," the clone replied, defaulting to a standard, no-nonsense military tone. He would ask the General what was going on later, after the danger had passed. For now, they - he, at least - would to stick to the safety of military protocol and communication.

Obi-wan gave a slight nod. In the light, Cody could see the man was exhausted, his eyes bruised with fatigue, his face drawn. Still, there was something different about the way the General was holding himself, something in the sharp blade of his voice, an edge of danger Cody didn't think he had ever heard before. 

Distant echoes of frenzied shouting and hectic orders rang above them, followed by the familiar thunder of bootsteps. Obi-wan swore under his breath as the airflow shifted yet again, heralding the arrival of at least one, if not two newcomers. 

"Let's go," he said, breaking into a full run. 

Minutes later, they were in the borrowed speeder, catapulting through Coruscant's skylanes like a hyperactive Kowakian monkey. Cody gripped the side of the vehicle as Obi-wan made another ninety-degree turn, powering into the capital's main thoroughfare, nearly taking off the heads of at least three other drivers as he cut in front of a luxury-length rec speeder, tossing in a rude hand gesture as a bonus.

"Sir?" Cody yelped, wrenching his gaze to Obi-wan in astonishment. The Jedi's brow was furrowed in intense concentration, the momentary aberration in his  behavior already forgotten. 

"Get those detonators ready," Obi-wan ordered, terse. "On my signal."

Oookay, then, the clone took a deep inhale, giving a minute shake of his head as he fished out the explosives. This was definitely not the time to talk about whatever was going on, but once they had achieved their mission objective - whatever it's supposed to be, Cody thought sourly - he was going to have words with the General. 

Up ahead, the twin spires of the Republic holding facility came into view. A drab, depressing building notable only for its multivariate shades of grey and permanently smog-stained transparisteel windows - General Skywalker had once described it as being "like a Hutt vomited twenty years ago and no one cared enough to clean it up."

Beyond its charming aesthetics, however, the Republic holding facility was also notable in that it served as a transitionary custody space for those awaiting sentencing from the High Republic Courts. Cody's throat went dry. They wouldn't have put Commander Tano in there, would they? No, that was ridiculous. If Commander Tano were being held here, it would mean she had been found guilty, that she was only waiting to hear what her prison sentence would be. Or worse, Cody shivered. No, he refused to believe the Commander would commit such a heinous act and doubly refused to believe the General would allow her to be convicted of false charges.

They were nearly parallel the building now, Obi-wan bringing the speeder almost flush against the high, electro-barbed walls, sending sparks of energy flying as the Jedi inched the edge of the vehicle dangerously close to the barrier.

"Now, Cody!" 

All clones knew they had been bred for this war, to fight, to serve the Republic. While the clones themselves exhibited the same level of variation of personalities, of likes and dislikes as any general populace, all clones also knew that above all, they were bound by loyalty and duty. To their fellow vod. To the Republic. And to the Jedi they served under. 

Which was why Cody didn't think twice before lobbing a fistful of high-output grenades straight into the Republic holding facility's main generator on Obi-wan's command. 

Cody watched in stunned silence as there was a cataclysmic burst of light, the electro-barbs racing to a sharp peak before fizzling out, grimy stains rendered invisible as every bit of energy and electricity around not only the building, but the entire sector died out with a pathetic whine. 

What the kriff? Cody gaped.

The clone whipped around to demand an answer, to know why he had just bombed a Republic prison facility on the orders of a Jedi, of a High General. Of my friend, Cody grit, betrayal stabbing deep into his lower abdomen. 

But his furious storm of words died on his lips as Cody stared down the wrong end of his own blaster, muzzle only centimeters from his forehead. It didn't escape the clone's attention that the setting had been switched to "kill."

"I am very sorry, Cody," Obi-wan apologized, his voice almost preternaturally calm. "But for both our sakes, this needs to look convincing."

Cody froze, his brain refusing to process the visual input, the aural evidence, the logical conclusion that should have drawn from the situation. He was in a speeder. He had just bombed a Republic prison on Obi-wan's orders. Obi-wan was pointing a lethal weapon at him. And...Cody stretched his ears, not daring to take his eyes off the apparently insane Jedi in the next seat.

Those are CSF sirens, he realized, stomach sinking. Nu draar...dini'la jetti haar'chak! This wasn't a Republic-sanctioned mission, probably wasn't even a Jedi-sanctioned mission. This was...

Cody had no idea what this was.

He briefly considered taking a chance, throwing himself on Obi-wan to attempt to wrest control of both the blaster and the speeder from crazed Jedi. But a single flinty glare from Obi-wan stopped that plan in its tracks. On a normal day, the General was far more dangerous than many people gave him credit for. Cody didn't want to find out what he was like when that self-imposed restraint was dropped.

The next few moments passed in bizarre silence, Obi-wan weaving through skylanes, blaster never wavering from Cody's forehead. At one point, he slowed in front of an official city surveillance droid, letting the little machine take a good, long look at the bizarre drama unfolding in the front seat of the speeder. Obi-wan then gave the camera a slanted grin and jaunty salute before hitting the accelerator, pulling back on the yoke, sending the speeder plummeting down at least twenty levels. When Cody's stomach had made it back to his abdomen from his throat, he noticed the blaster was gone.

"Did I ever tell you," Obi-wan began conversationally, "about the time I flew a small transport through the corridors of a mining spaceship?"

Cody gawked at the other man. He truly had gone insane. 

"It was quite the mission, on Pijal. I must have been, oh, sixteen, seventeen at the time. I swore off flying forever, although Qui-gon never let me actually make good on that promise." Obi-wan shook his head. “Typical.”

The sirens, which had been gaining a dangerous amount of ground on their escape vehicle, were no longer audible, their wails having blurred into the usual, busy hum of Coruscant's normal traffic.

Normal, Cody almost laughed. Wouldn't that be a thing?

They were probably at least five hundred levels down now, maybe even more, the sky long since having disappeared from view, neon lights and the bright ends of spice sticks offering a cheap, counterfeit sun. 

Obi-wan swung the speeder into a narrow alley, cutting the engine with a satisfied sigh. 

"The thing about that mission, Cody,” he said after a moment, “was that it was my first real experience with the sticky, ambiguous substances that grease the wheels of the Republic. I, of course, acted in accordance with the Jedi, and thus the Republic government, earning myself only the ire of my Master, the betrayal of a monarchy, and nearly costing me my life," Obi-wan chuckled, a dark, cynical sound that set Cody's teeth on edge. What was going on? 

Obi-wan hopped out of the speeder, giving a small grin as he shrugged out of his out Jedi tunic. "How times change, I suppose."

Cody didn't move to follow, didn't say a word in response. He sat, staring at this person who was, on the surface, Obi-wan Kenobi, but in no way resembled the man he had come to know. Or, at least, thought he had come to know. 

His agitation must have been visible, probably the equivalent of a Gungan marching band in Force, as Obi-wan paused, a dark blue, long-sleeved tunic with a high collar pulled halfway over his head. He stared at Cody for a moment before finishing the movement, smoothing out the material of the unfamiliar garment over his chest. 

Obi-wan stepped forward with a small sigh. "And now Cody, I suppose I owe you an explanation."

The half-apology - words that sounded like Obi-wan, even if they came from a man who didn't resemble him at all - pulled Cody from his emotional stupor, fires of disbelief stoking somewhere deep in his chest. In one smooth movement, he hopped out of the speeder, striding to Obi-wan, fists clenched, teeth grit, his face so close to other man's Cody could feel the Jedi's hot exhales on his nose.

Obi-wan regarded him with muted curiosity. "Do you intend on striking me?" he asked. 

"I'm really tempted to," Cody grit. "Sir," he added, not quite able to break the habit.

"Then let me offer you a compromise, of sorts. We should be safe here, for the time being, at least long enough for me to provide what I hope is an explanation of today's turn of events. I do not expect you to like it, nor to necessarily agree with it, but certain circumstances have pushed me into a situation where a decision - a monumental decision, I may add - had to be made."

"If, after hearing me out, you wish to strike me, you are most welcome to, as I do believe you have earned that right. You will also be free to leave and return to the 212th at that point. That little stunt with the security camera should serve as more than enough evidence that you were coerced by a renegade Jedi and I am certain you will be welcomed back into the GAR with open arms."

"However," Obi-wan’s expression darkened, the drawled word imbued with an almost sensuous promise. "If, after hearing me out, you find yourself - " he cocked his head back and forth, pretending to be searching for the right language. "Sympathetic to my plight, then I would welcome your expertise, skills, and company."

Cody took a small step back. That...kind of sounded more like the General - the negotiation, the smooth justification. Certainly, Cody hoped Obi-wan had a reason for all of this, that he hadn't completely snapped or worse, gone dark. He didn't seem like Ventress, or Dooku, but Cody didn't know enough about the Sith or the dark side to make any kind of real judgment call.

But even with the promise of finally getting some kind of explanation, there was another question that had been niggling at the back of Cody's mind since this all began, brought forward by Obi-wan's sudden invitation. 

"Why me, sir?"

The inquiry apparently took the Jedi by surprise, his eyebrows rising in some odd combination of amusement and approval. "Because, Cody - I trust you. And I hope you will feel the same way after I explain just what has happened in the past few weeks."

[jolexfanfics]

Jo gives birth on Valentine’s Day 😂

Alex inhaled with a satisfied smile as he put the finishing touches on the meal he’d prepared for his wife. Usually he and Jo hated Valentine’s Day and considered it a holiday for amateur couples but it was their last holiday together before becoming parents and Alex wanted to do something special.

He had gone full out with the cheesiness: sprinkled rose petals up to the bathroom where he had a hot bubble bath for her, cooked one of her favorite pregnancy dishes for dinner, and got her chocolate covered strawberries with non alcoholic champagne for dessert. He had also set up a prenatal facial and massage for her the next morning since she had officially started her maternity leave.

Alex swiftly multi-tasked, turning off the stove as the timer went off while pouring himself a glass of champagne and lighting a candle on the table. He smiled to himself as he heard the garage door open and Jo’s car pull in.

Jo groaned as she fumbled with the door and her bag, cursing to herself as she felt a tightening pain in her lower abdomen. She ignored it as best as she could and turned the key in the door.

“What a day. It’s like everyone was trying to send me into early labor.” Jo whined, stepping through the door. 

“First, a kid projectile vomited on me, bright and early this morning, then right after—” She paused, suddenly smelling the aroma in the kitchen and noticing Alex had not only cooked a full meal, but was also dressed in an apron covered in hearts.

“Alex Karev…” she dropped her bag on the ground, a smile instantly spreading across her face.

Alex turned around, meeting her gaze and mirroring her smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day. You look beautiful.”

“We never celebrate Valentine’s Day. And I look like a cow.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my wife like that.” Alex set the spoon down on the stove and walked over to where Jo was standing. He pulled her into a hug and she melted into him. She nuzzled her nose against his chest and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to be home.”

“You’ll be sick of it by the end of the week.” Alex smirked and pressed a kiss to her hair.

Jo laughed in agreement and nodded. “Probably, but right now I can’t wait to eat whatever smells so good and lay in my bed.”

“It’s fettuccine alfredo, and there’s a bath and chocolate covered strawberries waiting for you upstairs too.”

Jo pulled back to look up at him, so happy she could almost cry. “Wow, are you single? I could marry you right now.”

Alex rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning down to kiss Jo. He pulled her tighter, smiling as he felt the baby kick in between them. They stood there for a moment, swaying back and forth as they enjoyed what would be their last moments of silence. “Go upstairs, I’ll bring the food to you.”

Jo grinned as she made her way upstairs, noticing the candles and flower petals that decorated their house. She made it halfway up the stairs when she suddenly felt the twinging pain in her abdomen again. She held onto the railing and took a few deep breaths. A sudden wave of panic washed over her, realizing she still had three weeks to go and wasn’t ready in the slightest. She pushed the thought away as her pain subsided and went into the room to change.

Jo threw on one of Alex’s shirts and her favorite pair of shorts and tied her hair up in a bun. She collapsed on the bed, letting out a sigh of relief as she surrounded herself in their pile of pillows. Alex followed soon after, carrying a tray full of food along with the bottle of non alcoholic champagne and a glass of water. 

“Babe, this looks amazing. You didn’t have to do all of this.” Jo grabbed her plate off the tray and took a bite, nearly moaning at how great the food was. “God, this is too good for words.”

Alex settled in next to her, digging into his own plate. “I know you’ve been stressing about work and the baby, so I just wanted to take your mind off it all for a bit.”

“You really know how to treat a girl, Karev.” Jo took another bite but paused suddenly at the pain that started to build. She tried her best to be discrete, but as it got worse, Alex couldn’t help but notice.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” Jo took a few small deep breaths, not meeting Alex’s gaze. “That bite was just really hot, that’s all.” 

She looked up at him as the pain subsided and tried her best to put on a reassuring smile. Alex nodded, but watched her for a moment as she went back to eating her food. He kept an eye on her as they finished their dinner, silently making mental notes every time she paused or winced and timing them in his head. He was actually impressed at the amount of excuses she was able to come up with in just a matter of fifteen minutes.

Jo set her plate on the nightstand, gripping the side of the bed with one hand and gently pressing her other hand into the side of her belly. She let out a shaky sigh as she looked up and met Alex’s gaze. “Alex…..I really don’t wanna ruin tonight, but I think -“

“You’re in labor.” Alex finished her sentence. Jo nodded wordlessly in response.

“I’ve been timing your contractions. You can’t really hide those.” Alex smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Do you wanna go to the hospital?”

Jo quickly shook her head with a frown. “I wanna enjoy the rest of our Valentine’s Day.”

They spent the rest of their night in a limbo. They walked around the house, Jo bounced on the ball Alex had gotten for her just weeks ago, and even ended up doing a couple laps around the neighborhood. All the while Alex stopping to massage her back during contractions, letting Jo lean on him, and even using him as a punching bag during the really difficult ones. Although it wasn’t what either of them had expected or planned for Valentine’s Day, they had both enjoyed just being together.

When they had finally ended up back in their bedroom, Jo was exhausted. She was just on the brink of sleep when she was suddenly jolted awake by the most painful contraction and with that one came the urge to push.

Alex walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. He had hoped that they could finally sleep before probably going to the hospital in the morning but instead, he found his wife doubled over in pain. He threw the towel into the hamper and ran over to her. “Jo? Talk to me.”

He kneeled down by Jo’s side and grabbed her hand. She looked down at him as tears filled her eyes. “The baby’s coming right now.”

Alex’s eyes widened and he tried not to panic. He stood up and attempted to pull Jo up with him. “Let’s go, I’ll call the hospital on the way.”

“No!” Jo tugged on his hand, wincing in anticipation at the contraction that was coming. “I mean right now. I have to—” She let out a low moan as the contraction hit her. At this point, she was playing tug of war with her own body. “Alex….I have to push.”

Alex cursed as he saw the seriousness in Jo’s eyes. He panicked for a moment before jumping into instant doctor mode and let his new father instincts kick in.

“Shit, okay. Look at me.” He took Jo’s chin in his hand and met her eyes. “Don’t push yet. Let me at least call 911 and get some stuff together. Just breathe, give me a few minutes, and then you can push and cry and beat me up as much as you want, okay?”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Jo nodded with tears in her eyes.

Alex leaned in to kiss her before bending down to kiss her belly. “I can’t either, but we got this. I love you.”

Jo focused on her breathing and tried to remain calm as Alex made a few calls. He grabbed as many towels as he could find and set up the bath tub just in case. He took all the sheets off the bed and replaced them with towels. He ran into the baby’s room to get some things and when he came back, he helped Jo onto the bed and tugged her shorts off.

Alex looked up at Jo and grinned excitedly. He had delivered a good amount of babies in his career, but never thought he’d be delivering his own, especially at home by himself. He reached out with his free hand and Jo laced their fingers together. She squeezed it tightly as the next contraction came. Jo put her chin to her chest and pushed with everything she had in her. Alex kneeled between her legs, coaching her with each push. 

Jo gripped Alex’s hand, not letting go as she took a breath. “This hurts so bad.”

“I know, but you’re doing so well.” Alex reassured her. “I can see the top of her head.”

“I can’t do this.” Jo shook her head, willing herself not to cry. “You’re a surgeon, just knock me out and cut me open.”

Alex tried not to laugh as he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. “You’re already doing it. Just a few more pushes and she’ll be here.”

“Ugh, shut up.” Jo squeezed her eyes shut as she got another contraction. She dug her nails into the back of Alex’s hand and he instructed her to push again. 

Jo continued pushing until she couldn’t take it anymore. She yelled, cried, and squeezed Alex’s hand so tightly she was sure she could’ve broken it. Just as she was about to give up, Alex let go of her hand and moved them to catch the baby. Jo gave one final push and out slid the tiny baby right into Alex’s arms.

“She’s here!” Alex lifted the baby up and placed her on Jo’s chest. They both started to sob as the baby let out a small cry. Neither one of them could contain the happiness or relief they felt. 

“I love you so much.” Jo smiled through tears and Alex leaned up to kiss her. “Thank you for everything.”

“I love you more. Thank you for the best Valentine’s gift.” 

[zeitgeistghoul]

“First Day”

Axel Cluney x Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of gore and violence 

(hello!! sry if this fic is total garbage and if Axel is OOC, i haven’t tried writing fics like this for a long time. just wanted to show my fav barf boy some love hehe)

Your first day as an honorary X-Force member was far from normal. Wade was beyond thrilled to have a new face on the team, even going as far to ensure you received the best training you could ask for. Your mutant ability made an interesting addition to the team. You had been born with abnormally sharp and long canine teeth, making dentist visits as a kid beyond horrifying Your dentist had put an unsuspecting finger in your mouth and you had nearly bit it clean off. He was fine after a multitude of stitches, but your mother was sure he stopped being a dentist after that. Wade had referred to you as “Toothy” and “Dracula” more times than you could count, Domino finally suggesting “Saber” as your superhero name. It had stuck, finally making you feel apart of the team.

Everyone was extremely kind and helpful, the other members frequently offering to train with you and assist you on missions. The only member you hadn’t worked with yet was “Zeitgeist” or Axel Cluney as you had come to know. He was definitely an intriguing individual, not to mention extremely intimidating. He was tall; his arms and shoulders decorated with...odd tattoos. The first day you met him was when Wade had first recruited you and brought you back to the X-Mansion and introduced you to the rest of the team. All the other X-Force members were making a fuss over you, excited to have a new face around and to act as your mentors. However, Axel was the only one who stood to the side and leaned against the door frame, observing you with a odd look on his face. You wanted to introduce yourself then, but the ‘eat shit and die’ tattoo peeking out from the front of his mesh tank top told you otherwise.

That had been a few months ago and you were officially done with your training today. You and him were acquainted, but never been on a mission together. Wade quickly noticed this and worked to immediately change that.

“(Your name), as an official member of the X-Force, today will be your first official mission.” he said, excitedly tugging your arm to get you to follow him into one of the many rooms in the house. An assortment of papers and folders were strewn across the table. Wade motioned for you to sit down with him as he began to explain your first mission.

“Nothing too crazy, just some asshole who’s disguising his corporate business as an underground human trafficking ring.” Wade said, sliding you a manilla folder. Upon opening the cover, you were met with a photo of the supposed man you were being sent after.

“He looks like he was born to do this.” you commented, noticing just how abnormally creepy this man was. Wade laughed at this and pointed to the address scrawled onto a post-it note on top of the picture.

“That’s your place.” he said. “It’s his warehouse about an two hours outside of the city. He should be there all day.” You nodded in understanding and stood up to go gather what you would need for the mission. Your weapons were kept mostly in the room they had assigned you, so you grabbed the dagger you kept under your bed. It probably wouldn’t be needed with your ability and all, but always a nice plan B. You went back downstairs and stopped halfway down when you saw who was standing with Wade. Axel was suited up for a mission, his bright green vomit-guard mask held in one hand. You hesitantly climbed down the rest of the stairs, already feeling apprehensive.

“As fuckin’ dandy as it would be to send you on this mission by yourself, I thought otherwise.” Wade said. “Barf boy here will be your babysitter-I mean partner.” Wade pushed the both of you towards the door to where your jet would be waiting. “Have fun, you crazy kids!” he called after the two of you. “And don’t even think about getting fresh with my student, ya fuckin’ clown!” The door slammed behind you guys. You awkwardly glanced at Axel, feeling embarrassment already beginning to bubble to the surface. He practically towered over you, his green eyes piercing into your own.

“Let’s go, then.” he said, making his way towards the jet. You stammered out in agreement, quickly following behind. You took a seat across from him and the jet’s door closed automatically as you sat down. It rumbled and shook as it shot into take-off, causing you to jerk backward as it did. Axel began to adjust his suit and pulled his mask over his mouth and eyes. You occasionally stole glances at him and watched his movements curiously. You felt awkward and wanted to discuss the mission, but you were afraid of being an annoying rookie who asked too many questions. He peered at you over his mask.

“Excited?” he called to you over the whir of the jet engine. You flashed him a small smile, your pointy teeth poking out as you did. He jokingly grinned back, his mask lifting with the movement of his smile. The two of you sat in silence until Axel stood up, the ramp of the jet lowering again, signalling it was time to go. Axel tossed you a parachute backpack and you attached it to yourself, adrenaline beginning to course through your veins as you approached the ramp.

“See you at the bottom!” Axel shouted, adjusting his parachute one last time and jumping off the ramp. You had made this jump numerous times on other missions, but you had never quite gotten used to it. You pulled goggles over your eyes and blinked furiously as if to snap yourself out of your fear. Your heart was practically forcing itself out of your chest as you took a deep breath and dove off the ramp. Wind whipped through your hair as you hurtled towards the open field coming into view below you. Axel was further down from you, simply a green spec from where you were in comparison. You saw his parachute burst from the pack attached to him and he began to float towards the field. You soon did the same thing, however not having much luck. The force of deploying your parachute jerked you to the right, sending you floating straight towards the woods near the field. You braced yourself for what was to come, half expecting you collide head first with it. To your dismay and embarrassment, your parachute became entangled with tree branches, leaving you dangling there like an idiot. Bright green leaves floated down from the impact you made, one sticking to your hair. You wracked your brain from how to get yourself out of this situation. Your mind instantly went to the dagger you brought, but it was in your belt, which was unreachable to how you were positioned. You also tried to unclip the pack from your chest, but it was ironically jammed.

“Axel..?” you pathetically called out, turning your head to see him walking towards you with his parachute trailing behind him. He unclipped it from himself, the parachute crumpling to the ground.

“How’s the weather up there?” he mocked, putting a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up at you. You scowled at his comment, desperately trying to reach for your dagger again.

“Don’t just stand there!” you yelled, squirming around. “My dagger is in my belt pocket.” Axel chuckled. You were beyond embarrassed. This was your first mission with Axel and you had already made a huge scene. The tree wasn’t tall enough for him to have to climb up that far up and cut you down, so he was able to reach inside your belt pocket and grab your dagger. Luckily, he was tall enough to do so. He struggled to cut the rope that held you captive, the dagger barely making a dent. What kind of parachute was this damn durable? It seemed unrealistic. It also didn’t help that you didn’t sharpen your dagger enough this morning.

“Hold on,” Axel said, slipping the dagger back into your belt and stepping back. “Don’t move.” He moved behind you and the tree shake, then you heard him cough. You immediately realized what he was about to do.

“Wait, what the fu-”, You barely got out the rest of your sentence before you crashed to the ground. You turned around to see the ropes and part of the tree’s branches were eroded away. Axel approached you, turning on his head to spit on the ground.

“You absolute, fucking asshole!” you shouted, checking your body for burns. “You could have killed me!” Axel grinned and held out a hand to help you up.

“I know what I’m doing,” he responded. “I just spit on it a little.” You begrudgingly took his hand and dusted yourself off. The noise the two of you had made had caught some attention, four men were sprinting towards you, most likely henchmen. The warehouse was at least a mile away from where you guys had landed, meaning they had seen you come in. This mission was already a disaster.

“We got company.” Axel yelled, immediately running towards the group of men approaching the two of you. He projectile vomited on the first guy that got too close and the man screeched in agony, stumbling backwards and colliding with the others. You kicked into fighting mode and launched yourself at a guy who now had Axel in a headlock. You sunk your fangs into his neck, ripping out his jugular and sending a geyser of blood shooting into the air. You and Axel picked off the men fairly quickly, your fighting styles syncing up faster than you anticipated. It wasn’t long before you were surrounding by the corpses of the henchmen, the two of you spattered with blood. Your mouth had a dribble of blood dripping from it, which you promptly wiped away. The two of you began making your way towards the warehouse, keeping your eyes peeled for any more surprise visitors. The warehouse was huge, guards placed at every entrance. You and Axel crept along the border, keeping low and close to the woods. You spotted an entrance towards the back that could be a way in and nudged Axel to show him.

“That’ll draw too much attention,” he said. “We should try to get to the roof.” He pointed to a ladder that was close to the entrance your pointed out earlier. “There.” he whispered. He sprinted towards the ladder, climbing up it quickly and throwing himself onto the roof as quietly as he could. He laid low and waved frantically for you to follow. You made a mad dash for the ladder but a guard spotted you and tried to cut you off. You bowled him over, not wasting any time to bite down on his cheek. You forced yourself to get up and scrambled up the ladder. Breathing heavily, you watched Axel pull open a hatch door towards the center of the roof. You crawled over to him and peered down the hatch. It led straight into the warehouse and gave you  a clear shot into saving the women most likely being held captive there. You watched a man in a suit inspect a frail, underfed woman. She was being forced to stand up by a guard pointing a gun to her back. Other women cowered in fear as they watched the man inspect all of them. You assumed the man in the suit was your guy. You needed to take him and the rest of his men out, then get the women to safety. You couldn’t help but notice just how many henchmen this guy had, they were literally everywhere. It was going to be tough, especially it just being the two of you. You needed to be strategic. Axel must have seen the worried look on your face because surprisingly, he placed his hand over yours.

“Everything ok?” he questioned, looking concerned. He quickly retracted his hand looking sheepish, as if he had done that without meaning to. You nodded.

“There’s a lot of enemies.” you observed. “I’m just anxious that’s all.” Axel cracked his knuckles.

“We’ll be just fine.” he responded. “Just follow my lead and try to think of it as another training session.” You couldn’t help but smile. Your anxiety began to loosen its grip on you, giving you the confidence you needed to focus.

“Let’s fucking go.” you said. You jumped down into the warehouse, the man in the suit yelling out in surprise and the captured women screamed. You tackled him to the ground, your jaw snapping towards his face as he tried to push your face away. Bullets began to rain down as the henchmen tried to take you out, forcing you to duck for safety. Axel followed just after you did, spilling vomit from his mouth as he landed directly onto a guard running below him. He dove for safety as well, the crates placed sporadically around the warehouse providing minimal cover. The women were being forced outside by the man in the suit as he frantically looked over his shoulder. Axel began throwing punches and unleashing streams of vomit onto enemy after enemy. You quickly joined his side and you two began taking out enemies twice as fast. He would spew acid onto the floor, forcing henchmen to slip and fall. They would either get horribly burned from the vomit or stunned enough to give you time to land a swift bite to the neck. The two of you moved unpredictably fast, the bullets being shot at you almost unnoticeable. The henchmen were taken out in minutes, leaving only the man in the suit trying to force the women he had been keeping hostage into a large truck outside. Axel dashed ahead of you, grabbing the man from the front seat and throwing him to the ground. He cowered in fear, holding his shaking hands over his face. Axel stepped back to let you do the honors.

“Please,” he begged. “I have a family.” You approached him slowly, rage building up inside of you. “Plea-,” the man wasn’t able to get another word out because you had already wrapped your jaw around his neck.

“Rot in hell.” you said, spitting his own blood back at him as he sputtered and clasped his hands over the open wound on his neck.

The ride home had a different feel to it than when the mission had first started, for obvious reasons of course. You were mentally and physically exhausted. You and Axel sat next to each other this time, you being so tired, you hardly noticed that your knee was touching his. He became tense when you rested your head against his, but eventually relaxed. The two of you sat like that until you arrived back at the mansion. The women rescued from the warehouse were brought to the local police station, successfully marking the end of the mission. Wade threw open the door and pulled you and Axel into a group hug, chattering excitedly about how proud of you he was. The rest of X-Force congratulated you and asked you two questions about the mission. You later excused yourself to the bathroom to clean up. You stared at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was someone you didn’t recognize.You were an X-Force member now. You were supposed to kill, but it never got any easier. You turned on the sink faucet and splashed water onto your face, the water tinged pink as the blood swirled down the drain. You dried off and opened the door to rejoin the rest of the team. You nearly jumped when you saw Axel waiting for you outside the door.

“Hey.” he said, giving you a small smile. “How are you?” You ran your hand through your hair, feeling some dried blood near the ends. You needed a shower. You suddenly were very aware of your physical appearance.

“I’m alright,” you said, giving him a shrug. “Just not entirely used to the gore..and the vomit.” You instantly regretted that last part. Axel chuckled.

“Trust me, it takes some getting used to.” he said. “But you’re tough.” You smiled, suddenly a swelling feeling rising from your chest. Axel was standing closer than usual to you. You both stood in silence for a moment before you broke it.

“Thanks for being my babysitter today,” you said. “You’re quite the partner.” Axel laughed.

“Any time, I’m open to doing it again.” he said. You walked past him before he called after you. “(Your name),” You turned to look back at him. “We should grab a drink sometime.”

“This weekend,” you said. “You can pick me up.” Axel did his best to hide his smile as he watched you go join the others.

“You got it.”

[the-pontiac-bandit]

Teacher/single parent au or meeting in the E.R au for peraltiago obvs

Thanks for asking, anon!! I love these!! since we’re all in need of some peraltiago fluff this week, here ya go! 

15. Meeting in the ER AU

Dr. Amy Santiago (she’s only been able to officially use that title for six months and she’s damn proud of it) is running down the hallway, her dark ponytail swinging back and forth as her brand new white coat fans out behind her like a cape. She always thought being an ER doctor would be a bit like being a superhero, and she’s not wrong, she decides, thinking about the way she must look running through the hallway of Brooklyn Methodist Hospital – a scrubs-wearing, white-coat-caped superhero.

She’s shaken out of her reverie when she runs headlong into the glass door separating her from the ER, dropping the suture kits she had gone to fetch and losing her brand-new stethoscope. What can she say? She’s still a resident.

Furtively looking around to make sure no one noticed, Amy bends down to pick up her suture kits, dropped as her forehead hit a locked glass door at full speed. She catches a few of the older nurses tittering from the nurse’s station on the other side of the door, but she doesn’t take it personally – she remembers three days ago when those same nurses brought her coffee and a muffin during hour 13 of a particularly grueling shift.

Amy takes a deep breath, feeling her hair to make sure her ponytail is still in place and sighs, deciding it doesn’t matter anyway – she’s exhausted and she’s worked fifty hours this week and it’s only Wednesday, so this is as good as it’s gonna get. Instead, she straightens her shoulders and steels herself before taking a step back, tapping her ID against the sensor, and walking into what her new friend Rosa, a fellow emergency medicine resident, calls the “chaos-ridden-pit-of-hellfire”.

A wall of sound hits her instantly – screaming, crying, laughing, small talk, of all things, and the incessant beeping that has come to haunt her dreams on the rare occasions she actually sleeps. Despite her difficulty with hospital doors, Dr. Santiago navigates the ER like a pro, zeroing in on the patient she’s supposed to treat in an instant.

He’s probably about her age – in his mid-twenties – with disheveled hair and a sweaty red face. Red dirt covers his face and saturates his NYPD t-shirt and cargo shorts. She can see from here that gravel is stuck in his bloody knees, and that the long gash on his elbow, only partially covered by a makeshift bandage made out of someone’s tie, and the shorter cut on his right cheek are why she was told to get suture kits. His friend, a smaller man in his early thirties, looks distraught, with tear tracks staining his face. The patient, though, is laughing with the largest smile Amy’s ever seen and gently patting his friend’s back with his good arm.

She stops at the nurses’ station to grab his file before she walks over. The nurse on intake had already taken his basic medical history, which let her know that the man with a captivating smile and – unbelievably – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sneakers is named Jacob Peralta, age 29.

She keeps reading intake notes as she walks towards the bed, expertly navigating the deluge of people rushing to various patients despite the fact that she’s nose-deep in a chart. Finally, all those years of reading while brushing her teeth and walking the hallways at school are coming in handy.

“Mr. Peralta? Hi, I’m Dr. Amy Santiago. I’m going to be taking care of you this afternoon. Would you mind telling me more about what happened? It says here you fell off a bike?” She leaves the sentence open-ended, hoping he’ll fill in more details.

“Yep! A bike! Because I’m a BMX rider – a professional, if you will,” Jacob replies, with a pointed glance at his friend.

His friend, however, is too busy looking at the needles in Amy’s hands to notice his friend. “Actually, it was roller skates. Is that medically significant? I just want to make sure Jakey’s okay. It’s our day off, and we were roller skating. I told him he needed knee pads, but he didn’t believe me because ‘John McClane wouldn’t wear knee pads’. See,” he turns back to Jacob, “this is why roller skaters get such a bad rep!”

“Yep,” Jake replies to his friend cheerfully. “That’s why everyone hates roller skaters.”

Then, he fixes his blinding grin on his doctor, whom, he notes, is quite cute, despite her disheveled hair and the mysterious stain on the bottom of her scrub top she apparently hasn’t noticed yet. There’s something about her eyes, sparkling and interested, contradicting the bags hanging under them, that hold him mesmerized.

“I’m Jake, and this is Charles. We’re two hot-shot detectives in Brooklyn’s best precinct.”

At Amy’s stern look (which maybe turns him on more than he’d like to admit), he adds, “…and there may have been roller skates involved in, well, this.” He gestures towards his various leg wounds, grimacing when he feels a twinge – he’d used his bad arm.

Amy can’t help but smile. Mr. Peralta – Jake – is absolutely ridiculous, but so far, he’s by far her favorite patient of the shift. Not that that’s any kind of real accomplishment – her previous patients included a projectile vomiter and an old man convinced he was in the middle of a jungle in Vietnam. Sane and not spewing half-digested food is a major step up. That’s it – nothing to do with the fact that his over-the-top flirting is almost as endearing as his smile.

“Well, Jake, since you just reopened that gash on your arm, we’re going to get started on that first before you bleed all over my bed.”

“Ooooh,” he says, with an eyebrow wiggle and a wink. “Am I in your bed? Dirty, Dr. Santiago! I thought we were keeping this professional! If we’re taking this to the bedroom, I should definitely get to call you Amy, though.”

She doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, she grabs his arm, unties the tie holding the gash shut, and goes for the antibacterial wipes. Charles, at the sight of the reopened wound, covers his mouth and heads for the waiting room, telling them hastily that he’ll go watch some Top Chef while they deal with “that monstrosity”.

He winces as she starts to dab at the cut. “Sorry, this might hurt a bit. I’ll put on some anesthetic before I stitch you up, though.”

“Oh, no big deal. I’m a detective with the NYPD. I get hurt all the time. I live for pain.” His words sound proud, but he’s clenching his teeth like he’s holding in a scream, and she can see his other fist balled around the sheets, his knuckles white, as she starts to pick gravel out of the wound.

They’ve been taught to keep patients talking – they’ve been told it distracts them from the pain. That’s definitely why Amy asks her next question. There’s no way she’s just curious about this guy. “So, then, why’d you decide to be a detective, if you get hurt so much? At least I don’t come home with any stitches at the end of the day.”

“I don’t know, Dr. Santiago. Run into that door any harder—” he nods towards the hallway she came from, “—and I’d be the one giving you stitches. Blood gushing out of your face and everything – suuper graphic. I’d probably have to write up a police report for that kind of accident.”

Amy rolls her eyes dramatically, never once wavering in her cleaning of the wound, but Jake can see the blush tinting her cheeks and the tips of her ears at the realization that he saw her run headlong into a very visible door. It’s more than a little adorable.

“Speaking of horrifically maimed, irreparable faces, then, we should probably page a plastic surgeon to deal with yours so you don’t end up with a scar,” Amy informs him, trying to get this conversation on track. She’s not supposed to find patients cute. She’s definitely not supposed to be flirting with them. Even though she maybe is. Just a little bit.

“No! Don’t do that! I need the scar – to look badass for the ladiesssss.” Jake is wiggling his eyebrows at her, contorting his face into the most ridiculous expression she’s ever seen, somehow keeping his left cheek carefully still to protect the cut while the rest of his face moves wildly. “Come on, Amy – I mean, Dr. Santiago – you know I’m at least 3,000% hotter with this scar.”

“Trust me – I’m a first year emergency medicine resident. You don’t want me anywhere near your face. And I’ll be making no comments on how attractive you are.”

“Hah! You said I’m attractive! You loooooove me!”

Amy wants to be annoyed by Jake Peralta. She really, truly does. But she can’t seem to stop talking to him. He explains why he wanted to be a detective – a fifteen minute speech involving a do-gooder attitude, the uniform, and a lot of Die Hard references. Then, they start making bets – how long will it take for her to stitch up his arm, or how many rocks will she find in his right knee. She wins three of four, much to her delight.

Her mini-victory dance in her seat is objectively adorable, Jake decides. Anyone would think so.

An hour later, she’s still by his bedside, cleaning increasingly smaller cuts and scrapes. By the time she gets to the brush burns on his palms, even she knows she’s stalling. She keeps cleaning them, though. His hands are surprisingly warm and soft, and a small part in the back of her brain wants to keep holding that hand forever, or for the rest of the afternoon, at least.

She just isn’t ready for this conversation to end. Only because the other patients are so awful today, she tells herself. Nothing to do with Jake Peralta.

Finally, though, there’s nothing left to do. So she sighs, using her heels to roll back her chair as she looks up at the man who’s now her favorite patient so far as a doctor.

“So, you’re all set. You should probably go find Charles – make sure he didn’t die while you were unable to supervise.” Jake had told her about Charles’ various mishaps somewhere around minute 43, and he made his friend sound like such a klutz Amy briefly considered sending a med student after him, just to make sure he didn’t kill himself on a scalpel somewhere.

Jake shrugs. “I’m sure he’s fine, since he hasn’t already been rushed to the emergency room. Food Network can keep him occupied for hours.”

“Well, it can go keep him occupied at home – I need my bed back.”

“Kicking me out already, Dr. Santiago? Without even a signature for my cast? I’m hurt, nay, crushed by this blatant dismissal.” He’s clearly hamming it up for her benefit, but she catches a moment of earnestness behind those adorable brown eyes.

“Those are bandages. We went over this – you’re supposed to change them when you wake up in the morning, Jake.”

“Aw, come on, Am—Dr. Santiago! This injury will be, like, 200 times cooler if a cute doctor signed my bandage!”

From any other patient, this comment would have made Amy grind her teeth and walk away. Rosa had to physically restrain her from punching a patient who called her, “Sweetheart,” last week. And yet, somehow, this is different. So she pulls the Sharpie out of her coat pocket and uncaps it.

Amy Santiago, she writes slowly, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the new stitches while she signs her name in her perfect script. He starts to comment on how slow her signature is, and she can hear him counting the seconds, but she’s focused on something else.

A pause, as she chews her lip, debating.

Then, below her name, she adds her number. Jake waits patiently for her to finish before fist-pumping and whooping, imitating her victory dance from their third bet.

“Okay, dork, but you’re still gonna have to change that in 12 hours.”

“Don’t worry – I’ll have used this loooooong before then.”

[gguktastic]

Scarred.

Requested by @fandomtrash-20. Also, my first HP fic! Warnings- Mentions of self harm. // "Ms. [Y/L/N], I expect to see you in my office right now, as soon as you keep your things in your dormitory. Am I clear?" Says the Devil herself, giving me an evil stare as I spin on my heels to stare right back at her, in a mix of confusion, fear and anger. "I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge, but I'm sure I haven't done anything to offend or aggravate you today at all," I say. "Meet me in my office, and I'll explain," she says, before giving me a fake, sickly sweet smile that made my insides curdle, and then walking out of the classroom, right past my shoulder. I huffed in annoyance as I walked out myself, calling Dolores 'Toad Devil' Umbridge a string of unflattering names. Walking into the Slytherin common room, I immediately seemed to relax. The deep green walls had a calming effect on me, as I stood on and relished the comfort of the silver fur rug. I slowly slouched up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, heavily dropping my books onto my bed. Deciding not to get into any more trouble, I immediately banished all thoughts of snuggling up on my comfortable bed, and got a move on to Umbridge's office. However, I suppose an introduction is due. My name is [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. I am, currently, studying at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Being sorted into Slytherin House, I wonder if it was a mistake, seeing as I, even if I do say so myself, am a very smart and clever person. I also didn't fit into the 'mean' and 'cold' stereotype of most Slytherins, being one of the examples of how all Slytherins aren't cruel and evil. Let's go back to the present shall we? I gave a massive sigh as I stood outside of Professor Umbridge's office, finally gathering the courage to knock. I heard a faint 'Come on in' through the thick doors. I opened it halfway and question entered in. The interior was, for my tastes, very overdone. It was completely pink, for one thing, which hurt my eyes. There were paintings of cats literally everywhere, Umbridge petting a Siamese kitten with a pink bow around its neck herself, one that she has never had before today, It was probably a gift to her from Pansy Parker, that absolutely annoying bugger, who sucked up to every teacher there was in our school. Dolores is probably the only one who has fallen for it yet. Well, except for Professor Lockhart, of course. That man succumbed to flatter faster than you could say 'self-absorbed'. "Have a seat, love," Umbridge said, again, giving me that sickly sweet, fake smile. I almost gagged, but grudgingly returned a small smile and a nod. I took a seat on the chair on the opposite side of her pink desk. Blegh, this whole room makes me want to projectile vomit on her face. "Good afternoon, Professor," I said. She slid a piece of parchment paper towards me. "Ms. [Y/L/N], this is a First Year student's homework. She goes by the name of Elizabeth [Y/L/N], who, as I've been made to believe, is your sister. Am I right?" I nod. "Yes, Professor, Elizabeth is my sister. Has she not been up to the mark in class?" I ask, worried. "Yes, in fact. She is the worst student in my class, and that's a surprise seeing as she's your sister, an exceptional student. However, I was very impressed with Elizabeth when I corrected her work and saw that all of her answers were correct. However, I noticed that the handwriting was your's: I even double checked it with her's and your's previous assignments. How do you explain this?" I gulped. "I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge, but she had rigorous Quidditch training the day I did her homework, and-" Umbridge, interrupting me, slid another piece of parchment paper, this time a blank one, a quill and an ink-pot. "It's fine, darling, it honestly is. But I want you to remember this lesson, so, right now, you have to write, 'I must not help others cheat' one thousand times. Every time you even mumble that your hands hurt or any syllable of pain because of the rigorous writing, you'll have to write the same sentence another thousand times. Do you agree?" She said, but I couldn't help but be a bit scared, even though this was a simple punishment. I shrugged and took the quill out of the ink-pot. Putting the sharp point to the yellow-ish parchment, I began to scratch the words onto it in my neat handwriting. I momentarily glanced up, not stopping to write, to see a smug smile on Umbridge's toad-like face. In that moment, I sincerely wanted to stab the quill into her eye and wipe the smug smile off of her face. That's when, seven sentences in, my left hand started to itch. However, I was too scared to stop under Umbridge's watchful glare. Ten sentences more. Nine hundred to go. By this point, I was honestly worried, hoping that I hadn't been bit by a Doxy in the quidditch field - I loved Hagrid, but he needs to find a way to get rid of those pests. Madame Pomfrey would probably run out of antidote for Doxy bites soon, seeing the number of students that had gotten bitten in the past month. By the time I was done with fifty sentences, my hand was starting to burn. However, since I still had the glove on my left hand on, I couldn't stop to take it off and check what had happened. // My eyes are burning with tears. My whole arm really hurts, and I want to flee the room. Her sadistic eyes burn into my head as she intently watches me write. "Professor Umbridge?" I said weakly, choking out the words, never stopping scratching the words onto the parchment. "Yes?" She says, petting her cat. "May I please leave? I'm finished with my thousand sentences." "May I see it?" "Sure," I slide the paper over to her side of the table, putting my right hand into its glove and inconspicuously blinking the tears away. She hums on seeing the three sheets of parchment I had used, nodding her head. "Very well, you may leave." A disappointed look adorned her horribly ugly face, and I was proud to be the reason behind it. I greeted her a good evening as I briskly walked out of the room, letting my tears flow free as soon as the door shut behind me. I run into an empty classroom. I storm inside, shutting the door without me, not bothering to lock it. I take a seat on the first bench, and proceed to remove my gloves incredibly slowly. What I saw made me scream out in terror. The inside of my glove was soaked in my scarlet blood, droplets of the red liquid running down my fingers and onto the ground. A thin river of blood ran down my arm and onto the ground as well, and I would have to take my clothes off to check what had happened there. I was curious to see what the bloody hell - excuse the pun - she had done. So, I ran up the stairs, clutching my glove in my right hand, leaving a trail of blood behind me, into the Slytherin common room, and soon made my way to my dormitory. Grabbing an old half-sleeved shirt and some comfortable joggers, I stepped into the girls' bathroom, and proceeded to undress. I shut my eyes and bit sown hard on my lower lip to avoid screaming out loud in agony as my hand roughly brushed over my arm. I decided to be more careful. What I saw on my body in the mirror: that was [Y/N] of the past. Not me. My uninjured hand flew up to my mouth as I whimpered at the sight of my bloodied, scraped and injured left arm. The cuts were in a pattern; however, the smudged blood made it indiscernible. Staring at my wrist, I made out six words, six words I had spent the last hour scratching onto a piece of parchment as well as, unknowingly, on my hand. 'I must not help others cheat.' Over and over again, all over my arm. Looking at the mirror again, I started to quietly sob, reliving those nights I had spent alone, back pressed against the cold wall of the bathroom, drops of scarlet blood leaking down my wrists and onto the silvery floor. Nights I had spent believing I was worthless, nights I had starved myself. Days which I had slept away, nights when I stayed up the whole time. My 'Dark Days'. I collapsed onto the bathroom floor, hand still clasped over my mouth, as I sobbed. As I let all the pent up tears out. This can't be happening. Not again. Not when I finally overcame it. Knees shaking, I got up, looking for bandages. I found some in a stash of equipment I had hidden away for myself, back in those days. Turning on the tap, a stream of ice cold water flowed out, and I put my arm underneath it, sighing at the relief. Stripping off my clothes, again, I decided to take a relaxing shower. Stepping into a cubicle with a towel, I turned on the water, and didn't even stop and consider that it was ice cold. Truth was, I didn't care. I just had to wash away the guilt and the sin I felt I had committed. // Half an hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom, my hand already bandaged up. Thanking the lords that there was no one there, I slipped into my uniform, and made sure that there were no traces of blood anywhere. It was dinner time, they had sounded the bell just a minute ago, and right now, there was a commotion downstairs, in the common room, and I decided to rush down to be a part of it, just so that no one would suspect anything. // Hi everyone! So my amazing friend @fandomtrash-20 sent in a fic request some time ago. This is going to be a two-part fic, and this was the first part of it. Hope you liked it. The next part will be up next week, and I PROMISE I WILL NOT PROCRASTINATE. See you guys soon!

[meanwhileinoz]

People Share The Grossest Things That Have Ever Happened To Them During Sex That’ll Make You Barf

Let’s face it. Everybody love sex. The experience of sex is distinct and truly one of its own kind. Honestly, life would be so boring without it. However, even though sex is as great as it can get, it does “come” with some situations that can sometimes get awkward and very unpleasant. Here are some of the stories from Reddit that people have shared.

CAUTION: THIS IS HIGHLY NSFW.

#1 Reading this by fineblushlane will make you want to think TWICE before randomly giving head to someone you don’t know.

So a few years ago I had brought a new girl back to my apartment after being out drinking all evening. We were too drunk to make the beast with two backs so we passed out until morning.

When we awoke we started kissing and canoodling and I decided to go down on her. This is one of my favorite things and generally will do it as long as it takes to make a girl orgasm…

Anyway, I head down south and pull down her panties to see the hairiest bush i’ve ever seen in my life. Not only is it hairy but the hair is very long and also messy looking, kind of bedraggled. Like a homeless guys beard or an abandoned birds nest.

Slightly less enthused but still determined I plunged in face-first and started getting busy. The taste of this beaver, if possible, was worse than it looked. It was fetid and bitter and to make matters worse I had numerous pubic hairs caught in my throat which were tickling me and making me cough.

I decided to pull back for a second to regain my composure. I thought if I pulled open her lady-bits I might be able to have a better angle of attack on her clit. I opened up her pussy to a terrible sight. There were multiple lumps of what looked like cottage cheese dotted around her pussy lips and clit.Each lump ranged from a few millimeters in width to half a centimeter in size. It looked like some sort of fungus was growing there.

Needless to say I was fucking revolted and started gagging. I knew that despite my love of pussy I could not go down on her again without puking my guts up. I mumbled some excuse about a headache and not feeling good and fled to the bathroom, whereupon I spent ten minutes washing my mouth out and brushing my teeth.

Even now I shudder when I think back upon “cottage cheese pussy girl”.

Edit: A friend just pointed out to me that the girl from my story is now the Lehman Bros of spank bank material. Perhaps if you ever have a boner and want to lose it sharpishly you can think of cottage cheese?

#2 This story by SisterNamedJan took the famous phrase “Giving someone the taste of their own medicine” to a whole new level.

  He pulled it out to come on my face, I was unprepared and snorted his semen up my nose. We started making out and I sneezed his semen onto his own face.

Probably grosser for him than for me, but not by much.

  #3 Aaaaaa667’s girl is definitely a keeper

  I had recently found a new girlfriend. A cute, blonde girl with lots of curves in all the right places. We had been together for a little while (this was back when I was a Jr. in college and she was a freshman) when we went to this huge party. We both ended up getting totally trashed and wound up back at my place. Needless to say I was waaay to drunk to get any bidnass done that night. The next morning we woke up and started to get it on. For some reason, Im always really randy after a night of heavy drinking. Anyway…midway through the sex, we are doing it doggy style with her on all 4 at the edge of the bed and me standing behind her on the floor. I am hammering away like a rabbid jackrabbit when, all of a sudden, i get that sour food, extra saliva feeling in my mouth. I knew what was coming but it was too late. As the puke surged up my esophagus, I clenched my hands over my mouth in a death grip, but to no avail. I spun around and tried to aim for my waste bin….but it was no use. I ended up projectile vomiting in about a 3/4 circle. I managed to go from her right side, across that wall, across the wall behind me (and the bookcase that was there), all over the waste bin, and i over spun and went passed the waste bin and got it on my floor and the bed on her left side. Luckily, only some puke flak got on her back….

She’s a great girl though, that was 3 years ago and we are still together…

  #4 This one by kidmonsters almost made me puke.

  I was in a band in college and we played a show this one weekend. I was pretty smashed after drinking for free all night, and this surprisingly cute chick saunters up and started with the whole, “oh my god, you like write songs and stuff?” Despite the fact that I am usually a bit shy in situations like this, she had her arm around me and is doing all the work. “Fuck it, let’s do this,” I think to myself. While she is mid-sentence, I grabbed her hand and started walking her out the door.

We headed back to her apartment, and things started to heat up. We were on her bed, ripping off eachother’s clothes. Suddenly, in one swift move, she pounced me, knocked me onto my back, jumped on top of me, spun around and started sucking me off, 69 style. I was totally into it, and started reciprocating. Only a few moments pass before I felt a tap on my forehead. My face was fully between her legs, yet there was this tap tap tap on my forehead. Every couple of seconds, tap tap tap. This tapping continued and started to take me out of the moment. I pried my face from between her legs to get a better view of what was going on. To my horror, I witnessed, dangling from her asshole, a fucking tape worm, bouncing like a fettuccine noodle with every excited movement she made. I was totally disgusted, but kind of in shock, and she had no idea what is going on, just gobbling away down there. Before I knew it, I had thrown her off of me and I was stringing together a long series of “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” as I put on my pants and ran out the door.

  So, the boy and I like some backdoor fun from time to time. We talk about it more than we do it because it’s tiresome to get ready and clean up after… usually worth it though ;). One Saturday afternoon, the boy is performing some world class cuminonumbulus when I feel a pressure at my nether orifice. I soon realised he was using some beads on me. We had some filthy and very very satisfying sex, then I went to the bathroom to clean up without removing the beads.

I’m so glad I did that.

I sat on the toilet to get the beads out.

I’m so glad I did that.

Those beads were solidly embedded in a great big turd.

I just stared at it dumbly for a moment before the smell hit me.

  #6 That has got to hurt. _NetWorK_ hope its ok now.

I had this happen to me too, got home from working a night shift 8pm to 8am went at it with the wife then noticed a bit of blood, figured oh she started her period got off went to the washroom to clean up then noticed blood on the bathroom floor figured I must of have not wiped the underside, my stomach churned when I saw that my frenulum (banjo string) was now in two pieces. This is when the pain starts…

Had to call my friend who worked close to my house get him to get out of work 30 minutes early to drive me to the hospital. Here’s the main content of our conversation.

“Hey John, it’s Mike can you drive me to the hospital? I think I broke it.” “Broke what?” “IT man” “Oh shit I’ll be right over”

The trip to the hospital was another story within itself, ended up having a to have it packed with surgical skin graph (they are special bandages that are meant to promote skin repairs) and not use it for 5 days… I waited 3 and now it’s all messed up it can pop out whenever it wants and where it’s suppose to stop it just keeps rolling back… I really should have waited to extra 2 days 🙁

#7 That accelerated quickly. Darzel’s experience is more of a lesson.

Girl beneath me, rolls me over onto my back – in the process we roll off the bed and we land on the floor, me on the bottom and her still straddling me. Her leg went straight through a big glass of water. Blood everywhere. She had lacerated her leg straight to the bone in a clean cut: I could see her muscle. Within ten minutes of our initial playing around there were 6 firemen and 3 policemen in the room (she was mental and shouted down the phone that I had a gun so they would come sooner). I was high and drunk and so her roomie took control. Paralysed by shock and weed, I had to hide while they took her in the ambulance as she was THAT crazy that I was expecting her to call rape.

She required 62 stiches, 40 on the muscle covering her shin.

This is the singular most traumatic experience of my life

  #8 Love is in the air, is it not mads-8?

Sixty-Nine. She came. She farted. My hair blew in it’s fetid breeze.

  #9 When you are really determined, you do what apatton19 did.

A girl I had been dating for awhile climbed on me for 69. As she scooted back, I saw something white, realized too late that it was a clump of toilet paper, and got it in my mouth. Pretty nasty, but I spit it out and kept going.

  #10 Oh my, you don’t see that every day now do you? By amaacct.

I work in an emergency room. One time we had a patient who had a colostomy (for those who don’t know, this is a surgically placed hole in the abdomen where shit comes out of after the colon is rerouted away from the ass)

Anyway, some girl comes in once with an infection in her stoma (abdominal shithole). Turns out it was gonorrhea. Her husband had been cheating on her, picked it up and had been fucking her in her stoma

  #11 Parallel universe version of ‘don’t forget to pull out’ by hong_kong_phooey

  Having sex with my wife, and then noticing that something didn’t feel quite right, she still had a tampon in from 4 days prior…and i had to help pull it out….

  #12 Tellme_areyoufree ‘s poor roommate will never think about this the same way again.

Freshman year of college, I met this guy and brought him back to my dorm (I’m also a guy). He seemed nice and everything, and he was cute, and we started to fuck around. Eventually he decided he wanted to bottom (i.e. get fucked), and so we started having intercourse…

I started to smell the distinct smell of fecal matter very soon. I thought “whatever, I guess you should expect a little smell when having anal sex.” I continued, and the smell continued to get worse.

Eventually, we finish, and I pull out – only to see a stream of shit spew out of his ass. It was everywhere. I mean, fucking everywhere. It was explosive diarrhea-type shit, on my bed, on me, on the wall even.

… and then my roomate walked in.

I found out later that the dude had a severe bowel problem of some kind, and really shouldn’t have bottomed. My ex-roomate is still a friend of mine, and I still have to assure him that that’s not what gay sex generally looks like.

#13 Quite not what Pict was expecting..

Sucking a chicks nipple in the dark. She was loving it. All of a sudden there is liquid.. Lactating.. sick. So keep going, she seems to be loving it.

Lights come on, dun dun dunnn, I had been sucking the pus out of a boil.

  #14 This story by TI-83 doesn’t have a happy ending.

I remember this story happening to an acquaintance a few years ago.. So said acquaintance meets up with a few friends and they roadtrip for a night of drinking and debauchery in Canadia. The group ends up at a strip club and the protagonist of the story ends up picking up one of the strippers by the nights end. For some unknown reason, this guy thought it was a good idea to go down on the stripper before they do the nasty. They all drive home the next day and all is good. The day after driving back, the guy wakes up in the morning and can’t open his eyes and proceeds to freak out. Paramedics are called. Turns out that the stripper he had gone down on had crabs. The crabs had gotten into his eyelashes and surrounding areas. Literally his eyes were crusted shut from the various liquids his body expelled (blood, plasma, etc.) as a result of the crabs feeding off his lifeblood. Horrible stuff.

  #15 Pay heed to what Sobe86 says at the end.

I was going out with a girl, and one night we got drunk and had sex without protection. She wasn’t on the pill, so she had to go to the pharmacy and get a morning-after type thing.

So a few days later, we were fooling around in the dark. I fingered her a bit, went down on her. I noticed it tasted a little weirder than normal, but didn’t say anything. She repaid me in similar fashion. Afterwards I go to the bathroom, and turn the light on. My whole face and arms are covered in blood. I look like a vampire after a feeding frenzy. Initially I thought it was a cut on my face or something, but I couldn’t find anything wrong. Also, the blood was not like any blood I’d seen before, like it was really thick and gooey. So I go back to the bedroom, turn the light on, and her entire lower regions are bathed in this syrupy horrible red gunk. It’s all over the bed sheets, and all down the side of her legs.

She understandably freaks out. We call emergency services etc. At first we thought I cut her down there with my fingernails or something. But it turns out when a girl uses emergency contraception, it can wreak havoc with her menstrual cycle. And I spent 5 minutes lapping up her period blood. We never spoke of it again. Remember kids: if she isnt on the pill, use a fucking condom.

  #16 I-330‘s guy will never keep a pet cat.

Last summer my husband and I were living with roommates who had a cat. We were drinking and started getting hot and heavy, he stripped down and jumped on the bed, said something about it being wet and jumped back up. One of us had left our bedroom door cracked and the cat had gotten stuck in the room, and pooped all over our bed. Worse is that apparently this cat was sick with worms. My poor husband was covered in kitty diarrhea, blood and worms.

#17 What emorrow64 shares is more than just a bad experience.

Goin down on a guy can be like being locked in the trunk of a car with old cheese. WASH YOUR BALLS! And it wouldn’t hurt to trim a lil. The grossest sexual encounter I’ve had was a guy who sweat so profusely it was dripping on me, then he flipped his sweaty ass around into my face to attempt what I can only assume was a 69 position but was more like bein force fed a butt sandwich and I could see the sweat glistening on his ass/ball hair, that, and the cheez smell coming from his balls made my eyes water and I threw him off me and ran to the shower. 30 minutes of soap and hot water and I still didn’t feel clean.

  #18 An all-time classic story by rivalthecreator but just as unpleasant at the same time.

Steve and his girlfriend Samantha went off to college in August. She went to Florida State, he went to Penn. So, she decides to fly to PA to visit him. He was really happy to see her so he decided to give her some oral action.

He had done this numerous times before and he always enjoyed doing it…but for some reason, this time, she smelled really horrible, and she tasted even worse. He didn’t want to offend her though because he hadn’t seen her in months…so he put a Jolly Rancher in his mouth to cover it up, even though it didn’t do much to help.

In the course of eating her out, he accidentally pushed the candy inside of her… and stuck a finger in to grab it out. He took it out, and put it back into his mouth and bit it. Only…it wasn’t the Jolly Rancher.

It was a nodule of gonorrhea.

As in, the blister-like structure that gonorrhea makes filled with diseased pus was the size of a fucking Jolly Rancher and the poor guy BIT it. I guess it was really dark in the room. He freaked out and started vomiting all over the place when it exploded in his mouth…

He demanded to know what was going on, turns out she had cheated on him at a club like, the first week of college, and fucked some random guy and the stupid bitch had no clue what was wrong with her. She noticed a strange smell though.

So now, Steve is freaking out that he now has gonorrhea of the mouth and God knows what else.

#19 The description by Criscoxl is actually gross, but the thing as a whole is very cute!

So this one time I’m having sex with my girlfriend right, and it was all good and sexy so we finish up and everything seems cool.

Then about 9 months later a fucking little human being comes out of her pussy! I mean just like pops out and I saw that shit with my own eyes!

The little fucker is still living with us.

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