#it even put me in the correct room that the Operator is in. that room had not been opened at the point in the story I was at

[robotwrangler]

Thinking about when I had a dream that turned out to technically be a prophecy bc it perfectly predicted a large plot development in Warframe’s storyline that I hadn’t gotten even close to yet

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy ���operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

[embarrasingmf]

₊˚ෆ | phone troubles | S.B (1)

SUMMARY: After Butcher leaves you to watch Soldier Boy, you decide to teach him to use a mobile phone.

WARNINGS: not proofread, mention of drugs, implied drug use (it’s only ben doing it), swearing, maybe OOC ben???

WORD COUNT: 885.

A/N: changed the title layout to make it look nicer / neater! ALSO WHY IS THE GIF SO FUCKING BIG HJHJGJGJGJGJFJ

part two! | part three! | part four!

To be frank, you thought that putting Soldier Boy on board was a bad idea, but Billy Butcher — the guy who was technically your boss — ignored your hesitance and released him from a three decade slumber.

You always stayed away from Soldier Boy, or Ben as you had soon found out, your mistrust and the fact that he was just slightly radioactive kept you away.

Ben didn’t seem to mind either, he never paid much attention to you.

But, the universe and Butcher seemed to have different plans other than you keeping your distance from Ben.

Because now you were standing in the middle of a motel room, Butcher in front you and the rest of The Boys standing near the door.

“I am not staying back to watch Soldier Boy.” You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest like a petulant child.

Butcher barked out a laugh, “Well somebody needs to watch ‘im.”

“Why not make you or Hughie do it? He seems to trust you two the most.” You offered with a shrug.

“I’m the leader of this operation,” Butcher said simply. “So I needa be there on this little mission.”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not doin’ it.”

Butcher scoffed, “Oh come on, luv! Just do it!”

You shook your head again just in a more firm manner this time.

“If I tell you to do sumthin’, you do it.” Butcher said firmly, taking a step closer and pointing a finger at you.

You raised your hands in mock defense. “Okay, okay! Just don’t kill me..” You grumbled.

Butcher let out a triumphant huff before turning to the rest of the people in the room,

“Alright, let’s get outta here.”

You watched Butcher and the others fill out of the room before you turned to Ben, who was sitting on the bed while holding a The Seven merchandise cup in his hand.

“Can you believe men wear this pussy-gear nowadays?” He asked incredulously and pointed to the TV, you turned to the TV to see an ad for a baby carrier that a man just so happened to be wearing.

“It’s the 21st century Ben—“ You started, but Ben cut you off.

“Soldier Boy. It’s fuckin’ Soldier Boy you refer me to.” He demanded, shooting a glare in your direction.

“Crimson Countess used to call me Ben, the fucking bitch…” He muttered under his breath, moving to sit at the couch and crush some cocaine.

You stayed silent for a bit after that, eventually decided to just scroll through your phone.

—————————————————————————

After about thirty minutes of mindless scrolling on social media, you spared a glance in Ben’s direction; who was struggling to change a channel with the remote.

“Hey, Be— Soldier Boy.” You quickly corrected yourself, not wanting to face Ben’s aggressive wrath for fucking up what name he demanded you call him.

“Hm?” Ben looked in your direction, raising an eyebrow.

“Come here,” You patted the empty space on the sofa beside you.

Ben crossed his arms defiantly. “And why should I?”

“Because I want to show you something.” You rolled your eyes. “Now come here.”

Ben begrudgingly got up from the cocaine patch he had made himself after ‘the last batch was too weak’ on the table before walking over to the couch.

He plopped down on the space beside you, and you could’ve sworn you bounced a bit because of how heavy this man was.

“Here,” You shoved your phone into his hands, and he looked at your Home Screen.

“Why do I fucking need this?” Ben looked over at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Because I wanna see if you can work a phone.”

“I obviously can’t. I couldn’t even work the shitty remote.” Ben grumbled, tempted to shove the phone back in your hands.

But then he accidentally swiped to the side, and he watched as the apps that previously showed up just slid to the side as new ones popped up.

“What the fuck..?” His eyebrows furrowed in barely visible awe.

“You got the hang of it already!” You said with a light laugh, making an up gesture.

“Now swipe up to see the apps I’ve had open.” Ben followed your instructions, swiping up to see what apps you had open previously.

“Huh, that’s so weird.” He mumbled, poking at the screen a bit before he eventually opened an app.

“What is this?” You looked over and notice he was in your messages.

“This is how you text and call people.”

“Like I can text Butcher or Hughie right now.” You continued, and Ben seemed to have an idea in his head before scrolling down a bit to find Hughie’s contact.

You watched as he started slowly typing with just one finger, soon spelling out the message: ‘Hey pussy-boy’

Shaking your head, you looked up to meet Ben’s mischevious gaze.

“Seriously? Don’t send that-“ But it was too late, Ben had already hit send as soon as you met his eyes.

You sighed. Yet, you knew that Hughie would know Ben sent it.

Ben was the only one that called Hughie pussy-boy.

Turning back to your phone, you swiped up again and picked another app for Ben to explore while you showed him how to work a mobile phone.

—————————————————————————

feedback is appreciated, especially since this is my first drabble after not writing for a while!

[giuseppe-yuki]

anesthesia

kimi antonelli x tiger shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2.3k

warnings: none, really.

part of my shapeshifter!reader spinoff series

summary: kimi + anesthesia? not a good combo.

photo credits from pinterest :)

in the spacey kitchen of kimi‘s family house, you bustled around with your boyfriend‘s mother, preparing the night‘s dinner- homemade gnocchi. both of you chatted idly as you waited for the lightly salted water to boil on the stove- it had to reach a certain temperature to be considered hot enough to put the pain-stakingly hand rolled gnocchi in. 

however, your peaceful moment was ruined when kimi busted though the kitchen doorway with a thin piece of paper in his hand. 

he clears his throat, wrinkling the paper in nervousness. 

you wipe your floury hands on a wet rag and hurry over to kimi. you didn‘t want to assume the worst, but what if he was hurt? did something happen at the mercedes facilities? gently putting your hand on his arm to comfort him, you question kimi. “are you okay, baby? what’s wrong?” 

thrusting the paper onto the dirty counter so both you and his mother can see, he explains. ”so…i just went to my dentist and he said i might have to have my wisdom teeth removed- like tomorrow afternoon.“ 

you huff in exasperation, lightly shoving your boyfriend aside in a joking manner. ”kimi! you had me worried for a second!“ 

he rolls his eyes. 

his mother laughs, having just finished reading the appointment overview. ”no, mia cara, he‘s just scared because he has to be put under anesthesia!“

kimi’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly tries to stop his mother from saying anything else. ”mamma, no!”

kimi’s mother just bats her son‘s hands away. smiling at you as if sharing a secret, she continues on. “last time kimi had to be put under anesthesia was when he broke his arm in a kart crash, and let’s just say- he went a little crazy.“

you had never seen kimi so nervous before. not during your first date, not during the negotiations period with toto, and not even in the moments before doing fp1 in a formula 1 car for the first time ever!

kimi twiddled his thumbs and adjusted his seat every two seconds as you drove him to the dentist office in your custom mini cooper. 

keeping your eyes on the twisty roads of italy, you reach over with one hand to squeeze his hand. “it‘s alright, kimi,” you comfort, “i‘m sure the procedure will go fine! and, if you are scared of the anesthesia, don‘t be. everything will be okay.“

everything was actually not okay. 

it started when the dentist’s assistant had fetched you from the nicely decorated waiting room of the dentist office. 

“you are his… girlfriend, correct?” the assistant asks, flipping through a manila folder neatly labeled as ‘antonelli, andrea kimi’. 

you nod, trailing behind the woman in light blue scrubs through the maze-like hallways. 

“great!” she exclaims, opening a fancy white door and gesturing inside. “your boyfriend is here.”

when you walk in, kimi was slung over a dentist chair, eyes half closed and mouth stuffed to the brim with white gauze. his head lolled backwards and he was subconsciously twitching his fingers. even so, you applauded his ability to look so adorable under such conditions. you walk towards the chair, which was placed smack dab in the middle of the room next to some glistening metal tools and a big dental light that was shining directly into kimi’s face.

a lady in a white lab coat approaches you before you can talk to your boyfriend, hand out. “hello, you must be kimi’s girlfriend!” she says, beaming at you and enthusiastically shaking your hand. “i’m glad to say that the operation was a success!” letting go of your hand and scribbling something down on a piece of paper, she continues on. “i do have to say though, we did administer anesthesia in order to keep him comfortable for the procedure. he will be a little disoriented- ” 

before the doctor could finish her sentence, kimi roughly pushes himself up from the dentist chair, glaring at you. 

“WHO are YOU?!” he shouts, voice a little muffled by the gauze in his mouth. “get AWAY from me- i have a girlfriend!”

you look at him in disbelief. beside you, the doctor and the nurse muffle their laughter. 

“this is normal- usually the anesthesia lasts for a few hours, and he’ll be back to his regular self in no time!” the nurse explains.

you turn around to kimi aggressively punching the air around you, but missing every time.

“im warning you!” he slurs, “if you don’t get away from me, my girlfriend is gonna- is gonna eat you!” 

the dental assistant and dentist both raise a brow at kimi’s lowkey concerning words, but brush it off as another side effect of the anesthesia. 

“shut up, kimi!” you hiss in his ear, now trying your best to haul him out of the door in his disoriented state. 

he seems to cooperate with you momentarily from the operating room to the parking lot outside, until you reach your mini cooper.

“EWWWW!” he yells at the top of his lungs, causing several other people in the parking lot to look over. “I CANNOT BE SEEN IN A MINI COOPER! I HAVE A CONTRACT WITH MERCEDES.”

you slap your hand over his mouth, quickly mouthing sorrys to the people who probably had their eardrums explode from kimi’s screech. 

“kimi,” you reprimand. “you have to be quiet! we are in a public space and you are disrupting other people. now, you get inside the car right now.” 

he grumbles, but slowly stumbles his way into the passenger seat. 

you softly close his door and hop into your driver’s seat, sighing in exasperation. perhaps his mother was right. he did get a little crazy under anesthesia. maybe you should have called ollie for backup. 

after a bit of a struggle putting on kimi’s seatbelt, (he seemed to think it was a snake trying to strangle him) you back up from your parking spot and slowly make your way to the exit of the plaza. 

in the passenger seat, reclined all the way back with his feet on the dash like a passenger princess, kimi promptly bursts into tears. 

trying not to get hit by a random dude in a light blue vespa, you can only spare glances at kimi thrashing around in his seat like an eel, the only thing stopping him from flipping into the center console was the seat belt. 

“what??” you exclaim, head turning back and forth trying to see what’s possibly wrong with your boyfriend while also focusing on the road. “is there something wrong, kimi?”

“yes!!” he sniffles, wiping the streams of tears of his face. “you called me kimi and that’s not my name! my name is andrea. apologize right now!”

good god, you think, feeling peeved. you couldn’t wait until his anesthesia wore off.

putting on your best apologetic face, you quickly apologize. “okay, i am so sorry for that, andrea. how should i make it up to you?”

just like you flipped a switch, he immediately stops crying. “yay! thank you!” he says giddily, kicking his legs. “how about you get me ice cream??”

you don’t have to think twice before accepting his offer. the night before, you had researched a little bit about wisdom teeth surgery aftercare, and apparently ice cream was really good for you. besides, you felt like you deserved a treat after using so much energy to drag kimi out of the dental clinic.

you reroute to the nearest ice cream shop, and kimi thankfully stays silent for most of the car ride, but occasionally messed with the seat adjustment buttons a few more times than you thought was necessary. 

however, ten minutes to ice cream shop, at a stoplight,  kimi suddenly jolts from his position looking out the window. a shiny silver mercedes g-wagon sits glistening in the sun next to your tiny mini cooper. 

as if he just had neuron activation, he snaps his head towards you. “hey! you! did you know, i am a formula 1 driver for mercedes?”

the light turns green, so you step on it, the g wagon following at the same acceleration as you. 

“umm, yes! i do know that actually,” you say, navigating to the left-most lane. 

your boyfriend giggles mischievously, even though nothing was funny in the first place. “well,” he drawls out, holding up one finger. “i actually know how to drive very good. i can show you if you want?”

before you have a chance to react, your boyfriend grasps your steering wheel and yanks it aggressively to the right, almost running you into the expensive g-wagon. 

“kimi- i mean andrea! do not do that! ” you screech, prying his fingers off of the wheel and hurriedly correcting the car before it can cause any damage to any other vehicles on the road. 

he laughs and claps his hands at the g-wagon honking its horn at you, as if he didn’t just almost create a five car pileup in the middle of the road.

thankfully, the rest of time goes smoothly without any incidents. well that is, until you got into the shop. 

“what flavor do you want, andrea?” you question, putting emphasis on the ‘andrea’ part. you did not feel like dealing with a breakdown just because you called him by the nickname that literally everyone called him. 

“stracciatella!!” he trills, twirling in a circle. 

ignoring the strange looks from other customers in the store, you place your and kimi’s orders, collect them, and snatch a comfortable looking bench outside of the store to eat your ice cream. 

of course, half-way through shoveling his ice cream into his mouth, (he smeared at least a fourth of his ice cream on his shirt) he decides that his memories of you would disappear again like it did in the dentist office, and he starts yelling bloody murder.

“EEEEEEEE!” he announces to every passerby in a five mile radius, jumping up and down while waving his arms. “i do NOT know this woman! she is trying to kidnap me!” 

you place your ice cream down next to you, snatch his flailing arms and shove him a tad roughly back onto the bench. “so sorry!” you shout to onlookers. “he’s under anesthesia right now- wisdom teeth removal!” your line seems to work, as no bystanders call the police on you, but he still continues to yell. 

you try every possible method you can think of, like begging him to stop screaming, trying to bribe him, and attempting to drag him to your car, but none of the above work, and he kept insisting that he didn’t know you. 

having no choice but to use your last resort, you make sure assure kimi that you will be right back (not that he particularly cared in this mindset) and dashed into a side street.

padding quickly out of the alley by the ice cream shop, you approach kimi. he reacts exactly how you hoped he would- eyes widening in realization and a smile lighting up his face- a direct opposite of his suspicious glares and nasty side-eyes from before. 

“baby!” he shrieks, stumbling a bit towards you before clutching onto your fur. “i missed you soooo much!”

you wrap your tail around his body protectively to steady him, so he doesn’t fall.

“i’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles, petting you. “because a really weird lady literally tried to kidnap me! can you even believe that?”

you practically roll your eyes. he didn’t recognize you in your human form, but he did in your tiger form? unbelieveable.

carefully, you unwind your tail and softly nudge kimi onto your back. once you are sure he is secure on your back, you wind through several gaping tourists and an annoyed looking old nonna on the cobblestone street towards the parking lot. you purposely bow your head, trying your best to not look hostile to the passerbyers (it was kind of hard considering you were literally a tiger in the middle of a street in bologna, and with a groggy boy that looked suspiciously like the famed racing driver kimi antonelli sprawled on your back)

when you reach your hastily-parked mini cooper, you practically drag him off your back and use your teeth to yank him into the vehicle. double-checking to make sure no one was looking, you shift back into your human form, and speed back to kimi’s house in a record time that would probably make toto reassign you as the new merc formula one driver. 

kimi’s mother cackles in laughter when she sees your disheveled-looking self trudge through the front door, one hand towing a tired kimi behind you. 

“i hope kimi didn’t cause you too much trouble,” she laughs from her position at the kitchen island, one hand on her hip. 

your boyfriend slumps onto his living room couch, one hand still stubbornly clasped in yours. he falls asleep within seconds.

“it was… alright,” you reply, raking your free hand through his curls. “if kimi ever needs to be brought home under anesthesia again though, i will definitely be bringing backup,” you admit. 

his mother nods, smiling. “i’m just glad he has a girlfriend like you to take care of him,” she states before walking away. 

you blush a bit at her words. you were pretty lucky to have such an amazing future in-laws and talented boyfriend. honestly, dealing with 

daintily, you take a seat next to kimi, cooing when he subconsciously nuzzles his head into your lap. maybe kimi under anesthesia wasn’t so bad, after all.

“i love you, kimi!” you whisper to your boyfriend.

suddenly, his eyes snap open and he shoves himself off your lap. “my name is andrea!” he pouts, glaring at you.

 placing your head in your hands, you sigh defeatedly. you definitely take back your statement. 

a/n: sorry y'all i had the most shitty week (i failed my physics test 🥲) so i haven't been that active recently. i finally mustered up some energy tonight to type this one out lmao.

side note, i have reattached the taglist from my previous series just in case you guys would like to read the spinoff. feel free to let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist for this series! :)

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary

@mbappebby@madkohi@rakshatos@heartsforleclerc@papaya-twinks

[bigboysfalldeep]

photogenic - when cops go under

For over a year now, I've been running a photography business in a small town, but nobody knew it was just a cover-up for my mischievous games.

I've always been into hypnosis, especially when it meant bringing big guys under my control. I discovered that, under the right circumstances, anyone can fall victim to hypnosis. For me, I stumbled across a very interesting combination.

I was doing my research when I came across the use of light, smell, and sound to make someone a willful puppet, a mere plaything. A single light, scent, or sound alone won't be enough for most men to go under, but the correct mixture of all of them is pure blissful ecstacy.

I prepared my entire studio to fulfill my deepest wishes, and the whole setup was perfect. I had multiple ring lights, reflectors, strobe lights, and softboxes, all of them placed in a way to cover the entire stage in a warm, engulfing light. I made sure to let them flicker just barely, unseen for most unknowing eyes. It will exhaust the victim's mind and eyes, just what I need.

Of course, I created my own playlist of songs, mostly with ordinary background sounds, similar to elevator music, but I hid messages deep within the rhythm to subconsciously invade any unsuspecting minds.

To complete the setup, I placed a few candles here and there; I made them myself, using special ingredients that, when burned, act as some sort of aphrodisiac. A horny mind is a willing mind, and especially men are easily subjected to that method.

Just perfect, and the studio was operating for months without anyone suspecting a thing. Of course, I didn't just take control over anyone—just the beautiful ones, the ones that made me cry just by looking at them.

One day, however, I couldn't believe my eyes when I got an inquiry from the local sheriff department. They wanted to send an officer to a photoshoot for some sort of promotional material, but I didn't care. I was so excited that I didn't let that opportunity slip away. They just told me his name, Officer Romero. I had seen him around and heard his name. He was indeed a handsome man.

I prepared the entire studio and made sure everything was working perfectly fine when the doorbell rang. My heart was already racing so fast, and I could barely breathe steadily. I took several deep breaths before I opened the door. It got even worse when I looked into the cop's beautiful face.

"Officer Romero." I said I was reaching for his hand. "Right on time." He smiled and shook my hand.

"Of course." The officer said it in a deep, manly voice, which sent shivers down my spine. He looked so good in his uniform as well—so tight and thick, just the way I like them.

"Why don't you come in?" I motioned for him to enter my studio, which he did without hesitation. Getting a good look at his arse filling his pants, I quietly locked the door before following him closely.

"That's a nice studio." He growled deeply, taking a look around the main room. The music was already playing softly in the background, and even I smelled the faint scent of herbs hovering in the air all around us, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"Thank you." I nodded politely. "I hope I'm not disrupting your shift, officer."

He caught me staring at his uniform again, but he just let out a soft chuckle. "No, no. It's my day off, actually." He said, and his voice sounded so smooth, making my dick hard.

I just noticed he was carrying a bag right then. "I'm hitting the gym right after this shoot; I brought my gym gear too." The officer smiled contently, causing me to mirror him right away.

"Sounds good to me." I tilted my head and told him to put the bag to the side and to step onto the little stage I had prepared for him. I enjoyed watching him walk around in his uniform, as he was looking so fucking hot.

He got in position, struck a pose, and waited for me to take the first pictures. I saw him running both of his hands across his chest and waist, straightening his unfiorm shirt, and subconsciously checking if his pants were sitting okay.

At the same time, he kept touching his nose, running a hand through his light stubble, his hair, and down his neck. Was he nervous? Or was my setup already showing some effect on him?

"Are you ready?" I said as I turned on all the lights at the same time.

"Ugh." He groaned under his breath, slightly flinching at the barrage of light hitting his face. "I think so." Officer Romero's deep voice filled the room, causing my dick to pulsate softly.

"I hope it's not too bright." I knew it was way too much for simple pictures, but most people don't want to bother a professional.

"No, it's fine." The cop struck a pose again and struggled to keep his eyes focused.

I pressed my favorite button, the trigger of my camera. A light even brighter than all those lights around us. Luckily, I wasn't on the receiving end of this.

*Flash*

"Looking good," I said loudly, pressing another button so the lights dim yet start to flicker slightly.

Romero was way more comfortable with that setup, just as I hoped.

"How are you feeling, officer?" I hesitated for a moment when I noticed he was struggling to loosen up a little.

"I'm just nervous." He chuckled again with that deep voice. "I am sorry." The cop shrugged, and I saw his face blushing slightly.

"That's all good. It happens to the best of us." I nodded comfortingly. "Just breathe deeply; try to relax."

Right away, he did as I told him, taking one deep breath after another, taking in more and more of that alluring smell filling the air.

After a few more seconds, I noticed a steady shift in his posture. The more breaths he took, the more comfortable he became.

"Very good. Just keep breathing, but don't forget to smile." I chuckled as well, preparing to take yet another picture.

*Flash*

"That one was good." I licked my lips in anticipation; I knew that my setup was working perfectly fine.

Officer Romero was becoming more comfortable, kept breathing deeply, and looked right into the warm light.

"This feels good." He purred happily, stroking his own chest again before grabbing his own member through his pants. I could tell he wasn't paying attention to this; it was purely instinctive.

"Doesn't it?" I said I watched him stroking himself once, then twice, before striking another pose.

"Am I doing good?" He chuckled when I pulled the trigger again.

*Flash*

"You're doing so well, Officer. You're a natural." I smiled, enjoying seeing him open up more and more. At one point, he slightly started swaying, unable to take a firm stand—an indicator that he was ready for the next step.

"Can you hear me, Officer?" I watched him through the lens of my camera as his eyes unfocused for a second, his body kept swaying, and he let his hands run all over his upper body, his crotch, waist, and ass.

"Yes." He smiled derpily and tried to regain his composure by holding his hands in front of his chest.

*Flash*

"Good." I said it in a serious tone. "Now listen to me." With the press of a button, all the lights started to turn color, rhythmically to the sound of the music playing in the background.

His eyes widened, and he looked at me, waiting for any further commands.

"I want you to listen to me, breathe, and just breathe. Relax. It's so easy to just let me handle this, okay?" I watched his eyes roll back for a second; he was hooked on my voice already.

Officer Romero opened his mouth, but a single deep moan was the only thing escaping his lips at this point.

"Just look at these beautiful lights, how they spin around, all those colors." His eyes were unfocused again.

"Listen to my voice and the music and forget about your own thoughts. You don't need them right now."

The cop moaned again, touching his now visibly tenting cock through his tight pants.

"Take in more of that delicious scent; it will help you relax and be mine."

I watched him take several deep breaths, and a low guttural moan left his lips before he just smiled.

*Flash*

I was already leaking while watching him through the camera, but I needed to see if it worked.

So I turned off the lights and saw him standing there, swaying slightly, while he wasn't looking at anything in particular.

I approached him, reached for his muscular chest, and placed a hand on his badge.

"Can you hear me, Officer?" I whispered, and his posture shifted again. His body was reacting to the sound of my voice, twitching once he heard it.

"Yess." He moaned again.

"Very good boy." I stroked his firm chest again and again, causing him to smile contently. "You're a big boy, aren't you?" I chuckled, but he just growled in response.

"I want you to listen to me, Officer Romero." I pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand around his thick neck, the other stroking his chest and tummy through his soft clothes.

"I want you to be mine, my personal cop." I breathed into his ear. "You want it too, don't you?" The officer groaned in agreement, giving in to my embrace.

He was so heavy, so thick, and so beautiful.

"Very good. Now stand tall." Separating myself from him, I watched him regain his composure. He immediately struck that usual pose: arms behind his back, chin up, and a straight chest.

His handsome face was blank, his eyes unfocused and foggy, yet still so beautiful. The training really showed, and I couldn't help but touch his upper body, his pecs, and his arms firmly. It felt so good to feel his muscles bulge, causing the uniform to become even tighter around his well-formed body.

Biting my lip I grabbed my own tenting cock—oh, how much I wanted to get sucked off by the handsome cop. But first things first.

"Flex for me." I grabbed the camera again and took another picture, this one, for my personal collection. Officer Romero lifted one arm after another, causing his biceps to bulge firmly—fuck, so hot.

*Flash*

I moaned quietly at the sight of this man following all of my orders. Shaking my head in disbelief, I approached him again. "Stop flexing." I motioned for him to lower his arms, and he did.

I walked around him, appreciating his body some more. My hands encompassed his entire body, his broad back, his thick ass, and his thighs—so beefy, so good.

I had to hold back several moans, but I managed to behave myself.

Now standing in front of him again, I caressed his cheek—his skin was so soft—and let my fingers brush through his light beard, across his soft lips, and along his firm jawline.

"I'm so happy it was you." I breathed against his lips before I pulled him into that tight embrace again.

"Listen." I stroked his tummy now, firmly and lovingly. "I want you; I need you to be mine."

Officer Romero moaned into my ear and down my neck, making me leak some more. 

"I want you to focus on me, on my hand." I said as I let my hand run further down his body, right to his member bulging inside his uniform.

I grabbed him firmly, letting the palm of my hand rub against his thick cock.

"Get hard for me, boy, harder than ever before." I whispered into him, causing him to growl deeply.

His breathing intensified slowly, and his entire body tensed more and more. He was truly concentrating every fiber of his body to get hard—a sensational feeling.

As his cock grew harder, pressing against his pants and my hand, I smirked.

"Now, when I tell you to, you will release all that pressure building up inside your body, and with that, you will be mine, and mine alone."

"Yess." Officer Romero started to grind his hips against my hand, anticipating the coming release.

"Now." I breathed deeply, and with that, I felt his cock shooting multiple massive loads of his precious cum right against the palm of my hand. Letting out a long, guttural groan, causing his deep voice to break slightly, he leaned his head back, embracing this moment of pure blissful satisfaction.

More and more shots left the tip of his huge cock until he ran dry. Even then, he kept thrusting again and again. His mind was empty; all he could think of was cumming, letting go, and becoming a mindless, obedient toy.

I myself was breathing quickly, as I felt the same satisfaction as he did. I just came into my pants as well, and it felt so good.

In one swift motion, I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand inside to fondle his member for a little while. He kept purring the more I touched him. His cock was sticky, so hard and thick—I pulled it out of his trousers and took a good look at it—so huge.

"Look at me." I placed a hand around his neck, forcing him to look at me. Officer Romero was struggling to keep a straight face; his eyes were vacant; he was drooling, but that made him even more handsome.

"You did so good, Officer." I licked my lips again while stroking him—all of him—again.

He purred happily and enjoyed my loving touch as well. I started to unbutton his shirt now too, exposing an even tighter shirt underneath. Even though the outline of his abs was visible.

"Listen. Anytime you see the flash of my camera, you will go deeper and back into this state again. Do you understand?" I ran my hand across his tummy, cueing him to growl like a dog.

"Yes." He said it with his usually manly voice, now dull.

"Good. Now. When I tell you to, you will come back to yourself. You won't remember anything that happened while you were under. The conditioning will be the only thing that stays hidden inside your mind. Understood?" I said as I fixed his uniform shirt.

The cop nods in agreement.

"You won't be bothered by your stained clothes; instead, you will be as comfortable as before." Licking my lips, I tucked his thick cock back into his briefs and pants, but it was still incredibly visible that he was so hard.

Officer Romero consciously touches himself once I button up his uniform pants before he regains his composure. "Yes." He growled.

I walked back to my spot, turned the lights back on—the white ones—and watched him through the lens of my camera.

"Welcome back, Officer," I said firmly, and right away, I noticed the shift in his posture again.

His eyes focused, he blinked several times, and he straightened his back. Insticnteviely, he ran a hand across his chest, his tummy, and his crotch, but he didn't seem bothered at all.

"Sorry, did you say something?" A little confused, he tried to look at me through the bright light.

"I think we're done." I said, turning the lights off.

With a soft smile on his lips, he approached me, one hand on his chest and the other on his gun belt.

With every trigger, my camera took a dozen pictures, and I just showed him the first ones—good pictures, enough for their plans.

"Brilliant." The cop spoke back with his manly, deep voice, but I couldn't help but admire his body while he was standing right next to me.

"Good. I will edit them and send them  over."I smiled politely, and he smiled brightly.

"Sounds good to me." He didn't even realize he was touching himself through his slightly wet uniform pants. I love messing with people's minds, especially the hot ones.

Before he left, we exchanged numbers—for business purposes, of course—and he grabbed his gym back.

"See you around." We shook hands.

"Oh, I will make sure of that. I thought.

[partycatty]

I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)

Love ya !! 🥰💜

ough i love me a big smart man

johnny cage > teach you a lesson

notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied

[ masterlist ]

• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).

• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to

• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.

• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.

• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...

• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"

• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.

• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.

• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.

• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.

• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.

• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."

• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.

• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.

• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?

• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"

• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.

• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.

• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.

• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.

• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?

• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.

• "you're gonna have to be clearer."

• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.

• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.

• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."

• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.

• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.

• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.

• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.

• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.

• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.

• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.

• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.

• you can study later... probably.

[despairsphantomwrites]

Healed Scars (Part II) - Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

A/N: It's been a thousand close to three years now I think? Two probably? Without writing so please excuse the obviously rusty skills 😭 Apologies as well for any mistranslation, as I'm not particularly fluent in Russian either.

Disclamer: None of the characters on this piece are mine, they belong to Marvel.

Healed Scars (Pt. I)

Part 2 of 2.

A soft knock on the glass doors of the lab snapped you back into reality, glancing up and away from the hundreds of blueprints and notes scattered along the table.

"Something wrong?" You hum, confused as you find Wanda silently staring.

"No, just wondering if you're going to join for movie night."

"Sorry, don't share Steve's passion for classics." Chuckling, you focus back on the notes scribbled almost haphazardly.

"Mind if I stay with you?"

You motioned for her to come inside, and she obliged with a murmured 'thank you', eyes roaming freely around the area.

A pleasant silence had enveloped the room, save from the rustling of papers and the whirring of machines in the background. Every now and then, she could also hear you quietly humming to yourself, pausing only to correct some of the notes before resuming the gentle tune.

She couldn't help but freeze as her gaze landed on a familiar, dreadful sight.

"You can get rid of it if you so wish." You mused, taking notice of her not so subtle glare towards an old picture of the Stark Industries factory. "I'm not sure why dad kept it around, but I doubt he'd care if it suddenly went missing."

Wanda didn't reply, fingers twitching as her hands rested on the table. It would be oh so satisfying, to indulge in your offer and tear the image apart, along with some of the memories that would forever haunt her and her brother.

"…No."

Your eyes snapped up to meet hers, a silent question swirling openly in them, waiting for the brunette to continue.

"It would be like wasting all the effort we put into starting from scratch."

"The self-restraint is truly admirable."

If she had anything else to add, it was soon forgotten as a blur entered the lab, threatening to send the papers flying as it stopped just beside the young witch.

"Sorry."

"No harm done Speedy." Rearranging the notes that had scattered, you look up at him. "What brings you here?"

"I was looking for my dear twin sister, but seems like she found good company already." He teased, ruffling her hair slightly. You couldn't help but chuckle yet again when Wanda smacked his shoulder, blushing from embarrassment.

“вести себя (Behave.)” Wanda muttered, eyes flashing red playfully towards the speedster.

“вы не хотите, чтобы они знали? (You don’t want them to know?)”

“Заткнись (Shut up.)” She mumbled, not missing the smirk on his face. The moment was quite short-lived though as another knock interrupts the scene.

"Suit up kid, last minute mission."

"On it, Cap." You called out to the retreating soldier, reaching out to grab a small device and attaching it to your chest. "See you two around."

It had been close to a full day already.

The mission was a success, giving Tony an excuse (much to everyone's dismay) to throw yet another party.

Wanda glanced around, green eyes dancing along the crowd as she nursed another drink. It felt so foreign to her, abnormal even. She almost missed the relative peacefulness of your lab, silently cursing whoever was currently in charge of the operation for assigning you last minute.

She took a sip, attempting to drown out the barrage of thoughts intruding her mind, gasping as she focused on a new presence.

"Not enjoying the party?"

You barely had time to react before the air got knocked out of your lungs along with a pained groan, feeling her arms snaking around your frame in a bonecrushing hug.

"Looks like someone really missed me."

"Are you alright? Steve said comms were gone for a good while."

"Just a couple bruises, suit's seen better days though."

Wanda nodded absentmindedly, only now noticing the few cuts visible along your hands and face. One of her hands moved to gently caress a bruise forming around your eye.

"Now, what's gotten you into such a sour mood?"

"I just… feel out of place."

"Not one for crowds?"

"Not really, no." She sighed, observing across the room as her twin laughed and mingled with the guests. "Too loud for me."

"Physically or mentally?" You mused, earning a wince from the sokovian girl. "I'll take that as both."

"Can't we just go somewhere else? Please."

You debated the request for a moment, eyes drifting around in search for any familiar faces, finally landing on Natasha. As soon as the russian met your gaze you pointed up, earning a subtle nod from the spy.

"Let's go then, little witch."

As soon as you reached the rooftop, Wanda let out a sigh of relief. She leaned against the railing, allowing the soft breeze to soothe her even further.

"So you do have good ideas every now and then." The brunette quipped, knowing this area would be off-limits.

"I'm starting to believe that I'm a terrible influence on you, Maximoff."

The laugh that fell from her lips left you awestruck. It warmed your heart seeing the amount of progress in such a short time.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Wan-"

"No, I mean it." At your puzzled expression, she continued. "For helping me and Pietro adjust. We weren't exactly welcome at first, and the way we treated you all wasn't ideal either."

You hum in acknowledgement, settling by her side. You couldn't help but wonder if they'd have adapted faster if someone else had stepped up. Someone who wasn't a constant reminder of their past struggles.

"Stop that." Your eyes shift to meet her stern gaze. "You're thinking too loud. You're not-"

"-responsible for what happened, I know. And yet I can't imagine how it must have felt relying on someone whose name was engraved on the very same thing that ruined your life, your childhood."

"Stubborn as your father." The young witch huffed as she tenderly grasped your face, tugging you closer.

Wanda smirked as soon as her lips touched yours, effectively silencing your spiraling mind. The brief contact left you breathless, heart pounding wildly as you stared dumbfounded.

"Stop ripping open already healed scars." She murmured, thumbs gently caressing your skin. "I couldn't have asked for a better person to help us."

"There's people far more approachable than me." The glare you received was downright terrifying, head tilting ever so slightly. "Okay okay, I'm shutting up."

"You're incorrigible. But… I suppose that's part of your charm."

"Suppose?"

"Don't push it, Stark."

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

I may or may not have lost the file where I kept all the users from the taglist, so feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the new one 🙏

[yngtort]

— toothache ❄️

♫ All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth ♫

kinkmas day 1

Fem!reader. mdni. 2.9kw. in which doctor bangchan fills your cavities and the entirety of your mouth.

It hurt like hell.

Exposed to the cold early morning air of the winter, your teeth ache in your mouth. The pain was so aggravating that it had you zooming through the icy roads, trying to get to the dentist as soon as possible.

You had a cavity.

It was obvious, but it still caught you off guard. You genuinely always took good care of your teeth. You brushed, flossed, washed, and even went the extra mile to buy that expensive LED teeth whitening thing from TikTok.

Your hygiene was top tier.

but you’re still pulling into the parking lot of diamond dental with your hand glued to the side of your face.

“Seungmin, I’m freaking the fuck out.” You mumbled into the phone as you hop out of your Nissan, locking it multiple times because you're that kind of person.

The type to worry over little things like a stolen car and dying in a dentist chair.

“It’s not that bad, y/n. You won’t even feel anything.” Your coworker, most importantly your best friend, tells you from the other end.

“You’re acting like you’ve never been to the dentist before.”

He’s right, you have been there— but just to get your teeth brushed a couple times and handed a sticker right after. Not, to be stabbed in the mouth with a needle.

“It’s just been a while and you know how I feel about people’s hands in my mouth.”

“I don’t like the way you worded that.” He faked gagged, “anyways, call me when you’re done, Kay?”

“Kay.” you replied, slightly disappointed as he hung up the phone. Leaving you to walk the path of shame into the dentist office alone.

-

After filling out an extensive amount of paperwork, anxiously shaking your leg for an hour, and losing a mean game of virtual uno— your name was finally called.

You were led to the back by a small lady whose steps were short but impactful. She was so fast, you couldn’t tell if you were a patient or a Maury cameraman.

“Go on in,” she gestured towards the basic oral operation room. You take a seat, awkwardly deciding to put your hands on your stomach.

fuck you’re scared shitless, and the woman seems to notice your discomfort as she tries to distract you with a small conversation. But your eyes are still trained on whatever the fuck she’s putting together.

You inadvertently move away as she holds a silicone piece to your lips, “open as wide as you can,” she instructed.

Gosh, this was embarrassing. You were almost considering letting your teeth rot. But no, that’s gross.

Once the what-ever-it’s-called is placed in your mouth, she brings over another contraption. You assume it’s just a glorified camera, which was correct.

after a few pictures of your teeth, which kinda hurt btw, the woman inspected the photo. “Looks like you have a cavity on one of your molars. Other than that, you take pretty good care of your teeth.”

Pretty good? You felt like your efforts deserved higher praise but whatever. She goes on to tell you what needs to be done and how long it will take.

You grimace at the details.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” She told before promptly leaving.

And now you’re left in complete silence. Well, not exactly silence. There was some music playing in the back, falling in melody with the constant sound of mechanical wiring from people in the rooms over— probably getting the same procedure. It sounded like someone was dying in there, seriously.

Anxiety filled you to the brim as you considered darting out that room right that second.

But just as you’re about to swing yourself out of your seat, there’s a voice that enters the room.

“Hello, ms.y/n . I’m dr.bang, I’ll be taking care of you for the day.” The doctor says as he steps in-front of you and suddenly you don’t want to move from that seat anytime soon.

He’s an undeniable hottie, even in those generic dentist scrubs that everyone in the faculty sported. For some reason, he just sparkled in them. Maybe it was because of the bulging muscles and his tan skin— whatever it was, your mouth was watering.

“Hello,” you said rather dryly, still locked on the vain that ran down his toned arm.

The doctor gives you a smile, a bright one too, and pulls a seat next to yours. “I hear you have a cavity. Mind if i have a look?” He asks as if you really have a choice. like he’s not already lowering the back of your chair so he can get a good look at your pearly whites.

He goes in with a tiny mirror, holding your chin with his free hand as he inspects the cavity. “You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, hmm?” he asked, thumb gliding over your bottom lip.“suckers, perhaps?”

Damn, he called you out.

Now this may sound a little weird, but you’ve always had quite the addiction to lollipops — suckers, the tootsie pop ones specifically. it’s even gotten to the point where you have a jar of them waiting at home on your nightstand.

And it’s not even the flavor of candy itself, you just…like putting things in your mouth?

Moving on !

Dr.bang finally moves back, releasing your jaw that was just starting to hurt. “It's only a small cavity. just need to fill it in for ya and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Honestly, with a face like his, he could play in your hair for as long as he wanted to. Give it a few tugs while he’s at it.

“Okay, but um..” you gulp a bit, toying with the end of your jacket. “Are you gonna give me a shot? My mouth is a bit sensitive, and I was wondering if there were any other alternatives.”

The doctor chuckled softly hearing your concerns. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard something like this.

“Unfortunately, the numbing gel that we use wouldn’t be as effective for this procedure.” He said before placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner. “But I promise it’ll only hurt for a second. I’m sure you can take it, yeah?”

take what? him ? Or the damn needle?

You have no clue, but if he’s gonna talk to you like that, you feel like you could break through a wall if you put your mind to it.

The dirty thoughts don’t get any better throughout the rest of your time in that damn chair either. Dr.bang had quite the mouth on him.

“Open up for me” “atta girl.” “That’s it, just a bit more”, he would say this while fingers were damn there down your throat.

A bit of an overstatement, he’s drilling your teeth, but you wish was drilling his dick—

“All done.”

The back of your chair is lifted up and you try not to let your body slump over. You’ve been lying in that spot for about an hour and a half, teeth being tickled, and eyes being blinded by the dingy light above your head.

And yet, you don’t want to go home.

“Does everything feel okay, ms.y/n? Nothing bothering you?” he asks, removing his glasses and placing them in his —soft— hair.

You shake your head, “nope, just can’t feel my tongue.” You say, poking the side of your face, testing how much force it will take for you to actually start feeling it.

The doctor laughs at your comment, dimples on full display. “The numbness should wear off in a hour or so. Just try not to eat, don’t want you biting your tongue off.”

“Has that actually happened?” You asked, wide eyed and Mr.bang only laughed again.

“On occasion.” He told, “But you’re a smart girl, so I know you won’t disobey doctors orders.”

Does he get paid to talk like that? Or is he just written by a woman with daddy issues?

Both probably.

“Speaking of doctor orders, try to lay off the sugar, yeah? I’m sure you don’t want to see too much of me after today.”

—

“That was obviously an opening for you to flirt with him.” Seungmin scoffs as he closes the register.

You’re at your job, a small candy parlor called sweethearts, talking to your dear coworker about what transpired earlier that day. You didn’t spare him from the dirty laundry that harvested in your mind while you were getting the fill in. Seungmin doesn’t care tho, he’s not judgmental.

That, and you’re his only source of entertainment as the slow part of your shift comes around.

“Flirt? With the dentist? Isn’t there like a rule against that?” You asked, shifting the cherry flavored sucker in your mouth over to the other side of your cheek.

“For him, yeah” Seungmin shrugged, “but I doubt that anyone actually cares nowadays.”

“He’s probably in a relationship.” You popped the candy out your mouth, lips stained in a pretty red. “He’s too fine not to be.”

“And? ” he crossed his arms.

You blink at him a couple times, “I’m not fucking a taken man.”

“Loser.”

“You’re so-“ you sigh. “Whatever, just go restock something.” You push him from behind the counter.

The next few hours seemed to fade into each other as you stood absentmindedly behind the register. Seungmin had already clocked out since he got lucky and was offered a short shift for today. now you’re slouching at the register— phone in hand, while sucking on another tootsie pop.

“Just can’t stay away from those things, huh?” The voice grabs your attention with a force of seven suns.

you know that thick accent too well.

It had replayed in your head for the entirety of the day after your first encounter.

“D-Dr. bang?” you stutter, eyes round as you take in the man in front of you as he sets down a heart shaped box of chocolates.

“Chris.” he corrects, “I don’t like being called doctor outside the clinic. Makes me sound old.”

It makes him sound hot, in your opinion.

You nod a few times before clearing your throat, reminding yourself that you are on the clock.

”Christmas shopping?” you asked, still mentally going feral as gaze over his stature.

He’s dressed like a chase Atlantic song, how could you not ?

“Yes actually. I was looking for some small sweets to fill up a gift basket.”

“Oh” you perk, scanning the chocolates and placing them in a bag. “for your girlfriend?”

“No, don’t have one.” He says with a shrug, “it’s for my mom.”

A mamas boy ! Woo !

a spark of relief shoots through your body as you hear his words. You won’t have to be a homewrecker after all. Not saying that you were planning to but,, it’s just good to know.

“$6.58.” You tell and Chris follows through with the transaction. his hands brushes against yours as you pass the bag to him and you can’t help but blush like a schoolgirl.

“What about you?”

You blink, “what about me?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Is he showing interest too? Is that what this was?

“No, but I dont think these are the kind of questions doctors are supposed to ask.” you say teasingly.

“I’m just trying to get to know my patient better.”

“Uh huh, sure.” you raise an eyebrow, “got anything else you wanna ask?”

Chris crossed his arms, eyes flickering down to the stick that laid between your plump lips. The Candy was completely gone, leaving behind a blue hue on your mouth.

“Your obsession with suckers might’ve peaked my interest.” He told, “do they taste that good that you have to go against my orders?”

That's a really good question. it’s not the first time you’ve heard it, but it stumps you every time. You’re actually a savory kind of girl, like if you had to choose between pie or chips— you’re grabbing the saltiest bag you can find.

But it’s like all your life, you were always sucking on something. Your thumb, jawbreakers, ring pops— anything really.

“I don’t exactly know.” You start, thinking about how to word this. “It’s not exactly the taste…I just kind of like putting things in my mouth?”

Every part of you was expecting to be laughed at, but when not a chuckle left the man’s lips you were just confused.

“So you have an oral fixation?” He asks

“There’s a name for it?” “There’s a name for everything, love.”

“And how do you know all of this?” You push and Chris clicks his tongue.

“I’m a dentist, remember?” Chris takes a step closer, leaning against the counter. “I also know how to satisfy that urge you’ve been feeling.”

Oh.

—

you don’t remember how you ended up like this. pressed against the break room door, tongue tangled with a man you just met.

It’s a crazy situation, but honestly it’s not the wildest thing you’ve done.

your melting into his hold, kiss making you dizzy as if his saliva was laced with some kind of drug. it was absolutely intoxicating, the way his tongue explored every part of your mouth with no restraint.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet.” He mumbled against your lips.

Chris’s hands roam under your shirt. his cold palms against your warm skin sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps follow behind him with every contact as he massages and squeezes your curves.

He pulls back from the kiss and you couldn’t help but whine at the sudden detachment. You try to get him back, but his hand grabs your jaw.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I got something to fill that dirty mouth of yours.” He coaxes, thumb brushing your swollen lips. “On your knees.”

You take to the floor with no questions asked, eyes coming in direct contact with his bulge and you can’t help but wonder that would even fit in your mouth.

But you won’t back down from the challenge. Your hands almost beggingly climb up his thighs as you look up at him, silently asking for permission.

“If there’s something you want, say it.” Chris tells, head tilted to the side in such an attractive way.

You lean your face up against his leg, “can I put it in my mouth?”

The older grins, “Of course, baby.” He says before unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor.

You gulp at how thick his thighs are. Just imagine riding them, wetness dripping all over his skin.

And that’s not even the main event.

his boxers were wrapped so tightly around his dick, each inch was on display and it had your mouth watering. you wasted no time pulling them down, watching it pop up as it’s freed.

“ So big.” You whispered in awe before taking the base into your hands and guiding it to your lips.

“open up for me, love” Chris instructed and you do as told, parting your lips and taking him into your mouth.

the man above lets out a low groan as he's stuffed down your throat. He’s a little surprised at how easily you're handling his girth, lips wrapped around him so snuggly without a single gag.

“Just like that, good girl,” he praises as you suck him like a lollipop. “taking it so well.”

Your head bobbed at a generous rate, hands gripped onto his thighs while you slobbered over his dick. It was such a lewd scene to witness. only worsening when Chris grabs you by your hair, stopping your movements before he takes full control.

his hips reel away before slamming back into your face, fucking your mouth roughly. you whimpered as the head of his dick jabbed the back of your throat repeatedly.

Tears started to well up in your eyes from the harshness of his thrusts. Your throat was rubbed raw and there was an extreme ache in your jaw, but you can’t help being more aroused by the pain. The feeling of being tortured orally had your panties soaked.

So it’s only natural that one of your hands was tucked between your thighs, kneading your clothed clit between your fingers.

“Pretty lil mouth must feel so good finally being used, yea? been practicing on those stupid suckers just for this?” Chris asks cockily, knowing he’d never receive an answer.

He fucks you until his dick is twichting uncontrollably on your tounge, ready to release his thick seed down your throat. But before he even gives you the satisfaction, he yanks back, dick leaving your mouth with a pop.

He decided he’d rather see his cum painting your face than having it disappear without a trace. So he pumps himself in sync with your fingers that were still buried in your pants.

It’s only a matter of seconds before his white ropes drench your face— tongue, lips, lashes— all covered in his mess.

“Fuck” he curses and says something else, but you can comprehend. You're too deep in a daze.

“Y/n.” He calls and calls and calls and calls—

until suddenly his voice loses that thick Aussie accent and instead starts sounding more like your coworker.

“Yo, y/n? I'm gonna clock out soon.” Seungmin says waving his hands in front of your face, “your break was over 30 minutes ago.”

“W-what the fuck???” You blink, still confused and the male just sighs.

“You and your daydreams, man.”

:)

Kinkmas has finally started ! hope you guys enjoyed day 1. I had to quickly cut it short because I type too much and I definitely wouldn’t make the deadline if I continued. That being said, if you would like me to continue toothache as a series just let me know !

— sincerely nni

Tinytag list (open) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @foxinnie8 @panjakes

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hello can I please request a scenario where the reader messes with the character by saying “I like you too” instead of “I love you too” with Hu Tao, Furina, UMP45, STAR 15 and Makoto from Persona?? Thank you!!

(Genshin Impact/GFL/Persona 5)

Hu Tao, Furina, Shenhe, UMP45, ST AR-15, and Makoto's S/O messing with them

Adding in Shenhe because I felt like writing her! (As per usual)

Hu Tao has to take a second to register what S/O had replied with.

"I like you, too"?

Hu Tao halts before her foot is out the door, turning around with a smirk and eyebrow raised.

(Hu Tao) "Oh? We're being like that today are we?"

(S/O) "Like what?"

Hu Tao taps her finger on their nose as she crosses her arms, smiling.

(Hu Tao) "I'm not leaving until you say it properly!"

(S/O) "Psh, no you won't."

(Hu Tao) "Unlike you, I don't need to be physically present at my job today, so I absolutely can!"

S/O had to relent after that. Because she was right, she would prevent S/O from leaving.

And even if they managed to get away, the prank Hu Tao would play as retaliation would probably not be worth it.

Furina pouts when S/O didn't even say "I love you back". The audacity!

Her hands move to her waist, giving a harsh glare to S/O.

Well, as harsh of a glare as Furina can manage. If anything, it makes her look adorable.

(Furina) "You don't even want to say it back to me, your girlfriend?! Oh, you wound my heart!"

S/O chuckled at her dramatic response.

(S/O) "As if you didn't do this very thing to me last week!"

(Furina) "Hmph! Fine, be that way, for I will not declare my love for you if this is the response I should expect!"

She tilts her head away and begins marching away from the door, still pouting.

It was obvious she wasn't genuinely offended, but two could play at this game!

She could actually keep this bit up for weeks, if prompted.

S/O does not, lest they incur her verbal wrath for the next month or so and demanding a ransom of sweets.

Shenhe stoically turns to S/O, noticing their lips were trying their best not to break into a full smile.

(Shenhe) "...S/O, did I do something wrong?"

They shook their heads and covered their laughter with one hand.

(S/O) "Sorry, I couldn't resist teasing, Shenhe. I just wanted to see your reaction."

Shenhe blinks and tilts her head in confusion.

(Shenhe) "What do you mean? All you said was that you liked me."

(S/O) "Oh, that's what you're referring to. I figured you were going to ask me why I said 'I like you' instead I love you."

(Shenhe) "That goes without saying, does it not? For us, it means the same thing."

S/O chuckled and couldn't disagree with that logic.

(S/O) "Got me there."

Shenhe, for her part, was still very confused.

What was the joke?

45 frowns before she turns back to S/O, adjusting the hair out her face.

(UMP45) "Wow, so that's what I get after opening my heart to you?"

Those words were rarely said by 45, even less so when she was about to depart for an operation.

She looked genuinely hurt, which made S/O rush up to try to ease her anger.

(S/O) "S-Sorry! It was just a joke-"

They were interrupted when 45 broke into a smirk and cut them off with a kiss.

(UMP45) "Mhm, and so was that. Now, say it properly this time, would you?"

Both of them chuckled lightly before S/O gave the correct reply.

(S/O) "I love you, too."

(UMP45) "Not so hard, was it?

STAR pouts when she hears S/O's response, making her face them.

STAR had a hard time saying it without blushing madly, and this time was no exception.

So to get that in response?

(ST AR-15) "Hey, that's not funny!"

S/O barely held back their amusement, making STAR's annoyance grow.

STAR flicks their forehead gently, taking care to not put too much of her T-Doll strength into it.

(ST AR-15) "S-Say it, already!"

With a tight hug around her, S/O gives in, but still laughing.

(S/O) "Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist. Love you too, STAR."

(ST AR-15) "Good..."

She squeezes them back before leaving the room.

Makoto hesitates on departing, taking in what S/O had replied with.

(Makoto) "Like me?"

(S/O) "It's what I said!"

Makoto looks a bit disheartened at the response.

(Makoto) "I see..."

Before her mind could wander, it was brought back to S/O when she heard them chuckle.

(S/O) "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad! I just wanted to tease you."

Makoto's blush crept up on her cheeks for a brief moment before she cleared her throat.

(Makoto) "Ah, my apologies. I suppose I'm still getting used to this kind of banter in a relationship-"

S/O cut her off by giving her a kiss on the cheek, making her face burn red for a different reason.

(S/O) "Don't apologize. You're cute when you blush."

Makoto stammers over her words before simply sighing and smiling back.

(Makoto) "I'll just take the compliment...Next time, I should play a joke like that on you."

Which would be easy, if she had a sense of humor.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Opla!sanji and a siren/mermaid???

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hi anon ! Thank you for your request, as a big fan or mermaid/siren I was so thrill by the idea ! I had tried many things here and I hope you will like it !

The Mermaid Dream

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

---

The notorious floating restaurant The Baratie was, like every other night, completely full. At every table of the large dining room were sat the most famous and wanted Pirates. Adding to the hubbub of their conversation and squeaking of their utensils against their plates, the waiters, in a urge to offer the perfect service and then earn their tips, looked like a swarm of bees dancing around elegant honeycombs. 

The kitchen wasn't any more quiet. In every corner or the overheated room, the crew of cooks was running to prepare the many dishes ordered. Only stopping a millisecond to put the plates under the warming light and watch with nervous eyes if Zeff, the renowned chef and owner of the place, was preparing himself to punish somebody, hoping there wasn’t them.

Even the opened mouth of this unusual boat establishment, occupied by a respectable bar, was crowded and noisy. 

Nervously standing behind the luxurious burgundy velvet curtain, your palm sweaty, you briefly closed your eyes, trying to hear the sound of the wave crashing against the ship hull. It wasn't the first time you were performing for the Baratie. But, you knew that each time was risky. The mermaid folks weren’t still welcome everywhere, most of the population were scared of being bewitched by your voices and the others had used your people to commit crimes and atrocities.

It was why you always wore a long gown covering your temporary legs and politely declined any trace of liquid they would offer you. It only takes a drop of water or a stubborn scale and your life would be in immediate danger. Of course Zeff was aware of what you are and would never let nothing happen to you. But, you couldn’t only count on him to protect you, you had to be cautious.

“ Miss Y/N it’s time, everythings is okay ?“ A polite waiter asked you, the golden cord in his hand,ready to unveil you to the loaded room. Nodding of your head, opening your eyes, you let the noise of the water calm your last knocked nerve before lifting your head to face your public.

The first note of your song, played by the musicians behind you, starts to fill the now quiet hall. It was mostly for you a faceless audience, only a few were really counting : like his. 

Still dressed in his cook uniform, his back against the wall, arm crossed against his chest, Sanji was smiling, waiting for you to operate your tour de force. As you know, the blond sous chef had, so far, never missed one of your performances, even if it had meant being punished by his mentor.

Signing your song, your voice flowing like the water of a peaceful river to finish in a waterfall. You open your eyes under a thunder of applause. Still in his corner, Sanji was clapping his hand with fervor, his face radiant of joy like if he had just discovered a new method of cooking. 

Later that night, as you emerged yourself in the oversize bathtub of your personal dressing room, your fins resting on the copper border and the last scales on your breast taking his place. You smiled. You knew that you shouldn’t think of him, loving a human when you couldn’t keep a pair of legs longer than a few hours was ridiculous. However, you couldn’t stop yourself. Aside from Zeff, he was the only one knowing your secret and never made you feel uncomfortable about it.

Three knocks at the door extracted you from your thoughts followed by the sound of the key in the keyhole. You aren’t kept captive in the Baratie, but for your safety, Zeff had a long time ago asked you to lock the door, preventing anyone to simply walk on you as you were unable to freely move, stuck like a fish in a tank. Usually, your only visitor at these hours was the old chef coming to thank you for the show and often tell you stories about his time of piracy. 

But, it was Sanji who entered the room, this time dressed in a navy suit, a tray in his hand. 

“ Good evening Madam, I thought you should be famished after such an enchanting show “

“ I’m not really a Madam you know Sanji “ You smiled, amused even if the fact that you truly aren’t a human woman stung your heart a little.” I’m indeed hungry, thank you”  

“ Nonsense. You are more a lady than many that I had served in this crappy restaurant “ He replied, approaching the coffee table of the bath to put your plate and silverwares as he pulled himself a chair '' Salmon with his creamy lemon sauce, I prepared it myself with caution. “ 

“ It smells fantastique “ You smiled, lifting your upper body enough to be able to eat. “ Hmm, that's delicious, I truly had nothing like this in the whole sea” 

Here again, that proud smile was plastered on his face, making you regret your own nature as he looked at you eating his own kind of tour de force. The vicious cramps traveling your fins,was another. Trying to keep your expression blank, you couldn’t sadly stop the moan of pain you let escape after a particular strong one. 

“ What happened Miss Y/N, something wrong ?!” A concerned Sanji asked, his hand cripping the side of the tube, ready to take action and extract you of the water if needed. 

“ It's nothing, the side effect of being too long on two legs instead of…fins.” You confessed, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “ It takes me a lot of energy and control to keep the form of my legs, i’m just exhausted, it will be over  when I will leave after the closing of the restaurant” You reassured him, touched by his worried tone. 

“ I see, then why are you pushing yourself to do those shows if it’s hurt you afterward ? Does Zeff know ? “ 

Eating your dinner, you slowly nod of the head, remembering the first time the old man discovered you crying of pain in the tube. He had at first, like Sanji, been worried,but, hearring you out he had finally accepted the fact that he couldn’t make you change your mind.  

“ It’s worth it. For the moment I can’t, people aren’t ready yet, but one day, I want to sit on this stage in this form. I want people to know that they don’t have to be afraid of us. We can sing without bewitching them, we don’t chase them if they fall in the water. when we shed tears, it’s from pain, not to make a profit of their medicinal effect. That’s my dream, that one day I will be able to show people that we are good, not monsters. “

“ It’s an admirable dream “ Sanji smiled, a tenderness in his eyes.” If somebody is capable of such a thing it’s you.  After all you didn’t have to talk or sing, I had been spellbound the minute I saw you and I'm sure that the audience could say the same. “

Looking at his sincere face, you felt the warm sensation of hope blooming in your scaly chest. 

“ I would never use my magic on you, you know Sanji aren’t you ? “ You replied, wishing you had not misunderstood his words. 

“ I know, Madam. The things I feel every time I'm near you aren't an illusion, no lies could be that strong…” 

Your heart racing like if you were hunted by a shark, you gently placed your hand on his, tangling them affectionately. 

“ Sanji, would you walk me to the deck tonight…” You demanded. The walk, situated at the tail of the building, wasn’t very long, but it would let you spend a lot of time in his company before having to go back in the water. 

“As you wish Y/N “ He promised, watching your tangled hand. “ I should go, the restaurant will close soon and the old man will probably look out for me.”

“ See you later, I will wait for you outside, near your usual smoking place” You confirm, gripping the side of the tub in excitement. 

“ I will be there, see you later “ He replied before going out, leaving you alone to realize what just happened.

--

The half moon was high when Sanji got out of the closed Baratie.Without realizing it, he had replayed in his head every of your smile and phrases during your conversation, still amazed that you returned his affection.  But as he arrived at the meeting spot, his heart missed a beat. 

A hand against your mouth, flanked by two customers previously kicked out, you were fighting for your life, your fragile leg giving up under you as you tried to get yourself free.

“ Let her go now” He ordered, rage filling his veins. How could they dare touch your perfection and try to steal you from him.

“ Mate, go back inside mind your own business !” One of the pirates replied, trying to move you.  

“ I say, let her go. “ Sanji repeated, taking his fighting stance. The men were larger and heavier than him, but with his training and under your terrified gaze, he couldn’t lose. 

It didn’t take long to put them down. Sadly, you join them when your knees buckle due to the loss of energy. 

“ Y/N are you okay ? “ The blond jumped, catching you.

“ Yes I…need the water...I…I’m sorry” You said, tears filling your eyes. “ They said somebody saw me coming out of the water, they were waiting for me, Sanji…I can’t sing here anymore…” 

“ I will inform the old man, he will find the person and you will be able to sing here as long as you want.” He promised, caressing the side of your face. “ Let me put you in the water, your skin is cold and you shake of exhaustion  “ 

“ No wait I wanted...I wanted to…never mind” You said, avoiding his gaze as your legs disappeared. 

“ What ? Tell me  “ He insisted. 

“ I wanted to kiss you…during the time I have legs…like a normal girl but…they're gone…I’m sorry it’s stupid.”  You sigh, embarrassed. 

“ A normal girl…Madam, don’t lower yourself to that, you’re fantastic as you are and I would never want anything else. Now if you let me “ He reassured you, lifting you in his arms in a bridal style before gently putting his lips against yours.  

Kissing him was like breathing underwater :soft,warm and perfect. As he gently retreated his mouth, you could still see that something was in this thought. 

“ You can sing here as much as you want but…I think I have a proposition for you. Yesterday a guy offered me a place in his crew, the Old man pushed me to go for it…find the All blue.  Please, come with me…You could show people like you wanted that you not what they thought, I will protect you and these crew seem really good” 

The offer takes you by surprise, you never could imagine The Baratie without him. In fact, you couldn’t imagine yourself singing there anymore if he wasn’t even there to watch you perform, nor could you think of your life without him in it. 

“ Okay, if they accept me I will follow you” 

—

The straw hat crew didn’t just accept you, you became a member of the group. 

Swimming  along the boat, signaling at Sanji to be ready,you take some speed and jump grabbing the dangling rope, letting you perform Luffy's favorite number : The flying mermaid.

Helped by your previous momentum, you rise above the lower deck and fall in the arm of Sanji, always waiting to catch his precious mermaid.

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Thank You, Doctor (Miguel O’Hara - Part 1/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Description: After being snagged from your own universe and put to work in the med bay in the midst of spider society, you catch the notice of one Miguel O’Hara.

Warnings: blood, probably language, ignoring the ATSV worldbuilding for the sake of my silly little plot

A/N: Are there plot holes? Yes. Do I care? Yes, so please don’t bring them up, I might cry. There’s an occasional Spanish interjection from Miguel, but I am not at all a fluent Spanish speaker, so feel free to correct me on anything if so inclined! Translations are at the end. Also, it includes a roundabout ode to my dearest love, Oscar Isaac. If you know, you know.

🕷

Not every anomaly was kept in a cage. Some, like yourself, had made use of your idle hands, hands that for one reason or another, could never again touch your own universe. It had taken some convincing, but after Lyla had heard enough of your requests from the neon red confines of your prison and carried them to whatever faceless spider person led this operation, you’d been let out. Your cage hadn’t disappeared per se, but it had widened a little. If your return to your own reality would cause its inevitable collapse—as you had repeatedly assured it would—then this was more than you could ask.

You made use of your figuratively-shackled hands in the med bay. You’d been a medical student when you’d been stolen from your universe, and you knew enough to patch up the wounds that came through your work station with ease most of the time—sometimes, after skimming a medical textbook and winging it. So far, no one had died on your watch, and you called that a success.

But your confidence, it seemed, may have been overinflated.

When a group of spiders rushed into the med bay with a large, tattered body strung between them, you felt profoundly out of your depth for the first time. But they couldn’t know that, lest you ended up caged once again.

“Put him on the bed,” you instructed. “Stomach down.” They heaved the body onto the bed, and you could make out the navy and red lines of a shredded suit, as well as a mess of brown hair, matted with blood you were hoping wasn’t his own. “Do you know exactly where he’s wounded?” you asked, running hands over the expanses of skin you could see, trying to make out where the various bloodstains were coming from.

“He was sliced along the back,” answered a breathless spider. “Stabbed twice in the abdomen as well.”

“Help me turn him on his side,” you said, to no one in particular, but there were suddenly several sets of hands helping you turn the man over. “You,” you continued, nodding to the spider standing across from you. “Grab a towel and keep pressure on the wounds on his abdomen.”

You conducted as thorough an examination as you could with your heart fluttering like a hummingbird in your throat, so many eyes trained on your shaking hands. The man had a few other shallow cuts and bruises, but as the spider had said—the biggest concerns were the slice along his back and the two stab wounds in his stomach.

Several of the spiders lingered as you worked, offering tools and towels and anything you needed to speed up the process. And then, in a half hour that felt like a handful of seconds, your work was done. If you had been asked to recount your actions movement for movement, you’d only be able to offer up a breathless blur of adrenaline and then the sudden empty stillness in the room after you'd managed to stabilize him. 

He was laid face up on a bed, covered by a blanket since you’d had to cut portions of his suit off of him. He couldn’t quite put a pin on his age, but he was handsome. You’d done your best to wash the blood out of his hair, and it fell in half-dry curls over his forehead. The angles of his face were severe, but they were soft, even kind somehow. At least in his sleep.

And then, to your great misfortune, he woke up.

At first it was a fluttering of eyelids, and you stood sharply from your chair, trying to look busy, as if you hadn’t just been sitting there staring at him. And then it was a few quiet groans as he tried to readjust himself. 

“Don’t sit up,” you said at the sight of him trying to push himself into a seated position. “You’ll rip out your stitches.”

He just blinked at you. “Who are you?”

“The person who saved your life,” you said, bristled by the gruff, mumbled annoyance in his tone.

He shook his head. “I have enhanced healing, I don’t need anyone to—” He was cut off by his own sharp gasp as he tried to haul himself off the bed. He went still and then avoided your eyes as he slowly lowered himself back down onto the mattress.

“You were saying?” you said, a smile curling your lips. You turned to the counter behind you, pulling a roll of gauze and medical tape from one of the cabinets. “You had a severe laceration on your back. You’re lucky it missed your spinal cord.” You turned towards him, gauze in hand, as you sat and scooted your stool towards the edge of your bed. “And that’s not even mentioning the two stab wounds.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, scooting away at your sudden closeness. 

“Your stab wounds were still bleeding when I finished, so the gauze likely needs changed,” you said. He lifted the blanket from his torso, peeling aside what was left of his suit to find two bandaged wounds, with—as you’d predicted—red-drenched gauze. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t protest as you reached out and began to peel back the tape. After a minute or so of quietly working, he finally spoke again.

“You’re human,” he said.

You smiled down at his abdomen, not pausing your work. “Are enhanced deduction skills part of the wide cache of spider abilities? Because you are remarkably observant.”

You could feel his eyes on your profile, but you didn’t turn to face him, not even when he quietly finished his thought. “You’re the anomaly.”

“I was under the impression there were more than one,” you said, pressing down the last stretch of tape and pulling the blankets back over him.

“You’re the anomaly I let out,” he clarified.

“Ah,” you said, standing and walking to the sink to wash your hands. “So you must be the big man in charge. The one who ordered me to be stolen from my bed.”

“There is much more—”

“I know,” you said, turning back towards him, hands braced behind you on the counter. “It has been explained to me plenty. My father was from another dimension and never should have jumped into mine and knocked up my mom, and I never should have been born.” He watched you as you spoke, scanning your face for any sort of malice, but you merely shrugged. “Wish I could have told my mom that’s why he flaked.”

“You’re not upset?” he asked.

“And who would I be upset at besides him? You?”

The man simply blinked at you, hand mindlessly reaching to brush his abdomen, the expanse of skin you’d just bandaged. The carefully stitched wounds answered the question of any lingering resentment towards your captors.

“It would be natural to hate—your circumstances,” he said eventually.

You turned back towards the counter, quietly putting away your supplies. “You should rest until the end of the week.”

“That’s not—”

“In bed for the next two days, and no missions until the stitches come out.”

“But I have en—”

“Enhanced healing. Believe me, I’ve heard it a thousand times,” you said, finally tuning to face him. “But like it or not, you’re still just as human as I am.”

“I’m only half as human as you are,” he said, and it was the clearest he’d spoken since he’d woken up. At the slight flash of fangs with the lift of his lips, you understood why.

🕷

The next morning, you found him fast asleep where you’d left him. It was more instinct than choice, your gut churning with curiosity, that led you to slowly reach out your hand and pull up the right side of his lip, confirming you hadn’t in fact been hallucinating. He had fangs. Before you could pull away, his hand shot up and caged your wrist before his face as his eyes waned open.

“I have to ask,” you started.

“No, I’m not a vampire,” he said, keeping your wrist in his grip, his voice deadpan, as if he’d answered this question a million times before.

“What are you then?” you asked, pulling your hand from his.

“Half spider.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “A spider bite made you half spider?” you asked, but he simply stared. You could tell by the low drop of his brow that he’d already told you more than he would have liked, so you simply turned away, prepping your space for whatever spiders might come through your station that day.

It turned out to be a slow day. Only two spiders came through, both needing minimal attention, and you sent them on their way about as quickly as they’d turned up. And the whole time, you felt a set of red, half-lidded eyes watching you. You would occasionally slip over to his bed to redress his wounds, answering negative to his questions of leaving. “Bed rest until the end of the day,” you said after the second spider had left. “And then I’ll fit you with some crutches and help you to your room.”

“I don’t need crutches.”

“What you don’t need is that attitude,” you said, lifting your eyes to his. “Or else I’ll send you home without a sucker.”

He tilted his head, entertaining your humor but never cracking a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n. Y/l/n.”

He blinked at you as if he was familiar with the name, but all he said was, “Not Doctor Y/n Y/l/n?”

You clicked your tongue. “I was two years from being Dr. Y/l/n.”

He nodded down at his bandaged abdomen. “You seem like a doctor to me.”

“And you don’t seem half spider,” you said. “Appearances can be deceiving, Mister…”

“O’Hara. Miguel O’Hara.”

You nodded and turned back towards your station, beginning to slowly clean up for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he said, making you go still. “That you can’t be in your own universe.”

You turned back to look at him, offering a wry tilt of your lips. Not quite a smile. “That’s alright. I imagine you're similarly displaced for the sake of your noble mission. You just had the luxury of choice.”

“Would you have chosen to stay?” he asked, a sudden sharpness in his voice that made his fangs flash from behind his lips. “Knowing your universe was collapsing?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said, eyes narrowing at the sudden malice. You turned back towards your station, tucking supplies back into cabinets. “I guess I should thank you for letting me work in the med bay. I was losing my mind in that cell.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” he said. “Just makes me feel worse.”

You turned back towards him with a smile and a sucker held between your fingers. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

🕷

An hour or so later, when a spider with basic first aid training—a.k.a. the only kind of medic they’d had before you—came to relieve your shift, you helped Miguel out of bed and onto a set of crutches, carrying an armful of medical supplies behind him as he trudged to his room. If people stared at the sight of him limping, sucker in his mouth, they received a look from the man. You couldn’t see said look from behind him, but you could see the way it had people turning—occasionally running—away. 

Once you got to his room, he seemed annoyed at the way you slipped in behind him, but he said nothing as you laid out medical supplies on his nightstand. 

“You’ll want one of these in the morning and one with dinner for the pain,” you said, jingling the orange bottle you set down.

“Don’t need it,” he gruffed out.

“Alright, well then I imagine you don’t need help getting into bed,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He leaned the crutches against the wall. “Now you’re catching on.”

You gestured to the bed beside you, stepping away so he had enough room to climb up onto it. It was slow, sliced up by the occasional grunt or half-swallowed gasp of pain, but he got up there, tugging the covers over himself.

“Bet you’re regretting that decision,” you said, and he only huffed. You took that moment of silence to look around the room. It was all black and gray angles, not a touch of personality anywhere. Not a picture frame or flower vase, no posters or art.

“You know, having some kind of general joy or cheer in your room might speed up your recovery,” you said, walking over to the window to peer out at the street below.

“Now you’re giving interior design advice?” he said, face half buried in the pillow. He was likely still groggy from the pain medicine you’d given him before.

“I’m just saying, maybe try getting a hobby or two,” you said, pulling the curtains on his window closed.

“My hobby is saving the multiverse,” he huffed out. You turned slowly from the window, eyebrows raised as you met his eyes.

“Was that—a joke?”

He huffed, turning over onto his side. “Good night.”

You started towards the door. “Oh, of course, you’re welcome, Mr. O’Hara. I was so happy to patch up your bloody wounds and gently tug you from the precipice of death. Saving such grateful spider people like yourself is truly my calling in life.”

You stopped before the door, hand lingering on the knob as you glanced back at his figure, curled away from you on the bed. He gruffed out something inaudible and you stepped closer.

“What was that?”

“Mujer implacable,¹” he cursed, before turning over just enough to meet your eyes. “Thank you, Doctor. Now get out of my room.”

You smiled and reached for the door. “Good night to you too, Miguel.”

🕷

It was midnight when Miguel woke up again. The dull buzz of the pain meds had worn off, and the sharp ache of his limbs pulled him sharply from sleep. And then, shortly after, the rumbling of his stomach had his feet hitting the floor.

He told himself he’d simply go to the cafeteria and grab something to eat, but it proved to be easier said than done. With a few curses muttered in Spanish, he sunk against the set of crutches you’d provided, letting out a breath at the sudden lack of pressure on his wounds.

When he made it to the cafeteria, he found it not empty, as he had been hoping. A singular figure was sitting in the corner of the room, the tray before her stacked neatly with various food. Of course. Of all the people to witness his shameful hobble into the cafeteria, it had to be you.

You glanced up as he entered, eyes going wide for a moment.

“You look like someone who didn’t take their pain meds,” you said, lips curling into a smile at the grunt he offered in response. You watched him fumbling with a vending machine around the awkward angle of his crutches and stood, crossing the room to come up beside him.

You didn’t wait for him to ask for help, you simply gestured before you, silently asking what he was trying to reach. He stared at you for a moment before nodding towards a pack of flamin’ hot cheetos. You fetched it for him with ease, before carrying it away from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching as you sat back down at your seat and set his cheetos at the spot across from you. You didn’t respond, you simply watched him with raised brows, waiting. Eventually, he grunted out something in Spanish and joined you, grabbing a bottle of water on the way.

“What does mujer implacable mean?” you asked.

“What?”

“That’s what you called me.”

He ripped open his cheetos and sat back in his chair, watching you as he took the first bite. “Relentless woman.”

“Hm,” you said, smiling. He watched as you stood up and grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the counter, eyes narrowing as you sat back down and offered them to him.

“What are those for?”

“They keep you from getting cheeto dust on your fingers,” you said, smile growing as his eyes widened.

“Mujer brillante,²” he breathed, taking the chopsticks and ripping them open. Something adjacent to a pleased smile overtook his features as he sat back, chopsticks in hand. And then he seemed to remember who was talking to, and his smile flattened out.

“Why are you awake?” he asked.

“Oh, I was just crushed by the weight of endless, multiversal knowledge trying to fit within a mind only equipped to handle the existence of one, pondering the meaning of my birth without a clear place in a singular universe and a purpose only carved out by my own inability to accept my multiversal irrelevance.”

He blinked.

“Also, I’m an insomniac,” you said, and he shoveled another cheeto into his mouth. 

“I don’t think anomaly equals irrelevance,” he said, and he wasn’t quite sure if he believed it. You didn’t seem irrelevant though, and he was going off of that.

“Then what does it mean?” you asked, and there was no humor in your voice. No malice either. Just a sharp curiosity.

“It means that the universe is delicately balanced, and you, mujer implacable, are a wrecking ball.”

“So I’m relevant, just not in any of the good ways.”

He shook his head. “In your old life, maybe. But you can be whatever you like here. Relevant. Irrelevant. Whatever suits you.”

“I think I’d like a healthy middle,” you said.

“Midrelevant,” he said, almost smiling.

“Exactly.”

The conversation was sparse as you both ate, but something soft opened up before you within Miguel. You’d already seen him at his weakest, so he had no reason to hide from you. And as you helped him back to his room, he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

🕷

Part 2

(1) “Relentless woman”

(2) “Brilliant woman”

[yelenasdiary]

Hello 👋

I saw your requests say open, but I know you're struggling with motivation to get content out so no worries if you cannot or don't want to fulfill this but I'm having a surgery soon so I'm requesting from some of my friends/fav writers hoping it helps me out in recovery.

Anyway sorry for the rambling lol, here's my idea. I was thinking like something with BuckyNat and R where Reader has to undergo surgery for something (maybe an old injury became too bad to deal with or maybe something happened on a mission that needs attention) and they're super nervous about it and hesitant to agree so Nat and Bucky sit down with them and just offer lots or love and support (even though they're both nervous too cuz that's their girl) so when Rs getting the surgery they're a bit of a mess until they know she's alright and then they help her settle into their room and help care for her as she starts to mend.

If you decide to write it I thank you lots in advance ☺️

Drabble || It's All Gonna Be Okay

Pairing: BuckyNat x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes wrong, you're told you need realignment osteotomy surgery, the idea of it makes you worried and full of nerves in which your partners help you overcome.

Tiny Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Medical talk, she/her pronouns used (I hope that's okay!!), This is not corrected or proof read. | 0.6K

Translations: detka (baby),

AC: I hope your op goes well!! I also hope this helps, sorry I made it a Drabble, I wanted to get this posted asap for you x

Bucky smiled softly at you, "what's on your mind doll?" he asked seeing your mind was a million miles away. Natasha sitting on the right side of your hospital bed, she looked up at the two of you.

"The thought of being put to sleep and some stranger playing around inside my body and touching my bones is freaking me out" you replied honestly. Bucky let out a soft chuckle, "doll, they are professionals" he reminded you.

"Yeah, they're not even thinking about how weird it is that they're touching somebodies bones" Nat pitched in. Sure, they had a point the thought of it was still uncomfortable. "Okay but what if something goes wrong?" you questioned. Nat placed her hand on top of yours, "detka, I promise you nothing is going to happen"

"That's right doll, nothing is going happen to my darling. You'll be in and out in no time and Nat and I will be waiting by your side" Bucky added. You looked over to him on your left side, "do you promise?" you asked.

"Have I ever broken a promise to you before?" he questioned with a soft smile. The support from the two of them did help ease some of your nerves and finally you agreed with your surgeon that you'd have the surgery on the condition that both Nat and Bucky were able to watch from the viewing room. At first your surgeon wasn't onboard with the idea but with a little sweet talking from Bucky and the two of them were sat in the view room watching the surgery unfold from above.

"She'll be okay" Natasha places her hand on Bucky's knee when she noticed the worrying look in his eyes. "I know but still, that's our girl down there, I can't help but worry" he replied. Nat rested her head on Bucky's right shoulder, "I know love, I'm worried too" she admitted.

They watched for what felt like forever until the operation was a success and you were returned to your room when both Nat and Bucky waited patiently for you to wake up, both of them holding your hand. When your eyes finally fluttered open, smiles filled the room. Bucky was relieved and Nat was just happy to see your beautiful eyes once more.

"How are you feeling detka?" Natasha asked, placing a kiss on your temple. "Tired" you replied, struggling to keep your eyes open, the last of the anaesthesia winning the battle making your partners lightly chuckle.

"I'll go get us some dinner, what do you want?" Nat asked Bucky knowing full well he wasn't going to leave your side for a second. "Burgers?" he replied, looking up at Nat as she placed a hand on his left shoulder, "you've got it soldier" Nat said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

----

A few weeks after your operation you started PT. Natasha made her it mission to make sure you had the best physiotherapist in the county, although you told Natasha it wasn't necessary but Bucky was on team Nat and you lost that battle.

Bucky basically waited on you hand and foot, he just wanted to make sure you were okay and in no pain. Night was one your favourite time of day because Natasha would somehow have dinner ready, by somehow you mean you were sure that Wanda cooked and Nat took the credit but you thought it was sweet she wanted to do something nice each night and let it slide.

After dinner, the three of you would snuggle up in bed, carefully of your knee of course but with the two people you love the most beside you, the pain from your knee was the least of your worries.

[directdogman]

Dialtown short story + art piece - Wheels Within Wheels

Finally went through with polishing the short 6 page story about Mingus + God discussing the possibility of restoring Crown’s memory! This scene was devised originally as a potential flashback for the final route, but the flashback scenes were cut because they made the final route feel too narratively disjointed imo. Now you guys get to hear a conversation that you wouldn’t have otherwise!

I’m not the best narrative/descriptive writer in the world (and even then, I’m not 100% happy with it), but hey, at least this way people get something to gawk at :)

STORY START:

Rhythmic mechanical whirs resonated from the complex system of exposed gears on display, their ceaseless revolutions punctuating the resounding silence of a still operating room with a dim, but reliable tick. Wheels within wheels, revolutions within revolutions. After a prolonged, sterile pause, the mayor's alert stare shifted from the head of the centenarian titan lying on the operating table in front of her to meet the rueful gaze of the sole conscious person in her vicinity.

"So?" the mayor asked her guest, her tone firm and imposing, "What do you think?" The man to her left stood with a meek, shiftless posture, discomfort plastered across the face displayed on the CRT screen in the place of an organic face. "Yeah..." the man trailed off, his eyes glancing slowly from the controlled chaos within the patchwork phone to meet the mayor's hungry gaze, "...I don't think there's anything I can do." Pearlescent white fangs materialized as the mayor's maw contorted into a sneer. "You barely LOOKED." the mayor snarled back at the man, prompting the man to lean back slightly, putting distance between himself and the rage bubbling within the mayor. "I took as long as I needed to know I don't have the remotest idea how to fix this." the man replied, his voice almost a murmur. The mayor's eyes fixated on the man's face as she took an imposing step forward.

"So..." the mayor snarled, lowering her head while keeping her gaze fixed, "...You're refusing to try?" Sensing imminent danger, the man held his hands out shakily and uttered his hesitant defense. "N-No, no, it's not-" the man stammered, wringing his hands, "It's not THAT, ma'am, I just... I wouldn't know where to BEGIN, y'know?" The mayor's gaze loosened as she slowly nodded her head in reluctant comprehension. "The way I see it..." the authoritative tabby declared, "...Given Paw-Paw's near-constant lack of lucidity, consistent inability to recognize others, and TOTAL lack of awareness of his surroundings, ANY meaningful change would logically have to be positive, correct?" The hound's eyes shifted towards the floor, unable to meet the mayor's engrossed stare. "I mean… I could blind him, deafen him..." the man muttered back, still staring at the floor, "Hell, I could KILL him. There's... substantial risk with me touching anything in there." The mayor scoffed resentfully at the feeble hesitation exuding from her guest's replies. "No achievement is bereft of risk. I didn't get where I am without taking risks." the mayor affirmed, her tone and posture seeping with grandiosity, "My Paw-Paw didn't get where HE did by shying away from peril." "...Certainly not, ma'am." the man muttered, as his wincing gaze shifted back to the geriatric governor lying on the operating table.

"Y'know, if anything happens to him from me meddling..." the man uttered, his voice almost a whisper now, "You'd hold ME responsible." The mayor rolled her eyes. "So, you're asking me for total impunity before you act, is that it?" the mayor asked, folding her arms impatiently, "You're asking me to promise that I'll spare you should you make an error." "It's not just that, ma'am." the tattered guest replied, as his expression shifted from fearful agitation to an empathetic peer, "Are you willing to throw the dice, knowing it'd likely mean that it'd likely mean losing your Paw-Paw? Have you considered what that could do to you?" For a fraction of a second, the mayor's stare loosened, as her mind visibly considered a possibility too agonizing to contemplate. Within a second, the mayor's face shifted back to its invulnerable and imposing leer.

"Think of how much better off we'd all be if you WERE to restore his memory." the mayor asserted, decisively gripping the man's right arm, "This isn't just about what I want. You'd be saving the whole human race." The man peered down to notice the mayor's claws embedded into his sleeve, causing him to stumble backwards, glancing uncomfortably from the unmoving relic on the table to the bargaining tyrant as he relinquished himself from her grip. "Look, I, uhhh- I wouldn't be the most qualified person to, uhhh-" the man stuttered, his body now trembling slightly, "Maybe you're better off getting a neurosurgeon to take a look at your Paw-Paw." A scoff sounded from the mayor as her expression twisted into an embittered sneer.

"I've HAD scores of neurosurgeons summoned in here from around the COUNTRY." the mayor spat back at her guest, "Not one of them had so much as an INKLING of how to fix my Paw-Paw." The mayor's sneer shifted into a defeated scowl. "Each relented that their skills mainly lie in correcting organic defects, NOT in prying data from fine-tuned machinery." the mayor stated, enthusiasm fading from her voice. "The neurosurgeons recommended I instead get a visitor who repairs swiss clocks for a living to diagnose what's wrong with Paw-Paw's brain." the mayor whispered, her gaze now fixed on the moving parts within her grandfather's head. The stifled ticking from within interrupted the momentary pause. "The clock-mender couldn't make heads nor tails of what he was looking at. Wouldn't touch a thing." the mayor murmured, her gaze still fixed on the relentless mechanisms whirring away, "Said he wasn't comfortable playing God." The man's bewildered gaze then met the mayor's. "So, you thought I'd be up for the task, then?" the vagabond asked.

"I've had dozens upon dozens of experts grace this room, and yet, not ONE of them were qualified enough to fix my Paw-Paw. Who else IS there to ask?" the mayor demanded, folding her arms warily. The man glanced away, clearly unable to answer. "You dare crown yourself a GOD among men, and yet, you shy away from MY challenge?" the mayor spat, "You call yourself a GOD? Prove yourself. Prove yourself to me, NOW." The man placed his right hand on the back of his neck. His face now betrayed him, with bewildered indignance showing at the corners of his mouth. "I have nothing to prove to you. There IS nothing that I can prove to you, ma'am." the man replied calmly, "I never claimed to have the answers. I never claimed to be anything other than a vagrant with life experience."

"So, who are YOU going to pawn this bothersome task onto, then?" the mayor growled, leaning into the dog-faced drifter's space, "Who are YOU going to pass the buck to, huh?" "I'm not passing the buck, ma'am." the man replied, his gaze drifting back over to the mechanical wreck lying in front of him, "I don't think anyone other than your Paw-Paw would know how to fix whatever's wrong." The mayor's expression softened as a new possibility evidently entered her hirsute head. "I see now that fear doesn't effectively motivate you." the mayor crooned, her tone now one of bargaining, "Well, then. Go on. State your demands. What will it take for you to make an earnest attempt to fix my Paw-Paw?" "I'm sorry, but... There's nothing that you can offer me, ma'am." the man replied honestly. Unable to accept this answer, the mayor relented. "Nonsense! There isn't a person on earth who isn't looking for SOMETHING." the mayor affirmed, "So, what is it that you most want? Go on, then. Spit it out." The man took another step back, sensing what was to follow wasn't going to benefit anyone present.

"What will it take for you to care? Hmmm? Countless riches? Societal power, perhaps? The respect of each and every person you see on the street?" the mayor bargained, pacing towards the man, "What do I need to offer you to get you to try something, ANYTHING-" "Ma'am..." the man interrupted meekly, his hushed tone intelligible against the mayor's relentless pleas. "I can give you EVERYTHING you've ever wanted, you know. Whatever life you'd most like to live!" the mayor implored, "I can give you ANYTHING that your heart desires." The man paced backwards, visibly distressed, but the mayor continued. "You may think I only have MY OWN paltry resources to offer you, but no!" the mayor desperately ranted, "Why, after you restore Paw-Paw's memory, I would ensure that he- that he'd know that he has YOU to thank for-" "MINGUS." God boomed, causing everything in the room, save for the conscious duo, to cascade away into darkness, leaving the pair standing together in a vast, unending void. The mayor stood paralyzed, unable to speak, with an expression of trauma plastered across her face.

A stifled silence emanated from the abyss. As the man sheepishly realized what he'd done, he exhaled deeply, and placed his hands over his face, causing the room (and Crown) to phase back into view. An unbearable hush presided over the two.

"I CAN'T fix your Paw-Paw." the man stated, his quivering lips holding back a snarl and flattened hand moving with every stressed word, "I'm SORRY." The mayor's gaze stayed glued to her Paw-Paw, tears now welling in her eyes. "Listen..." the man stated emphatically, compassion leaking through his voice, "Even IF I wanted to-" The man trailed off, realizing he'd almost sorely misspoken. The mayor's gaze slowly drifted back to the vagrant's face, her left brow now raised and her lips curled into a sneer. "I'm.. sorry." the man meekly stated as he glanced away from the mayor's oppressive stare while wringing his hands, "I wish I could take your pain away. But, there's nothing I could show you that wouldn't just hurt you even more." "Useless." the mayor spat at her guest, "You call yourself a God, but you're just a CHARLATAN. Pathetic." He shook his head slightly before a slight grin graced his face. He turned back to face the mayor's feline gaze.

"Y'know..." the man trailed off, unsure of exactly how to broach the thought that had entered his head, "...Might I offer you some advice?" The mayor scoffed with vocal aggrievance. "Why would I want to hear what YOU have to say?" the mayor sneered with bared teeth, "All the years you've spent on this planet and what have you built? That's right. NOTHING. You've achieved NOTHING." The man nodded slowly before replying. "I admit it. The bold rat usually gets the cheese." the man replied, desperately trying not to visibly glance at the incapacitated Crown, "But, the crafty rat watches the bold rat die in the rat trap and gets to return home with a piece of the cheese." The mayor's sneer retracted to a snowl, and her brow raised inquisitively. "Human history is basically just a chronicle of mistakes." the man added, his expression now back to its default vacant grin, "I think it'd be a disservice to your family's good name if whatever eventually snags ended up being something you could've seen coming." "Alright, then." the mayor responded, curious to hear the advice of this hapless immortal, "Out with it, then. Give me your sermon, while we're still young."

"Are you familiar with the Roman emperor, Caligula?" the man asked, with an unassuming smile. Mingus nodded. "Yes, yes, I know my history. Especially the stories of powerful rulers who've come before me." Mingus replied, "Caligula was the mad emperor who promoted a horse and declared war on Neptune and had his soldiers attack the sea." The man beamed with joy. "Wow! You already knew the story I was gonna tell!" he replied with genuine enthusiasm, "You're smart. Maybe I don't need to give you this advice at all." The cat scowled. "If the moral of your story was genuinely going to be 'don't stab water', or 'don't wage war on things that DON'T EXIST'..." the mayor growled, "...I'm going to kill you with my hands." "It... uhhh. It wasn't." the man sheepishly replied, "Although, those aren't bad lessons to learn EITHER, per se." The mayor glanced away, trailing off in thought. "Some sources theorize that Caligula declaring war on Neptune was actually just a pointless task he gave his skittish soldiers after they refused to invade Brittania by sea..." the mayor muttered, "They brought home sea shells as medals. Then, there's those who think the whole story was fabricated by his detractors. Envious peasants love to tell lies about the powerful."

"Trust me, it happened." the man replied, "I was there." The mayor's gaze drifted back towards the man, bewildered. "I think people just like to assume it didn't happen because of how goddamned RIDICULOUS the whole thing was." the man mused, "Don't ask me WHY. I've never been one to see into the head of an autocrat." The man averted his gaze away from the disembodied relic on the table, realizing what he'd just said aloud. He continued. "It genuinely was AS ridiculous as it sounded, y'know. Thousands of armor-clad Italian dudes just... stabbing at the waves." the man stated, his gaze drifting upwards as if vividly recalling the sight. "Heh. I remember turning to this Gallic dude to my left and telling him…" the man grinned nostalgically, "...that I'd be SHOCKED if the sea actually, like, LOST, seein' as the waves outnumbered the soldiers at LEAST five to one." The mayor tapped her heel on the floor impatiently. "Whatever the POINT of this story is..." she growled, "It had better be FAST approaching."

"Look, do I need to spell it out?" the man replied, "The soldiers fought the TIDE." The mayor raised her eyebrow and leaned forward slightly. The man continued. "Hey, I'll be the first to admit: Humanity's got MOXIE, y'know?" the man shrugged,  "We live in an age of space shuttles and, like, five THOUSAND flavours of ice cream, most of which are TERRIBLE. Seriously, who eats ice cream and thinks: "Wow, this flavour is already pretty good, but y'know what it could use? Huh? RAISINS." Now, amirite, or amirite?" The mayor stared back, mouth slightly agape. "Sorry... Went off topic there for a bit." the man sheepishly added, "My point was, when you fight the tides, you make an enemy of the WORLD." "And IF you fight 'til your last breath against the WORLD..." the man continued, "The story can only end two ways. With your destruction, or the whole world's." The mayor's gaze shifted nervously over to her grandfather. "When a large wave comes, would you rather be riding it, or FIGHTING it?" the man asked, causing the mayor to glance back to him.

"You know... There's something to be said for accepting that there's things out there that you CAN'T change." the man replied quietly, a quiet sadness appearing in his eyes, "...In accepting your own powerlessness in things." The mayor scowled. "That's just something that SHEEP tell themselves..." the mayor muttered, "The people whose destinies are controlled solely by people like me... It's just something they tell themselves so they can sleep at night." "There's nothing wrong with being able to sleep at night." the man replied in a sympathetic tone. The mayor didn't reply to this, instead choosing to stare down at the floor. Sensing emotional vulnerability from the mayor's posture, the man persisted. "Y'know... I think the concept of closure is massively underrated in this day and age..." he trailed off, "Maybe... Maybe the best end in this case would be if we accepted that there's nothing more that can be done for your Paw-Paw and w-" Predicting the course of action that her guest was about to suggest, the mayor cut him off.

"Choose your next words... VERY carefully." she snarled. The man stood silent, realizing he'd almost carelessly talked his way towards his own doom. Several oppressive seconds of silence presided over the room before the man regained the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." the man reaffirmed, "I can't fix your Paw-Paw."

"Well, that doesn't matter ONE IOTA to me. And do you know why that is?" the mayor growled, tears welling in her eyes, "Because I'll find someone who WILL. I'll ask every single person on EARTH if I have to." The mayor's claws unwittingly extended, though she didn't notice. "I'll even learn how to fix him MYSELF if I have to. I'll move mountains, I'll split atoms, I'll PART the TIDE and CLEAVE THE HEAVENS IN TWAIN, IF I MUST." she bellowed, "Even if the whole WORLD has abandoned Paw-Paw, I WON'T." "When Paw-Paw's himself again, HE'LL know." she spat, "He'll KNOW that I never gave up on him!"

The two stood in silence for what felt like an eternity. Mingus saw what she hated most reflected back at her through the eyes of her guest. Pity. Shortly after this, the mayor's guest silently excused himself from her company with a wordless nod and a wincing expression of understanding, leaving her alone in the dim, sterile operating room with her grandfather. Blinking back tears, she stared into his head, and looked upon what appeared to be a roll of film, being pulled along a belt, not unlike the surface of a treadmill. Constantly circling back and forth. Locked inside this incomprehensible mechanical safe, her Paw-Paw. No matter how futile it seemed, she would never be able to forgive herself for giving in. A single lock stood in the way of the salvation of the whole world, and by extension, herself.

The Mayor stood alone, transfixed with the impenetrable puzzle before her. Rhythmic mechanical whirs resonated from the complex system of exposed gears on display, their ceaseless revolutions punctuating the resounding silence of a still operating room with a dim, but reliable tick. Wheels within wheels, revolutions within revolutions.

STORY END.

(Art piece was by the talented Jen Jenneration! Check her stuff out, it’s top notch!)

There we go! Quite a few of you guys asked for it, so receive it you shalt...’ve(?) Thanks.

[ghoul-bonez]

~You Will Survive~

(Sully Family x Fem! Reader)

Summary: Your decision to leave was hard, but necessary…

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: Part 2 of A Lover, Not a Fighter- and shorter chap but 👍🏻 also posting early ooooo

Last - Next

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

You Will Survive

It wasn’t shocking that the RDA were after you, after Jake, but it had been shocking when Quaritch was the one hunting you. Neytiri had killed him, how was he back? He had always scared you, always been on your mind, even after his death.

What was even more terrifying was that he had your children. He had them under his knife. He could have easily killed them all if he didn’t need them for bait, and you didn’t want to think about that. You couldn’t think about that.

When it had first happened you had to be strong for the children, be calm and put together, but now it was your turn to break down as Jake and Neytiri were discussing something you hoped would never happen.

Your hut was quiet as you, Jake, and Neytiri were hidden inside, Neytiri and Jake face to face while you paced around behind your wife.

It was too quiet, no sounds of your kids running about outside, so you knew they were listening. Why wouldn’t they be listening? They knew things were tense, they knew something was wrong. You couldn’t blame them for wanting to know what was going on.

You were always a lover, not a fighter, so arguments weighed on you heavily. You felt yourself get dragged down, down, down as Jake and Neytiri continued their bickering.

Jake was tense, his breathing ragged, “This thing. This Quaritch. Whatever he is… He can walk right under Eywa’s nose.” You had thought about that, but you didn’t want to admit it out loud like Jake had.

You admit “He is dangerous, I can not pretend he is not,” you sigh, you want this to be easy, but you agreed with Neytiri, “but you cannot ask us to do this.”

Neytiri was quick to speak after you, not giving Jake room to argue back, “This is our family. This is our home.” You nodded in agreement.

Jake, sighed deeply, frustrated at his mates’ stubbornness, “This is about our family. This is about our little ones.”

You argued back, “Our little ones will not be happy anywhere but here, this is home.”

Neytiri and you had swapped places now, you standing in front of Jake while she paced around you two, “I cannot. You cannot ask this. I cannot leave my people. I will not.”

“We cannot leave our people.” You corrected her.

Jake took a deep breath, “He’s hunting us. He’s targeting our family.”

Neytiri was becoming more and more irritated, “You cannot ask this. The children, everything they’ve ever known. The forest. This is our home!”

Jake was becoming irritated just like Neytiri, “He had our children. He had them under his knife!”

You kept yourself together, refusing to break down like you felt you were going to, “He will not get them again!”

Neytiri stalked over to where she kept her bow, her father’s bow, and grabbed the weapon, “My father gave me this bow as he lay dying.” Her voice cracked, “And he said protect the people. You’re Toruk Makto!

Jake shouted, “This will protect the people! Quaritch had Spider, and that kid knows everything. He knows our whole operation, and can lead them right in here.” You cringed, knowing Kiri heard Jake’s unsureness of Spider’s loyalty, “If the people harbor us, they will die. Do you understand? Look I got nothing. I got no plan… but I can protect this family. That I can do.”

You sighed as tears started dripping down Neytiri’s face. You rushed over to her and hugged her, trying to comfort her as best as you could. You felt the same way, but you couldn’t cry like her. You couldn’t let go.

Jake was confident now, not giving space to speak again afterwards, “I know one thing. Wherever we go, this family is our fortress.”

You sighed once again as Jake took a few steps towards you and Neytiri, hugging both of you, surrounding you in his arms, you felt safe, like nothing was wrong, but only momentarily.

You knew what the decision you had to make was. You knew you had to leave, but you didn’t know how to tell the children, your decision not spoken out loud.

Dinner was awkward, everyone was quiet, but not silent. Lo’ak still bothered Neteyam and poked and prodded at him, trying to keep some semblance of normalcy, but he did it quieter than he usually would.

You had been nominated to be the one to break the news to the children, so you waited for the perfect moment.

Finally there was a lull in the conversation, and you took your chance, clearing your throat, “We have to leave.” You paused, “We are leaving…” you said quieter than before.

Lo’ak had been mid bite and his jaw dropped at the news, the food all spilling out. You cringed at the grossness, but couldn’t blame him. Kiri gasped, shock written on her face.

They act as if hearing your decision officially is any different from eavesdropping on you and their other parents, although you suppose they hadn’t heard the final verdict which was made after you were sure they were gone.

Neteyam didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything, but sit there and stare off into space. If you weren’t his mother you wouldn’t know what was going on in his head because of his stoic face. You know what was going on in his head though, you always have, and you always will.

Tuk abandoned her food and ran over to you, throwing herself in your arms, “My sweet girl…” You sighed, “It will be okay, everyone. I promise.”

Tuk sniffled, on the brink of tears, “But mama, I don’t want to leave.”

You held her a little tighter, “Neither do I, neither does mom, or dad. It will be okay though. Sullys stick together, right?”

Everyone quietly muttered a “Yeah” in response, which made you smile.

Sullys stick together.

After dinner you had packed up all you could, you would roll up hammocks in the morning and finish gathering small items laid around. You made sure to pack anything important to the children into your bags. Tuk’s beads for her hair, Kiri’s picture of Grace, Lo’ak’s first knife he carved, and Neteyam’s favorite childhood toy.

The next morning you had taken off, everyone on their respective ikrans, besides Tuk who didn’t have one, who sat huddled up in front of you where she leaned back against you. She was tired from the early start, but was trying to stay awake to watch the trees pass beneath them. She would switch between you, Neytiri, and Jake when you take flying breaks, but you had her first.

You couldn’t help but get lost in your thoughts as you flew, what was ahead of you. You knew you were headed to a sea clan, the Metkayina, but what would happen then? You weren’t equipped to be ocean people. You weren’t particularly fond of the water, and for Neytiri it would be hard to give up the ways she grew up with.

Your other most worrisome thought was what would happen if they turned you away? Where would you go? If they didn’t want you you were sure nobody else would either.

You evened out your breath which had sped up, you had to stop your worries, reminding yourself that in the end everything will be okay, you will survive.

Word Bank:

Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik - @ducks118 - @ssc7514

[jellyfishoreo1206]

hey dude! really like ur work lol :3 can you write a tf2 medic with a fem or gn reader who is alternative (like punk/goth?) it can be headcannons or a drabble or whatever u want :) thanks bud!

Medic with an Alt! Reader (gender-neutral)

Notes: Of course! Again, I'm sorry if it seems like I ignored your ask! For that, I'll attempt to make it extra long :3 Please correct me if I get anything wrong about the history of Alternative fashion/music, I mostly referenced Wikipedia, but I don't think there was enough information for me to go on. I didn't know if you wanted this to be a romantic pairing or just platonic, so I'm doing both!

So coming back to this, I realized that the first half of this is talking about Alt Reader, but then the next half it's literally just romance head cannons that have nothing to do with the ask. I've been carried away by the amount of ideas that have been flooding my brain at night that I completely forgot what I was doing in the first place. At this point, I'm just rolling with it, I'm sorry Anon

Warning(s): Medic being medic, cussing, mentions of reader smoking, slight spoilers for the TF2 Comics.

M/C = Merc Class

---

Platonic

Considering that this is the late 60's (and alt becoming a thing somewhere in the 1970's or 80's), Medic would take a keen interest in you.

Whether you take interest in Emo, Goth, Hip-Hop (which apparently is a form of Alt fashion! Good to know), Punk, Rocker or Grunge fashion; all of them have a few things in common, they all stand out from the mainstream fashion going on in that time, some are more artistic and attention-grabbing, and some coming to be as a break from beliefs.

I'm not going to lie to you, at first he thought it was some type of disorder

"I want to find out what's wrong with them" That's what's going through his mind 😭

He's so curious, you're going to be his new subject of interest until he has studied every inch of you

Whether that be operating on you or studying how you behave from afar.

---

Several days have passed since you've joined the mercenaries. You seem to be adjusting well enough to the team, getting along semi-okay with your teammates (if you ignore how the on your first day Soldier nearly killed you because he mistook you as a demon, shouting absolute nonsense). Engineer has been one of the most welcoming out of your teammates, offering to show you around and letting you know what to watch out for.

But there is one teammate that you can't even bring yourself to being around. The Medic.

God, you would think that the Engineer would at least warn you about him and his behavior, dude is seriously all kinds of creepy.

Ever since you got here, he's been watching you like a hawk. Always seeing him out of the corner of your eye, conveniently always being in the same room as you; Hell! Even following you out in the battle field. You even think you woke up to him crouching menacingly in the corner of your room, watching as you slept with a creepy smile on his face and an insane look in those eyes of his. (Desperately wishing that it was some kind of paranoia-filled nightmare and praying to whatever god that is up there that it wasn't real.)

"I swear! Was it something I did??" You decided to express your concerns to the Engineer, considering he is one of the more reasonable one's out of the mercs, and being the first person you hit it off with when you first arrived. He hummed in thought—putting down the sentry gun that he was tinkering with—turning to face you as he pushes his hard-hat back into place.

"Medic is a strange fella, I know tha'. But I don' think I've ever heard him act like this..." His response only seemed to add on to your distress, sitting yourself on the floor of his workshop with a loud groan. Great, so even he doesn't know what's going on either. "I'll hafta talk with him la'er, see wha's up with 'im."

"I appreciate it, Engineer."

"Please, call me Engie."

---

When the Engineer brought up the Medic's behavior to him, he just laughed it off

"Oh Herr Engineer, you must know as a man of science that this is simply an observation!" "...What exactly are ya' observin'?" "Haven't you noticed? How they dress! Is it a form of trauma? Or a type of disorder! I must find out!" *Cue him holding a bloody hand saw in the most menacing way possible* "Then..why don'tcha jus' ask them up front?" "I like my methods better."

Yeahhhh, he has a really bad case of autism

When Engie told you what the Medic told him, you just got even more confused.

What would the way you dress have anything to do with your mental state?

I mean, yeah, you've turned heads whenever you went out to do mundane tasks back home (such as picking something up from the store or returning something to a friend), and you had several people tell you that'll they will pray for you, but you've never had someone assume that it was straight up a disorder??

The thought itself just confuses you

Engie was right about him being weird..

---

A month has passed, and it seems like the Medic's behavior has calmed down a bit. Emphasis on a bit.

He stopped following you around out in the battlefield as much and seems to be getting back into his regular schedule of being the medic for the team; but you're starting to notice something else...

It seems he's attempting to talk to you! The whole entire time you've been here at the base, you two never actually had a proper conversation (mainly it was because you were attempting to avoid him as much as possible at the start, and Medic because he just saw you as another subject). The first time it happened was late at night, almost the early hours of the morning. You were in the kitchen, making some coffee for yourself and the Engineer (who has yet to go to sleep). You were pretty sure it was only the two of you awake at this time, since you didn't hear anything else other than the distant clinging and clanking of the engineer's machinery.

With both hands occupied with a mug of hot coffee, you were about to make your way out of the kitchen when you felt your heart drop. Jesus FUCKING CHRIST, HOW LONG WAS HE STANDING THERE????

Might as well be called The SPY instead with how fucking quiet he was.

You both made awkward eye-contact—awkward for you anyway—he seemed tired, but that didn't stop him from smiling at you—teeth and all.

"Ach, guten morgen!" He offers a small wave, his voice cheery despite his obvious exhaustion.

You didn't say anything, you bolted out of there.

Nope nope nope nope nopenopenope-!

---

The Medic didn't seem to take that reaction personally

If anything, it made him more curious

So he attempts to strike up another conversation, but this time with company around, since he was scolded by the engineer the very next day

Whether it was during dinner-time, before a match, or even game-nights (as chaotic as they can be); he always attempts to strike up conversations, whether you don't respond or you give one-word responses.

Going on to long rants about any topic that comes to mind, whether you want to listen or not; most of them are usually about the human biology or his previous experiments

You wish you could erase the memory when he told you he got a man pregnant with baboons.

When you asked why he wanted to talk to you, he merely gave a shrug and a almost sheepish smile

His response?

"Oh for no reason, I just got bored when I realized there were no results in my observations."

Yeah

You kept your distance as much as possible, still feeling a bit uncomfortable around the man

Though it eventually started to slowly fade away when he kept attempting to talk with you, a big part of it was also due to his birds perching themselves on you whenever you needed something from the medbay, cuddling up to you in a mass of feathers

You actually started to enjoy the conversations when he asked why you dressed the way you did

---

"Let me give you a brief summary," You start, sitting on the worn-out couch with the Medic on the far-end, a freshly lit cigarette in-between your fingers, "-there's a small community of us, people who also dress like me. But like I said, small community, not many of us." Taking the first drag of your cigarette, you see from the corner of your vision Medic holding a scolding look, eyeing the cigarette in your hand with disgust.

Blowing the smoke out in small puffs, you continued, "But, the reason why we dress the way we do, there's several and it varies from person to person."

"It could be a way of self-expression, a break from the mainstream style, or...damnit, I always forget the last one's. But there's many reasons why is what I'm trying to get at."

"What was your reasoning?" The Medic finally spoke, crossing his legs as he (un)discreetly takes out a notepad, writing down the information that you have just stated. The question processes in your brain, taking a long drag, repeating it over and over until an answer formed.

"Mm, nearly everyone dresses the same, no variety in their fashion." Finishing the last of the cigarette, you put it out in the ash tray atop the coffee table, leaning back into the couch with a stretch. "Everyone is always expected to dress the same. I wanted something different."

"Interesting..."

---

Romantic

Now for the romantic part of the relationship, it would take him FOREVER to figure out that he likes you

YEARS if nobody brings it up

He would just brush it off as excess adrenaline from the battles (even if there was a ceasefire)

He would also began to show a certain type of favoritism towards you (his birds especially)

Whether that be storing a jar of lollipops in his office for you to take from (and only you), telling you a in-depth explanation/step-by-step of his experiments before anybody else, scolding you whenever you do something that's unhealthy, or just treating you like a normal doctor whenever it comes time for the yearly check-ups (like not experimenting on you/doing a random surgery or injecting random chemicals into your body to see what effects it'll have on the battlefield.)

---

"Aye, doc! How come you only give M/N loli's!" For what seemed to have been the tenth time that day that Scout has complained about the same thing—over and over again—it was starting to get on the doctors nerves as he attempted (emphasis on attempted) to rescue his beloved bird that has somehow snuck his way inside of the scout and got himself tangled in the intestines while the Medic was preforming surgery.

"And for the last time, Scout." A sharp snap fills the tiled-room, a small piece of the Scout's rib cage in-between the Medic's gloved fingers, throwing it somewhere behind him without much concern for it as he continues with his current task at hand, "They aren't such a nuisance, unlike you."

---

That's his only excuse whenever someone asks really :/

He always seems to enjoy your company the most out of all the mercs and is seen with you more times than anybody else on the team

It's until one of the mercs bring up his favoritism from another point of view that he begins to think...differently

Not a bad differently, but a "What do I do" differently

Like that's the moment when he begins to realize his affections for you

Personally, I believe that man has never been in a romantic relationship/had romantic feelings for someone

So him being in love for possibly the first time in his life, he's stumped

Like what does he even do in a predicament like this???

Would probably go to Engie or Heavy about this predicament for some sort of guidance.

His behavior around you would change a bit

He would still act like his regular self

But with you around he could be seen fidgeting with whatever he has in his hands and stumbling over his words more often, maybe even calling you pet-names in German

There will be times where he'll have a red flush seen on his normally pale face whenever you do something he sees as attractive/adorable (whether that be ruthlessly killing the other team, laughing at something one of the mercs did, cooing at Archimedes, etc.)

Like, flushed to the tips of his ears down to the nape of his neck type of blushing

You can tell he's blushing whenever his glasses fog up <3

---

"Who's a pretty bird? You're a pretty bird!" Said blood-covered dove cooed at the various praise he was receiving from you, flapping his wings in a joyful matter. You came to the medbay to ask Medic for something that the Engineer needed but quickly got sidetracked when a certain dove flew down from his perch and decided to greet you.

Bringing a finger up to the dove, you give him small gentle scratches atop his head, continuing to coo at the bird with a big smile stretched across your lips.

Medic watches as the whole thing happens from his desk, a look of adoration in his eyes as he watches the on-going interaction between you and his bird. A feeling of warmth began spreading across his face, the beating of his heart increasing just from the sight alone.

He's absolutely clueless on what to do—the well-composed Medic, the man who has made a deal with the Devil and tricked him, sowing 8 souls to his very own, and has done many experiments that should be impossible to achieve—is confused on how he should proceed with his arising feelings for someone he considered a colleague and friend.

What a very troublesome situation.

---

He would probably be a bit straightforward when he decides to confess to you, probably in a private space like in the Medbay or when it's late at night so nobody is awake to walk in on the two of you

When I say "a bit straightforward", I mean like he'll beat around the bush for a brief few seconds before just going for it, and keeps eye-contact throughout the whole thing

If you accept his feelings; he's ecstatic! But he doesn't know how to act, to say.

'What do couples do??' 'How does one act when they are in a relationship?' Mainly the questions that are going through his mind

If you reject his feelings; he'll become quiet and distant around you. He might even be a bit mad at himself, whenever he's by his lonesome; staring at his reflection on his bone-saw as his birds attempt to comfort him

Like, you guys will still talk, but it'll just be awkward—a tension between the two of you

Okay moving on.

Once entering a relationship with the Medic, it's best if you take things slow; discuss boundaries with one another, what to do and what not to do, etc,.

Would probably become a bit more touchy? Like, small brushes against your hand or one of your limbs, holding you hand or just linking pinkies with you whenever the two of you are alone

Like those kind of touches, soft.

Kisses would probably start off small too; small kiss to your knuckles or a kiss to the palm of his hand to bring a flush out of him (Though he prefers both of these in private)

Would absolute want to attempt to do your hair and make-up

I feel like he's either the kind of person to keep his love life private, but also not? Like, he would drops hints that he's in a relationship with you, but they are so subtle they fly over a few of the mercs heads

---

Again, Anon, I'm sorry for going off-topic

[yunhogosailing]

women’s rights, stan culture, and “idolization”: what the fuck are we doing here?

tw: sexual abuse

i am absolutely dismayed to hear of the ongoing situation involving taeil, despite knowing very little about him as a person and having surface level knowledge of nct 127 as a group. i am even more dismayed at the discourse surrounding the way nctzens, especially taeil stans, have been reacting to the news since the announcement this morning.

i dont want to rant and ramble bc that helps nobody. i’ve read my fair share of thinkpieces on various platforms—some well thought out, some covering the bare minimum at best, and even more demonstrating a complete lack of understanding as to how we need to approach these subjects both as fans and as consumers. i feel as if everything that needed to be said has been said, but i do want to touch on a point of my own, and tell you all how you can help support the ongoing korean feminist movement.

it is not healthy to go about your entire life assuming that you will see the worst of someone eventually.

this is true for anyone you meet: an idol, a family member, a friend, and a complete stranger. i’m exhausted by all of the Hot Takes admonishing those who feel a sense of loss, sorrow, and disgust upon finding out that someone who they were led to trust could potentially be capable of doing something as heinous as what is being alleged against taeil.

“you don’t know these people” you’re correct! i most certainly do not.

“don’t put these people up on a pedestal” nobody is doing this by virtue of simply being a fan.

“as a boy group stan you should always keep in mind that men are shit.” are you starting to see my issue, yet?

you are not naive or stupid for believing the best in someone, even if this is a person you have never met and will never know on a more personal level than as a fan of an idol. i am exhausted with the seemingly popular belief that its somehow healthy or normal to navigate through life operating under the assumption that everyone around you has the capacity for violence and harm. it is not healthy. as a survivor of sexual abuse and harassment, one of the first things i had to regain over my life was a sense of control and sanity. this meant ridding myself of the fear that i could be re-victimized at any moment. statistically speaking, it was always a possibility. but realistically speaking, i was doing far greater harm to myself throughout my recovery when i was afraid of the men around me.

if you are an nctzen, if you are taeil biased, do not feel bad about being blindsided by this. do not start assuming that the other members must have been aware, or must be involved, or must have committed some crime of their own; that is simply not how the real world works. if you are a fan of boy groups, keep your standards high but do not view this as a reason to be hyper vigilant of the people you stan. do not assume the worst until they present you with the worst. expecting people to be decent is not idolizing someone. its when you refuse to hold them accountable to the actions that they have done that you cross the line between being a fan and being an enabler.

why is this important to keep in mind?

we as kpop stans are in a particularly unique position. we are consumers of a byproduct from a culture that is undergoing a severe women’s rights crisis.

just recently, a series of telegram groups were discovered in which hundreds of thousands of users created and shared artificial explicit materials (deepfakes) involving women and young girls spanning from kindergartners to university students to adults; family members, classmates, coworkers, etc. the figures of the perpetrators involved could potentially be as high as 300,000 individuals, and a overwhelming majority of those in these chats are believed to be men.

this incident is coming right off the tails of another, more infamous group of telegram rooms nicknamed “the Nth rooms”—where a number of men helped to orchestrate one of the largest cases of digital sex crimes in south korean history, victimizing over a hundred women and young girls for the purpose of disseminating violent sexually explicit materials.

even before the original Nth Room case, korean women had more than enough reasons to fear for their safety; molka (hidden camera) crimes were on the rise, with over 30,000 cases being reported between 2013 and 2018. korean women were being assaulted and killed in their homes and on the street for no reason (significantly high femicide rates are still an issue in south korea today). women were being prosecuted over the mere belief that they may be involved in the country’s feminist movement—experiencing professional repercussions over accusations such as reading a book, having short hair, or making a gesture. in the wake of this anti-feminist backlash, it became increasingly common for men to voice their discomfort for what they believe to be “radical” measures taken by korean women to ensure their safety and improve their futures. see, for example, rapper San-E who wrote a diss track towards feminists and is still able to walk these streets relatively unharmed due to his position of privilege.

the notion that you should always assume that every man you meet is a potential sex criminal or a misogynist is harmful simply because that is the exact reason why korean feminists have been working so hard to change the legislation surrounding sexual crimes for the last two decades. the ultimate goal of gender equality is having that reassurance that no matter what gender motivated crime is committed against you, you will be entitled to justice through the courts and free of the stigma of being a victim in society. korean women want to be able to interact with their brothers and fathers without worrying about ending up in a deepfake video. korean women want to be able to venture outside their homes at night without fear of being followed and abducted. korean women want to be able to use the restroom at work without having to check the stalls for microscopic recording devices. the idea that you should be weary of those around you and those who have gained your trust is detrimental to your mental health, and with this knowledge, korean women have been actively working tirelessly to ensure a future where they will not have to worry about this.

it could be your faves, but theres no guarantee that it will ever be or that it will never be. rather, work today to uphold the standard that women should be protected and hold those who have violated their rights as human beings to the full power of the law. keep the names of those who have suffered or died from violent crimes against women alive and their stories in the media. south korean feminists are asking for our help in spreading the news about the recent deepfake Nth rooms, because they are facing silence and noncompliance from domestic media outlets to do their due diligence in investigating this matter.

they are suggesting that you take korean news articles surrounding the deepfakes, or korean feminist posts discussing the telegram groups and any events that are being planned to protest for women’s rights, and run them through a translator if needed in order to share them with english speaking news media. the idea is that as long as international eyes are on the atrocities being committed against women in the country, the korean news cannot suppress their voices.

here are the twitter accounts that i know of who are taking the risk to share their stories and that of other south korean women:

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