#i do technically have sleep aids they just make me feel like shit but my psychiatrist won’t listen to me when I asked to go off them

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Izuku: I have officially been awake for 25 hours, and I have come to an epiphany

Tsu; that you need sleep?

Uraraka: that you need to go to bed?

Izuku: no?

Uraraka: bestie

Izuku: that if pencils had eyes, we’d call them, “peyencils”

Tsu: I think maybe you should talk to physician or psychiatrist about a sleep aid

Izuku: oh

[crippleprophet]

hi i was wondering if you or any of your followers had tips for dealing with chronic muscle pain (specifically hip and knee).

nothing i’ve tried has seemed to help (pt, otc pain meds, ice, heat, rest, acupuncture, cbd lotion, epson salt baths, stretching). and i’ve peen told that the only pain meds that would help would be narcotics (which i can’t take due to family).

also everybody has seemed to circle back to “it’s because of your mental health that everything is shit”. and doctors refuse to do any tests past moving my legs around and poking at them.

so i will try almost anything. thank you

i’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, i have chronic muscle pain & i know it can easily be so debilitating. regardless of whether there’s a relationship with stress or whatever, your physical symptoms should still be fucking treated! the abject cruelty of not managing your pain aside, it’s almost like it’s harder to handle mental experiences when you’re in pain all the time… you don’t deserve this bullshit & i’m really sorry 🖤

i am suspicious of your being told that only narcotics would help tbh — i don’t doubt that many folks need narcotics to effectively treat their pain, & opioids have definitely been the most effective treatment for me when i have access to them (although more for nerve stuff than muscle) but there are definitely medications you haven’t been offered yet that might be helpful.

idk if you suspect that your muscle pain may be related to chronic illness but my muscle pain (including what was dismissed as untreatable fibromyalgia symptoms) improved dramatically when i got on an immunosuppressant (hydroxychloroquine in my case). if you haven’t gotten a basic rheumatology blood panel done by your GP it could be worth a shot as my elevated inflammatory markers led to that prescription even though i’m definitely underdiagnosed.

i’m also like, really pissed nobody’s given you a muscle relaxer jesus christ. i’m on 4mg tizanidine from my PCP & it’s been immensely helpful for my muscle pain, i choose to take it probably once a week because it’s more effective at knocking me out all night that way lol but i also use it as a rescue medication when i’m having severe cramps. really helpful to just get a fucking break & some decent sleep every so often. in that thread i’m planning to ask about starting prazosin at my next appointment, it’s prescribed for nightmares (which i def have lol) but can prompt a certain level of muscle relaxation which is part of how it helps with sleep

idk if this is an option for you due to family etc but delta8 (weed equivalent that’s technically legal in the US) has been vital for managing my own pain. expensive as shit but so it goes.

idk if you already use a mobility aid or if that’s an option for you but it could be worth looking into! redirecting some of the force applied to your muscles might make things like walking easier or could help with balance if you experience sudden weakness / cramps.

super depends on your situation but it could be worth paying attention to your feet as well, getting plantar fasciitis house shoes vastly improved my knee-hip-back pain, knees in particular. mine was more joint related than muscular but from studying biomechanics it’s all interrelated & from my perspective anything that helps may make it a bit easier to keep going until you find a better long-term solution. so even if it doesn’t seem related to your pain if there’s anything that might make your life easier right now i encourage you to consider it!

other folks feel free to respond with things that have been effective for you! i really hope you find some solutions that make things more bearable for you 💓💓

[cy-cyborg]

Hello! First, I just wanted to say I love your blog so much!! It's been very insightful for me (an abled bodied person) to learn about amputees and physical disabilities 🥰🥰🥰

I've been in the early stages of planning my novel and was planning on using cyborgs as a big part of the story. The more I thought about the robot limbs, surgeries, living circumstances, and so on, I realized they parallel so much of what irl people today go through. Which is why your blog is so great! I really hope I can capture a lot of the nuance writing characters because I'm already so invested into their lives.

As for my question (sorry if it's been asked before...) but do people with leg prosthetics use wheel chairs after they relearned how to walk? If so, is it an occasional thing? Hopefully, my question makes sense.

Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it! That's actually part of the reason why I use "cyborg" in my name - well the main reason was because of a joke but I kept it because it works as a parallel lol.

As for your question, absolutely! It's most common in double leg amputees, but I know of a few single leg amps who also use wheelchairs too. the reason why is that prosthetics aren't a magic cure-all like a lot of folks think they are and they do come with downsides. The more leg you lost, the bigger those downsides tend to be. For some people, those downsides are just too much, or they just don't want to deal with it, so they use other mobility aids like wheelchairs (lots of single leg amputees also use crutches too), even if a prosthetic technically seems to work fine for them

For me personally, I have a chronic illness. I don't know what it is but I know one of the effects is that I have very limited energy. Putting on my prosthetics (one above knee, one below knee) takes a lot of time and energy, and i'm usually exhausted by the time i even get it on, so it's just not worth it for me unless it's something really important/I know is going to be inaccessible for my wheelchair (and even then I usually just won't go lol). Even before my chronic illness manifested though, when I used my legs a lot more than I do now and would have very little issues with them at all, I still sometimes used my wheelchair because I have shit time management skills and just didn't leave myself enough time in the morning to get ready lol. My wheelchair was faster so I'd just take that to work/uni/school instead. Also if I just wasn't feeling good, didn't sleep well the night before or a host of other reasons that would leave me with just a little less energy than usual, id sometimes decide to just use my wheelchair instead to make things a bit easier on myself.

I also had a mate who was a single leg, above knee amputee. I think I saw him wear his leg like... twice? in the 5+ years I knew him. He was really good and confident on it, and had no real issues with using it, but when I asked why never wore it, he said he just didn't like how the socket felt. It, and I quote "comes up too high, I don't like how close it is to my junk". Which honestly, is fair lol.

Prosthetics can also be really hard on people's remaining joints, especially the hips, so they get harder to use as you get older too, which is another common reason for people to learn to use them, and then decide later it's not for them.

There's a lot of reasons, but a lot of the time it just boils down to they weren't the right tool for that person. Sometimes that can for big reasons, sometimes it can be for something really minor. It just depends on the person and their needs and wants.

[writingismyescapefromreality]

random excerpt of a jegulus Spiderman!AU wip

This has been sitting as a draft since October. Do with it what you will. 

Quick note: James technically isn’t mentioned because Regulus doesn’t know that he is spider-man - so when Regulus says Spidey, it’s actually James. (If that wasn’t already clear)

Regulus is in a foul mood as he sits at his desk, staring at his laptop. His mother’s words are playing over and over in his head. He hates how much she affects him. Hates how Sirius can walk away from their parents’ expectations while he is stuck drowning in them.

He slams his laptop shut and drops his head into his hands. He should go to bed. He should go to sleep. But he knows as soon as he closes his eyes, every self-deprecating thought he’s ever had will become lucid.

In his anxious spiral, he almost misses the small tapping sound the echoes through his room. As looks around, he catches the familiar sight of red and blue, crouching outside his window.

Spidey.

Regulus almost smiles in surprise until he sees the gashes on his chest and the sickly blood that covers most of his front.

He rushes over to the window to open it. “What happened to you?” He asks, as he practically drags Spidey into his room.

“Oh, you know, just a little fight.” Spidey rasps, clearly trying to make light of the situation.

“Little? You’re bleeding out.”

“Hey, you should see the other guy.” The joke lands terribly, as the hero practically collapses on the floor.

“Of course, you’re trying to joke while you’re dying.” Regulus says, quite distressed and unsure of what to do.

“I’m not dying. I just need a little first aid.”

“A little first aid? Your chest has practically been ripped open! You should be in hospital.”

“No!” Spidey nearly shouts, causing Regulus to cover his mouth. The last thing he needs if for Sirius to come into his room. Spidey pushes his hand away and begins to speak much quieter, “I’m Spider-Man. I can’t exactly just walk into a hospital.”

“You can if you’re dying!” Regulus whisper-yells.

“Again, I’m not dying, just severely maimed. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Regulus studies him for a moment. It’s clear by Spidey’s words and the way he’s made himself quite comfortable on his floor, that it’s going to be up to Regulus to fix this. He sighs in defeat.

“Wait here.” He tells him.

He peaks his head out the door to make sure his brother isn’t hanging about. He can hear the soft sounds of rock coming from the room down the hall.

Good. Sirius won’t be able to hear them.

He manages to find a first-aid kit in the bottom drawer of the bathroom and thanks the universe for those first-aid classes he took a few years back.

When he makes his way back into his room, locking it behind him, he sees that Spidey has propped himself against the wall by his window, with the top half of his suit pooled at his waist.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Regulus mutters to himself, crouching down beside the hero.

“You know, I feel like you should work on your bedside manner.” Spidey jokes. “I’m not feeling very cared for.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that my services aren’t up to your taste.” Regulus snaps. “Next time you can find someone else’s carpet to bleed out on.”

Spidey looks down at the blood he’s dripped onto the carpet. “Shit sorry – I will definitely clean that for you.”

Regulus rolls his eyes as he begins to pour some disinfectant on a cloth. “Don’t worry about it, Spidey. Now watch out, this is going to sting.”

Spidey hisses slightly as he begins to gently wipe his gashes with the disinfectant. “Does it make me a wimp if I feel like this hurt more than when I actually got ripped apart?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Spidey laughs.

It’s silent after that. Regulus quietly wipes away the blood, his focus entirely on the task at hand. Not on the fact that he’s super close to Spidey and he can see his chest up close.

There’s a moment where Regulus realises that there’s a small gash going up Spidey’s jaw. He can’t really get to it without moving the mask out of the way. His hand gently brushes it, bringing it to Spidey’s attention.

“I-I can’t clean this one with the mask in the way.” Regulus stammers.

“Oh.” Spidey mutters, clearly unsure of how to proceed. There’s a moment where they’re staring at each other – at stalemate almost. Regulus suddenly has an idea.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers.

“Always.” Spidey whispers back.

He moves his hands to the bottom of the mask and slowly begins to lift. Spidey grabs his wrist in warning.

“I won’t.” Regulus insists.

He continues to lift the mask until it rests just above Spidey’s lips. It leaves his jaw free to treat but not enough for Regulus to see his whole face. The tension in the room is palpable and Regulus can’t get over how something so innocent in nature feels so intimate.

He pushes through the unease and goes on to treat the scratch on Spidey’s jaw. He’s so close that he catches the moment that the hero’s breath catches, and it does nothing to help the intense hammering of Regulus’ heart against his ribs.

As he leans to look closer at Spidey’s neck, he notices a small group of moles just behind his ear. Weirdly, Regulus has the urge to trace them. He shakes himself out of the thought.

“You’re probably going to need stitches,” he says, trying to fill silence while refusing to look into his eyes.

“Can you do that?” Spidey asks, breathlessly.

“Actually yeah.” Regulus laughs softly. “I had to do them on my brother once.”

“That’s quite impressive.”

“I guess.” Regulus shrugs, grabbing some iodine powder. “But don’t expect them to be amazing, I’m only capable of the basic practice.”

Regulus is gently holding his jaw when Spidey whispers, “I think you’re amazing at anything you do.”

Regulus pauses and looks at Spidey’s ‘eyes’ for the first time since he lifted his mask. This is a moment. He can feel it. He’s sure of it.

Without thinking about it, his eyes cast down to Spidey’s lips. It’s weird seeing something he’s only ever imagined in his head. His lips are somehow both nothing like and exactly like what he had been picturing in his head.

Instinctively, he begins to lean in.

This is it.

They’re so close. Regulus only needs to lean in just less than an inch more and they would be kissing.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Hey Reggie, I need to borrow your- Why is your door locked?!

The two rip away from each other.

Fucking hell Sirius!

Regulus is sure his heart is about to burst out of his chest as he rushes over to the door, opening it slightly and sticking out his head.

“What Sirius?! Why do you need to bother me now?”

“I just need to borrow your phone charger.” Sirius explains, before squinting and examining Regulus. His face feels hot so he can only imagine how red he must be. “Why are you so red? Oh god – I didn’t interrupt you like…wanking, did I?”

Sirius looks slightly horrified but it’s nothing to how Regulus feels. “No! What the fuck! No! Just-” Regulus shuts the door quickly and grabs the charger that Sirius needs. “Here, take it! And go away!”

Regulus slams the door shut but Sirius can still be heard on the other side.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about Reggie. It’s perfectly natural to have urges.” His brother cackles, taking the piss.

“Fuck off Sirius!”

“I’ll leave that to you!”

Regulus leans his head against the door, listening for the click of Sirius’ door. Once he’s in the clear, he lets out a breath and lets his body fall back against the door.

“Talk about a moment killer.”

Regulus jumps, having forgotten that Spidey was waiting for him.

“Jesus Christ.” Regulus mutters, making his way back over to Spidey, who has pulled his mask back down. He refuses to look at his face as he sorts through the kit, for some needle and thread.

“Let’s get you stitched up so you can go. We’re lucky that was my brother and not my mother. She’d kill us both if she found you here.”

He knows Spidey wants to say something, wants to talk about what just happened between them but Regulus can’t. He can’t bring himself to admit that maybe he could have something he wanted.

So, he pushes through. Disinfects the needle, threads it, and tries to remember the steps of stitching wounds.

“This is going to hurt.”

“Can’t be worse than what I’ve already felt.”

Regulus gets to work.

Spidey is silent the entire time. No smart comments or jokes to make light of the situation. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Regulus needs to concentrate but he also feels like an anxious mess, and nothing calms him quite like Spidey’s voice.

“Okay, I’m finished.” His voice is hoarse, so he clears his throat. “You’re good to go.”

Spidey looks slightly dazed as he replies, “Right, yes of course.” Regulus stands and helps him up onto his feet. He watches as Spidey zips his suit back up (although the tears in the front make it look kind of pointless).

“Um, thank you I guess.” Spidey stammers. “As much I denied it, I probably would’ve died. Or at least passed out so, thanks for, you know, stopping that.”

“You’re welcome.” Regulus replies.

They stand there for a moment, both looking around awkwardly.

“Right,” Spidery breaks the silence. “I should go. Um I’ll see you around Reg.”

He’s halfway out of the window when Regulus stops him.

“Spidey?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you come here? Surely there were other places you could go.”

Spidey pauses, clearly contemplating his next moves. He eventually climbs back into the room.

“Well, I couldn’t go home and like I said before, I couldn’t go to a hospital. I was at a bit of a loss, and, in the moment, I thought of you.” He admits. “I mean, I always think of you.”

It’s silent for a moment until, quietly, Regulus asks, “You think about me?”

“Constantly,” Spidey breathes.

Regulus feels like he’s floating. Like he’s left his body because he can’t really believe that what is happening isn’t a dream.

He on autopilot as he moves. He steps forward and begins to lift Spidey’s mask, just like he did before. Spidey doesn’t stop him this time. He leaves it halfway.

There’s a moment where they both stand there, both scared to move and break the delicate relationship between them.

Fuck it.

Regulus thinks as he moves closer and presses his lips against Spidey’s. It soft and barely there, just a press of their lips against each other. Regulus pulls away, eyes closed, too scared to see what’s in front of him.

“Fuck Reg, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Spidey crashes his lips back against his and its nothing like their first kiss. This is stronger. This is nothing like Regulus has ever experienced before. Spidey’s mouth moves in sync with his own and nothing feels real. It’s a dream that Regulus never wants to be woken up from.

Unsurprisingly, it’s not perfect. Their teeth clash and their noses push against one another in an awkward way. But it feels…right.

Spidey eventually pulls away and Regulus lets out a small whine at the sudden loss of contact between them. Their foreheads rest against one another as they catch their breath.  

“You kiss all your nurses like that, Spidey?” Regulus teases, breaking the silence.

“Only the ones I really like.” Spidey answers. “I take back what I said about your bedside manner. It’s fantastic.”

Regulus laughs, mainly because he can’t believe this is what his life has become. There is blood all over his hands and carpet, he’s performed a medical procedure, and he’s just kissed New York’s resident superhero. Nothing seems real.

It feels like they’ve been standing in each other’s arms for years when Spidey finally speaks again.

“I should go.” He whispers.

“I know.” Regulus says.

Neither of them moves.

“I’ll see you again, right?” Regulus asks because he can’t help himself. “You’re not going to disappear on me?”

“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.” Spidey grins before giving Regulus another kiss. It’s not as long but it is just as intense as the last. “I really do have to go now though.”

“Go on then, bug-boy. You need to rest anyway; those stitches are going to hurt like hell tomorrow.”

Spidey opens the window and steps onto the ledge.

“I’ll admit I’m not looking forward to that.” He grimaces. “Although I suppose I can always come to you to kiss it better.”

Regulus flushes and rolls his eyes. “Go home Spidey.”

Spidey grins and pulls his mask back down. “See you around, Reg.”

Regulus watches as Spidey swings away, surprisingly graceful for someone who only minutes ago was close to bleeding out. Although, Regulus concedes that Spidey isn’t exactly a normal person.

He is in a stupor as he walks over to his bed and collapses. He can barely fight the grin on his face as he replays the kisses over and over in his mind.

As he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he doesn’t think about his mother and her high expectations, he doesn’t think about Sirius and his disappointment, he doesn’t think about his dying father.

Instead, he thinks about how Spidey’s lips taste like freedom.

[daisyyy-do]

Get To Know Me - Redacted Listener Edition

Thank you so much @whatalovelymae for tagging me in this <3! I know it’s super late but I’m only alive on here every so often (╥_╥)

——————————————————————————

Favourite Listener Character? Angel and Sweetheart

One part of me loves Angel because I can see myself in them, but the other part just thinks that they’re somebody that I’d genuinely enjoy being friends with not just to get with their man. David move over if you won’t play minecraft with your mate; I will. Extra added bonus is sweetheart because hello do they not just radiate ‘I am hot’ energy. Plus their mischievous side just makes the happy. I live for the fear they’ve instilled in Milo.

Listener Character I Relate The Most To? Angel

As previously mentioned, unbeknownst to myself, it’s 100% Angel. There’s multiple videos that I’ve kind of went ‘oh shit that’s me’ when Angel has said/done something. I often think about the ‘comforted after a hard day at work’ video and Angel’s reaction overall and I can’t help but just ahhh.

Favourite Listener Character To write/Read For? Sunshine

I absolutely LOVE sunshine’s character the recent videos are breaking my heart and the experiences they’ve been through, so writing about them is the most enjoyable. As in reading, I’m a sucker for found family, so any fics which include the wolf pack, the Solaire Clan, or the DAMN bois immediately have my heart in a tight grip.

I Want Their Life: Freelancer

You really think I wouldn’t pick four people who turned into a found family and care for each other immensely and would die for each other? AH. I’m so immensely jealous of the bond Freelancer has with the boys and what I would give to have it in my own life. My dream goal is to play smash with the bois and beat Damien just to see his expression slowly turn into anger. I’m incredibly competitive myself so losing is not an option.

I Have Their Life: ?

Dude I have no idea. Luckily it’s not like cuties atm that’s a bonus. Everyone’s in a relationship man and I cannot relate because I don’t want to be in a relationship and most of their videos revolve around their relationships 🧍‍♀️. I guess you could say the DAMN crew as a whole because we’ve both got exams going on in our lives atm. We’re suffering together.

I Want Their Powers: I’m breaking the script

Gravitation. You do not understand how badly I want this ability. If you think about it, technically you have telekinesis and the ability to fly. Also black holes hello? I could wipe my enemies out of existence? I’m joking, I have no enemies. It’s mainly the feeling of being weightless. Because yeah okay you can fly, but flying isn’t being weightless you’re still fighting against gravity, but remove that problem and you can literally float AHHHH. It sounds so peaceful. But if I HAD to choose a character it’s without a doubt sweethearts. I get to scare my friends for a living sign me up please.

Comfort Listener Character? SWEETHEART

Like I previously mentioned the MISCHIEF. They never fail to make me laugh, especially with the sleep aid. Their anxiety video also makes me feel extremely safe it’s such a warm video towards the end of it with the absolute care in Milo’s voice. Sweetheart is chaos and I love chaos.

——————————————————————————

It’s like a month later after when I was originally tagged in this but it’s fineee (thank you once again mae <3). This is rushed as hell I did it within the hour but it’s good enough.

All the accounts I previously wanted to tag have already done this (this is what I get for being late). SO, if you see this just do it and tag me I’d love to see ittt ✨.

If there are any spelling mistakes; it’s you not me this relationship can no longer go on 😔.

[criticalbread]

sup. so i was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome after having covid multiple times. at the moment something like half of all long covid sufferers also fit the diagnostic criteria for CFS. They're extremely similar, if not the same thing.

No one talks about CFS who doesn't have it or a loved one with it, and certainly the average person doesn't know what it actually looks like. What the quality of life is actually like. So let me tell you.

According to multiple studies, the quality of life of people with CFS is significantly lower than many of the well known and dreaded conditions like: MS, Parkinsons, diabetes, late stage cancer, you name it. According to these studies, people with CFS generally have a similar quality of life to someone with a late stage cancer during chemo treatment. Feelings of unwellness, sickness, fatigue, pain, sleep disturbances, neurological and cognitive deficits, etc. etc. but that's the baseline. It's been 3 years of this for me.

Another way I've seen it described in one of these studies based on self reported surveys across many chronic illnesses - people's numbers with CFS show we've got a similar quality of life to someone with untreated AIDS might expect around 4 months before death. This, based on thousands of surveys from thousands of people. These are ugly comparisons, meant to describe an ugly reality that is otherwise completely unknown by using comparison with what is known. We know AIDS entails terrible suffering. We know late stage cancer and the chemotherapy treatments for it entails terrible suffering. My mum went through her third cancer diagnosis and chemo treatment just over two years ago and in the end passed away from complications. I know and am not making light.

So, why use this horrible yardstick to measure?

I've had to teach my doctors about CFS. I've had to teach them the symptoms, send them research and current medication recogmmendations to symptoalleviatems even if we can't cure them because we don't know what CFS is. What's causing it, what's gone wrong, where to look - we don't fucking know. Most meds we've tried out haven't improved anything.

I have CFS as a diagnosis on file, but my doctor and I are working on the understanding that I only developed this after having COVID twice. By technicality, I could also have long covid on file, or have been given a long COVID diagnosis rather than CFS. Which one you get is based more on chance than anything - whichever one your doctor knows more about and thinks of first, that's usually what you get. But we don't know shit about fuck, babes. Not us, not 99% of doctors, not any of the health authorities who have been ignoring cfs as 'hysterical women' for decades whilst so many people had to live with it and the isolation and hopelessness it brings.

There are now millions of people with long covid in the USA alone. You DO NOT want this. Wash your hands, wear a mask, get boosters, avoid giant indoor or even outdoor crowds when you can.

if i got any of this information wrong - inevitable, pls link your data, me n my cog issues are laying down now ✌

(source)

[nikavit]

Surprise with fangs.

Part 1.

I heard floor squeaking, then someone putted his cold hand on my mouth, hushing in silence.. My bedroom is always completely dark so I could sleep, but now I was sorry about that with all my heart..

-Don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you..

Voice was low, deep and almost desperate.. Somehow I believed him.. As soon, as he let my mouth, I sit up in my bed turning on the nightligh..

Tall and thin man in his early 30-th was standing in the middle of my small bedroom.. His black clothes were ripped and pale face was covered with scratches and cuts.. His face expression was unreadable..

-Who are you, what are you doing here??

I was more confused, than scared.. Living on last floor was my apartment-studio's biggest advantage.. Now I realized, that even here is not safe enough..

-You don't need to know who I am.. Just let me stay here until next sunset.. I can't go out right now..

Saying that he leaned to the wall next to him.. I stand up, feeling something wrong.. My guest slowly slided down and I finally get to him, stretching my hand to hold him, but too late.. The guy sat on the floor, leaning back his head.. Few seconds I admired his face and jawline, before kneelingnext to him.. Who the hell is he??

-Hey, hey, stay with me..

I gently rubbed my knuckles to his sternum, trying to keep him conscious.. Stranger opened his cobalt-blue eyes..

-Tell me what's wrong with you or how to help..

He looked at me a long minute, than pull off his shirt, opening his chest covered with deep cuts.. Stabb wound on is left side, right under last rib was looking very bad and still massively bleeded..

I whimpered, closing my mouth with both hands..

-You need to go to hospital..

He shook his head, closing his eyes again..

I opened bedside table, taking fresh pillowcase, which I fold and push to his wound firmly..

Stranger moaned, grabbing my wrist with shaky hand.. I look at him and my eyes widened..

He had fangs.. Long and sharp.. And his eyes were now more black, than blue..

-Holly Saints!! Are you vampire, or this is kind of cosplay??

He grinned..

-How did you get inside?? I thought vampires can't enter the hous without permission..

He grinned again..

-This was my home for long years, so technically I don't need permission to be here..

-Ok.. But vampires are immortal, how did you get in this??

I waved my hand showing his tormented body..

-Those wounds are from silver blades, - he moaned in pain, again losing his conscious..

I rubbed his chest again, and stranger slowly opened his eyes.. His eyelids were fluttering from effort he putted in such simple action..

-Ok, suck it.. I know, you need this to recover..

I lean my head to side, opening carotid artery to his fangs..

-I.... I can't..

He sighed, still pushing his hand to the wound on his side..

-This shit is poisoning me.. I must cut-off infected tissues..

I shivered.. No way I'm going to help him in this..

-And there is no other way??

I ask hoping he knew another way..

-No.. Leave me like this.. Tomorrow I'll leave this place.. No consequences..

-Ok, it's clear.. What about you?? What will be than with you, if you are half alive now??

-I will die somewhere, where my ashes couldn't be found by my enemies.. By the way, if I don't make it till the next evening, just vacuum-clean the dust and send to this address..

He passed me piece of paper, which I torn and threw away..

-Tell me what to do.. No one's going to die today.. Especially in my home, your home.. Fuck.. Here.. No one's going die here..

I pull him up, which momentarily make him dizzy and I notice how's he holding himself from throwing out..

I help him to walk to my bed and lay down.. After pulling off his shoes I went to the bathroom and came back with first aid kit, which I bought moving here, but used only small plasters from there..

My guest watched at it and laughed..

-You don't have anything I need.. All I need now, is scalpel and stitching materials..

-No problem..

I nodd, carrying back everything I brought, then I search the cupboard in the kitchen and pull out my brothers old small briefcase, where he was keeping medical stuff, left from time, when he was student..

There were different scalpels and some needles with threads.. First one crushed in my hands, and I was upset, thinking, that it's may fault, that thread is ruined.. Then I found another needle with silk thread.. Perfect..

I bring that all to my guest, hopefully, that he won't ask me to assist him..

TBC..

Part 2 here..

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[charmingyong]

Noxious Cherry (1)

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: criminal!Taeyong x fem!reader

Warnings: psycho, deception, theft, shootings, swearing, car explosion

Word count: 2.7k

Plot: You found a pink haired man lying on the ground and decided to check up on him when you should have run away. 

A/N: I AM OBSESSED WITH TY’S GTA! This genre reminds me of @taeyongtime’s Pre: Ace of Fools so do check that out if wanting another psycho read.

Gif: mine

- ❀ -

Finally home time!

The feeling of settling into your car after the end of your night shift was a pleasant one. You relaxed your head against the headrest and let the exhaustion from having to stand hours preparing the endless coffee orders leave your body before starting your car. You drove down the empty streets, a few nonfunctioning streetlamps creating a dim lighting along the sidewalks. Mindlessly, you passed by a park where a dark figure laid still on the ground.

Reaching a red light of an intersection, you thought back to the thing you caught a glimpse of earlier and something itched in you to go back and check it out. When the lights turned green, you made a U-turn and found the figure still there, unmoving.

Walking closer to it, you realized it was a boy with pink hair, eyes closed looking unconscious, though his chest rhythmically rose up and down. You squinted to get a better look of his face under the low lighting and did not spot a single scratch on the skin to hint any signs of him being injured.

Is he okay? you thought. Should I wake him up?

Worried that he could have been bruised under his clothes, you called for him. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, his eyes fluttered open and his breath hitched upon seeing a beautiful face up close. You were relieved that he was alive, but grew uneasy when he merely stared at you, not responding back to you with words.

“Um, are you okay?” you asked again, hoping he would say something about why he was on the ground in the middle of the night.

He only groaned as he shifted his weight to sit upright, rolling his neck and shoulders in circles to alleviate the tensed muscles.

“Should I call the ambula-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off with a small glare. He couldn’t afford getting caught if he were taken to the hospital, especially when he didn’t even need to go there in the first place.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure what to do next. You didn’t want to be rude and leave him alone all of a sudden, but you really wanted to go home. Should you drop him home? Get a grip, Y/N! He was a stranger, and you couldn’t tell if he was safe enough to bring him inside your car. “But are you hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied. “Just take me home.”

Shit.

Looked like you were taking him into your car.

“Where do you live?” You hoped he didn’t live somewhere too far so you could get under the covers of your cozy blankets as soon as you could.

The boy cocked his head to the side and gazed at you in amusement. “Take me to your home.”

You were thankful it wasn’t summer just yet. Otherwise, mosquitoes would have entered your jaw-dropped mouth. Was he crazy? Why would anyone in their right mind ask to be taken to a complete stranger’s home? Especially one where you lived alone. “Why my home? Don’t you have one?”

He propped his upper body up with hands resting beside him, watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The boy was adamant and wouldn’t take no for a response, making you pray to the Lords that nothing bad would happen when taking home the pink haired whose name you learned was Taeyong.

-

Your keys repeatedly failed to connect with the lock of your house. It was hard to when Taeyong’s intense gaze was fixed on your side profile. “Sorry,” you nervously chuckled. “I’m really tired from work,” you tried reasoning.

After struggling for a while, he snatched the key from your grasp and unlocked the door, pushing it open and inviting himself in. You stay rooted by the entrance, shocked that Taeyong casually opened the door and simply walked in as if it were his house.

Taeyong looked around your place, interested to see the soft-hearted person you were with various photos of your loved ones hanging on the walls.

“Do you need the first aid kit?” you asked.

He touched himself in the stomach and hissed. “Yeah.”

You nodded and went to search for the kit in the bathroom. When out of his sight, Taeyong plopped down on the sofa, letting out a long exhale and half smiled. He found it new and amusing with someone being concerned for his well-being.

With the kit in your hand, you took a moment to calm down your racing heart. Taeyong was not letting you feel comfortable for a reason that you failed to decipher. You met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself that nothing bad should happen. How could a wounded boy harm a girl?

You walked back into the living room and were relieved to see Taeyong resting on the sofa with his eyes closed. If he wanted to harm you, then he wouldn’t be lounging around like that. “I brought it.”

He hummed and opened one eye. “You can leave it there and head for bed,” he said nodding towards the small table in front of him.

“Don’t you need any help though?” What if he had any wounds on his back that he couldn’t reach?

Taeyong clicked his tongue. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have a guest bedroom. You can sleep there,” you offered.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here.”

“But the sofa isn’t-”

“I’m fine.”  

You bit back your tongue, letting him decide on his own what was best for him. It was odd that he wouldn’t opt for a bed to let his body relax and heal faster. “Okay, I’ll bring you a pillow and blanket then.”

“I don’t need them. That throw will be fine.” He pointed at one draped over the armchair.

Were you being too pushy? Why was this guy refusing everything that you were kindly offering? “Okay… I’ll head up then. G’night.” With that, you hurriedly went up to your refuge and finally called it a night.

Once the coast was clear, Taeyong pulled off his denim jacket and shirt over his head, observing his skin.

Flawless skin.

Not a single wound spotted.

You’re a cute one, he thought and smirked to himself.

- ❀ -

You took Taeyong out for shopping the next day, as per his so-called request. It was more of a demand. You didn’t understand why he was staying at your place but decided to keep your mouth shut and hoped that he’d leave you soon.

While you wandered around the cosmetics section, Taeyong left your side, his eyes catching interest of the sparkling diamonds department.

“Hello, sir. What would you like to see?” the woman behind the counter asked sweetly.

Taeyong paid no mind looking at her and locked his gaze on a specific 2 carat round eternity engagement ring in 14k white gold. “How much is that?” he pointed at the ring enclosed in the display case.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars, sir.”

Taeyong let out a whistle and propped his elbow on the casing. He turned around to search for you, finding you try on a couple of samples on your skin, and his lips curled up when seeing you pleased with the products.

The man not being by your side gave you some time to calm your heart down. You didn’t know why you felt that way with Taeyong when he hadn’t done anything to harm you. Something warned you from the inside to not trust him, even though he hadn’t done anything to invade your privacy at home. You were glad that he chose to sleep downstairs and so a part of you grew fond for him despite the short time.

Then what was this feeling that you probably made a grave mistake for helping him out last night?

You put away the product testers and searched for Taeyong, spotting the pink one easily as he leisurely passed by two security guards and picked out a pistol from its holder without them knowing.

“What the…” you breathed out. What was this guy going to do with a gun?

Taeyong made his way over to the fire alarm system and pulled it down. A loud, 3-beep pattern resonated throughout the store and numerous customers panicked, dashing out the building while the guards tried to figure out what was going on. The boy walked back to the diamonds where the employee was still there, frantically locking everything up before leaving for safety.

“Give me the ring,” Taeyong ordered. His blank expression made the woman not take him seriously and ignored him. Just when she was about to leave the counter, Taeyong held up the gun at her forehead and repeated. “Give me or I’ll shoot you.”

“B-But th-there’s a fire!” she cried. She didn’t want to die from the fire, or from the gunshot, or from her boss that she gave one of the most expensive rings away for free.

“There’s no fire. Quit wasting time or I’ll shoot.”

The guards caught up on the situation. “Hey you! Put that gun down or I’ll shoot you!” one said, while the other informed the situation through his walkie talkie.

Taeyong grabbed the woman in the blink of an eye, holding her as a shield with the gun pressed against her temple. “If you come near me, she dies.”

The guards backed away and held their hands up. “Okay okay! Let her go, man.”

I will, but after I get my ring, he thought.

He pulled the worker behind the counter, keeping her in front of him, and ordered her again. She obeyed, the fear of having to die from his gun scariest than any other consequence she’d have to face later. “D-Do you want the r-ring casing?”

“Just the damn ring.”

She handed it over with shaky hands. He shoved it inside the pocket of his jeans and shot the two guards down. The woman screamed and he pushed her away.

“Chill. I won’t kill you unless you get in my way.”

He sprinted to your rooted spot where you silently watched the scene unfold. Taeyong pulled you out of your shock self when he grabbed your hand and darted for the exit, letting your feet automatically respond to his action.

“Pass me the car key,” he instructed.

You didn’t want to, not when he shot two people in front of your eyes. But you chose to trust him than get caught now that you were technically his partner in crime. You both rushed to your car with him diving into the driver’s seat while you in the passenger. The police sirens could be heard from a distance and Taeyong wasted no time and slammed on the accelerator without putting on his seatbelt.

He went over the speed limit, overtaking the slower cars in the lanes as he tried to widen the gap between him and the flashing red and blue lights. A red traffic light was fast approaching, and cars were lined up ahead. But the boy made no plans to pull the brakes.

“You need to slow down!” you screamed.

The pink haired peeked at the rearview mirror, spotting the cops not too far behind them.

“Taeyong, stop!” Right before he could touch the stopped vehicles, he swerved the car abruptly to the empty lanes.

The lanes for the opposite direction.

You pulled at your hair, close to losing your sanity. “Are you fucking trying to kill us?”

The cops took a while to decide on the next course of action before following suit. He smirked, pleased with himself. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m good at this.”

Traffic was ongoing perpendicular to your direction and you were horrified with what the psycho was planning to do next. Without slowing the speed, Taeyong sped through the intersection once spotting an opening. Cars screeched to a stop and honked at the maniac driver.

This was a nightmare.

The very nightmare that the pink haired found thrilling.

Once on a street clear of any other vehicles besides yours and the police, you shouted, “I’m feeling fucking sick!”

“Hang in there. The show’s almost over.”

Wait…

What?

He checked the rearview again and the spacing was perfect. There were only two cars after them, making it easy for his plan to work.

Taeyong slammed the brakes and turned the steering wheel all the way, spinning the car 360 degrees. You screamed and held onto the handle tightly, shutting your eyes.

“Hold the wheel,” he said.

“What?”

He grabbed your hand and placed it on the steering wheel. “Hold it,” he directed. After you did, Taeyong pushed your head below the windows, clear from his aim. He lowered the glass barriers and shot at an incoming auto, aiming perfectly at the one in front of the other which resulted it to swerve out of control. This caused the one behind it to collide and flip over onto its roof. And not too long after-

BAAM!

It exploded into flames, ending the chase.

-

Taeyong stepped out of your new car and you followed, slamming the door shut angrily. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Your eyes moisten from the intense anger that built up inside.

He rounded the vehicle and stopped in front of you, alarming you when he suddenly grabbed your hand.

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing?”

His hand dug in his pocket for the stolen ring and slid it onto your ring finger. “I got this for you,” he spoke quietly while admiring the beauty that rested on your hand.

Your rage died for a moment, puzzled that he’d do such a thing to get you a ring. “Why?” Tears fell from its place and you wailed. “Why did you do it?” You never asked for any of this, from the theft to the shootings, to him even changing your car at a dealership who he was well acquainted with.

Taeyong shrugged coolly as if it was no big deal. “Just felt like it. I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. Usually I steal cars, so be honoured that I stole a beauty like that for you.” He winked at you and walked inside your house.

You took a moment to scream your frustration out, almost kicking the car before deciding against it. Walking in, you found the boy sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed.

“If you wanted to get me it, then you should have paid for it like a normal person would!”

He peeked at you through one eye. “Do you know how much that’s worth?”

It was a no brainer that it was expensive. But exactly how much… “No.”

“Twenty-five grand.”

Talk about getting all the wind knocked out of your lungs. That was nearly how much you’d make in a year and you were not going to wear it.

Especially when it was involved in a criminal act.

You ripped it off your finger and chucked it at him. He swiftly caught it as if he expected that reaction from you.

“Get the fuck out of my house! And don’t you dare show me your face again!”

Taeyong slowly sauntered to you, a predatory look in his eyes. You backed away from him trying to keep a distance until your backside met the wall. He trapped you in his arms, resting his hands on either sides of your face and wore a smug smile. “I can. But what will happen to you?”

You blinked and attempted to gulp down the ball forming at the back of your throat. “W-What do you mean?”

He lifted one hand off and showed you the ring. “They’ll be looking for this and footage from the security cameras will show that there was a boy and a girl that left together with the ring.”

Oh crap.

“I’m an expert at running away without getting caught, sweetheart. But if you don’t want to get caught, then you’ll have to keep me around. I’ll make sure both of us will be safe.” Taeyong leaned close to your ear, whispering with a hot breath that sent a shiver down your spine, “It’s my specialty.”

[storiesbymads]

IT’S NOT LIVING (IF IT’S NOT WITH YOU) ( jj maybank . )

gif not mine

JJ shows up at Y/N’s doorstep after an incident with his dad.

warnings: physical abuse, blood, angst ig at some parts but mostly fluff

wc: 1.2k

JJ was leaned up against the railing of the Y/L/N family home as he slipped his phone out his pocket, sending you a text to let you know he was outside your front door. It wasn’t like he could just ring your doorbell at one o’clock in the morning. He just hoped you hadn’t chosen tonight to try and regulate your sleeping schedule. 

About a minute passed before the sound of the lock being undone and the creak of the old wooden door sounded. JJ felt his hands start to shake slightly. 

“JJ, baby, what happened?” you asked as soon as you saw that his eye was already swollen shut. His bottom lip was profusely bleeding out onto his t-shirt, which you already knew there would be a plethora of bruises underneath judging by the few you saw peeking out of his collar. 

“My dad…” he trailed off as you ushered him inside, shutting the door as quietly as possible. It seemed to be so much louder when you were sneaking JJ in than any other time of day. You attempted to lead him up the stairs to your bathroom but his very noticeable limp forced you to reevaluate. 

“Okay, new plan. Come with me to the kitchen and I’m going to go upstairs to get the first-aid kit,” you said before placing a kiss on his temple. It took a little bit longer than you thought it would to successfully get him situated at the island but you were able to get him to a stool with little-to-no noise on your part. You handed him a bottle of water from the fridge to drink while he waited on you. 

“I can’t stop sweating,” he said before sipping the ice cold liquid. You nodded, brushing the bangs off his forehead and pressing another kiss on his temple before making your way up the stairs to grab the aid kit. 

When you made your way back to him, the bottle was empty and JJ had his head resting  in his hands. You could tell he was crying before you even noticed the shaking in his shoulders. 

“Hey, baby,” you said, setting the first aid kit on the counter next to him and ushering for him to spin on his stool to face you. He quickly wiped away the tears with the back of his hand but a few still managed to fall. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“I ran into some complications with, uh,” he said. 

“It’s okay, take your time,” you said as you opened the kit to pull out all the necessary equipment to clean him up. You started with his eye, tilting his head back to drop a few eye drops into it. 

Once his head was level again, he said, “You know how my dad falls asleep during conversations.”

You nodded, handing him a washcloth you’d dampened upstairs to press onto his eye. 

“Well, for some reason, he picked today to be all pissy about you and the other pogues and fucking everything all because he was asleep when I told him I was leaving this morning. Usually he doesn’t fucking care about that so I didn’t think anything of it. But, then I got home…” he let out a shaky breath. “And he did all this shit.”

“Fuck him,” you sighed, applying a cotton ball covered in rubbing alcohol to the open wound on his lip. He winced at the contact. “Why did you even go back there, J? You know what he’s like when he’s drunk and he’s always drunk. And I know you think you’re sly but you need some imagination.”

“Imagination? What am I supposed to be imagining? I still technically live there and I know I can’t keep slumming it at John B’s every single night. If I knew what you’d do I would’ve gone to Kie’s,” his words stung but you tried to not let them get to you as you applied neosporin to his lip. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it. 

“J, you know that’s not what I meant. I just-” you placed a band-aid on the wound followed by a kiss on the band-aid. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered. The fabric of the band-aid warped as he spoke. 

“Don’t apologize, please. You did nothing wrong. It’s just that all I do is sit and think about you and hope to God that you’ll make it back to me at the end of the day.” You ran your fingers through his slightly sweaty locks as he placed the washcloth on the counter so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and press his face into your abdomen. 

“I love you so fucking much, you know that?” His voice was slightly muffled by your shirt but you could still easily understand what he said. 

“I love you, too, JJ,” you said. 

“No, Y/N,” he said, pulling back from you but still leaving his arms tightly wound about your hips. “I’m gonna marry you someday, baby. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and all I’m ever going to want. It’s not living if it’s not with you.”

“J-”

“Y/N, you’re the thing I’ve been chasing my whole life and I’m never letting you go.” You used your thumb to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall during his speech. You didn’t know if they were from the sudden outburst of emotion or the obvious pain he was still feeling. 

“I’m never letting you go, either, J,” you said. “Now, shirt off.”

“I don’t know if-”

“Not like that,” you let out a giggle. “I need to look at any bruising you might have, hot shot.”

He nodded, letting a giggle of his own out followed by a wince as he slipped the blood-stained fabric over his head with a little difficulty. You ran your fingers along the few scattered marks that lined his collar bones but other than that he, thankfully, was clear of any bruises. 

“Think you can make it up the stairs?” you asked, motioning that he could put his shirt back on to which he just shook his head and placed it on the counter with the washcloth. 

“I don’t know,” he said, remembering just how difficult it had been to make it up the few stairs leading to your front porch. 

“That’s okay. We can sleep on the couch tonight.” His arm moved to rest on your shoulder, using you as a crutch of some sort as you walked the short distance to the living room. You halfway dropped him onto the couch causing a groan to fall from his lips and a ‘sorry’ from yours. 

“What’re your parents going to say?”

“They’ll understand,” you said. “Or they won’t and they’ll kick me out and I’ll try to get a job in a bank to support us.”

He sat up for a second, allowing you to maneuver beneath him as best you could without hurting him any further before he laid back down to rest his head on your chest. “Us?”

“If I’m not living at home anymore, you sure as hell aren’t.” Your fingers moved to run through his hair once again. He sighed in relief at the contact. 

A few moments of silence fell over the two of you before he said, “You know, I was serious when I said I was going to marry you.” 

“I know you were. It’s not living if it’s not with you either, baby.” JJ had a soft smile on his lips as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

this is the first installment of my favorite song series, you can find the rest or other works of mine on my masterlist!

[loveyhoneydovey]

Dating Sam and Joaquín headcanons

Note: I was trying to write headcanons and I couldn't pick which one of them I wanted to write about, so I was like "why not both?" So here's the result, it's a mess and I wrote this at 3AM, I'm so sorry 💀

All my stories are written with a bisexual reader of colour in mind, but anyone else is more than welcome to read them

Sam Wilson x Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

Warnings: slight mention of injuries, SMUT (lots of filth i'm sorry)

· listen omg, constant entertainment from all three of you, like one of you is always up to something

· ok so i think it started out with only sam and torres

· they had been dating for a while before they first met you, their new neighbour

· you know how torres was fanboying over sam?? yeah, that was nothing compared to how you felt when you first met them

· like maybe you were struggling with the boxes you were carrying during your move because they were so full

· sam and joaquín were on their way home from their morning jog when they saw you, and what kind of people would they be if they didn’t help their cute new neighbour

· when they first introduce themselves, you’re just grateful to see the people in your new building are nice. You also felt like they looked super familiar

· they could see the gears turning in your head when they’d first introduced themselves. Both theorizing about how long it would take you to realize

· and then after like 2 minutes, it hits you, and you feel so dumb

· you try to remain calm and collected since you didn’t want them to think you were crazy or feel like they couldn’t be comfortable in their own home

· they were super chill too, you noticed joaquín was the more talkative one, while sam was content with letting his boyfriend take charge of the convo

· by the end of it you ended up agreeing to hang out together, you promised them baked goods as a thank you for their help

· you’d totally stuttered a few times, and half the time you were staring at them with heart eyes (which joaquín was not used to but sam was jngercewdc have y’all not seen the way torres looks at him whenever they interact?)

· you end up forming a relationship with them, which eventually morphs into something more

· none of you had ever had more than a partner before, so you were all figuring it out together

· torres would be so chaotic. So organized on the field, yet so clumsy at home

· sam is the one that has his shit together (not always but definitely most of the time)

· and when you start dating them, they quickly realize you’re even clumsier than joaquín, and sam’s like “oh no, there’s two of them now”

· ok let’s talk about the good stuff now

· so many freaking cuddles

· post-mission cuddles are a thing in this relationship

· just the three of you laying in bed, holding each other, tracing patterns on each other’s skin, enjoying each other’s presence

· both of them LOVE having their hair played with. only difference is sam has a bit of difficulty asking for it while joaquín will put his head on your lap and put your hand on his hair

· if they come home with minor injuries, you help them clean treat their wounds. The first time this happened, you only had avengers themed band aids (which torres LOVES), so from that point on you only buy those

· on lazy days, after some lazy morning sex, all three of you like to spend the day baking new recipes and eating them in bed

· joaquín getting whip cream on the corner of his lips and on his cheek

· sam making fun of him before you tell him he also has some on his nose

· sam putting whip cream on your face when you least expect it to get revenge

· tickle fights, they used to team up against you until an elbow was once accidentally thrown and someone got a black eye

· you and joaquín love taking cute pics of sam when he’s not looking. He noticed it eventually but never said anything because he thought it was adorable

· both you and joaquín coming home with stray animals and trying to convince sam to let you keep them

· and of course he’s gonna say yes, you two had perfected your puppy eye technique

· he’s that kind of person who says no to getting a pet, then ends up spoiling it more than you and joaquín combined

· you never need a blanket when you’re around them, especially around sam because they’re always so warm

· movie night dates always ended in the three of you doing anything but watching the movie

· both of them flying you with their wings at least once

· you calling them captain and lieutenant in public to tease them

· messing with them by acting like a fan who’s never met them

· like at one point you buy a poster of each one of them and go up to them and you’re like “i’m a big fan, may I get an autograph”, which makes them roll their eyes

· dude they’re also both so playful. Always cracking jokes and even competing to see who’ll come up with the best joke

· the three of you always know you have a home with the two others, and that you can always openly talk about your problems and insecurities without fearing each other’s reactions

· I think sam is the one that has a harder time asking for help. so you and joaquín are more attentive to his body language and any other signs that might reveal that he’s feeling down

· it breaks your heart because he was always taking care of you, joaquín and everyone else, and you needed him to know he was important too

· you decide one day that the three of you should go on vacation every once in a while, because you’d all been working so hard and deserved a little peace

· (also bc shitless sam and shirtless torres)

· imagine eventually they’d give you their dog tags as a way of proposing 🥺 i’m melting

· you had a little ceremony while on a tropical vacation with your closest friends and your pets and had the time of your lives

· you knew you technically couldn’t legally get married, but that didn’t matter. You wouldn’t have it any other way

NSFW headcanons

· now let’s get into the filthy stuff

· whenever you act up, you usually do it around joaquín, because you knew he’d have a harder time saying no or disciplining you

· and he knew you were using that to your advantage, he saw right through it

· yet most of the time it worked

· sam was more of a no nonsense type of person, so if you wanted to break the rules and act like a big girl, he was going to treat you like one

· sam is the ultimate brat tamer and you can’t convince me otherwise

· as a punishment, he loved making you ride his thigh (have y’all seen this man’s thighs? three course meal), but not letting you cum

· whenever you’d whine or pout, he’d remind you that you brought this on yourself

· while joaquín would try to get him to go easy on you, because he took pity on you and kinda has a soft spot for you

· until one day you made the mistake of pushing him too far

· maybe you’d felt like they weren’t giving enough attention, so you threatened to go get it somewhere else. Maybe you even brought up how you could go to that one friend who had a crush on you (you definitely weren’t going to, but you knew how to push their buttons)

· whether you were planning on following through with that threat of not didn’t matter

· you got the punishment of your life on that day

· he’d edged you for hours, to the point where you were crying and trembling and begging him to cum

· so he made you cum, non-stop

· “you wanted me to let you cum, didn’t you? Now take it like a good girl”

· even sam is SHOOK, now he almost took pity on you

· by the time they’re done with you you can barely remember your own name

· they took you to pound town 😌

· ALSO, you’re all switches, and sometimes you enjoy cuffing one of them or being the one giving out the orders

· I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, torres has a praise kink and LOVES being called a good boy

· Sam has one as well, but it’s more discreet

· likes being told how good he’s making the two of you feel, how no one else can do it like him

· ok but aftercare with them would be so soft

· you’re all super attentive to each other’s needs and usually know if it’s time for a bubble bath and cuddles or if you want to be held and drift to sleep

· lazy morning sex!!! just the three of you taking your time, exploring each other without a rush and not worrying about the outside world

· if they’re on a mission together and have a bit of free time, expect lots of nudes and teasing

· or sometimes even videos, which you find not fair because they have each other and you’re all alone

· NFJDNVEF imagine you buy them one of those clone a willy kits as a joke 💀💀💀 but you end up actually using them

· you know how they gave you their dog tags? yeah it drives them crazy whenever they’re fucking you or you’re riding them and they see the tags bounce

· especially those times where you’d wake them up in the middle of the night because you had a wet dream and couldn’t wait till the next morning. Where the only light entering your room would be provided by the moon, sometimes shining on the tags they gave you

· … imagine sometimes two of you decide to team up against the third and compete to see who’ll give them more orgasms 👀the loser has to do whatever the winner wants

· Jdfvfds lord this is such a long mess i’m so sorry

· in conclusion, there would never be a dull moment with those two and they’d be the sweetest, gentlest partners

Tags: @bury-my-love-inthe-moondust

[broadwayandnetflix]

Slow Down - Bill Hader x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff + 1/4 of Angst

Summary:  Hi I’ve literally been binging all of your fics and I didn’t know if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Bill Hader where the reader is sick and passes out at SNL and Bill helps them and takes them home

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahh thank you so much for your patience @bduchrnskei​ I really hope you enjoy this fic and it met your prompt expectations. I absolutely loved writing this one amongst all of my evil schoolwork, but what can you do? 

Living in a small-sized New York City apartment was not all that it’s cracked up to be. Whether it’s the heavy traffic and clutter of construction that never halts or the extreme temperatures during any season.

In this case, in particular, winter.

Or, more specifically, in this case, your heater broke, and it had become like an iceberg within your apartment space. As stated by your landlord, the repairmen were supposed to come on Saturday night, and as of right now, it was Thursday.

So bundling up had to do, in a way, you kind of missed the heater’s incessant rattling, as it had become a sort of a white noise these last few months.

You hadn’t been in New York City for very long, a little under a year, maybe? It wasn’t like you to pack up and move randomly to the Big Apple, but after clearing a spot as a new cast member with Saturday Night Live. It was most certainly a must.

Ever since you were little, you’d always had a knack for making others laugh or just getting to see someone smile. Saturday Night Live became your goal, and to secure it was like winning a million dollars. Even if it meant having to endure New York’s extreme seasonal changes.

This week was no different in the typical workflow; you were technically a new cast member. So the number of sketches you had been in was significantly limited. Still, you loved it nonetheless, with the lack of skits that you had been in lately allowed you to get to know your cast members more.

Specifically, your other recurring cast members like Nasim Pedrad and Jenny Slate, the three of you would often meet up for coffee on Sundays. Taking the time to decompress and discuss your favorite sketches of the week. It was nice to have a group of people you could relate to and find solace in, especially when the weeks became stressful or exhausting.

And oh boy, did your week’s become exhausting, especially on Saturdays. You shuddered at the thought of dress rehearsal as it stretched late into the night; losing sleep was worth the excitement.

You looked at the clock, it was nearing close to four in the morning, and you still had been awake at this point. Maybe it was the cold or the thousands of thoughts swirling through your mind, much like the snow accumulating outside.

Work was gonna be a bitch tomorrow.

You sneezed at the thought, sighed, and made sure to set your alarm before letting sleep take over.

-

You awoke with a headache and a blaring alarm that was erupting from your phone. Groaning, you shut the phone off and tried to ignore the incessant pain protruding from your forehead.

Swallowing some painkillers, you got dressed, grabbed your keys, and headed to work. Totally not picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way.

“Why good morning Y/N!” Jenny chirped as you walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“You sound oddly chipper, what happened?” you said as you put down your stuff, eyeing her curiously.

“She got some sleep, that’s what happened.” Nasim replied, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Lucky duck,” you murmured, instinctively reaching for your coffee as well. It coated your throat nicely, you sighed in content.

Jenny only smirked before starting up another conversation with Nasim; you let your eyes wander across the room. Everyone in motion, working hard to make sure shit got done. That’s the thing about working at 30 Rock; no one ever really stopped moving.

One thing that you still had not gotten used to was Monday’s. The grueling and exhausting twenty-four hour stretch period of planning and concocting up sketches. It was a scary feeling, as if you could ever compare to everyone else.

Every now and then, a pitch you threw into the ball pit would get picked, the tiny butterflies in your stomach reminding you why you did what you did.

Your eyes landed on a particular figure as he strolled into the room. His hair beautifully tousled, eyes half-open, and shirt resting ever so comfortably upon his chest. You diverted your eyes quickly, only to feel yourself begin to sneeze.

Fuck, for the love of all that’s holy, please do not sneeze in front of Hader.... too late.

He looked up, meeting your widened eyes, and gave you a soft smile. It lingered for a bit until Andy swept up from behind and hugged him along by the arm. For a second, you could’ve sworn he was gonna look back, but Andy had appeared to say something.

“Bless you!” Nasim and Jenny said in unison.

You mouthed thanks and leaned back against the wall, replaying the scene over and over again.

“Thinking about Hader again?” Jenny asked, following your line of sight, as she nudged you in the side playfully.

“Jenny! Not too loud, he might hear you.” you frantically whispered, a stern look aglow in your eyes.

“Oh honey, it’s so obvious.” Nasim chimed in, Jenny nodding eagerly in response.

“Plus he’s too far away, you’re more than safe Y/N, I think it’s cute that you like him. All the more reason to make fun of you.” Jenny says quickly before she is shoved by Nasim.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! Okay maybe not fully joking.” Jenny yelps, giving you a wicked grin.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. It was so bad, crushing on cast members, but man, was he handsome. Although you had denied it, a lot of your favorite sketches from the past weeks always seemed to involve Hader.

It was not like it was gonna go anywhere; you two barely spoke, and plus you’d probably be a mess if you did. Every now and then, though, you’d often find Hader sitting beside you at table reads. His laugh is always so goddamn infectious, and Jenny and Nasim eyeing you playfully like schoolgirls.

God, you were a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew it. Maybe even Hader knew; let’s hope he doesn’t.

“You know Y/N, I’ve never seen Hader as shy as he is when he’s around you. I mean the man literally sniffed my hair yesterday,” you quirk a brow, “But- but with you, he’s soft” Nasim’s voice crowds your thoughts, and you instantly look up to meet her in disbelief.

“Bullshit.” you retort, trying to ignore whatever attempt she was trying to make.

“Girl, you’ve kind of got a point. He’s not as jokey as he usually is whenever he’s around you Y/N.” Jenny adds, only to be interrupted by Lorne calling for a meeting.

Ah, how could you forget? Dress Rehearsal. While these days didn’t run as long as the others, they were equally draining and stressful. The three of you walked to Lorne’s office just in time as the rest of the cast stood beside you.

You felt yourself to begin to shiver unexpectedly, hugging yourself tightly. Since when was 30 Rock so cold? You felt Nasim look at you questioningly, and you shrugged her off.

Lorne had discussed the skits’ arrangements for the day, murmurs of excitement beginning to spread like wildfire around the room. Everyone just itches to get out and see if their sketch would succeed or bomb.

You took your seat in the audience as the sketches would come and go, meeting your cues whenever necessary. At the same time, your painkillers had seemed to wear off as your headache only seemed to get worse.

You made your way backstage to find the building’s first aid kit, only to brush past another coworker. That just so happened to be Bill Hader.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, slowly clamping it shut; his eyes met yours in slight confusion before softening slightly.

“Woah, hey Y/N, everything okay? You were in kind of a hurry there.” he asks; you could barely meet his eyes as they searched yours for any sort of response.

“Oh,” you gulped, “Yeah I just have this crazy headache, um I was just looking for the first aid kit.” you say, shifting the balance on your one foot to the other. 

His eyes widened before nodding quickly as if he was just reminded of something. The butterflies in your stomach crescendo as he quickly rested his palm upon your shoulder. You didn’t even know how to act, your body practically freezing at the contact.

“Actually to save you the trouble I have some painkillers upstairs in my dressing room. Not that I have like tons of drugs, but it’s no problem with me if that’ll help your headache.”

You quickly nod in response, trying to hide back a small smile before following him up several flights of stairs. God, you hated being so shy around Bill; it wasn’t like he was some mean old jerk; he was oh so genuine and thoughtful.

The two of you halt at a labeled Hader door; he looks back at you almost to check if you’re still there. Opening the door, he led you in, giving you a quick smirk, before crouching down and digging through the contents of his bag.

You had realized that this was the first time that you had ever been in a specific cast member’s dressing room. In particular, Hader’s room was neat and tidy, but you could see bits and pieces of his character sticking out. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, so caught up in the intricate details you didn’t even notice him get back up.

“Y/N, you good?” he asks; you focus your attention back on him quickly.

His hands outstretched, one holding a bottle of Advil and the other clamped tightly around a water bottle.

“Oh, um yeah. Thank you so much you have no idea how much I appreciate you for doing this.” you say rather quickly, but Hader doesn’t seem phased by your awkward nature.

You reach for the bottle and water, fingers gently brushing against his. The two of you looking down at the contact before parting ways.

Hader clears his throat, and you feel your stomach begin to tighten. Slipping two pills into your mouth, you unscrew the cap and down it carefully.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” he asks while placing the pill bottle back within his bag.

“A little I guess, I mean I tend to get nerves closer to the show. I’m sure at this point though, you’ve become an expert at staying calm.” you reply, his gaze falling towards the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m a wreck Y/N. This show is so stressful it eats at me every week, no matter what. I mean, clearly I’m doing something right and Lorne’s not gonna fire me, but, my anxiety gets so bad.” he says quickly. His eyes widened, and his posture became slightly tenser than before.

You couldn’t help but soften your gaze; you had no idea that he even went through this every week. Even now, with the buzzing tension in the air for tomorrow night, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Let alone the fact that he made the time to help you out.

“I wouldn’t have ever noticed,” he looks back up at you. “I mean, you’ve always just looked so...confident. I just can’t even begin to imagine what’s that like, every week constantly. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” you quietly admit.

He shakes his head quickly, putting out a hand almost as if he was trying to stop you.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you though, it’s awfully sweet to hear that. Especially from someone like you.” Hader’s eyes filled with such warmth.

Was Hader blushing? Or were you losing it? Probably losing it.

“Oh about that headache, everything okay up in there?” he murmurs, stepping just a tad bit closer to you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I do appreciate the help.” you look back at the door, “We should probably get back? Right? Don’t wanna miss our dress.” you say quickly.

Hader nods within an instant, eyes widening at the realization of how long you two had been gone for. He led you to the door, giving you a quick smile before he ran out, murmuring something about a skit that had something to do with the guest host.

You giggle softly, heaving a contented sigh. It definitely was gonna be a long day, and you could’ve sworn that the temperature had just dropped.

Strange.

-

You couldn’t have stumbled into it until at least one in the morning, but sleep had been desperately calling your name. Oh, how you missed having a regular sleep schedule; it would make mornings less of a struggle.

Except this morning was different, or more so than you were used to. The headache that had arrived less than twenty-four hours earlier was now ten times worse. Your body ached, and you couldn’t decipher if the bed was too hot or too cold.

This was torture, and quite possibly the flu, not to mention, you had the show tonight, shit. You practically sprang upwards before feeling the instant aftermath of that decision settling in. It felt absolutely criminal to leave those sheets as you groaned and grimaced your way towards your kitchen cabinet. Eyes barely opened while you blindly searched for the thermometer you had kept.

One quick temperature check later, you were running a low-grade fever. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I mean, you couldn’t miss the show, right? It just didn’t seem plausible, or maybe it did?

You frantically wondered while your fingers grazed over the Google search bar whether going to work with a low-grade fever would be beneficial?

Every answer didn’t really seem to fit the unrealistic expectations that you had set for yourself. Still, one disgusting shot of Dayquil later, you were out the door.

The day went by in a haze, and the headache never really did seem to falter. It was almost like yesterday in a sense, but seeing Hader waltz into the room made you smile. He smiled back.

Of course, Jenny and Nasim knew something was up; they always did. It wasn’t like Lorne was gonna fire you for missing one show; it was the flu. Except, you had made it this far, how bad could it possibly go?

-

The lights were too bright, far too bright for you to even think properly, and your fever was sure burning up. Or maybe it wasn’t, you always had to ask others around for that sorta assistance. Except, this was the primary night of the week and you weren’t gonna ask a cast member to feel your forehead.

Imagine if Hader did, Y/N, please stop being a dork.

You found solace in a large water bottle, but it didn’t do much to help the way your body ached miserably. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, but this was the big leagues.

The last time you had checked, the previous performance of the musical guest had been underway. Which meant you had survived, but the exhaustion that had been ever-growing was begging for you to lay down.

The floor looked so good right now, yeah, just for a hot second, ugh why is everything burning up?

Slowly closing your eyes, you let yourself press up against the wall, except there wasn’t a wall right there, and down you went with a thud.

-

Bill had been anxious all night, of course for the show, but for you in particular. You usually always looked so put-together, but tonight something about you was just off. It was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Andy, do you notice anything strange about, um, Y/N over there?” he said, trying to muffle the concerned edge that rested within his voice.

“Y/N? Oh that new cast member you like?” Andy replied without much thought, earning a stern look from Hader.

“She’ll hear you, god man you sure can be loud. Whatever, she just looks kind of off man, I’m a little nervous for her.”

Andy’s gaze softened just a tad until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean normally I would say that she looks fine and you’re just crushing, but I don’t think that is normal.” Bill’s gaze instantly locked onto the same thing, which was you fainting onto the floor.

His body going rigid before ultimately bolting upright, he wasn’t gonna catch you in time. Still, he definitely was gonna help if he could. Although he most definitely wasn’t the only one, other stray coworkers who happened to be backstage stood, jaws dropped.

There you went, tumbling to the ground, and Bill couldn’t help but feel his heart drop. Maybe that headache was worse than you had let up. He felt guilty for not speaking up sooner, but there was nothing he could do now.

They called a medic on the site, trying to keep it discreet as possible. It was a live show; he didn’t think it would be professional if broadcasted that shit.

He tried to fill in all of the details of how you had been acting the past few hours. It felt like he couldn’t do much to help, but he didn’t wanna leave your sight. It was odd; something about you really drew him in, leaving him reaching for more.

Plus, at this point, the last thing he had to do was go on stage while they rolled the credits. Bill was optimistic that this would count as a good reason.

He watched anxiously while the medic’s placed you upon a stretcher, his feet following without much thought. They wheeled you out to a waiting ambulance; he gulped at the thought of you having to be taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly they allowed him inside the ambulance; he was so convinced he’d be forced to wait until god knows how long. The vehicle provided seats off the side, allowing him to catch his breath and try not to worry about his current state.

That is until he saw you looking back groggily at him; now, this was definitely normal, as the medic had explained. He just didn’t see it coming; you blinked a few times, looking around at your surroundings.

-

“Hey, saw you took a little snooze there.” he teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

The ambulance rattled slightly, and you gasped a little before focusing your attention back onto him.

“Is this an ambulance? What happened?” you sat upright, feeling ten times worse, trying to piece together precisely why you and Bill Hader, of all people, were in the ambulance?

“Y/N, you fainted. The doctor’s said you’re burning up, they’re taking you to the ER.” he explained carefully, as you groaned in frustration.

He cocked his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

“About that, yeah I think I have the flu, I had a low-grade fever this morning.” you admitted sheepishly, not even daring to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry what?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as literal saucers. “Lemme get this straight, you went to work, with the flu?” you nodded, and he ran his hands over his face.

“Listen, I didn’t wanna disappoint Lorne. I mean it’s the night of all nights.” the words came out softer than you had intended; Hader practically melted.

“Oh, did you really think that Lorne’s gonna get pissed at you for having the flu? Oh sweetie, you know your health comes first right?” his words falling ever so sweetly off his lips.

You could barely look at the man, let alone control the multitude of butterflies that jolted in your already queasy stomach. Not to mention that he even thought to tag along, you nodded, not saying a word, focusing on his blue eyes like they were a safety net. Until you closed them, letting sleep overtake you.

-

You awoke once more to the sounds of machines beeping, people going from room to room, and an incessant tapping of one’s shoe.

This was most definitely the emergency room, your eyes scanning its surroundings until they landed on one person in particular. He looked exhausted, more so than you did, and you felt awful given the time it was at night. In fact, it was practically morning.

“You’re still here,” he sat upright, rubbing his eyes, “Thanks for sticking it out, Bill.” you tried to give him the most genuine smile you could possibly muster.

“Of course, I mean I overheard the doctor anyway. You’re cleared to go when you wake up, and definitely have to get some rest. I already spoke to Lorne.” you gaped, but he only stood up.

“Bill, what did he say?” you whisper.

“That you should listen to the doctor, and me.” you raised a brow. “Okay maybe he didn’t say me, but you get the point?” he exclaimed as he helped you get out of the bed.

The two of you walking towards the desk in which you had to sign out some papers, the pen unsteadily perched upon your fingers. Bill’s hand holding securely upon your back, in hopes you wouldn’t stumble. In reality, just being near him set your heart aflutter.

“Now I’m taking you home, but first I was thinking I could get you some soup for home. That sound good?” you could only look at the man in pure awe.

“You don’t have to do this Bill, really, I mean you’ve already done enough.” you gulped, only to see the man give you a smirk, his eyes glinting at you mischievously.

“Soup it is.” his hand clamping against yours, he led you out of the hospital and into the cold streets of New York City.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the little soup shop he’d been talking about; it was cozy and apparently open twenty-four seven. Against his offer, you paid for two soups that looked the most delicious and cupped the cups while strolling back to your place.

“How do you think you got the flu?” he asked gently, looking at you with curiosity.

You had to try not to laugh; I mean, at this point, it was your fault, you subjected yourself to the tundra in your bedroom for the past few nights.

“Well, my heater has been broken for the past few nights. I assume that’s how I got it.” a smile aglow upon your face, giggling at Hader’s shocked expression.

“It better be fixed tonight when we get to your apartment complex. That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” you kept giggling, and soon he joined in with that gorgeous laugh of his.

You enjoyed your time with Hader even though internally you felt like shit; he made it so much more bearable. The air was light between the two of you, he made it easy to open up, and you wanted to know so much about him.

God, wait till you let Nasim and Jenny know about this night. They’re so gonna flip; you just knew it. Not to mention, the big looming ‘I told you so’ that was so coming your way.

“This is it.” he came to a halt, admiring the quaint little building that you happened to call home.

“You do know I’m not leaving until that heater is back on, right?” he ordered, but underneath his serious tone, you could see the concern.

“Oh come on Hader, let’s go see.”

The two of you taking the steps at a time, your body wanting to collapse, but you couldn’t let him know. He stood beside you while you inserted your keys into the lock, twisting it, before walking inside.

“What’s that rattling noise?” Hader wondered aloud.

A huge grin meeting your lips, you looked at him in pure delight, and he soon got the memo. His eyes widening before heaving a sigh of relief, only to halt.

“You call me if you need anything okay? Get some sleep, and um, stay warm. That’s an order, you hear me?” you could see his performance wavering as he tried desperately not to laugh.

“Yes, Sir.” you saluted weakly, but he only began to break instantly.

You really did love that laugh.

Thanks, Bill, for everything, really.” you said as he turned to head to the door, stepping up on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His face instantly turned red before trying to compose himself as he walked away. You watched while he left the residence, giving you one last smile.

-

You awoke in a drowsy stupor that next morning to a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Want me to bring you some coffee and breakfast? - btw, this is Bill. Hope this l wasn’t too creepy. I ain’t no stalker.

Maybe: Bill: ps. How do you like your coffee?

Bill: ps.s yes or no?

You fell back on the bed with such a shit-eating grin, only to groan in response to the mistake you had just made.

You: Yes 

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

[noctarcanum]

army dreamers || levi ackerman x male!oc

Rowan, the young, but promising marleyan warrior candidate was never famous for his ability to keep out of other people's businesses. After getting caught up in his family's history of titan experiments and genetically modified clans, his supervisors decide to harvest said curiosity and lack of discipline. He wakes up on a ship, sailing north, with a piece of paper in his backpack that has only one sentence written on it, over and over again: "Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home."

chapter one: the remaining

‘So, is it true?’

Zeke pushed himself away from the concrete wall he was leaning against.

‘What?’

‘That you’re the one to inherit it.’

The streets of the inner district got filled with busy adults, hurrying home from work. The two blonde boys slowly made their way through the crows, leaving the training center behind them. The setting sun painted an orange glow on the old, shiny stones and bricks.

‘Oh,’ Zeke sighed. ‘Yeah. But keep quiet!’

‘Quiet?’ Rowan exclaimed with sparkling eyes. ‘But this is awesome, you can finally be an honorary marleyan! You’re gonna be rich or some shit! Who knows about it?’

‘Those who need to know about it.’

Rowan walked next to him in silence, as he examined the stores they were passing by. Women with thicker arms than some warriors were carrying wooden boxes back from the street, cleaned the blackboards. He didn’t really understand why they had to clean them, after all, the same thing was advertised on them every day: potatoes and flour. Maybe because the price got higher and higher.

He thought about what his sister and mother did while he was away at training and then the interrogation. He doubted if Ma even got dressed.

‘Do you want to come over for dinner?’ asked Rowan. ‘You could tell Cornelia the big news!’

‘I was there yesterday…’

‘And?’

They turned at the corner but didn’t stop at Zeke’s house.

‘Do you think I have a bigger chance now to get the armored? I mean, you could say some nice things about me every now and then!’

‘Yeah, I’ll tell them about you. What nice things could I say to them, though? You are already on thin ice, that would just end up me also being punished.’

Rowan rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.

‘You’re being punished, right?’ Zeke inquired.

‘Well, yes, technically, no. They kept talking about all the things they can thank my family, and how it won’t protect me forever, and…’

‘They’re right, you know.’

‘I know,’ Rowan sighed. ‘Also, interrupt me again and you’re not getting dinner. As I was saying… they sort of agreed with me. Or I was just hallucinating out of stress.’

‘I highly doubt that’s a thing’ Zeke shook his head. ‘What on Earth did you say to them that they agreed?’

‘Well, they first shouted at me that I need to stop acting up, they can’t deal with me anymore in these times. You know, they’re about to plan the mission to retrieve the Founding… but they don’t even have proper candidates yet, they’re just stupid fuckers who never learned how to deal with pressure…’

‘Rowan, quiet!’

‘Shit, okay, got it!’ the younger frowned. ‘It was quite the speech they gave, though. About the titan experiments my ancestors did, and those… families. That the shifters they will have to send to Paradis will not only have to deal with those devils, but entire clans of genetically manipulated guard dogs, and they really don’t have the time to discipline me every time I’m too nosy. So, it got me thinking, and I just blurted it out, that they should get rid of the families first, then comes the hunt for the founding titan…’

Zeke raised a brow, his eyes locked on Rowan. He knew him too much, that tall monkey was already thinking, planning, or just revising ideas. His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of two soldiers, patrolling the narrow street.

‘When were they placed here?’ asked Rowan, as Zeke didn’t comment on the phenomenon.

‘They weren’t here yesterday,’ he muttered.

‘That’s why I asked, dumbass.’

Zeke yet again stayed silent – he did that an awfully lot of times. Rowan sometimes wondered if it simply was his nature, or he became like this after… what happened with Aunt Dina and Uncle Grisha. What he did not like to wonder about, is that what would happen to Cornelia and Ma if he got sent to paradise, like Zeke’s parents. Would they break down? Miss him? Rent out his bedroom immediately? Starve to death?

‘So, I only said the… plan or whatthefuckever to get them off my tail, but I think I really did give them ideas… I hope this makes me more favorable when it will come to the inheriting the armored titan!’ He had to blabber about something before his mind went to a darker place.

Rowan locked the front door behind them as they entered the narrow townhouse. Thick dust sat everywhere, around and on the once elegant leather shoes his mother used to wear but wasn’t picked up in weeks. The filth that Ma didn’t take care of quickly distracted him from the bad feeling he got from the soldiers on the street, this far from the fence.

‘Ma! Cornelia! Zeke is staying here tonight! What’s for dinner?’ he shouted, but got no answer, as usual.

They found his sister at the kitchen table, sleeping on top of a pile of textbooks. Her silver hair spread out on the pages, but he knew she studied for her pilot exams. Which she won’t be able to take if they’re not honorary marleyans. Another thought Rowan needed a distraction from.

Rowan gave Zeke a more comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, after they both changed they headed back to the kitchen. Their cupboards were almost completely empty.

‘Didn’t you get the aid this month?’ Zeke glanced at him, after unsuccessfully searching for fresh ingredients.

‘The military has some good methods to keep up one’s motivation’ he shrugged. ‘We still have some potatoes and dry pasta somewhere, I think.’

They started working together in silence, Zeke knowing the kitchen just as good as Rowan. They boiled the potatoes, then the pasta, and added the remaining spices from the packet.

The meal was only enough for two.

Zeke automatically picked up one bowl and put it in front of Cornelia, who didn’t wake up to any of the noises they made.

Rowan gave the other to Ma, who even though had her eyes open, could have easily been asleep. He placed the warm bowl in her lap, guiding her bony, scarred hands to grab onto it, but her reaction to any of these arrived long seconds later. She didn’t seem to register his presence, not even when she sat up a bit on the sofa, and started eating, her greasy hair falling in front of her face, functioning like an old, ugly curtain. He stayed next to her for a while to make sure she didn’t stop after a few bites. Meanwhile, his mind wandered in his memories, trying to think back to the times his Ma was still pretty and healthy. Were they even real memories, or just the creation of a young little girl?

Zeke and he headed upstairs to get away from the smell of pasta that made their stomachs growl even louder.

‘Is it always going to be like this?’ Rowan asked quietly, not even expecting an answer.

‘This is what we signed up for.’

Rowan sat down on the bed, soon followed by Zeke. Their shoulders touched, but they didn’t pull away.

The bed they sat on barely counted as one, as it was one old mattress laid on the ground. He was supposed to get a frame, a few years back, Uncle Grisha promised to assemble one. This was the smallest promise that was broken.

He glanced out the window the mattress was placed next to. The two soldiers were still patrolling on their street.

‘We should sleep,’ said Zeke. ‘Or at least you should, you had a long day.’

So Rowan did. It was the last time he closed his eyes with full trust in the presence of him, as he didn’t wake up in his own bed the next morning. He didn’t even have any kind of bed under him, only smelly, wooden slats, and the scent of the sea around him.

He got up, thinking he was dreaming some bullshit again, but the wind in his long hair was too real. Everything got too real in mere seconds, just as the dozens of people a few feet away from him, all in chains. All in chains, except form him.

A nearby officer flinched as he spotted Rowan moving, his hand moving closer to the grip of his gun. He was clearly still a detainee, but some other kind. The ship they were on… was it sailing to Paradise? That was his supervisor’s solution to harmless bullshit he pulled sometimes? Turning him into the same mindless titan as traitors and murderers?

‘Hey, you rat.’ Burped the old officer, not even bothering to look in his direction anymore. ‘You’re not here for sightseeing, you have instructions.’

Rowan opened his backpack with trembling hands. It was almost empty – it had a water bottle in it, his knife that he trained with, and a piece of paper that got smudged ink all over it.

It had the same sentence written on it over and over again, mimicking the punishment they used on first graders in school. He couldn’t tell if it was Zeke’s or Cornelia’s handwriting.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

[triplexdoublex]

That’s My Baby

Pairings: Mod Sun x Reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, use of a strap-on

A/N: This takes place in the same universe as my other Mod fics but it can still be read as a stand alone.

“Hey, you’re home!” You greeted Mod at the door. “I was starting to get worried, you usually text if you're gonna be home late from the studio.” 

“Sorry, I got a little distracted,” he motioned to the pink store bag in his hand.

“Oooh is that for me!?” You questioned excitedly, retrieving the bag from his grasp.

“Uhhh… yeah, I mean technically —“ he winced as you opened it, uncertain of how you would react. “I know we had talked about spicing things up and I-I just happen to pass that new sex shop they just opened on the way home, so I stopped in , and - and umm, yeah I thought I might be into trying... that” he spoke quickly, with both hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans, awaiting your response.

“Oh..” you gasped in shock as you pulled the apparatus from the bag. “A strap-on? Y-you want me to —“

“Sorry—” he began, with his head hung low. “I-if you’re not into it we can just—“

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you placed it back in the bag and stepped closer raising his chin with your fingertips. “You just caught me off guard that’s all. I’d be honored.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” His face lit up. 

“Yeah,” you pulled him in for a kiss. “C’mon,” you took his hand in yours, the bag in the other and walked him towards the bedroom. 

“Now?” He questioned, in surprise.

“Mmm, hmm” you hummed in confirmation , tugging him through the bedroom door.

“Damn, you spoil me.”

“You know it, baby.” You smirked before pushing him down on the bed, with a hand to his chest. You placed the bag at the foot of the bed for the time being as Mod rid himself of his shirt. You crawled over his sprawled out body on the bed and began kissing his neck. 

“God, I fucking love you!” He spoke with a hint of soft laugher to his voice. “I shoulda known you’d be cool with this.”

“Of course, anything for you, baby,” you began kissing him lower, and lower, trailing your lips and tongue over the permanent artistry that adorned his flesh until they disappeared below the denim horizon of his jeans. He lifted his hips as you unbuttoned his pants, aiding in their swift removal; his boxers stripped away with them. You took him in your hand and slowly pumped him while you lowered your mouth to the tip with a teasing, single swipe of your tongue. 

“Always such a tease!” He remarked with an impatient whine looking down at you.

“Can’t help myself, love watching you get all flustered and needy,” you continued to taunt him, holding him motionless in your palm as you licked around the base and mouthed his balls. His eyes were locked onto yours, watching you work. His hands were gripping at the sheets with eager frustration, his cheeks rosy and flushed.

“Please!” He begged as he lifted his hips from the bed with desperate need, trying to fuck into your fist. Eventually after teasing him a little bit longer you obliged and took him fully into your mouth; a satisfied hum falling from his lips. “Finally!!” he cried out gently threading his fingers into your hair, his hand bobbing along for the ride as you worked your mouth up and down his length, taking him in as deep as you possibly could and pumping what you couldn’t. You kept at until you felt his hand pushing at your shoulder; a breathy “stop, stop” bringing you to a halt. “Didn’t wanna cum yet,” he huffed “Wanna wait until —“ his eyes finished his sentence, drifting to the pink bag at the end of the bed. You got up off the bed and quickly retrieved the bag, as to not keep him waiting. 

“Oh good, you bought lube too” you noticed when taking out the strap-on. “Here,” you tossed it to him.

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom to put on the device, saving you both the awkward embarrassment of trying to figure out how to put it on.

Inside the bathroom you stripped off your clothes and struggled to find the right orientation of the contraption, turning it around as you tried to pinpoint which of the multiple adjustable loops were meant to wrap around your thighs and which were meant  to encompass your hips. Once you got it figured out you stepped into it, and pulled it up, adjusting the straps to fit you snuggly.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you stepped back into the bedroom. “I swear you need a degree in engineering to put this thing on,” you laughed. “Ohh— getting started without me I see,” you took notice of Mod prepping himself on the bed; two lubed slicked fingers working him open. “Ready for me yet?” You asked crawling onto the bed and settling between his thighs.

“I-I think so” he slid his fingers out.

“How do you wanna do this?” You questioned. 

“Just like this,” he answered. “Wanna face you.”

 You cracked open the bottle of lube and drizzled it over the pink, phallic shaped, object strapped to your pelvis and used your hand to make sure it was fully coated before bringing the tip to the slicked pucker between his cheeks.

 You were met with resistance at first, barely able to inch your way inside “Try not to tense up or it’s gonna hurt more. Just relax,” you coached him, rubbing soft circles with the thumb of your free hand on his hip. It took a few moments but eventually Mod relaxed enough and the head of the toy popped in, being swallowed by the tight ring of muscle. 

“Mmm, fuck!” Mod groaned, squeezing his eyes tight.

“That’s the worst part I promise,” You stayed as still as you possibly could. “I’m gonna give you some time to adjust, let me know when you’re ready.”

“You’re right it’s not so bad now, think I’m good,” he said after a few minutes. “You seem to know what you’re doing, have you done this before?” He questioned as you began slowly rolling your hips.

“No, but do think I’ve never been on the receiving end of anal before? Did you forget I used to date Colson?” You laughed.

“Ah, Touché” he laughed as well. “Speaking of Colson, please don’t tell him or the guys about this.”

“If that’s what you want baby, I can respect that, but I want you to know that this doesn’t make you any less of a man or whatever it is you're worried about?” You reassured him, gripping his waist with both hands as you gently thrusted.

“Mmhhmm uh, I-I know that, but I’m not sure the boys would agree,” he answered through strained moans.

“Pleasure is pleasure, if whoever the hell made humans didn’t want men to get fucked up the ass then perhaps they shouldn’t have put the male G-spot there,” you said in all seriousness.

“That’s a good point,” he laughed looking up at you with his crystal blue-green eyes. “This is why I love you,” he cupped your face, with a smile on his, and connected your lips.  You swallowed down his moans one after the other as you slowly increased your sped and depth. “Mmmmm mhhmmmmmn,” he broke the kiss with a long and throaty moan when you brushed against his prostate. “Aw yeah, do that- do that again!” He exclaimed breathily, gripping your backside, pulling you in deeper.

“Yeah, that’s my baby, that’s my baby. Let me hear you,” you praised and encouraged him. Typically Mod wasn’t one to be openly vocal, you knew he had the potential but he usually chose to hold back for whatever reason, but there was no stopping him now. 

“Uhhh , baby, fuck! This feel so ah- amazinggg!” He whined, covering his face with his hand.

“No, lemme see you,” you pushed his hand away and cradled his face. “Look at me. You close?” You questioned. Mod nodded. “Wanna watch you cum for me.” You reached your hand down between your two bodies and began stroking him to assist with his release. He tried his best to keep eye contact; his eyes fluttering closed in sync with the ebb and flow of your thrusts. Suddenly, you felt him twitch in your hand. “You gonna—“

“Yes,yes —- oh fuck! UhhMmmm,” His eyes rolled back and his shaft pulsed as he came, emptying on his stomach. You gave him a few minutes to come down from his high.

“Might sting a little” you warned, before you slowly pulled out, producing a brief whimper from Mod. “Stay right there,” you said. “I’ll be back with something to clean you up,” You once again excused yourself to the bathroom where you rid yourself of the contraption and wet a face cloth with warm water before returning to the bedroom. “You did so good,” you praised him as you wiped the cum and lube from his body.

“ I seriously can’t thank you enough, that was absolutely incredible,” he smiled at you fondly as you finished cleaning him up.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled back. “You might want to take it easily for the rest of the weekend, you’re probably gonna be a little sore.”

“Oooooh yeah, good idea,” he groaned as he sat up. Just then his phone went off. It was a text:

Colson: 11am tomorrow don’t forget!

“Oh fuck! I forgot I promised Colson I would help him move his shit into Megan’s place tomorrow.” 

“Can you cancel?” 

“No, I already smoked all the free weed that he gave me in advance in exchange for helping him.” He laughed 

“Yup sounds like something you would do!” You giggled “I’ll go with you tomorrow to help.”

***************

“Aye, perfect timing!” Colson shouted as you and Mod pulled into the driveway. “Just about ready to move my dresser out into the truck. Mind giving me a hand, while the boys take a break? Rook, Slim and Baze have  been helping since eight am but I know that’s early as fuck for you and you need your beauty sleep or whatever.” He laughed “let’s go.” 

Inside both boys lifted one end of Colson’s dresser and removed it from his room, and headed down the stairs with it. Mod was moving slower than usual, feeling a little sore as to be expected. 

“Aye, Mod you think you can walk a little faster here, my fuckin’ arms are getting tired.” 

“I’m walkin’ as fast as I can, Kells. You want help or not?”

“Walkin’ like you got a dick up your ass is more like it,” Colson taunted in friendly banter. “I’m the one walking backwards down a staircase here bro.”

“Kells, just shut the fuck up.” Mod laughed as they continued down the stairs.  He could feel himself beginning to blush and hoped he could just play off his pink hued cheeks as exertion, before Colson started asking more questions.

“Yo, Y/N!” Colson yelled over to you as you were loading some of the smaller boxes. “What the hell did you do to my boy last night? He joked. “Man can hardly walk. Did you finally break him out of his little Vanilla shell and give his thighs a workout making him fuck you good and hard last night or some shit?” Colson truly had no filter at times.

You looked at Mod with a smirk before answering. “Yeah, something like that.”