#how??? does a first aid kit??? fit in that??? tINY THING-

[takami-takami]

Anew.

includes— hawks x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. loss of wings and regrowth. nightmares. keigo tends to your wounds. blood description.

You lose your wings for the first time. It does not feel like the first time, but Keigo is there to patch your wounds. Keigo is always there to patch your wounds.

Keigo knew a thing or two about sprouting new feathers from the flesh of one's back. The splintering of new appendages, raw and awakened for the first time like freshly-birthed infants from the womb.

He cared for your seraphic wings. Preened them like his own quirk, cleaned them as if they were sewn to his own back.

Taught you how to care for them, too. 

Taught you for the first time the truth, that they grow back. Soothed your worries that they never would.

Taught you how the ache means it's working. Means there's feathers bubbling anew, waiting to burst forth from the flesh. 

Keigo sat with you in the living room at three in the morning. You had screamed yourself awake again that night, the whimpering in your sleep morphed to aching, pained howls. Like night terrors, the sting of it. Night terrors that didn't stop when you awoke.

You knelt on the floor with Keigo at your back on the couch. The room was silent and dim, save for the distant crackling of the fireplace. Your eyes remained locked forward, watching the burning pyre stoke itself to life, swallowing more oxygen to burn. The light of it flickered like fireflies in shades of warm amber and cold red, blinking awake and asleep.

The color red bubbled in tiny dots around the growth site of your new wings. Keigo said nothing as he dabbed cotton rounds designed for skincare against the blood. You both slept at your place last night, so he didn't have access to the usual supplies he tended to patch his own feathers up with. He would make do.

Keigo's wings were in relatively good shape that day; a little stubbier than usual, still recovering from being seared to the base from a fight with Dabi.

The white of the cotton soaked up your red. You didn't wince, but Keigo hummed an appreciative sound for your bravery regardless. 

"How many times have you lost yours," you whispered. 

The question was meek. Tentative. Keigo didn't wince, but you placed an appreciative hand on his knee for his bravery regardless.

"Mm. Lost count a long time ago, dove," he said, and shifted to rummage through your first aid kit for antibiotic ointment. 

At that, you stiffened, causing Keigo to halt in his verbal tracks to clarify.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing— not to me, at least," he continued, squeezing a dollop onto his thumb to apply to your wound. "Kinda reminds me that they can still grow back, in a way. Like I'm challenging the big, bad mother hen that's nature, ya' know?"

You suppressed a snort, barely able to hold back a smile. 

"You would say that," you chided.

"Oh, whatever do you mean?"

You rolled your eyes. "That. Anyone ever tell you that you're more like a puppy than a bird?"

"If you count as anyone, then yes, dove. You're special, though." Keigo pulled back, getting a better look at his handiwork. "Stretch them out for me, 'kay? Need to see how far they're coming along."

With painstaking effort, you complied. 

Judging by the pleased hum, your wings must have been coming along quite nicely— not that you'd know the difference, of course.

You've never healed before.

"Keigo?"

"Mm?"

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

He paused.

You were worth so much more. You were worth so much more than this and it splintered Keigo's heart, made him want to clutch you to his chest. And so he did, kneeling down behind you and wrapping his arms around your center.

You felt his chin move slightly atop your head when he spoke.

"It does. And then it hurts again, but you're stronger." A kiss on your hair. "And then it stops, and then it starts again, and every time it tries to swallow you, but you get bigger and bigger." A kiss to your temple. "Until the hurt can't fit you inside it anymore. And you wonder why you were ever so scared to feel it in the first place."

Your eyes burned more than your back. They burned more than the cinder of your fireplace.

"And I love you," Keigo added. "And you're going to be okay. I swear to God, dove, you're going to be okay."

"You promise," you asked, leaning into the warmth that enveloped your heart.

"I swear on my wings."

[gtgbabie0]

Heyyy it’s me again hehe!

I was thinking clumsy reader that always dropping things, tripping over, spooking herself out etc etc. basically Leon goes into a fit of worry when he hears something drop or when she yelps - but she’s just clumsy. Totally 100% not referring to myself here; just so you know.

- Leon Kennedy x reader

Oh my! He would be so very caring!! 💕

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Leon absolutely loves you, his heart is wholly yours. But goodness did you give him heart attacks sometimes. You were clumsy and yet even that felt like an understatement, your clumsiness was something Leon didn’t think was even possible it was that bad, he often felt like he had to baby-proof the entire house.

It was late afternoon and Leon had gotten back from the agency. You were just cleaning up the small stuff around the kitchen whilst he showered and without even noticing your arm must’ve knocked the dish strainer because the next thing you know the whole thing comes crashing down onto the floor, plates, bowls and cutlery all spread out over the kitchen floor with a very loud crash.

Leon’s heart has never dropped so fast, and he’s hit with a sudden overwhelming feeling of nausea. He was just about to blow dry his hair when he heard the crazily loud commotion and a yelp. He’s quick to drop the hair dryer running down the stairs as fast as he can, missing steps as he does.

“I’m okay- I’m alright,” you tell him as he rushes into the kitchen, stopping as he looks at the mess on the floor. His eyes scan over your body to check for any injuries.

“Baby, what the fuck?” He sighs catching his breath as he guides you carefully from the broken porcelain shards, holding your hand gently.

You smirk at him, noticing that he’s shirtless and the way his shower-damp hair sticks to his forehead and tiny little droplets of water trickle down onto his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me like that- you almost gave me heart failure” he says with no control over the smile that teases his lips when you begin to giggle at him.

He feels older than he is around you, and he swears you will give him grey hairs. But then again he couldn’t complain without you he’d be completely and utterly lost in this crazy world.

You watch as his eyes widen ever so slightly looking down at the small little cut that scratches at your arm, it must’ve happened when you bumped into the dish strainer. You sigh looking down at the blood that trickles from the cut.

“Baby, you’ve got to be more careful,” he tells you with an almost firm tone, but you know it only comes from a place of love, he cares far too much about you. He grabs the first aid kit you keep in one of the cupboards, washing the tiny cut with an alcohol wipe before gently sticking the plaster to your minor injury.

He notices the guilt that seeps into your facial expression, how your eyes seem to drop, “I’m sorry, I just don’t want you getting hurt” he whispers, brushing your hair from your face as he presses a loving kiss to your cheek.

You both look over to the mess that still covers your kitchen floor, “God, I made such a mess” you sigh, resting your head against his chest.

“Yeah, good luck with cleaning it” he teases, laughing at the way your groan against him.

You close your eyes as if that would make the mess magically disappear, and his hand settle against your hips.

“You wouldn’t let me clean this all by myself,” you tell him with confidence in your chest.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He questions tilting your chin with his thumb as he makes you look up at him.

“Because you love me too much” you giggle as he rolls his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face.

“Mhm, come on let’s clean up- and you’re banned from the kitchen for the rest of the night” he says. You smile at him with endearment as you both get to work on cleaning up the of dishes that are spread across the floor.

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[magicalrocketships]

Remember that de-aged Max fic I posted 1200 words of and was DEFINITELY absolutely not writing any more of?

Anyway I absolutely wrote more, but this is set six years earlier and is a little study in contrasts, because this time it's mostly about tiny Daniel. Here you go:

Daniel goes small early in race week in Malaysia.

Max sees the commotion over by the drivers' rooms, and then he sees someone going for one of the Go Small kits that hang under first aid kits and by fire extinguishers the world over. They are simple, mostly fold-small extremely stretchy t-shirts and drawstring stretchy shorts with these weird adjustable shoes that can be fastened to fit to most feet. He assumes it's one of the mechanics or engineers and doesn't think much more about it, and then he overhears someone saying for god's sake keep him out of Max's eye-line, don't want the poor kid yelled at for getting in his way.

Max does not feel like that is very fair. He would not yell at a child. He only gets mad with stupid adults, not little kids. It is not his fault that so many people are stupid.

But then he spots a curly haired baby Daniel clambering up on to the tool table to reach for the chocolate bar that one of the mechanics has sneaked into the garage and Max spotted hidden away earlier, and he shouts, "Daniel, no."

Baby Daniel immediately freezes, hand outstretched, knees perched wobbly on the edge of the workbench. He peers guiltily over his shoulder, but Max is already half way across the garage, looping an arm around Daniel's waist and stopping him from tumbling off.

"I wanted the chocolate," Daniel tells him. He does not flinch away from Max's touch, and consents very easily to Max helping him down from the workbench. He is not in the least bit bothered by being told no. He does not seem afraid at all.

"It is a Snickers bar," Max tells him, "and you are allergic to nuts, little Daniel. Also it is not yours and climbing on things in the garage is dangerous."

Daniel's little bottom lip goes out. "I'm not scared. And I can eat nuts."

"Hmm," Max says. Daniel cannot eat nuts, no matter what face Daniel is trying to pull right now to pretend he can. He might die and that would be very bad, not just for the space-time continuum but for Max in particular, who likes having Daniel as a teammate. He considers. "Are you hungry or are you bored?"

Daniel's face lights up, which is how Max ends up sitting in the hospitality area with Daniel sitting next to him, feet swinging, as Daniel eats a sandwich and talks with his mouth full and tells Max about going karting with his dad. It is very cute because Daniel is very cute, all curly hair and no fear and looking around at everything. He must see all the bewildered faces of everyone walking by and seeing Max hanging out with him, which is not fair because Max likes kids and is good with them. They are mixing Max from the track up with Max in real life. Daniel beams at him with mayonnaise on his chin. Max wipes it off with a napkin.

When Daniel has finished eating his sandwich and has drunk his juice and eaten a blueberry muffin he manages to get literally everywhere, Max takes him back to the garage and they get Daniel settled in the cockpit of his very own Formula 1 car and baby Daniel is incandescent with joy. Then they walk down the paddock, and everyone comes to see Daniel because everyone loves Daniel and tiny, curly haired Daniel is excited and interested and brave. He is not shy at all, not like Max was when he was younger. The only exception is when he sees Lewis with his dog, Roscoe, and then he hides behind Max with his hands on Max's hips and peeks out from underneath Max's arm. Lewis picks Roscoe up and waves his paw in Daniel's direction, and Daniel dives behind Max's back before he sneaks his head out, and gives Roscoe a very little wave back. Then Daniel holds Max's hand for a bit before going back to running around him in circles because he has too much energy for such a little boy. Some of the photographers take pictures of him, and when they get back to the Red Bull garage, Daniel is carefully settled on top of a stack of tyres so that somebody else can take pictures. Daniel demands Max be in one of the pictures with him, and he rests his elbow on Max's head and Max laughs as they take the photo.

It is a very nice day and little Daniel is very cute and he skips around Max asking him questions and peering into things and trying to climb on anything within climbing distance.

He passes out face first on the sofa in the driver's room, and suddenly Max feels the overwhelming compulsion to squeeze his eyes shut, and when he opens them again, it's not a seven year old Daniel staring back at him, but a teenager, with spots and braces. He devours a burger and fries in about four seconds flat that someone brings him from hospitality, and he's just asking if he can go in the car again when Max has to squeeze his eyes shut. When he opens them, it's just normal Daniel, sitting on the sofa in his very stretchy Go Small outfit, and grinning.

"That was so cool," Daniel says, laughing. "Thanks for keeping me company, Maxy-Max. When it's your turn, you'll have to come hang out with me, I'll return the favour. We'll have a whale of a time."

"Yes," Max says. "Okay."

&&&

It is six years later when there's a little knock on Daniel's apartment door.

Daniel, not entirely sure he actually heard anything, and especially because no one called up from the front desk downstairs, opens his door expecting nobody to be there.

Instead, there is a little red-cheeked baby Max, struggling to hold up a pair of too-big shorts and drowning in a t-shirt. His socks are falling off his feet. "I am Max Verstappen," Max tells him, shy and awkward. He has one hand pressed to the back of his neck, scared and unsure.

Daniel's face softens. "Hello, Max," he says. "I know who you are. Why don't you come in, and we'll get you all fixed up."

Max, uncertain and very small, steps inside.

&&&

Again, thank you to Lena @stolemyhheart for making sure it read okay and Em @powerful-owl for letting me have her best de-aged verse ideas and talking about this with me for ages. For a fic I'm absolutely not writing, I sure know a lot about what happens at every stage of it.

Edit: there's more of this verse here.

[lxstbxyscave23]

Yuri Boyka

i decided to write this because i love boyka and it’s hard for me and i know others to find stories about him so here ya go.

yuri boyka x fem!reader

warnings: dominant!boyka x submissive!reader. unprotected sex!! don’t do this folks. fem genitalia, afab!reader virgin!reader, assault, boyka doing what he does..(fighting) somewhat gorey. 18+ only please, minors do not interact. p in v. , fem receiving. passionate but rough sex. cursing. zourab isn’t a huge dick. lazily proof read. maybe more lmk.

summary: boyka unleashes the beast that has been holding back ever since he met you. not wanting to scare you off at how manly and scary he can really be. fighting for you in a way no one has ever..one thing leads to another and he’s between your legs..

you met boyka almost four months ago and he’s the sweetest most generous guy you’ve ever met - or so you thought.

he would do anything for you, going downtown to shop with you. buying you pretty much whatever you’d like. as long as he had the money. which he did, to your knowledge you didn’t know how he made his money.

he leaves for hours before coming to your house to spend some alone time with you.

he’s always sweaty when he comes back maybe a little cut on his eyebrow or a bruise on his cheek but nothing too serious. he’d knock on your door as you looked out the window getting so excited that your boyfriend was here. you quickly unlocked both locks and pulled the door open with the most cutest grin on your face.

boyka pulling you in his arms as he picks you up and shuts the door with his foot, swinging you around with a chuckle. hugging you so unbearably tight, like a big bear hug. “i missed you..” you’d whisper in his ear which always pulled a groan from him.

you haven’t gone very far with your boyfriend, too afraid he won’t like what your body has to offer. which is complete nonsense since your body is a goddess. he would bow down to his knees and worship your body before he ever says one hurtful thing to your gorgeous self.

once you pull back to analyze his face your smile drops. he starts to worry as his eyebrows pinch together in concern. have you finally realized who he was and what he does? how he harms people and sometimes even kills them for a living? he believes it’s a gift from God but still he doesn’t want to lose you already. he puts you down as your hand slowly reaches up to his cheekbone. making sure to not touch the cut that has started to bruise around it. his eyes close at the touch of your hand.

“what happened?” your voice laced with worry as it shakes. “nothing angel” he lied and for your naive little brain he thought you would buy it as you usually do. but this time you cross your arms under your chest. unknowingly pushing your breasts up in your low cut dress. he looks down at you with a soft gaze. “don’t lie to me!”

you pinch your eyebrows together in anger. he lets out a little chuckle before quickly clearing his throat to become more serious. you just looked so adorable getting angry at him. “it’s nothing, i just got into a little fight out on the streets. nothing to worry about my love”

you didn’t buy it one bit as you sighed and grabbed his big hands in your small one. you guided him to your bathroom. there was a little first aid kit under the sink.

you sat him down on the closed lidded toilet and went ahead pulling out a cotton pad, alcohol and a tiny bandaid. “i’m fine my dear i promise” she ignored his protest to her patching him up as she poured some alcohol on the pad and pressing it to his cut. not a single wince left his lips, he didn’t bat an eye nor did he close them. he was unfazed by the little cut which made your heart race at how strong he was. even though it was a baby cut compared to him.

he was wearing some thick denim jeans with a tight black tee and dark grey leather jacket. everything fit him so well, he pulled you into his lap. your legs draped over his thighs as he held you in his arms.

“i said im fine, don’t worry about me.” you rolled your eyes as you pulled his face towards yours. thinking you were gonna kiss him his eyes close and he leans in only for you to place the bandaid on his cut harshly and get up putting things away. he doesn’t wanna lose his shit because he knows you’re just worried about him but you ignoring his words and affection is starting to get him aggravated. he wants to hold you and smother you in kisses but you’re already walking out the bathroom shutting the light off with him still in there contemplating his thoughts. he stands up and storms out to find you. you were already getting dressed in your bedroom.

putting on a form fitting glittery black dress, hugging your curves. it wasn’t like a rhinestoned dress, more like little sparkles littered all over. it didn’t have straps either and stopped mid thigh. you bend down to find heels and a shawl, if he wasn’t gonna let you worry about his safety then he’s not gonna be able to worry about yours.

you sat down on your bed sliding on your heels and grabbing a hand bag. it was getting dark outside so your dress would look amazing in certain lighting, accentuating your deep curves and perky breasts. he stomped his way into the room like a toddler at least you thought.

“where do you think you’re going?” his accent thick, causing chills to shoot up your back and tingle through your nipples.

“out.” was all you said as you pulled out your cell and called up a few friends of yours.

“hey girlie! i’m going out with a couple girls would you like to join?” your voice changing as you perk up from her answer. “okay we haven’t decided where we wanna go so let’s meet up at lilys place?” your smile widening as you hung up after saying bye.

“i’m coming with you.” he says sitting down on the bed watching your body as you checked yourself out in the mirror, turning around to look at him with a pout.

“it’s a girls night out, you can go out with your friends.” you said grabbing your keys and walking out the room, him hot on your heels. truth be told, he didn’t have many friends. other than his manager who set up his fights and whatnot but he didn’t really like him.

he grabbed you by the back of your neck and turned you around to face him just as you reached the door. “i don’t want you to go out without me. there are fucking perverts out there.” his voice was soft, calm. “i can handle myself and i’ll be out with my girls. i’m okay i promise”

he kissed your lips preciously before letting you go. ‘i’ll be following close behind, believe me darling i know you’ll be okay.’ he thought to himself as he smiled and let you walk out the door.

he waited at least five minutes before jumping up from the couch and slammed the door to go and find you.

you were already at lilys, she was more into brutal things than you were so when everyone got there she made sure to let you all know that she wanted to go and see a fight. you groaned as you slumped in the chair you were sitting in. “c’mon guyss i really wanna go see one with you guys!” you all live in russia but you aren’t russian, you may speak of the language a little enough to get you in or out of trouble. so wherever the fight took place wasn’t too far.

you all contemplated her plead before finally agreeing to go. she jumped up and grabbed her purse. there were five of you, lily, ashley, spencer, and kaitlyn. “let’s take a shot first!” lily insisted as she grabbed five shot glasses and poured some hard vodka in them. “tonight is gonna be fun” you all giggled as you cheered and tossed your shots back. the alcohol sliding down your throat with a pleasant burn.

“okay now let’s go!” you all took spencer’s car since it was the biggest and fit all five of you.

—

boyka got a call from his manager and he answered it with a groan. “boyka! my man, we have another fight!” boyka pulled the phone away from his ear in annoyance before returning it. “not now kiril i’m busy.”

“you might wanna take this offer boyka! it can lead you to the big games, fighting with heavyweight pro champions!” kiril insisted in this fight and when he felt boyka was gonna say no he blurted out- “300,000 dollars boyka! that’s a lot of money.” boykas eyes damn near popped out their sockets at the amount of money.

“fuck! fine where and what time?” he stepped his foot on the gas when the light turned green. “right fucking now boyka! in this small town called drovny, the guy wants you to fight his best champion along with three other fighters.”

“send me the place and i’ll be there”

now boyka didn’t forget about you in fact you’re the reason he’s gonna do this fight, he wants to spoil you with whatever you want. he wants to be able to come over and see you in whatever he bought for you.

he’ll just have to look for you after all of this.

he made it looking around to spectate the place before grabbing his duffle bag and walking up to his manager. “boyka! you made it” he shook his hand as they walked up to the entrance. two security guards stepped in their way of the door. “names?” he asked trying to assert dominance which only made him look like a fool.

“this is my fighter yuri boyka, here to fight for zourab!” boyka was starting to get irritated, his manager is always hyper and excited. “come on in” they both stepped out the way letting boyka and kiril in. kiril immediately guiding boyka to zourabs spot up top as he watched all the fights and ladies walking around serving drinks.

he wandered up the stairs until they reached the room that overlooked the whole club. boyka stood there while kiril walked up to zourab. “zourab! nice to meet you this is my fighter yuri boyka!” zourab turned his head eyeing boyka up and down. he smiled before standing up to greet them, shaking their hands as he told boyka to come and sit. boyka following pursuit and sitting with his duffle bag in hand watching over as a guy round houses another knocking him to the floor. blood oozing out his mouth with a broken jaw. he looked up at zourab to see when he’ll be fighting.

zourab stood beside his sofa chair and put a hand on his shoulder. smiling as he looked out the window admiring his own fighting industry. “this boyka, this is where you can begin a new life. where you can get all the hot woman and go to the pros.” boyka just stared out with a dark gaze. “four fights for 300,000 dollars while going to the pros is all you could have if you say yes..” everyone stared at boyka. waiting for his answer. he just turned to look at zourab and nodded his head. “not a man of many words i see” kiril laughed trying to excuse boykas behavior and rude manners.

“i am” is all boyka said before standing up and staring at zourab and waited for him to go to the locker rooms.

—

you and your girls walked in freely as the guard winked at you. you ignored him and walked into the club looking around at all the woman in pretty dresses and men trying to holler at them. you and your gals walked over to a table and sat down on tall stools. a man came over to your friend spencer along with his four other guys. “hey pretty ladies, mind if we buy you all drinks?” not one of you rejected just wanting free drinks then dissing them.

a man stood next to you trying to make conversation, you smiled up at him to be polite though you weren’t interested in him. to busy thinking about your beloved boyfriend who is most likely at home watching a movie waiting for you to come home. but little did you know he was in the locker rooms waiting for his name to be called. “hey darlin’ what’s a girl like you doing at a place like this?” he licked his lips analyzing yours and leaning off of the table to peak down your dress.

you caught him and felt highly uncomfortable, you looked down at your toes that were painted white, peaking out of your black heels. “uhm my friend over here wanted to see what this place was all about” you said looking back up at him.

he thought you were the most adorable and sexiest woman he’s ever seen. “my names angelo” he looked down at you, awaiting your response. maybe even for you to tell him your name. but you just looked back up to your friends. he decided to shake it off and whistle over a worker, she strode over in her risqué outfit. he even eyed her up and down, this man was a perverted horn-dog. “can i get this beautiful woman a bourbon on the rocks” he says as he maintains eye contact with you. “yes sir” his eyes flash to hers before looking back at you. you just look to your friends for help, they sit back and laugh. “sorry this isn’t right, i have a boyfriend” you say as you show him the necklace with the letter ‘B’ drenched in gold on it. he just stared down at it before smirking. “i’ve always had a thing for taken women”

“well i don’t have a thing for cheating so back up please” you turn away from him as your friends stare at him along with his friends. they laughed in his face before getting quiet when he just stared at you.

he stayed there, not talking to you but staring. he never left. you felt uncomfortable under his deep stare as you did your best to not make eye contact. if only boyka was here you closed your eyes wishing he was sitting next to you, hand around your waist as he held you securely.

next thing you know the man with a microphone starts talking as the round ends. “on the left side of the ring we have tony azerial, coming with 5’7 189 pounds and very skilled. on the right side we have a new fighter, 5’10, 202 pounds..yuri boyka!” his name was shouted which made your head snap up to the look for your boyfriend. your friends jaws dropped knowing he was your boyfriend. the whole crowd booed since they didn’t know how skillful he was. but they’ll soon learn.

you perked up, standing to your heeled feet and walking a little closer towards the ring with the crowd. he walked out not having seen you yet, his muscles were huge, your mouth was watering. wearing only black shorts with two white stripes going down the sides of them. he stepped into the ring, placing in his mouth piece and shaking his head to loosen up his neck muscles. he stood in his corner and waited for them to begin.

your mouth was almost down to the floor, it’s been five months you two were together and he hasn’t told you he is an underground fighter. you felt sort of betrayed. ‘so this is the reason he always came over sore and bruised?’ everything fell into place. your heart was beating rapidly, what’s gonna happen? is he gonna lose? will he win? you were thinking the worst.

the bell rang and they both came out their corners. your friends gathering beside you. “i didn’t know he was a fighter” kaitlyn blurted out dumbfounded. “yeah me either” you mumbled under your mouth in awe as he dodged the man’s hits, the guy did a round house kick only for boyka to grab his foot and twisting it around the man’s back. the man returned the favor by grabbing boykas arm and dropping him to the floor. they both scrambled to their feet, boyka running and jumping on the post before performing a spinning back heel kick. you bit your lip in anticipation your fingers fiddling with each other.

his opponents neck snapped as he fell to the floor completely unconscious. you were horrified, how can people do this for money?! what if that was your boyfriend who just got knocked out with his neck snapped?! albeit he did look pretty sexy, sweating like crazy with all that chest hair.

“boyka!” your voice yelled out. his head whipped from side to side to find that gorgeous face of yours. eyes bulging out seeing you and only you. everyone else disappearing.

he was barely bloody but there were cuts bleeding on his face. the guy grabbed boykas arm and cheered him on. everyone shouting “boyka! boyka! boyka!!”repeatedly.

he exited the ring and rushed over to you. pulling you into his arms. “you didn’t tell me you fought?” your voice reeked of betrayal. he kissed your lips, it was soft..it was nice and gentle. you wanted to be wrapped in his arms forever to savior the feeling of his body against yours. his lips showing you the most affection anyone has ever shown.

“i’m sorry i didn’t want you to think of me as a monster..” your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer if that was even possible from the way your bodies were so close together you could almost feel the sweat seep into your dress and touch you. “i would never, you’re everything to me baby” everyone is still cheering on boyka as you were engulfed into him. “i’m doing this for us sweetheart, i want to be able to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” his voice deep and heavy, he was regaining his breath as he pulled away slightly to look you in the eyes. taking your chin between his fingers.

“you’re all i’ve ever wanted, i don’t need anything else from you. just you.” he grinned of pure joy. he wanted to take you home right now and show you how much he wants to spoil you. show you how manly and dominant he is. he growled in your ear, “when i’m done, i’m going to take you home..and fuck you” his accent sending electricity straight to your cunt.

you whined at his words and he grinned like a mad man, showing his pearly whites. “please” you felt like fire in his arms, you felt like melting right through him. “don’t worry, boykas gonna take very good care of his woman”.

your legs tightened together out of pure arousal you wanted him to take you right here right now, rip your clothes off and fuck you. but you feel embarrassed to say that you’re a virgin. you feel your slick gush onto your panties. he kissed your lips one last time before walking off into the locker rooms again.

“girl! you are so lucky..i need me a man like that” you laughed it off even though you could tell ashley was always a tinge bit jealous of you and boyka. you guys both went back to the tables and sat down sipping on your drinks as they started up a conversation. you weren’t paying attention too busy thinking about what boyka could do to your body. you wondered if he would take you gently and slow and passionate or if he’d fuck you into the mattress and having you scream his name till the sun came up. you’ve never had sex but you’ve read a couple things here and there. you were still inexperienced though.

two fights later and boyka was about to fight in his last match. he won all three so far, he looked so appetizing soaring through these men like they were fields of tall grass. the way he moved was so hot it made your mouth fill with saliva causing you to salivate and swallow every second.

the man still hovered over your form. he just wouldn’t leave you alone. he would still try to make conversation but you ignored him and stared at your incredibly handsome boyfriend in the ring waiting for the bell to ding. “dude leave her alone for christ’s sake!” lily yelled at him once he got even closer to your standing form. boyka turned his head to look at you, smiling with a small blush on your cheeks. he noticed the man insanely close to you. too close for comfort. boyka started to feel jealous he felt he needed to protect you from that dirty looking man. his dominance kicked in as he stared daggers into the man beside you. the bell rang and his opponent made a fast move jabbing him in the ribs. a cheap move. you let out a gasp and stood up tall, your lip quivering.

his opponent making fast punches to his ribs, boyka groaned as he grabbed the guys arm and flipped him on his back. getting on top of him he took his anger out on the poor man. his punches tearing into the man’s face, beating him to the bloody pulp. “boyka stop!!” you shouted out to him. angelo grabbing your arms when you tried to move closer to the ring. “forget that fucker, come with me baby” he had a tight grip on your arm causing a bruise to form. you tried to yank your arm away. lily and kaitlyn grabbed him and started yanking on his suit to pull him away from you but it was no use, he was to strong for the both of them.

finally the bell rang several times, boyka looking over to see the man assaulting you. he jumped out the ring and stomped over to you. grabbing the man by his throat and slamming him to the ground. both hands choking him.

“boyka no!” you yelped out as you grabbed onto his arm to pull him off the man. now you can’t say him beating a man up for you isn’t causing your legs to tremble purely from excitement. yes you were a little scared but boyka himself was making you so wet. you could feel your wetness drip through your panties.

“boyka please..” you begged.

finally two bodyguards ripped boyka off angelo and held him back. people cheered him on still but others surrounding the man unconscious on the floor. trying to get him to wake up. but he didn’t.. zourab clapped his hands walking up to boyka. “good job boyka! you did very good” his accent also thick. you stood next to boyka who snatched his body away from the bodyguards to hold you in his embrace.

his arms holding you tightly, your hands clutching his back. he whispered to you “are you okay?”fuming, out of breath. you nodded your head in his neck. he looked up at zourab. you still in his embrace, zourab held a bag out in front of boyka, he slowly took the bag as the adrenaline wore off and he started to feel the pain shoot through his legs and sides.

he groaned as he clutched his side, you pulled back to look around you. your friends staring in complete shock. boyka kept you by his side as he went to the locker rooms and got his duffle bag, he quickly changed before walking back out to speak with zourab. everyone surrounding boyka and you. “well done, come back in a week and we’ll set you up a meeting with the pros, we’ll talk business then” he shook hands with zourab and walked out with you still in his warm arms. your friends waved bye to you before exiting the club and getting in the car.

‘i’ll just get my car at lily’s tomorrow’ you thought to yourself, boyka guided you to his car and opened the door for you. buckling you in before shutting your door and walking you over to his side of the car.

the words came back to you, his words.

he got in and started the engine, he looked at you, your hands picking at each other and fiddling with the hem of your dress. you stared down into your lap. clenching your legs together. he took notice and ran his hand up your thigh, kneading the soft doughiness. you blushed and looked up at him with your doe eyes. “keep looking at me with those eyes and i won’t wait till we get home” he grunted as he pulled out the driveway and down the street.

he started speeding so you gripped your seat with one hand and your other grabbed his hand that rested on your inner thigh. he made it home as fast as he could, slamming his door and rushing over to yours, grabbing you out the car. he threw you over his shoulder as you let out a yelp and gripped his muscle shirt.

you two got inside, not even bothering locking the door just slamming it shut and dropping his things on the floor and jogging up the steps, your ass bouncing with every step. his hand landed harshly on your ass and gripped it. whimpering he opened your bedroom door and laid you down on your back. “boyka..please” he ripped your dress off and scooted you more onto the bed so your head landed softly on the pillows. “i know angel” you were only wearing panties that were soaked with your juices. he almost let out a moan just at the sight of you. he’s never really seen you sprawled out like this for him. he tore off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. his briefs containing his massive cock. you could see it throbbing and twitching in its confinement.

he could see the sheer terror on your face when you saw his huge hard and aching cock in his briefs. he kneeled between your legs to kiss up your neck. letting half his weight dip onto you. his cock was so painfully hard as it glided against your sopping pussy.

“fuck i’ve waited so long to touch this pussy of yours” his words shooting straight to your core. “boyka, stop it..your dirty words” you moaned out as he sucks on your perky pebbled nipples. he grinned as he popped a nipple out and showing love to your other breast.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve got you” he rubs his hands up and down your sides to sooth you. he then glides down your body and travels to that dripping cunt of yours. tearing off your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. “so wet, is all this for me?” you nod your head and looked away out of embarrassment. his hand quickly coming up to grab your jaw and make you stare into his deep dark eyes.

“look at me.” his demand was so attractive to you. you couldn’t help but whine. “yeah keep your eyes on me, don’t look away” he maintained eye contact while filling his head between your legs and spreading them wide. hot breath hovering over your heat causing you to lean up on your elbows to watch closely. his tongue flattened on your clit and moved it side to side to make your juice ooze out that pretty little hole of yours.

“boyka oh my-“ his tongue stuck itself right into your entrance swirling around and lapping up the liquids that dripped everywhere especially in his beard. your moans flowed out your mouth so angelically that it had him grunting in your cunt and grinding his hips into the bed for some bit of friction. he stuck one finger in your pussy and slowly curled it trying to find that one spot. when you arched your back he knew he had found it, grinning to himself as he continued to curl on that spot before adding a second finger and sucking on your swollen nub.

“yes there- there please more!”

your pleas filled the room echoing around the walls. he’s pretty sure the neighbors can hear you. ‘fuck i need to be inside of her, but i must wait. her pussy isn’t ready for my cock’

he thought to himself, he could feel you clenching and unclenching around his thick and long fingers. “c’mon baby cum for me.” that’s all you needed to hear before your hands gripped the sheets and you creamed all over his fingers. he rode out your high making sure it lasts as long as it can before giving your clit one last kiss and pulling out his fingers. you lay down on your back trying to catch your breath.

“that’s a good girl, cumin’ all over my fingers, tasting so good” he praised you, wanting to stick his heavy thick dick right into that tight pussy of yours. he’s having a hard time containing himself for you. “you ready for me?” you nodded your head slowly and gulping down your nervousness.

he pulled his cock out of his briefs and pulled them down. running his tip through your folds making sure to get him nice and wet so he’ll glide with ease. her little moans were driving him crazy and he couldn’t take it any longer. slowly pressing his tip in only for you to yelp and pull your hips back. “i’m sorry..i’m trying my hardest here” he said sincerely as he leaned down to kiss your lips, you gripped his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“i know i’m sorry, it hurts. i’ve never done this before..” his eyes bulged out of his sockets once again. he had no idea, i mean sure you seemed somewhat clueless when it came to sexual things but he didn’t think you were a virgin, just inexperienced. “why didn’t you tell me?” he pulled back reconsidering everything right now. “i didn’t want you to leave me for being inexperienced..” you looked away with your eyebrows pinched together embarrassed.

“i love that about you..i can be your first.” he mumbled more to himself but you heard him anyway. causing a little smile to spread across your face.

‘this is even better, i can claim this virgin pussy all to myself!’

“boyka..” your hands wrapped around his neck as you stared into his eyes. “i want you to fuck me.” his breath hitched as it was caught in his throat. he closed his eyes when he felt a deep energy course through his cock. “are you sure my dear?” he opened his eyes to make sure you were certain.

“yes” he kissed your lips hungrily and your tongues mashed together swirling around as he explored your mouth. kissing down your neck and to your chest making his way down to your clit before sitting back on his calves and rubbing his tip back into your folds.

he alighted himself before hovering over you so you can hold onto him with all of your strength. he slowly pushed in but just the tip, you tried to hold yourself as still for him but you failed and squirmed beneath him. he decided to lay his weight onto you so you didn’t try and get away from him.

“i got you, it’s okay i’ll go as slow as you want” you nodded into the crook of his neck and whined. he went deeper and you feel as though he’s hit the back of your cunt but just when you think it’s over he entered another two inches. “no! too big!” she clawed down his back.

“ i know i know” he soothed you. whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

suddenly the pain turned into pleasure and you started to move your hips for him, he groaned knowing you want more, his thrusts getting slightly faster. “more more!” you chanted and he granted your wish. slamming his hips into yours and kissing down your neck leaving little love bites. he let a moan slip when you clenched around him. you gasped loving the sound he made for you.

“boy-ka again” you moaned to him, he didn’t know what you were talking about so he just pounded harder and deeper. your cunt clenching him so tightly it feels like a snake that has a vice grip on him. he let another moan slip and when he did he felt your pussy get even wetter.

so that’s what you wanted..

he couldn’t lie, he didn’t like the whole moaning for your woman but for you? anything. his grunts turned to little moans and he leaned back to watch you. pounding so hard your tits bounced and your back arched. “yes baby, who’s being a good girl for me?” he moans again.

his hands gripped your breasts as he fucked you raw, you gripped his wrists then letting your hands grasp onto his as they squeezed and kneaded your doughy silky tits. “i’m gonna..” you trailed off as your head fell back and your stomach felt like it was about to snap. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you babbled nonsense, drool coming out the corner of your mouth. he quickly leaned down and licked it before returning to his old position.

his hands went down your stomach and grabbed onto the meaty part of your hips. your hands pressing onto his abs, taking in every detail of his body as if he was gonna up and vanish. they then grabbed his neck and pulled him towards you.

he needed to smother you, you needed his full body weight resting on top of you.

he felt your walls clench again and you both became louder. he was gonna cum soon but he wanted you to cum first. quickly rubbing your highly sensitive nub you felt the knot in your stomach snap. you let out a pornographic scream and gushed all over his fat cock.

“my good girl, cumin’ all over my thick cock” he snapped his hips faster, he felt himself ready to cum but he wasn’t sure where.

“where do you want it baby? huh? tell me.”

“in-inside me please” you begged but it didn’t take much convincing for him to empty his creamy load deep inside your gummy walls. he rode out the high and kissed your lips and forehead. smoothing out your crazy hair. you were overstimulated and started writhing beneath him.

“what’s wrong?” he pulled away slightly to look down at your flushed and sweaty face. “too much” was all you said before wrapped your arms back around his body,

he made sure to pull out slowly and rest himself between your thighs again.

“how you feeling pretty girl?” you nodded too stunned to speak. he looked down at your gorgeous cunt, oozing his cum and yours with a mixture of a little blood. he smirked as he knew he was the first and last man to ever fuck this virgin pussy. “a-ama-“ he softly shushed you before getting up to get clean clothes and wet wipes.

he wiped himself down before wiping you down extra careful to not over stimulate you further more. he pulled on sweatpants and put your fresh panties on you with his shirt sliding over your body.

“come here, go to sleep darling we’ll shower in the morning” he pulled you into his arms and you felt his muscles ripple against you. “goodnight boyka” is all you said before planting a kiss on his neck and dozing off shortly.

[nagirambles]

Hi welcome back ! Hope your doing ok 🥰 would it be alright if I request what if hcs for healer Happy please 🙏 ( he has so much potential and I wish we saw him do more things , maybe him even getting his own arc where he’s a healer and how he feels that Wendy is also a healer to , could be happy to have another pair of hands to help heal the team or angst that the team might not need him anymore👀)

Ohhhh healer happy. I remember mentioning it all the way in Phantom or TOH on this blog, okay, here I go,

Healer Happy would, to preface, separate himself from Wendy in the sense that he's a resourceful healer, while Wendy is a magic healer. This means he's the one to run to when you need bandages, medicine, herbs, heat packs, needles, etc. Wendy doesn't need those items because she can heal any of those (including sores, motion sickness, so she doesn't need any tools or home remedies) but since troia works less the more you stack, Happy continues to come through with warm ginger teas and massages. Or a wrench, or a hammer, or a fish! Or frozen peas. He also has scissors and hair clips and staples and anything you can think of that fits inside a very well-furnished first aid kit. He throws them at enemies when he's fighting, they all come out of his bag.

Whether his bag is an endless doraemon sack, or if he uses requip to seem like he's pulling ridiculous things out of his bag-- up to you. I think it's funny to see him pull a huge bag of ice out of his tiny bag and flip them over someone's head, goodbye

This gives me a fun idea, honestly-- he'd definitely hang around Porlyusica's place a lot. She hates humans, and I think that canonically extends to cats as well, but let's say it doesn't. (thinking about the jade dragon from GMG graveyard and maybe all dragons are silly tolerant with cats. Maybe that can be a trend. She is an Edo version of a dragon after all--) but anyways! Maybe he's her pseudo-apprentice of sorts, since she does the classic witchy potionmaking. ('Apprentice' as in he stares at her while she works, from some corner of the building or thorugh the window. And she gave up trying to chase him out.)

I'd imagine a sort of Dr Kureha and Chopper type dynamic. Maybe she's where Happy gets the knowledge from (Happy-sensei exposition duty,) she doesn't directly teach him anything, but he does learn a lot just from hanging around her house.

Which would mean the two people Happy are closest with both have pink hair hahaaa I kinda wanna see Meredy and Sherry learning this, thinking it's adorable, and trying to get into the club. I would think he loves sakura season because of the pink. There is... so much chopper similarity what the hell. Even Dr Kureha's catchphrase is 'ya happy?' and I'm obsessed with that actually. Reincarnation fic I need

I would imagine just like in battle, Wendy has less actual field knowledge. Which means we could have situations like setting bones properly before healing them (because healing them right away would fuse wrong and cause permanent damage). Or situations where Wendy can heal a contagious epidemic, but they have no idea where it comes from-- Happy would be able to realize it's a magic problem, or a virus, or a curse, and where it'd come from (animals, trees, sewage, etc.) We could also have Happy the therapy cat, where people go to him to talk feelings. We could address the PTSD or depression that's displayed in some characters. Maybe he's already helping them through some of it! Maybe he displays some of this when Edolas happens and it's the breakthrough that pulls Carla out of her darkness? And so on, and so forth.

I can imagine FT would take a more genuine direction with their injuries if there was a healer happy. The anime erases most of them, but I'd like to see Happy actually scolding people who are too reckless when injured (most of our boys,) needlessly causing injuries around in barfights (splinters are hard to get out! Hey!) or even refusing medical advice to go be stupid. (I'd like to see a situation where someone's stubborn for a mild injury, it gets worse, and becomes permanent damage. Eg Thunder Legion not bothering with persistent eye discomfort, only to figure out too late there's an infection and end up with blind/astig/photokeratitis/migraines. It could serve as a lesson for the rest and a character building moment for happy. Maybe something like that could even be in the BoFT, where Happy points this out to Lucy and that helps them win the fight.) I'd like to think we could include Loke in this group of people that Happy mother-hens the hell out of, because something's always been weird about him, Happy just doesn't know what.

All that doesn't stop him from maybe feeling a little obsolete or distressed about his role in the team once Wendy arrives, though. I feel he'll overlap with Wendy a lot, and if there was an arc about him, I'd expand on this. How-- well, by having Wendy and Natsu switch cats for a mission! (It'd be set right after Wendy joins.) It seems like Carla and Natsu are both headstrong, straightforward types, while in this AU Wendy and Happy are a little more humble, behind-the-scenes, and resourceful healers. This duality will make a fun shenanigans arc where they work together to find their flaws and differences and learn to appreciate both their original partners and their new addition to the guild. Wendy is still learning the ropes, so Happy gets to be 1. a big brother for once (he's usually baby of the family always) and 2. learn about finding individuality, confidence, and strength at your own pace. (Something Wendy is also working her way through, but from a different perspective from Happy.)

That's all for now. Thanks for the ask! <3

[hearingaidsprofessional]

Here’s How You Can Clean And Charge Your Hearing Aids?

You might notice things with your assistive listening devices if you can establish a good routine. Interesting sounds you had never heard before and many earwax might come to your attention. 

This guide will assist you in learning everything you need to know about charging and maintaining your devices so they are as clean as possible.

Your Hearing Aids Need Cleaning

Your ears produce earwax for two different purposes. Earwax, first and foremost, lubricates your ear. You might imagine it as a lip balm for the interior of your ears. Additionally, it offers your ears a substantial defence against outside items or illnesses. 

This might be dust or even tiny insects. Earwax is essential for preserving your ears, but if you have a lot of it, it may obstruct your devices and increase the likelihood of repair.

For this precise reason, it is advised that you regularly take the time to clean your devices. You can quickly get some tissues or, if you want, use a dry cloth. You must dab the earpiece while you have this. Ideally, this will get rid of any wax on the gadget.

Replace your earwax filter immediately if your devices aren't working as effectively as they should be and there is a significant buildup. If it does, don't be concerned; just get in touch with your audiologist, who can advise you on what to do. 

If hearing aids for pensioners or anyone are still relatively new and you aren't accustomed to wearing them, they might do it for you.

Your Hearing Aids' Charging

How frequently you use your device while streaming music will typically affect how long they last on a charge. The good news is that charging your devices is not at all challenging. All you have to do is plug them into the charger overnight, and when you wake up in the morning, you'll notice that they are already completely charged.

If necessary, you can also recharge them during the day. If you know that you live somewhere prone to wet or even humid weather, you need to make sure that you correctly place them into the charger and use a drying kit.

Replace the Battery

You shouldn't be concerned if your hearing aid does not have a rechargeable battery. Your hearing aid's battery change doesn't have to be difficult. Your hearing aid's batteries will typically last three to fifteen days. Of course, how much you use them will determine this. 

This is especially true for streaming music, television, or other features. When the battery is becoming low, you will typically hear a sound, which will let you know it's time to change the batteries. This warning period may change depending on how your audiologist has set up your device.

How to Check the Life of Your Batteries?

Putting a sound system in place is essential to keep track of your device’s battery life. Try adhering a battery-generated dot sticker to a calendar. You can determine when the batteries were last changed if you do this. When doing this, you can estimate how long it will be until you need to replace the batteries.

Over a flat surface, like a tray or even a table, swap out the batteries. It will be simpler to locate the batteries if you drop them. Try to wait a minute after removing the sticker from your battery before replacing it. For the battery to operate at its best, this aids in the appropriate air intake.

Why Hearing Aids Professionals?

We at Hearing Aids Professionals are dedicated to improving your daily life by providing hearing assessment and devices tailored to your requirements. We'll ensure you receive the most thorough examination and fitting for devices. 

You can relax knowing that you will be kept informed every step.We welcome inquiries and worries from you and your family in order to help you achieve your goals.

We elicit information from you through our questions to assess the severity of your auditory loss and create a rehabilitation plan specifically for you. Have you been trying to find a local expert on hearing aids? Contact the experts in hearing aids right away!

For more information, just enter “audiologist near me” on google and find us there!

[gierosajie]

Last night I was overcome with the desire to draw these two dorks immediately, haha

There is...so much going on with BBB Frostfire's clothes that adding on Todoroki's two-toned hair just- yeah. It...sorta looks okay? The heterochromia on both of them is also a thing I just noticed while coloring.

I tried making Boboiboy a bit shorter, though not quite sure how obvious it is with Todoroki hunched over a bit and Boboiboy sitting a little straighter.

I can't, for the life of me, seem to remember how to draw Boboiboy's boots. Or watch, for that matter.

[darling-i-read-it]

Comfy

Karl Heisenberg x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: injury, cussing

Author’s Note: I hope you like this babes! Karl my beloved omg, slight re8 spoilers

Requested: by anon, Ooooo requests? Maybe? Idk it says open so I shall ✨request✨. M’kay, so I’m thinking that Karl has a gf that likes soft things (blankets, sweaters, pillows, pjs, that kind of stuff) and small enclosed spaces, so Karl makes a small-ish room for her to put all of her stuff in and cuddle up to for when she’s cold/wants to relax. Like she has a switch and a tv and wifi- it’s like a soft man cave but for her and Karl. Anyway, Ethan is looking for baby and comes across her room and tries to hide in it, not knowing she’s IN there and asleep. He gets in there, notices the blankets and pillows and accidentally steps on her ankle, which HURT and makes her scream. Karl hears said scream and comes barrelling over in protective bf mode to beat Ethan up. It’s up to you whether gf goes “oi don’t be mean he’s looking for his baby” or not

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“I just think that it couldn’t be that hard for you to make a small place, hidden away.” Your voice didn’t carry far in the small room but it didn’t have to. You had a blanket over you as you sat up at the edge of the bed. Karl was walking back and forth around the room as he grabbed things to start his day. “You’re very good with your hands,” you said pleasantly. He pointed at you.

“You’re right about that.”

“Come on Karl. Just a small place. You can use it too if you want to run away for a minute.” He stopped in front of you, the first time he had stopped in a couple of minutes. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath.

“I will see what I can do.” You grabbed his hand and slid it to your lips, kissing his palm.

“You’re the best.”

“I know.” He paused. “Say it again.”

“You’re the best Karl.” He leaned down and gave you a kiss before backing away to the door.

“You better believe it.”

===

You didn’t bring up your small place for a couple of days, just in case he really didn’t want to do it. You just figured that you could have a small room in the factory that no one but the two of you knew existed so you could finally have some privacy. You could fill it with soft things, blankets, pillows, all of that. And entertainment as well of course.

But he didn’t bring it up and you didn’t want to push it. He had a lot to do during his days and you didn’t want to add more stress.

You were sitting behind him, arms around his waist as he massaged your hands gingerly. You had your cheek pressed flat against his back as you both breathed, telling each other about your days.

“I made it.”

“Huh?”

“I made the room.” You backed up, pulling away from him. He had to turn because he wanted to know what your expression was. He was very pleased to find an overjoyed look.

“You aren’t messing with me are you?”

“No. Maybe. No, I’m not. I finished it earlier today, do you want to see it?” He had a goofy look on his face, like you wouldn’t want to see it.

“I would love to see it!”

He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of bed. You were allowed to walk around the factory but it still left you dizzy after walking around too long. Karl had given you a map and you had been around enough to know where you were going but there was still so much going on.

Fortunately Karl didn’t walk far as he led you down a hallway with a dead end.

“Not too far from the room so you won’t get lost,” he said condescendingly. You shoved him but he just smiled his little sarcastic smile at you. He kicked at the wall and a door opened just a little bit. You watched as he moved the very small door open to reveal a small cubby hole of a room. It was tall enough to fit the both of you which was preferred so you could both get in and out. There were blankets inside, along with things to entertain yourself.

You clapped your hands and fell onto the comfy ground, landing on a stuffed animal, pillow and blanket. You grabbed his hand.

“Come here, lay with me.”

“Maybe later kitten, I gotta get back to work,” he told you, leaning against the door frame.

“Well at least shut the door. We don’t want our little secret getting out or else Mother Miranda will find us here as well.” He rolled his eyes and stepped inside, careful not to smush anything with his work boots. You grinned as the door shut behind him. “Five minutes,” you whispered.

He let out an annoyed sigh despite not being annoyed in the slightest.

“Five minutes.”

You pulled him down to lay with you and started to explore the small place that he had built for you.

=====

All Ethan Winters knew at this point was running away from danger. He was always exhausted when the adrenaline wore out and he was sick and tired of having to find hiding spots.

That being said, he was currently looking for a hiding spot to guard him away from the horrors of this factory.

Breath heaving, he stopped running as he came to a hallway with a dead end. He turned around, hearing the horrific sounds of something or someone gaining on him. He put his back against the wall and then fell through it, surprised to land on a pleasant cloud of pillows and blankets. Realizing that this was a room he quickly shut the door with his foot so that no one would be able to find him in here.

He held his gun in his hand and put his back against the wall, looking around feverishly. The rooms were tall but the width was very very small, just enough space for maybe two people if they were really close to each other. Blankets covered the ground, making lumps and lumps of comfort.

Ethans eyes narrowed in confusion. Had he made it outside of the factory? This definitely didn’t look like Heisenbergs doing.

You opened your eyes slowly at someone landing on your feet. Naturally you figured it was Karl so you didn’t even raise your head much as you waited for him to search the blankets to find you. As you woke up from your sleep you heard the unfamiliar breathing of someone you did not recognize.

Your eyes snapped open and your heart started to beat quickly. You stayed still but the person stood up, standing very harshly on your ankle which must have twisted it or something but it hurt like a motherfucker. You yelped and sat up, eyes narrowing in on Ethan Winters, who you recognized from some pictures. He held the gun up to you but didn’t shoot, thank God.

“Hey hey hey!” you yelled, hands up. “I’m unarmed.” He looked terribly confused and didn’t lower his gun at all. You yanked your leg back to you and moved the blankets aside to see that your ankle was twisted in some kind of way. You couldn’t even tell what he had done but his boots were heavy and so was his step.

“Who are you?” he asked, breath not slowing down to an even pace.

“Y/N. You’re Ethan yeah? You stepped on my ankle!” He lowered his gun to your ankle to look and agreed, it did not look good.

“Listen I’m sorry I’m just trying to get out of-”

The door swung open causing you both to jump in surprise.

Karl stood there, big hammer in his hand as he looked between you and Ethan. He quickly surveyed the situation and noticed you holding your ankle. One look and he could tell, Ethan had done something to it.

Ethan raised his gun to Karl, annoyed he hadn’t been able to catch a break.

Karl felt his anger bubble in his chest at the sight of you hurt. He moved forward, grabbing Ethan by the shirt and lifting him in the air.

“You think you can just come into my factory and hurt Y/N of all people?” he sneered, voice deadly. Ethan had always heard a kind of sarcastic tinge to his voice but right now he was deadly serious. It sent a chill down his spine.

You stood up, using the wall to anchor you and gingerly holding your foot up above the ground to not put pressure onto it. You put a hand on Karls arm.

“He didn’t mean to. I’m sure you have plenty of other things to crucify him for but take it out of my room.” Karl didn’t even look over at you. You and Ethan met eyes and he weighed his options on trying to get sympathy out of you. He decided he probably could’t, not with Heisenberg right there.

“I’ll be right back,” Karl muttered. He took Ethan by the shirt and threw him out the door, following close behind. You looked down at the boot prints on your blankets and sighed.

====

Karl wasn’t gone more than 20 minutes and he came rushing back to you. He hated feeling so vulnerable, knowing people had the ability to hurt him so easily through you. He opened the door to your little room and started to panic when he saw you weren’t there.

He turned around, walking swiftly, trying not to act like he was panicked, back to yours and his room. You sat on the bed, some of the blankets from the tiny room on the ground. You had a first aid kit on the bed beside you as you attempted to bandage yourself up. It looked like you were failing.

“Where the hell did you go?” he asked and he meant for it to sound angry but it came out sounding more worried. You gestured to the blanket pile.

“Needed to clean the blankets. And also wrap this ankle up. Where’s Ethan?”

“Taken care of.” He kneeled in front of you and grabbed the wrap from you. He fumbled with the first aid kit. “How do you feel? Broken? Should I cut it off?” You scoffed.

“Maybe you should. It hurts like a motherfucker.”

“Well let’s get it wrapped and see how it does.” You nodded and let his fingers work their magic. When he was done you grabbed his hands.

“Thank you Karl.”

“I’m sorry he found you. I thought I hid it well enough.”

“It was an accident, don’t worry about it.” He nodded and you kissed his forehead with a smile. “Now go wash those blankets. Those are your boot prints, mister.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid down on the bed beside you.

“No, but thank you for asking.”

“Pff if you weren’t comfy I would kick you out right this very second.”

[daisybeewrites]

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

<<3

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: four

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, implied drug use (marijuana)

a/n: posting an hour early :)

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Simple words, and predictable ones, but his heart still hurts. He knew this, he knew it was coming, he knew what you would say, he prepared himself for it, so why does it feel like his world is crashing down? He’s leaving you, but he guesses you’re leaving him first. The thought brings him comfort. He didn’t want to involve you in this, as much as it hurts watching you walk away. He should be thankful that you’re breaking his heart and not the other way around. He should be thankful that you’ll hopefully hold this against him for the rest of his life. He should be thankful that you will never know the cold steel of a gun, the glint of an attacker’s knife. 

You’re long gone by now, probably tucked into bed. He’s right where you left him, although he is no longer staring at the spot where you were standing. Now, he’s watching the moonlight on the water. The world looks cast in melancholy blue; a beautiful setting for his final night and a tearful goodbye.

He is thankful for this last chance to see you; to memorize your features and commit them all to memory. He is thankful for the tears on his face, as he will not be allowed to show them in the future. He is thankful for all the emotions that he is currently feeling; he savors them, knowing that when he wakes up tomorrow, they will be long gone; suppressed forever. 

---

You’re up and running before you even have the chance to fully grasp the situation at hand. There’s blood, so much blood; Miwa’s calling to you, but you can’t hear her. There’s only the pounding of your heart in your ears and the four years worth of schooling you’ve received; racking your brain for any and all useful information. 

“I need all the medical supplies you have; a first aid kit, bandages, forceps, scissors.” You pray that Miwa is listening, that your voice is projecting. “I know we probably can’t take him to the hospital, but if you have a doctor you normally see for stuff like this, call them.”

You press your hands to the wound. From what you can tell, it’s a bullet wound towards the bottom left of Kageyama’s chest. His heart is still beating and his breathing is slow, but steady, and you allow yourself a moment to be thankful that his lung hasn't collapsed. You focus on your next steps: stopping the bleeding, fully assessing the severity of the wound, and stabilizing Kageyama somewhere that isn’t the foyer’s floor. 

Miwa drops down next to you with what you hope are sterile rags. “I called our doctor, she’ll be here soon.” She unwraps the plastic covering and hands you the rags, and you press them to Kageyama’s chest. “If we can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but shiver at the thought that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. 

---

Kageyama Tobio is used to being shot at, but the bullets rarely meet their mark. Unfortunately, due to his own stupidity, this one does. 

He curses as he runs to his car and jams the keys into the ignition. The fleeting thought that the blood will be a pain to get out of the seats crosses his mind, but he shakes his head and it’s gone. His only goal now is to get back to the penthouse. Miwa will know what to do. 

When he stumbles in, feeling faint, his exhausted brain short-circuits at the sight of you. He falls to the floor as his vision blurs, feeling slightly thankful that if he dies tonight, at least the last thing he saw was you.

---

He knows he’s dreaming, that he’s drifting in and out of consciousness. He dreams of his childhood spent by your side, he dreams of your final goodbye. Even when he thinks he’s awake, he knows he must be dreaming, because you’re here, holding his hand and sitting by his side. He tries to reach out, to brush the tears off of your cheeks, but he can’t. He feels as if he’s failed you again.

---

The doctor is nice, a woman in her late twenties named Kiyoko. She performs her duties clinically, allowing you to help where you can and reassuring Miwa that everything will be fine. When the bullet is finally removed and Kageyama is stitched up, you collapse into a chair next to his bed.

You watch him carefully as Miwa flits around the penthouse, cleaning up and moving around Kageyama’s appointments for the next few weeks to allow him time to recover. You hold his hand in your own and rest your head on the side of the bed.

You were terrified tonight, you’ll admit it. You aren’t quite sure how you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand. You’re thankful that he is still breathing, that his heart is still beating. 

If you hadn’t walked away, would this be the norm for you? Would you be accustomed to Kageyama coming home bleeding and half-dead? You don’t know how you would cope in a situation like that, unsure if Kageyama would come home in one piece or even come home at all. The thought terrifies you; knowing that for these past four years, there were times where he was injured and you had no clue, and that he will most likely continue to get hurt in the future.

Is it better or worse to be here for it, to be aware? Is it better to know and be there for him while enduring the pain of it all, or is it better to be blissfully unaware, back to your normal life where you know his job is a risk, but you aren’t involved?

---

The man is thrilled at all of the information contained in a tiny computer file. Better than he ever could have imagined; giving him the ability to hurt his enemy is the worst possible way - through the people he cares about. 

It’s a low blow, even in this world, but what can he do? He’s run out of options. His enemy’s reign over Tokyo has encroached too far into his own territory, and has been occurring for far too long. 

You’re an easy target; far better than attempting anything with his sister. She has the knowledge and power of the underworld to wield against him, but you, you, are perfect. No skills with a weapon, no comprehension of how things work in this world. 

An innocent, perfect girl for him to corrupt. 

He grins at the thought. 

---

When Kageyama’s eyes finally open in the early hours of the morning, you almost burst into tears. You knew that he was physically fine; the wound would hurt, but was stitched and bandaged and fixed. You didn’t know how it would take a toll on the rest of his body. Some people suffer traumatic injuries and don’t wake up for days, months, years, ever. 

You grin as Kageyama slowly opens his eyes, assessing the room around him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is weak, but he’s awake. Alive. 

“Yeah?” You’re still holding his hand, leaning on your arm as you reach for his forehead to check his body temperature.

“You’re here.”

He’s clearly still a little out of it, and you can tell that his brain is trying to piece together the picture of you before him. You laugh a little before you answer, “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

His face is blank and he’s completely impassive when he says, “Not here.”

Miwa walks in to you laughing at Kageyama, who clearly does not understand why you’re laughing at him. She rushes over to him when she sees that he’s awake, gently hugging him.

“Tobio, thank god you’re alright. I was so fucking worried about you, you little shit.” She slaps his shoulder lightly, causing him to wince. 

You step away to give them some privacy, heading out to get some water and pain meds from the kitchen, but as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, Kageyama speaks up. “Y/n, are you leaving?”

The ache in his voice is obvious, and it sends a pang to your heart. “I’m just going to get some water and medication for you.”

He’s smiling a little when he turns back to Miwa. “Okay, good.”

---

The next few weeks are fine, generally speaking. You spend the majority of your time at Kageyama’s penthouse, watching over his recovery and hanging out with Miwa. Hana becomes a bit suspicious when she notices you’re away from home more than you’re there, but you simply say that you met an old friend at the club that night and you’ve been hanging out with them. It’s not necessarily a lie, and she buys it regardless; she’s so busy with Ushijima and school that you doubt she really notices how much you’re missing anyway. 

Most days, Miwa or Kageyama’s driver picks you up from the university in the afternoon, and you spend the rest of your evening in the penthouse. Sometimes, you sit by Kageyama’s bed and do homework while he rests, which most of the time ends up being a fight to get him to stay in bed while he insists he’s well enough to work. Other days, mostly when Kageyama is too tired to put up much of a fight, you hang out with Miwa, watching movies or cooking dinner together. 

It surprises you, just how easily you fit into their lives. Miwa says so as well, telling you that it has to be fate; there’s no way that someone could adjust to their lifestyle as quickly and as well as you do. You spend a lot of time thinking; you don’t mind being with them, in fact, you cherish your time at the penthouse. Kageyama’s job doesn’t phase you as much anymore. You don’t think about it when you spend time with him or Miwa, instead, you think about how appreciative you are for their roles in your life. 

Most recently, you’ve started helping Miwa with a task she deems “Mission: Impossible”. Apparently, Kageyama is disastrous when it comes to organization, so she’s taking the opportunity of him being bedridden to organize his office and the rest of the house. You don’t bat an eye when you and Miwa categorize what she refers to as the “weapons closet” or even when you come across files of all the hits that Kageyama has ever put out. The only thing that even makes you pause is when you come across Kageyama’s secret stash of marijuana.

“Really?” You hold the plastic bag up in one hand, your other hand on your hip. “Blunts?”

Kageyama just groans, sitting up. “If you and Miwa weren’t going through all my shit, you never would’ve found it.”

“Your shit is a mess! When was the last time you organized anything in this house?”

Kageyama brings his hand up, scratching the back of his hand. “Uh, never?”

“I can’t believe you.” You collapse onto the chair next to his bed, tossing the bag to him. “Now where’s the lighter?”

---

When Kageyama is finally cleared by Kiyoko to go back to work, you think that you won’t be seeing him and Miwa as often. You assume that they’ll be busy with whatever it is they do normally, so it comes as a surprise when you see Kageyama waiting for you after your last class. 

He’s leaning on a black McLaren Artura, turned away from you as he talks on the phone. You stop on the steps of your lab building, pausing to look at him while he’s not paying attention. After seeing him in sweats and t-shirts with messy hair for weeks while he recovered, it shocks you to see him in formal attire again. The late fall chill embraces you as you survey the black jeans and dark jacket, the wind-whipped hair and gold chain peeking out from beneath his collar. It’s times like these when your breath fully leaves you at how attractive Kageyama is. He’s receiving many stares, whether it’s from the boys checking out his car or the girls checking out him. He remains oblivious as always, talking pointedly into the phone until he spots you. 

He hangs up and opens the Artura’s door for you when you approach. You can feel the whispers surrounding you, but you ignore them in favor of sticking your chilling fingers in front of the car’s heat vent. Kageyama starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.

“I’m surprised to see you today. I thought you would’ve been busy on your first day back.”

He shrugs, giving a noncommittal hum. “It was mostly boring shit, meetings and such. I was completely over it by noon, so Miwa took over the last few for me.”

“You’re done already?” It’s only four in the afternoon, and you know he normally works much, much later than that.

“Done for now. I’ll go into the club later tonight to check on a few things, but that’s at least interesting.”

“Hm.” Looking out the window, you notice that you’re not heading towards the penthouse. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you out.”

You choke on air; as someone with Kageyama’s career, this could mean one of two things. “O-on a date?”

“Yeah,” he glances at you, “what else would that mean?”

“You don’t want to know what I was thinking.”

“Damn, y/n, I’m not going to kill you.” The wry smile on his face warns you of his upcoming words. “That would get blood on my seats.”

“Haha.” You roll your eyes and punch him lightly on the shoulder. “But really, you’re taking me out on a date? You didn’t even ask.”

“Well it’s more of a ‘thank you for nursing me back from the dead and helping Miwa’ date, but it can also be a real date, if you want that.”

The slight nervousness in his voice makes you grin. Only Kageyama could shoot someone in cold blood and be afraid to ask a girl out. “Okay.”

You watch as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile on his face. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

taglist: @lilith412426​ @itoshibaby​ @wallywaffle​ 

[robots-and-writing]

You're Holy to Me pt.2

Human AU! MTMTE Tarn

_ woke up to the warmth of sunlight hitting their face. Yawning languidly, they had never felt so comfortable in their life. Since when was their bed this plush? They couldn't bring themself to care until they attempted to find their phone on their nightstand and were met with an empty table. Not only that, as they opened their eyes they were shocked to find that they weren't even in their own house.

The room they were in reminded _ of a castle, luxurious and grand. It was practically fit for royalty with its four poster bed cozy lounging area. But when _ sat up to look around, they swayed in their spot. Their body felt weak and their head swam, but with a few more attempts _ managed to stand up only to fall flat on their face. I... why can't I move?

"Oh dear, are you alright?" _ grasped the gloved hand that reached out to them, but when they saw who came to help them their blood ran cold. A dark purple mask may have concealed his face but _ wasn't stupid. Even babies knew not to mess with a Decepticon, much less the Decepticon Justice Division.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" They couldn't stop their voice from quavering, or their body from trembling, but that's only natural when you're face to face with a murderer. The terrifying man shook his head, still holding his hand for them to grab.

"I am not here to hurt you, _."

"But that's what Decepticons do!"

"Now isn't the time for assumptions about my cause, _. You're here for a very important reason which I will explain in due time. Might I be able to help you up?" _ accepted, letting Tarn pull them up and assist them in walking to the couch. It's not like they could refuse the leader of the DJD. He was oddly gentle with them, making sure they didn't collapse again as they sat down.

"Now I'm sure you were startled to wake up in an unfamiliar room but I can explain why you were brought here."

"You're really not going to hurt me?"

"I won't let anyone harm you as long as I live. That's a promise. In fact that's precisely the reason you're here." Tarn had seated himself across from _ and leaned towards them ever so slightly. "_. You are someone I can't bear to lose. From the moment I met you, I knew I had to do anything to keep you at my side. After all, the only way I can completely assure I never lose you is to protect you myself."

"Then where am I?"

"You're at my base. I can make it so everything you could ever want is at your fingertips here. We have a pool, state-of-the-art sound systems, and an entire library of music and literature for-"

"I want to go home." Tarn didn't seem surprised to hear _'s protests at their new situation. He only leaned back in his seat with as far as _ could tell was a smile on his face.

"Oh _. This is home." His tone was soft, but firm. He would not be budging on this. He moved on quickly to the next topic, likely trying to distract them. He made sure they were alright, asking them if they were in any pain and if they remembered at all how they arrived at their new room. _'s responses were short as Tarn expected. It would take some time before they would trust him enough to confide in him but he was happy to wait. He had all the time in the world, and with no one in his way to get in the way of the two of them it was only a matter of time before they stayed with him out of sheer isolation.

"Now _, I am afraid I must take my leave. Besides I'm certain you're anxious to explore your new living quarters. If you need to talk to me all you need to do is text me and I'll be here in a flash, alright?" There was nothing _ could do but nod as Tarn bid them goodbye. At least whatever chemical was used to subdue them had mostly worn off by the time he was gone. And after a detailed examination of the room they were in and the rooms connected to it _ had made a few observations.

First was that the door their captor had left through was locked tight with only a tiny gap underneath. There wasn't even a way to pick the lock, as it was likely located on the other side of the door. The windows were a bust too, as though they were open, they had a protective screen on the other side that would need to be broken to get through. It probably wouldn't be best to anger Tarn by even trying as he seemed incredibly insistent that they stay in their suite.

They also figured out that Tarn wasn't lying when he said that everything _ had ever wanted was there. There was a kitchenette with every one of their favourite snacks, a wardrobe full of clothes on their shopping list, (Notably all the clothes would be impractical to attempt an escape in.) And a beautiful artists desk complete with all the most lavish and expensive art supplies they had only dreamed of before. It was uncanny really, how Tarn knew every one of their wants. That was most likely not a coincidence considering who he is and how seemingly obsessed he was with them.

The third observation was not only was there everything they had ever wanted, there was everything they would ever need. Tarn had certainly planned for every possible outcome. There was a first aid kit, fire extinguisher, air conditioning and heating control, and there was even a tablet left on the table that could only do one thing. Call Tarn.

It was sickening really, the lengths he went to make everything perfect. The entire time _ was searching the room it was all so eerily familiar until a nauseating realization hit them at full force. All the clothes? _ had bookmarked them online or mentioned them at some point. The snacks? _ had been dealing with what they assumed was a raccoon digging through their food trash, but the reality of it was far, far more disturbing. Even the desk was something they had been saving up for for a long time, something they assumed they would never be able to afford. "From the moment I met you, I knew I had to do anything to keep you at my side."  Tarn hadn't been lying about doing anything to keep them.

He was watching me.

He was listening to me.

Once again they dropped to the floor but this time it wasn't because of any chemical. Their thoughts were racing faster and faster, trying to think of any time they had seen him before, any break ins, but their mind was drawing a blank. It made sense really. He's the leader of the DJD, stalking is what he does. It wasn't like setting up bugs and cameras would be all that hard for someone like him to get done. For all they knew he could have gotten one of his lackeys to do it for him. Considering their situation, it was likely Tarn was still watching and listening now as they cried on the floor.

Not that he particularly cared. He could lounge in his office and watch _ as he pleased. A few tears were expected in the long run. His plan had worked. _ was with him, and they would never leave.

[randomshipshere]

Villainous Quartet (Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang, Su Minshan, Mo Xuanyu) + tiny bit of Chengyao : Part 2

I suck at writing villains so take my dumb Modern AU headcanons:

There's a pole dance room for four in their house because JGY does pole dancing in order to stay in shape, and teaches the other three how to pole dance. XY uses what he's taught at the strip clubs and MXY uses it when he's creating gay porn 3d videos online. SMS does it at the regular gym that has a fireman pole. It's meant for decor, but the staff allows him to use it. He gained popularity, which led to a fitness pole room to be built.

JGY and SMS practice Han Buddhism, so there's an alter, scriptures, statues and more in the house. XY and MXY don't believe in religion.

The company JGY works at is an up and coming marketing company with no relation to the big families: Jins, Wens (run by Wen qing now), Jiang, Nies or Lans. The CEO plans on handing him the company after retirement in a few years.

Since this is modern au where nepotism and filial piety isn't as concrete and social media exist with therapy available, JGY isn't big on gaining his father's attention. He remains and prefers to be estranged from his father, and refuses to take on any Jin project since he's all too aware of their shady business through MXY.

JGY is the oldest of the four. SMS is the second by a few months. XY the third by a year, and MXY is the youngest by three years.

XY and JGY are childhood friends and neighbors who grew up in the slums. JGY was able to get into a wealthy private academy through his grades (since public school is a thing) while XY dropped out of middle school and worked odd jobs.

XY became an orphan when he was 8 because of police brutality. He was taken in by JGY's mother when JGY asked her to. Sisi is around to help pay the bills and is the one to keep XY on the straight and narrow to attend beauty school like her once he was of age.

Meng Shi is alive since medicine has improved, and JGY was able to work off her debt once he entered the work force.

Meng Shi does want JGY to be recognized by his father, but she doesn't force it, especially when JGY tried to talk her out of it. She currently works with Sisi at their beauty salon.

JGY met SMS at the private academy in the same grade, and the two became close friends after being paired up for gym.

MXY is from an upper class family, but like in ancient times, is treated poorly by the main family for being the grandson of an affair between the master and servant.

He meets JGY and SMS at the same private academy. SMS came to his rescue when he was being bullied, which he's done for any other kid in the school as if he was a hall monitor. This one was different since JGY and him were brothers, so MXY clung onto them to keep the bullies away.

XY would tease MXY when they were younger, but MXY didn't mind since XY's own was harmless compared to the hostility he faces from the main family and classmates.

Unlike JGY with Meng Shi, MXY is actually not close to his mother at all like many kids with mothers who were more concerned with image than actual happiness. He still sends her money and gifts weekly, but doesn't see her in person unless she requests for him to make a public appearance. He forces himself to for the sake of her health since she would become hospitalize if he doesn't try to see his father when possible. His mother would gloat about her son's freelance work for important companies, which is worth speaking of since despite being a shut in, MXY's tech work is no joke.

If MXY didn't meet with JGY, he would've worked for his father after obtaining a degree in computer science because his mother told him so. But since he did, he avoids his father, cuts off all connections with the main family, and is living a happy life with his new family.

Since all three have jobs except for SMS, they split their spending this way: JGY's money goes into mortgages, daily necessities like food, and bills because of his job is stable, which is why he is the declared breadwinner. MXY's money goes into buying new tools or appliances, especially the newest versions, and any possible home repairs. XY's money goes into home decor and vacation trips since he's always the one to decide where they go. SMS is the one to directly handle all finances since he's the househusband.

XY makes them go to Anime con in cosplay EVERY YEAR. It doesn't matter what is happening in any of their lives. THEY HAVE TO GO. So JGY always makes sure to always mark that week free and get all his work done. MXY books the business class plane tickets with the first class hotel rooms. SMS prepares the luggage so that absolutely nothing is forgotten. XY is the one in charge of preparing their costumes, and they wear different cosplay outfits for all four days to make the most of it.

MXY loves birds and absolutely hates cats. He pretends to be allergic to cats, so as to avoid them. For birds though, he has the backyard of the house become a bird utopia filled with bird baths, feeders, homes, and plenty of bird first aid kits. He also doesn't eat chicken but doesn't mind it if others do. If he does eat chicken by accident, he bows to his bird utopia for forgiveness since he doesn't like wasting food.

For his drawings, MXY would usually look up photo references, but when he is unable to find the correct angle or lighting, he would have the three help him by modeling. And since they don't have any female friends besides JGY's friendship with Yanli, they have fake boobs and vagina underwear. JGY is unfortunately the main victim to wear these things. But MXY has them do it in a secure location, always makes sure to photoshop his face out of it, destroy the original, and then treat him to whatever he's in the mood for.

When JC discovers the vagina underwear, JGY threatens to murder him if he ever speaks of it to anyone else. And JC doesn't think that he's kidding that even when completely drunk out of his mind with Wei Wuxian and his mouth is about to speak of it, he remembers the threat and shuts up immediately.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

[wanna-do-bad-things]

Expecting.

Summary: Tired of dating for nothing, Henry laid everything out for her on that very first date. But when he gets everything he hoped for, there’s one thing left that he really wants.

Word count: 1683

Warnings: trying to get pregnant (no heartbreak tho, it just takes a lil time), fluffy baby daddy Henry

A/N: this was for @henrythickcavill, requested via my patreon. 

Forever tag list:  @luclittlepond |  @fcgrizi  | @henrythickcavill  |  @mitzwinchester  |  @mary-ann84 | @hell1129-blog  | @pensieve-foryour-thoughts  |  @agniavateira  |  @dancingwendigo  |  @living-in-the-darkness | @trippedmetaldetector |  @watermeloncavill  |   @justaboringadult   |   @madbaddic7ed   |   @ruthoakenshield  |  @omgkatinka   |   @iloveyouyen   |   @spursondele    |

________

Henry has been on cloud nine ever since she told him she was pregnant. Tired and mentally exhausted trying to find the right person, Henry had all but given up. It’s not that he was actively looking for a girlfriend, or wife in his case, but he did hope that when the right person came along, he’d just know. He’d feel it in his bones. He didn’t think it would happen like it does in the movies, where everything aligns, everything tastes better, music sounds better and he can breathe like he’s never breathed before. But he thought he’d feel something different.

She didn’t breeze into his life. She didn’t make him understand now why everything else hadn’t worked out. But what she did do was make him wonder how the hell he’d managed to feel so complete before when he felt bursting at the seams when he was around her. He’d laid it all on the table on their first date.

“I know this is a little full on, but I’m going to be honest with you. I can’t keep doing meaningless dates. If you’re not looking for something serious, something long term and possibly the end goal, then this date isn’t going to go far. You can leave, I’ll still pay for the bill, but I won’t hold it against you. I understand not everyone will be on the same page.”

Instead of pushing her chair back, grabbing her coat and bag and walking out of the restaurant, she pulled her chair a little closer, poured them both a drink and said, “so what colour theme are we having at the wedding and how many children are we having?”

She took an open interest in what he had to say, she challenged him on a few of his viewpoints just for a good conversation piece. They shared many of the same opinions and differed on a handful but nothing deal breaking or something that neither could get past. Henry understood that not everyone was the same and listening to her speak was amazing. He adored that they were on the same page when it came to values and their life.

As the weeks and months went on, he tried to trip her up. Tried to catch her out and see if she was just spoon feeding him everything he wanted to hear but no, it continued to flow almost perfectly. Henry took her on several vacations per year, she joined him on set, rode him when he needed his stress relieving and helped him with his lines. She was by no means a good actress, but she would try to put her feelings into it, try to give the script some sort of justice and helped Henry when he needed it.

They married three years later, with her joking that Henry would rush her down the aisle just so he could get straight to the baby making part of marriage. But it didn’t happen as quickly as either of them hoped. She came off her birth control and though they’d lose themselves within the sheets (or on the counter tops, table, against the hallway wall, the sofa, his gaming chair…just anywhere which could hold their weight,) as often as possible without wanting to take the fun out of sex and just have it for the sake of having a baby, pregnancy just wasn’t as easy to happen as they’d thought.

A year and half into their marriage, she’d began to draw up schedules, bought thermometers to check her temperature and downloaded several “trying to get pregnant” apps. She tracked her cycles, found the optimum times for having sex and had started to pitch it all to Henry when she realised she was two weeks late.

He’d sat there before her, waiting for her to reach the main part of her big presentation of why looking at their baby making schedule would be most effective when he’d watched the blood drain from her face and her scramble out of the room, roughly slamming the bathroom door closed and lock it before he’d been able to fully understand what had just happened. He’d heard things dropping onto the floor, things being torn open and as he’d stood nervously on the other side of the bathroom door, his hand on the wooden surface, listening carefully for anything which could give him an idea of what had happened, he’d finally heard the little sob that came from her.

“Are you ok?” He’d asked softly, not wanting to refer to her by any pet names, instead addressing her by her name. She hadn’t replied for a moment or two, just the sound of her soft cries filling the room in which he couldn’t access until she’d finally slid the lock open and he found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by torn open pregnancy test boxes and four tests sitting in front of her, letters boasting PREGNANT 4+ WEEKS on each of them.

Henry hadn’t wanted to go too crazy. He’d wanted this for too long and didn’t want to curse anything by purchasing anything too early. He’d gripped her hand, their fingers locked together, tears falling from his eyes as he’d pressed their hands to his lips as his eyes had remained fixated on the screen during her scan, watching as their two babies wriggled around for them. Watching as their tiny limbs stretched out and they flipped themselves around in their little bubble of comfort.

With each passing week, Henry ensured that he took care of any of the big jobs, needing her to take it as easily as possible. She hadn’t wanted to completely give up their workouts, and he’d make sure that he was there to observe each one, with a personalised plan specifically for pregnancy. They scoured the websites for the perfect nursery set up. With the babies genders remaining a secret, pots of neutral paint sits in the room. Dust sheets are down ready to catch any splatters of paint which hadn’t made it onto the walls. Tins of light colours are waiting to be applied and Henry has changed into his “DIY” clothes which are sweatpants and a loose, though still fitted for him, cotton tee shirt.

Most of the walls will be a pale grey to match the carpet, but there’ll be soft mint greens, duck egg blues, pale yellows scattered around the room in forms of cuddle bears, artwork and books that he wants to read to them. Two rocking chairs have been placed, and tested, and he already looks forward to sitting in them while reading to the two of them as they have their feed, much like he’s already done with her sitting beside him, their joined hands pressed to her large bump as he’d read some of his favourite childhood stories to them so that they would already recognise his voice. She’s due in one months’ time, and only now does he feel confident enough to begin to paint and assemble everything he’d bought.

She’d caught him in the middle of their living room two months ago, the boxes emptied out and him checking every screw, every nut, bolt and piece against the assembly instructions to ensure that everything was there, fully prepared with the phone and laptop beside him to make all the forms of contact needed to get the right parts sent out. “I’m not leaving it until last minute to then find out something is missing, or wrong or damaged and it’s too late.”

He’s strolled around the house with the double pram, telling her he needed to break in the wheels. He’s practiced for what felt like hours closing the pram and re-opening it again. Getting it in and out of the large car which he bought for the babies in mind. He’s tested numerous ways of picking up the baby carriers and how to get them in and out of the car with ease. He’s completed a baby first aid course and made sure he’s bought enough things to baby proof the house.

“You have some explaining to do.” She says, waddling into the doorway of the nursery, holding up some of the baby outfits he’s purchased.

“Look at the little cape though.” He grins, putting down the paint roller and tray before he’s even applied the first stroke. He walks over to her, his hand instinctively going to her belly as the other touches the cape of the baby vest which reads “my daddy is superman.”

“And this?” She holds up a mini Chiefs kit.

“I don’t make the rules around here. It’s law that they should match their daddy.”

“But what if they choose to suppo-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Henry cuts her off with a wag of his finger, “we don’t have none of that negativity around here. Absolutely not.” It takes everything she can muster not to crack another smile and to try and keep her expression as neutral as possible but the stern look upon Henry’s face makes it more difficult to do so.

“You can’t wait for this, can you?” She asks him as she sinks down into her rocking chair and slowly goes back and forth, sighing contently to get the weight from her swelling ankles and sore feet.

“Lumberjack beard, bags under my eyes so big I could do a months shopping in them and endless stories of ‘so yeah, my kid pooped today’ conversations. I can’t wait.”

“No dad bod?” She questions.

“I’m a daddy now, and I’ve got a body.” You sure are daddy, she thinks. If she weren’t suffering from her aching hips, she’d be wanting to climb onto his lap and ride him. He looks far too good right now.

“Yeah you have, now let me see that body of yours get to work….on this room. Not on me.” She says, holding up her finger and lifting a leg up as though that could stop Henry from covering her body with his own, “you’ve done enough.”

“Well, you know what they say… it helps to speed things along…”

[mycatshuman]

Wrapped Up In A Romcom

Chapter 2: A Gay Spell

Warnings: I don think there are any, but let me know if I missed any

Pairings: Prinxiety

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Virgil stared at the man before him in disbelief. "Oh my god, this can't be happening!" Virgil exclaimed as he dropped to the ground and covered his ears. He stared at the ground as if it would give him answers. The mummy frowned at the man panicking before him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked. 

"No!" Virgil squeaked. "You were- you're a mummy! You're dead! You're supposed to be dead!"

 The mummy chuckled. "Ah yes. That, I'm sorry to have frightened you. I should probably explain." The mummy sat down facing Virgil who was barely keeping himself from having a complete mental breakdown. "My last wish was to come back to life when a handsome young fellow like yourself found me on the night of a full moon." 

Virgil blinked. "Magic isn't real."

The other laughed. "You're in denial. It's understandable. Especially after having seen my gorgeous face."

Virgil sputtered. "What!?!" He yelled. "No!" Was this thousand of years old mummy fucking flirting with him?!?!? "I-" Virgil ran his hands through his hair, his arms shaking as he tried to process everything. 

Roman, the mummy, if he could even be considered that anymore considering that he was brought back to life per the conditions of his spell, stared at the other for a moment before looking around his tomb. Not too bad. He turned back to the other male and noticed a light coming from a small stick on the floor. He gasped and reached forward to poke at the object. "It's like a mini torch!" He exclaimed. He gently picked it up and inspected it. "Where's the fire?" He moved to look into the lens of the flashlight only to yelp as he was blinded. 

Virgil's head jolted up to look at Roman. "Hey! Don't do that. You could blind yourself." Virgil reached forward and the other dropped it into his hand. 

"What is it?" Roman asked as he leaned forward a little to watch what Virgil did with it. 

"It's a flashlight. I guess it would be something like a torch except it takes these things called batteries that give it energy." 

"Where's the fire?" 

Virgil laughed breathlessly. I'm really sitting here talking to a mummy. He shook his head. "There is no fire, there's like this tiny bulb of glass in there and some other stuff that makes it light up. Those bulbs are called lightbulbs. We use them to light buildings at night." 

Roman stared at the object in the archeologist's hands with glittering eyes. Virgil looked up and froze. The ancient king before him looked absolutely enchanting as he looked upon the flashlight in awe. Virgil blinked rapidly as he shook the thoughts out of his head. Of course, more thoughts came in to replace those. Some slightly troubling thoughts. What now? How are we going to get out of here? What does Roman want to do? What about his things? All Virgil could do was ask, so that's what he did. "So...what do we do now?"

Roman looked up from the flashlight. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean like, what are you going to do now that you're alive again? The world is different from what it was back than. It's been thousands of years. And your stuff, I don't think you'd want to leave it behind. And how are we getting out of here?" 

Roman blinked. "You can't get out?" He cocked his head looking adorably confused. 

"No, I fell through the ceiling in the passageway." 

"Let us go look at the hole. Maybe there's something that can help us climb out." Roman held a hand out to Virgil. 

Virgil looked at the hand for a few moments before grabbing it and allowing the other to pull him to his feet. During the time he had explored the tomb and met Roman, Virgil had briefly forgotten about his injured ankle. But as he stood, the pain returned with a vengeance. He let out a yelp and nearly dropped to the floor. 

"Hey! Are you okay?" Roman asked as he leapt forward to catch Virgil. The mummy's arm wrapped around his waist and held him up as he leaned heavily on his right leg. After Roman helped him to lean back against the wall, he asked, "What happened?" 

Virgil winced. He looked down at his ankles. He hissed as he noticed the swelling had gotten worse. "My ankled," he began. "I think I sprained it when I fell through the hole." 

Roman kneeled before Virgil to get a closer look at the ankle. The archaeologist's slid down the wall as he held his ankle out at an odd angle. He leaned forward and untied his boot before yanking it off and letting out a sigh. "Sorry," he apologized. "I had to take it off, it was really hurting." 

"Are you going to be able to get out of here?" Roman asked. 

Virgil bit his lip. He was trying not to think about that. "I-" he focused on his ankle and gently poked at it and clenched his teeth. He let out a huff. "I don't know." He leaned forward and pulled off his pack and dropped it in his lap. "I'm going to wrap my ankle up and then we can try to climb out." 

Roman frowned. "Should you really be on that ankle?" 

Virgil grimaced as he pulled gauze out of his first aid kit. "Not really, but we don't really have much of a choice." He grabbed the ice pack from his kit and placed it on his ankle and then wrapped it up against his ankle with the gauze. He grabbed his boot and pulled it back on. "Alright, let's work on getting out of here." 

"Wait! Can I borrow the torch?" 

"The flashlight? Yeah." Virgil handed the light over to Roman slightly confused. The mummy took the light and left the burial chamber and entered the antechamber. Virgil limped behind him. 

"What are you doing?" 

Roman grabbed a deep basket and began filling it with jewelry and other items that could fit into the basket. "I'm just grabbing a few things that I want to keep." 

"Oh." 

Virgil watched as the other grabbed mostly jewelry. It amazed him that none of them broke when Roman picked them up. Maybe when the spell revived Roman, it returned all the items in his tomb to their former glory, as if they were just made moments ago. 

"Wait!" Virgil shouted as Roman went to grab his makeup. 

Roman paused and turned to the other. "What?" 

"I don't think you should take the makeup."  

A frown. "Why?"

"It might have stuff that can make you really sick. And we have better makeup now. All sorts of colors." 

Roman's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Well in that case! Let's go!" He raced off to the passageway with Virgil struggling to keep up. When he got to the hole he set his basket down and glanced up at the hole. Virgil leaned against the wall with a huff as his ankle throbbed. 

"I think-" Roman started. "-that I might have a ladder among my treasures." With that, he ran back to the antechamber. Virgil watched as most of the light disappeared from the room along with Roman. His anxious thoughts came rushing back as he stood waiting for Roman to get back. How am I going to explain this? Is anyone really going to believe I just happened to come across someone dressed like a mummy in the middle of the desert? 

"Found it!" Roman exclaimed as he ran back into the passageway holding the ladder in triumph. Virgil smiled softly. Gosh he's adorable.

Roman propped the ladder up against the wall opposite Virgil. "That should work." He quickly climbed up and disappeared over the edge. 

----------

Roman laughed. He couldn't believe it, he really was here. Thousands of years after his death having just been resurrected and saving an incredibly handsome man. He went to climb back down to grab his basket and help the other only to pause. Above him, the moon shone brightly illuminating the sands around him. He let out a gasp of awe. "Wow.." he was breathless. 

"Uh...King Roman are you alright?"  

The mummy whirled around to find the archeologist behind him with his basket. 

Roman let out a yelp and rushed forward to take the basket. "You shouldn't have done that! I was going to go back down to get it." He led the other away from the hole and towards more solid ground. 

Virgil limped along as fast as he could before stumbling. "Ouch!" 

"I'm sorry!" Roman exclaimed and helped Virgil to sit up. 

Virgil hissed as he held his ankle. "It's okay. We should hurry. I'm not sure how the others will take this." 

"Others?" Roman asked as he cocked his head like an adorable puppy. 

"Yeah, I'm an archaeologist. We dig for artifacts and stuff." 

"What are artifacts?"

"They're like really old objects? So things you used when you were alive, likes plates and stuff. We also look for ancient places and tombs." 

"Is that how you found my tomb?" 

Virgil shook his head. "No, I was going for a walk to make myself sleepy but I ended up falling through the ceiling of your tomb."

Roman hummed, thoughtful. "What kind of find would my tomb be?" 

Virgil let out a breathless laugh. "It would be a huge find! A mostly intact tomb practically untouched since it's owner had been sealed inside is a huge deal. You should have seen what happened when they found Tutankhamun's tomb. He is incredibly famous." 

"Famous!" Roman's eyes glittered brightly. "I could be famous!"

Virgil winced. "I don't think it's a good idea to tell the world that you're a mummy come back to life. They might freak out. Governments would want to do tests on you and who knows that else would happen." Roman's nose wrinkled in disgust. "I mean, if your tomb is found, your name could become famous." 

"Why wouldn't it be found?" 

Virgil shrugged. "If you don't want it to be found I could help you try to hide it." 

Roman hesitated for a moment. "Would...would you like to discover it?" 

Virgil paused. "What?" He stayed silent for a few moments. "How?" 

"Well, we go back and you tell the others about the tomb you found." 

Virgil winced. "I-I don't know. We'd have to get you into some modern clothes and-" he paused and looked at Roman's basket. "Hide your stuff and- oh my god, all those things in your tomb look brand new! How the hell would I explain that?" 

Roman winced. "Okay. Maybe we should just get you back and off that ankle." 

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, that-that sounds good." He pushed himself up onto his knees and tried to pull himself up onto feet without putting too much weight on his left ankle. 

"Here, let me help you." Roman pushed his basket to the crook of his arm and wrapped an arm around the other's waist and allowed him to support the others left side. "Alright now, let's go." 

Slowly, the pair traversed through the desert as the moon lowered lazily, a sign of the morning creeping ever closer. "I don't think you ever gave me your name," Roman commented after a long stretch of silence. 

Virgil stumbled slightly in his walking. He blinked. "Oh." He paused as he tried to go over his memories of the last hour. "I guess I haven't." 

"I think it would only be fair that you share your name considering you already know mine."

Virgil laughed. "Yeah, uh…" of course he was nervous. His name was a bit of an odd one after all but Roman grew up in a time when people had names like Tutankhamun and Cleopatra and Ramses. So, maybe it wouldn't be that bad. "Its Virgil."

He drew out Virgil's name. "Vir-gil," Roman was quiet for a few moments before he smiled. "I like it." Virgil returned the smile. Then they continued on their way back to Virgil's camp. He was just a little nervous to think of what his boss would think. 

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[midweekblues]

The Terror, Géricault and a bit of Julian Barnes: a rant

Part 2 /?

Hello, it's me again! With more random data about a certain 19th century nautical tragedy! Come for the trivia, stay for the cannibalism!

I dunno, man, I just dig these stories. Which is weird, having worked and lived at sea, but whatever. The Terror connects to a very primal part of my brain, the same part that buzzes when I read about the wreck of the Essex, the Donner Party, Scott's final expedition or the Edmund Fitzgerald. There's a theme going on here. So back to the wreck it is!

On the first part of Chapter 5 of A History of the world in 10 1/2 chapters, Julian Barnes gives us a summary of the ordeal on board the Medusa. To summarize even more:

- French frigate Medusa struck a reef off the coast of Senegal in 1816.

- Not everyone could fit into the boats, so a raft was built. 17 people decided to stay on board the half-sunk frigate, rather than brave the ocean on that construction.

- The raft was so overcrowded that it was actually underwater in the beginning. To lighten the load so it wouldn't sink completely, they had to discard most of the food brought on board, and all of their water, leaving only wine to drink. Most of their food (mainly flour and biscuits) was at some point submerged and thus ruined by the saltwater. .

So all our supplies are either spoiled or will make us prone to delirium?  

- The raft was expected to be towed by the boats, but during the first day, "one by one, whether for reason or self-interest, incompetence, misfortune or seeming necessitty, all the tow-lines were cast aside", and so the raft was left adrift.

- On the second day, three men gave up and, "convinced that there was no escape from death, bade farewell to their companions and willingly embraced the sea".

- On the second night, there was not one but two mutinies on the raft. After the struggle, 60 remained on board.

- On the third day, they started eating some of the dead.

- After the third night, 12 more people had died. 11 of them were cast into the sea, but one body was kept on board, "reserved against their hunger".

- On the fourth night, yet another mutiny. After all the violence, a total of 30 survivors remained on the raft.

- On the seventh day, two soldiers were caught stealing wine from one of the remaining caskets. They were executed by throwing them to the sea. 

-That left 27 survivors, only 15 of them healthy enough to survive more than a few days. Their resources were extremely limited, with less than a cask of wine for drinking, and only human flesh for food. "To put the sick on half allowance was but to kill them by degrees. And thus, after a debate in which the most dreadful despair presided, it was agreed among the fifteen healthy persons that their sick comrades must, for the common good of those who might yet survive, be cast into the sea", Barnes tells us. "The healthy were separated from the unhealthy like the clean from the unclean".

There’s been a vote, Edward

- After that, the survivors decided to cast all their arms into the sea, except one sabre, "lest some rope or wood might need cutting".   Fun fact: the equipment of modern lifeboats includes not only food, water and a first aid kit, but also 1 (one) boat axe. And the reason for this is exactly the same: just in case some rope or plastic/fiberglass might need cutting . 

(My face during that particular safety training)

- And then

wait for it

a white butterfly showed up.

Now of course, that would be a good sign, right? Not because it works great as a symbol on an artistic level (looking at you, Peter Jackson), but in this case it does work on a logical level: How far away can a freaking butterfly fly? It must mean that land is near, right? Just like, dunno, same way that an arctic bird, preying mainly on fish, wouldn't stray too far away from open water, so it must mean there are leads relatively nearby, right?

Right? :____(

The survivors of the Medusa did not spot land anywhere. And our Cold Boys didn't find any leads. Life is a bitch like that sometimes. Géricault could have chosen to depict this moment in his painting, but he didn't. "First, it wouldn't look like a true event, even though it was," says Barnes. As viewers, we know this. We are ready to accept a white butterfly showing up somewhere in the Misty Mountains over Khazad-dûm to save our favorite wizard, but on a real story, a real tragedy, it wouldn't work, it would be too on-the-nose. And so the butterfly and the bird both fly away, and nothing changes, and the tragedy goes on.

- On day 10, eight of the survivors of the Medusa, convinced that land must be within reach, built another, smaller raft, from pieces of the first one, upon which to escape. But as soon as they tried it, they realised it was too frail, and gave up on the plan.

- On day 13, they sighted the Argus. This is the moment that Géricault depicts, when they first spot a ship on the horizon.

See it there? Just look where all the guys are looking (well, not all of them, but more on that later)

Yep, that's a ship, that tiny little thing on the horizon, against the rosy sky (is it dawn, or dusk, by the way? What do you guys think?), not bigger than a butterfly. Pretty impressive to have the whole composition of this massive painting, and the attention of everyone depicted, gravitate away from the viewer. Literally no one in this painting gives a flying fuck about the viewer because their eyes are fixated on their only hope, a ship that looks like it might just disappear at any moment...

Which is exactly what it did.

My dudes, this painting, and the story behind it, is peak Romanticism. The drama.

The Argus was visible for about a half hour. It gave no sign of having spotted the raft. And then it disappeared.

Ok but wait a minute, so didn't they get rescued? Well yes they did. That's how we know what happened.

The survivors watched the ship disappear, fell into despair and decided, like many of us do on one of those days, that a nap might help. So they "rigged a piece of cloth as a shelter from the sun, and lay down beneath it"

And then a couple hour later, one of them went to the front of the raft, out of the canvas, and saw the Argus half a league away (that's less than 3 km), "carrying a full press of sail, and bearing down upon them".

If this wasn’t real, we’d call it lazy writing. I mean, typical cliffhanger, our hero is gonna die, all hope is lost, finish episode there. And then next week, boom, of course the hero is saved within the first five minutes. Ugh. But life is badly written like that sometimes.

And so they were saved. Well, five of them died in the days after their rescue. Which leaves us with a total of 10 survivors from the Raft. 

Géricault read the account from Savigny and Corréard sometime in the winter 1817-1818. The painting was finished in July 1819. And sometime in 1820, Captain Crozier saw it in London, while he was on leave before joining Parry on an Arctic expedition in 1821.

And this is getting long, so I'm gonna leave it here for now. Next part will be about the parallels I see between the actual painting and the show.  If you made it all the way here: Thanks for reading! 

(here’s part 1 and part 3 )