#i just got off my period the other day too it was particularly bad

[coochiekrab]

My period is killing me and the only thing that’ll save me is a cis guy being telepathically sent all my pain (Can we pretty please get Aubrey dying from period cramps)

Do you feel better yet anon

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

Taglist:-- @livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777 (Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Art of Persistence

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After a long day, you return home to the comfort of your two favorite boys.

warnings: swearing, brief misogyny, Frank being adorable

a/n: For the lovely @zomtart who wanted to see something with Frank and a dog! As always, reblogs and comments fuel my writing!

w/c: 2.1k

“The art of love is largely the art of persistence.” Albert Ellis

Walking through the doors into the bakery, your heart sank. It was going to be a long day, you could smell it on the air. The humidity seeping through the cracks in the doors had made the atmosphere purgatorial. You could feel the heat clouding around you, the air laden with moisture only made stickier by the ovens inside. Blowing a frustrated breath out of your nose, you gave a pleasant nod to your manager as she slunk past you towards her office.

“Good morning to you too,” You muttered, stalking into the back to set down your bag.

You were rapidly approaching your breaking point. Each inhale flooded your senses with the aroma of toasted sesame and melted butter--the combination turning sour after a week of beligerent customers and stressful shifts. If you didn't need the money, you'd have called out. Unfortunately, those precious wages and tips were keeping you afloat right now.

Tossing a thin canvas string over your neck, you secured the flashy red apron around your waist with a tight knot, not minding the line of pain that encircled you as you yanked at the ends. Pinning your worn name tag to your chest, you spun on your heel and headed for the counter.

Today was a new day. It would be busy, Mondays always were, but that didn't mean it would be bad. Right..?

Lamentably, by the time the morning rush had ended and you were finally able to slip into the break room for a moment away from the chaos, you were confident today would be the same as every other day. In a period of three hours, it had all gone to shit. Two of your coworkers had called out, throwing you and the one other reliable employee to the wolves. One particularly aggressive customer had thrown a cup of scalding coffee at you—claiming it was burnt after the tiniest sip you’d ever seen. And, the cherry on top of the crappy day you were having, you'd burnt the shit out of your hand pulling a bagel out of the toaster for a family that wouldn't stop nagging you. Fuck your well-being, they had places to go.

The circulation to your legs was slowly being cut off by the tourniquet you'd accidentally tied your waist in, but you couldn't be bothered to fix it. Staring wearily at your bandaged hand your body trembled with fatigue, discomfort, and residual adrenaline. Pulling out your phone, you positioned it in your good hand, selecting the proper contact and crossing your fingers.

Please pick up, please pick up, please—

“Hey doll, did you need somethin'?” Frank's gruff voice crackled over the line, relief crashing over you as it did. Your body sagged at the question, the idea that you weren't handling it all alone.

“Um, yah, I was wondering if you could take Wes out for me? A handful of people didn't come in so I'm stuck working a shift and a half.” You nibbled at the skin on your bottom lip, hoping Frank wouldn't be annoyed that you asked him to care for your dog again this week.

You'd gotten Wesley as a puppy about a year ago, after a friend found him and his siblings abandoned in a nearby park. He was the last to be adopted, but you just couldn't deny his sweet little face. Unsurprisingly, the pair of you got along swimmingly.

The only problem arose at times like these, when your manager demanded that you stay past your scheduled end time to fulfill someone else's obligations. Wes was a good boy, but he could only hold out for so long without needing to pee or expend some energy. When you weren't there to play fetch or run around the block, you often turned to your partner for help.

You knew Frank adored your rambunctious pup, but the thought of adding more to his plate for any reason always made you guilty. He was busy, he had his own life and job and shit to do. Wes was your responsibility. Frank hadn't signed up for this, nor was he being compensated for his time. You really needed to hire a dog walker or something, that just wasn't an option given your slim budget right now.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. I’ll head to your place when I can. You know when you'll be home?” As always, Frank accepted the burden immediately, without so much as an irritated sigh. His readiness to care for you and your four-legged roommate never failed to sweep you off your feet.

“Around 6, if I'm lucky. I know that's late—” You rubbed at the back of your neck, grimacing as your fingers were met with warm, clammy skin.

“Don't worry about that, doll, you ain't the reason for that.” Frank reasoned, his patience only fueling the flames of guilt swirling around you.

“I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who could be at fault.” You laughed bitterly, swallowing the despair coating your tongue.

“No, you aren't.” Frank protested firmly. “Ain't your fault your boss wants you to stay, babydoll. You're just doin' whatcha can to stay employed. No shame in that.”

Your eyes fell closed as you let out a breath you hadn't meant to hold. Frank's response was tender, effortlessly caring, as if he was there rubbing your back and calming you down. Soothing your doubts with every syllable. He understood the pressure you were under and he never blamed you for it.

“Thank you.” You whispered, the longing you felt to be with him only intensifying as he comforted you from a distance.

“No need to thank me, honey. Just get home safe, yah?” The concerned edge that perpetually lined Frank's words tipped the corners of your lips into a smile.

“Ok.” You promised, bidding him goodbye.

The rest of your day slogged along like a fish attempting to swim through jello. Slow, awkward, and unbelievably messy. Each interaction corroded your dwindling social battery, wearing your patience thin. It took every fiber of your being to not scream right back at the customers as they demanded ridiculous things from you.

Oh your espresso isn’t coming fast enough? Why don’t you come around the counter and make it your damn self. 

Rolling your eyes at the annoyed tone of the customer begging for the drink, you pretended not to hear him as you steamed milk for another order. 

“Geez bitch, are you deaf?” 

You barely registered his muttered comment, but it struck you like a blade anyway. Fist clenching around his cup, your fingernails punctured the cheap, waxy paper, splattering the freshly brewed espresso over your work station. 

“Oh no!! I’m so sorry sir, I’ll make you a new one.” Shooting the fuming man your best try at an innocent, I’m-simply-so-ditsy smile, you tossed the ruined cup into a nearby trash can gracefully. With growing satisfaction, you took your sweet time restarting the beverage, hoping the asshole would burn his tongue the second you handed it over. 

Shoving the tiny cup across the counter, you cemented your beaming smile in place as the dude snatched it from your grip without a word. 

“You’re welcome, asshole.” You muttered as he slammed the door on his way out. A glance to the clock quickly lifted your spirits. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes and the shift from hell would be over. You’d collect your tips and bolt before your supervisor asked for something else. 

Behind you, your next problem cleared their throat. Whipping around to face the uptight, blazer-clad woman, you raised an eyebrow. “What can I do for you?” 

Fumbling with the keys on your ring, your fingers hadn’t even lined the correct one up with the lock when the bolt thunked, the door sliding open. Standing on the other side of the frame, taking up most of your frame of vision with his broad stature, was Frank.

Tumbling into him, you groaned happily as his giant arms engulfed you, his stomach shaking with a brief laugh.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. We both did.” Pulling back slightly, Frank jerked his head to the wiggling golden retriever who was barely containing his excitement a few paces away.

Squeezing through the door past your hulking boyfriend, you knelt before your ecstatic canine, opening your arms for him to clamber into. Hugging your dog as he wriggled and chirped happily wasn't easy, but it made your heart swell with adoration every time you tried.

The way your dog reacted when you came home from work was nothing less than an ego boost. Poor Wes could never seem to keep still, too overwhelmed with joy and love that his tail swished wildly, shaking his whole body. Once you were within kissing distance, Wesley was determined to slobber all over you, reminding you just how much he'd missed you while you were away. These moments made all the hardship worth it.

Crouching behind you, Frank's hand slid beneath your raised elbow to scratch at Wesley's back, crowding in until you were fully leaning against him. You exhaled, sinking into his chest as he tugged you impossibly closer. Trailing kisses down the side of your face towards your shoulder, Frank rumbled with a chuckle as your dog plopped over the pile of legs, rolling belly up with an open-mouthed smile.

“Try as I might, I don't think I'll ever be the favorite.” Frank remarked, giving Wes a firm rub on his stomach.

“Well, I do feed him.” You snorted, scratching at your dog's ear. “Seems to be the key to both of your hearts.”

“Got that right,” Frank agreed, squeezing you tightly until you giggled. “Did your shift go ok?”

Puffing out a breath, you shrugged, turning your head so he could see your face. “Only got called a bitch once so, I'd say that's a win.”

Scoffing indignantly, Frank scowled. “Gimme a name, sweetheart.”

“Frank,” You groaned, not unhappily. “If I let the Punisher loose on every asshole that came through the shop, we'd have a massacre on your hands.”

“I'd do it anyway. They deserve it, treatin' service workers like that.” Frank grumbled, nuzzling your cheek.

Your hand slid up to the base of his scalp, twisting the edges of his hair in your fingers. “I appreciate it, handsome. But I'm ok, promise.”

“Did ya make good tips at least?” His question was genuine, his expression almost hopeful, but you barked a laugh anyways.

“Take a guess.” Your voice was bitter, thinking of all the ungrateful patrons you'd had in the last twelve hours.

“Hmm,” Frank pondered. “Twenty?”

“Fuck Frankie, I wish.” You rolled your eyes. “Two bucks.”

“You're shittin' me.”

“Unfortunately, my dear, I am telling the god's honest truth.” You laughed humorlessly.

“Two bucks. Fuckin' hell.” Frank scrubbed a hand over his face, clenching his jaw as his anger roiled deep within. “I'm so sorry, doll.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You pouted, feelings of inadequacy mingling with the fear of being utterly stuck in this dead-end job. “I hate asking you to help with Wes every damn day. You deserve better.”

“Hey now, don't you go worryin your pretty little head about me,” Frank scolded gently. “You're the one who don't deserve to be treated this way.”

“Don't have much of a choice, do I?” You wondered aloud, shoulders curling in as you descended back into hopelessness. “I need this job.”

“Then you'll stick with it for now,” Frank proposed. “And I'll help ya find somethin' better in the meantime.”

“You don't have to do that Frank,” You objected, letting him slip out from under you and offer you a hand up.

“I know I don't have to, darlin'. I want to.” Kissing your lips tenderly, Frank cupped your cheek as heat rushed to your face.

“Thank you.” You murmured, chest tightening with emotion.

“Anytime, gorgeous.” Frank winked at you, bringing a smile back to your face.

A piercing squeak caught your attention, drawing it towards the floor where an impatient Wesley displayed a plush toy you didn't recognize.

“Did you buy him a toy?” You asked Frank, knowing grin creeping over your face as the man blushed bright pink, shrugging one shoulder. Bending down, you tugged at the arm of the wooly sheep, pretending that you were grabbing it for yourself until Wesley ran off, squeaking it victoriously.

“Needed somethin' to do and he seemed bored, so we took a walk to the pet store on 45th.” The embarrassed man mumbled, rubbing at his nape and averting his gaze.

“Aw, Frankie,” Winding your arms back around Frank's tree trunk waist, you peppered kisses across his face. ”That's so sweet of you.“

“It's nothin', really,” Frank stated matter-of-factly.

“Sure, tough guy. It's nothin',” You smirked, clenching your arms one final time before gripping his hand. “Come sit, we can order dinner and play with Wes.”

Planting a firm kiss against your hairline, your scalp tickled as Frank smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @pone21 @ignore-mp3 @screechingphantommaker @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @vsplanet @pigeonmama

[gottaluvharry]

Break Down

Charles Leclerc x Female Reader

Summary: You’re on your period and Charles makes you cry

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

Everything about today had sucked so far. You woke up on your period, Charles had to go to the factory so you had to go without seeing him, your cramps were amping up, you dropped your coffee and chattered your favorite mug, and now you forgot that you were supposed to make pasta for dinner so you didn’t have any of the ingredients at home and it was too late to go to the store. As Charles walked in the door, you heard the sound of his keys being set down and his shoes coming off. You knew he was in a bad mood just because he’d didn’t call for you like he usually does the second he comes in the door. As he rounds the corner to the living room of your shared apartment he sees you laying on the couch under a blanket with your favorite show on the tv.

“Hi baby” you say, sitting up slightly. “Hi” he says shortly. “Did you make pasta yet” he asks, making your stomach drop. “No I forgot to go to the store to get the ingredients, I’m sorry I’ll make it tomorrow I promise”

Charles wasn’t mad at you, truly, he was just in a bad mood all together. He sighed loudly and rubbed his hand down his face and turned away from you, he knew he had to stop himself before he did something he would regret. You just felt so horrible and you were so emotional that you weren’t even surprised to feel the tears slip down your cheeks. The sound of you sniffling behind him caused him to turn back around, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying in front of him.

“Amour” he coos, getting down into he knees in front of you and running his hands your hair. “Why are you crying?” You look down at your hands, not being able to meet his eye. “I just feel bad b-because you were working all d-day and I should’ve at least made d-dinner for you and I h-hate disappointing you and I really hate it when you’re m-mad at me and I got my period a-and my cramps hurt and I just-“ your ramble was cut short by a particularly uncontrollable sob. You didn’t know what had come over you but the singular question he asked you caused a pandora’s box of emotions to bust open. “Oh baby, I am not mad at you or disappointed” he said as he pulled your head into his neck. “I am sorry I made it seem that way I am just tired” All you could do was nod your head in the crook of his neck, still crying and gripping his shirt with your fists. He pulls away from you and guides your head up to look at him “I love you, and I’m sorry you’re hurting” he says as he puts his hand over where you hurt, adding pressure to hopefully help relieve some of your pain. “Let’s just go get in bed, yeah?” You nod your head and let him carry you to your room, happy that your boyfriend is always there for you when you break down rather than running away.

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

This is so me, when I cry about one thing it almost always leads to me crying about a million other things:)

inbox is open!!

[powerfultenderness]

Wait how would neighbour könig react to a sick reader? Like they’ve holed themselves up in their apartment and are really unwell. I’m in my sickly Victorian child era and need comfort from this hunk of a man 💕

Exchange

Rated: Mature Word count: 2965 Notes: I flipped flop so much on what kind of sick, but settled on König taking care of you during your period because it allowed the exchange that takes place.

Eating dinner alone in the comfort of his own home had been something König used to look forward to. For one, the food was better than what was offered at the mess hall (not that it was particularly bad). There was also the quiet his home offered, no loud and rambunctious soldiers turning meal time into some form of entertainment or competition. As he rose in rank, he started working while eating, then when he finally got his own place, he discovered he didn’t have to. He could take the time to simply enjoy his meal. It was refreshing, to say the least, and turned into a routine. He liked routines…until he didn’t. Until you moved in next door.

Lately there had been a little dance between the two of you. Sometimes you’d invite him over for dinner, other times he’d invite you over. As much as he wanted to sit you down and insist on a set schedule (every day), he didn’t want to scare you away. The next best thing, he figured, was to bring you dinner himself, no excuses, just because he wanted to spend time with you.

He was confident when he knocked on your door. You had expressed interest in this restaurant before and now he was certain to win some favor by sharing his favorite foods with you. 

He was confident until you opened the door. 

“Hey, König.” You started, a quiet pained sigh following your greeting, “I’m not really up for hanging out tonight.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he took in your appearance.

You were wearing what he assumed was your pajamas, a t-shirt and a pair of black shorts that normally would have had him drooling over your exposed skin, but that he was too worried that you were hunching over slightly in obvious pain. 

You shook your head, “nothing. I’m just not feeling good.�� 

“Let me help,” he lifted his hands, intending to herd you back inside and either to the couch or your room, but as he did so he brought the container of takeout closer to you. 

“Ugh, König!” You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose and quickly dashed to the kitchen, where you flung yourself over the sink and threw up. It wasn’t much, all liquid, bile and spit and what little water you had managed to get down. 

He cursed quietly and followed you, dropping the food on the counter before gently touching your back. At least he tried to, but you waved him off as you grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe your mouth, though you kept it pressed to your face as you spoke. “I’m just really sensitive to smell right now.” 

“Oh!” He realized that it was the take out that had caused you to suddenly throw up and apologized before darting out of your flat with the food. 

You were still in the kitchen when he came back, having dropped the food off at his place. “Darling, please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.” 

“Nothing.” You sighed as you tried to stand straight, though one of your hands remained pressed to your lower stomach.

“You just threw up on an empty stomach, I do not think that is nothing.” 

You scoffed quietly and resisted rolling your eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need to rest, so I’ll see you later, alright?” 

You tried to get him to leave, instead he moved even closer to you, setting his hands on your shoulders. 

“Please. Let me help.” 

You looked up at him, worry clear in his eyes despite the mask he still wore, and sighed as you broke eye contact by dropping your head onto his chest. He didn’t seem to mind and started to gently rub your shoulders. 

As you leaned against him, he started to worry even more. You felt so weak, trembling slightly in his arms, he had to resist the urge to scoop you up and take you back to his home, where he could properly take care of you. 

“It’s just my period, it’s bad the first day. Just let me go back to bed.” You mumbled and attempted to pull away from him, of course he didn’t let you.

“Okay.” He easily picked you up in a bridal carry, ignoring your squeaked protest, and walked you back into your room. 

He’d been in your room enough times to see how unusual it was currently. Your bed was a mess, blankets in a tangled bundle with your pillows strewn about, used tissues scattered on the bed and the floor. Your nightstand had a glass of water and some pill bottles on it, next to your laptop which was turned toward the bed with some movie on pause. 

He gently set you down on your bed and helped straighten out your blanket so you could get comfortable. You mumbled your thanks as you curled up on your side.

“Do you need anything?” 

You were about to tell him no when your knee hit the, now cold, heating pad under your blanket.

“Uh, actually, can you throw this in the microwave for ninety seconds?” 

He nodded with a soft “of course,” and gently took the heating pad from you. 

Once he was back and handed you the warm compress, he kneeled next to your bed. “Anything else? Something to eat? Fresh water?” 

You groaned and shook your head. You were so nauseous you could barely hold down enough water to swallow the pain medication, there was no way you were ready to eat yet. 

“Cuddles?” He asked as you were shaking your head.

You actually chuckled, his own smile softening his eyes.

“I like cuddling with you, König.” Though it didn’t happen as often as either of you would like. “But not now. I move too much and I don’t wanna bleed on you.” 

König pulled your blanket up to your shoulder, as it had fallen when you reached for the heating pad. “A little blood doesn’t scare me, darling.” 

You laughed again and scrunched up your face. “Gross.” 

“Oh,” you looked back up at him, “you really wanna do me a favor?” 

He nodded, almost too eager to finally do something to help you.

“Can you take me to work tomorrow? I hate driving like this.” 

“You’re going to work tomorrow?” He blinked rapidly, surprised to hear that you were considering this in the state that you were in.

“Yea,” you laughed again, “my period isn’t exactly a good excuse to miss work. Besides, I’ll feel better in a few hours.” 

König hummed like he wanted to disagree but nodded. “Alright.” 

“Thank you. I usually leave around seven.” 

Of course, he already knew that. Not that he was going to say so out loud.

König stood back up and hesitated, looking back and forth between you and the door.

“What?” You prompted him.

“You need to lock the door.”

“Ugh!” You turned your face into your pillow, hiding a grin. “Just leave it unlocked.” You’d get it later. You had to get up eventually. 

“I’m not leaving your door unlocked all night!” König chided as he looked back at you. Especially not when you were this weak and vulnerable! “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You pushed yourself up with another weak laugh and rolled your eyes. “König, you can barely fit on that couch sitting down.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving you with your door unlocked.”

“I’ll lock it later. Or, or just use my spare key.”

König stiffened, “spare key?”

“Yea. It’s on the shelf in the living room, in the white and blue bowl. With a Hello Kitty keychain.” 

As König followed your directions, finding the key easily, he fought with his own thoughts. You were not giving him free access to your flat whenever he wanted! You were just letting him borrow it because he was the one insisting the door be locked. 

After taking a moment to settle his racing thoughts, he popped back over to your room and knocked on the door to draw your attention. 

“Found it,” he said as he held up the key with its cute little cartoon charm attached. 

“Good.” You peeked up at him before settling back down, “thanks, König, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

He double checked that the door was locked before he made his way back to his own flat. And even though he thought he should return your key to you tomorrow, he looped it onto his own set of keys. 

-

König was concerned when in the morning you admitted to still not having eaten. He was even more concerned when he picked you up from work you admitted to also having skipped lunch. 

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, again, as he helped you down from the truck. “I’ll eat later. Right now I just need a nice hot shower and to stretch.” 

Thankfully it was the weekend and you’d get to spend the rest of your period in peace.

“Stretch?” He asked as he opened the door to the building.

“Yea,” you put a hand on your lower back. “My back doesn’t like when I hunch over so much.” 

König followed you inside and up the flight of stairs, all the way to your door, silent. Maybe you read his insistence on your well-being wrong, most men would rather not talk about women's periods, why should he be any different? 

He was so close to you as you unlocked your door though, that you had to open it and partially step inside just to properly turn to face him. You were about to thank him, but he was leaning down almost in your face.

“Wha-” 

He took your hands in his and looped them around his neck, “hold on.” 

“What?”

He then wrapped his arms tightly around your back and stood up straight, pulling you into a hug that lifted you off your feet.

You let out an involuntary groan as relief flooded you as your back released, the accompanying pop of your back cracking loud enough for both you and König to hear clearly. 

He set you back down, glad of the mask hiding his burning face, and loosened his hold on you until his hands were softly resting on your hips. 

You looked up at him, a bashful smile lighting your face as you continued to cling to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “That felt really good.” 

His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his hands back, blood thrumming at the little whimper that you let out when your arms fell away from him. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. If he didn't leave now, he'd do something inappropriate, like push you up against a wall and devour you. The thought stirred him until he looked at you again, at the way you pressed a hand to your lower belly in an attempt to alleviate some of the cramping, and reminded him that now was not the time.

“I should, uh, leave you to that shower.”

You hummed and smiled, “alright. Thanks for the help, g’ni-”

“-And I’ll stop by to check on you in an hour.”

You breathed out a laugh, “you really don’t have to.”

“Will you eat?”

You made a face and groaned. While not nauseous enough to throw up from something as small as sipping water anymore, you weren’t quite feeling like eating just yet. Though, maybe you were at the point of questioning whether you were nauseous because you weren’t eating, or if you weren’t eating because you were nauseous. 

You opened your mouth to answer him, to tell him that you’d eat later, but he shook his head. “I’ll bring you something to eat in an hour.” And he walked away before you could protest.

You sighed, well, his heart was in the right place…

-

You were feeling infinitely better after a hot shower, glad to put on your comfiest t-shirt and shorts and wait for König to show up with food. Just as he said, a little under an hour later he knocked on your door. 

“I got you soup.” He said instead of a greeting when you answered, holding up a covered, steaming, glass container. 

“That actually sounds nice, thank you, König.” 

He smiled, the little creases around his eyes giving tale to it, behind his mask, as he walked in. “Good. I was afraid you would say you would eat later.” 

“I mean, it’s technically later now.” 

He shook his head and motioned towards the bar stools you had pushed up against the counter. “Sit.” 

He’d been over enough times to know where things were in your kitchen, and served up some of the soup with a glass of water. It was a light soup, mostly broth with finely diced vegetables. 

“Is this what you eat when you’re sick?” You asked as he continued to move around your kitchen.

“I don’t get sick.” 

You scoffed a laugh that you tried to play off as you blowing on the hot soup.

“...Yea.” He answered truthfully as he put a kettle on.

“No shame in a good ol’ Cup a Soup. I have some in the pantry, you didn’t have to raid your stash for me.” 

“Had to make sure you would eat.” 

You laughed a little at that, surprised at how well he seemed to know you. You would feel a little guilty for not finishing a bowl if it were something that he brought over instead of what you just had sitting in your pantry. 

“What kind of tea?”

“Peppermint. With two spoons of honey.” 

You were finished with your soup by the time he was done preparing your tea just the way you like. 

Following a cute little exchange of an empty bowl for a fresh tea cup, he motioned to your room with a nod, “go lay down. I will clean up.” 

“Kay. Thank you.” You didn’t argue with him this time, because all you really wanted to do anyway was climb in bed. 

König followed after you just to grab your heating pad then headed back to the kitchen.

You were careful with placing your tea on the nightstand, close enough to reach while you’re in bed and but not too close to the laptop that’s facing the bed. 

“I have something for you,” König started as he came back, just as you settled down.

First he handed you your heating pad, which you were glad to pull under the covers with you. Then he held up your favorite candy bar, “for when you feel better.” 

You chuckled, “aww, thank you, König!” 

He set that down next to your tea and shifted on his feet awkwardly before he looked at you again. “And this. Here.” 

He held out his hand in a loose fist towards you.

“Hm?” You reached out to let him drop whatever it was into your palm.

You blinked at the slightly warmed metal in your hand and smiled when you looked down. A single key attached to a plain key ring. 

König was looking up and away from you when you looked back at him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered out an explanation. “Just in case, yea? I want you to keep it.” 

“Okay,” you said softly and reached over to the nightstand and slipped it inside the drawer. “I’ll keep it right next to me.” 

König’s heart fluttered at how intimate the simple little gesture sounded and he was once again glad that his face was covered. “Need anything else?”

You hummed and patted the bed next to you. “Cuddles?”

His eyebrows shot up at your request. “I thought you didn’t want to cuddle?”

“That was last night! But if you don’t want to cuddle, it’s fine. I’m sure I have a plushie around here somewhere.” You sat up and glanced around your room, trying to remember where you stashed that cute teddy bear you had.

Before you could point out your bear, König moved around to the other side of the bed and lifted the blanket enough to slip under it, muttering for you to lay back down. 

There was a bit of an awkward shuffle as he kicked off his boots and settled behind you, spooning you.

“Ack, you’re on my shirt, you’re choking me!” You half laughed as you tried to pull the tail of your shirt from under him.

He cursed and pushed himself up long enough for you to free yourself. “Why are you wearing such a big shirt?”

“It’s comfy!” 

“And where do you get such a big shirt?” He teased as he tugged on the excess material before settling his hand over the heating pad that was slipping, keeping it close to your abdomen.

“I stole it.”

“You stole it? From who?”

“Mmhm.” Then you paused to hit play on the movie you had picked out, “just…someone.” 

Your ex. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t even want to think of your ex while wrapped up in König’s arms, but your silence itself was loud enough for him to hear it. 

“Do you do that often?” “What?”

“Steal other people’s clothes?”

You laughed, “well, it is hard to resist a comfy shirt.” 

“Little thief.” He teased in German, chuckling at your “what?!” that followed.

You were familiar with his nicknames enough that you picked up on the word ‘little’ but you didn’t know the second word. 

“Only of comfy t-shirts!” you protested when he translated for you.

König chuckled and nudged you slightly, “watch your movie.” 

He didn’t pay attention to the movie, even if you did insist that it was good. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to tempt you with one of his shirts. 

[Neighbor!König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist: 

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog  @trashitytrashitytrash 

[autisticwriterblog]

Izzy, Ed and abuse

okay, so I’ve seen a few people talking about Izzy and Ed, and it genuinely disturbs me that I’ve seen people deny that Izzy is a victim of abuse. By most definitions, physical abuse is categorised as causing physical harm to another person’s body with intent to hurt them. Some things, like punching Izzy for selling Stede out, or choking him for saying hateful stuff when Ed was at his lowest, whilst not acceptable in the real world, are perfectly normal reactions for a pirate to have toward a member of his crew, so I’m not talking about things like that.

But the toe scene and the early parts of season 2 are clearly abusive, and only by sheer character bias (framing Ed as someone who could never do anything wrong) can you look at the way Ed treats Izzy and not consider Izzy a victim. Izzy and Ed have had a mutually toxic relationship for a long time, judging by their interactions, but I personally only see abusive behaviour starting with the toe scene. And the abusive one is Ed. Which shouldn’t be a controversial thing to say, considering what we see on screen, and yet…

Even at the end of season one, we saw Ed cut Izzy’s toe off and force him to eat it, and it is confirmed in season 2 that he took two more toes. He is even about to take a fourth toe when Izzy reports that the crew refused to throw their treasure overboard, and Izzy doesn’t argue, much unlike in season 1, when he often bitched at Ed for his decisions. Now, Izzy just takes the punishment.

Things between them come to a head when Ed shoots Izzy in the leg, leading to infection, and the amputation of his leg. He even puts a gun in Izzy’s hand, directly leading to Izzy’s suicide attempt. And in the end, all Izzy gets is a mumbled apology and that's that.

I know many people don’t like Izzy, but do they not sympathise with him? I’ll be first to admit that I don’t like Ed and Stede (I used to, but season 2 made me dislike them more and more for reasons too complicated to go into now), but I feel bad for them when bad things happen to them. I got bullied as a child, so I sympathise with Stede in the flashbacks to his childhood, and I was horrified when I learned what Ed's father was like. I don't particularly like either of them, but I feel bad for them when they're suffering. Which is why I found it so strange and appalling that people who dislike Izzy seemed to find it funny when Izzy was crawling along the floor, or died a painful death.

Even ignoring Ed's treatment of Izzy, the way he treats the crew is abusive too. He overworks them, pushing them into three months of consecutive raids (assuming they did one raid a day), leaving them all so stressed that Fang seems to always be crying. He forces Jim and Archie to fight to the death for no reason other than he said so. He expects Frenchie to kill Izzy, and it is clear how terrified Frenchie is the entire time he lies to Ed. The whole crew walk on eggshells around Ed because they don't know when he'll explode again. Basically, even if Izzy isn't being mentioned (and he should for the record, because he got the worst treatment - and he didn't deserve it, despite that some people seem to think being mutilated is a fair punishment for yelling at Ed), Ed was still abusive towards the crew. During that time period, Ed is incredibly unstable. He wants the world to burn and doesn't care who gets hurt along with him. Which is why the crew still show signs of trauma after Stede returns. Because they are traumatised by Ed's behaviour.

I know that Ed is a victim of abuse, and I have seen people bring this up when his abusive behaviour is mentioned. The thing is, it's perfectly possible for a victim to become an abuser themself, because they're a human being and are capable of doing bad things. Yes, survivors don't have to become abusive (see: my mum, who was smacked as a child but never raised a hand to her own children, because she didn't turn out like her parents), but it can happen. And that is what happened with Ed. There is even a direct parallel between Ed's dad throwing a plate against the wall, scaring Ed's mother, and the scene where Ed throws a chair against the wall, making Stede visibly flinched. If you want someone to be annoyed with about this comparison, don't pick the fans who are just noticing something in canon - blame the show for writing Ed doing the same thing his abusive father did.

In conclusion, Izzy fans aren't just making things up. We're pointing out things that canon showed onscreen and how Ed's behaviour toward Izzy is abusive. I wanted to like Ed this season, but the way the show wrote him made it impossible for me to tolerate him, because he treated everyone badly and they were expected to just move on. I understand that Ed is a romantic lead, but perhaps it wasn't a good idea to make your romantic lead act so abusive toward his subordinates and then never show any real consequences of that.

[writerscall]

Enemies to lovers with spider hazel

author's note/s: 3.6k words. spider!hazel and fellow superhero/vigilante!reader, more of a one-sided annoyances to lovers, really. think kind of supergirl-esque for reader's powers (at least in the flying and strength aspect) and to help visualize reader's mask, click here for reference.

“So that’s, what, five bad guys down for me this week now and three for you? Maybe I’ll sit back and relax tomorrow so you can catch up.”

You can’t see the face behind that mask but you’re sure there’s a shit-eating grin on it. You roll your eyes at the quip. “Oh, fuck off. It’s not a competition.”

Not that that ever changed how annoyed you got whenever the tally was higher in her favor, though. But the webslinger’s count wasn’t what really got you riled up; wasn’t even how smug she could get about it. It was the way she executed the crime fighting skills that you assumed she was learning and making up as she went. Spiderwoman was messy and, ironically, uncoordinated half the time, but the worst part was that she drew too much attention.

You knew attracting the attention of the police and the papers was inevitable, but at least you had the good sense to not make a whole show of being a vigilante. Spiderwoman, on the other hand, just loved to stay and chat.

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that. You know I’m just messing around.” There’s a drop in her tone, clearly making an attempt to ease the tension. “You’re a lot faster than I am with rounding up criminals, so you get extra points for that.”

At that, you allow yourself to smile the tiniest bit. She can’t see it behind your own mask but if she was as observant as she claimed to be, she might see however little of it reached your eyes.

She clears her throat, bringing a hand to scratch at the back of her neck as she says, “So uh, I know it’s getting late and all, but I’ve got my backpack stashed somewhere not far from here and my lunch sandwich is still intact. It’s a pretty big one so you know, if you wanted a post-crime fighting snack…” 

It’s a harmless, friendly gesture so you hold back a scoff and snide comment. You get it — the business you were in was best done alone but it could get lonely after doing it for some time. Besides, masked heroes like the two of you wore masks for a reason: nobody could know who they were, and even fellow vigilantes weren’t an exception to the rule. But you supposed it would be nice to have a friend with the shared experiences.

Just… maybe not her. Or just maybe not yet. This wasn’t like making friends in school, after all.

“Not hungry,” you tell her shortly before lifting yourself off the ground, signaling that your conversation was over and you were leaving.

You hear her say something as you take off, but you can’t be bothered to look back.

Despite it being the last day of the week, you found Fridays particularly hard to get through. Mostly because you were itching for the weekend to come but because the bad guys in the city always seemed to act up during that day. The feeling in your stomach about what your evening patrol might turn out like was a mixture of both fear and excitement, but you tried your best to push it down for the time being. It was only the second period.

“You and Miss Callahan, partners,” your teacher says with a tap to your table as she strides by, listing off other pairs. You look over to Hazel who apparently is already looking at you, her eyes wide with… shock? A hint of nervousness in them too.

Weird. You were sort-of friends through the cheerleaders she was surprisingly close with, Isabel and Brittany, but you’ve never really spoken much to each other. Maybe she was worried you guys wouldn’t click without the other girls around.

You cast her a smile as she gets nearer, sliding the worksheet to the midpoint of the table. “The total number of questions is an even number, 12, so we can each get a half. But we can help each other too, of course.”

Hazel mutters something that sounds like an ‘okay,’ but she mumbles something else under her breath that you can’t quite make out.

Overall, the class goes fine. The osmosis experiment wasn’t too hard to do and the questions were manageable. It was just how Hazel acted throughout the whole hour that threw you off a little. You knew she could be as awkward as she could get excited, and sometimes she talked too much and didn’t pick up on social cues easily, but the whole time she just seemed… uncomfortable, if that was the right word. Like she really wanted to say something or do something but she couldn’t for whatever reason.

Once you’re both done cleaning up, she wastes no time in removing her laboratory coat and shoving it into her bag, but you don’t want to let her get away that easily. Gently, you place a hand on her forearm to stop her. “Hey, Hazel?”

She pauses, eyeing your hand for a second too long before looking at you. Properly looking at you. She could barely do it throughout the experiment.

“I just wanted to ask if everything’s okay?” You bring your hand back and begin to slip off your own coat. “It could be none of my business, so feel free to tell me off if you want, but you just seem a bit out of it.”

Hazel opens her mouth to speak, but her gaze quickly moves from your face to something beside you. Rather, on you; your shirt was pulled to the side while taking off the coat and it exposed the bruise at the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone. Shit.

“Oh, that’s— don’t worry about that. I just tripped and fell hard in P.E. the other day,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand, pulling your shirt back in place. God, you hoped nothing in your voice or face was giving you away. You doubt her first assumption would be that you were one of the masked vigilantes featured on the news, but she couldn’t be thinking of anything good either if she didn’t buy your excuse.

And she didn’t. “That doesn’t look too good,” Hazel says with a frown.

“It’s fine—”

“Come with me to the locker room? I’ve got something that can probably help with that. I mean, it’s not in the locker room, it’s in my actual locker and I’ll have to go get it from there first before going to the benches, but uh… um, yeah. I-I’ve got something.”

Her ramble ends with a sigh and you can’t help but smile at how she stumbled out all those words. Funny how you were the one all concerned about her just a minute ago and now the tables were turned. You didn’t want anybody seeing your cuts and bruises, or at least didn’t want anybody asking about them, but you didn’t get to ice the one she saw just yet. You’d take whatever ointment or cream she might have stashed away in her locker if it would help.

So you nod your head and walk with her towards the door. “Alright, yeah. I’m sure you know a thing or two about treating bruises, what with all that fighting you do.”

You almost bump into her when she stops and whips her head at you sharply, that wide-eyed look back on her face. What was with her today?

“Your fight club? With Isabel and Brittany and all those other girls?”

Hazel visibly deflates and lets out a half nervous, half relieved-sounding noise at that. “Yeah, yeah! Always gotta be prepared.”

You say nothing in return and follow along to her locker, deciding not to overthink it. Hazel could just be a little odd and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Ah—”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, being even more careful than earlier with moving your shirt and bra strap to the side to expose the bruise more.

“It’s okay, just… I think it would be easier if I took my top off for this?”

Hazel actually makes a sound when she gulps. You’re quick to add, “Only if you’re comfortable with that, no pressure at all. It’s just that the bruise kinda trails off to the back too, so…”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Whatever you’re more comfortable with. I’ll just…” she trails off, turning away so you can take your shirt off.

“Haze, you don’t have to do that,” you say with a chuckle. But it was instinct as it was for everyone when somebody was changing in their presence, and you knew there was an extra kick to it now for her.

Brittany and Isabel were always just poking fun, but you knew they teased Hazel about you sometimes. Both girls even asked you about your possible interest in her more than once. Hazel was cute and you did want to get to know her more, especially see how she was in that fight club because they always said she was different in that element. But considering your own after-school activities, dating was just out of the question.

Silently, Hazel turns back, cap off the tub of gel in her waiting hands. It was obvious that she was trying very hard to look nowhere else but your face and the area of the bruise, so you reach out and smile at her reassuringly. “Nothing to worry about. I know you’ve seen boobs before.”

“Well, not your boobs.”

She says it so casually that you’re both taken aback, but you just laugh. Thankfully, Hazel laughs along with you too.

You lean against the sink and she comes closer, stopping once her knees knock against yours. “Tell me if I’m pressing hard, okay?”

You smile at her again, softer this time. “Okay.”

It’s comfortably silent as she applies the gel on your bruise. High in vitamin C, she tells you at some point, cause it apparently helps bruises heal faster. Hopefully you didn’t get hit there again tonight so you could actually see if the science behind the gel worked or not.

When you turn around so she can work on the bruise’s extension on your back, you say, “That gel looks like it’s barely used. Do you have a stock of those at your fight club or do you guys just tough it out when someone gets a hit in?”

“This is my personal one, but most of us prefer to use the traditional ice packs. And unlike the rest of them, I heal pretty quickly.” Hazel smiles at your reflection in the mirror and you immediately smile back. You didn’t think it was possible for her to ever have a hint of cockiness in her tone. You kind of liked it.

“Like a regular superhero then, huh?”

She looks away, her smile dropping slightly. “Nothing like that. Um, you’re all good now.”

Hazel reaches for your shirt before you can even ask her to. You thank her with another smile and she moves away so you can put it back on.

As you walk alongside her to the exit, you stop her for a moment before pushing the doors open. “Thank you again. I’m pretty sure the gel is working already.”

Her gaze falls to the ground and once again she’s all fidgety and bashful. You hesitate for a second, but before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean forward to kiss her on the cheek. Just a light, friendly peck, even though ‘friendly’ might’ve been teetering over the edge at that point. Something shifted and you weren’t so sure you’d just laugh it off the next time Brittany or Isabel asked you about Hazel again.

You walk out of the locker room together, shyly glancing and smiling at one another until you have to part ways for your next classes.

Christ on a cross, you were really fucking tired. The city had been quiet since you started surveying it at around five o’clock and you were highly considering calling it a day at around half past seven, leave whatever happened in the later hours to the other crime fighters your city had one too many of. Hell, even to whatever cops who might be able to do their job properly for a change.

But a trio of snatchers caught your eye as soon as the thought occurred to you. So much for an earlier end to the week.

And you had them subdued with ease. Two of them were clearly new to the life of crime or just greatly inexperienced, and the other one was yelling at them half the time. Despite your skill and inhuman qualities, however, they were all relatively bigger than you so knocking them all out still took some time. You were two down with one to go when you heard a thwipping sound by your ear, and in the next split second, the snatcher was webbed to the wall.

Then you heard that voice. “Looked like you needed a hand.”

You look over your shoulder, groaning. “I didn’t, actually.”

“Well, I wanted to help you anyway. You’re welcome!”

“I’m not thanking you!”

The blare of police sirens comes not long after and you and Spiderwoman flee the scene before any of the cars come to a stop. Flying got you ahead of her since she relied on buildings to swing off from, but she caught up to you in no time. In just a few minutes, you were both back on the rooftop you left her at earlier in the week.

“You know, you’re right for making sure to never have to talk to the cops after putting the bad guys down. I should do that more. Those people really don’t like us.”

“I think you just talk a little too much for their liking.”

It’s not meant to be funny, but she laughs at you anyway. You might’ve put your guard down and decided to not be so irritated if it weren’t for the throbbing pain near your shoulder. You were sure the bruise there got bigger and worse after one of the snatchers got a good punch in that area.

“Yeah, well, I’m calling it a night. The city’s been quiet enough except for that one incident today, so I’m going home.” You sigh, moving to walk past her. “You should, too.”

“Hold on, I…”

You stop, waiting like she asked. If she was gonna ask you to hang out and share a sandwich again, she still wasn’t getting the answer she wanted.

She’s in a silent debate with herself for too long and you really, really wanted to go, so you say goodbye and start walking again. But just as you come shoulder to shoulder with her, she reaches out to touch yours and you wince back in pain. It just had to be the bruised one.

“Oh god, sorry.” She says as she takes her hand away. “Are you okay?”

“Obviously not, but I’ll be fine the next time we unfortunately cross paths again.”

“Wait, I just—”

“Look, Spidey, I really don’t have time—”

“Just take the tub of gel home then, if you don’t want me to take a look at it.”

What the hell was she talking about?

Then it hits you, and you freeze in place even before she says your name. Your actual name, written on your birth certificate and school records, written on that worksheet you shared just a couple of hours before.

Slowly, she begins to take off her mask. You almost want to tell her to stop but that wouldn’t change anything. Even if she didn’t show you her face now, you’d see it in two days time on Monday. Maybe even earlier if you happened to bump into her on the weekend.

Your greatest annoyance was the same person you thought you might’ve been developing a bit of a crush on earlier. You could not deal with any of that right now.

So you don’t.

“I know you’re probably freaked out by now, but I promise I haven’t—”

“I need to go.”

A crease forms between her brows. She starts to say something again but you’re quick to cut her off. “I need to go, okay? Just leave me alone.”

Hazel lets out a resigned sigh, looking to the floor as she nods. You fly faster than you ever have to get back home.

Your luck doesn’t get any better over the weekend when you get a fever on Sunday evening, making you miss class for the next three days. A paracetamol usually did the trick after a day, but the fatigue and exhaustion of your secret life was probably getting to you, too. But even with the ugly feeling of a fever, it was actually really nice to just stay in bed and drink soup for a change. It feels like you haven’t properly rested in weeks.

Your mind, however, was still restless. You tried not to look at the news too much in case there was some criminal that got away and it would just make you feel awful for not being able to catch them. But you tried even harder not to message Hazel to talk.

“Hey kiddo, your friend from school is here. Says she has the notes and homework you’ve missed since Monday.” Your dad pops his head in as he speaks. You can’t see who’s behind him, but it was probably Isabel. She’s been checking in on you constantly.

“Yeah, just let Isabel in, dad.”

“Not Isabel,” says a different voice as the door shuts behind her. Speak of the devil. “But I do have Isabel’s notes because they’re way neater than mine,” Hazel adds, a sheepish look on her face.

You don’t say anything as you watch her cross the room, shrugging off her backpack and gently placing it on the seat by your study table. Then she turns to you, and you’re surprised to see the tears welling up in her eyes. “Hazel, what—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…” She shakes her head, angrily rubbing at her eyes. “I thought something really bad happened to you.”

“It was just a fever,” you tell her as you sit up straighter against your headboard.

“You know what I mean.”

You did. You reach out and pat the space beside you on the bed. “Come on, come here.”

Hazel does as she’s asked. Her gaze was focused on your carpet but you could see that her eyes weren’t glistening with unshed tears anymore, although they were rimmed red. “I’m fine, I promise. The fever’s gone now and I’ve been cleared to go back to school tomorrow.”

She nods but she’s still not looking at you, so you take one of her hands in between both of yours in an attempt to make her. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted on Friday night. I just didn’t know what to say and it was… it was a lot to take in at the moment. I was so sure that nobody knew who I was. I panicked.”

“I haven’t told anyone, I swear.” Hazel looks at you then, holding your gaze like her life depended on it. “I know I talk too much but I would never do that to you. Never.”

You can’t tell if she’s quoting you from your last conversation or not on that last part, but you believe her. “I know. I’d never tell anyone about you either, Hazel.”

She looks down at your hands when you rub your thumb across the side of hers and, after a moment, she laces her fingers with yours. There was a burst of warmth in your chest and you could tell there was one in Hazel’s too. So much for your one rule of not dating anyone because of the dangerous part of your life.

Not that you thought the two of you were dating, though.

“So… now what?”

“Well, life goes on as it did before, I guess.” You scoot closer to her, smiling as you add, “But I guess we can hold hands every now and then, if you like.”

“Oh, I like. I very much like,” Hazel replies enthusiastically, a matching smile on her face. She holds on to your hand tighter. “Can I kiss you every now and then too?”

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

But that’s changed in a heartbeat, both of you leaning forward at the same time. You tug her closer, unlacing your hands so you can bury one in her hair as the other holds on to the side of her face. Hazel kisses you slowly, but there was an urgency to it as well; like something could happen the next day that would ensure she would never be able to do it again — but all things considered, that was an unfortunate thing that very well could happen. You kiss her back just the same, savoring the moment and praying to every god out there that your mom or dad wouldn’t come barging in any time soon.

She pushes you down onto the bed and pulls away with a grin, planting kisses across your cheek and down to your neck. You hold back from verbally reacting to that and the feeling of her hands on your hips, her thumbs gently caressing the skin there. It takes too much energy for you to manage to say, “Hazel, Haze… my parents are home.”

Hazel brings her face back up to yours. Instead of looking disappointed, she just looks pleased. “I know, sorry. Got carried away — I have been fantasizing about this for a while now, though, so cut me a little slack.”

You giggle out an ‘okay’, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Also, if there’s any of that fever bacteria still in me, I apologize in advance if you get sick in a day or two.”

“Don’t even worry about me,” Hazel says with a shake of her head, leaning down to kiss you soundly once more. “I heal fast.”

[unlucky-phantom]

Cayde-6 x Guardian reader SFW alphabet relationship headcanons.

So, first post, it's a long one I will say but I tried my best to be as accurate as I think it would be. hope you'll enjoy x

um...warning for swearing i guess. Could be read as gender-neutral, there is a mention of periods but it's barely there so I'll tag it as both. other than that have some good old fluff.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, Cayde is slightly reluctant to show affection in front of people he doesn't trust wholeheartedly, mostly because he's worried you might become a target, not wanting another Taniks and Andal situation. When he sees you can more than hold your own in combat, he is happy to relax a little. (Just a little)

Afterwards, when you two are in public he's not afraid to let people know you're his, he's actually very proud of the fact that he won you over however there's no over-the-top PDA. A stolen kiss here and there, holding your hand, a hand on your lower back or waist, maybe the odd steamy moment somewhere in a dark corner of the hanger as you both giggle like teenagers.

Privately he's incredibly affectionate, wanting to make the most of the very slim amount of downtime the 2 of you have together. He'll follow you around your home like a cat, eager to simply be in your presence. He's always finding an excuse to touch you, sitting together on the sofa? He's got his head laid in your lap. Cooking in the kitchen? He's got his chin resting on your shoulder, watching you, arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship with Cayde would likely start after he tells you to take him with him because he hates his job. Much to his delight and surprise you try and sneak him out onto your ship, however Zavala has eyes everywhere and catches you both in the act. After a slap on the wrist, Cayde takes you out to ramen when he's next able to, to apologise for being a "bad influence" or so Zavala says. (he tooootally didn't sneak out a 2nd time to do this).

As your best friend, he's ride or die. He's incredibly loyal, maybe a little brash but you know both of you have each other’s 6, on and off the field. After a while, he's not afraid to show up (normally unannounced) at your home at stupid o'clock in the morning. He claims it's just because he's an early riser, or he was just awake, or some other ridiculous excuse, it's actually because you're the only thing that can calm him after the nightmares that more often than not plague him during the night.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh god yes. This man is the exo equivalent of a limpet. He loves the feeling of your skin under his fingers, your warmth pressed against him. He loves them for a lot of reasons. They're comfy, and deep down he misses the warmth of a human body.

If you're hunkered down, cuddled up in one of his many hideouts, stashes or one of your homes, he likes to make shapes on your skin. He likes to be big spoon 90% of the time, wrapping himself around you, arms around your waist securely, a protective gesture, it'll take a lot to coax out of him that he partially does this because if shit hits the fan while you're sleeping, he knows exactly where you are. You can feel the hum of his internal workings against your back, a soothing melody, the gentle vibrations seeming to mimic a heartbeat and breathing.

There are the odd days that cayde isn't big spoon. The nights his nightmares get too much, or he arrives home battered and exhausted, he'll crawl into bed with you without a word, kick off his boots and lay his head on your chest. You let him stay there a while before coaxing him into removing his armour and getting into something more comfortable. Afterwards, it's straight back to nestling his head into your chest, listening to your heart, legs tangled together. He's particularly fond when you gently stroke the back of his head and hum some soft tune.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Deep down cayde would like the idea of settling down, he knows the likelihood of that is slim. It's a dangerous and volatile world and he knows he'll probably never stop fighting. But he fights for the life he could have, someday. He also loves the wilds too much, out on the bleak expanse of Mars, the cold snows of Europa or the various golden age ruins on Earth, the call of adventure is something cayde will always answer, an adrenaline junky at heart.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There are few reasons I can think cayde would break up with you, your safety being the main one. Maybe an argument broke out about how reckless you were being or how reckless he was being, he isn't known for his sense of self-preservation. Maybe he thinks you deserve better, better than he can give and no matter how much you plead and beg it's hard to change his mind. He would talk to you; he'd at least have the nerve to break up with you face to face. He'd make a point of avoiding you as much as possible after.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment is a tricky one, cayde but he's an all-or-nothing guy. Once he knows you're the one, the one he can trust, the one that can keep up with him, the one he can confide him, then he's there. Cayde wouldn't want to get married soon, the tower is a hectic place and there's always a new threat on the horizon, but he'd promise you one day, when the fighting stops, then, then you can tie the knot. It's a bittersweet promise that you often doubt will ever come to light but right now you have each other, facing the dangers of the system together.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

The first time cayde went to hug you, he accidentally bashed you with his horn, a bright red and sore mark on your cheek. After that, he's a little more cautious with his enthusiasm...a little.

When you’re hanging out together in your private space cayde isn't opposed to the occasional tickle fight and rough and tumble. (He will never admit that he, an exo, has a ticklish spot but you know the truth. Tickle a sensitive patch of silicone by his hip and he's a mess)

But when you're feeling down, the pressures of the tower getting to you, your injured or it's that time of month, he treats you like glass. Like you're the most precious thing he's laid his hands on, swaddling you in blankets and wrapping his arms around you. He speaks in low soothing tones and rocks you gently, he’ll likely order you both ramen and put on your favourite holotape.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Cayde is a big hugger when it comes to those he truly cares about. Most times he plays it off as a joke when he opens his arms and says "Hugs?" But he'll never admit the glee it brings when someone (especially you) steps into his outstretched arms.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Cayde definitely overthinks it. He spends nights losing sleep questioning if he truly feels love or just a ghost of what his human consciousness thought as love. He overthinks saying it to you, it’s only when you're about to do some stupid and possibly self-sacrificing thing on a mission that it's blurted out in desperate panic at the thought of never being able to tell you again. He’ll be grabbing you by the shoulders and you can see the desperation in his face.

After the mission cayde won't mention it unless you do. If you ignore it he'll become a little more reclusive, not as touchy-feely any more.

 But if you do, and you reciprocate his feelings, a stupid grin will grow on his face and no matter where or who is watching he's grabbing your face and kissing you with all the pent-up emotion he's been bottling since the friendship morphed into more confusing feelings, feelings of wanting…well, more.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Cayde is a very self-assured guardian, and he trusts you. He knows that you'd never do anything to betray him...Its other people he doesn't trust. Not that he doesn't think you can't stick up for yourself or know when someone is getting a little TOO cosy, but he will step in now and again. He’d saunter over with his usual charm, an arm winding around your waist. "Who’s this, dollface?" he'd ask sweetly while eyeing the other guardian, a clear message. she’s mine. back off

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

At first, Cayde was slightly worried about kissing you for the first time. Had you ever kissed an Exo before? Would you want to? When he begins to develop feelings for you, he often finds himself thinking about what it would be like if it finally happens, your soft lips against his.... Lips? Face plates? Whatever people choose to call them.

Your first kiss likely happens in the heat of the moment, relieved after a high-stakes mission together and unable to contain himself anymore, his leather-gloved hands find your cheeks, pulling you up into a passionate kiss. It was a new experience, his 'lips' were softer, smoother than you imagined an exos to be. When the kiss finally breaks you are both breathless, gazing at one another.

After this cayde would steal kisses occasionally. He was surprisingly good at sneaking kisses while you were both out and about the tower. Pulling you into hidden alcoves, sneaky chaste kisses while Zavala is turned away giving long speeches about.... something neither of you remembers.

When the pair of you are in the privacy of your homes cayde will take his time, he loves kissing any bit of you he can get to. lips, cheeks, neck, anywhere. Likewise, he loves feeling your lips on him, when you swoop in to kiss his cheek when you're busy in the kitchen, his chest when you're curled up in bed, he's addicted to the feel of your lips on him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Cayde doesn't get many opportunities to be around children. Often his interactions are fleeting waves as he walks the last city on patrol or when disaster has struck and he's ushering frightened families to safety, trying to treasure them. When you see these rare moments, you don't miss how his demeanour softens slightly but there's a ... melancholy beneath it.

however every month or so cayde gets plenty of time to spend with children..he has to coach his dodgeball team after all. it is very early on that cayde tells you about how he beat Shaxx and convinced the titan to play dodgeball with the children of the Last City. Cayde cant help but laugh when the children he's coaching meet you for the first time and start singing teasing songs about kissing in trees. these are usually followed up by cayde with an over-exaggerated eyebrow wiggle and "you know... I know some pretty good trees" whispered between barely held-back giggles.

Cayde's little team love you and the Hunter Vanguard totally hasn't gotten everyone team shirts. yours may or may not say property of cayde somewhere either hidden or in massive letters on the back, hell say its a printing error...it totally wasnt.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

If you're not both on some sort of mission or patrol, you normally wake up in an empty bed, cayde likely already off to perform his vanguard duties.

If you’re both up bright and early, he’ll wake you with a gentle shake and soft words. His voice is not warmed, up its lower, a little staticky and it sends shivers through you. Once you’re both dressed he’ll make you coffee and ask about your jobs for the day before wishing you a safe day and kissing you softly.

If both of you have a rare day when neither of you has morning commitments, it's the sun peaking lazily through the blinds that wakes you, Caydes arms around you securely. If you try to get up and escape the cocoon of warmth, the response from him will be a groan of protest as he pulls you back towards him, nuzzling into you and murmuring "Stay" and how could you resist such a request?

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights where you can stay up late with no commitments the next morning are spent either in a bar somewhere in the last city, hidden away in a corner. or you would spend it in your room. drinking, playing cards, or just cuddling while some old golden-age holotapes play.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes a long time. There are some things even Zavala and Ikora aren't privy to. One of those things being Cayde's journal and ace. He very slowly begins opening up, the charismatic and charming mask slipping slightly to show you the vulnerable and scarred exo beneath. Eventually, after a few years, cayde will tell you about Ace and his journals over a quiet drink away from other prying ears. It's a few years after this that he actually lets you read them.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Cayde inwardly is a patient man. He'll make jokes about how long things are taking, and pester people, normally Zavala but part of being a hunter is control and knowing when to wait for the best moment to strike.

That doesn't mean people don't push his buttons sometimes. He doesn't take kindly to threats or things bothering those he holds dear, namely you. Cayde is quick to shut it down.

You rarely see cayde truly angry, pissed yes, irritated also yes. But angry, that's a rare 'treat'. He's not a loud angry person but the type who when they go silent you know shit is about to hit the fan. A quiet cayde is a dangerous cayde.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Cayde remembers most things, his position as hunter vanguard means he's under a lot of pressure to remember things such as patrols, Bounties and planning the next missions but he'll make an effort to remember dates. Anniversaries, birthdays, and other important dates he comics to memory. He tries to remember your favourite foods so he can surprise you with dinner sometimes.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You were both so tired. Tried, worn out and stressed. You were returning from a mission that had gone south quickly and from your seat behind him you could hear his leather gloves creak in protest at his tight grip on the controls as he piloted the ship. You'd both been in foul moods, sleep-deprived and aching, the mission had been filled with snappy retorts and growled orders. You hadn't spoken since getting on the ship. The silence was broken by Zavala on the coms ordering for your return, Cayde interrupts, slamming a finger on the disconnect button. "Fuck this" he grows and turns the ship around.

Minutes later you finally touch down somewhere and neither of you moves, he slumps back into his seat. " 'm sorry" he murmurs, not turning to look at you. His voice is quiet, remorseful. You ask where you are, and he signals to the exit of the ship. Once you disembark you find yourself in a forest clearing, a lean-to was haphazardly built against a tree, filled with a few caches, chairs and supply boxes. "Little private hideaway. Sometimes I just...need somewhere" he says leading you to a chair.

He pours you a glass of something, it's strong and warms your throat on the way down. You stay there that night, laid out on a blanket drinking and just talking. Wrapped up in one another under the stars. That's the night he tells you about Andal, about Ace and his journals. The night he truly realises how much you mean to him and how much he can't let you go.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Cayde outwardly is about what you would expect when someone's in a relationship. He's cool and collected and shows he knows you can handle yourself. But inside that exo brain is a totally different story. He knows every mission you're going on location and time. He's committing your ship, sparrow and every detail of your armour to memory, God forbid he ever have to look for it, wreckage or otherwise.

If you're on a mission with him, he's first through every doorway, round every corner and in every room. He plays it off as being the leader of the fire team and thus leading. But really, it's to make sure if there's a trap, a hidden danger or an enemy and you’re both caught unaware it's not you who gets the hit.

If he's having particularly bad days after nightmares about Andal and other lost friends, he might slip a tracker into your gear in case something happens to you. When you found it, you were livid at first. You let him explain, panicked words tumbling out promising it wasn’t out of worry of you being unfaithful but fear of actually losing you in that big expanse outside your cosy apartment. After that, you Make sure your ghost sends cayde frequent updates on your location while you're on missions to cayde.

You've saved Caydes ass more times than either of you can count. Every time you do there's a look in his eye. One that took you a while to decipher but when you did you realised it was a mix of pride and trust. He knows you have his 6. And he'll never admit how hot it is when you get angry at whatever it is threatening his life and subsequently beating it into a pulp just for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Caydes' love langue is acts of service and physical touch.

Cayde would try, bless him. He'd try so hard but in the chaos, it would be difficult. Your odd and often full schedules rarely match up but when they do he's making plans, and dates, he's buying you flowers, and gifts.

Everyday tasks like making your coffee, and running you a bath when you return from a long day among others are a regular when it comes to cayde.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He’s incredibly self-sacrificing when it comes to fighting the good fight. Even if it means him stumbling in at 3 am, beaten and tired. This also manifests in your relationship sometimes taking a backseat, you understood of course but that doesn't mean you didn't miss him.

Other than that he is terrible at taking care of himself unless its initiated by you, eating, sleeping and sometimes bathing taking a back seat in order to do his job.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

While he’s not too concerned too much with his looks, he does like to keep looking good. He uses wax on his metal plating and makes sure his armour is in good spec. When the two of you began getting closer cayde began to care a little more. At first, it was subconscious, you were his friend, and he didn't want to look like a scruff. But then he found himself fussing over his cloak in his reflection before he would go to see you and maybe he had even bought a new cologne and hoped you'd get close enough to notice.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

At first no. cayde was certain about that. Until long missions felt longer, when you were away the bed felt emptier. His hand felt barren without his queen of hearts and he realises that you are his safe space, his respite and he wants to be that for you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Cayde will never admit this out loud, but he loves a little pampering now and again. You heard him mention offhand to another exo about a little place in the bazaar that does an exo wax that he swears by. That evening you surprised him with a home-cooked meal and candles. After you led him to the bed and helped him out of his armour. He was surprised when you pulled out the exo wax, he hadn't directly told you and he won't admit how much it meant. By the time you finished gently massaging the wax onto him, he was asleep, blissed out from the attention and much-needed care.

Sundance ADORES you. Cayde's little light had liked you the moment they witnessed the two of you meet and cayde loves hates it. You and Sundance are little sass machines sometimes and cayde is often the object of your laughter. Sundance loves that you take care of cayde, especially when he won't. Cayde confided in Sundance when he began feeling feelings more than friendship and the little ghost was thrilled. Often when cayde is busy pouring over maps and reports, Sundance will float by you, or perch on your shoulder or lap to keep you company.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Cayde isn't a fan of people who put others down, especially if those people are guardians who were resurrected recently. He has a protective streak when it comes to new lights and finds people who actively put them down or treat them with disdain to be unlikeable.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Cayde is a light sleeper. When you’re out on missions constantly God knows where you need to be alert and ready. This twinned with occasional nightmares and his vanguard duties means his sleep schedule is horrible. Some nights you wake to rustling covers, a bleary-eyed cayde slipping into bed at 3 am, some mornings you find him where you had left him the night before, awake and pouring over maps or reports and some nights the bad coupling in his leg gives him spasms keeping him awake.

He appreciates any attachments at helping him sleep, hot cocoa in the evening as you coax him to bed, holding him close, white noise and even reading to him, he just likes the sound of your voice. And every night after he sleeps soundly.

[alanjeffbrainrot]

AJ Pregnancy Shenanigans Pt. 2

CW// nsfw, mpreg, breeding kink, minors DNI

To read pt. 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~ Find it on AO3

Word count: 2.4k

My masterlist

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

Jeff wasn’t sure what to expect when he found out he was pregnant but he wasn’t banking on Alan becoming incredibly territorial, the alpha more often than not touching him in one way or another.

The first day Jeff goes back to the garage (Alan took a few days off with him, knowing his alpha wouldn’t want Jeff around anyone else for a bit) Alan traps him against their front door before leaving. His mouth goes straight for Jeff’s scent gland kissing, sucking, and nipping slightly at it. The omega melts at the attention, loving the feeling of his alpha staking his claim, biting his lip to try and keep himself from making any noise.

Jeff’s hands come up and grip Alan’s hips, pulling him closer, wanting to lose himself in the feeling. “Alan” he breathes out, just to get a hum in response as alan switches to the other side of Jeff’s neck, “Alan” he tries again, “we need to go to work or we’re never going to make it.”

A small growl leaves the alpha as he presses himself closer. He finally pulls his face away to look Jeff in the eyes, a thrum of desire running through both of their bodies. “Would it really be that bad ?” Alan asks, going straight back to what he was doing.

“Babe has been running the garage for three days Lung, he’s gonna come to find us if we don’t come in today and I dont particularly want Charlie walking in while we’re…” he pauses for a second, moving one of his hands from Alan’s waist up to his chest, “indisposed.” He whispers against Alan’s ear before pushing the alpha away from him.

Groaning, Alan concedes, shaking his head while chuckling. “I guess you got me there nu. We’ll pick this up later” he says, winking at Jeff and moving to finish grabbing his wallet and keys. Oh boy, Jeff thinks, he’s going to be a handful now won’t he.

Alan managed to get through the day, only growling at a mechanic once when they stepped a bit too close to Jeff. Once the employees left, and it was just the gang sitting around chatting (re: Charlie, Babe, North, Sonic, Kim, Kenta, and Way), Charlie moves to be next to jeff and fixes him with a pointed stare.

“What” jeff asks, squirming under his gaze.

“You were gone for days and you reek of Alan. What’s going on.” Charlie tried to be discreet, he really did, but given North and Sonic were in the room that really wasn’t an option.

“And Lung growled at someone !! Seriously !! He hasn’t been this territorial since right before you got together.” North points out, earning a smack on the back of his head from the alpha in question.

“North has a point though” Babe chimes in, “you didn’t leave his side at all today.”

The group all falls silent, looking between the couple. Jeff sighs, rubbing his eyes before getting up to stand next to Alan. “Should we just tell them” he mutters. They had only talked briefly about when to tell the team but had both landed on wanting to give it a few weeks before announcing anything.

While they’re looking at eachother, babe lifts his nose and subtly scents the air, eyes going wide when he notices the slightly milky tinge to Jeff’s normal peach scent. Not noticeable to anyone else, given Alan scenting him periodically during the day, but because of his senses Babe is able to catch the new note in the omegas scent. Babe’s eyes go wide as he puts two and two together, reaching his hand out to grip Charlie’s. Charlie looks at him confused before directing his attention back on his brother.

But Jeff happens to catch his reaction, turning red and burying himself in Alan’s chest, knowing the racer has just worked out their secret. “I’m pregnant” he mumbles, unwilling to face the team. Alan wraps his arms around the omega, letting him nestle in before looking back at the team.

“What ?” Charlie asks, leaning in.

Jeff nods into Alan’s chest, giving the alpha permission to take over the conversation. “We’re expecting, Charlie. Jeff’s pregnant.”

Nobody moves for a few seconds, processing what their head alpha had just said before chaos broke loose. Charlie, Babe, North, Sonic, and Way all jumped up to surround the couple. Charlie pulled Jeff into a hug while the other four surrounded Alan, shouting congratulations and damn near tackling the man to the ground in a group hug. From over Charlie’s shoulder, jeff catches Kenta’s eyes which were shiny with tears. A genuine smile, one saved only for Jeff and Kim, warming his face as he leaned into Kim’s side. Kim himself was smiling, but his focus wasn’t on Jeff. He was smiling down at Kenta while he brings his arm up around his shoulder, pulling the quiet man into his side. Jeff’s heart warms at the sight.

His attention is brought back to Charlie as he pulls back. “I’m so happy for you nu. You two are going to be great parents.” The two brothers take a minute, looking over at the rest of their pack. Jeff chuckles seeing Alan rough housing with his gang of misfits.

As if sensing Jeff’s eyes on him, alan looks up and smiles at his omega. He manages to settle the others before pulling Jeff back into his arms, jeff leaning in and enjoying the closeness with his alpha and his pack.

“We have to celebrate” sonic shouts, bouncing beside north.

“Maybe later” Alan says, tightening his hold around jeff, “I should get jeff home.”

Wolf whistles are heard throughout the garage as Alan begins gathering their things, jeff groaning and hiding his face, wishing to be anywhere but there.

Once Alan’s ready they say their goodbyes, getting final congratulations from the pack before beginning to walk out of the garage. “Don’t be too hard on him Alan” the two hear Babe shout before the group bursts out into laughter. Alan flips him off over his head before finally walking out of the garage.

The entire ride home Jeff’s mind is reeling with what he wants to do, what he wants Alan to do to him, once they make it.

As soon as they make it through the front door, Jeff is right back where he started his morning. His back pressed up against the door with Alan caging him in face straight back in his neck working on an impressive hickey directly on his scent gland. Jeff moans, gripping the sides of Alan’s t-shirt and pulling his hips forward, seeking any type of friction he can get.

“God you smell fucking delicious” Alan growls, “don’t think I can get enough of you.” Alan pulls back, examining his work and making a low and pleased growling sound. He grabs the hem of Jeff’s shirt, pulling it up and over the man’s head before sinking to his knees and placing kisses all over his bare stomach. “I can’t wait for you to start showing, everyone will be able to tell that your mine.” Alan emphasizes his words by nipping at Jeff’s flat stomach, forcing a high pitched while from the man.

Alan’s hands come up, unbuttoning Jeff’s pants and yanking them down his legs along with his underwear, freeing his leaking erection. Alan glances up at jeff before swallowing him whole. Jeff moans, head thumping against the door as he pulls at the alphas hair.

Alan hums at the feeling, sending waves of pleasure up the omegas spine. The alpha begins bobbing his head, occasionally pulling up to suck at the tip before taking the omega back down his throat. Jeff has his eyes trained down, watching his alpha on his knees.

“Fuck, phi” Jeff moans out, beginning to rock his hips forward, chasing the heat of his alphas mouth. Jeff tugs on Alan’s hair again, trying to pull him off as he feels himself get closer to his release. “Alan” he pants, “I’m gonna cum”. That just spurs him on, doubling down his efforts while bringing a hand up to kneed at Jeff’s ass before digging his fingers into the flesh, finally getting to feel the slick absolutely dripping from Jeff at this point.

Jeff is right on the edge when he feels two fingers plunge into his hole. He lets out a final wrecked moan at the intrusion, crashing over the edge and spilling down Alan’s throat who happily swallows around Jeff’s cock, taking everything.

Alan finally pulls off, placing a final kiss on the tip before standing up and licking his lips, eyes trained on the omega with a dark and predatory gaze. Jeff is still leaned against the door, desperately trying to catch his breath while staring at the man in front of him. “Lung” he breaths out, “take your clothes off. I still need you”.

Alan immediately begins ripping his clothes off as Jeff is finally stepping out of his pants and boxers, leaving both men bare. Without words Jeff reaches his arms up, Alan immediately understanding and lifting him up. Before he begins walking, Alan pouts up at the omega, “kiss me ?”

Rolling his eyes at his sappy alpha, Jeff leans down and connects their lips, the two lazily making out as Alan navigates his house by memory.

Alan lays the omega out on their bed, taking a moment to just appreciate the view in front of him. Jeff squirms at the attention. “Please alan, need you.”

“You have me baby” alan replies while caressing every inch of skin on Jeff’s smooth legs before his hands land on the boys stomach. “Can’t wait to see you” Alan mutters, brain seemingly back on the idea of when Jeff will finally be showing, “round with my pups. God you’re so perfect.” Alan looks up, locking eyes with Jeff, “my perfect little omega, yeah ?”

“Yours” Jeff repeats, “only yours.”

Alan surges up, roughly kissing Jeff while two fingers once again make their way into Jeff’s tight heat, slowly working him open. After a minute Jeff begins wiggling his hips, gasping out a small “more” in between kisses. Alan adds another finger, slowly scissoring his fingers open as Jeff’s slick begins making its way down his wrist.

Jeff seems to get impatient, whining and grinding down more. “Alan, please” Jeff says, pulling away from the kiss and pouting at the man above him.

Alan can’t resist laying a final sweet kiss on Jeff’s lips before pulling back and slowly sliding his fingers out of Jeff. He brings his hand own to his own cock, pumping himself a few times to relieve some of the tension and slick himself up. Alan grabs Jeff’s legs and put them over his shoulders leaning forward and lining himself up.

Locking eyes with the omega, Alan whispers an “I love you” before slowly sinking into Jeff, inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed. They both let out a relieved breath, Jeff basking in the slight stretch he feels over Alan’s size.

After a few seconds the two lock eyes and Jeff nods, Alan pulling almost completely out before pushing back in. He begins a steady rhythm, enjoying the feeling of jeff surrounding him and the knowledge that he’s the only one that gets to take the omega apart in this way.

“Gonna fuck you full” Alan snarls out, alpha instincts taking over, “keep you round with my pups all the time”

Jeff throws his head back, overwhelmed with pleasure as he can feel his second orgasm of the night building. “Alpha” he cries out “need it, please, need your knot.”

Alan speeds up, pounding into the omega as he chases his own release. He shifts his hips, beginning to hit Jeff’s prostate head on with each thrust.

“Fuck !” Jeff screams, “please, please, right there”. Jeff’s knows he’s rambling at this point, begging if he was being honest, but at this point he didn’t care. He knew what he needed. He needed his alpha to knot him, needed to come again, needed Alan to bite him.

As soon as the thought enters his mind, Jeff lets out a broken sob and cums untouched, streaking his chest and causing him to clench around Alan’s cock.

“Oh fuck” Alan moans at the new feeling as well as the image of his omega cumming so suddenly, cock still twitching between them. “I’m close baby” he whispers out, leaning down to kiss away the tears that had begun falling down Jeff’s cheeks without losing his pace.

A few thrusts later, Alan’s knot begins catching on Jeff’s rim before he pushes it fully in, knot popping while the alpha moans loudly. He continues rocking forward, riding out his orgasm while quiet whimpers are coming from Jeff, just on the cusp of uncomfortable overstimulation.

Alan colapses forward, caging the omega in while peppering kisses all over the omegas face. “So good, so perfect for me.” They lay there for a few minutes, Alan whispering praises while they both catch their breath. Once his knot goes down, Alan pulls out and shuffles them around so Jeff is laying on his chest, face tucked into the alphas neck purring quietly. Both of them just enjoying the closeness.

“Alan” Jeff calls quietly, “would you ever consider… mating me?”

Alan’s arms immediately tighten around the omega, breath hitching as he looks down. “Jeff, baby, look at me” he says, waiting until Jeff raises his eyes, “I would love nothing more than to have you as my mate.” He plants a soft kiss on Jeff’s lips before continuing, “I want to build a family with you. Keep you close, make sure everyone knows your mine. You know…” Alan says, voice dropping an octave while smirking, “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to keep you full with my pups.”

“God” Jeff groans out, pushing away from the alphas chest and rolling over as if he was annoyed but the tips of his ears slowly turning red was a dead giveaway to him just being embarrassed at how brazen his alpha could be.

Alan let’s put a loud laugh at the reaction before catching the small omega around the waist and pulling his back to his chest, hands fully encompassing Jeff’s small stomach. “I love you Jeff, that’s never going to change. Just tell me when you want me and I’ll make you mine officially.”

Heat spreads through Jeff’s chest at Alan’s declaration. “I love you too” he whispers, playing with Alans fingers.

Alan detached himself from Jeff’s back, standing up before lifting him up bridal style and begins carrying him to the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle. Yeah ?”

Jeff tightens his arms around Alan’s neck, sleepily letting out a hum of agreement, really just enjoying being close to his alpha.

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

A/N: holy shit that ended up a lot longer than I expected it to 😭😭 I’m honestly enjoying writing this so I may continue with a part 3 but I think the next longer fic will be the student/teacher au 🤌🏻

Hope y’all enjoyed !

[the-final-sif]

In a period where we are seeing increasing levels of bad faith takes, particularly from right wing assholes/terfs/nazis/etc, I think it's time that people on the left learn about eating the red card. The best example I've heard of shrugging off fake power structures.

Transcript below the cut.

Mike: Sure.

Dan: Mhm. So did you say any of those things by the way?

Mike: Nope. I didn't say any of that.

Jordan: Maybe next time.

Dan: Interesting.

Mike: Maybe next time. [crosstalk with Jordan], maybe cnn can invite me on and give me a shot-

Jordan [crosstalk with Mike]: Next time you're on CNN, give it a try.

Mike: I will say all those things, but that won't matter because I'll just have not said something else.

Jordan: No it won't.

Dan: Yeah. Go on and say, just do a satanic ritual on air and see- see how he plays that one.

Jordan: That's where I feel like we're like we're at-

Dan: He'll probably ignore it.

Jordan: I feel like we're all in eat the red card territory. You know, like if somebody says, "Oh, you, you're, you lied about this." Just be like, yeah, you're fucking right. I did. And I'll do it to your face and your mom's face! Fuck you!

Dan: Is that, is that a reference to my story?

Jordan: Yeah.

Dan: Okay. I didn't know if that-

Jordan: That resonated with me.

Dan: I didn't know if that was like vernacular-

Jordan: No, no, for me-

Dan: Wow.

Jordan: Yeah, that story is stuck with me forever.

Dan: That's pretty sweet.

Jordan: I love that story.

Dan: So Mike, I'll give you the short version of this.

Mike: Okay.

Jordan: When I was a kid, my parents only let us play soccer because the other games were like, I don't know, not European enough or something.

Mike: Oh, sure, okay.

Dan: We, we would play and on my brother's team, there was this guy who was kind of a bad-ass. And so in one game, he got a yellow card and he ate it.

Mike: Wow.

Dan: And so immediately the ref pulled out a red card, gave it to him, and he ate that too.

Mike:: Yeah.

Jordan: Like- what do you- See, I feel like that's just such a great story of like, what did you think was going to happen? You thought that you would exercise your real authority finally. And the truth is you have none because I'm going to eat this red fucking card and then walk away. You're nothing to me. Yeah.

Dan: So that, in sort of the metaphor, that is doing a satanic ritual on CNN.

Jordan: Yeah, totally. Absolutely. Yeah!

Jordan: Oh, they say he does satanic rituals. Fucking- let's see if I can do one! If you think satanic rituals are real and you believe that I do them,then should I do one on TV? It should work.

Mike: Yep.

Jordan: So eat the red card, man!

Dan: Don't do that.

Jordan: See if you can summon a demon.

Dan: Mike, don't do this.

Jordan: Summon a demon, Mike. Mike summon a demon.

Dan: There's an angel in a, uh, pride, uh, devil month on your shoulder.

Mike: Pride demon month- gotta go out in my pride demon month shirt?

Jordan: Angel month isn't until August. You've still got a couple of days.

[clatterbane]

My new gear, y'all! Ain't it lovely.

I am not going to model it even on here, because there are too many damn weirdos around. No free pics showing the stump at all from me. (Though, I might be able to get a pretty lucrative side business going--if the whole idea didn't creep me right the fuck out so bad. Even as the sorta dykey middle-aged nerd that I am.)

But, the appointment did turn out pretty well!

(Again, with the aid of sometimes wonky autotranslate.)

So yeah, they did seem to think that most of what I actually need at this point is to build up stamina up on my feet again. Which is pretty much my take on it too. With the rehab part to start once they get the initial custom leg fabricated.

In the meantime, they did send me home with silicone liners in a couple of sizes to get used to wearing. At no point did I roll the things onto my arm; that was one of the funky translations. You do get them on by turning them inside out and then rolling them on like the thickest, most unwieldy compression sock or nylon stocking/tights you can imagine.

Besides the getting accustomed to wearing them part, evidently they just don't use the fabric "stump shrinker" compression socks at all locally. (Which are standard a lot of other places.) The two specialist staff I was dealing with today had no idea what that was when I asked about it, even after I pulled up pics in case it might be a communication thing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Complete sidenote: Looks like I will have to measure myself and buy some out of pocket after all! The things are useful for helping keep a lid on nerve pain, besides "just" the compression overnight and when you're letting your leg breathe out of a liner.)

Nope, they're putting people straight into the sweaty silicone liner sleeves, generally within a few days after surgery. And entirely relying on that for compression. After this amount of time, my stump has indeed already atrophied a lot and there hasn't been any swelling for quite a long while. But, I never got fitted with any compression anything before we left the UK. And they wanted to give my leg at least a few weeks of regular compression before even starring to fit the first socket for the aftermarket leg.

Putting the smaller size liner on at first did almost have me throwing up in the floor. Not in small part because they had me try it RIGHT AFTER one of them had been hands-on examining the stump and purposely trying to trigger the nerve pain! 🤬 (For which I have been totally unmedicated since 2021, I might add. Which is unusual.) They did not seem to consider that this might not be ideal. (!)

Yeah, extremely tight kinda thick silicone did not feel great after that. The nerve pain was already VERY ANGRY when it went on. And I really couldn't keep a straight face.

The one size up was tolerable then, so they sent both with me. I figure the tighter one will probably be fine other than sensory badness when the damaged nerves are not in full Hulk Mode.

I am apparently supposed to work up to wearing the things for 3-4 hours straight, two periods a day.

I did not much like the apparent lack of understanding of how nerve pain works, or the perceived pressure to white knuckle through it. Or, you know, just not have any. Much less coming from people whose whole job is working with amputees. (Just try chopping somebody's limb off without doing significant nerve damage in the process...)

Again, there may have been some communication issues thrown in too. But the (pretty direct) message I was hearing was "How do you expect to use a prosthesis, if you're gonna be such a whiny baby about a liner sleeve?"

But, we'll see. I am really hoping that's not an indication of what to expect, moving forward through this whole process.

I may also end up needing to just ask who I need to talk to, in order to get back on some meds. AFAICT, that is the team that's supposed to handle all of this stuff.

I don't particularly want to live with Lyrica side effects again, but it did help some with the other neuropathy besides the directly sliced nerve bullshit. Even more in combination with the Tramadol, but good fucking luck with that here from experience to date. I am just about willing to deal with the dumb and tired, if it means the difference between excruciating nerve pain on the daily and not.

At any rate, next stop after they decide my stump is compressed enough is apparently a socket fitting. Where hopefully I will be able to discuss options more with a prosthetist.

Today they were also pushing pretty hard toward a suspension (attachment) system that I don't think I particularly want from listening to actual amputees with experience of different types. I want to know what models of ankle and foot they're proposing to give me.

And of course I also want to make damned sure that they don't just automatically default to the horrible uncanny "flesh" tone components that apparently some older people in particular do want.

Today they brought out an example leg very much like what this prosthetist is also using for demonstration purposes here--and I was seriously creeped out enough that I resisted looking at or touching the thing. (They ended up handing it to me, whether I wanted anything to do with it or not.)

It's not the fact that it is a prosthetic leg that gives me the willies, at all. It is totally the uncanny mannequin parts effect. And I would really prefer to be able to use whatever leg and foot that I do end up with.

[breannasfluff]

By the Heat of the Fire

There’s something decadent about staying inside on a rainy fall day with a fire. Legend arches his wings and rolls closer. Ravio gives a disgruntled whistle when a wing flops over his face.

Legend ignores him and opens one eye to look at the fireplace. “Need another log.”

“Then put one in.” Ravio pulls his wing over his face.

“I put in the last one.”

“Lazy.”

“You calling me lazy?”

One eye glares back at the vet. “Yes. L-A-Z-Y.”

Legend moans and rolls, whacking his flockmate with his primaries, but pulls himself off the floor and adds some more logs to the fire. He makes it a grand total of three steps—just far enough to not set feathers on fire—before collapsing.

Fortunately for him, it’s on top of Ravio. Unfortunately for the merchant…it’s on top of Ravio. He squawks and thrashes slightly until Legend shifts and unpins a wing.

“Soft feathers,” he mutters and rubs his face against one. They gleam in the dim light; both of them preened to perfection and then some.

Ravio snorts but stops struggling. “Flattery isn’t going to win you any points, Mr. Hero.”

“Does it win me a napping spot?”

“No.”

“What if I preen your wings first.”

“No.”

“With oil?”

“…no.”

Legend pulls out his ace. “What about a shoulder rub?”

Ravio puffs, feathers fluffing, and the vet’s grin edges on feral. The satin bowerbird can’t see him, face down on the floor, so it doesn’t matter.

“Fiiiiine.” Ravio pulls the word out like taffy, but it’s got an underlying warble that says he would very much like a massage.

Legend pulls himself off Ravio’s wing fully to grab one of the nearby lotion pots. Then he steps carefully over the merchant’s back as he raises his wings. It takes some careful nudging of his knees to sit and tuck them under feathers so he doesn’t pinch one on accident.

Really good back massages—the ones that can reach the flight muscles in the back—are hard to do when the recipient is sitting on a stool. Lying down with someone else on top of you? That’s reserved for flock.

The lotion warms quickly in his palms and he unsnaps the back of Ravio’s shirt before he stains it with oil. The first pass of his fingers is to spread lotion and feel for knots, but the bowerbird goes limp anyway.

“You better be trading me when I’m done,” he says, poking the base of one wing to make it twitch.

Ravio mumbles something into the rug that the vet takes as a yes.

His back isn’t too bad; they haven’t been flying much with all the rain. Still, it helps to massage the muscles and keep them loose during periods of inactivity. When Legend hits a knot, the merchant gives a sharp little whistle. He stops to focus on the spot until the tension eases.

By the time he’s done, the satin bowerbird is fully limp and purring. Legend wipes his hands on his arms and does up the shirt snaps. Then, with a devious smile, he sinks his feathers into the scapular feathers at the base of Ravio’s wings until they touch skin.

Ravio shrieks, wings going straight up and flaring out. The vat laughs so hard he nearly falls as he climbs off.

“You—! Don’t do that, Link! That’s so—so—just don’t!” The bowerbird dissolves into wordless shrieks and scolding, popping off the floor.

Legend gives him a particularly smug look. “Had to make sure you didn’t fall asleep before my massage.”

He gets a face full of feathers, but it’s worth it.

Ravio brings in mugs of cold cider before he switches Legend, so the merchant can’t be too mad. The vets commandeered the prime spot on the rug; just far enough from fire not to roast, but close enough to relax in the heat.

The satin bowerbird gives a little whistle before starting on a leg. While Legend enjoys a back massage as much as any avian, his scars appreciate the attention in the rainy weather. The heat of the fire loosened him enough that he could enjoy the massage with only the occasional wince.

“What do you think the others are doing?” He obligingly moves a wing so the merchant can run the heel of his hand along a scar across his lower back.

“Hmm.” Another long pull of the muscle. “Wild and Hyrule have replaced me with Four, who will put up with the attention for a short period of time, at least. Four is off harassing some poor employee he’s yet to talk an ear off of. Wind…is probably taking a flight to stretch his wings and rubbing in to Sky how waterproof he is. Sky’s napping, or playing with the new litter of puppies with Twilight.”

“Wing,” Ravio says, and taps on his shoulder to get him to shift. There’s a scar on the muscle under his marginal feathers that benefits from some attention. The merchant is very careful to avoid the scapulars—typical.

“Who else…” Legend chirps softly as Ravio hits some tightness, then continues. “Wars is lurking on the edges trying to pretend he doesn’t want to be involved without actually being involved. And Time’s lounging on the couch, trying to tempt Warriors to join him.”

“And you’re here. With me.”

“With you,” he agrees easily.

Ravio moves on to his shoulders and oh—that does feel divine. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have stayed with them at the inn?”

“And miss out on seeing you? No way. I’m stuck with those featherheads too much already.” The insult holds not heat; Legend is too fond of his flock to do otherwise.

Still, it’s nice to have some quiet time with Ravio. The merchant is flock, too, and was flock first. Having the big flock stay at his house is always a loud, rambunctious time with little privacy. Alone, there’s no one to tease him about being soft.

And if it means he gets to watch Ravio flash his secondaries? Well, that’s just a bonus.

[thereaderinsertlady]

🎃 meta knight x reader nsfw, get creative 😳😳😳

Ofc!! I ceeertainly did get creative lmao. No inherent smut, but is somewhat implied! Also also, the spelling mistakes in the text messages are all on purpose! Here's the link on ao3, and I hope you enjoy!

Meta Knight x Reader - Can't Sleep? (Semi-NSFW)

It was incredibly late at night.

And you still couldn’t sleep.

You glared at the ceiling of your bedroom, finished with shifting around to find new ways to become more comfortable. No matter what you did, you just couldn’t go to sleep. And it was annoying the fuck out of you.

“Ugh…” You rubbed your face, leaning over to grab your phone to squint at the time. It was three in the morning. “Lovely…”

After a moment, you opened up the messaging app, staring blankly at it. You were bored, and likely weren’t going to go to sleep… Would anyone else be awake right now? Would your boyfriend be awake?

You slightly giggled to yourself while beginning to write a message to him, half delirious from sleep deprivation.

You: Hey, are you awake?

You stared at the screen… and stared… and stared… before eventually pouting. Oookay, it seems like Meta Knight was not awake.

Clicking off the messaging app, you instead went to play a mobile game to busy your mind, having nothing better to do.

As you immersed yourself in the mobile game, the minutes seemed to drag on. The glow from the screen illuminated your face, casting a bluish tint across the room. Your mind was still buzzing, refusing to succumb to the beckoning of sleep.

Just as you were engrossed in a particularly challenging part of the game, a soft chime signaled an incoming message. Startled, you quickly switched back to the messaging app to see who had messaged you.

Knighty-Knight: Can’t sleep?

You groaned, looking at the nickname you had set for him– and totally didn’t forget you had put him as that. You took a moment to respond, not bothering to put apostrophes or periods at the end of the message. Auto correct can be annoying, so you turned it off for the messaging app.

You: Nooo, I couldnt and I dont know why either. I had a busy day. I did stuffs. All things considered I should be tired

You: Also, what took you forever to respond?

Knighty-Knight: I was doing something. And, perhaps you need to wear yourself some other way.

You: busy doin what.? Playing with yourself?

When it took him a while to respond, you giggled to yourself. 

You: You usually aren’t up this laaate

Knighty-Knight: I was fixing up my armor. 

You: why Did it need fixing up

Knighty-Knight: Sparring got a little too intense and ran later than it usually does.

You lowered your bottom lip, feeling bad for Kirby. The poor boy needed some rest– Meta Knight has been running him dry lately.

You: You need to take that boy to an ice cream parlur 

You: parlor? However its spelt

Knighty-Knight: Parlor. 

As you continued your conversation with Meta Knight, the late-night banter brought a playful element to your otherwise sleep-deprived state. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't help but smile at his responses.

Knighty-Knight: You really need to sleep. 

You: i caaant. I really cant. It

You: oops sent that early- it sucks that i cant go to sleep like a normal person.

Knighty-Knight: It’s four in the morning. I’ve been talking with you for nearly an hour. We need to find a way to get you to go to sleep.

You: Aren’t you sleeby? Dont you have to wake up at like five?

Knighty-Knight: Yes & yes.

You made a face, feeling guilty for making him stay up like this. If you had known that he was getting ready to rest for the night, you wouldn’t have messaged him.

You: Go beeeed. I shouldn't have texted you

Knighty-Knight: I was waiting for you to use an apostrophe. 

Knighty-Knight: …But, I was having sleeping difficulties too. I’m so tired, but I can't sleep. Besides, you didn’t bother me any. I was finishing patching up my armor.

You: Maybe there’s something we both can do to wear ourselves out?

You stared at the wall thoughtfully, wondering what you and him could do while so far away. You doubted he’d come over to your place when it’s so late and cold outside…

Knighty-Knight: Did you have anything in mind?

You: uhhh

You: sexting

Knighty-Knight: You’re horny right now?

…Slowly, you pouted deeply, now embarrassed. 

You: Well i coould be horny if we seeexted

Knighty-Knight: How

Knighty-Knight: How does one sext?

You made a high-pitched noise, squirming around like a worm while a deep sense of embarrassment pierced your soul. After a second longer you took in a breath, steadying your mental fortitude. 

You: Ooh you’re so sexy and i bet you have a fat cock

You stared at the message before whining. “Oh my gooosh I– I’m never going to look him in the eyes ever again.”

He took a long while to respond, the three dots disappearing and reappearing every so often. Eventually, he sent a text back.

Knighty-Knight: You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. If I could, I’d meet you a thousand times over just so we can make new memories.

“Aww.” You lowered your bottom lip, rereading his message a few times. It wasn’t really sexting, but it was very thoughtful. Though, when you glanced back up at your message, you busted out laughing. Oh, you had such a way with words at four in the morning.

You: I love you too. 

There was a long pause– to the point where you thought he had finally gone asleep. Though, after a while longer, the three dots showed up at the bottom once more.

Knighty-Knight: What’s the point of sexting?

You: To… get horny and masturbate ig

Knighty-Knight: I was supposed to be masturbating this entire time?? Were you masturbating?

Laughter bubbled up in your throat once again. You’ve only had sex with Meta Knight once or twice, but he was always such a bean when it came to things of that manner. 

You: Noo, I was am not masturbating 

You smiled, rereading the last few messages and feeling relatively light and happy. 

You: I dont think this sexting this is gunna work. Ik you gotta get up early but do you wanna come over and help me go to sleep?

There was a long bout of silence in the textual conversation, and you began to get slightly nervous and guilty. Maaaybe you shouldn’t have asked that of him. And, it sounded just a little sexual– you highly doubted he wanted to have sex with you, then go straight to work right after since it would be right about five in the morning by that point.

Just as you were about to text him back, he responded.

Knighty-Knight: Of course. Give me ten minutes.

[nabibeans]

Comfort.

Summary: trans male Hongjoong gets his period, his boyfriend Seonghwa is always there to make sure he’s okay.

•

Hongjoong knew something was wrong the second he sat up in bed that morning. The warm, sticky wetness between his legs surely couldn’t be a good sign.

“Mmm.”

He hummed softly, rolling out of the bed to use the bathroom. Each step he took grew more and more uncomfortable with the growing sticky feeling between his legs, had he had a wet dream? Is that what the feeling was? No, he hadn’t. At least he didn’t think he did.

Upon reaching the bathroom Hongjoong pulled his pants and boxers off immediately gasping at the sight. A rather large patch of red greeted him.

“Fuck…you’re kidding.”

He grabbed a package of wet tissues and a tampon from the box he kept stashed under the cabinet away from Wooyoung and Jongho. It wasn’t that the didn’t know he was trans, it was more the fact he was embarrassed for needing such items to begin with. After cleaning himself up a bit Hongjoong took a quick shower, changing into a pair of small shorts and a tank top, something comfortable for his heavier days like today.

“Hyung, Jongho and I are going out for breakfast, wanna come?”

Wooyoung asked as Hongjoong emerged from the restroom, the leader politely declined.

“Ah no thanks, it’s a bad time.”

Wooyoung nodded in understanding, “just call if you need us to grab you anything.”

Hongjoong nodded, heading back to his bedroom to change the blood stained sheets, putting on the new silk black sheets that Seonghwa had bought him along with a fluffy gray comforter set he’d bought himself. Settling back down into the bed Hongjoong reached over for his phone, unlocking it to check his notifications.

The lockscreen was illuminated with a photo of himself and Seonghwa, his boyfriend kissing his cheek while they lay side by side together in bed. Hongjoong smiled softly, going straight to his messages and checking them one by one. A soft ding made him scroll back to the top.

My Star: Good morning my sweet squirrel, hope you’re well rested.

Hongjoong smiled widely, replying to the message with delight.

Hongie: I got my period. But I’m okay, just taking it easy.

Hongjoong hit send before laying back down, relaxing against the sheets and pulling up a YouTube video to watch. With each hour the period cramps grew in intensity, to the point Hongjoong was sure he’d vomit from the pain.

“Fuck…”

He groaned to himself, grabbing his phone he quickly dialed Seonghwa’s number. The phone rang a few times before Seonghwa answered.

“Hongjoong! Are you okay love?”

Hongjoong groaned in pain at a particularly strong cramp. His eyes watering a bit.

“I’m cramping really bad, can you come over?”

Seonghwa didn’t need to be told twice, quickly saying he’d be there as soon as possible before hanging up. Hongjoong settled against the sheets as he tried to get comfortable, his body raging against him making nausea bubble up in his stomach.

It was about 30 minutes before he heard his bedroom door creak open, soft footsteps coming to his bedside.

“Hongjoong? Hey baby I’m here.”

Hongjoong sat up slowly, his eyes struggling to focus on his boyfriend for a few seconds before adjusting.

“Seonghwa.”

He choked out a pained response, hugging his lover tightly. Seonghwa rubbed his back gently, placing soft kisses to his forehead.

“Feeling bad?”

A nod.

“Does it hurt?”

Another nod.

Seonghwa placed the bag he’d brought on the nightstand, wrapping his arms tightly around Hongjoong and kissing his temple.

“I brought you some painkillers, a bottle of your favorite tea, and some snacks. Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you my love.”

Hongjoong nodded, grateful he had such sweet boyfriend to take care of him.

“Thank you Hwa, I love you.”

Seonghwa smiled happily, nodding against the boy’s hair.

“I love you too.”

The couple spent the remainder of the day cuddled up in Hongjoong’s bed, wrapped up in each others arms while a drama played in the background, Hongjoong had long since fallen asleep in the comfort of Seonghwa’s arms, Seonghwa himself on the edge of sleep. Giving Hongjoong’s forehead one more soft kiss the elder found himself falling asleep next to his boyfriend.

The two finding comfort in each others arms.

|| short and sweet but I’m back babes!!!

[farfromstrange]

Pain Relief | Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Summary: You're on your period and you tend to get bad periods, but today is a particularly rough day. You call in sick from work, and when Mikey comes home to find you still in bed, he gets worried. When he finds out why you're writhing in pain, he doesn't hesitate to help you out.

Warnings: Description of period symptoms, use of pain killers, mentions of menstrual blood, fluff, fluff, FLUFF.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: So I just got my period and I could barely move for the past three hours. I wrote this while I was literally bawling from the pain, but I thought some of you might need this as well. There is a serious lack of period comfort with Mikey.

It’s half past three in the afternoon, and the sun is up over Dublin, a welcome change in the usually so dull weather. You should be sitting in the backyard with a book and a cup of tea and enjoy the nature behind your house. Instead, you are bound to the bed. 

Every muscle in your body aches. The stabbing pain in the left side of your lower abdomen spreads into your legs, making it impossible to move without feeling like you might pass out. The pain comes and goes in heavy waves. Your muscles contract and you can only whimper as the cramps ripple through your stomach. You’ve tried all kinds of positions, but either your back starts hurting or the pressure you can feel on your lower half gets worse, so you find yourself flipping around every five minutes, and it’s starting to get exhausting. 

It’s not unusual that you wake up long after Michael has gone out, especially not when you have a late shift, though today when you woke up and the bed was empty, you found yourself crying at the loss of warmth. And when you went to the bathroom and realized just why you’ve been feeling like utter shit the past week, you knew that you had to call in sick. Working in the state you're in is not something you can do or should do.

It’s worse this time around. You’re not sure why. Maybe you have been working a little too much lately and the stress is finally getting to you, but it seems almost rude of your uterus to treat you like a criminal during your period. You’ve taken as much Ibuprofen as you could find in the medical cabinet, and it still wasn’t enough. It got to the point where you cried yourself into a restless nap. But the pain only continues to roll you over like a bulldozer.

Now you’re alone at home, the afternoon sun streaming in through the curtains, and you still feel like shit. Another sharp cramp hits you, and you roll onto your side, pulling your knees up to your chest. It elevates the pressure only for a moment before the pain returns tenfold and you try to lie on the other side, curling around your boyfriend’s pillow and hoping that maybe that will help. 

It doesn’t.

You’re not strong enough to get up and grab a hot water bottle or take a shower. You’re stuck here. For a moment, the thought of calling Michael and asking him to come home crosses your mind, but it instantly makes you feel bad. He has more important things to do than to take care of you through something that you’ve been having for years, and before him, you managed perfectly fine on your own. You’re not sure how because you are immobile at this point, but it’s not his responsibility, you think. 

After another miserable hour of agony, the key rattles in the lock. You listen to his distinctive movements as he drops the bag with his prescription on the dining table, takes off his jacket, and grabs himself a glass of water before going on a search for you. 

Michael is more than surprised to find your car in the driveway. He figures you might have come home from work earlier, and that makes him smile, but then he notices that the house is unusually quiet and he grows worried. 

He makes his way up the stairs toward your shared bedroom. He knocks. When you don’t answer, he pushes it open just enough to step inside. The curtains are still in the same position he left them, and you’re still in bed. Under any other circumstances, he would have figured you decided to take a nap after work, but you’re still wearing his shirt that you went to bed with, there is a pack of Ibuprofen on the nightstand and an empty water bottle lying next to your frame on the mattress. 

You’re not okay, and he doesn’t have to ask you to know that. 

“Love?” he says softly. You must be sensitive to light today or the curtains wouldn’t be closed. “I’m back.”

You have your back turned to him. At the sound of his voice, tears well up in your eyes. You missed him a little too much, but now that he’s back, you realize how miserable you look and how ghastly you must smell after hours spent in bed without properly moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if you bled onto the sheets.

The mattress dips as he sits down. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle and answer, “I’m fine.”

“Yer not fine.”

With a grunt, you manage to roll over. When he sees the sunken bags under your eyes and how pale you are, his eyes soften even more. Michael reaches out to touch your face. “What happened?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

“I called in sick,” you admit, “because I got my period this morning.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing serious, I promise.” As if to demonstrate, you try to sit up, but your arms lose balance and your face contorts as another cramp tears through your uterus. “Fuck me!” This time, you can’t stop the tears from falling, and you grab a pillow to bury your face in it. The sounds you let out are utterly broken, the exhaustion palpable. 

His hand moves from your face to your arm. “That doesn’t sound like nothin’, love. Ya look like yer in quite a lot of pain.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me.”

“I do.” 

“I can handle it.”

“Ya should have called me,” he says. He inches a little closer. “I could have helped ya, maybe got ya something stronger for the pain.”

Another tear slides down your cheek and you look up at him. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” you choke out.

His heart breaks when he realizes that you didn’t tell him because you felt guilty, maybe even a little disgusted. “But yer not–”

“This is not something you should have to concern yourself with.”

“I love ya, of course, your wellbeing concerns me.”

“It’s just a period.”

Michael offers you a soft smile. “Exactly. Nothing I can’t handle.” He strokes your arm. “Is it always that bad?”

You shrug. 

He reaches out to wipe your tears. “So it is?”

“It just…” your eyes look helpless as they stare into his. “It hurts so much and nothing helps.”

He grunts in the back of his throat. That’s why the Ibuprofen is still lying next to you. Michael hates a lot of things, but seeing you cry is definitely the worst because it hurts him just the same. “Oh, my love–” he cradles your cheek, and your eyes flutter shut at the impact, fresh tears pearling off your lashes. “Ya should have called,” he says again. His voice is soft, it doesn’t hurt your head more than it already does, but the guilt has nestled its way into your brain. 

You don’t want to be weak. It’s bad enough you have to use a sick day every month around the first or second day of your period. Now that Michael is in your life, this is new territory for both of you. You’ve never had someone around on bad days, and he’s not used to seeing the effect a bad period has on you because you’ve only just moved in together and before that, you isolated yourself for a day to get better and then swallowed the rest of the pain after. This is bad though, and you hate that you still have found no way to manage it. No doctor or scientist has found a cure for the kind of pain you and many other women experience for many months, and your hormones are so all over the place that even taking the pill will only make it worse. 

You hate yourself and you hate being a woman, especially right now, maybe only right now, but the world just sucks and you want nothing more than to crawl under a rock and die. 

He leans down, his lips brushing your temple. “Shh,” he coos. “I’m here now. Let me help ya."

“How?” you ask. You don’t have the strength to argue as another cramp seemingly knocks the air out of your lungs, and you want nothing more than for it to stop or at least ease up one way or another. 

Michael offers a helping hand and you would be stupid to deny it. You can’t. Your body is too weak to withstand it on its own. You don’t want to be alone. The whirlwind of emotions inside of you feels like such a mess and it’s stupid; you feel like an idiot, but you’re also sad and angry and frustrated and in pain, and it has to stop. You need it to stop. 

He starts rubbing your arm more firmly now. “First, let’s get ya in the shower. I’ll take care of the rest,” he says. 

“I can’t stand–”

“Okay, pet, c’mere.” 

With what little strength you have left, you climb into his arms. He lifts you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he carries you to the bathroom. He even holds you as he turns on the shower and makes sure the water is warm enough for you, making sure you don’t fall over. When it comes to taking your clothes off though, you blush. 

“What?” He stops at the hem of your shirt. 

You cross your arms. “I don’t want you to see, you know, the blood,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s disgusting.”

He gives you a stare of confusion before it turns blank and then the bastard even has the audacity to laugh at you. 

Your eyes widen and you stare at him. “It’s not funny!” The tears in your eyes stem from anger now. 

He catches onto them, and his laughter dies into a small chuckle, his arms wrapping around you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, I– I’m just– yer scared I’ll get disgusted… by the sight of blood. Me.”

“Yes, and that’s not funny!” You try not to sob, but you fail miserably. 

Michael takes you back into his arms, his broad shoulders caging you in. He has you fully engulfed now, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just… I don’t mind the blood, okay? I don’t mind any blood. Ya know that.”

“I know.” You cling to him. 

Still, it feels like such a huge step in your relationship, one that isn’t fresh but it’s also not years in the making either, and you simply don’t want him to see you like that. But you also know that standing straight with the pain that is tearing your lower abdomen to shreds is a task that’s going to exert you to the point you might as well fall unconscious. 

“I’ll turn around if that’s what you want, I just want to help,” he says. His puppy-dog eyes meet yours. “Will ya let me do that?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s gonna be a crime scene.”

“Lucky me that I didn’t cause that one, eh?”

Your brain takes a moment to process the words, and they sound so nonchalant coming out of his mouth. His smile is bright and a little mischievous and you can’t help but laugh a little. He can be such a dork if he wants to be. 

“Shut up,” you mutter as you begin taking your shirt off. 

Michael rushes to your rescue. “Made you laugh,” he says. 

“Astute observation, Mister Kinsella.”

“Shut up,” he mimics you, and you can’t help but chuckle again. 

“I’m in pain, I get to say what I want.”

“Fair point.”

He helps you out of the rest of your clothing before turning around as he promised. You step under the warm water, holding onto the wall for leverage. You feel dizzy. All the lying around and the lack of sustenance have caused your blood sugar to plummet, and it’s gradually going down. 

He is by your side in seconds, his promise to stay behind long forgotten. He holds you up, washes your hair, and the sweat off your skin. You protest at first, but he shoots it down with a gentle kiss to your lips, and then you’re on fire again and you can’t deny it feels good to be taken care of. It’s relaxing, almost.

The pain continues to wash over you, but at least you have someone to hold onto now. If you had been fully lucid, you would have cursed him and thrown him out, but you have to admit that you need help. You need his help. He understands you in ways no one else can, and he is the first man to prioritize your well-being when it comes to your period. He’s not disgusted, he’s merely worried and he loves you. That’s something you have to get used to; it might take some time, but Michael does it in a way that makes you feel safe. He has never made you feel anything short of safe. He’s your home. You need him, that’s no longer a secret, and you allow yourself to let loose a little. 

It’s easier to breathe now. He washes you carefully, gets you one of his oversized shirts (his sweaters are too warm, you tell him), and even helps you brush your teeth for the first time today. 

Soon enough, you’re tucked back into bed, once again put on bed rest, while he rummages around downstairs in the kitchen. There is a knock on the front door. You can hear Michael’s voice and is that… Jimmy? It doesn’t last long though, and you hear the stairs creak as he makes his way back to you. 

You’re curled into a ball on your side. Michael smiles when he sees you, obviously a lot more relaxed than before, and closes the door behind him again. He’s carrying a tray with a plate of different variations of fruits, a cup of tea, water, a Coke, and two different kinds of pills. The latter makes you frown. 

“Made you some food before ya pass out,” he says. 

You make some space for him to sit next to you. “Thanks,” you say, then point to the pills. “What’s that?”

“I asked Jimmy if they had something against nausea and maybe some painkillers that might be stronger than the ones ya have here. He just brought them over.”

“Mikey…” You tear up again, but this time not because of the pain. He is so considerate, it makes your heart swell. And maybe it’s a little because of the pain. 

He hands you the water bottle. “Here, take ‘em.”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Nonsense, I– well, I guess I just want to be a good man for ya, and if that means taking care of you while yer on your period, I take my job very seriously.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

He shakes his head. “You are, my love. I love ya, which means I’m here, always, and I want ya to tell me when yer not feeling well.” Guiding the bottle and the pills to your lips, he smiles. “Now take your pills. Don’t want ta have to tell ya twice.”

You swallow them without hesitation. At some point during your relationship, you gave up on asking what kind of medication his brother and his wife keep around and just hope they haven’t given you any hard drugs. But Michael wouldn’t let that happen, anyway. 

He senses your struggle for a comfortable position and moves the tray aside so you can sit between his thighs. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your legs pull up instantly, wanting to get rid of the annoying pain in your front, but his next action confuses you. He forces them back down and on either side of his thighs before he slips his large hand under your shirt and places it over your stomach. 

You gasp, feeling a little exposed, but then his fingers start kneading your skin and you crumble completely. Your head drops back against his shoulder. It feels like magic. He’s massaging the sore muscles of your lower stomach while at the same time numbing all other oncoming cramps. He pushes a button inside of you that instantly makes you slack in his arms, and he holds you tighter around your shoulders with the free one.

“How’s that?” he asks. 

“Don’t stop,” is all you know how to answer. 

“So… what?”

“It’s good.”

“Okay, grand.”

“Yeah. Now shut up.”

He chuckles, burying his nose in your hair that now smells like his shampoo, and he continues digging his fingers right where you need them.

Your body grows limp after a while, and when he looks down to check on you, your eyes are closed. You’ve fallen asleep in his arms, and there are no more creases of worry on your face.

Michael presses another kiss to your temple. “Good girl,” he says.

Then, he retreats his hand and gently lays you next to him. He tucks you in the same way he did before. You’re quick to move around in your sleep until you’ve found him again, and your head subconsciously moves to his chest. 

He doesn’t waste time wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, just like every night. And you know that when you wake up, he will be right by your side, not leaving until he’s certain that you’re feeling better. 

Mikey Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked (if any more of you want to be added, let me know)

But also tagging @bellaxgiornata bc I know you're on a Mikey trip and I think you might want to read this, darling <3

[normal-sea-urchin]

Casey Jones Fucking Dies: Chapter 3

i have already started on chapter 4, W my brain for actually giving me the motivation and focus to do this. also @builtlikeastickofcelery

It had been about four weeks since the... incident. Raphael was sitting in the kitchen in the lair, drinking coffee. It was around 2 A.M. and his brothers and father had yet to wake up; so he sat at the table staring at his reflection in the dark coffee. In all honesty, he was doing more thinking than drinking. He was thinking about how April had been friends with Casey. Casey who he had killed. He was thinking about how he could never tell his family. How disappointed and disgusted they would be.

"Is something troubling you my son?" the turtle's father asked, walking out of the shadows, startling Raph.

"Aah! Uh, no Sensei, I'm okay." Raph replied, lying through his teeth, hoping the eyebags on his face wouldn't rat him out. He hadn't been getting great sleep after the whole situation with that Casey Jones kid. Even if he tried, his nightmares wouldn't let him sleep uninterrupted for very long.

"Are you sure, my son?" the rat questioned, glancing down at Raph's eyebags. 

Crap. Looks like there really wasn't any hiding his lack of sleep. "Well Sensei, I guess..." Raph trailed off, trying to piece together a lie that would sound convincing to Splinter. "I guess I just feel bad for April, she's taken this death so hard." Raph lied.

"Hmmm," his father hummed, "so that is what ails you. Do not worry Raphael, April is very strong. It will take time for her to come to terms with her friend's death, but she will push through."

"Mm, thanks Sensei." Raph said, taking that speech as his cue to leave.

                _______________________

And while April mourning her friend definitely made Raph feel guiltier, he had noticed some other strange happenings in this four week period. Nothing super weird, at first it was just his action figures falling over, or a particularly cold gust of wind blowing past him during patrol.

Raphael's things started to simply, go missing as well. A sai couldn't be found right before training sessions, or his drumsticks got misplaced. Nothing too bizarre, but misplacing things was a bit out of character for the red-masked turtle. Maybe it was all a prank by Mikey, the big question was how he got into Raph's room. 

Either way, pick your poison. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience. Until the occurrences got more...peculiar. It wasn't until one day while he and his brothers were walking through the sewers, setting up security cameras for Donnie.

It was all going well, nothing weird, nothing strange. Raph was setting up a camera in one of the sewer tunnels. Further down the tunnel was his younger brother, Mikey. The red-masked turtle was attaching one of Donnie's security cams to the mossy walls of the sewer, setting it up in the corner. After turning it on he turned behind him to grab another from the bag Donnie gave them. 

The only problem was the fact that the bag wasn't behind him anymore. He looked over towards Mikey who was still fidgeting with the camera from before, but it also didn't look like he had the bag. He turned to his left, down a different sewer tunnel, where he found the brown satchel. 

"Huh, weird." the turtle muttered to himself. he found it a bit strange that the bag had moved seemingly on its own, but then again, he'd been having strange things happen for the past few weeks. He walked over to pick up the bag, but for whatever reason, he decided to look up at the tunnel before reaching for the satchel. The tunnel seemed much, much, longer than it should. He couldn't seem to pull his vision away from the end of the tunnel, or at least where the end should be. In its place seemed to be a white haze, with a bit of a green glow surrounding it.

It was during this state of paralysis that the turtle heard something calling him, if you could call it that. Whatever was calling him wasn't exactly a voice, but something wanted him to walk down the tunnel, past the bag full of cameras that he was looking for only a minute ago. His legs began to move on their own, which could now be considered a habit of theirs. He put one foot in front of the other, walking deeper into the tunnel, following the sense calling him there.

"Uhhh? Brochacho?" Mikey interrupted, shocking Raph out of his state. Raph snapped his neck around to face his younger brother, now back in control of his mind and body. "You ok man? You seem kinda out of it dude." Mikey remarked. 

"Ugh, I'm fine, Mikey!" Raph lashed out, trying to cover the slight fear in his voice from the previous experience. "Let's just put the rest of these cameras up." he growled. As he turned around to pick up the bag he glanced up to get a second look at the sewer tunnel. Now, instead of the white haze with a greenish glow, there was the usual darkness. He grabbed the bag the turned back to face his younger brother, speed-walking out of the tunnel and past his younger brother.

                 _______________________

After that experience, Raph decided to stick around his brothers more often, hoping that would prevent anything like that from happening again. He hoped that they wouldn't notice, ever since the teenager was found dead how he lashed out less, how he tried to pull his punches, how he went out of his way to be mean less. But with all the time he now spent around them, he began to figured they would eventually notice. Unfortunately for raph, not every waking moment could be spent with his brothers.

But it was just a shower, nothing too bad could happen a shower, as long as he kept it short, right? 'Just keep it short' he reminded himself stepping into the shower. But when he turned the warm water on, all his worries were washed down the drain along with the water. Guess showers really are good for your mental health, or whatever is it that Donnie was saying earlier that day.

It was so warm in the shower that Raph figured that staying in it for a bit longer couldn't end too badly, nothing had happened so far. He felt the warm water run down his shell. Yeah, he could stay here a bit longer. This train of thought repeated for quite a while until Leo yelled from the other side of the door that Raph was hogging all the warm water and needed to get out of the shower. Raph begrudgingly turned off the warm water and stepped out of the shower. The cold hit him like a brick. He turned to the mirror, which was now covered in condensation. Donnie always got mad when there was condensation on the mirror after one of his brothers took a shower. Something about the water causing mold. Not wanting Donnie to yell at him, Raph took a towel and wiped the water away. After clearing most of the condensation off the mirror he was greeted with his face...and-

There was a second face. Staring back at him.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Masterpost/Next