#i say this if i had the money for someone else to clean up after him i’d live with my brother he makes me laugh.

[moonshynecybin]

their codependency cannottt be over-exaggerated wdym 5 minutes… they’re so funny. alex this was your chance to get away 😭

the ONLY reason i think the move out is happening tbh is bc now they both have girlfriends which is so funny. me when i have a normal and not at all codependent relationship with my brother

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[agoodflyting]

Why Aziraphale is completely ridiculous in the Bastille scene (and I love him so much for it)

A while ago I posted a comparison of Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes in the 1793 flashback in Good Omens and I wanted to add these little tidbits. (Because they haunt me.)

I feel like most people know this but IF YOU DON'T, Paris in 1793 is right in the middle of something called La Terreur.

HISTORY LESSON If you didn't learn this in school the French Revolution was when, after years of escalating social tension, a coalition representing the working classes of France revolted against the monarchy, violently overthrew King Louis XVI, and declared France to be a republic.

The new National Convention governing France ruled that King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette were traitors to the people of France because of how they had spent ridiculous amounts of money on luxuries for themselves while vast numbers of the lower classes were literally starving to death. (keep the bold in mind - wealth and class disparities were one of the key causes of the whole-ass revolution)

In 1793 (year of the flashback) both the King and Queen were executed by guillotine for their crimes.

This kicks of something called The Reign of Terror (La Terreur if you want to be French about it). A multi-year-long period in which the National Convention goes on a bloody witch hunt for any and every member of the middle or upper classes who could even possibly be considered a traitor by those same standards.

If you A) had money or privilege, and B) had ever used your money or privilege to treat yourself, you were getting executed. Over 25,000 people died during the Reign of Terror, half of them by guillotine. In fact, the iconic guillotine was used because it was physically impossible to keep up with the sheer number of people they were executing in Paris every single day.

Some things that could get you killed (actually and completely seriously) during the Reign of Terror:

Implying in any way you were sympathetic to the monarchy

Having a noble title

Having expensive things

Wearing expensive, luxurious clothes (*cough* AZIRAPHALE)

helping or sympathizing with anyone who did any of the above

a working-class person saying you were mean to them once

And then there's this bitch...

I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME So we have established that Paris in 1793 is in the middle of a frenzied, state-sanctioned bloodbath in which the working classes are massacring everyone even remotely nobility-adjacent. And in the middle of this frenzy, Aziraphale proceeds to roll up in Paris in this outfit:

How will this outfit get him killed? Let me count the ways...

First off- at this point everyone with even the tiniest shred of self- preservation is hiding the fact that they are in any way associated with the monarchy. The wealthy are straight-up abandoning mansions. The middle-class are plastering over decorations to make their house look 'poor'. The only people dressed remotely decent are the guys leading the National Convention and that's just because nobody can stop them. Everyone else is in 24/7 peasant cosplay or else they are covering themselves in cockades and sashes on to show they're pro-Republic.

Aziraphale is basically a giant shiny white sign saying I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME.

First off the lace jabot and lace cuffs are both associated with the old-school wealthy in the 1790's.

His coat is also decorated in gold braid and silver buttons, which are both marks of wealth and luxury.

He basically looks like he works for Louis XIV - not just rich, but old school rich.

We know it's his natural hair color, but hair powdering (with clay and starch) had been a big trend with the rich all throughout the 18th century to get that clean white venerable look . To someone who doesn't know it's natural, it would very much look like he's wearing hair powder.

He's wearing shades of cream and white, which are very hard to keep clean and clearly states that the wearer is rich and can afford the upkeep necessary to keep an outfit like that stain-free.

He's wearing white knee-breeches and stockings, also called culottes. See above about laundry and how rich you had to be to wear white, but also working-class men wore long pants like this:

A large faction involved in the Revolution were the Sans-Culottes (no-culottes aka we wear long pants LIKE GOOD OLD WORKING MEN). Culottes are specifically associated with everything the revolution hated. That's right - Aziraphale is literally wearing The Fanciest of Fancy Pants in a city where a group called The Men Against Fancy Pants are running around murdering people.

And then there are his shoes.

Oh god his shoes

I could do a whole post about Aziraphale's blessed little white satin pumps and how ridiculous they are.

Actually I might just do that because this is getting so long and I still have to talk about the brioche.

So I can't remember if it's in the script book or if it's from Neil Gaiman's tumblr, but it's apparently canon (?) that Aziraphale was going around in that outfit asking people where he could get crepes and brioche when he was arrested.

The Affair of the Brioches

So... uh... we've all heard the line attributed to Marie Antoinette- how when she was told that her people were starving because there was no bread left in Paris, she famously said...

It's morphed into 'let them eat cake', but the line is first recorded as, "Then let them eat brioches."

While it's unlikely she ever actually said it, the important thing is that... people in 1793 would have thought she said it. It was used as political smear to show how arrogant and out of touch the monarchy was. Marie Antoinette in particular was reviled by the people of France, who thought she was the main cause of their economic problems. That's why she was executed too.

Bread and brioche and the lines between poverty and privilege were a big thing in Revolutionary France. There was a lot of political connotation to what you ate. The French Revolution came about because of decades of suffering among the lower classes of France. It wasn't something that some dudes just decided to do. The people of Paris have been through years of the absolute worst, most oppressive poverty and starvation you can imagine, all while watching the rich throw money around crazy.

So let us recap.

Aziraphale is dressed so ridiculously posh that he looks like a joke parody of a nobleman... and he is bumbling around Paris during the Reign of Terror. Asking people. For brioche. How I imagine everyone looked at him:

It is so astoundingly tone deaf and tactless. He is basically cosplaying as Marie Antoinette and then going around asking the poor for cake.

I just.... Aziraphale. babygirl. no. oh no. You're lucky they even bothered to take you to prison. I am amazed Crowley ever let him live that down.

I have no conclusion other than this. Aziraphale is ridiculous and I love him so much.

YES YOU REALLY SHOULD SIR.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Stalker Sylus But it's the version I think would be entertaining and funny

Just like with what I did for Rafayel earlier, imma do one for Sylus. One person commented on it, and after today, I needed to quickly write something easy, but entertaining. This is just for fun, and isn't how I portray or think the character would act in canon. It's for funsies. All of these are totally SFW as well.

Stalker Sylus who found you while you were still in college and decided to begin watching over you. He built Mephisto originally to keep an eye on you, and after discovering how useful he was for everything else, decided to keep him around.

Stalker Sylus who realizes that financially you're struggling while in college so begins leaving you fake lottery tickets so he has an excuse to send you money directly into your bank account whenever you "win". It's never a crazy amount, but it's enough for you to get by without needing to worry about any form of struggling.

Stalker Sylus who notices the car you were driving was a death trap and had someone give it a "love tap" while it was parked at your college. "Insurance" happened to give you enough money that you could've bought a luxury car.

Stalker Sylus who gets Mephisto to befriend crows near your campus. Suddenly you have a murder of crows who leave you little trinkets. Sylus also has Mephisto steal some of your things from your dorm room, mainly small things like little pens or notes. Sylus hoards these items in a locked safe in one of his weaponries.

Stalker Sylus who discovers your shared dorm room is an absolute mess and pays the college to kick our your dormmate out and replaces them with a maid who's entire job is to cook and clean for you (he's paying their tuition and funding meals, so at least the maid is getting something good out of this). You just think your new roommate is super sweet for always picking up after you and sharing the "extra" food she had made.

Stalker Sylus who keeps tabs on you with Mephisto every single day. He refuses to peer into your room while you're in there out of respect (his theory is if he ever sees you bare, it's going to be because you want him to). He does keep tabs on your normal routine while you're in college, as well as when you're graduating.

Stalker Sylus who loathes the idea of you being a hunter, but is still supportive. He knew you made it into Unicorns before anyone else did. When you got home that day there were already flowers and a 'congratulations' card waiting for you. It wasn't signed, but there was a wad of cash attached to it.

Stalker Sylus who notices one of your neighbors is noisy and you're losing sleep over it so he buys the entire apartment complex and kicks them out. He also lowers your rent so you're barely paying anything. He even lets that sweet maid from the college take the apartment next to you, and she often brings you food when she cooks extra, but this time it's because she actually took a liking to you while in college.

Stalker Sylus who meets and employs the twins and manages to keep you a secret from them for a solid week before they find out. They begin also keeping tabs on you, and are often sent out on 'missions' to take care of wanderers for you so you don't have to be so stressed at work (also less paperwork for you).

Stalker Sylus who realizes you're overworking yourself so he hacks into the system at work and puts in your schedule that you suddenly have four days off in a row. Nobody bats an eye because they assume the higher ups did it.

Stalker Sylus who sends vouchers to your house randomly saying you "won" a vacation, or you suddenly have "won" a full service at a luxury spa in Linkon. He pays for everything so you can take care of yourself.

Stalker Sylus who has the twins sometimes sneak into your apartment and has them dump out all your skin care products and hair products and replaces the the contents with higher end products that he chose specifically for your hair and skin type since he happens to know what would work best for you.

Stalker Sylus who is slowly replacing your clothes with replica items that are designer because he thinks they'd be better for your skin. He also has the twins sneak new items in, like nice jewelry. You don't recall every buying those items, but since they're in your closet, it must've been an impulse buy.

Stalker Sylus who always covers your bar tabs or restaurant tickets. The waiters always tell you that "Someone is very grateful for the work you do as a Deepspace Hunter and wanted to pay for your drinks/meal. You just think you're doing an amazing job as a Deepspace Hunter.

Stalker Sylus who gets the campus crows to sometimes drop off expensive and rare gem stones to you. You just think the crows are really good at finding nice rocks.

Stalker Sylus who knows your cycle, and whenever you're on your period will send your comfort foods. You think it's weird that they keep delivering food and snacks to the wrong address, but you feel too dog shit to care and take it anyway. There's no return label, after all, and you don't want it to go to waste.

Stalker Sylus who sees you got a speeding ticket and erases it from your record. You go to pay it, but they have never heard of you. The cop that pulled you over was also mysteriously demoted.

Stalker Sylus who is absolutely furious when Granny's house goes up in flames because it was almost you. He and the twins take a keen interest in finding out exactly who it was, because Sylus has no intention on letting any of them live. The twins are completely on board because they've technically been stalking you as well, and decided they like you.

Stalker Sylus who has the twins follow the car when you get taken to the N109 Zone so he could give you a proper introduction when he "saves" you.

Stalker Sylus who is genuinely surprised when you're hostile to him before he remembers...he knows everything about you and all your little quirks...but you haven't actually met yet.

Stalker Sylus who has no clue what to do about you not knowing him. When you shoot him he's more entertained, because he does know everything about you, so this truly caught him off guard.

Stalker Sylus who is told the reason you can't resonate is because you're disgusted by him, and he briefly wonders how much you'd hate him if you found out he's been stalking you for years.

Stalker Sylus who is thanking everything when the evol linkage kept you two together. It was like Christmas. Best day of his life knowing you legit couldn't get away from him. After the linkage lets up, this man is trying to find out how to trigger it again. He's spending more time with you when you'll allow it for small experiments. The moment he finds out the trigger it's over for you. This man will do it at least twice a week.

Stalker Sylus who's finally able to get you to date him after he pulls all the stops out. He does know you better than anyone else, so it wasn't hard for him really. He knew all your favorite meals, what gifts you liked, date locations, etc. You think he's just very attentive...which he is.

Stalker Sylus who will do everything he can to get you to stay with him in the N109 zone at every opportunity. When you can't stay there, you find him lounging around your apartment because he "needed a safe house"

So ya...Stalker Sylus...did I just accidentally make a basic plot for a fic series? Ah look at what I did now. I wrote this in a solid 30 minutes and now it could be a story. Too bad I ain't writing it (you can't see me but I just put on some sunglasses and gave a smug chad face)

Hope y'all enjoyed this one. Yandere Stalkers come in many different forms, this is how I'd portray him as one.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 1 | l.n

summary: being an art student is all fun and games until you need someone to be a model for your final project, which just so happens to be a portrait painting. especially when the only person who’s available is your best friend’s obnoxious roommate.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, lando is the definition of cocky, reader and lando bicker like an old married couple and oscar is so sick of their shit.

jordans notes: hello everyone, and welcome to chapter 1 of ‘focal point’! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! as always, sending you all my love xx

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

“oscar, please,”

it was tuesday, the crisp fall air making you regret throwing on the thin sweater you had picked out this morning before your first lecture. wishing you had chosen the thicker one you had debated on throwing on beforehand. but it didn’t look as good with the pair of jeans you had picked out, and well, priorities.

oscar sighed, pressing the fob against the reader on the front door of his building. the same one you followed him to every tuesday and thursday afternoon after your shared class, a ritual that took place your second year. later on, you’d both hit the cafe on campus to study and do homework together, a nice little routine. the only routine that you really had in your otherwise chaotic, on campus life.

“i really wish i could, but i seriously can’t,” he said, holding the door open for you before you practically ran inside for warmth. winter was slowly approaching, and the cold settling in the air was its first sign of dominance.

“i’ll literally pay you.” you said, pressing the button for the third floor. the doors closed as oscar shook his head.

“i don’t want your money,” he let out a soft chuckle before the doors opened up to his floor, “like i said earlier, professor johnson is giving us projects and tests damn near every week. my econ professor just assigned us a group project that i have to get done in two weeks, on top of all of that, i have so much other work for my classes. i just seriously don’t have the time.”

the keys jingled into the lock to his on campus apartment, the door pushing open. you stepped inside the apartment that hadn’t changed much over the last 3 years you’ve known him. a very simple, boyish decor that was somehow still kept clean. you couldn’t recall a time where the apartment looked like it actually belonged to two college boys.

“but everyone else has said no already. you were my last hope,” you sighed, putting your bag down before flopping onto the couch.

“last hope for what? getting a guy to take you out? if so, that’s really, really sad.”

the british voice echoed through the room and instantly made you roll your eyes. lando norris, oscar’s incredibly obnoxious roommate. you had questioned oscar often on why he was friends with someone as annoying and so full of himself as lando, but whenever he was asked, oscar would simply just say ‘he’s not that bad’ and leave it at that.

however, you liked to disagree.

“what’re you doing here?”

“i live here,” he replied back, “shouldn’t i be asking you that question?”

“it’s tuesday,” you replied, and it looks could kill, he’d be dead in the kitchen instead of making whatever concoction you’re sure he’d try to convince you was good if you asked what it was.

“oh yeah, your little play date,” he said, mixing around the mystery contents in the bowl in his hand, “whatever it is, glad i’m out of it.”

“no one asked you to join us anyway.”

“it hasn’t even been five minutes,” oscar sighed, “both of you, just shut up.”

lando smirked at the expression on your face. one of complete dislike and pure hatred. you eyed him as he ate the granola and… is that an egg?

“i’m going to my room, you kids have fun with your... whatever it is you two do.”

you groaned once the brit was out of the room, “how do you live with him? genuinely asking.”

oscar shook his head, “maybe if you two tried to get along, you would see that he really isn’t that bad.”

“i think pigs would start flying if we ever got along.”

“a man can dream,” he sighed, “you ready? i’m in desperate need of caffeine, and maybe a cheese danish.”

“but i’m so comfortable right now,”

“i’ll buy your coffee if you get up.”

you grabbed your bag off the floor, springing up from the couch before making your way towards the front door, “okay, let’s go,”

“yeah, that’s what i thought.”

the sun had set by the time you made your way back to your own apartment. the warm shower you had took put your body at ease, relaxing your muscles after the long day that you had. you threw your towel into the laundry basket in the corner of the room as your phone lit up with a text message.

8889991034 heard you need help with a final project, and lucky for you, i have some free time on my hands 😌

you furrowed your eyebrows reading the text, typing back a response.

sorry, do i know you?

you don't have my number saved? honestly, not surprised, but damn.. i think we've hit a new low it's lando

yeah, absolutely NOT do me a favor, kiss my ass and lose my number 🙂

fine, i won’t help you then 🤷��‍♂️

first of all, jokes on you, i don't need your help. i've found someone else. second of all, don't act like you're trying to do me a solid. clearly there's something in it for you

you were lying. you hadn't found someone else, but the idea of having to spend time with lando was uninteresting in the slightest. you were almost positive that eating glass was more tempting then spending even just a minute with him.

i mean, yeah, the whole 'you scratch my back, i scratch yours' kinda thing look, i didn't want to go to oscar since he has enough on his plate, but i'm failing econ. i was hoping, since you're like a bookworm or whatever, you'd help tutor me if i helped you with your final project i mean, plus, who wouldn't want to paint this gorgeous face? 😏

you rolled your eyes, swiping from the text messages with lando before clicking on oscar's name on your screen. your fingers were moving a mile a minute, shaking your head as you pressed send.

sleep with one eye open, piastri.

your best friend was quick to read the message, sending back a reply that made you groan.

okay, but do you mind telling me what i did?

YOU GAVE LANDO MY NUMBER?!

uhm... 😅 coffee on me thursday?

i hate you.

[twobellsilence]

I genuinely can't understand why some people still think of Anya as a clumsy, squeamish, incompetent bundle of nerves after finishing the game. Like you'd think that, even before the end, players would realize that Jimmy is a very unreliable narrator, what with his manipulative tendencies, the fact that he's literally hallucinating every other scene, and how different the rest of the crew seems to act from Curly's perspective. But no, many seem to take this version of Anya at face value, and it's very sad because not only is she the most important character in the game, but that description of her falls apart once you actually think about her for a split second!

Anya kept Curly, a severe burn victim and amputee, alive with basic medical supplies. This means she had to take care of him tirelessly, debride his wounds, set up and change his IV, change his bandages, set and clean a bedpan for him... Would a squeamish person be able to do that? A clumsy person who constantly forgets about things? Would an incompetent woman who, according to Jimmy, isn't even worth her title as a nurse, be able to take care of such a high-risk patient that needs tending to like clockwork? No, of course not! Anya is driven. Dedicated. Impossibly strong. This isn't just any patient, but her captain, someone who was clearly important to her and then tried to kill everyone (allegedly), which would no doubt add an extra layer of complexity to working with him in this context. And yet he's still alive and breathing and in top shape all things considered.

The only two things that point to her being incompetent is her inability to enter medical school - the reasons why are never so much as mentioned, but Anya herself says she has no savings, and I haven't really seen anyone speculate it could be because of money, not necessarily her lack of skill - and her inability to give Curly painkillers, which clearly triggers an intense trauma response from her, so it's understandable that she'd seek help from someone else to do it. And then there's the fact that it's not just anyone, but her abuser. Would an incompetent person steel herself and try to convince her RAPIST, someone she's so scared of she literally hid the only gun on the ship so he wouldn't be able to take it, to give her patient painkillers? She could've stalled. Could've straight up given up on trying to give Curly his meds. But she would rather face Jim head on than let that happen, because she's brave, and she knows what she's doing, and refuses to let even her very real trauma get in the way of her duty.

See what I mean? It's easy to see her simply as a nervous person, who spaces out and mopes and can't do something as basic as give a guy some pills. But that's the thing - it's easy. Once you go a little further, once you spot the discrepancies between her apparent personality versus her actions and the way she behaved during Curly's sections, you begin to realize Jim is wrong about her, and you are, too.

For a fandom that likes to overanalyze anything (as you should with a game like this), it's genuinely sad how the same effort isn't always extended to Anya.

[daenysx]

Okay blurb req for old money!Aemond who is ALSO a model for really expensive brands and his gf is a photographer👀 inspired by the photoshoot and that one specific blue leopard print pic🙂‍↕️🤭

oh my god i hope i did well, thank you, rue !! <33333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; modern!aemond being a hopeless romantic, suggestive, kisses, no but he's really so in love it hurts, photographer!reader and model!aemond can be a new favorite wow

"are you sure this is professional?"

aemond has no shame, honestly. you don't think you can be expected to be 'professional' when your boyfriend looks like he'll ruin your entire existence by looking like the most charming being in the entire universe.

his blue eyes sparkle in the latest photos you take, a stark contrast with his platinum blonde hair. flowy strands make you want to pull aemond to yourself enough to give him a good kiss on his neck as your fingers travel in his hair. maybe you can do that when you get to be alone with him. oh, you'll definitely do that when you're alone.

"i believe i'm extremely professional." you murmur, holding his hand to make him pose the way you want. "if you stop being so distracting, it'll be even better."

he smirks. a small quirk of lovely lips, he's handsome and he knows it. he leans into your space and your hold on your camera tightens. you will not kiss him. you can't, there are other people here, and this is business. you take a step back.

"i'm only doing what you tell me to do." he says like he's the most innocent man. "you can't say i'm not being good."

you give him a small smile. he's in the mood for playing.

"i didn't say that." you say, quietly. "come on, a few more for me and we'll be done."

aemond fixes his posture, your one hand still holding his. "of course." he says, coolly. "you know i can actually be good for you. as many as you want, you'll have it."

you lick your lips to control your face expressions. not the time, not the place. just like you say to him, only a few more and you'll be done.

the clothes he's wearing make aemond look taller as if it's actually possible. you admire his poses, his confidence and his awareness of how good he looks. he turns his head for another picture, his eyes following your every move. it's like a wordless conversation between you two.

"can i get one with a smile?" you ask him, your hand directing his last pose. "not too wide, just- a subtle one, please."

"i'm afraid that's not possible if i'm going to give you a smile." he flirts. "maybe you should let someone else take the photo if you need a subtle one."

you hear two girls giggling at the corner. he really thinks he's so fun, doesn't he? it's his world here, he knows how to charm his way and he certainly knows how to be a flirt. you're thankful he's already yours, it would be impossible to handle him otherwise.

after another fifteen minutes, you're all done. you go next to aemond, leaving your camera. people around you move quickly to clean up the place, and fix all the mess that has been made. aemond takes your hand to brush a kiss on your knuckles. his eyes are warm this time, so clear under this lights.

"what do you think?" he asks. "good?"

you nod softly. "probably the best in a long time."

"kind of hard not to." he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer. "i had the best photographer."

you give him a kiss on his cheek but that's all. he's been teasing you all day long. "do you flirt with all your photographers like this, mr. targaryen?"

"absolutely not." he answers, cheekily. "my flirting skills are reserved for only one person."

"i think you owe me a drink." you tell him. "even working is easier than trying to deal with your incessant teasing."

"we'll have dinner first." he says, kissing the side of your head. he doesn't say, but he's tired. "think of what you want to eat when i'm changing, okay? i have a few options if you can't decide."

[atsumwah]

"if you had to pick"

featuring : daichi, oikawa, kita

includes : fluff

notes : this has been in my drafts for way too long ahhh

☆ SAWAMURA DAICHI

practice was over and you guys still had some time left so why not play a game?

tanaka had roped everyone to sit in a circle and play truth or dare so here you were

it was your turn and obviously, not wanting to do some stupid dare by him, chose truth

"if you had to pick between all of us, who would be the best boyfriend?" tanaka asked

you didn't even hesitate on that. "daichi, for sure."

you had a little crush on him, sure, but then again maybe that was too fast

that earned a few hollers and mischievous looks coming from your friends, especially your trouble making juniors.

"oh and why's that?" noya asked with a wink.

you try your best to change the subject but everyone seemed interested in your answer

including daichi who was sporting a blush

"well he's already boyfriend material. a good brother, an even amazing captain, not to mention a real gentleman —" it was your turn to blush when you caught yourself rambling "—so yeah theoretically that's the most obvious answer. okay next"

thankfully it went to someone else and you sighed in relief when the spotlight was off you

after hanging out , you made your way home but you were stopped by daichi himself

"you know if you want, you could see if your theory was true," he said smoothly but you could see a hint of blush on his cheeks as he spoke

☆ OIKAWA TOORU

you knew something would happen when you hung out with the four of them

it was your monthly movie night with the boys so you're all at oikawa's house this time

you still made time for each other despite your schedule

iwaizumi claimed the single arm chair, makki and mattsun sat on the floor and you were seated next to oikawa on the couch

you didn't mind though, maybe some part of you was hoping you were seated next to your crush

you were watching a movie about these friends having a backup husband/wife and makki got really interested in the idea.

it's not a surprise when he stopped mid movie to ask you guys

well, technically, ask you

"say y/n if you had to pick one of us to be your backup, who would it be?"

you looked around them before answering. "oikawa"

said setter looked at you in surprise while makki had this mischievous look in his eyes.

"oh do tell us more."

"he's gonna go pro right?" was the first thing that came to your head aside from the obvious fact you had a crush on him. "might as well marry the rich."

"so you'd marry him for money?"

"and the good looks" you joked before continuing.

"KIDDING but he's actually sweet and I think he'd make a great backup husband"

cue awwing from makki and oikawa subtly hiding his blush

"okay but what makes you think he would want you as his backup" mattsun chipped in

and immediately all eyes were on the man of the hour

you knew it was a silly game but you'd hope he'd pick you

oikawa looked around and cleared his throat before answering.

"well obviously not y/n"

you rolled your eyes at that but deep down that kind of hurt

"why would I have you as my backup when I could have you now?"

say what

you whipped your head towards him and saw how he's blushing

"she's totally gonna reject you now, dude."

☆ KITA SHINSUKE

it is no secret that kita is the perfect gentleman

that is the only reason being inarizaki's manager is so bearable

and you know the humongous crush you had on him helped too

anyway

you were filling up some forms for the team and they were hanging out near you, literally just wasting time and suna decides to ask you questions

and suna just casually goes "y/n if you had to pick one of us to date who would it be?"

"kita."

he didn't stop there

"pick someone who'd you kiss?"

"pick someone you'd kill for?"

"pick someone who'd you cook and clean for"

"look, i'll save you some time. if kita is an option, i pick kita." you said, clearly distracted and not knowing said captain was just behind you blushing like hell

atsumu had other ideas cue evil laugh

"ah, so you have a crush on him huh?"

"isn't that obvious." you retorted.

"it wasn't obvious to me."

you froze. literally frozen on the spot as kita comes up from behind you.

earth please swallow me whole

"oh haha it was a dumb games anyways let's forget about it."

"ah, shame. because I'd do all those things only for you too."

cue sneaky teasing kita

also cue you short circuiting

safe to say this was just the beginning

reblogs are appreciated luvss <3

[weneepie]

mixed feelings w/ bruce wayne rules | m.list

note. hiii i'm back (who knows for how long lmao) but i wanted to write a fake dating au with bruce so here we go! feel free to request, i'll try to do them as soon as possible <3

How difficult it was to be the official girlfriend of no one else than Bruce Wayne himself. It was even more since you weren’t his real girlfriend but only a cover for him to always have someone to bring during those never ending galas. It wasn’t an easy life ; people were always asking questions about your relationship, about an intimacy you didn’t share with him at all. 

Why would you be doing this? Because Bruce was paying you well. More than well actually, it was more than you could ever gain with a classic full-time job. There was no way you would let go of this opportunity just because you were tired of those fake asses everywhere. You were stronger than that, especially for so much money. 

So here you were, talking with some women at one of those parties where he always brought you to. You could sense the jealousy and tension in their tone as they spoke to you. After all, you were supposedly dating the heir of Gotham, the most powerful man in this sick city. You could understand their behavior in a way, you would have probably not be better than them. 

Until you heard a voice you couldn’t recognize. You had come to enough parties to know almost everyone by now, but this one? You couldn’t tell. When you turned around, your eyes laid on a charismatic man, with a charming smile. His blond soft locks were pushed back, giving him a clean look. Behind those blue eyes, you could feel a man that used to have his way with everyone ; you could recognize them so easily. 

“Milady,” he took your hand in his, bringing it closer to his lip so he could leave a gentle kiss on the back of it, against the dark glove that was covering your delicate hand. You were a bit surprised, because no one ever dared touching you like this before. You were here with Bruce Wayne after all, nobody wanted this man against them. 

“It’s an honor to be finally meeting the woman I have heard so much about.” His voice was smooth, too much for it to be without any second thought behind. But all you did was to smile gently at him, your soft gaze laying on his face. You had to be correct, polite ; it was the most important thing, as Bruce always said. 

“And you are?” You asked without a harsh tone, just wanting to know who the man in front of you was. You were curious, you had to admit it. You weren’t used to this kind of behavior at all. And this is how you ended up spending some time with this man, without your supposed boyfriend noticing anything. 

Until he did. And oh God, the man felt something ignite inside his veins. When his eyes laid on your figure, so close to this guy, all smiling and laughing like you rarely did with him, it didn’t feel right, not to him. You should be like this with him, not anyone else. 

You were about to say something when you felt a hand resting against your hip. It didn’t take you long to recognize his touch ; those hands could be to one man alone. You looked at the man with your softest smile, the one you had so much practiced. But he wasn't looking at you. Oh no. All his attention was fixed on the blondie in front of you. 

“Bruce Wayne! What a pleasure.” He offered his hand to Bruce, and you could feel his fingers slightly tensing around your hip. He shook the man’s hand, but it was pure politeness. He had an image to protect, but it was obvious that if it was only him, he would already have hit the guy right in the face for acting so casually with you. 

You didn’t have time to talk much more with the man, because your ‘boyfriend’ decided it was enough for the night, and that you should both be going by now. You were in his expensive car as he drove you back to your apartment. The mood was… awful. Something felt so off, and you couldn’t understand what. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked him, glancing at his figure in the driver’s seat. He frowned a little at his words, just enough for you to notice it. You sighed ; it was really feeling like talking to a child who doesn’t have the toy he wanted. “I did as you told me to, I tried to sympathize.” 

A bitter chuckle left his lips at his words, and this time it was your turn to frown. You didn’t like that, when he was acting like it was your fault when you clearly didn’t do anything wrong. “Speak already!” You snapped at him and he suddenly stopped the car, letting a light gasp leaving your lips. You looked back at him, eyes widened. 

“Are you mad?” You almost yelled at him, and this time he was looking right into your eyes. “You had fun with this stupid guy, uh? Was it so great?” Reality finally hit you. He was jealous. Bruce Wayne, the cold and indifferent heir of Gotham, was jealous of some random guy you spent the night with. You couldn’t believe it. 

“Seriously? What are you scared of, that he paid me enough to leave? I won't-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as Bruce reached your face with his hand to hold your chin between his fingers. He was calm, too calm. “I don’t care about how he could pay you. It’s not about money.”

Not about money? With him? Something was clearly wrong. “It’s about you. You shouldn’t have eyes for anyone else other than me.” He let go of your chin, putting his hand back on the steering wheel, focusing on the road again. 

It was difficult to follow a man who had such mixed feelings, so tortured in his mind. You simply glanced at him, before you looked through the window, waiting for the car to finally arrive at your place. It was not like you could do anything about this anyway. 

Time would tell how things will turn out, but no one other than Bruce could change how it was.

thank you for reading!

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

PLS YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE FICS ABOUT ASTARION the one you did was so good and cute ☹️☹️ i love it

Let Me Clean Your Wounds

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : a long week of hard work leaves your party tired and injured. you offer to clean astarions and to your surprise, he accepts.

warnings : talk about blood.

a/n : thank you anon :0 i STILL have not played baldurs gate (so i apologize again for my lack of knowledge).

It had been an incredibly long week. 

It started by someone in the party pointing out that you had no more money left. So you had to spend your days doing odd jobs for people in the nearby town. 

However, a few of them had failed to mention the fact that their job requests could end up harming you in more ways than one. An easy job, like gathering fruit for an old lady who can’t venture out that far anymore, suddenly turned into fighting a hag in the woods for trespassing on her property. 

The compensation received was hardly enough for the injuries you and your party would gather on your bodies throughout the day. 

As powerful as your group was, being caught off guard by some giant creature in the woods left you at a disadvantage. And when calmly mentioned to the people of the village, suggesting that their pay be higher for sending you to do such strenuous tasks so they wouldn’t be attacked themselves, they threw their arms up to you. 

Calling you greedy and saying you were trying to steal their gold. Of course that didn’t sit well with the nearby guards, and while jumping to conclusions without any investigation, you were thrown in a cell. Not all your party, just you, as the leader. 

You weren’t released until a member of your party persuaded them, using the gold you had just earned from the townspeople’s ridiculous jobs. 

So you packed up your camp, and ventured out to find another village. One where you hadn’t been put behind bars for scheming and trying to steal gold from the elderly. 

When you found a nice spot, and a town that looked to have more than enough gold to go around, you set up camp in the nearby woods. The townspeople were less than friendly, but at least they were honest about their jobs. 

They made it abundantly clear that they would not be handing out charity and that you had to work for the gold you earned. That turned out to be a challenge after a few jobs had been completed , and it had clicked that your party has been consistently acquiring injuries over the last few days. 

Your party was down in power. You were lacking in energy, and it was showing in the way your attacks would fly but often miss or hit with not much force behind them. 

So after completing one last job, and buying some fresh meat from the town, you decided to rest. Finally caving into the exhaustion, you felt almost weak when Lae’zel complained about stopping. But nobody else seemed to have any complaints. 

Lae’zel was hasty to eat, along with almost everybody else in the party. They got a fire started and the warmth hugged your body, but while scanning over everyone’s face you realized just how rough your condition had become . 

Everyone seemed to be holding up all right, you weren’t too worried, but as you looked in closer you noticed Astarion was seated farther away from the fire picking at his skin. 

Curious, you left the warmth of the fire and wandered over to him. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

“No, well, not much. But I don’t think you’d listen if I said I did.” You shook your head at him before taking a seat beside him. 

His face was pretty bruised up, cuts on his cheek and lip. And his arms were covered with scratches that it was continuing to pick at. 

You took another glance before standing up and walking back over to your own tent to grab some bandages, your flask of water, and a rag of some sort to wipe his wounds. When you came back he stared at you with amusement in his eyes. 

“What exactly are you planning to do with all that, darling?” 

“You're covered in cuts, have to clean them up so they don’t scar your pretty face. Let me clean your wounds?” You tried not to let the pet name have any effect over you, but you were sure your thoughts were showing through your cheeks. His hand moved to touch his cheek, as if he didn’t believe that he truly did have any injuries, wincing as his finger brushed against a larger cut. 

“You’re seriously worried about me when you’re in the same condition? For the love of the gods , you were thrown in a cell this week and you're truly worried about some cuts on my cheeks?”

“May I?” You held the rag up in your hands, pouring some water over it. He nodded, hesitantly of course, but he allowed it anyway. 

Gently, you placed the dampened rag over his cuts, wiping away at the dried blood and layer of dirt covering his pale skin. His brows furrowed, the sight causing you to let out a giggle. Usually, Astarion was very closed off, so being this close to him and him allowing you to help him was sort of new to you. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m in pain and your ..giggling?” He tried to be stern and serious, his usual facade, but a small smile was playing at the corner of his lip.  

“I’m sorry,” You let out another giggle as you swiped away at his skin and his eyebrows furrowed once more, “It’s just cute, I’ve never seen your face scrunch up like that.”

He seemed to pause, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. You were being serious. You thought he was cute, when he was covered in blood and dirt. Him showing a little weakness , you thought it was cute? 

“What? I know my face is probably dirty.” You rubbed at your cheek with your free hand, conscious of your appearance as his gaze lingered on your face. He didn’t care though, he was too busy thinking about your words. 

“Cute is an absurd word to use when describing someone like me. I’m too handsome to be described in such ..simple terms.” His smirk returned to his face, your mouth now agape unsure of whether he was serious or not. 

“C’mon now Astarion, I never said you weren’t handsome. I just said you were cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” The rag sat in your lap, his face was clean, his cuts just needed a little cover up. 

“So you do think I’m handsome?” He leaned in closer , his voice captivating. 

“Well I never said that either.” You placed your hand on his chest to distance yourself , ripping off a piece of the bandaging in your hands and manipulating it into place on his cheek. 

He wore a subtle pout on his lips but when you moved in close and kissed his cheek, in a moment of boldness,  it soon fell away. 

Astarion’s hands brushed against your own, taking the damp rag and pouring more water onto the other unused end. 

“My turn, darling.” The rag, making contact with your skin, made goosebumps appear on your skin. It was colder than you expected, and you knew there had to be small cuts littering your face by the way it stung. Your face must have tensed because he took his turn to laugh at you. 

“You know, you are very beautiful, even with your face all scrunched up.” He was mocking you. obviously, but his voice mixed with his compliments made your cheeks flush. 

A final swipe along your cheek and he pulls the rag away, “There. All clean, my dear.” 

His hand reached out to cup your cheek, but before the act became too intimate, he changed his course and ran his hand along the side of your hair to flatten it down. 

“You really are quite pretty .” He knew his words had such a serious effect on you, as you never tried to hide the fact that your feelings for him were far from platonic interest. It was so weird seeing him be so friendly, and flirty in a way that wasn’t meant to manipulate.

“Would you stop? It’s not nice to tease y'know.” 

“And who told you I was teasing, my dear? Was it Lae’zel cause I’ve always thought she might have a thing for me.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, joking. “I would never tease a woman as pretty as you, that would be very cruel of me.” 

“Do you want to join me by the fire?” His gaze shifted to look at the group seated around the fire, he seemed to ponder before looking back at you with furrowed brows. 

“I can smell their horrible odor from here.” You huffed, pushing his shoulder. He looked once more, and seemed to ponder some more but his face was hard enough to read when he wasn’t looking away from you. 

Astarion groaned, ringing out the wet rag still sitting in his hands. “That is not an answer, Astarion. I’m cold, and the fire looks so nice.”

“Fine, if we must, we can go,” You smiled down at him as you stood but it was replaced with a look of shock when he pulled you to sit back down, “On one simple condition.” 

You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want from me?” 

He stayed silent for a second, but as he noticed you becoming increasingly impatient he began to speak.

“A kiss. Not a petty one, and not on my cheek. I mean a real one.” You were flush in the face once more. He seemed totally serious, a permanent smirk painted on his face, but his eyes stared into your own without any sign of humor. You honestly thought he might be mocking you. 

“Okay. I can do that. Easy, but only if you’re nice and say please.” 

“Now who’s teasing.” You only stared at him, sternly. If he wanted to act like a child, and demand rewards in order to complete simple tasks, then you could tease him like one. “Fine. Please…pretty please.”

Your eyes widened, you didn’t think you had ever heard him say please to anyone, let alone add in a “pretty”.

 He didn’t move, he was entirely dead set on this. His face was close enough to yours that you didn’t have to shuffle very far. As gently as you could, in case he decided that he was joking and pulled away, you placed your hands on his face.

One hand cupping his cheek, fingertips rubbing at the hairs falling delicately in front of his ears, the other near the bottom of his cheek and holding onto his jaw. Slowly, you pulled him in until your lips met his. You still weren’t entirely convinced that he was serious, but when his fingers entangled in your hair and pulled you in deeper, you had a hunch that he might not be joking. 

He didn’t let you pull away until he was entirely satisfied. Your breath was heavy, and your skin was hotter than before in multiple ways. 

“I haven’t had a meaningful one in a long time, darling. Thank you.”

“Should we go sit by the fire?” You stood up, legs wavering before stiffening, and you offered him out your hand. He took it in his large one, following you to the fire, sitting beside you. There was a heavy silence, causing you to look around and see everybody's eyes already on you. 

“What?”

“If you guys are gonna keep sucking each other's faces, could you please do it in a tent? You made me lose my appetite.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I’m so sorry for this guys but

AITA for telling someone their horse was masturbating?

Basically does what it says on the tin. For those of you who don’t know horses can masturbate. It’s most common in male horses under the age of three who have not had their testicles removed and who are confined to a stall or small pen and get really bored. They typically grow out of the behaviour once they’re older or given more freedom. Some owners try to train them to stop it from happening but most just ignore it because it’s better than other boredom behaviours like cribbing and wind-sucking (both are SFW to Google btw).

Anyway, I’m a groom and stable hand, mid-twenties now but been working at my job since I was fifteen (part-time then, now full-time). The stable I work at boards horses and gives lessons but also offers training for young horses, so we get a lot of OTTB here – that is “off-the-track Thoroughbreds”, so ex-racing horses that people typically buy cheap and then retrain to be show jumpers or dressage horses or whatever. One such horse is Bert, who is the horse in question in this situation.

Bert has excellent bloodlines but he sucked as a racing horse so he was sold OTT. The man who bought him, I’ll just call him John, knows nothing about horses – he’s a total beginner in every way, has never ridden and pays other people (including me) to take care of Bert, but claims to be an expert in everything equine because Bert cost him so much money (I don’t know the actual amount but he’s in the section of the stable where the $20,000 Warmbloods are boarded so I’m assuming around that amount which is a lot yes but also not the most expensive horse we’ve had here).

Anyway the actual story – I’m at work cleaning out stalls when John walks past, he completely ignores me as he always does so I do the same and get back to work. A few minutes later he goes sprinting back in the opposite direction which I thought was weird but whatever, I kept mucking, until I heard him shouting for help. I went out into the aisle and he’s there shouting at another groom and demanding to know the emergency vets number (it was a weekday morning btw, so he didn’t need the emergency vet, he just needed the regular vet but that’s meaningless anyway). I went over to see what was happening and he tells me his horse (Bert) is ‘acting weird’ and needs a vet immediately, so I offer to go see Bert for myself and then call the vet if necessary.

So basically yeah Bert was masturbating. Had an erection, was rocking about rubbing it on his tummy, and did NOT want anyone going in his stall or touching him. John points at Bert and says something like “see, he’s sick!” and then tells me Bert tried to attack him when he entered the stall and I just, I dunno, I cough and say that Bert is fine and just wants some privacy right now, figuring that the obvious erection might be a giveaway as to what’s happening? But John turned to me and blurts out word for word “are you an actual retard” and then starts cursing at me and telling me I know nothing and Bert needs a vet etc and so on. I kind of blanked on everything else he said after he called me a retard to be honest because WTF? I don’t really know what went on in my brain in the next few seconds but I ended up shouting – yes, shouting, extremely loudly, it fucking echoed in the stable – “he doesn’t need a vet because HE’S JUST MASTURBATING” in John’s face and then walking back to the stall I’d been mucking.

As I got back to the stall I heard laughter from a couple of aisles over. Apparently my co-workers and some riders who were there had all heard me shout and found it hilarious, and that made me laugh too because it was so freaking ridiculous. I honestly kind of forgot the entire encounter afterwards because we had a horse who actually needed a vet a little while later and yeah, John and Bert just slipped my mind.

I didn’t remember until that afternoon when my boss came to see me and said he’d had a complaint from John who wanted me fired. I did not get fired but I did get ‘warned’ (just a formality, my boss didn’t actually punish me but wanted me to act like I had been if John questioned me later, which he never did). John complained that I’d treated him like an idiot, spoken down to him, and “acted above my position” (those were the exact words he used) causing people to laugh at him. I explained the entire situation to my boss, who also laughed, and that was that, nothing else ever came of it aside from my co-workers telling the story of me shouting HE’S MASTURBATING so loudly it scared a pony into jumping so suddenly that it farted to everyone they possibly could.

Since then John has ignored me even more than before which I honestly consider a blessing, and I would leave this situation thinking I’m NTA except that one of my co-workers brought their boyfriend to the stable recently and when they introduced us the boyfriend said something like ‘oh right, you’re the asshole who talks down to people who don’t know everything about horses’ and yeah. My co-worker was blindsided by that as well and we basically both said you don’t have to know everything about horses to know what an erection means, but since then I’ve been wondering if I am TA in this situation? Like, clearly there were better ways to tell John what his horse was doing, but he called me a retard and also I get paid to take care of horses not to teach the birds and the bees to fifty year olds so I don’t know. I’ll let Tumblr decide.

So, AITA for telling John his horse was masturbating?

Additional info: I'm on a rota with other stable hands so I sometimes groom Bert, muck his stall, attend to his vet/farrier appointments, give him worming paste, etc and so on. I am not his trainer and have no input into when he gets to leave his stall. I've mentioned to my boss a couple of times that he boredom stims and should be in a paddock with other young horses, but John refuses to agree to that for reasons I don't know. My boss has since spoken to Bert's trainer who is now trying to convince John to let Bert have more time outdoors.

What are these acronyms?

[brett-is-afraid]

Do you know anything but the Wilbur allegations? I just saw somethings on Twitter and Wilbur also responded

Yeah. So, here's a rundown of the situation so far for anyone who might've missed it or might not know. Each link is going to include a specific timestamp for what was said. TW for detailed abuse

Shubble went live (she begins talking about it at 3:38) and talked about abuse she had experienced from another creator. She talked about how her silence was "only keeping someone else's peace" so she opened up about it.

She specifically did not name any names and stated she was talking about it to help avoid someone else being in the same situation.

She says that in the beginning, he had expressed that he had a tendency to bite and that he'd made sure she was okay with that because he "didn't want her to come back later and say he abused her." And that she had agreed because he had never hurt her, but it had become more often that he bit too hard and hurt her. But that he always seemed, "genuinely sorry" and that they would develop a safeword.

She stated that he would bite her in front of others and that she would have to laugh it off because she was embarrassed.

She specifically talked about being bitten by him and that she had communicated that it was too hard, that she did not like it. She says she was met with him blaming it on her, saying it was her pain tolerance or that she was being dramatic. She states that he would later show off the bruises to their friends and joke that it looked like he abused her. She also states that he would poke at her bruises while they hurt.

She said she had asked him to stop and he said, "this is who he is and he wasn't going to change."

She said he also would constantly contradict himself and would fight her on it sometimes, telling her that he didn't do/say certain things.

She also said he would weaponize the safeword to make sure she was hurting, ignoring their safeword and biting harder for "just a second before letting go" or grinding his teeth down and smile after.

She said she'd express her anxiety to him and he would always reassure her.

She also said she believes he lovebombed her a lot at the beginning and that he'd make really huge romantic gestures. (Calling her his soulmate and writing love letters, etc.)

She stated she'd caught him in lies before, but it had always seemed like it was small things and she didn't address it. He then lied about big things and had been caught by his friends.

She said he insisted he didn't want to break up and expected her to have solutions, but he refused to compromise. And she said he would flaunt that he'd never prioritize her over anything.

He also allegedly stated that he would never prioritize her over anything that would give him more fame and money, admitting that he'd grown to resent her and that was the final push she needed to leave.

She said when they broke up, they'd agree to be friends and that he said he could never imagine not speaking to her again. And then he never talked to her except for when she needed things back. She also said he threw away hundreds of dollars worth of her things.

She said that once, he pinned her down and had her try to get away. When she couldn't, he made that point that he was stronger and she wouldn't be able to fight him back.

She also mentioned that he lived in a really filthy place and that she felt bad for him, believing that he just didn't know how to clean and needed someone to help him. She then states that she found out he had said that he didn't bother cleaning when she wasn't there because he would just wait for her to do it (which she only found out about after they broke up).

She said she did all the cleaning, laundry, paying for all the paper towels/soap. As well as food more than half the time.

She said she also paid for all the tickets and he never offered to pay after the very beginning. She said she also told him that she couldn't afford it and that he never traveled out to see her. He then agreed to pay for the cat sitter and did it once, and never again in the next months they dated.

Shubble never confirmed it was Wilbur, but Wilbur made a statement on it which can be found on his Twitter account.

He stated that allegations had come from an ex-girlfriend and while he claimed that he did not know he was abusing her, that he thought the behavior was consensual. He claimed he had messages that he believed proved it was, but chose not to publish them "out of respect for her."

He stated he was sharing his side to offer his perspective, but not to diminish or invalidate her.

He stated he recognized she felt her and that he wanted to apologize for it, that he had begun therapy and had made changes, committing himself to earning and maintaining trust from those around him.

[Image description in alt ids]

Neither have provided any visual proof or receipts to accompany their side of the story, despite Wilbur claiming to have it. Shubble has also not released any messages that may support her claims, although she never claimed to have them.

Other content creators have spoken about it.

Tubbo said he wanted to wait until Wilbur stated his side and that his response made him angry. He stated people might think he's biased for Wilbur, but they haven't spoken in private often. He also stated the response was "fucking vile" and that Wilbur made it about him. And that people in chat don't have any place in his chat if they're defending domestic abuse and he wants them to unfollow him. That he fully supports watching Shubble for more context.

Niki also spoke about it and stated,

"I see that people expect me to say something about the situation. Truth is that I was freshly 18 years old when I met him, while I did not see a problem with it back then I can now see how harmful he was to my young self and how damaged I am from that time. my time in the uk had some of the darkest moments of my life (and I think people can tell from the way I used to act on stream) I still can’t think too much about everything that happened back then without shaking and I don’t want to, I always felt so unheard whenever I brought up any situation regarding that time. I don’t want to say more as I don’t want to make this situation about myself."

Hannah also encouraged people to support Shubble and that she avoided unfollowing Wilbur at first because she didn't want to out who her abuser. But she has now unfollowed him.

Aimsey also stated Wilbur was not canceled, he was an abuser.

Badlinu also stated he had seen Wilbur be manipulative numerous times.

Billzo also added that he'd also seen Wilbur intimidate and manipulate his friends

As far as I'm aware, that's all that's happened as of now.

Sidenote: this is not an invitation for discourse or me trying to tell anyone how they should feel/react on said situation. This is just me trying to give an objective view of what's happened, please do not start discourse on this post/blog. As always, I will not publish any negativity about any creator as that is not what this blog is for.

[daegutowns]

to be in love (csc)

tags: idol bf!cheol, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, reader is referenced as ‘noona’ and ‘girlfriend’ by svt, 95 line!reader, you surprise cheol (and the rest of svt) during practice one day, svt loves you a lot, you also love them a lot, cheol is more whipped than frosting, not proofread, i'm just going insane don't mind me

no matter how much your boyfriend choi seungcheol told you that his members probably loved you more than him, actions always spoke louder than words. as the leader of the group, seungcheol never held back in spending for the sake of his members. he affectionately called them ‘the kids’ or even sometimes ‘his kids’, and he liked giving out allowance/spending money to them. 

but, none of that mattered. at least, not right now. 

tonight was one of those nights where they had to stay up learning choreography so they could begin cleaning in the following week. by this time, their head choreography instructors were long gone and it was just the thirteen members in their dance studio. when seungcheol’s phone rang, he was at the other side of the practice studio as he went over the choreography with hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan. 

seeing the display name ‘baby’ on seungcheol’s screen, seungkwan picked up instead. “hello? noona?” 

“oh, is this seungkwannie?” your voice asked back, excited. “hi, seungkwan-ah!” 

he smiled, greeting you back. “hi noona! seungcheol hyung is going over choreo right now with hoshi hyung, so i picked up instead.” 

“really? that’s okay,” you hummed. “i’m down in the lobby. if you or someone else isn't busy, do you mind letting me into the rest of the building?”

seungkwan’s eyes scanned around the room, trying to remember which group came next in the choreography. “i think i can send shua hyung and dokyeom hyung?” 

“okay, thank you! make sure you keep it a secret from cheollie. i’ll see you soon, then,” you replied, then ended the call. 

soon, joshua and dokyeom were excitedly making their way down to the lobby after telling everyone else they were just “going to the bathroom.” (this made woozi ask why they were going to the bathroom together, but he quickly lost interest just as fast as he asked the question.) 

when you saw the elevator doors open, you got up from the couch where you were sitting and gave them both a hug. “hi, shua,” you greeted your friend with a hug. when you pulled away, you were immediately swallowed up in another hug by dokyeom. “did dokyeommie miss noona?” 

his cute yes~ made you laugh. you held up two bags of food and two bags of drinks. “help me carry these?” you asked.

the two boys chatted with you as they took all the bags -- because no way would your boyfriend forgive them if they made his girlfriend carry their stuff. they told you that you didn’t need to bring them food, but you could already hear their stomachs growling. you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand. he was definitely hungry right now, and he would let the boys take a bite of his food before he got started. 

when the door opened to the dance studio again, seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan were still working on the choreo together. but, there concentration was broken as soon as seungcheol heard your laugh. his head whipped around, confused and wondering if he was so delirious from exhaustion that he was now hallucinating your voice. he was pleasantly surprised when he saw you laughing as you pinched vernon’s cheeks as his eyes lit up at the food. (“y/n noona,” he simpered, hearts in his eyes as he grabbed a container labelled ‘bononie’.) 

hoshi called for a break, excited to see you too. it seemed like suddenly, a room full of people were swarming you, saying ‘thank you noona’ or ‘thanks y/n’ to you. by the time he got to you, seungkwan was excitedly thanking you for bringing him his favorite iced americano -- even though it was decaf. (you wanted him to be able to sleep!) 

seungcheol wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your head. immediately, one hand reached up to affectionately pat his cheek while the other squeezed his arm around your waist. it was so natural, the way your bodies responded to each other without even needing to talk. 

“i missed you,” he mumbled into your skin. 

you turned around, your eyes warmly gazing at him. your arms draped around the back of his neck while his own arms snaked around your waist again. (the boys were too busy digging in and talking to each other to mind the both of you flirting in front of them.) “aw, i missed you too, my cheollie. i brought your favorite from the kimbap place you like. there wasn’t anything else open this late, so i just stopped by the GS--” your words were cut off by a bunch of kisses around your face, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“i love you,” he said before he leant in to give you a proper kiss. 

before your lips met, jeonghan screamed, “YAH! take that outside. we have food in front of us.” 

seungcheol pursed lips and closed his eyes, wondering what he was going to do about his friend. you, on the other hand, were still gracious. “did our jeonghannie get sick watching us?” you asked in a baby voice, making fun of him. “tsk, just enjoy your food.” you stuck your tongue out at him, making him laugh. 

while the both of you sat down on the floor with the rest of the members, seungcheol opened his box that was labelled with his name. he even caught the order instructions stapled to the bag, where you asked for extra meat on his and to add a bunch of hearts to his name. god, just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you any more than this after being with you for so long! 

he admired the way that you talked to the other members, making sure to hand them napkins if you noticed food around their mouths. he admired that you had gotten off a hard day of work and the first thing you did was take care of him and the people he cared about the most after you and his blood family -- his other family, seventeen. 

when you first started dating, he was worried about them. he knew what it would be like based on other idols’ stories. you date one, you date the whole group. but, you didn’t mind it one bit. if anything, you were always excited to see the boys and were often more worried about them liking her than she was of liking them. whenever he asked you about it, you would say, “of course i love them. they’re your members.” the way you said it like it was so obvious and that any other answer was ridiculous still made butterflies swarm in his stomach. 

feeling more in love by the second, seungcheol pulled you in close, so appreciative he had someone like you in his life. he had never met anything as kind, caring, and genuine as you. he made a mental note to order whatever he had loaded into his cart for you whenever he got home that night. oh, he was going to spoil you so hard. you deserved everything you ever wanted and more.  yeah, he is so in love with you.

[paleepeaches]

John Wick Yandere Headcanons

Never done this before so be kind to me! But anyway I just had these thoughts and needed to word vomit them up!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, ddlg,

A/N: Wouldn't a fic be cute?

Okay so I know I'm not the first to say this and won't be the last but John is a fucking Yandere.

He's a full-blown stalker who probably sees you at a bar or even something so normal as a grocery store.

This man is LONELY af. Since Helen passed he can not find someone else for the life of him.

That's until you come along with your pretty doe eyes and sweet nature.

You can be younger than him and he'll be fine with it. John doesn't mind babysitting a cute bimbo like you

You'll catch his eye with your soft voice and sweet smile. Most people his age have a smoker's voice or are married.

He becomes OBSESSED with you quickly. I mean very swift like within 2 days of seeing you not even talking.

He'll just stalk tf out of you probably at your work. He'll see you bagging groceries or serving drinks and just observe you with customers.

He'll take note of what days you work and don't. He'll mark it on his calendar, and circle it in red like the old man he is.

Once he figures out your schedule and what time you get off, what route you take, if you drive or walk he'll follow you.

He's a skilled hitman so he knows how to disappear and follow someone without them noticing.

He'll stalk you all the way to your apartment and once he's sure you're asleep he'll break in.

He's scoped out your place enough to deduct that you have no pets. Even if you did he'd know how to handle a dog.

John is precise and determined which is why he'd be so keen on placing hidden cameras all over your house.

He'd position them in the living room, kitchen, shower, and even your bedroom.

He'd want to see your most intimate and private moments but not totally invade it.

Of course, you wouldn't find out. Your head is too stuffed in your phone scrolling through social media or online shopping. You got an addiction but it's okay once you're his he'll spoil you! John has a lot of pocket money from all his jobs!

How will he get you?

John doesn't half-ass anything. He's learned to see through tough missions. Even ones he didn't enjoy. Capturing you though...? He would enjoy it.

He'd enjoy setting a date, waiting outside your apartment with his car off.

He'd prepared all the necessary equipment such as ropes, duct tape, and a gun if he needed to threaten you but he'd find that would only scare you more and he didn't want his little girl frightened of him.

He'd go about it more skillfully, more stealthy.

John entered your home after he was sure you entered the deepest REM cycle. He snuck in the window you often left open. Poor forgetful you, always leaving windows unlocked.

One time he found your door unlocked which was a dreadful surprise for him. He locked it right after he watched you sleep for a whole two hours.

See? You needed him to look after you. He'd try to justify his insane actions with that.

With a completely guilt-free head, he'd enter your home, make his way into your bedroom, and see you asleep all cuddled up in your pink plush covers.

You'd look so cute and docile breathing softly.

He'd smile, admiring you before pulling out a clean needled from his jacket pocket. John pricked the needle into a vial of clear liquid, sucking up the fluid before administrating it to you.

Your eyes didn't even flutter open as he injected it.

"Such a good girl." John would speak softly to you, smoothing down your hair and kissing your forehead.

He'd pack your favorite stuffed animal, clothes, and even your cute collections of calico critters or sonny angels, whatever cute trinkets you collected.

He'd want you to feel comfortable at his home. Y'all's home.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 1

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I've been lurking on here for a while, reading Top Gun fics and I recently got inspired to write one of my own. Hopefully someone reads it and likes it!

Note about the format: Between every header is a change in the point of view :)

Summery: When Rooster was med-evaced back to San Diego from the mission field, the last thing he expected was to wake up with a tube down his throat and the most beautiful woman he's ever seen at his bedside.

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.1k

“Hey Carly, I’m taking over for room 4 today. Are you ready to give report?” You ask the cute blonde night shift nurse, she looked about 12 years old. What in the hell was she doing in the ICU of a military hospital? Hell, you should be asking yourself the same question. You hated it here at this boys club where nurses were ignored as a female dominated profession, despite being the people who spend the most amount of time at the patient’s bedside in a 12 hour stretch. But you were only one week into this eight week travel assignment and the money was great, so you just had to grin and bear it and make as few enemies as possible.

“The census is low, is this gonna be your only patient?” She asked.

“Yeah.” You pulled out your report sheet and pen, “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

You could tell Carly was fresh off of orientation by how nervous she looked before beginning to speak.

“Hey,” You placed a comforting hand on her knee, “take your time, tell me what you know, and if I have any questions I’ll ask them when you’re done. You just finished a long shift, it’s okay to be a little out of it. We’ll get all the info we need together. No pressure, okay?”

“Okay,” Carly nodded and took a deep breath, “This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, 35 year old male, full code, no known allergies…”

You quietly took down the pertinent information about Lt. Bradshaw as Carly spoke. He was a pilot, recovered after a crash, and was stitched back together pretty well on the aircraft carrier, he went septic and was transported back to the states to your hospital. Pretty standard stuff. He was currently on a ventilator for breathing support but all seemed to be going in a positive direction despite the shitty circumstances.

Carly finished her report with a sigh of relief, you had a feeling the staff nurses weren’t as respectful when receiving report from a new graduate. “Any questions?”

“Any family  at the bedside?” You asked.

“No, no family. Apparently a guy named Pete Mitchell calls daily for updates, they’re not related but he’s included on the patient’s medical information release forms, so we can talk to him. Chart says he’s single, no siblings, and both parents have passed away.” Carly yawned, she was beginning to fade after a long night. You didn’t want to hold her up anymore than necessary, she needed to get home and go to bed.

“Okay,” You clicked your pen, “Sounds good. Let’s go check lines and meds so you can get out of here.”

She paused for a second as you got up from your chair at the nurses station, “Y/N… thank you for being so nice… I’m only a week off of orientation and things are still so new…”

You smiled at the compliment, “We’ve all been there. Every nurse on this unit was new at one point and I think sometimes they forget that. Hell, I’m a traveler and this is only my second week and there’s so much that’s new to me too. You’re doing great.”

You spent the first part of your morning before rounds with the care team just cleaning up the patient, organizing the room, all that good stuff. Though it wasn’t necessarily considered “professional”, you played some music softly from your phone as you worked. You found that music or just talking to patients on vents helped with agitation. You couldn’t imagine anything more tortuous than listening to repetitive beeping and alarms all day long and nothing else. Though most managers didn’t like it, that didn’t stop you. What were they gonna do? Fire you? Hospitals hire travelers at such a high price point when they’re understaffed and desperate. They needed you more than you needed them.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“When the sun goes down, we’ll be groovin’

When the sun goes down, we’ll feel alright

When the sun sinks down over the water

Everything is hotter when the sun goes down…”

Who the fuck listens to Kenny Chesney anymore? Rooster thought to himself.

He knew he was sick, the docs on the ship told him that before they knocked him out to shove the tube down his throat. They told him he’d be med-evaced back to San Diego because the hospital where he was overseas didn’t have the capabilities to take care of someone as sick as him. He didn’t know how long he had been there, all the days run together when you’re too weak to open your eyes. He was used to having things done to him, he was past the point of getting agitated about it, because he knew they’d just sedate him more.

“Alright, Bradshaw.” A confident voice said, “All of your lines are untangled, your room is clean, and your initial assessment is done… How about we have a little spa day? You’re smellin’ a little… ripe.”

RUDE! 

“HA! You can hear me! You raised your eyebrows!” She giggled, damn it was a cute giggle. Rooster honestly hadn’t realized he was moving his face. But he believed her because that’s what his face usually does when he’s surprised. “You’ve been caught. No more playing dumb.”

Water started running, splashing, and the suction was turned on… that sound usually meant his mouth was gonna get cleaned and he was gonna feel something funny down his throat. He hated it.

“Carly told me you were getting agitated during mouth care last night. Since you can hear me, I’m going to tell you everything I’m doing, so don’t get sassy with me.” She said, “Deal?”

Anything for the first person not to treat me like a damn vegetable. This was the first time someone actually talked to him and told him what the fuck was happening since he got here. It was a welcome change.

The kind yet sassy voice interrupted his thoughts, “Okay, mouth care. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

She didn’t lie to him, she was quick and the stupid suction caused him minimal discomfort. Maybe it was because he could brace himself, or maybe it was because she was just really good at her job.

“I’m about to give you a full body bath, so how about we get to know each other a little bit.” She said as she adjusted his sheets and pillows to reposition him, placing a towel under his head, and rinsing his hair with warm water.

Rooster’s whole body relaxed.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m obviously your nurse today and will probably be for the next few days…” Nurse Y/N went on about where she’s from, her hobbies, how she’s not making many friends in this new hospital she’s been contracted out to.

Welcome to the military, it’s a boy’s club. He wished he could say that to her. He imagined medicine was similar to aviation, full of egos.

Before Rooster knew it, his whole body had been washed from head to toe. He hadn’t felt this clean in what felt like years.

“So Lieutenant… not to be crude but… I gotta clean your bits. But at least we’ve really gotten to know each other.” Nurse Y/N said, “Your girlfriend will thank me later.”

Ha! Rooster laughed to himself, What girlfriend?! My dick hasn’t been played with in months!

Like with the mouth care, her cleaning was quick and respectful. And damn, being clean felt so good. She went on to change his gown, sheets, and blankets. Rooster truly felt like a new man.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, you’ve never looked better.” She said with a satisfied sigh.

That’s a damn lie, but I’ll take the compliments wherever I can get them at this point.

“Hey Y/N,” Another female voice said, “They’re starting with you for rounds. Are you ready to present your patient or should I stall?”

“Nah, I’m ready. Tell them to come in whenever.” Nurse Y/N said, then her voice got low and she whispered to Bradley, “I’m gonna try to get them to lighten your sedation and move towards trials of turning the ventilator off. It’s not gonna be comfortable but the sooner we start working towards getting that tube out of your throat, the sooner you can get the hell out of here.”

Rooster wanted to make sure she knew he heard her and that he was on board, it took every ounce of strength in his body, but he nodded.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“No way.” The resident physician said simply after you gave your recommendation with your presentation of Lt. Bradshaw

You were dumbfounded. What the hell did he mean no?!, “This patient was more than ready to move towards extubation.” 

“And what makes you the expert?” the resident asked.

Oh lord, this fresh out of med school asshole was turning rounds into a dick measuring contest.

“The fact that I’ve been at his bedside for the past three and a half hours, I assessed him, bathed him, turned him, and he is showing signs of progress. The next step is spontaneous breathing trials and extubation. The longer he stays on the vent, the more likely he is to get pneumonia, as we all should know, Doctor.” You explained coolly but made sure to add his (probably newly earned) title. 

“I agree with…” The attending looked at you and scanned your badge, “... Y/N… What do you think from a Respiratory Therapy standpoint, Brent?” He looked over at Brent, the RT.

Brent smirked and narrowed his eyes at the resident, “I also think moving towards extubation is a good thing. If he has two successful trials, he could be off the vent by the end of the day.”

The attending physician nodded, “Then it’s a plan. And I think this is a really good lesson for the residents and medical students with us on rounds, the nurses know more about the patient than we do. We should always consider their recommendations because they have the most valuable view on the patient, simply because they spend time with them.”

You tried to dim the glow that was on your face.

 “Thanks, Dr…” You scanned the attending’s badge the same way he did yours.

“Carter, Brendan Carter.” He extended his hand and you shook it, “Glad to have you here.”

That was the most welcome anyone had made you feel in the last week here. Who would’ve thought a wrinkly old attending doctor with dancing eyes would be the person to stand up for you and make you feel secure in your clinical decision making.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster wasn’t sure how much time had gone by since Nurse Y/N told him she was turning down his sedatives but it felt like he could open his eyes almost instantly. It was so… bright. Once his eyes adjusted, he scanned his surroundings, the lights weren’t even on but the sun shining through the large window felt blinding. He looked to his left and saw the machine that the tube in his throat was attached to, the machine that had kept him alive for God knows how long. He looked to his right and saw multiple IV poles that attached him to lines and lines of medicine and fluid. Further to his right, he saw a woman standing at a computer, typing away furiously, her face was serious yet beautiful, was that Nurse Y/N?

“Good morning, Lt. Bradshaw.” She said quietly, “You’re still attached to your breathing tube, so you can’t talk. Now that you’re awake we’re one step closer to getting you off that thing. Sound good?”

Rooster nodded slowly, wishing he could thank her for everything. For talking to him, bathing him, treating him like a human-being.

“Do you feel strong enough to write?” She asked, “Can I get you a whiteboard?”

He nodded again.

“I’ll be right back.” She swiftly left the room. 

Rooster couldn’t help but love watching her walk away. Along with a beautiful face, he could tell she had a great body hiding underneath those scrubs. It had been so long since he’d seen a pretty girl.

She returned quickly with a whiteboard and a marker, handing it to him, “What’s on your mind Lieutenant?”

Call me Bradley. He scribbled, 

“Nice to meet you Bradley.” She smiled down at him, “How are ya feelin’?”

Better now that I’m clean and awake. He wrote.

“There’s something healing about a bath and being taken out of your drug induced sleep, huh?” She giggled.

Rooster nodded and started writing again, Thank you for everything.

“No biggie. I’m glad to see you doing so well. Is it okay if I do a full assessment on you, just since you’re awake now?” She asked.

He nodded, this girl could do anything she wanted to him. She was basically his angel.