#is not exactly good this year but at least im not sick

[aeroplaneblues]

One More😊

I made Alhaitham laugh and Cyno pout for my birthday, hope y'all have a happy Anne day like these two🥰💜💚

[ctrlhope]

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[witchxxjpg]

im happy that you liked my previous lestappen hunger games au🥳🥳🥳 and asked for a part of it. it is alive purely because of you, so enjoy!!

******

Charles got picked when he was just 12 years old. It was rare for a tribute to be that young but it happened sometimes.

Jules volunteered for him that year. He could've been 18 the following month but he stayed 17 forever. Charles would always remeber staying up all night to pray for him.

Charles would forever remeber seeing another tribute slashing his throat with a sword.

The whole 10th district mourned his death that day, raising a finger to the sky, pointing to the place where all people went. He was a caring and passionate guy. Even some other districts said their sorries. He was loved by everyone. And by Charles the most.

In just 5 years Arthur was picked. And Charles knew exactly what he needed to do.

The Capitol played his life as a tragic story of a boy who repayed his debt by volunteering himself for his little brother. He knew that Jules didn't want that, but he also knew that Arthur was too small and scared to be a tribute.

He won his games.

He portrayed the role of an innocent brother with angelic face and a pure goal. He wanted to believe the lies that the Capitol made him play. But everyone saw how Markus, a boy from district 4, died. With a dagger in his heart.

Charles was always good with daggers and knives. In his district he was terrible at caring for animals that his family was all looking after. But he was extremely good with skinning and preparing the meat to be sent to the Capitol. He used his skills well during his games.

He never had nightmares. But he saw traits of lost tributes in faces of all people.

Charles lived peacefully for 6 years.

He was more or less lucky with how the Capitol treated him afterwards. He was well aware of how pretty looking tributes ended up. But his role was to motivate all the districts to behave. They filmed a lot of videos with him that they called 'promotional'. To show what happened to people who disobeyed and to people who behaved themselves.

Charles was sick of doing all these lies, but it was better then being a toy for some moneybags.

After 6 years the 75th Hunger Games were announced. The Third Quarter Quell.

There were only three male winners from District 10. Sebastian and Kimi. And Charles.

Charles was picked again. He said his goodbyes to his family.

He was aware that these games would be different and he knew that he won't walk out of them alive. He at least was happy that Sebastian agreed to be his mentor this time too.

******

Max was born to win. That's what his father always said. He was trained all his early childhood to become a winner of the games.

That's why as soon as he turned legal age he volunteered.

His father pressured him into the games and never helped. Max was lucky to have Daniel as his mentor.

He won his first games of course. The youngest winner ever and with a record of most tributes eliminated.

He'd thought that he'd never have nightmares. But now he knew.

Max was just 13 when he won, but as soon as he started to understand the world he knew that he was doomed.

Doomed ro relive memories of his father's puppet.

Max dreamed of his snowy arena. Of all 12 kids that he killed with his axe. Of their distorted faces and hoarse screams. He never wanted to fall asleep again.

After the games he continued to study in the academy to be a peacekeeper. He wanted ro do at least something good. He finished with the highest grades and best results. He was offered a position as a Head Peacekeeper. He chose District 10.

He saw people from District 10 selebrate its win when that boy returned home. He saw them raising a finger to the sky. 'The chosen one'. That's how they called him. Charles.

Max saw him sometimes. When he went to the central fair or left to the Victor's Village. He saw how people treated him. Like a son or a close friend. And he treated them the same.

He was their victor.

All winners had perks and Max saw how he gave them all away to people of his district.

Max had to suppress his inner urge to reach out for him. To ask if he felt the same way.

Like a broken tool that no longer had a purpose to serve

Probably he didn't. He helped his people. And Max was a peacekeeper, wearing a mask to hide his face that's outlined by all the deaths that he'd caused.

He tried to reduce people's suffering.

He was a peacekeeper for 8 years.

When the time of the 75th Hunger Games came closer, Max knew about the Third Quater Quell and how it would be like.

There were a lot of winners to compete for District 2, but during the reaping Daniel was chosen. Max didn't doubt that Daniel would've won the quill, but Max saw the trace that the games had left on him. He saw how the games had treated him. He knew Daniel's story.

Max volunteered again.

Long time ago he cared about himself. But he didn't anymore.

He saw that boy from District 10 being chosen too.

******

Daniel was born in District 2, but his parents weren't.

He never felt like he fit with all the others.

Since young age he had to attend the academy to train there like every child of the second district muct do. He always hated it.

He read once in some old book from the library a phrase that made him understand what he felt. 'Like a bird in a cage'. His 6 year old self was very impressed.

Daniel liked all his survival classes, the ones that didn't include murders. All of his classmates hated them.

He was never like the others. When he first got to his class he tried to make friends. That's what his parents advised him to do. He tried to smile and tell stupid jokes, to share home-made food with the others and help them study. He tried to be himself.

But it never quite worked.

Everyone laughed at him and not with him. They pointed at him, calling him 'a dumb weirdo'. They took his food away and threw it in a garbage bin. They locked him in storage rooms to skip classes that caused him a lot of warnings and later detentions.

Daniel tried not to notice them but he couldn't. He spent most of his life in the academy with bruises on all his body parts and tears on his cheeks. He knew that he was not like the others but he didn't think that he was so difficult that people can't be in the same room as him.

Until he turned 17.

All students from the academy had a queue for games. Everyone fought to have a chance to win the games. And when the reaping started someone from the list of volunteers would go.

Daniel was picked for the 64th Hunger Games. He thought that someone from the careers would volunteer as they always did. But everybody kept silent.

It felt like a death sentence.

His mentor was Mark. He was fun and helpful. He advised to make friends.

On the first meeting with tributes Daniel decided that he liked only Jev from District 8 and Jules from District 10. They were both nice and didn't laugh at his attempts to be nice too. It was the first time that he thought he could have a friend.

It didn't last long.

Jev was one of the first to get eliminated. Daniel and Jules tried to stay together. But one day into the games they had to part ways to get food and water.

The next time Daniel saw him was with a sword slashing his throat.

He tried to heal the wound but his knowledge wasn't enough.

Before Jules passed away he gave Daniel his lucky charm - a small wooden statuette of a bird. Daniel wouldn later return it to his godson.

Daniel won the games. He knew that nobody from his district expected that.

The following year he decided to become a mentor. For 13 year old Max.

Max was always angry with his bright icy eyes shining with rage. But he also wasn't like others.

He was one of the careers, but Daniel didn't see their traits in him. Max didn't want to win for glory and pride.

He just wanted to make his dad happy with him.

Daniel tried to teach him how to live in this world. He tried to make him realise that he didn't need to kill all 23 of tributes for his dad to be happy with his son. He tried to make him feel better. He tried to joke and make him laugh as all early teenagers his age should do.

And he felt pretty cool when he succeeded in that, hearing his small laugh with a shy smile.

He knew that the boy liked him but he didn't know what to do.

And then Max won his games.

He stood there on the podium with a prideful expression on his face, but all Daniel saw were his empty eyes filled with something.

And Daniel was well aware what was that something. He saw it in himself every time he looked in the mirror.

Daniel tried to reach out when Max told him that he's going to be a peacekeeper. They even met sometimes when he was still studying in the academy.

After Max graduated he was sent to District 10 to serve there. And Daniel tried to still talk to him. Even when Max was very busy with his duties they called each other. And Daniel was always happy to hear his voice.

Daniel made friends among other winners. He had Lewis and Sebastian. But there was still something about Max that made Daniel care.

The next time they saw each other was right before the reaping for the Quarter Quell. All of the victors from District 2 were in the same hall, and there were a lot of them.

Daniel barely recognized Max with all the years that they spent apart. He looked broad and tall, even taller then Daniel. Nothing like a 13 year old boy that had won the games. His face was completely different, a strong jaw and no chubby cheeks.

But his eyes. They were still empty.

They shared an awkward hug and Daniel felt too good in his arms. He wished they could stay together for longer.

And he felt fine until his name was called.

He was picked.

Almost third of all the winners were from District 2, so Daniel thought that he wouldn't be in the games again.

He didn't have the time to think because Max volunteered.

When he looked at Daniel his face didn't hold a trace of uncertainty. He looked calm and sure. And his beautiful eyes flickered with something. But it wasn't the same something as after his games. It was something different.

And in a week he found himself in the same situation like 10 years ago.

Helping Max win.

******

Sebastian though he was a good mentor.

He took this role after his win at the 61st Hunger Games. He was the second male victor from District 2.

Kimi was a good mentor too. He was always calm and confident. Sometimes he felt distant but Seb never had a feeling that he didn't care about his tributes.

Sebastial saw a lot of good children that competed in the games. He saw all of them die.

He was a mentor for 8 years until he met Charles.

Everyone in District 10 knew Charles. His family had one of the biggest farms and Charles was extremely skilled with daggers. And everyone knew his story.

Sebastian still remembered mentoring Jules.

For Charles he decided to go for a sad story. That's how they can get more sponsors.

Charles was a pretty good actor and quickly understood what worked the best to get a reaction from the audience. He played well with his adoring face and big eyes.

Even before the games started they had enough donations for Seb to sent him daggers as a sponsor dift, so he didn't need to fight for the weapons.

And Charles won.

It wasn't something that Sebastian was surprised about. But he didn't think that he'd ever experience some kind of happiness. And here it was.

They both lived in Victor's Village. It was almost empty except for 5 houses that were also occupied by Kimi, Silvia and Lily. Both women preferred to live in the Capitol, so usually there were only three of them.

They even met every day for dinners together. It could get lonely sometimes.

Kimi had a family. A beautiful wife and two amazing kids. Seb loved them.

He didn't understand how Kimi could live knowing that his children might go through the same thing in the future. Seb knew that he didn't want kids because he wouldn't be able to live if one of them was picked for the games.

Sebastian waited for the Third Quarter Quell.

When it was announced Charles said that he would go for them if he or Kimi were chosen.

It wasn't necessary. Charles' name was called.

Sebastian knew that it was his duty to protect him.

They decided on the same strategy. Play nice and innocent for the sponsors.

When asked about alliance, Charles said that he wanted Carlos and Max. Seb would've advised on Lewis. But knowing that Nico from District 1 was participating, he would be too occupied fighting his biggest enemy.

Sebastian thought that Carlos was a good option. He was strong and not that arrogant. His help would be great.

But Max was different.

Even though Seb trusted Daniel who said that he was good, he still wasn't so sure.

Max was always quite complicated. He was too aggressive and forward, and despite everything that Daniel told him Seb didn't like him.

The games started in no time.

Charles knew their strategy well. He teamed with Carlos as soon as everything started.

They ran together.

They did pretty good during the first couple of days. Even succeeded in stealing an axe for Carlos and a knife for Charles.

This time the arena was a forest and it got pretty cold fast. They had to help each other.

They found a beautiful lake and a well-hidden cave nearby. There was also a small field with a lot of growing poppies that made it look as it was cowered in drops of blood.

On the first day near the lake Carlos made a small bouquet of them and gave it to Charles.

Sebastian thought that they were a good team. Trusting each other. He saw that something was growing between them.

Until one day Carlos got a spiked arrow in his right shoulder.

Everyone understood that he wouldn't be able to walk out alive.

Sebastian saw Charles trying to help him with all his herbalism skills, Seb himself sent them some good ointment to heal the wound. But it still wasn't helping.

He saw Carlos screaming in agony and Charles crying over his feverish body. Carlos begging Charles to kill him and end his suffering.

They all saw Charles putting his knife on Carlos' throat, choking on tears.

Charles buried him near the shore of the lake, filling his grave with bright red poppies.

The next day Charles decided to go search for the others. He packed all his things and took Carlos' axe. He was shit at working with it but it was his only great weapon as his knife had become dull. And he still remembered some of the tips that Max had shared with him during their training out of the blue.

He walked the whole day and thought that he wouldn't see anyone. But just as the sun set he saw a flicker of light in the distance. As he quickly and quietly approached the bonfire, holding the axe at ready, he noticed him. It was Max.

And Max noticed him too.

"I don't want to kill you", Charles said.

And Max answered, "I don't want to kill you either".

They were awkward at first but Max reached to his backpack and pulled three daggers. "They might suit you better then me. I have no idea what to do with them".

Charles took the gift and decided to give Carlos' axe away in return.

They didn't sleep at night, not really trusting each other yet, and talked. And appeared that they had a lot in common.

Sebastian saw all of this.

He just hoped that it wouldn't end up terrible. And that he wouldn't need to mourn another friend.

[ccswife]

Oh No..

----------------------------------------------------------------

part 4: is it working?

previous

pairing๛: kate martin x iowau!reader

synopsis๛: kate catches you watching your saved edits of her

warnings: slight angst (barely)

not a lot of dialogue in this one, but low-key proof read :D

----------------------------------------------------------------

It's sunday morning, and you wake up to a bright ray of sun in your face, peeking through the barely-shut curtains. turning over in your very, very warm bed, you notice the time on your phone.

as well as some notifications..

9:23AM

notification center

3 messages from bear🐻

[goodmorning star sunshine!]

[hows the hangover?]

[r u alive]

you reply to her texts and chat for a little bit. she admits halfway through your in-depth conversation about what you drank and what color your throwup was, that she didnt remember anything from last night. ANYTHING. your head was already reeling from the raging hangover you had aquired, and this made it ten times worse. you begin to play a game of eenie-minie-moe with yourself. "do i tell her? do i say nothing? do i ruin it? do i protect my own feelings?" after at least 7 minutes, you come to the conclusion to not say anything. hey, you know what they say! ignorance is bliss!

you climb out of bed and grab some clothes to go take a hot bath. bathes are very good on tense muscles, and aroma-therapy helps to ease anxiety, reduce inflammation and sooth headaches. it was about 10 when you hopped in, and you planned to stay there till the water got cold. after the fact, you showered quickly to wash the grime off and get the hairspray out of your hair. finally getting dressed into a comfy pair of sweats and a oversized shirt, you go to cook some breakfast. cooking breakfast always was a good thinking time for you, as it wasnt super busy in the mornings and you could stand there and watch the eggs or pancakes cook whilst contemplating every decision you have ever made leading up to that moment. todays topic was " what the hell did i do to get into this position with the girl i love!" and it did not dissapoint! feeling that the topic was actually taking years off your life, you decide to give yourself a kate break and call out of work for monday. you used the "im sick *cough cough* and i never take days off!" excuse and it worked surprisingly well!

after a calm morning and breakfast, you chilled on the couch and put on a random show for some backround noise. it was now about 11ish, nearning 12. scrolling through instagram reels, you get a notification that kate posted on her story. (yes, you have her story notifs on.) clicking on the notif, it brings you to her story.

you nearly dropped your phone.

another woman....hiding her face..... LUNCH DATE?!?!?!?!? so shes seeing someone? you've never seen this woman in your life, so obviously a secret. even from you, her best friend. honestly, it took some life out of you. with everything going on between you two, you didn't exactly know how to feel. did you deserve to feel like this, like you had been "betrayed"? part of you knew that that was a little dramatic, but nevertheless still very valid. if there was one thing that Kate and the girls had taught you, its that your feelings will always be valid, whether they change or stay the same. these specific feelings made you lose your appetite, and frankly the will to live. aggressively turning your phone off, you get out of the deep crevice you were shoved in on your couch and make your way back to the bedroom.

"and here, I shall lay"

you dramatically say as you fall onto the bed, draping a hand on your forehead as you do so. you opt to watch "Crazy Rich Asians", just to believe-in some sort of love, and cuddle up in between the sheets. half-way through the movie, you feel multiple buzzes from your phone. opening it up, you see a bunch of texts from a very worried gabbie and caitlin. they know what happened last night, so the story she posted as alarming to them as well.

shhhh🤫

gabbie babbie wabbie

y/n are you alive

sos

hello

caity baby

we saw kates story

obviously its not u cuz ur not tagged

r u ok

gabbie babbie wabbie

lil harsh there cait...

caity baby

whoops sorry

but r u alive

get out of bed

gabbie babbie wabbie

y/n🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

hello🥺🥺🥺

answer pls we miss you and wanna know ur alive

caity baby

y/nnnnnnnnnnn

after scrolling through the messages, you liked a few and explained you were ok, and that you took tomorrow off and are gonna lay in bed for a while. they remind you to eat and be good to yourself and you reluctantly agree and promise to them that you'll comply. finally finishing your heart-wrenching movie, you fall into a light sleep. periodically you respond to your texts, as kate had been texting you quite normally. this includes all the regular nicknames and stupid jokes she always made. you'd be lying if you didn't love the normalcy she was exuding, and that it didn't bring you comfort in your relationship. it just solidified your decision to not tell her about last night, in order to keep what you two have now. you were sure that you could shove all the feelings down and support your long time best-friend in her romantic endeavors (not with you). at about 7 o'clock, kate asked if she could 'stop by' and obviously you agreed.

IF you were being 100% honest with yourself, you were seriously nervous. you hoped that you wouldn't slip about what happened and how you felt about the insta story. at exactly 7:16pm, kate knocked on the door of your apartment and you graciously let her in, immediately being engulfed into a bear hug. she had the biggest smile on her face as she pulled back to look at you.

"hello beautiful" she tucks a piece of hair behind your earn, rubbing her thumb against your blushed cheek. "I missed you today! it feels like its been forever" she pouts at you, doing her signature puppy eyes.

you giggle at her and reply in a blissful tone. "ive missed you too katie bear, how was your day?" pulling away from you, she starts to walk to your bed room, you following close behind. " it was actually really good! I had a really good lunch today. you would've died at how good it was. it was some Italian place downtown." she draws out the emphasis on 'really', and continues to talk as she plops on to your bed. " I went out with my friend nancy, she graduated last year and is interning at a dental place by school" you join her on the bed. "oh yea? is she a new friend?" curiosity killed the cat, but you tried to be as discrete as you could with the tone of your voice. obviously since she was talking about it, she is open to the subject. kate goes on to rant about how she's her new friend, how they met at a coffee place, blah blah blah. then she gets to the surprising part.

"-and then after we talked about edits, she mentioned how she has a whole folder of them! I dont think ive met anyone with a folder of women's ball edits! it was so funny, and then she mentioned how there were a few of me in it! I laughed so hard I-" after she said that you stopped listening and internally crashed out. never met anyone with that?????? does she not remember catching you???? it genuinely boggled you how one of the only people that remembers every single detail about you could forget that. deciding again not to say anything, you mentally join back into the conversation and give her 'mm's and 'ohh yea's to let her know you were acknowledging her rant. the conversation slowly turned into showing each other stupid tiktoks and reels. both of your eyes began to droop, and whilst laying on each other, the two of you fell asleep.

and together you peacefully slept, blissfully unaware of anything else happening in the world

----------------------------------------------------------------

a/n ◕‿↼ : wooooo finally chapter 4!!!! I finally got a laptop so this is way more fun and wayyy easier to do so im a tad bit more motivated. I know this one wasn't the most exciting and didn't hav much dialogue but there's a lot to come guys dont worry I'm cooking up some good chapters. love you pookies! enjoy pls🤗

[paleprincessturtle]

dad!Harvey playing in the snow with his baby girl 🥺🥺🥺🥺 Im getting so soft for dad!harvey im sorry in advance bc im gonna tell you all of my ideas😋 - @lafantasiaworld

Thank you @lafantasiaworld for the request and please do keep 'em coming! I hope you enjoy this one!

Yes yes yes, I got carried away (again) writing this. But who could resist dad!Harvey?!?!?!

GOLDEN GLOW

"Sunny, still not feeling well?" Harvey caressed the cheek of his sleeping wife. Harvey decided to bring his family over to Aspen for a vacation after the new year. His wife opened her eyes, and Harvey sat down beside her on the bed. "I don't feel too good, but I feel a little better," his wife answered, tiresome lingered in her voice. "I'm sorry, I got sick on our vacation," she continued as Harvey shook his head. "Nothing is more important than for you to get better." Harvey leaned down and kissed the tip of his wife's nose. She giggled, and relief washed over him. At least she could giggle now. A familiar pitter-patter approached the room, about to disturb the silence Harvey and his wife were enjoying. "Daddy!!!" the high-pitched voice announced her arrival before anyone could see the source of the voice. Both Harvey and his wife laughed. Guilt heaved in her heart. They were supposed to go outside and play in the snow. "Daddy, you told me not to bother mommy; why are you bothering her?" the little girl said as she approached the large bed both her parents shared. She wiggled herself around and tried to get onto the bed. The little girl stood on the bed, holding Harvey's face in her tiny arms. "Daddy, answer," she demanded, all serious. His wife laughed at the antics her firstborn always threw. "Daddy was just checking up on me, my sweet girl." The little girl looked at his mom, then looked back at his father. "Do you really?" she questioned her father still. "Yes, my little dove." Harvey grinned as he answered. His daughter was very persistent, much like her father. "Come on!" Harvey hoisted his little girl as he stood up. "Let's let mommy rest so we can go out and play in the snow." His little girl squealed and wriggled out of Harvey's arms. "We really will?" Harvey's heart warmed at the sight of his daughter's eyes, gleaming with joy. "Go on and bundle up. Do you need help?" Harvey offered, as his daughter had already taken off running from the bedroom and heard a distant no.

"Daddy! Why are you taking so long?" Harvey laughed heartily as he heard the impatience of his daughter. Clarice Sophia Specter. A daughter who looked like an exact copy of her father. She acted exactly like her father, but with the eyes of her mother. She made a spectacle even before she was born. Arrived a week early when her mother was in the courtroom, defending a falsely accused man. The moment Harvey looked into the eyes of his newborn daughter, he swore that she would be the death of him. Harvey walked over to his daughter, who was tapping her tiny boots impatiently over the hardwood floor. "You are taking like forever and more, daddy," she pouted, reaching her hand up for Harvey to hold. Harvey took her tiny hand in his. "The shoelaces on my boots were tangled up, Soph." Harvey offered her an explanation as he looked down at his daughter. Sophia then proceeded to look at her father's boots and examine the boots for any further errors regarding the shoelaces. "Be careful, daddy. Don't get hurt," her little eyes wandered over Harvey's. Harvey kneeled over her daughter. "I won't. Don't worry about me, little dove. Thank you for checking up on me." Harvey kissed her daughter on her plump cheek, and she giggled. "You're welcome, but come on, daddy! Let's go play; come on, come on!"

"Sophia! Slow down!" Harvey called as she ran off and bolted out as soon as he opened the cabin's door. Harvey tried to catch up with his daughter. Harvey finally saw his daughter in the clearing of the forest near the cabin they rented. The snowflakes gently danced from the sky, creating a magical scene. Sophia twirled around, arms outstretched, trying to catch the delicate flakes on her tongue. Harvey's heart warmed at the sight of his daughter, so young and innocent. Upon realizing that her father was watching her, she called him, "Daddy, look!" Sophia twirled again, and she ran to Harvey, tongue out. She stood in front of Harvey, pointing at her tongue. Harvey laughed. "The snowflakes have already melted, sweetheart." Sophia pouted, "But didn't you see?" She asked, all excited. "Yes, Soph. I saw all the snowflakes you caught." She giggled upon hearing her father's answer.

Sophia, adorned in her colorful snowsuit, eagerly tugged on her father's hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Daddy daddy, let's make snow angels, and we take pictures and we show mommy!" Harvey couldn't resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm. He chuckled warmly and agreed. "There, Soph, you go first while I take a video of you to send to mommy." Harvey pointed to a rather flat layer of snow. Sophia pouted as she looked up at Harvey. "Daddy, we do it together." Harvey was touched by her daughter's answer. "Come on then, I'll race you there!" Harvey ran off, earning a protest from the little Miss Specter. Harvey ran slower, letting her daughter win. "Me win, me win!" Sophia danced as Harvey pretended to be out of breath. "Wow, I should tell mommy that Sophia is now a big girl!" Harvey exclaimed as he tackled his daughter to the snow, making sure it wasn't a hard fall. Sophia giggled joyously as Harvey joined her in a fit of laughter. The two of them laid down on the snow as their laughter died down. "Daddy, why is mommy sick?" Harvey looked at his daughter as the pair of identical eyes of his wife stared back at him. "Remember we told you that you were going to be a big sister?" Sophia nodded. "Mommy got sick because carrying a baby is a hard job, Soph." Harvey could see his daughter's eyebrows knit together. "Mommy got sick because of the baby?" Harvey shook his head. "No, mommy was just tired because she has been a superhero for us. Carrying your baby brother, taking care of me and you, and she also has to work." Sophia nodded, satisfied by her father's answer. "I love you, my little dove," Harvey said as he kissed the top of his daughter's head. "No, daddy, I love you more than you love me." Harvey was about to argue when his daughter cut him off. "Now, watch, daddy. This is how you make snow angels." Sophia moved her hands and legs, showing her father how to make snow angels, as if her father were clueless on how to do so. Harvey smiled as he watched her daughter, heart full of love. 

As they strolled through the snow-covered streets, Harvey couldn't help but marvel at his daughter's unbridled happiness. Sophia, however, had a mischievous glint in her eye. She scooped up a handful of snow and playfully tossed it at her father, who pretended to be surprised.

"Daddy, let's build a snowman!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with creativity.

The duo set to work, packing and shaping the snow into a round base. With each pat and roll, Sophia and her father bonded over shared laughter and the simple joy of creating something together. Soon, their snowman stood proudly, adorned with a carrot nose, button eyes, and a colorful scarf Harvey had prepared.

As the day unfolded, Sophia and Harvey engaged in a spirited snowball fight. Laughter echoed through the air as they dodged and giggled, leaving behind a trail of footprints in the freshly fallen snow. Harvey couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment, cherishing the special moments spent with his daughter.

The sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the snowy landscape. Sophia and her father, rosy-cheeked and filled with happiness, headed back to the cabin. They kicked off their snowy boots, shedding layers of winter gear.

After Harvey cooked both his wife and daughter dinner and sent his wife back to bed, he walked out of the bedroom with Sophia in tow. "Will mommy be okay?" Worry was etched in his daughter's voice. "Don't worry, mommy is getting better," Harvey reassured Sophia, and she nodded. Hand in hand, they headed back downstairs. Harvey's heart heaved. He never had this much time with his daughter, and now the day is about to end. The next time he knew, Sophia would be 17, going against every single thing Harvey said.

Wrapped in blankets, Sophia nestled against her father, their hearts warmed not only by the crackling fire but also by the precious memories created in the magical snowfluff of that winter day. "I love you so much, Soph," Harvey whispered against Sophia's soft hair. "I know, daddy. I love you much more too," Sophia replied, also whispering.

And so, in the quiet embrace of each other, the father-daughter duo drifted into a dreamland, where snowflakes continued to dance and their laughter echoed in the winter night, creating a timeless tale of love and joy.

MASTERLIST

[fatuismooches]

Dw hahahaha I'm still alive just dying over ( why did I chose to study a PHD 😭 ) But im on a break from school so except so a lot more brainrot from me lmao, also sorry if this is jumbly kinda just put my words out there hahaha

I know we always talk about fragile reader during the illness but what about after? Fragile reader was plauged with this illness for hundreds of years so they deffinently adapted. Like typically when walking then would shuffle their feet a lot cause it took less energy so sometime they shuffle their feet and don't even realize. They didnt have the ability to do tasks such a pouring liquids into cups so whenever they're about to pour themselves a glass of water then to do collect themselves because what if their illness comes back? What if there dreaming and they'll suddenly drop everything. All of Zandik's work is reverted. So often times segments will just find reader staring intensely at a simple task. And of course they'll go comfort reader. Whilst they wish they could do it they know how much reader wants their autonomy back after such a restrictive few centuries.

But let not ignore the segments and Prime cause they've picked up a few habits also. They've gotten used to treating reader as fragile as glass so whenever they fall or trip post illness they freak out. It would require some comfort from reader to bring them back to earth and remember that reader is no longer ill. But you KNOW that they're pulling out every healing treatment they've got. They're all evil and sadistic doctors but for you they'll be good. <4

But regarding Zandik himself... Well he was so excited to finally have cured his lover that he completely forgot about the effects you'd suffer after. So when a few segments report of you not being completely free of your curse he's immediately trying to figure out how he can help you. He decides that the best thing to do is to be there for you. It typically is unusual to see the Doctor away from his work but now it's the norm for Il Doctors to be with his lover.

- Jellofish Anon

After being sick for so long, one would think you'd be ecstatic to finally be cured, to be free of the illness that plagued your body and life so much. And well, they were right, but the happiness still came with its anxieties. Change was never an easy thing, even when it was the good type. After dealing with this for so many years, you were bound to still be nervous about doing certain things. To not have the confidence in yourself to carry out the task. You worry that you'll mess up or fail and waste your time trying to do so and just end up making more of a problem for yourself and others. Even though you know that's illogical now, it's hard to get out of a mindset you've been stuck with for so long. Of course, your inner conflict doesn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and each segment would provide their own kind of comfort based on who they are, whether gruffly or soothingly, to give you the courage to take back your life.

You can't exactly blame Dottore and the segments for being overbearing, after all, they've witnessed your weak state for numerous centuries, and they've seen you hit your lowest many times too. They can't help but worry about their darling too. It's endearing at first but you have to hold them and help them realize that was the past you, the new you is someone different thanks to them. You can be strong and safe and independent without them now, even if it sort of makes them crazy knowing the situations you put yourself in now. Still, they observe you very much even when you least expect it.

Of course, the cure is not without its drawbacks - you still have to deal with the lingering effects of your illness sometimes. Which definitely aren't as bad as before, but they still serve to remind you of your old life. But you know that regardless of what the future may bring, you'll always have Dottore by your side to ease whatever pains you have.

(Dottore post-illness would be such a cutie. It's such a rewarding feeling, to see the one he loves no longer burdened and free to pursue what they want just like he does. He would sit and listen to all the stories you have for him each day, all the exciting things you can do now, the days of pain in the past. Of course, the segments would be extremely excited to finally have a worthy assistant - you - but there's only one of you after all. Unfortunately, they have to share, and bear the painful curse of having you to themselves once nearly every two weeks.)

(I've been planning to make this a full fic for like a year...)

[justmeinadaze]

I Miss The Misery (Steve X You)

"Just know that I'll make you hurt

(I miss the lies and the pain what you did to me)

When you tell me you'll make it worse

(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)

I hate that feeling inside

You tell me how hard you'll try

But when we're at our worst

I miss the misery."

A/N: From my previous post, I mentioned I've been feeling some type of way and every time I hear this song I think of mean Steve every time.

Warnings: Mean, Toxic Steve X Fem Slightly Toxic Y/N, SMUT of the rougher variety, public sex (bathroom, office), daddy kink (cause im me), smacking, choking, degrading (brat, whore), ANGST, some gas lighting from Stevie, he's definitely not a good guy, cheating (mentions of him cheating on her; reader cheats on bf), she talks about how his behavior excites her sexually but she's aware of how toxic that kind of thinking is. I think that's all.

Kind of inspired by an ex I had and the way he treated me. He bounced off of each other negatively and I remember telling my therapist that I thought the reason I kept going back to him was because "at least I feel something." I haven't seen him in 4 years so Yay for healthy relationships! :)

Doesn't mean we cant enjoy some toxic smut with Steve Harrington.

Word Count: 6317

“Hey, honey. Rough day?”, you coo at your boyfriend as he comes through the front door with a heavy elongated sigh. 

“Yeah. These assholes that bought our company are changing everything and it’s starting to piss me off.”, he grumbles while taking a seat at the dinner table as you crawl into his lap and kiss his temple. 

“You should say something. Tell your boss you’re sick of the changes and the disrespect. They need you and your team, baby.”

“Naw.”, he gently smiles as he hugs you tighter. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

Smothering your own frustrated sigh, you grin as you kiss his lips before heading back to the kitchen to finish the meal you were making. You never understood your boyfriend’s passive aggression when it came to most things. Any time anything bothered him, he’d vent and stomp his feet but in the end, he did nothing. 

You had never dated a man like him before. Most of your past boyfriends were toxic to say the least but what they didn’t know was you were always trying to recreate a feeling someone from your past gave you. The feeling of being desperately needed to the point that they would break down a door to be with you. That passion that followed jealously or a fight that they most likely started but you definitely instigated. That feeling of being…alive. When you couldn’t find it in anyone else, you decided it was best to move on to something healthier. 

Jacob was a good person who doted on you hand and foot. If you had a bad day, he would hold you and if you just needed someone to talk to he was more than accommodating. When you two fought, if you could call it that, you could scream and be mean and all he would do is sigh and say things like “I understand why you would feel that way. I’ll try and be better.” When you two were intimate, he was incredibly vanilla, only ever being sexual in bed and usually missionary. The few times you tried to explain what you wanted, he never seemed to understand. 

“You want me to hurt you??”

“No…not exactly. I just want you to be…rougher. SHOW me how much you love me. MAKE me feel it.”

“You don’t think I show you enough how much I care about you?”

“No! I mean yes…I mean…Gah! Never mind.”

 “What’s, uh, what’s the name of the company that bought yours again?”, you ask as you grab a beer bottle from the fridge and pop it open. 

“Actually, babe, I was going to tell you. I did some research on them and it seems they originated in your hometown Hawkins. It’s a company called Harrington & Co.” The sound of glass shattering causes Jacob to jump up and immediately run to the kitchen where he finds you wide eyed with beer now swimming around your feet. “Oh my god. Are you okay?! Don’t move, you don’t have shoes. Let me clean this for you.”

“Harrington? Like Bill Harrington?”

“Yeah! I was going to ask if you knew them.”, he continues as he kneels down and begins to clean broken glass before wiping at the liquid. “Supposedly, from what I read, Bill Harrington retired and left it to his son Steven. Did you know him? He’s about your age.”

“Where the fuck have you been?!”

“What do you care, sire?! I’m not your fucking girlfriend remember?”

“That doesn’t stop you from coming to my house at fucking 2 am begging to ride my dick!”

Your hand flew across his face, his angry eyes glaring into yours when his head reels back. As you swing your arm to hit him again, his large palm catches your wrist and roughly pulls you to his chest.

“Let me go.”, you growl.

Leaning forward, his lips hover just above your own, feeling the slight wind of your heavy exhales that come from your nose.

“Make me.”

“No, I didn’t know him.”

#############

Sighing, you take shaky, anxious steps towards your boyfriend’s office building. When Jacob called saying he forgot his lunch, you debated on telling him you were busy with work stuff of your own before finally deciding to bring him his food. 

He owns the building. It’s not like he’s going to actually be in it 24/7. Plus, if he was he would definitely be on a different floor.

“Hey sweetie. Oh! Thank you so much.”, he grins as he kisses your cheek. “Do you want to sit with me while I eat? We can share or I can buy you something.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m not hungry but I can sit with you.”

Holding your hand, he walked with you to the building cafeteria and like any good girlfriend, you sat next to him listening to him tell you about the long trials and tribulations of his day. You smiled, nodding where you were supposed to and frowning at things he seemed annoyed with. After thirty minutes of his hour lunch, you desperately needed a break. 

“I’m going to go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Jacob smiled as you tilted down to kiss him before turning to head towards the area with drinks and food. As you stood there staring into the void of soda options, a strong cologne smell hit your nose that had you dizzy as your eyes fluttered closed. You’d know that smell anywhere, inhaling it so many times in the past. 

Steve smiles as he watches you walk around his room in one of his polos that hangs down your body like a nightgown, just barely covering the love bites and bruises from his fingers that were starting to form on your thighs. Lifting an expensive looking glass bottle to your nose, you grin to yourself as you inhale and put it back down. 

“I love the way that stuff smells.”

“Yeah. My dad says it’s a good smell for ‘classy men’.”, he chuckles.

“Hm. I guess he doesn’t know you very well.”

“Fuck you. I’m classy.”, Steve teases as his grin grows, yanking your arm so you fall on top of him as he folds his hands together behind your lower back. “Classy enough to land a pretty girl like you.”

“Y/N?” 

As you turn your head, your eyes lock with his slightly stunned honey-colored irises as they scan you up and down. You begin to feel slightly self-conscious in your leggings and regular t-shirt compared to his slick black suit and well styled hair.

“Holy shit. What…What are you doing here? Do you work here?”, Steve asks.

“Uh, no. My, uh, my boyfriend actually does.” You turn and point to where he was nonchalantly eating, not even looking in your direction. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad followed through and gave me his company. We finally expanded out of Hawkins so I bought this place.”

“Yeah, I heard. Congratulations.” His eyes continue to rake over you making you more and more anxious the longer you stood there. “Well, I better get back before his hour ends.”

A shiver ran up your spine as his hand reached out to grab your arm. 

“Wait. I’d like to talk to you some more and catch up. Do you want to meet me for dinner? I’m free tonight if you are.”

“Steve… I’m with someone. I can’t have dinner or anything else with an ex or whatever the fuck we were. I’m happy now.”

The smirk that painted his beautiful lips startled you as you stood up straighter.

“Oh your happy, huh? You should tell that to your face. That guy’s your boyfriend? Guy barely seems like he can get it up let alone satisfy a woman like you.”

“Define woman like me?”, you inquire sarcastically. 

“A strong, gorgeous woman who liked to be fucked hard and put in her place.” Steve’s eyes remain on you as your own widen as you look around hoping now one was close enough to hear his not-so-subtle tone. “Tell me, honey, does he know you called me Daddy? I imagine not because if you were my girl and I found out you ever called someone else that you wouldn’t be able to sit down for weeks.”

“Thank God, I’m not your fucking girl.”, you snarled. “You were never man enough to make that commitment.”

As you both stared daggers into each other’s eyes a sudden hand on your shoulder brings you back. 

“Baby, everything ok?”, your boyfriend asks way too calmly. 

“Yeah, Jacob, I’m fine. I was just introducing myself to the owner of your company.”

Steve’s eyes immediately softened as you watched him play the role he always played extremely well; charming and popular.

“Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you, Jacob. Y/N and I go way back.”

“Oh. I thought you said you didn’t know him, sweetie.”

Your ex’s eyes narrow in your direction in faux shock making you sigh in annoyance. 

“I didn’t know him. I knew OF him. Everyone knew who Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was. Unfortunately, I wasn’t popular enough to penetrate his circle.”

“Hm, but I was to penetrate yours.”, he sassed with an arrogant confidence that just made you angry. 

“Nice seeing you again, Harrington. Come on, baby.”

Steve watches you both walk away with a determined gaze that you can feel burning into your back as you headed towards your table.

“He seems nice. What was he like in school? Do you remember?”

“You didn’t call me like you said you would.”

“I was busy, Y/N.”, he answers nonchalantly, not even meeting your eyes as he continues putting things in his locker. “I figured when you didn’t hear from me, you’d just fuck the next guy.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, seriously?! Steve, for some fucking reason I like you. I only want to be with you but it kills me when you don’t follow through with your promises. You say you’ll call and you don’t. You say we’ll go on an official date finally and then last minute you change plans but still call me to come over late at night so you can fuck me. It’s push and pull with you. You act like you want me but then you don’t. I can’t… I can’t keep waiting for you.”

Slamming his locker closed, he finally turns to face you with a look that said he really didn’t care. 

“Then don’t.”

“Yeah…I remember him. Steve Harrington was a complete asshole.”

##############

You managed to steer clear of Steve and anything having to do with him for a few months after your encounter with him until you couldn’t anymore.

“Baby, it’s an office party. Come on, we have to go.”

“Then go, Jacob, but I’d rather just stay here.”

“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend and this is important to me. Everyone I know will be there including clients. I want them to meet the woman I love.”

You can’t help but sigh at his statement from your place in the closet. You cared about your boyfriend, you genuinely did but love? That was big word with a big meaning. 

“FUCK YOU!”, you shout as you run out into the hallway and yank your arm away from Steve as he tries to stop you while buckling up his pants. “I’m so stupid. DON’T fucking touch me.”

Growling, he pushed you into another empty room and closed the door behind him as he continued to put his clothes back on. 

“Lower your fucking voice—”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want the entire party to know what an asshole you really are!” His hand tries to block your mouth but you angrily swat him away causing him to back up and hold his hands up defensively. “You TOLD ME that we could make this serious. That we would finally have a REAL relationship and then I find you here fucking Lori! Are you kidding me?”

“Y/N, I—”

“I told you I loved you, Steve. I’ve never said that to anyone!” Tears started to fall down your face as you hugged your arms around your body. “You’re never going to claim me, are you? You’re never going to call me your girlfriend. I was just another fuck buddy, wasn’t I?”

When he doesn’t respond, you shove his chest hard. 

“ANSWER ME!”

“YES! YES, OKAY?! Excuse me for not wanting to fucking hurt you. You knew what this was, honey. Its…It’s not my fault…you caught feelings.”

That night you ran. You told your parents you loved them, packed a small bag, and left Hawkins to Indianapolis swearing to yourself that this would never happen again. Ever since that night, you had been so numb to most emotions but especially ones that included romance. 

“Ok. Let me get ready and I’ll meet you downstairs. 

***

If you ran into Steve Harrington again, this time you would be ready. Wearing your shortest black dress and highest black heels, you strutted into Jacob’s office party with a demeanor that had everyone turning their heads. 

With a gigantic grin on his face, your boyfriend introduced you to people and showed you off the way you deserved. 

I should be enjoying this. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be normal!?

“Hey, baby, I’m going to run to the restroom.” 

After giving him a sweet kiss, you powerwalk to the girl’s bathroom and lean over the sink as you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

What’s wrong with me?

The door abruptly opens making you jump as you quickly pretend to be washing hands until a familiar aroma grabs your attention. 

“Steve! What the fuck are you doing?! This is the girl’s bathroom!”

“Pfft like that ever stopped me before.” His eyes hungrily drank you in as you did the same. In high school he always dressed well but it was rare you saw him in suits. Now you imagined he wore them all the time and they accentuated his body in a way that had your mouth watering. 

“I was watching you around the party with your boyfriend. You seem…sad.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Hm. Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”

“Fuck off, Harrington. Alright? I left you and Hawkins for a reason. Just give me some peace.”

“Yeah, you did leave. You didn’t even say goodbye.”, he replied with an undertone of anger you couldn’t quite fathom. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. When should I have done that? While you were fucking the school slut or after you told me you didn’t love me.”

“I didn’t say that. I never said I didn’t love you.”

“PLEASE! You said I should have known what our relationship was and it wasn’t your fault I caught feelings for you! What was I supposed to take from that?!”

“Do you think my dad would have let us be together?! A rich Harrington with a poor Y/L/N? This isn’t a fairy tale, Y/N!”

“Of course! Steve Harrington, always looking out for himself!”

“What did you want me to do?!”

“I WANTED YOU TO FIGHT FOR ME!”

The bathroom door swings open again and you quickly grab his arm, shoving him into an empty stall as a group of girls gather at the sinks. As you listen to them talk, your head hangs as your brain swims in memories of the past. 

You never cared that he was a Harrington or that he had a ton of money attached to his name. Even though you two had a lot of bad moments, to you, the good always outweighed them. Steve always knew how to make you laugh and smile (when he showed up). He would come over on Friday nights with a movie and some food (because he didn’t want to risk you both being seen). At night when he would sneak through your window (at 1am), you would lay on his chest and talk about everything you both could think of (after he fucked you like a whore). 

Fingers gently lifted your chin, tilting your head so your eyes could meet his. As a tear fell down your cheek, he tenderly wiped it away with his thumb before cupping your face with his hands. You closed your eyes as his lips kissed your forehead, slowly trailing them down to your nose, and hovering just above your own.

Closing the distance, you pulled his mouth to yours as your palms slid down his back, trying to bring him closer to your body. 

You never forgot the taste of his kisses but you were grateful for the reminder. 

After forcing open your legs with his knee, your dress hiked up a bit allowing him easier access to your panty covered core as his hand effortlessly pressed the silky materiel against your clit. Biting your lip to stifle the moan, you felt him smile as his mouth latched on to your neck. Your eyes rolled as his tongue licked your skin and his fingers moved your underwear out of the way so he could guide two of them into your entrance.

Steve’s elbow locked in place as your knees started to buckle, holding you against the tile wall as you clung to his shoulders. It took every ounce of energy you had to remain quiet as his digits curled inside of you. The girls outside of the stall continued to gossip, completely unaware that the owner of their company was about to make their coworker’s girlfriend come undone.

Leaning back to look at you, the tip of his nose lightly grazed yours as your mouth fell open in a silent moan. Nodding his head, his beautiful eyes were begging you for something he needed you to say. Something he hadn’t heard since you left and you hadn’t said to anyone but him. 

“Please…Daddy.”, you mouthed and without hesitation he gripped the back of your neck, pulling your head to his shoulder as he pumped his fingers faster into your cunt.

The bathroom door banged shut as the women left and a loud moan you had been holding on to echoed through the room as you reached down to grip his wrist, trembling against him as you came. Yanking you back, he crashed his lips to yours as your tongues mingled together. 

“Please…please…”, you whimper as you push at his hand.

“It’s been a while, huh? Since you’ve had something big inside of you.”, he teased, grinning when your breathily laughed. “God, I missed you so much. I thought about you every day for the past five years. I love you, honey.” 

Something in your look gave him pause as he scanned your face. 

“What?” Pushing him backwards, you threw open the door to the stall while adjusting your dress and quickly checking yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked at least how you did when you came in here. “Hey, talk to me. What’s—”

As he reached for your arm, you turned around and smacked his cheek.

“How dare you. You think after everything you put me through you can just walk back into my life and expect things to be how they were?! I’m in a healthy relationship for once. He doesn’t bail on dates or disappear when I need him. Jacob actually shows me off and tells people I’m his girlfriend that he loves! I don’t cry every night because of something he said or did! I don’t—”

“Have sex the way you want?”, Steve interrupted snidely. “You don’t actually have any fucking fun because he’s so fucking boring you just want to walk into traffic. He doesn’t challenge you or make feel needed. He doesn’t know how fucking numb you really are. Jesus…”, he snickers. “You’re definitely not the same girl that left me.”

“That’s right because you broke her fucking heart!”

“Does he know that you don’t love him?” You freeze by the door at his question. “Does he know that you, honey, are exactly like me whether you like it or not. There’s a reason you’ve thought of me every day to. That’s the same reason you’re afraid to leave him.”

“Our relationship…was toxic…”

Tilting his head to the side, he reached into his suit pocket, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, and lighting one between his teeth. 

“That may be but that also doesn’t change the fact that you and I, baby girl, thrive on that shit.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head before addressing him and turning to leave.

“Stay away from me, Steven.”

#############

“Oof.”, Jacob groans as he slinks out of his suit jacket and throws himself down on the sofa. “It was a long day. We have a big account that landed in our lap and even your friend has been staying late to help.”

“He’s not my friend.”, you mumble as you continue focusing on the sink in front of you. 

You hadn’t been able to shake Steve from your brain since the party. Hell, you hadn’t been able to shake him for the last 5 years. You thought about him constantly but knew he was bad for you. Part of what got you through the heartache was telling yourself that he wasn’t missing you; that he didn’t care at all where you were or if you were even happy. 

But here he was telling you the opposite. Was he lying or did he genuinely care? From the few interactions you had with him he still seemed exactly the same. God, why couldn’t you get the warm fuzzy feelings he gave you with someone healthy?! Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why did he rile you up and get you going but by doing the worst things. 

“Honey? Are you alright? You seem kind of—”

“I’m fine, Jacob. I’m just exhausted.”

His hand gently caressed your back as his chin rested on your shoulder. “I understand. Is there anything I can do?”

Angrily, you slammed the plate in your hand back into sink, lightly pushing him aside as you entered the living room and began to pace. 

“Baby, what’s going on?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“STOP BEING SO FUCKING NICE TO ME!”, you shout as frustrated tears began to fall. “Why do you alwayshave to be so nice?”

“How else should I be, Y/N?”

“I don’t know! Fucking…tell me to stop being a bitch or raise your voice a little bit. Throw me against a wall and fuck me into submission.” 

“Y/N, I still don’t get it. You’re telling me you want me to hurt you?”

“NO! I just want you to stop being so fucking passive! Show a bit more passion! How can you live life like this!? If you’re angry just be fucking angry and then do something about it!”

Placing his hands on his hips, his eyes glance over you as if confused on how to proceed. 

“You know what? Um, fuck it. I’m sorry, honey. I just…I had a weird day and I’m taking it out on you.” Wiping your eyes, you hastily grab your jacket from the nearby closet, and sling it over your shoulders. “I’m just going to go for a drive.”

“Y/N, wait! It’s pouring!”

Shutting the door, you cut him off as you stand in the yard and let the rainwater hit your face. It had been so long since you felt amped up like this. Backing out of your driveway, you head to the one person you know will understand.

***

“Yeah? What? I’m busy.”

“Uh Mr. Harrington, there’s a young lady here that says she knows you and was wondering if she could come up to talk to you.”

“I see. Carl? Does the young lady have a name or are we just letting any random women into the building?”,Steve asked the security guard sarcastically through intercom that connected to the top two floors. 

“Um, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Ok, send her up.”, he sighs almost as if he’s annoyed by your presence. 

You bounce anxiously in the elevator as you take the ride up to the top floor and as soon as the doors ding open, you power walk towards the lighted up office at the end of hall.

“Y/N.”, Steve exhales without looking in your direction. “I’m extremely busy so if this isn’t important then make it quick.” When his eyes finally land on your soaked, agitated frame, his whole demeanor shifted as he came around his desk and cupped your face in his hands. “Jesus Christ, honey. What the fuck is going on? Are you alright?”

Tilting up on your toes, you hungerly press your lips against his.

“Baby…Baby…hang on…Stop!”, he shouts sternly as he pulls you back. “Tell me what happened right now.”

“You said you missed me and that you loved me.”, you pant as you try to tug out of his grip. “I didn’t. I didn’t miss you at all. The only thing I ever loved about you was your dick, Harrington.”

His eyes narrowed as his head tilted trying to get a read on you. 

“Why are you lying, little girl? You’re not supposed to lie to me remember?”

“Said the liar. I bet you didn’t miss me either with all that pussy you were getting back at Hawkins.”

“I can get pussy and still miss yours. The only difference is I actually enjoyed fucking those gorgeous women. When’s the last time you were fucked properly?”

“Jacob can get the job done. Trust me.”, you sass. 

“Then tell me, baby, why are you here with me?”

“Because I’m an idiot! Maybe, I should go home.”

As you turned to leave, he roughly grabbed your arm, spun you around, and kissed you again. It was a rough kiss loaded with need as you both clung to each other, you a bit more desperately than him. 

“Where’s my girl? I want my Y/N.”, he snarled angrily as he pulled your hair back, tilting your face up to meet his. 

“I told you. She’s gone.”

“I don’t believe you.” Pushing you down onto your knees, he continues to hold you firmly as he unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants with one hand. “I think she’s still there. She’s just hidden behind this false facade of someone ‘normal’.” As his slacks fall to his ankles, his cock springs free, and you salivate at the sight as he pumps it slowly in front of your face. “But we aren’t normal, are we, baby?”

As you try to lean forward to take him into your mouth, Steve pulls on your hair harder forcing you back while leaning down till his face was just inches above your own. 

“Ah, see? There she is. Hidden right under there.” His tone is full of snark but his beautiful features remain stoic as he continues to glare down at you. “Come on, honey. Give me what you got.”

Rearing back, a glob of spit leaves your mouth and lands just above his nose.

“Fuck you, Steve Harrington. I hate you.”

Wiping his hand over his face, he collects your saliva and strokes it along his cock.

“Jesus, baby, your anger and attitude just really fucking get me off.” Lifting you off your knees, he pushes you onto his desk, tearing off your jacket and shirt before slamming your back against the wood as your head hangs over the other side. 

You try to get up but he’s faster, holding his palm against your chest as he comes around his desk. 

“You remember our word right, Y/N? I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot it. I imagine you haven’t needed it with the extremely mundane almost tedious style sex you’ve been having over the years.”, he chuckles, laughing at his own snark as you pout angrily beneath him. “DO you remember?”

“Yes I fucking remember!”

The palm on your chest slides easily up your skin and takes hold of your throat.

“Yes, you remember what?”

“I remember our safe word.”

Rolling his eyes, he lets you go just long enough to slap your cheek hard before holding you down again. 

“Yes, WHAT?!”

“YES, DADDY, I REMEMBER OUR FUCKING WORD!”

Steve’s hand moves behind your head, holding you up slightly as his leaking tip touches your lips, exhaling heavily when your tongue darts out to lick his slit and you moan at the taste of him. Opening your mouth wider, you allow him to push his cock in till he promptly hits the back of your throat making you gag. 

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.”

Thrusting his hips, you flatten your tongue allowing him to use you as he pleases. Abruptly, the phone blares on his desk startling you but annoying him as he angrily grunts at the device. 

“God fucking damn it. Can’t have one fucking moment. Don’t move.”, he growls as he leans over to pick up the receiver. “Yeah, this is Harrington.” His long fingers grip your hair tighter as his cock subtly slides between your lips unable to remain still as your wet, slobber filled mouth warms him. 

“Seriously? This is why you called at 10pm? We have it covered. I have faith in the employees here.”

Even though his voice remained relatively calm despite what was happening, you knew him well enough to know he was using all his energy to do so. Deciding to rile him further, your hand reached up above you and gently massaged his balls the way you knew drove him crazy back in school. 

“Look, stop panicking. I-I-I…” You smiled in triumph as Steve stuttered over his words. “Fuck. No not you. Clark, just…just tell my dad to calm the fuck down. I haven’t run his company into the ground yet and I don’t…don’t plan on doing it any time soon.”

Slamming the phone back on the hook, he grips the side of your head with both hands as he thrusts his hips at a faster pace. 

“Did you think that was funny, little girl?! Did you think it was funny watching me squirm?” Holding you still, he stops moving when he feels your nose against his sack, grunting as your throat constricts around him. “That’s it, you fucking brat. Choke on it.”

Pulling himself all the way out, he allows you to collect air and watches with pride as the tears streak down your face. Once he feels like you’ve had enough of a break, he shoves his cock back down your throat, holding you still as you gag and drool around him. 

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he tugs you off him and walks around to the other side of the desk while shuffling off his pants as he unbuttons his shirt. 

“Come here, baby.”

As you fully sit up, you raise your hips so he can aggressively yank down your pants with your panties. Bringing you towards the edge of his desk, he falls to his knees, and puts your cunt on display for himself as he uses his fingers to hold open your puffy lips. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. I missed this pussy so much. You always smelled so fucking good.” You moan as Steve’s nose grazes your clit and his tongue licks between your folds. “Shit. And you tasted so fucking delicious to.”

His head falls between your legs and your fingers tangle in hair as he devours you like you were his last meal. The obscene sounds of slurps and his tongue flicking in and out of your core has you clenching tightly around him as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Please, don’t stop, Steve. Oh my god.”, you whine. 

As your hips start to buck against him, his strong hands hold you down forcing you to stay still. You continue petting his head, occasionally tugging on his fluffy, soft strands making his groan reverberate through you. 

The phone beside you blares loudly again and he grunts in agitation as he gets to his feet, grabbing the cord to yank it from the wall. 

Taking his place between your legs, you both moan as he runs his mushroom tip along you slit and rests his forehead on yours.

“Beg me, Y/N. Tell me how bad you want my cock that you love oh so much and not me.”

“Please, Steve, I need—”

His palm around your throat cuts you off.

“No, little girl. Remember? You don’t care about me anymore. You don’t give a fuck about Steve Harrington. All you want is my dick right? Well, honey, this dick belongs to Daddy so beg him.”, he growled causing your breath to hitch. 

“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry. I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you fill me up.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“No.”, you whisper, your answer intriguing him as his head shifts to the side. “But I need it.”

Your hands run up his chest till you reach his neck, clinging to him as he slowly guides himself inside of you. You mouth dropped open in the shape of an O as he gradually pumps his hips, pushing himself deeper into your heat. 

“God damnit, Y/N, how long has it been? Your pussy isn’t used to a big cock anymore is she? You’re so fucking tight.”

“Still s-so cocky.”

Steve chuckles lightly, his head hanging as he bottoms out. 

“Still a fucking brat.”

Gripping both your thighs, he pulls back before thrusting his length hard inside of you, practically punching the air from your lungs. Falling flat onto his desk, he finds a steady pace that leaves the two of you panting and moaning.

Leaning his upper body over yours, his lips kiss yours sloppily as your tongues dance together.

“Fuck, baby girl, no one has ever taken my cock as well as you.” His face falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he bites at the flesh. “This pussy was made for me, Y/N.”

“Harder, Daddy.”

Taking hold of you, he lifts you off his desk and places you on the floor, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder as he pounds into you.

“Like that, honey? Yeah. Daddy knows. Daddy can take care of you.” With one hand clinging to your leg for leverage, he utilizes his other to bring his thumb to your clit making you whimper as his cock abuses your g-spot. “Cum, pretty girl. Cum all over my dick.”

Perching yourself up on your elbows, your eyes lock with his giving him more determination to push you over that ledge. When you do finally fall, he grunts at the feeling, fucking you through it as his thumb moves faster against you. 

“Atta girl. Fuck me. Your pussy won’t stop pulling me in. You really needed Daddy, huh, baby?”

Shakily your hand grabbed his wrist, silently begging him to stop and to your surprise he did, bringing his palm up to caress your cheek. Focusing on his own pleasure, he slammed into you so hard that you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 

Falling flat against your body, he rolled his hips a few more times before warming your insides with his release. 

The two of you laid together quietly for a few moments until he finally rolled on to his back. Sneaking a glance your way, Steve noticed you were trembling and sat up to grab his jacket off the floor where he had tossed it to place it over your body like a blanket. 

“Thank you.”, you murmur as you bring it up closer to your neck. 

“For the jacket or the sex?” As you turn your head to look at him, he does the same. “That’s what you came here for right? Because I know it wasn’t for me. I guaran-God damn-tee if your boyfriend or any other guy fucked you the way I did, you’d be with them right now.”

“You’re right.” Steve huffed as he fully sat up and leaned against the sofa he had in his office. “What do you want me say, Harrington? I tried for two years to get you to claim me and every time you pushed me away.”

“And every time you still came back.”

“So that gave you license to treat me like garbage?!”

“No! I’m just… I’m just saying there’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah and not a good one. Steve…what we have…had… yeah the sex is amazing but everything else is unhealthy. The missed dates, angry calls, the fighting, the fucking cheating… we are toxic.”

He sighs heavily before giving you his full attention.

“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.” Shaking your head, you get to your feet as you quickly grab your clothes and start to put them on. “I know you feel the same, Y/N, or else you wouldn’t be here. You like all that bullshit because at least you’re feeling something other than fucking boredom. Trust me, I tried to. I tried doing the healthy ‘normal’ thing. I wanted to fucking gouge my eyes out by the end of the day. It took me awhile to realize that all the women I was with including her… I just kept wishing they were you.”

“This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, no, no, honey. Please, trust me. I feel like we can make this work.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Backing away from you, he folded his arms as he leaned against his desk. You knew this look very well, always referring to it as “the shutdown”. His wall was going up which means he was going to make this situation as complicated as possible.

The butterflies in your tummy fluttered in anticipation at the notion.

Why am I like this? Why can’t I be normal?

“Ok, Y/N. We can play this game but just remember, little girl, I’m way better at it than you.”

############

@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- A New Baby Pt1

I never thought I'd get married and have kids. I just didn't think that I would ever find a man I'd consider having that kind of life with, but when Kelly Severide stepped into my life everything change. We didn't meet in the best of way. He's a fireman and I'm a police dog handler. There had been a bombing and they asked me to send my search and rescue dogs in. I fell for the guy there and then.

5 years on and we are married and have a beautiful daughter who's just turned 3 named Harper.

Today I woke up feeling off. Headache and nausea on and off. I have today off from work which is fantastic, but also my daughter is here and as much as I love her she can be an absolute nightmare

"Harper can you pick your toys up please"

"No thank you mommy" at least she's using her manners right?

"Harper. Daddy won't be happy when he comes home"

"Daddy loves me so he won't shout" Harper shrugs and she's right. She's a daddy's girl and she has him wrapped round her little finger. I'm always the bad guy and that's fine this is our dynamic, but sometimes it would be good to get a little help off him

"Right come on pick the toys up before someone hurts themselves"

"But I'm playing with them mommy"

"Harper I'm not feeling very well so please pick up your toys. I'll help, but your not getting anything else out until these toys are put away"

"Fine" Harper shouts and I rub my head as a headache begins again.

Once all the toys have been picked up I sit down on the couch and close my eyes for a moment

"Mommy?"

"Yes princess?" I open one eye to look at her

"When's dinner?"

"When daddy gets home"

"When's that?"

"Soon" I reply "I'm going to take a nap. You know the rules"

"Don't unlock the door and daddy has a key to get in. Can I play upstairs?"

"Yes, but don't run"

Before I know it I'm being woken up by Kelly's voice and touch. I open my eyes and see Kelly smiling at me

"When did you get home?" I yawn

"Just. How long have you been asleep?"

"Not long" I reply glancing at the clock "how was work today?"

"The usual, how was Harper?"

"Giving me hell"

"You made any supper?"

"No not yet" I shake my head

"I'll order us some food instead. What do you fancy?"

"To be honest Kel, I don't feel to good. Think I might be coming down with something. Just order yourself and Harper something"

"You need to eat. Even if it's just some rice or something"

"Ok" I give in to Kelly. 

Once our food has arrived we all sat down together. I take small bites of food and small sips of water

"So Harper. Have you been a good girl for mommy today?" Kelly asks. Harper lowers her head a little

"I wasn't naughty and mommy has been lazy today"

"Mommy said she isn't feeling very well so you need to be a big girl and help her"

"But..."

"No buts. Now eat your food and then it's bath then bed time"

"Fine" Harper pouts and takes her time eating her tea trying to make her bedtime later.

Once the Harper is in bed me and Kelly curl up on the sofa together watching TV. I swallow feeling more and more nauseous until I can't keep it down any more and the urge to throw up over comes me. I jump off the couch and run to the downstairs bathroom, Kelly following behind me.

Once I finish throwing up Kel and I head upstairs to bed

"You feeling any better?" Kelly asks as I change into one of his shirts

"Yeah. The nauseas gone now. Im just super tired. I've had a headache all day so its probably that that's made me sick"

"Maybe your pregnant" Kelly says. I roll my eyes at him

"I'm not pregnant"

"Are you sure because we're not very carful" Kelly states and to be fair he's got a point "you've been tired all week. We said if you were to get pregnant we'd be happy"

"Of course I would be, but had my period 2 weeks ago"

"Could be 2 weeks pregnant"

"Kel I'm not pregnant" I sigh getting into bed

"This is exactly what you were like with Harper"

"If it makes you feel any better I'll take a test tomorrow"

"Ok" Kelly kisses the top of my head and then wraps his arm around my waist and we both fall asleep.

[harrys-lilfreak]

i 🫶🏻 selena gomez so i thought i would make a fake ig thing with her as face claim 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 5,018,169 others

harrystyles golden hour

View all 71,007 other comments.

harryfan2 so golden really was written about her ☹️

ynfan8 why is she the prettiest person on the planet

annetwist my pretty girl 😍

yourinstagram @annetwist annie i love you

ynfan5 how does one look like that on a tuesday evening

harryfan3 i get it harry 😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynandharry they make each other so happy 🥺

yourinstagram when did you take this

harrystyles @yourinsagram What do you mean by this exactly?

yourinstagram it looks like i posed for this but i have no memory of doing that

ynfan6 she’s so real for this LMFAO

❤️ liked by harrystyles and 7,201,206 others

yourinstagram my favorite person on the planet 🥰

View all 33,559 other comments.

harrystyles I literally exist.

yourinstagram @harrystyles your point exactly?!

harrystyles @yourinstagram jk you both are my favorite.😘

ynfan9 we all love gracie

ynfan2 awww gracie

harryfan4 her relationship with gracie>>> harry

yourinstagram @harryfan4 PLZZZ 😭😭

yourmom my babies 😍

yourothersister @yourmom mom….

yourinstagram @yoursister HAHAH loser

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 5,206,440 others

harrystyles Thinking about how amazing this year has been, thank you for letting me do what I love. 🤟

View all 43,715 other comments.

annetwist Very proud of my baby

harrystyles @gemmastyles Im the favorite

gemmastyles @harrystyles shove it

yourinstagram the most deserving ever

harryandyn @yourinstagram being nice to harry for once 🤨🤨

(liked by harrystyles)

mitchrowland there’s no one like you.

harrystyles @mitchrowland Couldn’t have done it without you, mate.

yourinstagram @harrystyles what am i then, chopped liver ?

harryfan3 ooo! harry’s in troubleee

❤️ liked by harrystyles and 7,265,577 others

yourinstagram harrys playing me some songs he’s working on 🥹

View all 55,449 other comments.

harryfan3 leak them plz 🙇‍♀️

harryfan7 we’re still waiting for all the other unreleased to be released 🙄

annetwist Very proud of my baby

harrystyles @gemmastyles Im the favorite.

gemmastyles @harrystyles very bold coming from someone who doesn’t follow their mom back

harryfan5 @harrystyles i’m so sorry harry but she ate you up

ynfan4 the fit 👩‍🍳💋

harryfan5 he’s too fine for his own good

harryfan3 @yourinstagram do you know how to fight

yourinstagram @harryfan3 only if it’s for harry

harrystyles @yourinstagram That was so sweet, lovie 🥺❤️

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 7,340,439 others

harrystyles my girlfriend and my girlfriend’s girlfriends 😒

View all 97,945 other comments.

yourinstagram those are my girls

yourfriend aw little harry is jealous

harrystyles @yourfriend damn right i’m jealous took and didn’t get to see her half the night

yourotherfriend he’s mad cuz we took her for the night when he gets to see her all the time 🙃

harrystyles @yourotherfriend could’ve at least included me 😔

harryfan12 he 😭just 😭wanted 😭to 😭be 😭included, he’s so babygirl

ynfan7 i love that yn is hanging out with her friends again they’re so cute together

harrystyles I would just like to say that they also left me out of the picture they said “H can you take a picture of us?”

harryfan8 he’s been humbled

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 2,471,080 others

harry&ynupdates @yourinstagram via instagram stories “selfies h gets when he has to go work before i get to see him😔”

View all 15,853 other comments.

yourinstagram i promise he didn’t leave me on open he just replied after i screenshotted

harryfan4 they’re so cute

ynfan9 sleeping on the highway tonight

harryandyn3 i’m gonna be sick they’re adorable

harryfan1 harry’s getting sick of her that why he left her on read

harry&ynupdates @harryfan1 if you had half the functioning brain that any person has you would’ve read what yn said

harryfan6 @harryfan1 i fear you’ve been ate up

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 7,528,286 others

harrystyles Thank you for all the love on the album.

See you soon for another! ❤️

View all 134,229 other comments.

jeffazoff you did that buddy you should be proud!

harryfan3 you can’t tease emotionally unstable people harry 😐

yourinstagram you guys aren’t ready

ynfan7 @yourinstagram harry’s mysterious ways are rubbing off on you and not in a good way

annetwist You never fail to amaze me, son.

harrystyles @annetwist Thank you, mother. Since we’re being so posh.

harryfan2 ANOTHER? SOON?!

harryfan8 how soon are we talking ??

gemmastyles good work little big brother!!

mitchrowland we need you in the studio now if you’re done instagramming now🙄

harrystyles @mitchrowalnd don’t you have a kid to get to or something 🙄

❤️ liked by harrystyles and 2,471,080 others

yourinstagram i got a chop 💇‍♀️

View all 77,163 other comments.

harrystyles The beautifulest. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

yourinstagram @harrystyles aww you’re making up words for me 🫂

ynfan13 this hairstyle suits you so good 😩😩

harryfan5 now convince harry to do the exact opposite so he can grow his hair out 🙇‍♂️

gemmastyles honestly no body is doing it like you

yourinstagram @gemmastyles my sissy from another missy 🥺

ynfan3 your so pretty 😍

pillowperson YNNN YOURE THE CUTEST

yourinstagram @pillowperson thank you, my love 🫶🏻🫶🏻

harrystyles @pillowperson First my band and now my girlfriend, go away Sarah 🙃

❤️ liked by yourinstagram and 7,184,470 others

harrystyles Rare Beauty launch party, I’m so proud of you!

View all 58,016 other comments.

harryfan9 harry in his lover era

annetwist Wish I could’ve been there with! Sending my love. ❤️

yourinstagram @annetwist wish you were here too!! love and miss you! <333

harryfan2 wait yn plz do a full face of rare beauty on his face

yourinstagram @harryfan2 that’s genuinely such a good idea i’m gonna do it…

ynfan6 the prettiest person to ever exist

(like by harrystyles)

yourinstagram idk how you keep getting pictures of me without me knowing but it’s starting to scare me

harrystyles @yourinstagram i’m just your biggest fan what can i say 🤷‍♀️

ynfan3 @yourinstagram no bc why is she actually so funny i love her sm

——————————————————————————-

i’ve had this in the drafts for prob 2 months now and i finally finished it! hope you enjoy!!!

i have some exciting things coming i just don’t wanna put too much pressure and have them fall through.

[understandableparadox]

I think a fundamental problem with a lot of vampire media is that a vampire is not supposed to be a zombie. it is supposed to be a human who surrendered to their own vices and flaws. the flaws of cowardice in the face of death and the vices of pleasure and gluttony.

which is why vampires can be made very versatile. As much as I don't really like Twilight, it is still a story of dealing with vices with creatures that fundamentally have allowed themselves to be dominated by them.

which is why i really like the movie Renfield.

THATS RIGHT YOU BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO READ A SCATCHING BITCH AND MOAN SESSION ABOUT THE SATURATION OF SHITTY VAMPIRE MOVIES BUT NOW YOUR TRAPPED HERE READING MY THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON A NICK CAGE MOVIE, SIT DOWN SWEETHEART IM NOT GONNA BE DONE YAPPING FOR A FUCKING COUNTRY MINUTE

Renfield 2023 is a movie starring Nicholas Hoult, Nicolas Cage and Awkwafina.

Renfield if you do not know is the fanatical familiar from the original bram stokers dracula movie. the human who in exchange for aiding dracula in their dark dealings would perhaps gift him with the same dark curse, making renfield a fellow child of the night.

This movie takes place Years afterwards after a very serious battle with the last vampire hunters of the modern day and age. Dracula has suffered Severe damage from the fight and has Renfield aid him in taking refuge within the depths of an asylum while he recovers.

Here we get into the meat and potatoes of the movie, as much of a sin as it sounds, it does focus on nick cage as dracula but instead on nicholas holt as the aforementioned Stooge prime renfield. Renfield, between his random killings in order to sate the blood lust of his master, becomes more and more acquainted with the new modern world, undergoing the most harrowing journey of them all...

Therapy. 

Renfield over the years has lost his spark of mad fanaticism and is worried not only with his relationship with Dracula but his relationship with himself. Aiding at least one by attending an abusive partners support group to find victims. Mostly abusive partners and criminals.  

This is very notable because it's already setting up the original themes of vampires. Your cowardice and your vices. It sets up Renfield as a true coward whose vice is his love of dracula, or more exactly his desire to  Be Like dracula. Enough so that even though he wants to feel better about himself- to feel less like a monster- he still follows dracula's demands in killing people who he has decided to pass judgment on. 

Oh sorry i forgot a detail, renfield is a power ranger and his morpher is eating bugs. He gains some vampire powers everytime he eats a bug and does some john wick shit but thats not my deal, i dont care if renfield can do a sick back flip and punch a guy (complete fucking lie, the action scenes in this movie are so god damn rad sometimes, please watch this movie, please please please!!!)

The movie splits into a couple of different story lines. One being Renfield attempting to balance his burgeoning need to have a functioning moral compass and his romance with awkwafina character, rebecca the detective. Rebecca the detective attempting to balance both the rash of murder cases and a rash of mob related crimes in order to avenge her father, and the mob themselves attempting to figure out who is wiping out their foot soldiers. 

I'm not going to harp on the story for long so let's start talking about renfield. 

Renfield is a hypocrite, and it's made apparent throughout the film that he is a hypocrite. Despite wanting to be a good person he is still a murder. He has doomed multiple people to die across the world. He left his wife and child to be with dracula. He has done so much to cut himself off from his own humanity that it's almost insane that he wants to run back to it because Dracula has not yet answered renfields desire to be a true vampire. 

This all is blended into the idea of having dracula be a parallel to an abusive narcissistic partner in a relationship. Which in all accounts throughout the movie is true and we're going to bounce back and forth from that for a bit so buckle up bud. 

The main ire of the movie is that Renfield wants to push his problems that he has gained away onto Dracula without acknowledging his roles in them. Again we see that cowardice. Renfield cannot stand to see his own faults. He listens to Dracula both out of fear and admiration. At the start of the movie I mentioned that Dracula sustained heavy hits from the last vampire hunters. Well I forgot to mention how he survived. Lets go ahead and listen in Real Close to what he says 

The hunters had dracula dead to rights if you can dare to pardon my puns. Trapped in a binding circle, burning in holy flames and about to get skewered through his heart. The dialogue is specific, Dracula makes no specific promises but notes that Renfield is complicit and that regardless of whatever Dracula has done, he is still his greatest ally. We play on that cowardice and that vice. That desire to be near dracula or be like dracula contrasted with his fear of the repercussions of his actions. 

Snap back to reality and we see that Renfield is still struggling with this. He does not want to face the repercussions of his actions so he continues doing as instructed by Dracula while also indulging in his vices, his desire for escapism by delving into all of these new things. Vigilantism, pushing his problems onto dracula, pretending that he is at the moment capable of having a new life while still using dracula's powers to attain it. 

Ah but now we need to introduce the main concept of this film. That being the portrayal of Dracula as an abusive partner with narcissism. Dracula plays on renfields, and says it with me in class, Vices and Cowardice. He knows what to say to make Renfield back down. He knows all his fuck ups and exactly what renfield wants, that being to have a simple life with dracula, but not in a gay way of course, we still have to have a straight romance sub plot, i mean its insane to think that renfield wants to bone dracula its not like dracula promises to be his salvation while he is suspended in air in a soft whispery voice while renfield stares at him with all the gale of a oculerly enlarged puppy but hey what do i know? I unironiclly read isekais, my media literacy must be that of a brain dead lemur. 

We can see this played out in this scene here

Dracula knows how to keep the hook in renfield's mouth both taught and loose enough to keep him at the perfect level of knuckle dragging dejection to ensure that he runs back begging. In that while yes he is right that renfield at so many points gave in to his own desires and *coy eye to the audience as I listen to them scream “vices” at me.*. He has begun to make an earnest attempt to become a better person. Better late than never. 

Thus renfields true growth is him rejecting that which made him so close with dracula, the rejection of what makes a vampire and vampire. He embraces his cowardice by both admitting to what he is and now allowing himself to push his own crimes onto dracula, and then standing up to dracula, and then rejecting his vices when once again dracula makes him the same offer. To be that same shield towards himself and his own shortcomings rather than deal with a life without a master. Despite it being possible in the future coming with the promise of being a full vampire like himself. 

Look guys, let's not juggle bowling pins and call it arm wrestling, Watch Renfield. Its a good movie and nick cage is fucking awasome, thanks.

[kosmicdream]

answered some OTP questions from some post i found for Knife/Spoon, altho specifically Knife/Scissor.. more of a little writing exercise i guess

How did they meet?

Knife hunted him down for his space crimes. It was kind of an unusual target because Knife usually doesn’t go back to DMTIA, but Simon kicked up enough fuss to draw attention across the solar system, as well as claiming to be a McGold. Obviously, once they met Knife made arrangements to get Simon hired by thumb instead of imprisoned. 

How long have these two characters known each other?

Honestly its changed a couple times bc i’m bad at math, but im pretty sure its around 80 years. 

What were their first impressions of each other? How does that compare to their impressions of each other now?

Simon was excited to meet Knife and wanted to make a big impression because of his fame but was initially really disappointed with Knife and kind of threw a tantrum. Because he was already throwing one because Nail ruined his plans by fighting Knife first. Not having things go exactly his way with the encounter made him spiral and impulsively do things. He complained the entire flight back to the stars and Knife had to keep him restrained because he kept trying to fight or like crash the ship into an asteroid. Knife thought Simon was the kind of weird funny freak that would work well at Thumb and be a good asset to the team, plus he was so pathetic he kind of felt bad for him and squishing the worm friend he had. 

Their impressions now are kind of ?????.. How would i even summarize it.. Umm.. In a strange way I think Knife idolizes the aspect of Simon’s personality that seems unaffected by guilt, without really understanding that Simon is affected by guilt and is constantly propelled by his own panic. He just avoids accountability and has a facade he upholds. I would say Simon is still very good at adapting to unusual situations on the fly, despite how extreme they are, but his upbringing caused him to be accustomed to overstimulation. The reason why Knife idolizes this false perception of how Simon copes with his guilt is because I think he wants to be able to be a bit more like Simon and reach some kind of moral clarity, even if its not an appropriate or even “good” one. In some ways, i think he wants Simon to fix what’s wrong with him somehow. I would say this isn’t the attitude Knife had in the entire course of their relationship, at first he wanted to maintain a really different dynamic between them and ruled it with an iron grip - before things got too complicated. But at this stage in the story, Knife’s very emotionally lost and is using Simon as an anchor and thus putting him in a bit of a pedestal. He is actually physically sick though and does need help there, which Simon probably is the only person who can provide that care. 

Simon’s opinion of Knife is that he’s generally very frustrated with him because of how stubborn he is, which has always been difficult to obey the RULES because Knife’s rules have been contradictory. At this point he’s kind of on edge, because um. Knife came back to life suddenly, is also sick and also apparently is more malleable in his plans than ever before.. Which up until this point, has never really been his thing. It makes him a bit suspicious but he is curious what else has changed. He also is straight up terrified about it but he has to deal because this is possibly his last chance with making things right between them. 

How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

Knife isn’t gonna say anything fdkhfg Simon would just complain and insult Knife if asked. But that’s all fake you know he would go on rants about how perfect Knife is and the reason he’s still alive. 

Do they get along? Why or why not?

Do they????? The boys have a lot of relationship problems RN that have stacked up for decades but i’m still inclined to say yes. They at least are able to work as a team on the fly if the situation is tense enough (like anal prolapse.) 

Do they have any shared interests/hobbies? Do they ever do these hobbies together?

Murdering.. I guess.. JK they do dance as a couple which both enjoy. They also enjoy racing videogames but Simon almost always wins. 

How often do they see each other? Where do they usually meet?

I mean they used to live together, so they saw eachother every day. Even when they were living separately while Fork was growing up, They’d visit frequently or see eachother at work. It was usually Knife going to Simon’s place in the middle of the night though. 

How do they communicate with each other? Are there any recurring phrases or gestures unique to their relationship?

I feel like this is a complicated one to answer but I’d say that Knife allows and even gets pleasure from Simon hurting him, which he doesn’t really enjoy pleasure without that context. Alternatively, Simon doesn’t enjoy tenderness unless its from Knife. Even if he has a positive relationship with Cash, if she gets too into feelings it gives him the ick. So that’s usually only saved for serious moments, which usually have the mood deflated by a joke or something to balance out things from being too genuine. But with Knife he can be really tender and genuine without hating the experience. 

What is one quality they have in common?

Desperation?

What is one major difference between them?

Simon loves Knife but Knife does not love Knife, which causes a lot of problems. Knife Loves Simon but Simon doesn’t really know himself, so he thinks whatever Knife loves is whatever he is doing so he wants to keep doing that right so Knife loves him. 

Does one act as a narrative foil to the other? How so?

Oh probably. But if you ask me I’m not exactly sure what it is yet since there are so many foils and narratives in ffak lol

Do they have any affection for each other? How do they show it?

Knife climbs into Simon’s skin and Simon goes “squee!.” Also Simon does boring mundane life stuff with Knife to help him have that “normal life fantasy” that he craves so much. 

Do they have any disdain/contempt for each other? How do they show it?

Oh sure they do. Knife feels betrayal for the cheating, but Simon feels betrayal for Fork replacing him and you know Knife faking his own death. Knife shows it by avoiding all his loved ones for years i guess. Simon doubles down on bad behavior to upset Knife worse but that only makes everyone more miserable.

Do they share the same goals in life?

They used to have the same killing everyone goal yeah, but not anymore. At least for Simon, he’s got new ones.

Do they trust each other? Why or why not?

IDK .. they both navigate “trust” in a really toxic codependent twisted way, but at least in their minds they “completely” trust eachother - but that also kind of includes the aspects of the other they trust is very unpredictable and unclear. Instead of open communication, they’ve kind of accepted it as an aspect of the other person rather than trying to change it or properly address it. I’d say at this point, Simon does not trust Knife as much as he used to, by a severe amount. Knife at the moment is putting too much trust in Simon, without realizing that he might be mislead or lied to about things, because he feels he’s the one who has wronged more in the relationship at this point. (even with Simon’s cheating.) 

Is one of them keeping secrets from the other? Why? How would they react if the secret was revealed?

Well, I’m not gonna say how they’d react! But both of them are keeping secrets from eachother, although Knife is very willing to lay it all out on the table finally. He isn’t really giving Simon enough breathing room to process it all. 

Are they keeping a secret together? How do they feel about that?

They were keeping their relationship a secret from Fork. Which Simon hated doing, but was serious about keeping it for Knife. 

Do they view their relationship as temporary or permanent?

Both view it pretty permanent. I think that’s something that’s been maintained even before they dated and the roles were more mentor/student. Simon fixated into the “devoted follower” role faster than he realized. 

Are they satisfied with their relationship? Do they wish they were closer/more distant?

They were very satisfied, now its a mess and has been that way for decades. Both wanted to make it back to what it was but Simon sees that as impossible, so he wants to make it into something better - at least hoping that growth will be the best answer to their problems than trying to recreate their old dynamic. The hardest part will be actually letting go from that, which is easier said than done and Simon already can tell he’s going to struggle keeping that goal in mind. 

What is their best memory together?

Hard to say, cause its not really specific. More like “walking around somewhere with him” is probably what they both think of the most. 

What is their worst memory together?

The big “kicking you out” breakup. Or Knife discovering Simon’s sexual relationship with Cash LOL. That was an ugly fight. Simon’s worst is uh, I guess Knife dying and fixating on their last encounter, which he thought was their last one. 

When were they the most vulnerable with each other?

Hard to say, they’ve certainly been vulnerable plenty of times. 

Do they have any mutual friends? Mutual enemies?

Knife doesnt have any friends LMAOOOOOO yeah they probably got 1 billion mutual enemies. Nail/Mop is probably one which comes to mind the quickest.

How do these two interact with each other in public versus in private?

Well in public they’re kind of vaguely distant with obvious tension, in private its very mushy gushy romance. 

If a stranger saw them together, how would they describe their relationship?

I dunno, they’d probably assume Knife hated all the affectionate attention Simon gives him. He’s just a tsundere. 

How would these characters react to being stuck in a small room with each other?

They’d be surprisingly okay for a while. Although i think Knife would start to have a traumatic panic attack and hurt Simon idk.

How far would they go for each other? Would they risk their own lives for each other?

TOO far. Of course they’d risk their own lives!!!!! this is anime!

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick’. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

[jounosparticles]

I'm curious....... what do you think the hunting dogs's backgrounds are?

I mean, we know fukuchi's and tachihara's and jouno was in a crime ring but i mean like specific details. does that make sense?

like what was their education or did they ever have to do like a mini basic training? did tachihara create a milk locker?

idk they've been taking up my brain since like October and what I do is that since they don't have specific backgrounds my brain just fills in the spaces for me. just little backstory hcs djdebd

hi!!

okay so….sorry in advance i got really rambly but here are some of my ideas for everyone

the whole team

- tachi joined likely after the others

- i assume fukuchi was there from the start

- but you don’t start a one person team so i’d assume teruko and tecchou were there as well!

- fukuchi specifically picked out jouno for the team. maybe he chose all the members? maybe not im not sure really.

- personally i think they started the team with tecchou, teruko, and fukuchi. then shortly after jouno joined then tachi after

- fukuchi wore the hunting dogs uniform during untold origins. this means either they never got new uniforms or the team has existed for at least 12 years.

- that makes me wonder if there are former hunting dogs that have retired or been killed? or maybe it was just fukuchi and teruko at the start.

- i suppose if tecchou joined while a teenager still (16-19ish) during untold origins it would make sense still. i assume he’s in his late 20s if not older (please i need canon ages asagiri please make them at least 28 please im so sick of everyone being in their early 20s sob. anyways). it would still make sense for them to form then

- however i don’t believe fukuchi makes an appearance in the untold origins book? so it may just be a lore mistake and the team may be newer. who knows.

now onto individual characters

fukuchi

- was in the military prior to the hunting dogs. we know this

- his power probably was the core reason the hunting dogs were founded

- i assume he started training and set this goal in his childhood after getting the signal from amenogozen

- he likely helped form the idea of the group

- i like to imagine he knew teruko beforehand

- i assume fukuchi’s ability manifested out of pure desire to save the world. likely around when he got drafted. since fukuzawa and him fought evenly as children i assume he didn’t have the ability then

- i feel the other hunting dogs likely warmed up to him quickly. he just has the personality of that

- he’s probably always felt immense pressure and stress throughout his entire life due to him knowing the worlds outcome results in his actions

- he likely started out with a strong fighting spirit (like when he met fukuzawa) but he was likely drained and very stressed over time

- as for education, hmmmmm. i actually am not sure. we really don’t get much of any mention of school in bsd in general (other than tanizaki and naomi being students and kunikida being a former teacher). i assume fukuchi got some schooling but enlisted while young

i don’t have too much to say about him since we seen a lot of his backstory.

teruko

- i want to say she was also likely military or a public service worker of sorts

- we really don’t know much about teruko. but she has the personality of someone who is very used to her work and likely has been here a long time

- i feel she probably completed school and went to further school in law enforcement

- she is very tough and good at interrogation. it likely made her one of the most noticeable candidates for the job

- i assume her ability manifested likely out of a time where she desperately wanted to change people, hence the way it is. i’m not really sure how exactly ill have to think more on this!

- i feel she was likely quick to adjust to the job. she doesn’t seem to have an issue talking to people and would likely be a good coworker from the start

- a lot of her background is hard to tell when we don’t quite know how old she is. if i could hazard to guess even roughly how long she’s been around i could come up with some better ideas i think

- i like to imagine she uses her ability to mess with people before they find out what her ability is. imagine going to get a coffee and coming back and seeing a random baby at ur coworkers desk. that would be so funny

- she also probably could use her ability to get those "kids eat free” meals and stuff. not really a backstory headcanon it’s just what i would do

- i bet she always had her sense of justice. i don’t think she ever swayed far from the way she is now. her job likely toughened her a bit and made interrogation easier that way but her heart was always the same intent

- i assume she knew who fukuchi was before they started working together (guessing his reputation was already good or maybe they knew each other).

- she’s probably the brains behind a lot of their work. despite fukuchi being the captain usually it’s her and jouno strategizing the most out of them all. i assume she’s super smart

- i feel she was probably very willing to do the surgeries. she already likely was very strong and skilled in her work. she’s dutiful and i think everything about her screams willing

tachihara

- i assume he’s somewhat new to the squad. remembering he’s only 19

- that makes me wonder if he had went to highschool? if so he was part time hunting dog part time student. must have been one hell of a week. i’m saying he probably dropped out after getting recruited OR idk had a lesser workload until he graduated

- i wish i knew how long he has been in the mafia, that could help me figure out a timeline a lot easier for him.

- i assume he hasn’t been in the mafia much longer than the manga has been going on, however he must have very quickly moved up the ranks somehow without outing his ability. possibly his enhanced strength helped here

- he was found and recruited by the hunting dogs but we don’t know when. somehow long enough to gain their trust to infiltrate the mafia, but not long enough to make a name for himself as a hunting dog.

- guessing, he got found at 17, started infiltrating the mafia at 18, and has been since (at 19). best timeline i can think of that’s reasonable. of course he Could have been much younger but i just don’t see that

- anyway, prior to any of this. we know he wanted to be different than his brother which caused him to act out in rebellion

- regardless of that i think the people around him (including his brother) taught him a lot of who he is

- tachihara is loyal and caring, much like his brother seemed to be. they felt very similar in personality there it really shows

- i’ll also note that his eyes stay bright white most of the time in the manga. despite most of the mafia having black eyes

- but i think being in the mafia taught tachihara that good people can do horrible things, which likely influenced his decision in sparing yosano

- i’d guess his ability manifested out of grief for his brother. he formed a much more dangerous ability that would help him get revenge

- as for joining the hunting dogs, i assume he fit in well from the start

- i think he seems like the type to be very easy to get along with which probably made him an optimal choice for infiltrating but also being part of the job.

- we can see that he cares about the approval of his coworkers as well

- he looks very happy and proud of completing his job. i think this just further shows that he’s always loyal to people, even if they contradict each other

- i bet he was surprised at the start of his military job. he likely didn’t have an option to not join. the sudden change from the surgeries was probably hard. i assume he didn’t train much beforehand since it wasn’t really important

- i like to imagine they all trained him a little bit and they all grew to like him rather quickly !!

jouno

- so all we know is that he was in a crime group six years prior to the current events

- as for schooling i’m really lost here. he might have went to school. he might not have went much. who knows. not me

- i assume jouno had a rougher upbringing. assuming he is at least in his mid-late twenties he was in his crime group until he was an adult

- that is explained a lot in his actions as well. he’s maintained his sadistic personality overtime. compare that to dazai who left his crime group while still a teenager and has had a clear change in some core personality traits

- of course, we don’t know how criminal-era jouno was. but i assume he didn’t change too much since based off the way he acts now.

- we also know he was an executive in said criminal organization, so he was likely affiliated with them for a long time.

- let’s take a quick look at the only executive jouno picture:

this photo is really neat. the striped outfit could indicate that he was a prisoner that fukuchi spotted. it could also just appear that way to look ambiguous as well. jouno also is smiling in the image, this could also be him being asked by fukuchi to join the hunting dogs here. it doesn’t really explain what’s going on or where he is. i just think it’s neat and worth bringing up. had be been a prisoner though im sure it would have been an easy escape given his ability (unless he was in an ability space, of course).

- anyway. this picture also shows his eyes closed, meaning he loses his sight before joining the hunting dogs

- he mentioned that he Lost his sight when arresting dazai, which means he was not born that way. i switch between it being an injury or an illness that made him lose it. either idea is interesting to me and i hope we get an answer.

- either way, i want more criminal executive jouno information

- and i’d assume his ability formed when he felt trapped somewhere. possibly cornered or in a dangerous situation and just needed a quick way to escape and formed it out of fear maybe?

-as for joining the hunting dogs, i assume it was a rougher transition for him

- the people who were after him before are now his coworkers. he probably felt awkward over this (if the others know his past)

- i assume he had the hard time adjusting to everyone too. probably easily annoyed but not wanting to come off that way until he was confident in his job

- i also assume the surgeries wasnt something he initially wanted to do but ultimately did because that’s better than being executed or imprisoned for his crimes.

- he also seems like the type to be reluctant to work with others. possibly making adjusting harder for him

- his morality probably clashed against tecchou’s a bit at first, until jouno found the joy in helping others

- i believe the hunting dogs really helped him find joy in helping people as well. their dedication probably helped motivate him

- he also mentions in one panel after fukuchi asks him to betray "so this isn’t some kind of military test?" which (maybe a stretch) Could suggest he’s been tested by the military to see if he’s still reliable. maybe this creates some lack of trust because people don’t believe him.

- i also assume his upbringing influences the way he acts towards people. he’s cold and mean sometimes but that’s likely a defense mechanism to not b too close to others

tecchou

- once again we don’t know much about tecchou yet. there’s nothing about his past yet but that doesn’t mean i don’t have a ton of ideas floating around

- i feel like teruko he probably went to school and then law-enforcement in post secondary. i know he was a good student too

- we know he’s typically very composed. even when joking he often keeps a straight face except that one time he teases jouno but that’s just him being gay idk

- because of this i wonder if he had some communication issues growing up? maybe working in anything unprofessional didn’t work for him since he often was taken seriously

- however with that in mind i believe he was definitely raised with his just morals. it seems really driven into him and seems to be a huge part of who he is

- i like to think his sense of justice stems from being failed by the system before. maybe he lost someone close to him and never got proper justice?

- what backs that up is how he mentions "there is evil that goes unpunished, and good that goes unrewarded.” and mentions that his blade helps decide that. that is an immense amount of pressure onto himself to keep everything he possibly can just

- such ideas i guess stem from his desire to never have someone not get what they deserve. destroy all evil, protect the innocent. he wants to do what the system failed before and takes it upon himself.

- maybe his ability manifested out of his desire to protect people?

- as for adjusting into the hunting dogs, i feel it wasn’t great or badly. got along with people fine but i feel maybe his very straight-faced personality was a strong contrast to the others at first

- he was possibly military beforehand? or law enforcement and was recruited because of his ability and his strong morals

- he was probably willing to do the surgeries and was already very physically trained. anything to serve proper justice

- he seems to be the calmest-acting of them all. very straightforward when he talks. maybe this was hard to get along with initially? until you’re used to him

- i don’t think he sees the way he acts as unusual either. probably just doesn’t care and is just himself. (which i love)

- i also like to imagine his fixation on ants and stuff is just something he’s always liked. idk he’s so cute for that

- he probably excelled at working right away. i see him to be very good at staying determined to get the job done

thank you for the question!! this was super fun to look at. also please ignore the grammar issues i am super tired

[moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom]

time for Thoughts™️

I will always rant about every member of the disaster lineage but I just got very very especially sad about Dooku and Qui-Gon. 

how did I not realise how late he left the Order??? I always thought it was idk, some time earlier than the Phantom Menace but this is just. they really went for the peak angst potential didn’t they

we now know what happened to Yaddle, but at what cost…

As always, fuck Sheev. look what he did. he took a bunch of perfectly good light-siders and fucked them up is what he did.

SNIPS AND SKYGUY ARE BACK Y’ALL IM SOBBING I MISSED THEM SO MUCH

I feel like Anakin really does Not know how to Handle Child at the time of that first training montage. he does his best to be a good teacher and train her the best he can but I definitely got scary chills watching him say “again” so many times in a progressively darker tone

I’m fine I’m just crying over how all that training, no matter Anakin’s downfalls, saved Ahsoka’s life in the end

Rex!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my first reaction to Rex mentioning Jesse was basically just “oh hey it’s my dude!!!” and then I realised that Anakin and Jesse both trained Ahsoka in ways that she then used to survive their attempts of trying to kill her and now I’m not okay

that handful of Obi-Wan scenes was a nice bonus

Caleb getting all excited about Ahsoka doing the droid training exercise he’s so precious-

The funeral.

no because the fact that Ahsoka would have been chased down and possibly killed by the Empire if they found out she was still alive but she went to Padmé’s funeral anyway to pay her respects because Padmé was so important to her-

“She was my friend” feelings. so many feelings. i cried here.

Rex sticking with Ahsoka until after the funeral makes me have a lot of emotions and a lot of thoughts; iirc we don’t actually know how long they were together after the Tribunal crash before they split ways

SO LUCASFILM IF YOU COULD JUST NOT TEAR MY HEART OUT FOR ONE KRIFFING SECOND THAT WOULD BE GREAT

*insert that one textpost that was like [me every second Bail Organa was on screen] ‘that’s Bail Organa’*

anyone else feel a little iffy about the whole “we have a duty thing” he was saying to Ahsoka? maybe I just wasn’t paying enough attention, but it felt a little to me like he meant she had to/was obligated to join the Rebellion. it doesn’t seem very in sync with Bail in general, but if someone has a different interpretation that makes more sense, please share with me.

the only other thing is I’m just confused and a little irritated about the section with the farmers and the Inquisitor. like, when in the timeline exactly did that whole encounter take place? and if they wanted to show a storyline like that, why didn’t they just animate some key moments from the Ahsoka novel? I feel like it sort of gives it more weight in a way to have Ahsoka’s big return to the good fight and the Rebellion set two years after the end of the war, and given how similar the setups are, I have to say I would have much rather had at least some scenes from the book in animation than a whole new separate thing that kind of replaces it.

me when the girl’s brother went to tattle to the Empire: every town’s got a Timm 😔

ngl I really thought she might be Kaeden at first but it wasn’t too bad I suppose.

especially since I will never, and I mean never, get sick of watching Ahsoka kick Inquisitor ass

all I want to do is wrap all my faves up in a blanket and hug them very tight yk

in conclusion: I am just screaming. so hard right now.

[ducktracy]

anyone on twitter who labels themselves "cartoonist" is a red flag. nothing wrong with liking old cartoons. i love old cartoons. but every person who draws their art like them has aligned themselves with right wing views or associates with right wing people these past four years and excuses it with "they make valid points" or "they draw good" and im sick of it. do better.

this is such an egregiously ballsy attempt at bait that it isn’t even funny.. BUT IT IN FACT IS! because it’s the only reason i’m bothering to respond to this.

i’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt because i do think there are some good intentions somewhere. it’s certainly good to be aware of those spreading harmful ideas and thoughts, and that does need to be shut down. i appreciate you being cautious, and i get what you mean in that there is sometimes an overlap with how someone draws and what they associate with. it doesn’t sound like you’re very familiar with me or what i do and say. so, if i’m a complete stranger to you, then i can see where there would be wariness.

at the same time, there is this wonderful little idea in life about correlation not being causation. i would really appreciate it if you didn’t make incredibly baseless and harmful assumptions about me based on… how i draw and what i’m passionate about? there’s some awful strong verbiage in here. “every person” who is this every person? how does the label “cartoonist” exclusively tie to old cartoons? can you point in the direction where you find me liking, endorsing, or spreading right wing ideology? i get that i’m not exactly known for my role as a political blog, but i have to say that i don’t exactly appreciate the comparison to the same people who’ve called me a dyke all my life.

i am very passionate about the label of a “cartoonist”, which is why i’m choosing to take the bait and respond. i am a cartoonist. call me whatever you want. an artist. an illustrator. painter? animator? storyboard revisionist? a drawer, even! whatever. but i resonate especially with the connotations of a cartoonist—ones not created out of baseless accusations in an attempt to get attention.

there are people who try to steer others away from using the label cartoonist—this is the first argument for… this… that i’ve heard against it, but there’s a feeling that it’s “unprofessional” or “immature”. but that’s what i am! i love cartoons! i study cartoons! i draw cartoons! i make cartoons! cartoon is such a fun word. it’s innocent, it’s mischievous, it’s earnest. the push not to call oneself a cartoonist because it’s immature or unprofessional makes me all the more attached to it. because it’s what i do. it’s what i AM. cartoons dominate most aspects of my life, to an extent that most people would be like “…that doesn’t seem healthy.” and i do have enough support and other opportunities to keep me busy that keep me in the range of grass touching, thankfully! but cartoons have a deeply profound impact on my life and have since i was a young child. i embrace it especially now seeing as i am living a dream i never thought possible: working on one of the most beloved cartoons and pop culture iconoclasts period and hoping to inspire the kids watching today the same way i was inspired watching it years and years ago as an impressionable little child.

anyhoo. if you are actually sending this out of genuine intent and not just to stir the pot, then i’m at least hoping you’re just young and misinformed or your intentions are just misplaced. i don’t disagree that there are shitty people out there who probably do call themselves cartoonists, but a cartoonist is someone who draws cartoons. it’s not some sort of elusive dog whistle—not that i’m aware of, anyway. if you are indeed sending this in earnest, i appreciate you trying to be wary, but this is a very, very shallow mindset and baseless assumptions like these do more harm than good. i promise i’m more on your side than you think.

if you have a genuine issue with me or anything i say/do, then please send me a DM or ask off anon, because i’m always looking for ways to improve and reflect and be more aware as a person. i’m certainly not immune from criticism, and am always open for discussion. sending such a baseless ask on anon says to me that this isn’t necessarily the case here.

i hate getting sanctimonious and too serious, so i’ll end on a lighthearted note. this is the kind of stuff i draw. i’ve been listening obsessively to Mel Blanc as Porky Pig sing a song called “Giddyap Lazy Willie” for two days straight now. i promise i am not the threat that you think i am. look at how silly this is. it’s gonna be okay.