#i feel like i may have talked about some of these before but i'm not sure

[hockeyboistrash]

not a couples costume | n.h

summary: a mistaken couples costume turns into something more

a/n: so I may have gotten a bit carried away with this 🫣 I didn't mean for it to get this far. sorry it's late coming out I've had technical difficulties and work. can we also appreciate how hot nico looks in this gif

“Oh, we’re not a couple.” You said for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. It was truly a coincidence that you and Nico came to this bar dressed up for Halloween in a couples costume. You didn’t even know he would be here tonight let alone wear something that paired well with your costume. The two of you worked in the Devil’s organisation and have only spoken in passing. Whenever you did though, any train of thought would be gone. You wouldn’t be able to focus on your work for the rest of the day, his smile imprinted in your head. God you love his smile. Nico was the same. He always hoped to see you when he was walking into the arena, feeling a little deflated when he didn’t. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You playfully glared at him. To be honest, you could’ve walked away from him by now and gone back to your friends, you probably should’ve, but you didn’t. You let your eyes roam his body from head to toe, from the tight shirt that hugged his muscles in the right places to his hand holding the neck of his beer bottle firmly as he took a swig of his drink. You were unabashedly checking him out. Nico wasn’t complaining though because he was doing the same thing. He loved the way your ass curved perfectly in your costume. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Nico shrugged, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. 

“No one is going to want to hook up with me tonight if the entire bar thinks we’re a couple.” You pointed out. Nico’s grip tightened and his smirk fell. He hated thinking about a pair of hands roaming your body that weren’t his.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked. You hadn't realised how close the two of you were sitting until you felt his warm breath against your ear. “I did save you from some sleazy guy earlier.” How could you forget? That’s how you ended up in this position in the first place. Some guy wouldn’t take no for an answer and Nico swooped in, saving you from the interaction. You still remembered how his fingers felt against the bare skin of your hip, the cold making you shiver slightly. You didn’t mind though. In fact you wish it was still there.

You were brought out of this bubble you and Nico were in by a waitress sliding a jug of some colourful cocktail onto your table. “Oh we didn’t order this.” You told her and she just smiled at you.

“It’s the prize for winning the best couple’s costume.” Was all she said before walking away, picking up empty glasses from tables.

“I should really get going.” You groaned, thinking about how bad of a combination the cocktail jug is with work tomorrow.

“We can’t let this go to waste.” Nico said, pushing the drink between you, a straw facing you both. “Besides, are you going to tell coach that you left me to drink this all by myself and that's why I'm severely hungover.” 

Nico pouted slightly, his warm chocolate brown eyes giving you puppy dog eyes. He didn’t want tonight to end. Not yet anyway, afraid that this will be the last time you speak. You weren’t particularly close before tonight. “Fine.” You agreed, feigning annoyance. You weren’t annoyed that much. Sure you wanted to go home so you didn’t feel rough the next day at work but Nico wanting you to stay with him made your stomach do flips. “But this is the last drink.” You said and his pout quickly turned into a grin. It was infectious making your lips twist into a grin.

Nico’s tongue caught the stray straw, having a sip of the colourful concoction in front of you, the image giving you impure thoughts making you clench your thighs. You wondered what else his tongue could do. 

The conversation flowed between you as the jug slowly emptied. Nico talked about his summer in Switzerland, coming second in the world championships. You listened intently as  he spoke about things he loves, his lips tugged into a smile the whole time. You could sit here all night and just listen to him talk. It felt like you were making up for lost time from all those missed conversations you had before tonight. 

“Come on.” Nico said, holding his hand out for you once he stood up. You gave him a questioning look as you put your hand into his, wondering where he was taking you. It wasn’t until you stopped at the dancefloor that it clicked in your head making you giggle.

“If you wanted to dance you could’ve just asked.” You shouted into his ear, the halloween playlist filling the bar making it difficult to be heard. 

“Didn’t know if you would have said yes.” Nico admitted, blush creeping onto his cheeks not that you could tell in the dim light. 

The two of you danced, getting lost in the music. Your bodies were pressed against each other, your ass flush against Nico’s crotch, his hands gripping your hips not wanting to lose you in the crowd or to keep you against him. You welcomed it though. It felt like it was just the two of you in here. Nico pressed soft kisses along your collarbone up to your neck and along your jaw before reaching your lips. You turned around, your hands moving to caress the stubble on his jaw as you deepened the kiss. You could feel Nico’s grip loosen, his fingers lightly sliding down to the curve of your ass. It was then that the fog lifted bringing you back to the reality that you were currently in the middle of the bar making out with Nico. Nico who you work with. 

You moved your head to the side, breaking out of the spell that was cast on you. “We can’t do this.” You sighed, gently pushing Nico away making him frown slightly. “We work together.”

“Technically we work for the same organisation, not together. Besides, no one has to find out. This could be our little secret.” He said, his fingers gently tilting your chin so you were looking back at him. “If you can honestly say you don’t want this we can stop now but I think you want this as much as me.”

You bit your lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. You wish you could say that but you couldn’t because you did want this. You wanted Nico’s big hands caressing your thighs as his lips found your sweet spot. “I want this.” You told him. “I want you.”

That was enough for Nico to grab your hand and drag you out of the bar into the cold New Jersey night. The worries from earlier slipping to the back of your mind as you climbed into the Uber, Nico’s hand resting dangerously high on your thigh.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I Can't Sit Still

The lads men noticing that you’re fighting yourself to just sit still. [Requested by: luxis-journal]

Zayne

Zayne was being awarded tonight and all you needed to do was say a few hellos and sit pretty for the night. Why did your anxiety jitters have to kick in now? Those few hellos had turned into half an hour small talks with one too many people. Zayne was quite the hot topic amongst the healthcare community; it almost seemed like he was a celebrity. You being the beautiful woman on his arm it was only natural that people were curious about you as well. The night seemed to drag on as the mingling continued. Finally when everyone was seated at their respective tables for the showcase you thought this would help you relax. However the damage had already been done.

Your leg bounced furiously under the table while your fingers moved your silverware aimlessly. “Are you alright my love?” Zayne whispered in your ear pulling you back to reality. “I’m fine why?” You responded snapping your spine straight. You felt him place a hand on your thigh calming your ever bouncing leg. His palm was warm and you could feel your self relaxing into his touch. “You’ve been eerily quiet and you can’t seem to sit still” Zayne studied your face as you glanced over your shoulder at the many people in the room. “I'm not good in social settings” You sighed “It gives me anxiety as a matter of fact I think I may be sweating my deodorant off right now” You wrung your hands as your eyes continued to ping pong around the room.

Your gaze landed back on Zayne who couldn’t help, but look at you with concern ”If you’d like to leave I can have them send my award to the hospital” That was just like him willing you drop everything for you, but you couldn’t let him do that. “This is a big night for you I'll be fine Dr. Zayne” You smiled and kissed his cheek.

You were not fine.

Which is why Zayne did not stop worrying about you. The second he was called to receive his award, he gave a brief thank you speech and next thing you knew his fingers were intertwined with yours and you were quietly slipping out the room without a single goodbye or explanation.

He held the car door open as you folded yourself into the seat. You watched him circle the car and waste no time getting in and pulling out of the parking lot. “Zayne you didn’t have to do that we could have at least stayed for dinner” You tried to talk some sense into him as he glanced down and placed his hand on your thigh. “Look at that it’s no longer bouncing”

Rafayel

Attending these art exhibits with Rafayel was nothing new except tonight you two had to travel outside of the country for this one. Rafayel acted as a translator for you since he was fluent in many languages, but it did nothing to calm the rising anxiety in you. With the language barrier and the unfamiliar environment your anxiety was reaching its peak. You'd gone deathly quiet after an hour and found yourself hanging onto Rafayels arm while subtly hiding behind him.

You mindlessly thrummed your fingers on your leg and constantly fought the urge to keep adjusting your dress and rubbing your neck. You were about as slick as sandpaper though of course Rafayel noticed your fidgeting immediately.

“What's wrong?” He questioned, cupping your face. “This is a lot” You whispered, gesturing to the crowd. He scanned your face for anything else that you might be hiding. “Then let’s leave” He didn’t give you a chance to object before he was puling you by the wrist towards the nearest exit.

By the time you reached the street Rafayels’ driver was already there waiting. He promptly guided you into the car and climbed in behind you. “Raf you have got to stop disappearing during your own exhibits” You said, pushing his shoulder when he started chuckling to himself. “Those snobs aren’t worried about me as a person they’re more occupied with who can buy my work for the highest price”

“Still you didn’t have to leave just because I can’t sit still” You pouted. Rafayel leaned in close almost touching his nose to yours “You keep me sane through these if you’re uncomfortable then I’m uncomfortable”

Xavier

Xavier loved to read and eat hotpot with you and since today was chilly it was the perfect weather to stay in and do just that. The plan was to stop in Barnes & Noble, buy a few books and head back home quick and easy. Too bad you ran into a group of people you know and you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for any kind of small talk.

Xavier noticed you constantly pulling on your sleeves and wringing you hands. He could tell you were hanging on by a thread trying to be nice and keep the conversation going.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm not feeling well baby can we go home?” Xavier calmly grabbed your hand and stared deep into your eyes hoping he did the right thing. A subtle smile curved on your lips as a silent thank you for getting you out of this conversation. “My bad Xav let’s get you home” You quickly dismiss yourself from the conversation, grabbed your books and headed home. A wave of relief washed over you when you slumped against the passanger seat.

“Thank you so much I was about to start speaking nonsense if that conversation went on any longer” You kissed Xaviers cheek making him blush. “Im glad I could help” He muttered while rubbing his neck. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

Sylus

Sylus couldn’t stand seeing those puppy dog eyes you gave him whenever he had to leave for something. Your tactic of keeping him occupied in bed wasn’t working either apparently this meeting he needed to get to couldn’t be rescheduled. So here you were sitting at the head of a long table with all eyes on you and Sylus.

Why did he have to sit you on his lap?

Many men brought different jewels and business prospects to Sylus as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. As one of the men in the room rambled on about …. whatever the fuck …. you mindlessly shook your foot and constantly adjusted on his lap only for him to move you back to your original position. Sylus leaned in to whisper in your ear after yet again readjusting you on his lap. “Sweetie I can’t have you sitting at that angle you're crushing my balls” You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Here you thought he was just trying to whisper sweet nothings in your ear like the smooth talker he is. “You’re shaking like a puppy in the rain what's the matter, tell me”

You drop your head to stare at your hands as you whispered “I don’t like how much attention is on me” Sylus nods as he takes in your words. “Can you sit still for an hour or would you like to leave?” You knew how important this meeting was for Onychinus so you tried to suck it up and stay still.

That just made it worse.

Sylus noticed your movements becoming more frequent and jerky. “Let’s go” He said under his breath. He stood abruptly from his seat cradling you in his arms. He ordered Luke & Kieran to stand in for him as he disappeared from the room with you. “Im so sorry I can’t control it” You hid your face in his chest feeling like you ruined his entire meeting. “No worries Princess I saw all I needed to see and I wasn't impressed” He readjusted to hold you a little higher. “Besides your anxiety seems to be winning this internal battle”

Your head snapped up at his accusations “I don’t-” He cut you off with a stern look “Don’t lie”

You bury your face in his chest again “Don’t judge me” Your words were muffled. “I’m not judging you” You looked up to find him staring down at you with a tender gaze. “Let’s get you back in bed”

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - portgas d. ace

a/n: this is long overdue, but here is finally the ace version and that marks the end of this series!!! i have lots more series planned in the works, however, i like to keep my secrets every now and then, so you'll just have to stay tuned and find out 😌

nothing but fluff here 💗

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when he comforts you:

-like his brother, ace hates to see you sad. while he might not be as outwardly determined as luffy, he definitely puts in more effort than usual to make you laugh or smile.

-he'll never stop to hesitate before he pulls you into his arms, carries you into his bedroom, and give you endless cuddles. using his devil fruit, the feeling of his soft warm tan skin against you is one that brings instant relief. the sound of his soft voice murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. his strong arms wrapped tightly around your body as he gently whispers "i'm not going anywhere"

-ace is both an amazing listener and advice giver. he always knows exactly what to say to comfort and calm you while also either solving your problem or making you feel drastically less stressed about it.

-this man showers you in attention and affection. ace will grab your face and kiss you hundreds of times, or until you smile or giggle, with absolutely zero care for who is around to witness it. his eyes are always on you, and when you catch him staring, he'll give you his iconic little smirk. his hand is either intertwined with yours, or placed on your thigh when the two of you are together, he'll run his fingers gently across your skin drawing shapes or lines into you.

-ace does not hesitate to remind you how amazing you are and everything he loves about you. he'll give you a long laundry list of reasons why he is absolutely obsessed with you. never giving you time to doubt yourself.

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: you've never been more grateful for your boyfriend being a human heating pad than when you're cramping on your period. no matter the time or place, ace will slide his hands up under your shirt and place them against your stomach, warming them to the perfect temperature to ease your pain. while he is typically a bit clingy in a normal scenario, when you don't feel good, ace absolutely refuses to leave your side. he will be curled up in bed with you the entire time, napping with you, providing cuddles, chatting with you, and all with his charming boyish smile never leaving his face.

when he needs comforting:

-ace really values your opinion and advice. being able to talk to you about his problems is something that took some time to get used to, being an older brother tended to hardwire him to always have the answer, and admitting that he needed help was a struggle at first. since you tend to have an extremely objective and fair stance when it comes to giving advice, it grounds him and calms him down, making him less anxious about any problem he is having.

-despite his confident energy and personality, ace thrives off of praise and words of affirmation. telling him that he's doing a good job, reminding him of his kind nature and character, how much you love him, makes all the different to him.

-physical affection is an instant relief to ace. crawling into his lap wherever he may be, dragging him to bed for cuddles, lots of kisses, constant hand holding, playing with his hair, tracing the tattoo on his arm or back, anything and everything is on the table, as long as you have your hands on him in some way, he'll feel much more at ease.

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a/n: i have no idea why i struggled with this ace fic as much as i did, but i simply can no longer look at my laptop anymore 💀

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[redjaybathood]

They were probably talking about people not being able to afford heating or having a decent place to live. Like, I know everyone - but the people who actually lived through it/had talked with their grandmas and grandpas about their childhood and youth - believes USSR was some kind of paradise, ditto with communist China. Nobody talks about slavery, about not having enough food to eat - and I am not talking about the famous famines/Holodomor even, just the scarcity of food, unless you are in the party elite - about how people were forced to live in barracks (not like military type barracks, but the cheap flimsy dirty cold type of communal housing with no central heating, no water, not even an indoor toilet)

"oh but USSR gave people free flats" unless you are talking about flats former owners of which, say, Jews, other minorities and types of enemies of the people, were arrested and shot or imprisoned in slavery labor camp prisons (to escape which people even resorted to cannibalism at times... This remark is directly to people who compare USSR prison system to the US one and even find the US one more harsh. How to put it? Prisons in most countries formerly occupied by Soviets are way better than back then, and excluding some more EU oriented countries, the inmates are pretty jealous of the US' prisons conditions, let's put it this way) - so their flats were freed up and up to grabs.

And sure, some people would get those flats, but not everyone.

This is called socrealism not because it realistically and truthfully depicts what's going on: a woman from lower class with a lot of children gets to have amazing luxurious flat, leisure and conditions to grow houseplants, raise a cat, buy a deficit radio or bike - all thanks to Stalin. That wasn't the reality of most of USSR citizen, especially working/farming class (which her hairstyle suggest she's from). That's a carrot they hanged before your nose.

The reality was, even if you got an apartment built by the government, this could have taken years. My family, for example, worked for thirty years before getting a 2 bedroom for six people. And my gran was what they called then, an invalid of childhood (meaning, she got a work-impairing disability from the childhood, thus she was supposed to get more social help from the government. Yeah, right). She didn't have a light job either. She was working full time. My dad, on the other hand, was doing one of the most difficult and health threatening jobs ever.

But hey, you will say, it's still a free flat! I'm in the goddamn capitalist corporate hell America, and I am paying thousands of American dollars to rent!

I feel you, Buddy, I don't have a home of my own either. With the war, I never will - I am pretty sure I will die faster than I can save for a downpayment.

But free flats weren't really free. You were still paying for them, with your labour being the least of it, bc your labour was underpaid. Like, you guys have 401K or something, right? Well, imagine you from now on have to get a pay cut, with your employer keeping most value of what you created, to themselves, and using some of it for a housing fund, where you may or may not get a flat for your grandchildren somewhere down the line. If you don't die earlier or become an enemy of the state or just being not very liked or socially adept person. "Capitalists still do that! We work, they enrich themselves! And now I can't afford to buy a flat!" so yeah, you're basically saying that there's no difference between capitalism and communism, you're still exploited in communism. You get that, right?

So yeah, you would have to pee a lot because you don't have money for charcoal or access to the market - and will be thrown into jail and or short for buying it on the black market - under maoism. And you would have to live in flimsy housing with lotsa spiders because you have to work dozens of years to build a whole apartment building by the cost of your labour, before you get even one room there.

(and that's if you don't piss someone who is sitting on the apartment distribution channel, because oh well. No housing for you, comrade)

I'm glad you two at least did not make fun of settler colonialism.

to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you

[genderqueerdykes]

is it weird that I think any of my (non-trans) body image issues would go away if someone I knew told me I was attractive? I’m ace and a majority of my friends know that, and they kinda avoid talking about any thing like that around me. but I think that if someone told me that I was physically attractive I would feel so much better about my weight or stretch marks or anything really. bc how can i be ugly if someone who can feel what i can’t tells me better. I don’t know how to get out of this mentality.

i think a lot of people feel this way, i have encountered this sentiment a lot. for a long time, i think i felt that way, too, and even now i have moments where i'm unsure about my appearance unless someone is complimenting me

i think the important thing to consider is that we all need validation and to see ourselves in others. you're not wrong for wanting this. you're not wrong for feeling like you need to hear feedback from others before you can be sure in what you're doing. it's not an unusual reaction. however, you don't need to get that approval in order to choose what you do with yourself and your identity

people are attracted to confidence. people find those who aggressively dress and present how they want to very enticing. people like to see someone who is confident and proud in being who they are. the main focus here should always be making sure you're doing what's right for you. people will find you attractive as you fall into yourself and who you truly are. not that that's required

i think finding ways to find yourself attractive or at feel good about how you look is the most important thing. strive to look how you feel you should, what attractive looks like to you. dress and present for yourself. go about your presentation in ways that makes you stop in the mirror and go "oh, i love that." you're here for you, first and foremost. whether or not someone else is attracted to you will depend on that individual person, anyway. there will always be people who aren't attracted to certain types of people, and that doesn't make you unattractive by that proxy. it just means you aren't compatible with those people. but it's not wholesale for everyone

your body is yours and ultimately, whether or not others find you attractive is a small part of life. its really important to consider if you like what you're doing. dress for yourself. present for yourself. find out if what you're doing is what you think looks best for you. other people will find that attractive, not like that's the metric for whether or not you are attractive, or presenting correctly. it all comes down to what you want.

i hope that helps some. a lot of people feel this way, you're definitely not alone. take care of yourself, feel free to come by and ask any more questions you may have!

[lemotmo]

Hi, I need to get something of my chest if I may. If not, feel free to ignore this message. ❤️ I've been so livid and angry about some peoples rasist, sexist and dare I say queerphobic behaviour all because of a fucking FICTIONAL character!! It's been going on for months but this is really the tip of the iceberg, like fuck those hypocritical asslickers and lfj for instigating it, for everything they said. Wanting for Ryan to get deported? Like where to? Texas?? All of a sudden he's not white enough lmao. And everything else they are saying about him and Oliver and Angela Bassett??? I'm not saying lfj didn't get hate but lmao he knew for like two months that he was leaving... Them claiming he's a victim and that he was bullied of the show when he was only a guest star and sorry to say not that great of an actor... I have no sympathy for him and based on all the problematic shit he said, I'm glad we are rid of him and his minions. Good riddance I say, no one is going to miss them! And with the shitstorm they are causing, why would the show want lfj back or any show for that matter??? I wasn't around prior to S7, but I understand what Tim meant about the fandom being worse than ever. I've been in some fandoms where things were tense but nothing like this. Sorry for the rant, it's just so infuriating to see how they behave toward real life people over a bland fictional character. They can like who they want for whatever reason, but imo there here are tons of better gay characters out there and claiming he was some revolutionary representation or whatever tells me all I need to know about them. Sorry again for the rant idk who to talk to about this. Hope you have a nice day! ❤️🙏

Oh Nonny, it's clear you needed to get this off your chest. It's okay. I get it.

You only came in during season 7? You missed such a great period before that. I'm not saying everything was alway perfect and there definitely was fandom discourse. That's unavoidable. But it was discourse on another level. Nowhere near the level we reached over the last couple of months.

But as soon as the Tommies appeared things changed considerably. We were all harassed, accused of terrible things and called 'delusional' for shipping Buddie, a ship that had been around since season 2.

We went from a relative peaceful fandom to a toxic fandom in one single episode. I got called homophobic for not really vibing with Tommy two days after the episode had aired. It was the beginning of a long and very exhausting journey for all of us.

Tommy/Lou and his unhinged fans are the worst thing that has ever happened to the 911 fandom.

But what is done is done. We can't go back. We can only move forward from here. And the future seems so much brighter. No more Tommy and after the way Lou egged his fans on to attack the show and Oliver? Well, we won't ever see him back at ABC. 😏

So let it all out Nonny and then move on. We're in the thick of things right now, but it will all soon pass. As soon as the fandom moves on to the new episode, the Tommies will scatter and probably follow Lou to SWAT. Some hardcore Tommies will stick around, but if we all collectively ignore them, they'll eventually go away as well.

I hope you have a lovely day Nonny!

[itsa-me-lily]

God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

Hi I was wondering if I could request something.

How would the 2012 turtles feel about an autistic s/o who had situational mutism? I am someone who has both and I use cue cards or text my responses when I am unable to communicate them verbally. It would be interesting to hear how the four of them approach this circumstance.

Situational mutism

Thank you for your request! I hadn't heard of situational mutism before, so I hope that what I wrote is somewhat accurate to how it works! Feel free to correct me and educate me (can be in my DMs or requests if you prefer it to be more private!) And if I made a mistake, I'll change it!🌸

Leo

Thought you were mad at him at first, or didn't understand what he was saying

When you explained (by typing it out), he just let out an "Oooh... okay"

He might struggle a bit, the first time it happens

When you are able to communicate verbally again, he will try to make a plan with you (here comes the plan-guy again, who needs a plan for everything...)

He will ask you what you need, what he can do to help, what you don't like, how it works, etc.

Prefers if you communicate through text to speech, but if you prefer something else, that's totally okay too

He just wants to make sure you're comfortable

He will make sure everyone waits for you to type out what you have to say to make sure you're not talked over or ignored

He will teach you some ninja hand signs as well, for emergency communication

Raph

Would be really confused and frustrated at first

He would think you're purposefully not replying to him and it would tick him off

After you explained (by typing it out), he would feel really guilty about getting angry with you

You'd get one of them rare apologies

After that, he would stick up for you and get angry for you if people weren't considerate enough or impatient in their communication with you

"Situational mutism is hard, you asshole! Be considerate, or I'll beat a little respect into you!"

Violence may not be the answer you were hoping for, but it is an answer nonetheless

The dumbass will sometimes not notice or forget that you have situational mutism, though.

In his own words, feel free to hit him on the head and make him pay attention/remember

Döner kebab

He would be quick to pick up on the fact that it's not 'just you being quiet'

Would ask you about different options in his mind that could possibly be related to you being silent

"Don't you want to talk or can't you talk? You can't? Okay. Does it give you anxiety to talk? Sometimes, okay... You also have autism, right? Yes? Situational mutism? Yes? Okay, that makes sense, then."

He will do his research

Will make you a smart watch that is designed for non-verbal communication, where you have different keywords, phrases, and letters to communicate

One of the phrases will be "Donnie is the best boyfriend ever!"

Please don't give him too much space to talk, though (I'm saying this for your own good). Any silence he can find, he will yap about some science related stuff

Mikey

He would be too busy yapping to notice at first

He would just start asking you endless questions and you could not keep up with answering them, since it takes longer to even answer with text or cuecards.

When you did manage to explain, he'd just react with "wooow... alright. Dope." While he does fingerguns. (6/10, kind of funny response, but could've been more considerate, since it's a struggle sometimes)

Out of all of them, he will pick up the communication the easiest

Cuecards will work best on him

He will spend the afternoon making them with you

He thinks it's really fun to use cuecards to communicate together, and he will use them to you too

Will always have a set of cards on hand for you (or him!)

One of the cards will have an arrow pointing up with the word "kiss here" written on it

[mariethesley2]

megumi x fem!reader

"Hi and welcome to the very first video tape of me trying to learn how to cook" .... She looks into the void in contemplation and feels the embarrassment crawl up to her face... "Well it's not like I'm showing this to anyone I'm just trying to document my life, so more precisely : hi to the future me! I hope that by then I would have learnt to cook more decent meals".

She always wanted to document her life with that one camera she has since apparently it's a great way to not go insane as a sorcerer ! but the girl never really knew how to start and learning how to cook was a good starter, from one side she gets to film a simple mundane chore done and on the other she gains a basic life skill, one stone two birds!

"anyways I got these groceries," she says that while showing the bag to the camera "going down the endless stairs AND going back up is such a drag, I really HOPEFULLY I won't have to do groceries that often"

That was her first day in the jujutsu high dormitories and wanted to try the tiny kitchen in her room and what better way than to cook pasta in it?

"so I only found this kind of pasta, " she says looking at the package, it's almost expired. The girl turns back to the camera smiling "looks good to me" "then I got this cheese, I'll grate it later, " she fetches something else form the grocery bag "I also have canned mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, a lil bag of flour I got from home, this tiny cute lil brick of milk I'll use it to make the sauce along with these tiny bits of salt and pepper" she said while presenting one by one to the camera.

"I'll try and cook enough for both me and megs "

She grabbed a pot, filled it with water put the pasta to boil with some oil and salt, despite her being alone, she never stopped talking to the camera, it seems like she has a lot to say...

"ok so I have a question, it's kinda personal but do you think megumi wishes he has friends other than me?? 'cuz at this point i' m starting to think that we're only friends because there was no options or am I imagining things?? " she paused to hear the answer and busied herself with the sauce.

It didn't take long for her to remember that she was, in fact, alone and that the answer she was waiting for was never coming

She let out a little laugh to mask the embarrassment "hah.. I'm barely one day in and I'm already losing it it seems... Yaay..." a small pause followed, "still I hope future me has the answer to this!!"

For the rest of the video she remained silent while preparing the sauce, straining the pasta, putting it in bowl for her to share with megumi, she really wanted for the "meal" to turn out just nice, no scratch that, she wanted it to be at least edible.

While arranging the bowl and spilling some sauce on herself and the camera, and with bits of grated cheese almost everywhere she was finally done "and here it is ladies and gentlemen!! This pasta dish made the one and only me!!" the self proclaimed chef looked at the camera with the biggest smile there is, clearly proud of herself.

The door knocked just when she was about to turn off the camera. She quickly hid it and went to get the door and there was her lifelong friend that she may have a tiny little, unnoticeable and insignifiant crush on, but that's a story for later.

"gojo is as-" before he could even start talking, she quickly cut him off out of excitement "I made pasta!! Come taste it!!" the girl took him by the arm and guided him to the tiny kitchen, she slid a fork towards him on the counter "here, have a taste and tell me what do you think".

"are you serious?? How am I supposed to trust you and your non-existent cooking skills?? You remember the sweet chicken or should I remind you if the time we almost die cremated?? " she shoved a fork-ful of pasta before he could cite anymore of her previous epic fails, "so??"...

clearly wrote this with childhood friends to lovers trope in mind...

Author's note ig: I have no idea what I just wrote honestly, if you read it I'm genuinely sorry for you cuz it's boring af and badly written ik. I just wanted to put it out of my drafts cuz it's been bugging me there. I'll prolly never finish it so if anyone wants to rewrite it well you're welcome to!! And maybe tag me so I could read my idea with a better writing style, thanks!! <3

[spoocys-glade-of-dreams]

Rayman listened to Cliff's story, and he reacted in shock when he heard about the recordings and the photos.

"Wait. You've been following us? Taking pictures and videos? You weren't one of the paparazzi I had to chase off when I was still the voice, were you???"

Rayman would take a moment to compose himself. He didn't like the idea that Cliff had practically stalked them like that, but at the same time he understood the reason why he would do that. He wasn't going to hold that against him.

The mention of the trenchcoat guy and Ellie urging him to tell Cliff the truth would cause Rayman to take a moment to brush his hair back with his hands. He would begin to speak in the lower, gruff tone, and would change his expression to match more with the Ramon alias.

"Is this what you meant by "trench coat guy?" Ramon's an alias I use when I want my identity kept secret. Mostly when I'm doing work for Murfy or I just want to be left alone by the public. Why don't we go inside before I talk about the rest of that story?"

Ramon would urge Cliff to go inside the house. Once they were in, he made sure the door was shut before he would continue.

"When I was fired, I had a bad mental breakdown and murdered the board of directors. I broke Bullfrog out of prison and that's when I moved into Ellie's apartment. I didn't feel safe staying at my penthouse anymore. Some time after I moved in, that fake they got to impersonate me broke into our apartment. I have reason to believe they may try to come after Ellie again.

It's why we moved in with Murfy and the rest of the household. Power in numbers. It's safer there. Knowing that bug, he'd be able to detect when something goes wonky with the power if that fake tried to pull that again.

I'm still Rayman, even with this look. Our roommates know I'm very prone to breaking character around Ellie in casual environments. I'll just have the hair back and I'm still that cheery face everyone knows me with."

@spoocys-glade-of-dreams

"She's quite charismatic isn't she? Not to mention, she grew up to be a beautiful young lady. We've been looking out for her from this dimension, but as I was mentioning to Globox, it's a very complicated situation. My wife is at the store right now getting groceries for everyone's stay, so we'll explain everything once she gets home."

"Rayman...I'm aware of who you are. Before you started dating my daughter, I had mixed feelings about you...because...well...your Eden's poster boy. I wasn't sure what kind of person you really were because Eden is a terrible place. Either Eden was forcing you to do something against your will while lying to you behind your back or you were aware of their true colors but chose to work with them because you shared your beliefs."

"Seeing you out with my daughter was not only the first sign that she was still alive after her disappearance, but she looked very happy. If my daughter is happy, then I'm happy and so is her mother. I had taken a few pictures of you two while you were out. But then there was this trenchcoat guy which I took video footage of. So I thought you two broke up and then got back together after Ellie dumped the trenchcoat guy."

"By the way, I'm Cliff. Despite knowing about who you are, I'm happy to meet you as well. I can tell you care a great deal about my daughter after what you just said and that's something I greatly appreciate."

"First of all, he was The Voice of Eden and then he got fired and was replaced with a clone of himself. Second of all, Rayman and the trenchcoat guy are the same person. Go on and tell him honey."

[vickyvicarious]

Today's entry is full of Lucy/Jonathan parallels. It's so many throughout... I can't possibly quote every single one, but here are a few big things.

I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

vs

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. (5 May)

+

These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. (30 July)

Lucy is writing with the specific intent of keeping anyone else from getting into trouble through her - in other words, so none of the maids or her doctors or whoever will be blamed for her murder if she dies before the night is through. The first quote from Jonathan is not really a direct match to this sentiment, of course. But while I couldn't remember a perfect quote to compare, we see hints throughout his journal that Jonathan is writing in the hopes that someone else might someday see it. Perhaps Mina, perhaps some other guest to the castle... he hopes that the explanation of what happened to him, and detailing of what Dracula is, will prove useful. Perhaps it will help someone else protect themself - just like Lucy hopes here. (This is of course not his only reason for writing. Another major reason why is how it helps to keep him sane and helps him plan escapes. Still, it is one of his reasons.) And certainly, the sentiment that the record is important to keep even at risk to oneself, is a shared link between them. Both of them also show a determination to face their death directly.

This line is also an echo of the various times Jonathan (and, more recently, Jack) experienced something seemingly impossibly horrific, and made a big point that they were writing things down exactly as they happened.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing.

vs

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! (24 June)

Lucy awakens after the first attack of the night to the sound of dogs howling (amongst other things). Jonathan too has been saved from a trance by this noise, though in his case it was a close call. Dracula certainly seems to have successfully hypnotized her and most likely did drink from her between his arrival in the room (the dust swirling in) and the maids'.

What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

vs

I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. (8 May)

+

What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear? (24 June)

+

Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:— "Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. (29 June)

These are only a few of the lines that Lucy's quote reminds me of. This is the big one, there's so much to connect in it.

Like Jonathan, Lucy is alone with the dead. Dracula has sabotaged her only chance of reaching out to other people for aid (drugged maids = workers in the yard, people who saw Dracula dressed as Jonathan). She also feels duty-bound to stay by her mother's side, in a way which reminds me of Jonathan's feeling of obligation towards Mr. Hawkins (all the more as Mina's letter today emphasizes how familial their relationship has become). Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot see any options to escape from the living nightmare she is experiencing.

Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot leave because if she does, she fears a wolf will get her. (Much like Jonathan, she is earlier in her memorandum able to distinguish a wolf howl from a dog's, despite never hearing one before.) Even though she does not really expect to live through the night, she cannot make the choice to go out and face almost certain death. She's even recently seen the wolf kill a mother, to really drive the comparison with Jonathan's experiences home. (A contrast between the two is, of course, the mother he saw die was trying to rescue/avenge her dead child, but was too late. Mrs. Westenra seeks comfort from her daughter tonight, and as she dies unwittingly steals away Lucy's protection (garlic), thus holding true to her role of accidentally endangering her further.)

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

vs

Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. (24 June)

+

God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina! (25 June)

(I've run out of new colors and am recycling. These aren't meant to match to the above instances of these colors.)

Like Jonathan described his experience being hypnotized by the vampire ladies, Lucy too sees Dracula's form as circling specks (twice, in fact, the other quote being above). The lights going blue and dim are also reminiscent of the various times Jonathan describes moonlight at the Castle. I especially think of just before he meets the vampire women, when he muses about the powers that modernity cannot defeat, and his modern lighting is contrasted to the moonlit room. Here, Lucy's modern lighting is going out as the supernatural invades her bedroom.

Lucy bids her final farewells to her mother and her fiance. In the quote I gave, Jonathan does the same for his father figure and his fiancee. Both of them invoke God for help. Both of them end their entries with this thinking of the one they love most. Jonathan of course does this multiple times, but I'm only quoting this one instance as it feels like the closest match overall.

And once again, we also see multiple comparisons beyond what I directly quoted. Lucy reiterates her expectation of death as in the quote at the top, and even chooses to hide her memorandum in her clothes, much as Jonathan hid his diary on his person at all times. (The difference being, he wanted to hide it from Dracula; she wants to ensure hers is seen by someone.)

[seraphic-sibyl]

I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been

[hollowflight-propaganda]

I think it's time I change my bio to say it's been 11 years since I started to watch Ninjago.....

Gosh. Where's my senior discount on the lego sets, huh?

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant drabble

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Some parallel scenes because I love putting my characters in pain. One of these is from when Onyx was 17 (living a happy life) and the other one was when he was 19 (a servant). He remembers one of these events and unfortunately it is not the cute happy one.

masterlist

content warnings: sunburns, idk honestly this is pretty light but let me know if I forgot anything

“Your shoulders look pretty red, Onyx,” Ethan said.

I twisted around, trying uselessly to look at my back. “Really? Again?”

“Did you not use sunscreen? I reminded you to, like, a gazillion times.”

I laughed, giving up and sitting back down. “You reminded me like… twice, maybe. I kept forgetting. Ask Ember if they've got aloe vera.”

“No need, I know where it is.” Ethan left the room, probably digging around in the bathroom. “It might be expired,” he yelled loud enough for me to hear him.

“I don't care, E. It doesn't even hurt that bad, honestly.”

He snorted with disbelief, rubbing some of the gel onto my shoulders. “You really should be more careful about this, sweetheart. You're going to get skin cancer or something.”

“I'll be fine.” I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. “I'm sorry. I thought my wings would protect my back better.”

“You would think that,” he sighed. “Whatever. Now that we're back from the beach, it's ice cream time. Come on.”

~

“How the fuck did you manage to get a sunburn?” the prince asked. “We were outside for, like, an hour.”

“I'm sorry, Your Highness.” We had been outside for longer than an hour, I thought, and no one had offered me sunscreen. It didn't matter, though. What mattered was that I had gotten burnt.

“I don’t think we have aloe vera.”

That was fine. Medical supplies were a privilege that had to be earned, and I didn’t have the energy to earn any tonight. “I’ll be okay, Your Highness. Thank you for the concern.”

He sighed. “Be more careful next time, Onyx. Injuries affect your productivity.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

~

taglist: @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606

[lettersiarrange]

Has time always moved this fast? I'm genuinely asking. In 200 years we went from Bridgerton to AI. The everyday lives of people in each of these eras feel like universes apart. I'm no historian, but it seems like the everyday lives of people between 1500 and 1700 weren't that different.

Have humans throughout time immemorial reflected on life 30 years ago, 100 years ago and commented on how vastly different it was? It feels like we're running at a breakneck pace in the modern era. The It Gets Better project was founded in 2010 because gay people were so universally ostracized that lgbt teen suicide rates were off the charts. And while we're still pretty far from full LGBT equality, openly having a problem with gay people existing is a pretty fringe opinion now that's fairly universally frowned upon, even in the southern US.

I'm pretty sure the first time a woman wore pants in congress was in the 90s.

Culturally, technologically, resource-wise, it feels like every 5 years we leap 5 decades forward. Is it just our own preoccupation with the era we live in that makes this moment feel so significant? Or are we actually moving as quickly as it feels?

I know people have always laughed at the grandpa's who complain "when I was your age...", but has the gap ever been this wide? Or is there truly something special about now.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead