#ive gone full idiot guys

[bird-inacage]

First & Khaotung Meowing for 21 Seconds 🐈‍⬛*MEOW*🐈

I don't know about you but I adore it when they say 'cat' in Thai, because it just sounds like they're meowing at each other. Two actual cats having a conversation. (Editing this sent me into such giggles - I'm so dumb).

[deeisace]

..

[purinfelix]

is it casual now? ✶⋆.˚ - joao felix

pairing - joao felix x reader summary - after yet another night spent together in secrecy, you finally build up the courage to ask Joao and uncomfortable question warnings - some angst, possibly a toxic relationship? word count - 1k

a/n: just bc ive been listening to chappell roan NONSTOP lately and realised i hadn't written a full length fic in a hot minute !!! hope u guys enjoy <333

There were a lot of people who wanted to know what kind of relationship you and Joao had.

Of course, there were endless amounts of media outlets and gossip pages that seemed to have eyes following everywhere the two of you went. It got to the point where you knew any time you were with him publicly, it would only be a few hours before your timeline was inundated with sensationalised headlines or sneakily taken candids.

Then there were the avid fans who commented on these posts, dreaming up theories that never failed to surprise you - that you were a childhood friend, a secret lover reuniting with him, or worst of all, that you were a ‘wannabe-WAG’ attempting to use Joao for his money. Perhaps most annoyingly though were your friends, who pressed endlessly for details whenever you mentioned having met up with the footballer recently despite your protests.

Sometimes it felt like all eyes were on you and your relationship - but sitting here, in a plush white hotel bathrobe on an equally plush and white hotel bed - you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the one who wanted to know most of all. You let the hand holding your phone fall to your side, heart heavy after seeing yet another gossip page post about the outing the two of you had gone on earlier the day with a headline relaying the typical narrative that you were nothing more than a gold-digging fake.

“Don’t bother with those,” you hear a soft voice behind you, Joao making his way out of the hotel bathroom in a matching bathrobe. His hair is still dripping wet from the shower and you’re almost envious of the way his skin glows in the soft ambient light. “Those idiots don’t know anything,” his tone is adamant, and you’d almost think he was being genuine.

“Well, it’s not like you tell them anything,” you mumble, barely louder than a whisper but he still catches the attitude in your tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffs, tossing the small towel he was using to dry his hair to the ground without a care. Making his way to the other side of the bed, he lies chest-down, eyes fixed on you.

“All I’m saying is,” the regret in your voice at having brought up this tired conversation is evident but the almost daring expression on Joao’s face forces you on, “we can’t expect them not to make all these crazy theories when you’ve basically been keeping me a secret all this time.”

“Hey I thought we both agreed to keep this a secret, why is it all my fault all of a sudden?”

“It’s not, it’s just,” you sigh in frustration, eyes wandering the room - the crumpled bedsheets beneath you, your bag laying on the bedside table, contents half-spilled, your shirt laying where you had hastily thrown it - anywhere but his face.

“Just what?” he presses, and you bite your lip in a futile attempt to stop yourself from asking the question that’s been on your mind for as long as you’ve known him.

“What are we, Joao?” your gaze falls to your own lap, unable to look at the expression on his face as you’re sure it’ll only make his response sting more.

“Why are you asking me this now?” It’s clear this was the last thing he was expecting from the way he’s taken aback and slightly amused - which only frustrates you more.

“Why can’t I?”

“I mean, I thought we were just keeping this casual, you know? That’s what we agreed upon isn’t it?”

“Yeah, months ago.” You try to maintain your temper but you can’t help your voice from raising a little, “Don’t you think it’s time to reconsider that? I mean we’re a bit more than casual don’t you think? Casual doesn’t involve fancy hotel hook-ups or night time beach walks!”

“I don’t know, I mean,” his defensiveness irritates you, “You know what it’s like being a footballer, I just can’t have anything threatening my position right now. I need to focus on the game, a distraction is the last thing I need.”

“And what about me Joao? Don’t you think I’m tired of the constant slander I get every time we’re out together?” You feel your heart racing and your blood boiling, “You’ve seen the articles haven’t you?”

“Look, it’s late, I’m tired and really don’t feel like talking about this now. Can we just go to sleep? We’ll discuss this in the morning.” He doesn’t even wait for your reply before stretching out underneath the blankets with a loud fake-yawn. You just sit there slack jawed, not entirely surprised but still a little taken aback that he would just cut you off like that, in the middle of a conversation you had been rehearsing in your head for weeks like it was nothing.

You know he’s lying about discussing this in the morning but still, you reach over to turn off the lamp on your side table before slowly pulling the blanket over yourself - not like you have any other option. You make a point of turning your back to him and huffing though, too frustrated to fall asleep as your mind continues to whir with thoughts about all the things you’re going to say to him the minute you’re awake tomorrow.

That is, at least, until you feel the familiarly gentle touch of Joao’s hands around your waist, tugging you close to him until he’s able to fully envelope you in his arms. He kisses the back of your head - a slow, sleepy, almost genuine apology. You can’t do anything other than let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the comfort you’ve learnt to find in his touch, in his scent, and his presence - no matter how fleeting it may be.

Because even if you wake up tomorrow to an empty bed, no sign of him even having been here at all other than a heavy heart, and no one else in the world knows what sort of relationship the two of you have - at least you’ll have moments like these to yourself to savour.

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki Preparing for the Proposal:

*if you want to read the Part 1 you can click here

“Can you for once just do what I ask you without questioning everything Pinky? I’m offering a spa day full paid and you’re acting like I’m holding you at gunpoint!” I said exasperated.

Ive been on the phone for 10 minutes for what should have been a 2 minute phone called. I’d called and told Mina that i would pay for y/n and her to have a spa day. Massages, nails, hair, the works. What i didn’t expect is for the this woman to put up a fight about it.

“ I’m just trying to make sure a villain hasn’t taken over your body and is impersonating you! But fine, twist my arm. I’ll take your card AND your girlfriend and go do some damage on your dime. I’m tired of going back and forth. What time should I be there to get her?” She asked cheerily now that she’d accepted to “gift” being offered to her.

“Around 11 in the morning. You guys can go get lunch or something. And again I say, big mouth, do not tell her that I’m apart of this. Do you understand?” I said in the most threatening tone possible.

“Sir yes sir.” She mocked at me. “I’ll text her to set up it up now. Oh and I hope whatever you’re planning goes accordingly to plan, Mr. Inconspicuous.”

The gurgle that came out of that my mouth had Mina laughing on the other end of the phone.

“Shut up idiot. I’m not planning anything. Bye!” And i quickly hung up the call.

Dammit. She’d better not know anything. Eijirou better not have run his mouth and Pinky sure as hell better not run her mouth. Putting faith in any of my shitty friends to keep a secret was like trying to sweep sand at the beach… hopeless.

I had no other way to guarantee that y/n would stay away from the house long enough for me to get everything set up.

I’d gone into my office and locked the door to call Mina just to make sure she didn’t overhear anything.

When I finally made it back to the bedroom, she was in bed on her phone and didn’t LOOK like she suspected anything so that’s as good as I could hope for right now.

“Mina just randomly texted me and said she wants to go to the spa tomorrow. Isn’t that weird? It’s 8 o’clock at night and I just saw her earlier and she didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Mina’s weird all the fucking time anyway so no more than usual I guess. You should go though…. I mean you’ve been saying that works been stressing you or whatever.” I know I’m a shit liar, but this insane technically lying, so I’m hoping she buys it.

Ever since I’d decided to propose to her, everything I say sounds like something rehearsed or scripted and it’s putting me on edge. I’m either gonna give this woman this ring or have a goddamn heart attack trying.

“Hmmmm, you’re right. She said she’s going to cover it so why not.” She texts back and then sets down her phone on the nightstand score she turns to me. “I have the best friends in the world, don’t I?”

“Yea… just fucking terrific” I said frowning

“Katsuki, baby, don’t be jealous. I’ll tell Eiji to get you guys a spa day for your birthday. It’ll be a cute little outing.” she says all cheeky.

“No way in hell. I’ve gotten massages with E before and that bastard groans and moans while he’s getting his. I’ll be damned if I suffer through that again.” That makes her giggle but I’m being completely serious.

She does that a lot, finds humor in my honesty. One of the reasons I can’t wait to marry her. She’s one the few that I can be myself with and never feel like I’m saying the wrong thing or being the wrong me…. Fuck.

“Hey, where are you right now? You’re looking at me but you are not in the same space?” And I feel her warm hand press up against my cheek.

“Nowhere, just thinking. I’m tired, long day. You ready to go to sleep?”

“Mhmm.” She leans and presses 3 quick kisses to my lips before she turns to turn off the lamp next to the bed.

The time she snuggles down into the sheets my arm is wrapping around her and pulling her back flush against my front.

“Goodnight princess”

“Night Kat-daddy”

The last thought before I drift to sleep is that hopefully by tomorrow night I’ll be sleeping next to my fiance instead of my girlfriend.

*ok, so I don’t like writing super long fics soooo this is going to end up being part 2 of 3 or 4. I haven’t decided. But I feel like all this filler is super cute and important because Katsuki is actually such a simp and such a nerd underneath all that attitude and I wanted to showcase that soooo please don’t be mad that this isn’t the actual proposal🥺

Katsuki Masterlist

Tooties Tags: Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @jays-adventure3 @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @citrustsuki-2 @queenpiranhadon @mikestuffffs @gold24fish @getou0309 @djlance-rock



[fanta2y]

Puppy Love

ahh sorry ive been meaning to post this fic for a couple days now but ive been swamped with school, but its here now !! yahoo!

i hope you guys like ittt <3

cw: slightly suggestive? and i mean SLIGHTLY

word count: 2k

Yuuji was never scared to show his affections. Whether that be with his encouraging words, or his physical touches. He knew that his time was limited, especially with his unorthodox life choices, so showing his love to the people he loved was something that had always came easy to him. 

Until you came along. 

Everytime you entered a room his eyes immediately found yours, and just as they met he would rip them away from you. A blush almost instantly appearing on his cheeks as he stood, quickly and quietly excusing himself. 

For Kugisaki and Fushiguro, it was easy to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Having known Yuuji for quite some time now, they knew what his normal behavior was. And this? This was far from it.

But for you, you were new. Having just met these people days before, so you were convinced that you had done something to offend him, or he just simply didn’t like you. Maybe you stunk? 

Little did you know, his thoughts were the exact opposite. He thought you were gorgeous, your laugh was like music to his ears. Your voice was soothing and beautiful, he could listen to you talk for hours. But this sickly sweet feeling that raised his heartbeat and brought heat to his face was something very new to him. Something he hadn’t really experienced before. 

Sure, he had found girls attractive before, even asked a girl out to their middle school dance. But this was different, this was deeper. It coiled around his bones, squeezing his throat. Made him do things and say things he didn’t want. It was infuriating. 

He groaned into his pillow, his mind tormenting him with a replay of his embarrassing moments in front of you today. He wanted the earth to swallow him whole, or better yet just let Sukuna take over and have him kill him instead. Anything would be better than him continuing to fumble about like this any longer. 

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon, he figured he might be able to tire himself out enough to simply pass out due to exhaustion. Hoping it would shut his mind up. Yuuji stood from his bed, putting on some old tennis shoes and throwing a hoodie on. He went out of his dorm and headed for the training rooms. 

He clenched and unclenched his fists all the way there, his mind plagued with you. 

You. You. You.

You were all he ever seemed to think about these days. 

He did some quick stretching, wanting nothing more than to just start the mind-numding activity of punching something over and over and over again. Until his brain was too tired to come up with any new scenarios to torture him with. 

But of course, just as he goes to throw his first punch. He hears an all too familiar voice. 

“Itadori? What are you doing awake?” Your voice echoed off the empty gym walls. He froze, his heartbeat immediately picking up. The blush full force on his cheeks. He couldn’t get his brain and his mouth to cooperate so he just stood there, back facing you. His mouth wide open in shock, he almost wanted to laugh at his sheer luck. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, after the silence pushed on too long. You words were coated in a thick layer of worry. While you were still sure the boy hated you, and you knew you might be pushing your luck. You didn’t just want to stand there and pretend like nothing was wrong. It was nearly 2 in the morning and here he is, training. Any one in their right mind would be a bit worried. 

“I’m fine…” He managed to choke out, He's such an idiot. What is wrong with him. Why can’t he just speak!

“If you need the training room I can go.” He muttered quickly, turning quick on his feet to walk past you. His eyes glued to the floor, walking with a newfound purpose back to his dorms. 

“No wa-..” But before you could even finish your sentence he was already gone, without even a second glance your way. The doors to the gym slammed shut. And all of a sudden it was just you alone.

You sighed, your head falling forward into your hands as you stood there. You felt embarrassed and a bit ticked. You had tried and tried to rack your brain to figure out if you had done something, anything, to make him this upset. But you realized that you hadn’t had the chance to make him upset because after you had introduced yourself to him, he had been avoiding you like the plague. 

You groaned, stretching your hands over your head. Turning on your heels to head back to your room, a new feeling of determination settling in you. You were going to get to the bottom of this even if its the last thing you do. 

The next morning you rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The interrupted sleep definitely did you no favors, but upon remembering last night's incident you remembered your goal.

To figure Itadori out. 

You both saw each other in class, usually sitting on opposite ends. But today, you were going to be bold. And after whispering about it to Kugisaki, who nodded fervently at your efforts. A glint in her eyes you couldn’t quite name. She sent you off to the empty desk next to his with a whisper, “Gooo…this class is boring anyways!” 

You heard her giggling behind you as you willed away the nerves. He hadn’t come in yet, he had a notorious habit for sleeping in just a little. Not enough for him to be late, but enough for him to be right on time.

He walked in, panting slightly. His hair was a bit all over the place and he was definitely wearing the hoodie he had on last night. When both of your eyes met, he quickly tore them away. Not even giving himself a chance to realize where you were in the room. The realization didn’t strick him until he had sat down and saw you were much closer than you usually were. 

But before he could move, Gojo had walked in. Declaring the start of the lecture, and the start of Yuujis slow and tortuous day. 

To say you were frustrated was an understatement. At every opportunity you had tried to get him alone to talk to him, even flat out asking him “Can I speak to you?” to which he had the audacity to respond with, “I’m actually a bit busy, maybe later?” Even though he very clearly wasn’t doing anything. 

You had sat next to him for each and every class, you even passed him a note! You had gotten yourself as his sparring partner for training, even finding yourself sitting at his, Fushiguro and Kugisaki’s table for lunch. 

Even though all the time you guys had spent together today, he had barely uttered a word to you. And didn’t even think about letting you talk to him.

You wanted to pull your hair out.

Sitting in your last class, next to him of course. You were staring him down, and he seemed the more interested in the lecture than he had ever been before. You knew he was just trying to avoid accidentally making eye contact with you. And it only boiled your blood more. 

What was this guy's issue?!

As Gojo wrapped up the last lecture of the day, an idea popped into your head. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you were reaching for Itadori's hand. Entangling it tightly within your own and leading him very quickly out of the room. You heard Kugisaki yelling some type of encouragement after you, but you didn’t pay it much mind. 

“I- what are you doing?!” Itadori asked behind you, bewildered by your sudden boldness. You didn’t give him the luxury of a response, especially since you didn’t quite know yourself. All you knew was that if he wasn’t going to talk to you of his own accord, you were going to force it out of him. 

You spotted an empty classroom, and before you could think much about it you shoved him inside. Shutting the door behind you and standing infront of it. 

He stood, shocked. His mind blank as he desperately tried to process the events of what just happened. But the warmth of your hand still on his wrist short-circuited his brain to a point where it was beyond function. On instinct, he ripped his wrist from yours as if the touch had burned him. 

“What is your problem with me?” You wanted to sound angry, you wanted to be angry. You were angry a second ago. But now, standing in front of him. You found yourself to be anything but. Your voice sounded weak, soft, sad. It made you cringe. 

This stopped him, pulled him far enough out of his own head to clear the fog of whatever he felt for you to see the situation for what it was. 

He was such an asshole.

“What do you mean? I dont-” You interrupted him with a scoff. “Oh please, you avoid me like I have some disease, you don’t look at me. You went this entire day without saying more than 2 words to me…I just, I don’t understand and look I’m sorry if I offenunmph.” 

Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt warm lips on yours. Slightly chapped, but nice. It felt nice. You reacted almost instantaneously, melting into the kiss. It was sweet, just your lips moving against eachother. 

He pulled away, panting slightly. Out of instinct you leaned forward to follow his lips, he chuckled at you. Resting his head on your forehead instead. “I’m sorry.” He whispered between the shared breaths. His eyes now seemingly to be unable to leave yours. His gaze was overwhelming, for a split second you almost wished he would go back to avoiding you. You didn’t know how much of this you could take. 

Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze, turning your head to the side. You put your hands on his chest, going to push him away from you. Your cheeks turning bright pink as the realization of what just happened settled into the air. 

You laughed forcefully, “All is forgiven! You can go now.” Speaking all too quickly, your tried again to put some distance between you and him. Cursing past you for standing against the door as you now have no place to back up from. He was so close, his hot breath fanning over your already too warm cheeks. 

Silently, he reached his hand to your chin. It felt like a spell had be broken, the shyness and avoidance you had gotten use to these past weeks disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place. 

He turned your head to face his again, “No really, I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole.” He sounded so sincere it made you sick, his eyes finding yours again. Holding you hostage under the intense gaze. Without thinking, your eyes flicked down to his lips again, quickly looking back up to his eyes. But not quick enough for it to go unnoticed. The small smile that tugged on his lips was all the warning you got before his lips were on yours again. 

This sudden boldness had taken you by surprised, as you were pressed even further against the door. He crowded around you, hand moving from your chin to cup the back of your neck. Keeping your lips pressed against his as they melded together, lips and tongues intertwining. The kiss quickly turned heated as you forced your head back to rest against the door behind you. 

“Let me make it up to you.” 

authors note: IDK GUYS I KINDA ATE WITH THIS :))))) i really do like the way it turned out and i hope you guys do too!!! make sure your taking care of yourselves, much love <3

[juelzsstuff]

Telling armin about your crush (spoiler it's him)

!sfw! idk how to write i didn't pass english class dont come at me.

you two were best friends since childhood and you've always had a crush on him even a little more than a crush and the two of you never spared any details when it came to your lives. you often hungout with jean, connie and sasha and mostly went on missions with their group. you two were talking around a camp fire to catch up after everyone had gone off to sleep, too deep in conversation to head to bed.

————————————————————

"imagine if the captain saw us up still, he'd probably make us dig each others grave" you say laughing quietly. "yeah i know but hey at least we wouldn't be dying along as a titan snack" he smiled back at the thought of you two being buried next to each other with matching headstones. A memory sparks in your mind, "omg i forgot to tell you", you turn toward him ready to spill your latest gossip, something you two did regularly. "i went out to go do my cleaning in the mess hall and i saw the hottest man i have ever seen in my entire life and okay so my first thought was holy shit, my second was the realization that i looked like i just crawled out of a pile of horse shit and i was already staring at him and yk what this man did" you pause covering your face in embarrassment. armin has a huge smile on his face waiting to hear how badly you fumbled, "what did he do?" you slide your hands off your face and turn toward him putting a hand on his leg to brace yourself from what you are about to admit "he came up to me because i'm staring still and said 'are you okay, did you come from the infirmary?' and i just made a weird noise that was supposed to be words and walked off". armin starts laughing trying to hold back, "you need serious help, there's no coming back from that y/n", you respond half laughing half fake crying "I KNOW". the laughter dies down and armin speaks up "so what did he look like?" you try to think of what he looked like and draw a blank, only remember some key points, "he had like brown hair and was sort of tall definitely shorter than you.....i guess now that i think about it, i really didn't see his face so he was probably average looking. not really my type". armin chuckles and he asks, "so what is your type then".

you think for a moment, a pang of anxiety runs through you. you've always pushed down your feelings for him and just enjoyed your friendship but tonight you might as well get a little bold. you think for a moment and look up at the starry sky, "i like smart guys yk? like the ones who aren't just a feral idiot ready to pick a fight or so full of themselves that it's annoying and weird". "blondes are okay too, my favorite actually" you say while stealing a glance at him, he's looking down at the ground and not really paying attention. so you keep talking "i've had a crush on this one guy but either he's oblivious or he's not interested so i've given up and so ive gone for the opposite type". armin looks at you intrigued, "a crush? like a serious one or like i barley saw his face and i made a weird noise one?" he says holding back a smile, his perfect teeth flashing for only a second. you nudge his shoulder and roll your eyes, "like a serious one". "can i guess who it is?", a nervous zap runs through your body and all your confidence is running out the window. armin seems to notice and is now even more excited and confident in his conclusion. he speaks with pure certainty, "it's reiner isn't it?"

your face drops and all the anxiety you had before has become straight disappointment, the only thought in your mind: omg he's an idiot. how is the smartest man in the scouts really this oblivious, you might as well have said your crushes name started with a ar and ended with a min. well maybe he knew what you were trying to say and he's giving you an out. it's too late now, time to commit or dig that grave you two were talking about earlier. you sigh and look at him in his sky blue eyes, "do you seriously not know? i'm talking about you armin" he sits there eyes wide and a blush on his cheeks, "w-what? me?" "yes who else, seriously? don't say you actually thought i was into reiner" you say sheepishly. armins heart is beating fast, he never thought you would think of him that way in a million years and all of a sudden his dreams have come true. all the years he spent listening to you talk about boys and his attempt to shove down his feelings for you and try to fall for another girl no longer mattered. all the times he got excited when you came to talk to him and no one else, every time you accidentally brushed his hand and it went straight to his soul. it now means something more than before but now his brain has basically stopped working and he might as well be dreaming. you talk again as you watch his brain short circuit "i love you armin and i always have, more than just a friend". he doesn't look at you and looks up at the camp fire with a smile and says, " i love you more than you know y/k, everything about you is so perfect. i always told myself anything you need i would be there first before anyone or.... any other guy could be. i would listen to you talk about the guys you see or liked and i would make a note in my brain of how maybe i could do the same so you'd talk about me and get that same look in your eyes". he chuckles, "one time i even tried to style my hair differently and i unbuttoned a few buttons on my uniform but the captain saw it before you could. that was the day i had to run laps till i collapsed". he smiles and hesitates before looking at you, soaking in your features in the moonlight contrasting with the dim coals of the bonfire. he speaks softly and tucks a strand of hair behind or ear, "you're so beautiful, i thought it was too good to be true". you blush and lean closer to him, the two of you like magnets. you stop inches away from his face, feeling his breath hitch and you look up at him and see his eyes closed. he's nervous, how cute, you wonder if he's ever kissed a girl before but that's better to ask after. you close the distance and his body relaxed and you melt into it with him, his hands reach up and hold your face so lightly. you've always wondered what it would be like, what he would be like and it's even better than you imagined.

[bisexualmcqueen]

Ok listen, I know you literally just posted about McQueen's parents, but I am already so obsessed with them and would love to know more about them!! 💙

ok so this has been sitting in my askbox since JULY (CRAZY??) and ive been thinking about it ever since. thank you for bearing with me<3 quite frankly i needed to reacquaint myself a bit longer with cars/my cars ocs after a 4 year long break!! lightning is about 43 now in 2024, which means i have 4 decades of his story to mentally keep track of (simply the flavor of autism i have). i bounce all over like a laserbeam in a hall of mirrors.

alright. oliver and donna time. blanket warning for varied implied child abuse/neglect. [background info this ask is referencing!!] ***

the very basic core of these characters is looking at lightning mcqueen and wondering how the hell he wound up all fucked up the way he did. hes got all the issues (he thinks hes sooo normal but there are so many things going on that arent right). so i invented a couple of fucked up guys to fuck him up (mildly to moderate) in his formative years.

oliver is the main culprit here. oliver mcqueen. yes- one of the core aspects of this character is "Two Of Them". what if there was Another mcqueen. imagine a second mcqueen man (dear god). he had a dad somewhere along the line. and what a guy, oh i'm sadly a bit obsessed with oliver. hes like if lightning mcqueen was Worse. hes a boomer from the boston metro area and he thinks he's cool as shit like bernie madoff doing investing fraud, trying to get rich. he thinks hes the wolf of wall street of texas. his head is completely up his own ass and hes a mean little idiot worm. hes supposed to be raising monty but all hes taught him is 'every man for himself' and how to close the door quietly. that and other things.

they live in the dallas metro area together from about 1988-1999. oli does not want to raise this kid, so he sort of just throws food and tires at him occasionally. monty spends a lot of time outside, raising hell (where'd you learn to fly like that, city boy?). typical racecar behaviors. (his teachers find him impossible to deal with often as well).

not to say that oliver is some irredeemable evil freak- hes funny, hes charming, hes a bit of a badass, hes sort of a hot pathetic mess in a funny way. he does pass on some decent traits to his son, gives him good advice occasionally. he's crazy, but he works in an office, so most of his schemes are social and criminal. i recently made an AU where he's a racer, so hoping to post more about that as i develop. (a successful oliver is much more frightening than one distracted by failure!)

this has oliver and monty vibes, oddly enough:

don't be fooled- oliver could never hold a candle to the heart of logan wolverine. oliver is a republican and he hates women (he loves women /derogatory). oliver sucks enough that lightning straightup considers doc to be his actual dad. next! ***

ah, donna. origin of abandonment issues, ring ring!

she's less developed than oliver because she exits stage left pretty early on in the story, but we still love her (or hate her, up to interpretation!) i actually recently gave her a full name even: Donna Ann SteelDust. yep, steeldust as in the mythical foundational sire of the American Quarter Horse breed. partly because texas, partly because i love horses, and partly because in the 1950's there lived a pair of quarter horses who were father and son named Doc and Lightning. and they were racing quarter horses to boot! oh, and partly because the mother of lightning mcqueen deservedly needs a badass name.

donna has monty at about age 20, with a godless charmer from faraway boston, out of wedlock, in a small community somewhere towards western texas in the early 80's. oliver is fresh out of uni and a couple years older. donna is a waitress at the local eatery. girl, your taste in men is abysmal. you can NOT fix him. traveler meet-cute gone wrong...

hes miserable enough of a partner that he is ultimately what drives donna to leave. gone in the wind one day when monty is about six. she met someone new. someone who she thinks is kinder.

she puts the tv to RSN every sunday. she likes watching races- radio when theres no tv. when monty becomes obsessed, she gets him a little strip weathers figurine when shes out of town one day that he manages to hold onto til his teen years. they sit in front of the tv and watch together, and have popcorn made on the stovetop. when lightning recalls his mother, this is the first place his mind goes.

she didnt want a kid (as in unplanned). she didnt consciously try to be a good parent (neither did oliver). but she was sweet. well, sometimes, when she wasnt being a hot mess and stirring up drama.

originally, i was going to have her die before lightning became famous. oliver was going to also be dead by now (2024). but ive got some new ideas- oliver is in prison, donna is in denial about her famous son and festering with guilt. she does not reach out to him. (latter idea from Non).

to boil them down further: donna believes in love, oliver believes in money. they go about it the wrong way. they make mistakes. (part of lightning's obsession with money is in unconscious spite of his father- he wants to prove a point, that he was doing it all wrong, he can do better, he can Win ['i'll show him!']. consciously, lightning's money worries are about his own longevity. there is no lightning mcqueen parts factory: hes some sort of rare 1 of 1 anomaly. unconsciously again: death [mortality, time lost, being forgotten] frightens him. out loud, he says wrecking does. he does not connect any of these dots fully.)

a looottt of this is in flux, these characters still need significant development. but its a story about loneliness, about escaping the cycle, about finding your wings. this is not lightning's family, this isnt where he lands. he doesnt have christmas at ma's. you cant go home again- there's no one there for you and there never was. cps doesnt save you. you find yourself.

mostly this all comes from my fascination with lightning's mysterious origin. and frustration with it. what do you mean the only in-film lore we get is "i've been dreaming about it my whole life!" and "glen elen- my first win!". all his convoluted emotional shielding (for a minute there). he jumps at loud sounds and thinks someone is shooting at him. his natural jackass behavior even after he is 'reformed.' his clearly ignored mental health concerns. he drives me insane forreal. lightning mcqueen i will dissect you and put your parts spread out on a clean workbench you bitch. i will label and graph you in 4D space. im putting you in the bee centrifuge.

gonna cap this off with a recent sketch of donna. turns out corvettes are IMPOSSIBLE to draw, send help. more info about this timeperiod/my ocs are filed under the "origin fic era" and "my ocs" tags on this blog (mostly barren at this time though. will add more.). excited to refine these characters even more as time goes on!

thank you again for the ask!

[iloveyanderes]

part two of my last post

your eyes felt heavier then a boulder, currently they were impossible to open, instead of being disturbed by this, you instead went through the military regime that you were taught.

seeing if your okay by using all five of your senses

first lets try touch, you can’t move your limbs but you could feel, this is odd it feels like your on a really soft covers, to soft to be a hospital bed, your legs don’t feel completely paralyzed you must be under some sort of pain medication.

moving onto taste, you can open your mouth slightly and the oxygen is forced into your mouth, oh it’s a ventilator machine, if there’s one of these it’s more likely wherever you are is not dangerous, it is very good that you have an assistant with breathing.

smelling, the room smells quite nice, it reminds you of that time you went into a rich persons house to arrest them, the smell however is almost too overwhelming, it gives you the slightest of head aches.

Hearing, something is a bit off with your ears, it's very hard to hear out of them, maybe the blast of the bomb did something to them.

Last one sight, come on you can do this, open them open them- your eyes shot open only to immediately close them when the bright lights pierced your sight, slowly you dared to open them again, this time the lights were more gentle.

A few more blinks and you could see properly, look around you were right about the rich people smell, this entire place was decorated by pure gold and leather couches, did you get saved or abducted by a rich person?

The more you looked the more fancy the room got, what wasn't fancy was the little creature sitting on your bed.

Is that a racoon??

You and the racoon made eye contact, almost immediately it rubbed itself on your shoulder, oh my gods this thing was adorable.

Your body was covered by a large thick silky blanket, attempting to move your hands upward to pet the racoon but you were stopped by a stinging pain, oh right your arms and legs are burned.

What you didn't notice about this room yet was the scared looking fluffy brunette, what is he doing? Why did he look terrified?

"are you okay?" You asked him, he shot up from his hiding place, clearly flabbergasted, as if you merely talking to him was surprising.

Wtf? Getting the strength to sit up you do, he was even more surprised.

"wait!- no no! Your not supposed to get up yet!" He bolted across the room, pushing you back down on these unbelievably soft sheets.

Him touching you however made him go back to flabbergasted mode, "I'm so sorry!" He yelled out.

"wait no! It's okay, don’t freak out” you try to comfort him.

“I am not freaking out!” he almost yells at you, it’s not quite yelling, it’s more of a full blown panic attack.

“don’t to anything he says, he’s an introverted idiot” said a teasing voice that came from other side of the room, your face whips to look at the source of the voice.

oh crap, it’s that weirdo that tried to shoot you earlier, your normal clothes have been replaced so your knife is gone, you don’t have anything to threaten him with.

pretend to go for the attack but actually go for the run.

ripping an iv off of your arm you go with your plan, the guy instinctively prepares for the attack, last second you whip around him and your out in the hallway.

“wait! come back, your not healed yet-”he calls out, trying that strategy huh? not gonna work.

you must have been out for at least three days because your arms feel a lot better, your legs still sting a bit but that’s because your using them to run.

this place was far larger then you imagined, it was a lot bigger then a mansion the hallways felt endless but eventually you managed to find something that looked like an exit.

you manage to get three steps away from the exit, but then something weird wrapped itself around your body, are these grape vines?

then your lifted into the air, dangling upwards as more vines come to restrain you what the heck?

the guy who had tried to shoot you yesterday caught up with your new attack, looking downwards your new attacker has grapevines coming out of his shoulder, damn ability users.

needless to say you got thrown back into the room that you started in, this time one of your hands were handcuffed to the bed.

"I was abducted by rich people" you mumble, "great"

You lay down on the bed for at least five minutes before something else happened.

The door opened to reveal yet another blonde guy but this time he radiated rich.

"who are you?" You asked him, he simply smiled and pulls out a leather chair, then sits on it.

"feel free to call me Scott" he answered, smiling at you with the rich boy face.

"and why am I here?" This is the typical type of question when being faced with a kidnapping, what was not typical was what he said next.

"because your the reincarnation of my daughter" what the actual fuck, the flabbergasted feeling must have went to my face because he then started to monologue.

"I know, it's so hard to believe, I didn't believe it at first but the signs are all there, you have the same tone of voice, hair style, and taste in movies..." I don't know how long someone could rant about this but he went on forever, saying bullshit.

"are you done?" You finally got In, hoping to shut him up.

"ah yes, it seems your a lot stronger then you look, so where gonna have to keep you restrained in some way, hmm handcuffs seem good for now but where gonna have to move to something different soon.. perhaps sedatives?” oh hell no.

“just chain my foot or something” a chain is something that you can easily lockpick out of.

“that’s an amazing idea, your so smart just like my daughter!” he seemed very cheery, you on the other hand were not so happy.

‘that is a stupid idea, i’m a trained military official, you should be using way more then just chains’ you thought, though this is going towards your advantage, good.

after that he basically forced you to take a bath, no it wasn’t really force it was more of a gentle suggestion that eventually turned into a flat out you stink go fix it.

this guy had more hair products then your entire life worths, how many products does one man need?

his bathroom was disgustingly large, rich people always big.

chilling in the bathtub wasn’t bad it gave you a large amount of time to think, in a kidnapping situation thinking time is the most important, so this is valuable.

the best chance is to escape at night, the shadows from it hiding your presence, though he is rich enough to have over a hundred guards running around.

hmmm what to do...

“excuse me? miss name” said a voice from outside of the bathroom, someone you haven’t heard from yet.

“who are you” you asked, do maids still help rich people bath? this person sounded masculine so he wouldn’t open it right?

“my name is tecchou, i’m here to save you” he responded, almost instantly you chocked, water getting into your mouth.

the tecchou, the tecchou of the hunting dogs that you’ve idolized for so long, he of all people came to save you?

then the memory of being accepted into them came into your mind and you realized they must have been extremely worried when there new recruit went MIA.

you were too busy gathering all of your thoughts to realize the door was slowly opening.

“wait! don’t open that door” it stopped opening, thank god.

“why are you okay, are you being threatened" he immediately we the defense.

"no....it's because I'm naked" god that felt embarrassing moment say.

He stopped talking, "can you be...unnaked"

What the..... You know what your just going to stop questioning ever stupid thing that's happening to you.

"give me five minutes" he obliged, waiting patiently.

Quickly changing you notice that there is a tracker on the clothing score of had given you, you can probably get rid of these later, he may be powerful but he's not powerful enough to beat the hunting dogs.

Tecchou had managed to sneak in using one of the maid uniforms and disguising himself as a women, to you it was honestly kind of funny, though to him it must have been a horror.

If it was then his face didn't show it.

You were about to ask what the plan was but then you heard an explosion from the other end of the mansion.

'what is with people and explosions lately' you thought, clearly distressed.

"what was that!?" You yelled at tecchou, he looked dumbfounded for a moment.

"a distraction, I guess" he shrugged.

Opening the nearest window you prepare to hope out but you were stopped by tecchou.

"what?" You asked him wondering why he stopped you.

"it's to high up for you" what the? This was confusing because you've jumped down far greater heights, is it because of your injured legs? Well you gotta prove to him that you are more then capable.

Pushing him off of you, you fall backwards, doing a flip and landing perfectly on your feet.

"see, I can do it" you yelled at him, he frowned but jumped down too.

The two of you made it through the large forest that all rich people have right out of there houses for some reason.

"so what do we do next?" You ask once your outside the property, eager to do something for one of your idols.

he looked at you for a moment, “oh you really won’t be doing anything..”

about to ask what that means you let your guard down, a large force hit the back off your head and your were forced onto the ground.

but who attacked you? tecchou was right in front of you, you couldn’t turn around and yet again you found yourself passing out.

{another time skip, so sorry I keep using passing out as a plot device}

Once again your eyes opened, the place you were at felt way more familiar, this is a military bunker, you can tell by the dark lighting and the beds stacked up on top of each other.

Who the hell knocked you out?

Getting up you breath in and out, then before you can take another steady breath your suddenly tackled back onto the bed by a smaller but much stronger force then yourself.

"oh my god! It's so great to finally be able to meet you" said the voice of whoever had tackled you.

Looking down you saw a little girl with red hair, she looked to be about ten years old but something told you that she was much older then that, she clung to you like a koala.

"uh, nice to meet you too" you stammered out, patting the girls back, "where am I?"

"the hunting dogs hq" you nearly passed out again, isn't that like In another country? How long were you out?!

"then why did your subordinates feel the need to knock me out" the back of your head stings a bit.

"oh that was jouno, he's a pain in the ass"

Wait if you were with tecchou, and the guy you got knocked out was jouno, does this mean the little girl in front of you is.....

Wait a minute, this girl is...

Teruko Okura!

Oh my god, oh my god.

"are you okay??"

Immediately you bowed down, accidentally knocking her off of you, placing you hands right next to your thighs you begin to apologize.

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to recognize you, pls forgive me!" Getting killed by a queen feared even by her own allies is not an ideal situation, your only hope now was to beg for forgiveness.

Teruko did not say anything, you kept your forehead strictly on the bed so you couldn't see her facial expression, god this was nerve wrecking.

Then after what felt like forever teruko finally said something, "you know what would make me happy?"

You don't know, your organs spilling out? "No" you said.

Another painfull moment passed, "if we dance!" She grabs onto your arm and suddenly you shrink to the size of when you were 9.

What!? Looking at your body your a child again, what is going on!? Teruko spins you around and around, the weirdest form of dancing you've ever experienced.

"stop bullying her teruko" came a voice from someone who had just entered the room, it was harder to look at him because of your new size.

"but jouno!!! I wanna dance" teruko cried, for someone with such a terrifying reputation, she cries really easily.

And wait isn't this jouno the guy that knocked you out, before you had the chance to speak you were an adult again, it's pretty easy to assume that teruko had turned you back.

"your jouno right?" You asked, the white haired male with his eyes closed, he nodded.

"did you really have to knock me out?"

"of course, it gave tecchou something to do so I didn't have to talk to him" wow, using you to deal with his problems.

"okay.. so where are we now?"

"in france" wtf!!! They brought you all the way to France, isn't that illegal, what happened to consent!?

"I did not agree to this"

"I don't care" what an ass.

Teruko felt the need to butt into our conversation and your glad she did, "well forget about that, there something I realllly wanted to show you"

"oh that's cool, I'd love to see it" you follow teruko as she drags you somewhere.

(another time skip because I'm so close to finishing this fic)

A bright light came from the other side of the room, naturally you went to investigate though you were a lot more cautious because the last time you went to investigate something in the middle of the night a bomb exploded.

The light came from a computer and on it was someone you never expected.

"dazai?" You accidentally said outloud, looking around you made sure you hadn't waken anyone, luckily you hadn't.

Grabbing some headphones you turn on the speaker, "dazai what are you doing here" you asked hushly.

He looked serious, "listen name, I don't have much time but you need to get out of their was fast as you can, you need to hide from everyone in town"

"what do you mean?" Oddly enough you felt compelled to listen to dazai.

"the hunting dogs have already taken you to France, do you know where your they're"

"no"

"because Fyodor Dostoevsky is there, he wants you"

"what! Why?"

"I have very short time, just know your in danger you have to leave France as soon as possible" for some reason you believed him, the deepest part of your brain told you that he was telling the truth.

"understood, thank you so much for warning me" dazai nodded, you shut the chrome book off and immediately went for some money, there were most likely trackers on all of your clothing so you needed to find new ones, you also don't have your passport so your going to have to find some weird way outside of the country, maybe by water?

Heading into the hallway, you look left and right, no one so you should be good to go-

"where are you going" suddenly jouno was behind you.

"nowhere" you responded attempting to remain calm, but right next to the hunting dogs that was impossible.

"you didn't hear anything you weren't supposed to right?" Dear Xie lian his voice sounded terrifying.

"no" goddammit that no sounded bad.

"then why don't I believe you"

"because you have trust issues"

And that's how you found yourself being dragged all the way to the mightiest prison in the entire world, one that holds even the most powerful criminals.

You were thrown into a large dark room, it was a good five minutes before anything happened.

A light turned on to reveal the devil himself, Fyodor whose last name is to hard to spell and I don't want to.

He was sitting on a chair, without thinking you grabbed a strangely conveniently placed knife and started to stab him.

(you stabbed him for plot convince okay)

You did again and again, he never once screamed or attempted to stop you, it was odd.

Then the all the lights turned on at once, the Fyodor that you had stabbed wasn't there anymore, then a door from the side opened to reveal none of them the man himself, Fyodor ratlord.

"pleasant day isn't it name?"

"what?" You said in disbelief, "if your their...then who did I stab?"

"you should look at yourself" like he ordered you did look at yourself, you stared in shock as you saw at least 15 stab wounds on yourself.

"but??how" you stammered out, Fyodor went up to you and helped you lay down.

"shhh shh, don't bother talking I still need you to alive when I monologue about my love" he whispered into your ear.

"what did you do" you ask, defying him. Fyodor frowned.

"simple actually, I wanted you but you were halfway across the world so I brainwashed everyone so they'd eventually take you to me"

"but why"

"because I love you" how does that work! At this point you lost your ability to speak but Fyodor knew what you were going to say.

"love works in many different ways, sometimes it's peaceful but in my case it's rather destructive, I love you so much that I want to kill you"

The distress of dying finally hit you, tears ran down your face, you didn't want to die.

Seeing this Fyodor smiled his grin devilish, "don't worry name, I'll be joining you too"

"there's just some stupid dogs I need to take care off"

Then the cold embrace of death hit you, why did you ever even bother living in the first place.

Then end.

Authors note: wow, I did not mean to make this so angsty but it's kinda just the way it went, thanks so much for waiting this long and I'm so glad I finally finished it.

Have a good day!

[earlgreygirlfriend]

sunnflower content BIG POST 🌻

first of all, ao3 !! i really just wanted some good, nontoxic sunflower fanfiction because both sunny & basil deserve to be happy after the shit they've gone through! also, i wanted to feel better because BASIL IS CLEARLY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR SUNNY AND HE DOESNT KNOW IT (video by nerdy arty) hdjvhdjvhdn he JUST LIKE ME FR!!

ive categorized them by AU / canoncompliant with additional tags! completed fics are marked with 🌻, long fics (5k+ words) are marked with 💡

canon compliant:

Culinary Conversations by ShardOfHope💡

A Mug of Sundrops in a Wave of Sadness by karma_kalanchoe💡

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life by smiles2m

Suddenly, Sunny by diagnosed_shitposter

Bloom Later by witheredahlia💡

Catch a Glimmer of Your Star by UdonPuddle 🌻💡

au / mari lives:

Secondhand Sequitir by Soppypup💡🌻

He's Impossible by HowardR💡

to bask in your warmth by im_clo💡🌻

Flower Language by mirror_to_the_past💡

hmestwbf by ME (yes yours truly)

next up is yt animatics because uhhh idk i really like watching homo idiots!! i have 🕹️ that indicates the video depicts some omori plot involving spoilers for the game (the accident, angst, etc) or covers the entire game happening.

OMORI MV - Eine Kleine by Bear🕹️

Try Again by eggsoupery🕹️

OMORI MV - Love Me by white_tulips_

Nonsense Speaker by Nerdy Arty🕹️

in defense of sunflower: (major omori spoilers here cw!!)

why are people antagonizing them this badly? seriously i don't get it. they were children when the accident happened and gameplay shows that both of them got shittons of trauma

"what the hell were you guys thinking when you decided to ship two mentally unstable teenagers that participated in the same manslaughter??"

it was an accident. looking at the incident, i firmly believe it was very seriously fucked up, and they weren't in the right state of mind when it happened. consider the situation, the person you love most in the world is gone forever. in this situation, sunny completely closes in on himself and creates headspace. basil on the other hand sees sunny (his childhood best friend and the one he describes as 'perfect' and puts on a pedestal) completely having a mental breakdown. basil panics, not knowing what to do, because both of the people he idolize are gone - mari is dead, a part of sunny died with her. obviously he has a mental breakdown figuring out what to do, too?

obviously we should also consider basil's mental state at this point - pure speculation here, but basil, due to his feminine gender expression, would have been a victim of bullying, and the gang would have been his first friends. and basil photographs things he cherishes. that would mean he sees himself losing his friends when mari dies because sunny is most likely gonna be legally convicted of manslaughter right? in his disoriented, panicked mind, he wanted to protect sunny, the friend he most likely did have feelings for but was unable to admit them due to already being bullied, (that's just my hc dw) and did something that is super fucked up — he did more harm than good, but i believe he was just trying to fix everything back the way it was. we're absolutely going to talk about why Basil knows how to tie a noose, which adds to my point — basil might already have been mentally unwell (no doubt taking more shit from life than one is supposed to) BEFORE he met his friends, and he was desperately trying to salvage what little happiness he had left.

i cannot deny that sunnflower has full potential of being a very unhealthy and toxic relationship, but i might add that the true + secret ending has both Somethings disappear, implying that both of them are capable of healing. thats why i ship them manyyearsafter-canon or AU, bc therapy can fix shit ive seen it myself

ill end this little rant by a comment from j0kerclash on reddit:

Pairing them together is the implication that they are able to completely heal from their trauma, the actual dynamics of their relationship isn't toxic, it was the circumstances of their interactions combined with the context of the event itself. Sunny and Basil aren't permanently fucked up, I'd say it's quite harmful to imply that people are forever broken and can never truly recover. Considering the choices in the game are about confronting, accepting, and moving on from guilt and trauma, the best scenario for both Sunny and Basil, is if they were truly able to let go and not become triggers for each other, which is illustrated by them being unaffected by the potential toxicity of their past.

sorry for the rant! here are some links also defending the ship

if you enjoyed, i also have another sunflower headcannon post

from diagnosed_shitposter

idfk how to link the original text im sorry

this

[cupoftaae]

Forever And A Day (KTH x READER) series ♡ Francis Forever (chapter 17)

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni!!!)

word count- 5k

warnings- swearing, angst, mentions of miscarriage, confused feelings, some kissing (some smut not really its like 2 seconds), REALLY EMO

a/n- guys....we have reached the final chapter of Forever And A Day, oh my god. Ive worked on this story since January, its very dear to me, Thank you for everyone who tagged along. I love you so much! there will still be an Epilogue posted as well. Enjoy the chapter angels

-nini

Your feet led you down to the kitchen, where your mom was currently cleaning.

"hi honey" she mumbled, not turning around to see you as she scrubbed the top of the stove.

"hey.." you walk over, opening the fridge and looking for something to snack on. Granted- there was something made for breakfast but you hadn't woken up until 12pm. Technically, it was now lunch.

"do you want me to make you something?"

You peer over to your mom whos putting things away in the storages

"no thats okay" you grab a sleeve of crackers from the cabinet and some cream cheese, opting to sit at the kitchen island with your sad "meal"

"thats not lunch, missy" your mother scolded as she turned to you finally

"meh" you shoved the cracker in your mouth as you watched her grab her coat from the hanger. "where are you going?" you spoke with a full mouth.

"I have to run to the store"

"didnt you just go the other day?"

Your mom peered over her shoulder, waiting a moment "yes...but, I forgot to grab...uh....planter feed, for my little window plants" she nodded over in the direction of them.

"okay....can I come?" you mumble, throwing another dry cracker into your mouth.

"no" she laughed, making you look up

"what, why?"

"because" she began to ramble "well...I love you but Ive spent every minute with you this week, its good to be alone for a few hours"

You raised an eyebrow as if you didnt believe her.....because you didnt. "okayyy..." your voice dragged out

"ill be back in no time, no worried dear." she grabbed her bag and walked to the door, "ill bring you back a coffee" she winked as she left.

Once you heard the door lock, you stood up, licking the cream cheese off your fingers.

why was she in such a hurry to be gone?

Your feet wandered over to the little plant cabinet she had, opening it to see a freshly stocked basket of soil feed packets. Of course she was lying.

She was probably looking for an excuse to see that guy shes been talking to for months now. Why would she lie though? does she think you couldn't handle it?

Chosing to ignore it, you picked up her cat and made your way upstairs to your room, sitting down at your desk.

These days you werent out much, last time you saw other people was 2 days ago when you went to go grab the mail from the mailbox in the pouring rain. Nonetheless, you still loved to get yourself dolled up as if you were going out.

You applied some makeup, carefully drawing out your eyeliner to a sharp point. The way you applied your face could be compared to how you applied yourself to everything else in life- strict and neat, and you hated when you had a smudge

You pushed through your makeup bag, searching for a certain lipstick that you are now realizing you left back in Paris.

"that was $20" you sigh, standing up to wander to your moms room. Surely she has something to use, shes always been one to paint her face, she used to let you play "makeover" when you were young, which might be why you love it so much now. It was always enjoyable, even if you made her look like a clown a bit.

You wondered where she would keep her makeup, as it wasnt in her bathroom. A quick scan around the room brought you over to her vanity drawers.

"ahh, there we go" you happily looked at all of the collective lipsticks and palettes sprawled out in front of you. You grasped a few of them to look for one you would use, when your eyes fell onto a folder underneath all it.

Pulling it out and carefully looking inside, because you were snoopy even with your mothers belongings, you saw what appeared to be a booklet of Polaroid photos.

You giggled softly at the cute older photos of your mom when she was younger, the silly gestures in the photos reminded you that she too is human and has her own emotions.

You came across a specific one in the pile where your mom was looking out the window in her old apartment, obviously pregnant.

that was you.

Smiling softly, you slid through the last bits before picking up one that made your breath hitch.

Your dad.

She still kept every photo. Hidden.

Photos of your dad sitting on the deck of the house with newborn you resting on his chest, photos of him not knowing your mom was even there while he did tiny activities, like fixing or repainting something.

It was so real and so raw, and you wanted to criticize your mother for keeping all of these, because as you looked at his face, you felt nothing but anger.

But you had to remember she spent a majority of her life with him...she had a kid with him....and you almost felt a sense of sympathy for her and the life she thought she would have with him.

He ruined so many things and even after all of that, she cant toss the photos.

Its never really over, huh?

-

You knew deep down that you should've respected your moms privacy and left the room, considering you were only on the look for a lipstick.

But you found yourself still digging an hour later, looking at photos and notes and everything in between. In a way, you felt like the snooping mom looking into her daughters room.

Perhaps you shouldnt have, but you took one of the photos and kept it for yourself. It was of your mom, she had to have been your age in it, and she was standing in front of the old ice cream place she always took you to before it got demolished.

She looked so happy and pure, she had that gleam in her eyes that you struggle to find in her nowadays.

You put the photo into your bag, making sure it was flat and not bent.

With any lesson learnt from your parents, its that your biggest fear is to spend your life in the wrong situation, trying to make it work only for it to end up as the opposite, and leave you with a broken heart.

But on the other hand, you also realize that you dont want to be like your mom, although you admire and adore her, you want to find your place so desperately, and not let any opportunity go to waste.

The doorbell downstairs rang, startling you a little as you rose to your feet, trying to head down quickly.

"coming!" you shout, your bare feet leading you to the locked door. You open it and see a young man with a pizza in his hand. "oh!"

He bows his head polietly, "Hi, pizza for Y/N?"

You almost laugh, "ah...I didnt order anything?"

you thought for a moment and considered that your mother probably ordered it for you, knowing that your choice of meal this morning was crackers and cream cheese.

"its already paid for" he spoke again

"im sorry but-" you sigh "okay....thanks?" you reach out, almost burning your hands at how warm the box was. You dropped it off on the kitchen counter and looked at it.

It was cheese and bacon, your favorite, how did your mom know that?

"should I trust this?" you looked down at the cat crawling over your feet, she smelled the yummy food just above and was trying to access it.

Before you could grab your phone to call her, you heard the doorbell ring again. "seriously...?"

once more, your feet dashed you over as you opened the door, assuming it would be another delivery. You dropped your phone onto the floor as the person standing in front of you turned around.

"I hope you are open to sharing that pizza" Taehyung spoke quietly, a small smile on his face.

"what are you doing here....?" you looked at him like a deer in headlights; scared, relieved, shocked, happy all in one.

He calmed his expression and stepped a bit closer, "can I come in?"

You stepped back and thought for a moment

"please....?" he persisted

"y-yeah..yeah come in" you stepped away and watched him slowly enter the house, taking his shoes off before turning back to you. He didnt have a moment to speak before you threw yourself into his chest, wrapping him up into a tight hug.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you closer as both of your breathing became uneven.

"i-im so sorry...i missed you a lot and I havent texted and, fuck, youre here and im so-"

"shhh...shhh" his hand held your nape as you looked at you, forehead against yours, "dont apologize its okay"

"but-"

"no...lets just go sit down and talk" he whispered, rubbing your back.

You exhaled shakily "okay"

You led him over to the kitchen, still in absolute shock at the fact he is here with you right now. All of the guilt began to seep back in the moment you saw his face.

You took a seat at the counter and looked at him, the sun peaking in through the blinds, leaving stray lines of orange through the room.

He smiled and looked around, pulling the seat out next to you as he sat down.

"So.." you looked at him, swallowing harshly. "wh-"

"your mom called me" he spoke honestly, sitting down and shielding the sun with his hand. "I was worried sick about you, I cant lie"

Yep. Guilt.

"and I didnt wanna bother you, but she called me and said that you wanted to see me so..." he smirked a little, looking down.

You sigh loudly, "oh tae.....i never told her to tell you to come...."

He laughed, throwing his head back "ah I figured sort of...I knew you would have probably texted me yourself"

You nod, stomach fluttering at the sound of his amusement. "yeah..'m sorry for not texting, that was really shitty of me Tae"

"dont apologize, youve gone through a lot, I understand its not easy to jump back in yet...and thats okay." he whispered "but...how are you? what are you feeling?"

"right now? im....im honestly really happy you showed up...."

"yeah?"

You nod, "mhm, i, er, missed you" you fumbled with your words, not wanting to sound needy or desperate.

"I missed you too" his response was quick.

you both looked at eachother for a few moments silently, before you spoke up, "you ordered that pizza, didnt you?"

He began to laugh, "yeah I did"

"I knew my mom wouldnt know I liked bacon...." you giggled, he moved a little closer and smiled.

"and listen, im not here to course you to coming back to Busan, I just wanted to come check on you...because you know I love you always"

You felt your face heat up, "I know...I know tae, I love you too."

"how are you physically?" he spoke quietly

Shrugging, you answered truthfully, "I think Im okay....my body is beginning to go back to normal, so....."

"good, thats good" he nods

"mhm...im glad I have my mom, but I really did miss having you nearby, and I know you dont want to hear it but I have to say it" you mumbled

"you can talk, y/n"

"im so sorry...for everything....its not fair-"

"but-"

"just listen please, its not fair...what I did to you, and I shouldnt have left, that was so shitty to leave you back in Paris knowing you were hurting too"

His face softened

"and what I did has been haunting me so much that I was afraid to contact you in fears you resented me....in fears that perhaps you hated me now-" your voice choked

"y/n, no, no," he grabbed your hands, "I could never hate you....never ever" he whispered moving to see your eyes, "listen to me, It was a bad situation, and perhaps we could have done better, yes, but stop apologizing for dealing with grief."

He wiped the tear stain on your cheek, holding your face close to his, whispering, "does your mom still have popsicles in the freezer?"

The random question made you laugh, "what?"

"this is serious, y/n, does she?"

"I- I think?" you stood and watched him search, successfully finding them. "why?"

He smirked, "you know why" he grabbed 2 and held your hand, bringing you upstairs to your room, opening the window and climbing out to the ledge of the roof

A place you two always sat during your high school days...with popsicles.

"ohh...." you giggled, now understanding his method to the madness.

"been a longgg time since we sat here, why didnt we do it when we visited a few months ago?" he smiled, opening the wrapper and licking the watermelon pop

"Im not sure..." you opened your own, happy that the sun wasn't directly on you two anymore.

Taehyung laid back against the roof, eyes on you from behind. Its been so long since hes seen you, and with every passing day he grew more impatient.

When he got the phone call from your mom, he knew it was mostly her doing, but he was not about to pass up a free opportunity to see you, even knowing the risk of you despising him was still high.

He wanted to call you beautiful, the way the orange sky illumintaed on your skin, it blended perfectly, it was straight out of a disney Princess movie.

He had no clue as to what label you two stood as, was it okay to call you baby? there was never an official breakup. Was it too much to want to kiss you as soon as he saw your face? his body yearned for you in every way, he missed the feeling of your hand in his and your body on his chest at night.

He missed all of you, and it hasnt even been that long.

"you know..." he began, closing his eyes, "Im starting to think im a bit too dependent on you" his voice was teasing,

"why do you say that?" you looked back at him, licking the popsicle.

He shrugged, smirking, "just cant seem to stay away...."

"i dont understand you" you laugh, looking forward again. "ive been such an ass, Taehyung"

"youre not an ass you just feel things deeply and I love that about you"

"is this some kind of kink?" you joke, watching him laugh

"maybe?"

You shake your head as you continue to eat the pop, "I dont shame"

He looked up at the sky, glaring at a plane flying across. He wondered if you two could be seen from the window.

He wondered how tiny and insignificant you would appear to the passengers aboard, who had no idea what situation you both were dealing with, like how he didnt know what they were dealing with.

Life is weird like that.

What problems you have and seem huge may seem meaningless to others, or how from space, you are the size of a grain of salt. It puts things into perspective, and over the past few weeks, hes been thinking about everything deeply and truly....deciding that although it may change nothing, seeing you was the best option.

"Tae?" you spoke, noticing how quiet he got

"remember when we were 16 and it was Easter? My family was over with yours, and you and I climbed up here after dinner and tried to smoke my dads cigarettes for the first time?" he laughed at the memory

You smile, "I smoked it wrong and began to choke"

You both were giggling again now

"you almost swallowed it, how does one fuck up smoking so badly?"

You nudge him, "hey!"

He shrugged, still smiling

"you are quite the smoker yourself now, huh?"

"I grew up with him smoking so yeah, I sort of picked up on it"

You nod, listening

"you hate it though, right?" he smirked

"well you are a grown man, you can chose to do as you please"

"oh cmon dont play coy, you know you would never give up a chance to scold me for it"

"yeah youre right" you sigh at his knowingness "I worry about your lungs!" you tease

"my lungs are okay" he smiled as you laid down on the roof next to him, the sun casting both of your shadows behind you.

"you dont know that!"

"trust baby, if anything was wrong youd be the first to know"

You froze after he called you baby, it wasn't like you two had been gone for years, but neither of you had been lovey in over a month, it felt almost foreign, almost wrong.

He wasnt going to apologize, it did slip, but did he regret it?

nope.

His eyes scanned over yours, softly and lovingly as he moved his hand over your hair, pushing it out of your eyes.

You stared at him, an expression reading shock. He pulled away slightly

"am I making you uncomfortable?" he seemed worried that he stepped too far, scaring you.

"n-no!" you spoke, reaching for his hand. "it just feels odd you know? its not you, its just...."

"been a while" he finished for you

"yeah..."

You still felt safe with him, how could you not?

You didnt want him to make the assumption that you were not okay with his touch anymore, because that definitely was not the case.

You slowly cuddled closer to him, both of you laid on your backs as your head rested on his shoulder, his head leaning against yours.

Both of your lips were painted pink and red from the popsicles, it made you smile.

The sky above you two seemed so big, so endless.

Staring at it was almost frightening.

You reached for his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, he quickly squeezed yours out of affection.

"ahh..." he spoke up suddenly, voice quiet. "I shouldnt.....I shouldnt have taken you to Paris"

You looked up at him

"maybe the plane ride was too much? maybe your body couldnt handle the stress?" he exhaled shakily, eyes still up at the sky. "Im sorry...I really am"

"you dont have to apologize for anything" you turned your body on your side so you faced him, though he still wouldn't look at you.

"hey.." you tried again, "you know, my mom told me she also miscarried when I was 3 years old...and thats why she never had kids after me"

He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand

"So I guess its runs in the family.....not our fault" you shrugged, "Its breaks my heart but...we dont have to blame ourselves"

He turned his head to your finally at the sound of your voice cracking, He brought you closer to his chest, hand rubbing your back. Taehyung swallowed harshly, clearing his throat to talk quietly "I've been...having a hard time dealing with it.

You rested your hand on his chest, looking at him sympathetically. His eyes were now watery, it took a lot to not cry yourself.

Youve already cried.

Youve cried so much

Perhaps you were now accepting the miscarriage for what it was, you were even able to say it aloud now, and thats growth.

You wished the same for Taehyung.

"that's okay, too" you whisper, hand snaking around to brush his hair between your fingers behind his head.

His eyes went back up to the now purple sky, tears reflecting the image in front of you. "do you think they are up there?" he smiled softly, rubbing your back still.

You look up at the sky, the clouds creating a beautiful set up as the sun set behind them. The world felt blanketed and secured in this moment, almost safe.

"yeah" you whisper, squeezing his hand, "but they are also here...with us, you know?"

He looks at you, tear marks on his face as you move to wipe them with your sleeve. "I think we will always be parents, that cant change. I feel that connection so deeply, and I know you do too. They arent gone, they just arent in this world" you add.

Taehyung smiled softly at your words, nodding slowly, "yeah....yeah youre right"

His thumb runs over your knuckles, calming you both down.

"I cant get myself to get rid of anything...like the stuff we bought." you mumble, looking down at your hands.

He chuckled, "mmh, you dont have too."

You sighed and looked at him again, a warm blush coating your cheeks.

"you know...I dont give you enough credit" he spoke "youve been through so much"

"Tae..." you brush his hair back, "youve given me everything....we need to look ahead...the past cant be changed."

He slides his hand under the hem of your shirt, touching the soft skin on your hip bone. It wasn't promiscuous or anything, simply an act of love and affection, silently showing you he's here and is listening.

"Im really sad" he choked out

You hugged him close as he began to cry into your shoulder

"its okay baby, its okay....its okay to be sad, you dont have to be strong for me" your hand caressed his back. "I love you so much, please know that"

He took a moment to calm down before pulling back to look at you, "y-youre right....we do need to look forward now"

You nod softly, holding his face.

You were a little worried to see him in this state, you didnt know he was feeling this and keeping it down for so long.

All you could do was comfort him and be there.

"I just.....are we still...." he trailed off, making you smile as you cupped his face again, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly.

"mm" you slowly leaned forward to kiss him

It was a nice kiss, not too slow but not too fast, just what was needed after a month of distance and no contact.

He blushed brightly, holding you as he whispered, "do you think we could start over? I really want to treat you right, and I want this to work. We can work it out right? the correct way this time?" his voice wavered

You nodded, still looking at him "yes....we can try again, the right way" you giggled as he leaned forward to kiss you again, this time a little quicker.

He bit your bottom lip, hands gently squeezing your hips

"baby-" you exhaled into his mouth, gently pulling back to look at him. "maybe we shouldnt"

"why?" he frowned, almost looking like a little kid

"well for starters we are on my roof" you giggled, sitting up

Taehyung smiled and looked around

"and....I dont know...sex is what brought us this mess" you teasingly nudged him, making him laugh. "lets just be with eachother for a little bit and let our feelings lead us to what happens"

He sighed, knowing you were right. "okay....can I still cuddle you though?" he whispered, making you coo at his cuteness.

"of course, lets go"

You slowly led him back into your room off the roof, closing the window before settling down on the bed with him. "when are you going back to Busan?"

He held you, face hidden in your neck "maybe in a few days...I dont want to leave you yet if thats okay"

"okay...thats fine, but, I think I'll head back with you...."

He smiled, rubbing your back "yeah?"

"mm" you kissed his head, closing your eyes.

You were still healing. To say you fully recovered was not true, but as you sat in his arms things felt normal again, even if it would be temporary.

Perhaps you needed to be with him to fully heal, to fully be yourself. Taehyung was your other half, and he knew you better than anyone. To give this another chance is like a breath of fresh air.

Putting your pasts behind you in hopes of feeling happiness again, in hopes of both of you becoming better people for each other.

Taehyung doesnt want to leave you, ever, and you cant say you want him to.

You dont spend half of your life with someone then let them run away just because things go downhill.

If your father was in your presence, you would teach him this lesson.

When you love someone, you hold their hand and walk through hard times together, you dont let them leave over something that both of you know you would need eachother's support for. To think- you almost let him out of your grasp, you almost lost him.

And Taehyung loved you so much...that if you asked him to leave....he would have.

You dont know what the future entails, and yes, its fucking terrifying. Life is scary, theres ups and downs, and suprises and failure, but theres also a lot of love, and happiness, and success if you look hard enough.

You do hope one thing for sure, and thats that he will be at your side as you grow up, to be there when you are right and wrong, healthy or sick, happy or sad.

As you both began to pick up the pieces of what was broken, you appreciated the past, knowing you had to let it go, but it also brought you here, back into where you feel most safe.

You renovated the apartment and turned the Nursery into a craft room for Taehyungs painting. He kept all of the baby belongings in the closet, hoping for the day in the future when he would open it again and feel that sense of excitement but nervousness.

You continued work and college classes, pursuing your acting career that youve always wanted, and when you graduated, Taehyung would never let you forget how much he admired you.

He kissed your neck softly, his hand pressed into yours as he hovered above you, "so beautiful, my love...."

you bit your lip before exhaling a shaky moan "ohh..f-fuck"

"so smart....youre so perfect baby, I love you"

He kissed you gently, still moving his hips against yours as you held him close to you, fluttering your eyes shut.

things had settled into place once again.

Taehyung got offered a job as an art teacher at the college you graduated from, taking the full time position while you worked at the local theatre, producing and preforming sold out plays every weekend.

The saving money part was hard for him, he wanted to buy you anything you laid your eyes on.

"did you seriously buy the couch?!" you tossed your bag, running from the doorway to the living room to see the grey couch you had pointed out shopping with him literally the day prior.

He shrugged, "yeah...whats the big deal?"

"taehyung!" you giggled and hugged him.

He was too spontaneous for his own good.

A few years passed, and looking at your current life now, you would not believe how much had changed. You can say for the first time in a while you felt happy...and oh what an exciting and freeing feeling that was.

"I love youuuu! my baby!!!!!" taehyung danced around on the icy sidewalk outside of your apartment door, it was new years eve and he was drunk.

very...very drunk.

He pointed at you as he sang, "my babyyyy! woo!"

You giggled, sitting on the steps and recording your man child boyfriend whom you loved so much. "baby be careful dont sl-"

too late.

He fell on his ass, laughing so hard he almost puked, which of course made you laugh too.

"cmon ya big baby" you ran over and helped him inside. Midnight had already passed earlier, pre-drunk taehyung had danced with you around the living room, gifting you a small kiss once the clock read midnight.

"hm, I dont get it, whats so different about a new years kiss? its like every other one?" you laughed after his lips left yours.

"well its special because I get to be the first to kiss you in the new year" he smiled cheekily

"tae...your the only one who gets to kiss me any year" you point at him

"damn right" he snaps his fingers at you as he walks past into the other room.

Every holiday you spent with him felt special, every event, every grocery run, it all felt so much more authentic now.

You two were in your mid twenties now, and a lot of mental growth had come along with that. With pride, you can say you were better people than before, and thats why things worked so well.

You could easily live like this forever.....

it was basically an endless sleepover with your best friend. You were okay if you could come home and see his face waiting for you on the couch.

Your sweet boy.

You had no idea what was gonna happen next, whether that was marriage, or another attempt at having kids- you felt ready.

Ready to give him anything he wanted in return for him saving you.

You could do anything, be anywhere or anyone, in good or bad conditions, and you will still only crave him.

Your lover.

You want him for months

for years

for eternity...

For Forever And A Day.

And God knows he felt the same.

-

A/N- wow guys....this is it....I cannot thank you enough for reading my first story on here, im not perfect at writing but you guys keep me motivated and confident in my work, and I love you for that. This will not be the end of this couple, we still have the Epilogue as well as eventual drabbles.

You guys are amazing. ily.

-Nini

taglist-

@turnthepageandbeburnt @taebangtanbabe @borahaexoxo @lelefoodlover @tan-veee

[glennjaminhow]

Nuts

The ER is packed.

Thanks to Mac’s hideously grotesque features and labored breathing, they get to cut in front of all the other bozos with broken arms and screaming babies. It’s a good thing too because Dennis isn’t sure how much longer he can stand the distorted, puffy face or the Godawful wheezing. The face is one thing; he looks like a monster, but he’s still Mac underneath all the swelling. But the wheezing is another story. He doesn’t like it. It’s loud and annoying and generally unpleasant, and it makes him want to rip his hair right out of his skull.

He wouldn’t look good bald. Everyone knows this.

Dennis attempts to read the news on his phone, but he can’t focus on it. He has a massive headache building right behind his eyes. The lights are too bright, and the constant repetitive noises from the emergency room weigh heavily on him. Instead, he leans back in an uncomfortable plastic chair and rubs his forehead with trembling, cold fingers. He concentrates on keeping his breathing even and deliberate.

He can’t lose it now.

Mac needs him.

The dude’s a Goddamn idiot for continuing to eat those Fancy Nuts.

Some doctor gives Dennis the lowdown, informing him that Mac will have to spend the night here on oxygen with periodic albuterol treatments. He’s got an IV pumping him full of antihistamines to relieve the worst of his symptoms. An allergy test was performed on Mac like he’s some kind of lab rat. The test confirmed that he’s allergic to both peanuts and tree nuts.

Apparently, allergies can develop over time and with age.

As soon as he hears the word ‘age,’ Dennis cuts the doc off.

Mac’s got an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. The horrendous swelling is nearly gone. He stares at Dennis with droopy, bloodshot eyes. Mac reaches out with his free hand – the one without the IV and pulse ox attached to it – and smiles unevenly. Dennis takes it and rubs his thumb over red knuckles.

There’s a piercing shriek followed by a strange flushing noise off to their right. Dennis flinches hard, drawing his shoulders up and hunching in on himself. He shakes his head and tries not to scream. Of course these idiots wouldn’t give Mac a private room. Of course he’s stuck out here with the loonies. Of course. When the sound happens again, he bites his tongue so hard it trickles blood inside his mouth.

Mac must notice because he gently squeezes Dennis’ hand.

And no. Just no. Dennis should be the one comforting Mac, not the other way around.

“How’re you feeling?” Dennis asks quietly. He takes a seat in the chair behind him; he doesn’t let go of Mac's hand.

Mac clears his throat. “’m ‘kay. Wanna g’home.” His voice is garbled, thin and painful.

Dennis nods. “I know, bud, but you gotta stay here tonight. The doctors wanna make sure your breathing is okay.”

“M’breathing’s…” Mac wheezes and inhales sharply. “Great.”

He’s about to roll his eyes, but then that fucking shriek-flush happens again, and, Jesus Christ, is someone actively dying on the shitter? The noise makes his skin crawl. He wants to yell. Scream until he’s blue in the face because how dare some toilet-screaming psychopath interrupt Mac’s healing process. Don’t they know he’s suffering from an extreme allergic reaction? Don’t they know he needs to rest and recover? Don’t they know that SCREAMING in a fucking HOSPITAL should be outlawed? God forbid HE be the one screaming.

And he can feel himself slipping. Slipping back into the old Dennis. The old Dennis who absolutely would scream back at a moment’s notice. The old Dennis who isn’t on a cocktail of mood stabilizers to help calm him down. The old Dennis who doesn't listen to reason. The old Dennis who isn’t going to therapy once a week to try and sort out this… his… issues.

He doesn’t want to be that guy anymore. He’s… He’s evolved. He’s…

“You’re okay, Den,” he hears Mac whisper. “You’re good.”

Dennis bites his bottom lip. Nods. Looks into Mac’s swollen brownie eyes. He’s supposed to be here for Mac, but he isn’t doing that. He’s too focused on the hospital making its noises. He’s gotta focus his time, his energy, om keeping Mac safe. On making Mac feel better.

He swallows thickly. Rubs the back of his neck. Takes a deep breath.

“Do you need anything?” Dennis asks. He tries not to acknowledge the faintness of his own voice.

Mac shakes his head. “Jus’ you.”

Dennis rubs his thumb over Mac’s knuckles again and leans back in his seat.

He isn’t going anywhere.

~

Morning comes, but not quickly enough.

Mac’s woken up in regular intervals throughout the night for breathing treatments. Dennis doesn’t sleep, his nerves raw. The shriek-flushing eventually stops, but the constant beeping from monitors and the rustling of sheets and curtains floods his brain. It’s too much. It’s just too much. But he knows there’s an end in sight.

The doctors discharge Mac around 8:30, after a hellish 18 hours of hospitalization. He’s prescribed two EpiPens for the nut allergies, along with extra strength Benadryl and an inhaler for the leftover side effects of anaphylaxis. Dennis elects himself in charge of the EpiPens, which Mac is okay with in his exhausted state. There’s no way he can trust Mac to hold onto something so vital, so crucial to his safety. Mac never worries about himself; he’s always more concerned with Dennis. That’s not gonna fly here. No, Dennis will oversee the EpiPens, just like how Mac oversees Dennis’ eating schedule.

Mac is shaking as Dennis loads him into the passenger seat of the Range Rover. He grabs the plushy blue blanket from the trunk – the one Mac put there for cold mornings and nights during their work commute – and drapes it over Mac, who instantly melts into the fabric. Dennis smiles sadly as Mac buries his face in the quilt. Within seconds of putting the Rover in drive, Mac is sound asleep, wheezing slightly with his chin dipped to his chest. The thirty minute ride is silent, just quiet enough to begin thawing out Dennis’ knotted nerves.

He’s pulling into a parking space at their apartment when Mac coughs himself awake. It’s riddled with mucus, but somehow empty sounding at the same time. He doubles over, saliva pooling on his Dickies. Dennis immediately reaches out and rubs his back, wincing at the redness of Mac’s face, the harshness of his breathing, the heat bleeding through his jacket. When it’s obvious this coughing fit isn’t subsiding on its own, Dennis pulls the inhaler out of his jeans and presses down on the canister once Mac is ready for it. The medicine seems to help quickly. Mac breathes easier and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks, Den…”

“Let’s just get you up to bed, pal.”

Dennis is not Mac, meaning that Dennis cannot carry Mac. He has too much mass. And excuse him for not wanting to live in the gym and look like some kind of huge freak. He’s svelte and lithe, and, okay, maybe he has lost some weight recently, a loss he’s trying to hide with slightly oversized flannels, but that doesn’t concern anyone. But what does concern him right now is that, fuck, maybe he should’ve been working out more to prepare for emergencies like this. Maybe he should’ve been tacking on mass too instead of getting rid of it.

Maybe then he’d be able to help his buddy out of this jam.

“C’mon, Mac,” Dennis grunts, as he shoulders most of his roommate’s weight. Mac leans heavily against him as they walk inside their apartment building, an arm wrapped sluggishly around Dennis’ neck. He’s beyond grateful for their service elevator at moments like these. They don’t typically use it, not unless they’re carrying a shit ton of groceries or liquor, but it turns out to be a saving grace. Dennis unlocks the door in one swift motion with Mac wobbling and sticking to him like glue.

It’s then that Dennis realizes they have a problem. A big problem.

Their bed is filled with Fancy Nuts. Dennis remembers sleeping on them – or with them? – a couple days ago, back when he and Charlie weren’t sure Mac was gonna pull through this.

“Just… Just sit here for a few minutes,” Dennis says, gently pushing Mac down into the pink inflatable chair.

Mac shakes his head. His brown eyes swell with tears. “Wanna go to bed, Den…”

“I know, baby boy. But I gotta clean our bed.”

A couple tears stream down Mac’s cheeks; Dennis wipes them away.

“Don’t feel good…” Mac whines, hiccupping messily.

Dennis’ insides clench.

He presses a kiss to Mac’s temple and runs his fingers through his hair for good measure. Mac sniffles and leans into the touch.

“I’ll be quick, okay? I just gotta change the sheets and sweep the floor.”

He should mop too, but he can do that later, once Mac is safely tucked into bed.

“You’re slow as shit at everything though,” Mac whimpers.

Dennis rolls his eyes. He removes the nut-filled sheets, blankets, and pillowcases and tosses them into the trash. He can’t handle if anything else happens to Mac, so he isn't taking any chances. He checks all the nooks and crannies of their inflatable couch-bed for nut dust. He sweeps their floor and puts their bed back together again. By the time Dennis is finished, he’s sweating, and Mac has his head in his hands, hunched in on himself and trying not to cry.

“Bedtime,” he whispers as he coaxes Mac up by his elbow.

Mac obliges wordlessly. He stumbles a little bit, catches his balance, and plops face-first into bed. He quickly rolls onto his back when he realizes he still can’t breathe for shit. He pants and coughs dryly. Dennis yanks his boots off and pulls the covers up to his shoulders. He’s about to go sit at the kitchen table to read and try to fully calm himself down when Mac grabs his forearm with clammy fingers.

“Don’t go…”

Dennis sighs and scrubs a hand down his now stubbly cheeks.

“Fine,” he huffs.

He toes off his shoes and lies down on the bed. Mac immediately moves until his head is on Dennis’ chest. Dennis tenses up at first but quickly relents once he realizes how comfortable – how safe – he feels. It doesn’t take long before his eyes start to get heavy and flutter. He tries to stay awake, just in case Mac needs anything, but he gives in not longer after Mac drapes an arm over his middle.

Dennis’ eyes droop closed, surrounded by warmth and peace.

~

The next morning, it’s obvious that Mac still feels like shit.

The dude may have slept most of the day away yesterday, only waking up to take medicine and piss, but he’s still really out of it. He can’t string more than a few words together before he’s zapped of energy for the next several hours, unable to do anything other than lay in bed.

Dennis finally convinces him to take a shower, brush his teeth, and get comfortable, from which Mac emerges soaked to the bone, unable to even dress himself. Dennis gets him into boxers and a baggy t-shirt, has him brush his teeth in bed, and bundles him in blankets. Mac is furiously hot to the touch; Dennis wonders if this could possibly get any worse.

He doesn’t like it when Mac is under the weather. He hates it, if he’s being honest. Mac is such a constant force in his life that him not being annoying is actually more annoying than him being annoying. When Mac is sick, he gets all quiet and mopey. He loses his spark and falls into himself. He will neglect his wellbeing in favor of sitting around with a dangerously high fever or coughing up his lungs until his face turns blue. Last December, Mac caught the flu from Dennis, and he had to be dragged to the hospital because his fever was so high and wouldn’t go down no matter what Dennis tried.

Dennis cleans their apartment from top to bottom while Mac sleeps. He gets rid of every single food item containing peanuts and/or tree nuts, including his own favorite brand of peanut butter. If he wants it in the future (which is unlikely given Mac’s new allergies), he can hide it in his dresser like he does with his cigarettes and razor blades. He tosses out protein bars, miniature Reese’s cups, peanut butter crackers, and almond milk. He isn’t even sure if almonds are a tree nut, but he is sticking to being safe rather than sorry.

He sweeps again and mops every room. He dusts, does several loads of laundry, and wipes every surface. He doesn’t want to take any chances. He can’t take any chances.

When Mac is out of commission, nothing feels right.

He hates this new level of vulnerability he feels creeping over him and slowly morphing him into someone who gives a shit. He hates taking meds twice a day and going to therapy once a week. He hates trying to follow an eating schedule. The only thing he likes about his ‘mental health journey’ (as Mac’s been calling it) is that Mac’s around. Dennis is trying to be… less.

Less explody. Less ragey. Less angry.

Mac is the only one who notices, but he supposes that’s okay.

Dennis is in the middle of folding his pajama when Mac stirs. He stretches out like a cat and smacks his chapped lips. He rubs his eyes with his knuckles and looks all of five years old while doing it. Dennis tries to ignore the way his pulse throbs in his throat.

“What’re you doin’?” Mac slurs, voice raspy.

“I’m compulsively cleaning the apartment,” Dennis answers truthfully.

Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

Dennis scoffs. “Why?” he asks incredulously. “Because you almost died! You… You had a reaction to those fucking Fancy Nuts, and now I have to –”

He stops himself. Takes a deep breath. Pinches the bridge of his nose.

Breathe.

There’s no use in getting upset. He can’t change anything that’s already happened.

Just breathe.

“Dude, did you just stop yourself from freaking out on me?” Mac asks.

Dennis inhales deeply and nods.

“That’s awesome!” Mac exclaims, followed by a round of wheezy coughing. “I’m so proud of you, Den!”

He rolls his eyes. Keeps folding his laundry. Tries not to smile.

“D’we have any popsicles?” Mac rasps, moving past it. “My throat hurts.”

Dennis nods. “What kind do you want?”

“Blue.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Blue is not a flavor, Mac.”

Mac looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Blue’s the best flavor, Den.”

“But it’s not a…” He lets himself trail off. “Right. You’re right.”

Mac smirks. “Course. ‘m always right.”

Dennis grabs a blue raspberry popsicle out of the freezer. He opens it and wraps the exposed stick in a paper towel just in case it starts to melt. Mac sits up ever so slightly and makes grabby hands as Dennis approaches. His fingers linger – just a little bit – as he grabs the popsicle, and Dennis tries not to focus on the lump growing in his throat. Mac looks… different like this. No hair gel. Comically oversized t-shirt. Droopy, bloodshot eyes. It’s the kind of Mac that he likes coming home to daily, versus the one who’s always invading his personal space without permission or the Mac who irritates the hell out of him for no reason at all.

“Can we watch a movie? I’m bored,” Mac pouts. His lips are stained blue.

“I doubt you’ll make it twenty minutes into a movie,” Dennis says. “Why don’t we watch TV instead?”

Mac’s bottom lip juts out. He looks ridiculous. “But I wanna watch Predator, Den.”

He keeps licking and sucking on the popsicle. Dennis tries hard to ignore it.

“Fine.”

So that’s what they do.

Dennis abandons folding laundry for popping in the DVD and settling down in bed. Mac finishes his popsicle, throws the trash on the floor, and immediately sinks down until his head is nestled on Dennis’ shoulder. Dennis pulls the covers over both of them.

It turns out that Dennis is right, as he always is. Mac makes it fifteen minutes into Predator before falls asleep, snoring softly against the skin of Dennis’ neck.

~

Dennis drives out to the bar that night.

Honestly, he’s terrified about leaving Mac alone, but he doubts he’ll even stir while he’s gone. Mac ate a healthy dinner of chicken tenders and fries about an hour ago; he passed out less than five minutes after he finished his plate. Dennis made sure to bundle him up, keep the TV on since Mac has this thing about the dark, and leave a note on his own pillow just in case he wakes while he’s gone.

He doesn’t intend on being away for more than an hour.

Dennis enters Paddy’s to find Charlie covered from head to toe in marshmallow, his hair sticking up straight with the stuff. Dee and Frank have splotches of it on their clothing too. The bar smells of fresh baked goods, but in a weirdly off-putting way. Almost like rancid vanilla. He doesn’t know, nor does he care. This part of the gang – the part without Dennis and Mac – is… dumb as shit, for the lack of a more elegant phrase.

He heads behind the bar with a huff and begins emptying all the bowls of peanuts into the trash.

This, of course, sparks a controversy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, dude?” Charlie screeches, waving his arms around like the Goddamn idiot he is.

“Mac’s allergic to peanuts,” Dennis says simply. “So I’m throwing away all the peanuts.”

“Like hell you are!” Frank exclaims, spitting as he speaks. “Free peanuts are the cornerstone of Paddy’s!”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “I thought that was thin limes?”

“Thick limes!” Frank yells. Then he looks confused. “Wait a minute. What side was I on for the lime thing?”

“I don’t care,” Dennis answers. He starts to clean the bar with Clorox wipes, knocking peanut shells to the floor.

“I’m with Charlie and Frank on this one,” Dee interjects because of course she does. Fucking bird.

“Dee… We were, like, talking,” Charlie says.

Frank nods. “No one asked you, bird.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! My opinion is important. Right, Dennis?”

Dennis finishes wiping the bar and moves onto sweeping the floor. “I don’t care,” he repeats.

Jesus Christ, there are so many fucking peanuts and peanut shells down here. This is definitely not a safe environment for Mac.

Mac.

He tries not to think about Mac waking up alone and sick in the apartment.

Dennis starts to speed up his cleaning process while remaining thorough and diligent about making the bar peanut free.

“Are you even listening to us, man?” Charlie asks, stepping in front of Dennis’ trash pile. His battered Vans are caked in marshmallow fluff.

“No.”

“I see what this is,” Dee says. “He’s all worked up about Mac.”

Dennis stops sweeping. “He’s sick. Of course I’m worked up.”

“He’s not sick, asshole. He’s just allergic to peanuts.”

“And tree nuts!” Dennis exclaims. “He’s allergic to peanuts and tree nuts, and this bar is absolutely riddled with them!”

“Aw, look at you taking care of him,” Dee teases, sipping at her beer.

Dennis’ eyes narrow. He chooses not to interact. He chooses not to explode into a rage-filled ball. He chooses to ignore.

He wants to threaten to cut her into a billion tiny, unrecognizable pieces, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he just pinches the bridge of his nose.

Dee continues on making her noises and shit. Charlie and Frank do too. But Dennis doesn’t care.

He mops the floor. Gets rid of their peanut inventory in the storeroom. Takes out the garbage. Washes his hands in the bathroom. Fills the former peanut bowls with chips. Puts on his coat. Listens to 3/5 of the gang scream over each other about some shit he couldn’t care less about. 

“No more nuts,” Dennis announces as he’s about to leave Paddy’s.

They all wave him off.

~

After three days of recuperating, Mac feels well enough to go to work.

Dennis finishes putting anti-itch ointment on the last of Mac’s hives. “Are you sure you don’t want to take it easy for another day?”

“Nah. I feel fine.”

Mac coughs wetly, and Dennis’ eyes widen.

“Mostly fine,” Mac interjects with a shrug.

“Are you sure? You still look really tired, and I don’t want you to over–”

“Dennis, I’m fine.”

He nods. Mac rolls down his shirtsleeve once the ointment is mostly dry.

The drive to work is peaceful. Dennis lets Mac pick the music. Mac is quiet and keeps stealing glances at Dennis when he thinks Dennis isn't watching.

When they arrive at the bar, Charlie is waiting at the front door. "Guys, I have news!" he exclaims.

"Why don't we let Mac get settled in first before we spring the news on him, huh?" Dennis asks, placing his hand on the small of Mac's back and guiding him into Paddy's. He keeps his hand there until Mac is seated on a barstool with zero possibility of danger. He pats his jeans pocket for the thousandth time this afternoon, feeling for Mac's EpiPen. 

"Beer?" Dennis asks Mac, ignoring everyone else around them.

Mac nods. "Sure."

Dennis opens it for him. Mac takes a tentative sip. 

"Can I tell you my news now?" Charlie asks, his voice becoming increasingly high pitched and annoying.

"Sure, pal," Dennis says.

"Great! So it all started when Frank -"

But Dennis isn't listening. Obviously, neither is Mac. Because Mac's eyes are focused on the chip - formerly peanut - bowls in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he rubs the rim of the bowl with his index finger and looks sheepishly at Dennis.

Dennis shrugs nonchalantly and takes a swig of his own beer. 

Mac smiles, small and thankful. 

~

"You replaced the peanuts with chips," Mac says as they enter the apartment. He drapes his leather jacket over the pink inflatable chair. 

Dennis swallows thickly. "Uh... yeah. I did."

"And you cleaned our whole apartment."

"From top to bottom."

Mac just looks at him, a kind of look that makes Dennis wildly uncomfortable. "And you did all of that for me?"

"Well it certainly wasn't for me," Dennis says. He toes off his tennis shoes and settles them by the front door. He doesn't like where this conversation is going.

Mac sighs. "Huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dennis asks.

"That was nice of you," is all Mac says.

Dennis' eyebrows furrow this time. "I'm always nice, Mac."

Mac shakes his head. "No, you're definitely not," he says. "But you're getting nicer. Since you started taking your meds and stuff again. I like it."

Dennis nods, skin burning brightly. He kicks his socked toe at invisible dust on the floor, hands stuffed deep into his jeans pockets. "Yeah, well..." He isn't sure what to say next, so he doesn't say anything at all. 

"Thanks, Den... Y'know, for looking out for me and making me feel more better."

Mac takes a seat on the inflatable couch. Dennis follows suit, unsure of what to do or how to make this horrible, bubbly feeling inside him go away. 

"You're welcome, man. I like taking care of you."

"I like taking care of you too."

An uneasy silence falls upon the apartment, the kind of silence that slices Dennis to his core. He doesn't like all this... this tenderness. It makes him feel weak and strange.

But Mac's staring at him, puppy dog eyes shining brightly in the faint Philadelphia night.

Dennis flinches when Mac puts his hand on his forearm.

"Can I kiss you?" Mac asks softly, so softly Dennis almost doesn't register the question.

Dennis nods.

Mac's lips are soft. He tastes like cherry chapstick, the stuff he often steals from Dennis. It tastes sweet, like freshly pulled taffy on a hot summer afternoon. 

He can get used to this. 

[mojaves]

tagged by @nuclearstorms @aartyom @faarkas and @cultistbase to do this tag game for some ocs!

not doing the picrew bc i can't make them all in it and it will make me insane but here it is for anyone else who wants to give it a try!!

FAVOURITE OC

SEBASTIAN VIDAL | 2077

it was a tie between him and alex. but i decided not to give alex special treatment bc otherwise he would be on here twice. anyway this isnt about him. this is about seb. the saddest wettest beast of an oc i think ive ever created. he can fit so much lore in him. he has the worst life. his now boyfriend once tried to kill him no less than 20ish times. his ex wife also tried to kill him. everyone is trying to kill him and he's just out here big silly and gay about it. AND he has great boobs. whats not to love. theyre so big bc theyre so full of the love he has for his friends and family. and im obsessed with him

NEWEST OC

VEGA | 2077

they are a bartender at a club. they have black and green hair. they love short guys and fast cars. theyre a menace. they were a merc once. they can down a whole can of beer in under 10 seconds. you want to he their friend so bad.

OLDEST OC

ALEX SHEPHERD | N/A

literally THE guy of all time who is SOSOSOSOSO important to me. he's gone through so many changes, appearance wise, story wise, even names. he is an amalgamation of so many old dead ocs i didnt know what to do with. he is THE babygirl of the moment and the moment is forever. he has existed in some form for 10??? years now. he CANNOT stay dead and it really shows in both his story and how many iterations he went through to get to this point. tall bastard man who im in love with actually.

MEANEST OC

RUTHIE O'CONNELL | N/A

she's a girlboss but also a horrible person. she tried to kill her husband [after she died. ghost revenge] and eventually succeeded. and then tormented his great[?] nephew, alex. for so many years. until HE also died. bc of her. and now his [not] life is in complete and utter shambles. 0 remorse she just saw this baby and was like ok now how can i torment him psychologically for the next 22 years of his life. and then did it. and for what. girl thats a wholeass fresh baked infant why are you haunting him. go somewhere else.

SOFTEST OC

NOAH TALAVERA | 2077

he is just a little guy who is SO full of love despite the horrors. so gentle with literally everything he touches. the city could have completely changed and ruined him. he could have become angry. he could have become a merc to get money. and fall into that pit like so many others did. but he didnt!!! he didnt let that happen!!!! yes the city may have hurt him and left him with cyberware he never wanted but it will NEVER stop him from being kind. ever. and i love him so much for it.

MOST ALOOF/STANDOFFISH OC

XAVIER MASON | 2077

he is an arasaka plaything whose whole personality has been completely altered bc of it. he used to be welcoming and friendly and Kind. but bc of literally everything arasaka did to him, he's extremely cold and distant, and a bit of an asshole. he is well aware of this, and there is a little voice in him somewhere. begging for him to be kind again. just once. because while he won't ever admit it, he doesnt want to die believing everyone thought he was nothing more than an arasaka bootlicker and an all around shitty guy. he's a loving father, deep down in there somewhere, he just cant show it. and he doesnt know how </3 he'll figure it out again. one day

DUMBEST OC

LUCIANO VIDAL | 2077

it's funny bc he is actually really smart, his brain is a sponge when it comes to learning new things, he is a great listener, and will remember basically everything you ever tell him. however!!! when he started his job as a security guard at a club, he somehow didnt notice his own brother was also there working occasionally. for a whole entire month. [theyre both idiots there sorry seb] but then after that. he also failed to mention to his two sisters that he finally got in contact with his brother again after almost 20 years. it took. ???? a good handful of months for anyone to find out. and it was entirely by accident.

he's very stupid and his idea of what is and isnt important is Very skewed. but i still love him.

SMARTEST OC

LEON DELLO RUSSO | 2077

he designed his own cyberarm. the fingers are full of different sized screwdrivers for different emergencies. he once plotted out the floorplan of an entire spaceship by memory and sheer luck. he is very good at repairing things. he is a cybersecurity expert. he almost got killed for hacking into the wrong systems at work once. he contains multitudes.

OC I'D BE FRIENDS WITH IRL

MARCUS/RYAN/VAL | N/A

yes theres three of them theyre a package deal. marcus sees ghosts. ryan is a wandering soul trying to find her body back. val can read your fortune with eerie accuracy. if the three of them were my friends my life would never be boring ever again

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  Full Of Broken Thoughts

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Warning: Major Character Death

Rating:  Teen

Synopsis: Takes place shortly after S9E14, 'Captives' What if Dean had decided to try a different solution to killing Abadon?

Tags:  Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Death, Metatron, Castiel, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Crowley, Angst, Songfic, Canon Divergence,

AN: Song is "Hurt," written by Trent Reznor. Either the Nine Inch Nails original or the Johnny Cash cover are brilliant-- variations on a theme and a real illustration of how alternate interpretations can bring something new to an established work. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

The note was on the kitchen’s prep counter, weighted down with a sturdy drip coffeemaker new in the box.

Got a lead on First Blade. Might be a while. Calls going straight to your phone. -D

Sam sighed. "That's . . . that's great Dean, very vivid. Paints quite the word picture," he muttered, crumpling up the note and tossing it into the swill can. At least Dean had remembered to stock up the cooler before he took the car and Sam set to work making himself some breakfast. Peace and quiet for a few days, good food and his own company for a few days, no black cloud of guilt in the shape of his brother for a few days. If Sam was honest, it sounded lovely. Maybe they’d tried to reestablish the business prematurely. The way he felt right now he’d just as soon keep working alone. For now.

A few days turned into a few more days. Then a few more days. Sam kept busy. He found himself a scrappy little Jeep Cherokee that fit him like a glove and had a radio that didn't play cock rock 24/7. He ate at nice places where he didn't have to writhe through Dean's heavy drinking and complete inability to behave around any woman between twenty and fifty. He came home to a full shampoo bottle and an undefiled toothbrush and all the peace and quiet a guy could want.

It was all very serene, very soothing. Until Sam felt himself thoroughly soothed. --- I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real. --- "So I can't help but notice your shadow's missing," Jody finally spat it out as the movie on Jody's TV finished. Rashamon, all rain and leafy shades and everyone the hero of their own life story. Jody grunted as she adjusted her bad leg on the recliner's leg rest. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure, Dean's fine. How's Alex settling in?" Sam said. --- The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting. Try to kill it all away, but I remember every thing. --- It got exasperating.

It got so Sam started conversations with, "Dean's working a case solo. He's fine." Each and every person would start a little, give him that so-so-concerned look, and say, "Okay." It only confirmed that anybody who knew them didn't think of Sam as a person in his own right. Only something that existed in relation to his needy fucking idiot of a brother. --- What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know, goes away in the end. --- It wasn't until Sam was cleaning out the cooler and found that experiment with garlic and Velveeta that he realized Dean had been gone for a while. An icepick stabbed through his guts as Sam started counting days.

He made himself stop. Dean wanted to sulk some more, he was within his rights. Sam was tired of being his older brother's therapist. They were both grown men for God's sake. The stinking mass of cheeselike foodstuff went into the trash and Sam went to work scrubbing the remains out of the cooler. --- And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt. --- "Moose! Long time."

"What do you want Crowley?" Sam asked, sighing at the state of his shirt. That ecto stain hadn't come out. How did Dean do it, lemon juice or club soda or something else--

"Got a lead on the First Blade, finally. An associate of mine--"

Sam dropped the shirt. "What do you mean, finally? Dean went with you to chase the First Blade ages ago."

"No he has not my dear Moosie. In fact, that's why I'm wasting my breath on you and not on your better half. I've been trying to get through to Squirrel for several days, and the bloody tease will not answer his phone. I know I'm not exactly his favorite person in the world but it does make a girl feel a bit unloved."

Sam didn't answer. The arithmetic was running, absolute and merciless, and this time his brain ignored the hard stop he'd put on any thoughts that might lead to worrying about Dean.

"Pass the message along if you would. My followers are holding the line against Abbadon but that won't last indefinitely. Ta."

Sam stared at the laundry room wall for a long moment, his phone in his hand. Peace, quiet, emptiness, solitude.

He hated it. --- I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar's chair. Full of broken thoughts, I cannot repair. --- "This is Dean's other, other cell. Please call my brother Sam at 214-555-1212."

"Dean call me. Right now. This dropping off the grid shit's not funny." --- Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear. You are someone else, I am still right here. --- "Sure I'll put out some feelers," Garth said. "How long has he been in the wind?"

However long seven weeks, two days, and eighteen-odd hours is. "Long enough I'm getting worried," Sam said. "You haven't heard of him needing backup on a case or anything?"

"Naw man. Not that he'd call for backup. You know Dean. I love y'all like family but there're times he'd cross the street to step in dog doo. Could be he just needed some Me Time and he's holed up somewhere with a couple strippers and a case of Jack Daniels."

"If that were the case he'd be calling every hour to rub my nose in it," Sam said dryly.

Garth laughed. "The cringe is strong with that one. Try not to worry too much. It's Dean. He's hard to hurt. Experts have tried."

That wasn’t true, and Sam knew it. Anyone who really knew him practically had to take a second job handling his oh-so-tender feelings--

Not ‘anyone,’ Sam. You. --- What have I become, my sweetest friend? Every one I know goes away in the end. --- Sam was in the bunker when it happened-- the alarm klaxon went off and the map table lit up like Vegas. It took him most of a day to reverse the lockdown and turn off the alarms, and when he went outside he ran straight into Castiel.

"Something's different," was the best Cas could do, with that maximum-strength frown of his. As they went downstairs, Cas asked, "Where's Dean?"

"I don't know. He left a while ago saying he was on a case and he--" Sam turned when he realized Cas wasn't in line with him anymore. The angel was standing on the upper deck stairs with the most profound look of horror Sam had ever seen on his face, including the time he'd taken Lucifer out of Sam's head.

"Oh no," Cas said. "Oh please, no. Not this. Please. Not this." --- And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. --- "I was one of Abbadon's personal guard," the elderly woman on the bed said, her hands held in place by padded cuffs. "Winchester trapped me inside the old convent and started shooting me up with needles full of his own blood. The last thing I remember was . . ." she started to cry, "he just . . . gleamed. The Righteous Man, in the flesh. It was beautiful."

Yeah, Sam remembered. The cold annihilating light that had singed every cell in his body, making him a burnt offering for sacrifice--

But they'd found no body. The Impala outside, Dean's jacket with the car keys in the pocket, Dean's footprints on the convent's filthy floor, Dean's fingerprints on the bloody needles, but no Dean. No Dean, alive or dead. No one matching Dean’s description had turned up as a John Doe anywhere and Sam had every Hunter and Hunter-adjacent person he’d ever met looking. Dean was just . . . gone.

The woman suddenly squinted in Sam's direction. "I'm sorry. Are you Sam?" He nodded. "He wanted me to give you a message. He said, 'It's okay. It should have been me the whole time.' He wanted to tell you he was sorry."

The next thing Sam remembered, he was outside the room and sitting on the floor. He breathed. His heart beat. He wasn't sure how. Sam wasn't sure of anything any more. Reality was over, and this all had to be a bad dream. Some nightmare Gadreel . . . or Crowley . . . or Lucifer, maybe he really was still in the Cage and Lucifer--

No acceptable version of reality would let the last word on their bond of brotherhood be the sound of a locking door. --- I will let you down. I will make you hurt. --- "No," Sam said. "Dean would never ask you. For anything."

"You're right. He didn't ask. I offered," Metatron said. "A convergence of mutual interests. I get one less enemy to deal with as I work to reunite angelkind," Sam scoffed, "demons go back into Hell for now, and your brother finally gets that martyr's death he's been seeking since . . . always."

"What does that mean, 'for now'?"

"Oh please. You of all people should know that nothing stays locked away forever. Could be next week. Could be in the year 3000. But it'll happen. Though honestly? I don't really see why you're so upset. Normal life awaits! I mean, sure, it doesn't mean anything without Dean providing context. What are you, without him? A college dropout suffering from delusions of heroism? A discarded vessel? Castiel's hired muscle? It's funny really. Out of all the members of the Winchester perpetual disaster machine, Dean was the one you really respected the least, and yet without him--"

"You shut your mouth." He was shaking. Knees, hands, voice. All of it shook.

Metatron did, but he didn't stop smiling. He might've been sipping a beer instead of watching Sam Winchester bear down on him with a blade to hand. "You wanna know the real reason, I put Dean back on the path to completing the Trials?" Through a series of moves Sam couldn't follow, Metatron disarmed him and punched him in the chest so hard Sam felt his ribs crack. Struggling to breathe, Sam collapsed. "I'm bored of your story. God might find humanity's inability to learn amusing, but I'm over it. I'm extremely over it.

"If you think about it," Metatron picked up Sam's angel blade, "it's cruel. Give you just enough awareness to know," Sam groaned as the angel put a hand on Sam's stomach and shook it, like a parent jiggling a chubby baby's tummy, "to really bellyfeel, how wretched you are, but not enough power to really do anything about it."

"Just kill me," Sam said. He felt it again, the relief of the end. "You win. Do it."

Metatron made a considering face. "That would be the merciful thing to do, I guess. I mean, there is always the possibility--" he burst into laughter. "Oh I can't even. It's gonna take a miracle to beat me, and the guy who made you capable of miracles? He's gone.

"And I don't feel like being merciful." He vanished. --- If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. --- "Oh don't be melodramatic Samuel, it doesn't suit you," Death scoffed. "I offered you the chance to die on your own terms and you rejected it."

"I was tricked!" Sam snapped.

"Yes. By your brother, who was equally ready to die, and whom you convinced otherwise. How did that conversation go again-- 'I want to live, and so should you, you have friends, family,' et cetera. The two things that define the both of you are survivor's guilt and martyr complex. You are not Christ, and no one demanded that you climb up on a cross. You were not in that church for vengeance or the greater good or any higher purpose, at all. You were in that church to atone for a very specific sin, from which your brother absolved you. Well now, it is over. Dean is somewhere you cannot reach and believe me, it is better for all concerned he remain there."

"Then take me too," Sam said.

"No."

Sam felt his soul fail, like an overloaded cable. "TAKE ME TOO!!!" He fell at Death's feet. "Just take me too. You want to."

"What I want is immaterial." Implacable as a Delphic oracle, Death stared down at Sam as Sam sniveled on the ground. "You’re free now, Sam. Though I don't think you'll find liberty comforting, in light of what you spurned to obtain it."

Sam woke up on the exam room table gasping air into his cramped lungs. --- I would find a way. ---

AN2: I got some feelz about the latter half of S9. Sam was angry, and he had every right -- Dean essentially held Sam down while Sam was raped, repeatedly. But basically confirming every bad thing Dean's ever felt about himself, and tying the whole thing off with the idea that not wanting to watch his brother die (again) was a sin and Sam would rather be dead than exist on the same planet was a bit overkill.

[weerewolf-mullets]

I still think back to art school alot. It gives me ideas. Ideas for projects that I never did when I was actually in the class. Things I could have changed about projects I did, different answers I could have given. It bothers me alot to look back at just how much that school made me struggle. How much it broke me. How much I broke myself. How much I'm still breaking myself. I hate that art school gave me all these grand ideas for art I wanted to do, inspired by those around and before me. Ive always wanted to do massive stuff, cut a spiral into a house like that one guy did. Splash paint and glitter all over a room. Destroy a gallery idk just do these grand ideas just for the sake of doing them. I hated them for all this inspiration that's I can't do fucking shit with. I just feel like I'm full of ideas, a malestorm of them, all moving too fast to ever finish the thought, write down lightning before it's gone. I just want to drown in paint, roll in it like a pig in shit just for fun, just because and get some rich idiot to pay thousands for the joy of simply doing. School always demanded a why (which is fair I guess) but they never seemed satisfied with the answer "beacuse I wanted to" I wanted to see what would happen, the reactions and the results, just for the hell of it, no thinking just doing. And you can say you can do that nothing is stopping you. I guess when they say the difference between fucking around and science, is writing it down. So many things I could have written down but writing is so hard for me. Having to stop, sit down, and wrote down your ideas. Ideas I can't keep still long enough to write the first word? I could t keep up with my own head, how could me hands even have a chance in the race. So many things are stopping me. I am stopping myself. Sometimes I want to do something so bad but I know I can't. It's not the time or the place or the complete lack of money. And fear. So much fear. Fear in change fear in bothering people fear in their reaction their response. It's terrifying. I have this dream tone day get out of my parents basement. Out of this room with no windows. Out of this house that feels so dull. Can't be what I want to be, can't make them understand how I feel, ildont have the words to help them understand. I am tired. So tired. Tired of my brain not working, how I can seemingly only be awake between the hours of 3pm to 4am. In a town that shuts down at 9pm, that judges and stares and asks questions. Too many eyes. Not enough eyes. I want to go back to the city or closer to it. Easier to get out of my own head. See people I want to see. So many eyes that you're basically invisible. The sound of it all. I think about art school alot. How it gave me so many people and experiences. Idk if I'll go back. Spend another 8 years. Maybe I'd go back just for certain shop classes? Probably not.

Don't mind me. Just rambling

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

so i love your blog but ive been too scared to say anything but would you be open to maybe writing a scene about a drugged whumpe and caretaker saving them. it can be nsft if you want or what ever you think of

Don't be shy, butterfly! I promise I'm friendly. <3 Thank you for your request and allow me to craft you a little tale by the fire. If this doesn't hit the spot, feel free to request more and if it does, still feel free to do so!

I'm always taking requests even if it takes me some time to get to it, it's only because of IRL things like work. :) I see all asks and requests and convert them to drafts immediately to be able to start progress on them. If you don't see your ask for a while, just know I have it and I will eventually respond. Just have to find the mood for the topic.

BUT PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED. I'm a big fluffy idiot half the time so I promise, while the blog is a little intimidating and I've practiced writing for many years; I love each and every person that interacts, lurks and follows as the beautiful humans they are. <3 You guys keep this blog going and flowing with content.

Never forget why the city stands: because of the residents.

(Tags/TW: implied nsfw, drugging/date r*pe, explicit elements, intoxicated whumpee, mentions of dub-con, consensual talk of intimacy, just in time trope, implied/future intimate caretaker, caretaker x whumpee)

It was all Whumpee could do, to make it to the doorway of the house they were visiting. Their legs felt like they would buckle, knees were weak and feet couldn't lift high off the ground for full steps. They had to drag them.

They heard pounding music, saw lights until the door opened. There was ambient chatter, laughter, so loud it sounded like it might deafen them.

They still felt the gaze of Whumper and their lurking friends. The only reason they were intoxicated in the first place.

Whumpee trusted them, to take a harmless beverage in hopes they were safe. They never would have accepted it from Whumper and by the looks; they must have had it prepared in the plastic cup; the soda they opened had snapped with freshness.

They never saw a difference in the bubbles reaching the top from the drug and the bubbles spilling over the rim from the soda. No one could have known until they were long finished and had gone to the bathroom after. When they looked in the mirror, it was like it had all hit at once.

They knew it was a race if they didn't want to pass out in front of Whumper, in front of the people that helped Whumper drug them. They wanted a piece too, there was no doubt of reward for the assistance.

Now.. they just had to hope they could dial the right number on their blurry phone as they stumbled out onto the front lawn.

"Hello?"

No sooner had they opened their mouth to speak, they turned their head to retch and vomit on the sidewalk. A gag or two followed and they were left gasping for breath as they tried to raise the phone to their ear.

"Whumpee, are you okay?! What's wrong? Where are you?" Caretaker's voice was comforting, at least, as they echoed their concern at hearing them sickly.

"P-Puhlease... I don't.. wanna be here anymore..." They sniffed, sight swirling as they collapsed onto the grass in a final spin. "I-I'm a-at Whumpers-"

"Stay there Whumpee, I'm on my way, I'll be five minutes you hear me?"

Whumpee all but heard them; distantly, as their brain was claimed in the fullest of the looming fog. They laid on their side, the phone still close to their ear but the call ended. All they managed to focus on was the stars that hung over them, even as their eyes threatened to roll in the rebellion of focus.

It might have been too late, they thought as they heard footsteps from behind them, instead of the gate they faced. There were a couple sets of them, it left vibrations through them or so the sounds made them feel that way. Each clap of a shoe to grass or pavement bouncing off the inside of their brain.

"Looks like you're outta luck, Whumpee," Whumper chuckled in a sloppy, drunken voice.

"You shouldn't'ave come if you didn't want to be the center of attention." Whumper made their way closer, crouching to pick up Whumpee's hand and letting it fall with a limp recoil. "Hah.. Looks like that drug'was pretty strong too."

Another set of voices laughed behind them and they still couldn't manage to make any kind of eye contact. It was as though they weren't in control or even seeing anymore for that matter, all they felt was a heat start to claim them. From their toes up.

"C'mon, grab'em up and let's take'em up stairs... This night isn't over yet." Whumper instructed and right as they poised to pick Whumpee up; headlights came tearing up the driveway and past the unlocked gate.

The truck drove up to them, over the sidewalk and decorations that made no match to the tires that spun. The group around Whumpee fled and before Caretaker could jump out of the vehicle, they were slamming the front door behind them. More than likely to call the police, if they were scared enough.

Caretaker was at Whumpee's side in a moment, pocketing their phone and picking them up in a cradle. They were heavier than expected, now that they were dead weight in their arms.

"I've got you, let's get you home, away from this psycho's party.." Caretaker soothed, opening the door to their truck and depositing Whumpee on the soft cushion. They belted in their limp form, tilted them back in the seats recline. "Just a minute and we'll be back, okay?"

Caretaker rounded the vehicle and left how they came, barely turning the corner before Whumpee's head turned and foamy vomit met the carpeting with an unpredictable heave. They winced, glancing over to see them coughing on whatever they'd been given. Another heave though and cleansing bile hit the rug; telling them whatever was inside them, was almost out.

By the time they pulled in the driveway of their home, Whumpee was flushed and fevered, no mind the mess they laid in. They looked pitiful and by the sight of what they'd rolled up on, Whumper and their friends had planned to do far, far worse to them.

"...It's hot..." Whumpee whispered, earning another cough from their lungs.

"Come on, we need to get you cooled down," Caretaker insisted, reaching out for a fevered, sweaty forehead.

Caretaker carried them differently this time, chest to chest and legs on their hips to manage their weight. Through the front door and straight up the stairs, where they could lay them in a white porcelain tub.

Whumpee flinched and gave a hiss when the cold met their skin and they couldn't get away from it, meeting every edge when they turned.

"I know I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Caretaker soothed, turning the water on and waiting for it to reach a lukewarm temp. Anything would feel cold to them right now so they did their best to stay in an acceptable range.

"Come on, let's clean you up okay? Do you feel like you'll get sick again?" Caretaker asked and watched Whumpee shake their head in a daze. "If you do, just let me know, I'll give you the trash can."

Whumpee lay in surrender when Caretaker started to run the water over them, clothing and all. It made them shiver but as they cooled down, it was easier to focus on the person above them; gazing down with all the concern in the world.

"There, you already look a little better.." Caretaker soothed, pushing their bangs back before gently running water over the sides of their neck. "Though.. whatever they gave you was strong."

Whumpee started to speak but instead, a squeaky moan passed their lips when Caretakers fingers tangled in their hair and gave an accidental tug. They looked startled about potentially hurting them but paused when they heard a far more pleasant noise.

Caretaker finally saw it, past their worry, how Whumpee was left by the effects of the drug, running its course through their body.

Whumpee's chest bowed with breath, back arched away from the tub, eyes stared at them with a glassy, lidded haze. Their cheeks and nose were flushed, all the way to the peaks of their ears and spread down their neck. They were panting, even with the cooled water pooling in the bottom of the tub to soak them.

"Do you still feel bad?" They asked aloud, coming to cup the side of their moist cheek. "Does it hurt?"

Whumpee shook their head, pressing deeper into the hand that held their face. They gave a small keen, lifting a slow, trembling hand to their wrist to pull them closer.

"F-Feels hot.. a-and good... when Caretaker t-touches me.." Whumpee couldn't possibly know what they were saying, with the delirious look on their features. They pulled Caretaker's touch off of their face and instead, pulled the hand down their body until it rested on their chest. "I-I need it- o-or I'm gonna die-"

Caretaker's face furrowed in a frown, at how fatigued and fevered they looked. They bit their lip when they stopped talking, they looked like they would cry any minute. When they swept their thumb over their skin while Whumpee held it to their chest, they shivered and purred in delight.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, it should wear off soon, you just have to make it through it." Caretaker encouraged, watching Whumpee start to undress in the water with uncoordinated movements. Even once they were bare, Caretaker merely reached to pet their head in trade.

"Please.." Whumpee begged and Caretaker felt awful for denying them something they needed; if they really thought it would help.

"You need to sleep, so it wears off faster," They tried again, feeling the desperate grip on their hand pull at them. "Really, I don't think it's a good idea to indulge it to burn it out."

"Caretaker, please.. Please it hurts.." They whimpered arching into every touch.

"I'll keep touching you, but just so I can get you clean, okay? Please understand I'm not being cruel, I know how these things work and it's better if you don't give in to what it tells you."

Whumpee whimpered in frustration as Caretaker grabbed a fresh cloth from the cabinet, lathered it up with rich soaps to return to them. At the first touch, Whumpee thought they'd pass on the spot.

Their heart skipped, raced against their ribs, thumped in their ears and vision got blurry. It made them pant, skin flush despite the cooling water they laid in. The fever was back within minutes and all the while, they gazed up at a face that grew more defined with concern.

The touches were briefer, the more small noises escaped them and they spasmed under Caretakers hand. They were picking up the showerhead again and adjusting the temperature to rinse them off.

Caretaker adjusted sopping clothes to one side, let the tub drain and when they glanced back over, they had to hold their breath. Their own pulse spiked, felt a small rush of heat to Whumpee laid out so desperate and wantonly.

Those thoughts were no better than Whumper.

They scolded themselves mentally, drew sight away, and only returned to their side to hold open a towel.

"Can you stand?" They asked, watching Whumpee strain to sit up properly. "Come on, I've got you. Let's get you dried off and in bed."

Whumpee didn't fight them, allowing Caretaker to wrap the large towel around them and pick them up out of the shower bridal-style. Their immediate destination was the bathroom counter, resting them there to grab their robe from a wall-peg and wrap it around them for more warmth.

"I know it's hot but you need to sweat it out, that's why it's making you feel so warm." They encouraged, "As soon as we're in bed, I'll get you some water and I need you to drink all of it, deal?"

"Nnhm.." A dazed mutter and Caretaker reached to hold their shoulders, a hand shifting to hold their face instead when they swayed in place.

"I promise, I'll be here while it passes. You'll feel better soon," Caretaker picked them up again and carried them back through the floor-plan.

Upon reaching their bed, they laid Whumpee down in a careful decline and pulled the covers around their fevered form. They needed a thermometer, so they could make sure the levels didn't get dangerous.

"A-Am I u-ugly to Caretaker...?" A quiet, broken voice from Whumpee and Caretaker held back a gasp in surprise.

"No! Of course not, Whumpee, you're beautiful. That's not the reason, if you're trying to figure out why I won't touch you right now." Caretaker soothed.

"W-Why..?" They whimpered, "Whumpee will be good, make Caretaker feel good too.."

They said it with such innocence like there was nothing wrong with begging to have their body taken however someone pleased. They were disgustingly used to it, being ravaged at whim. Now, they thought there was something wrong with them because Caretaker wouldn't commit the same atrocities while they were under such heavy influence.

"It's not a punishment, Whumpee. It's because I care about you and- when we do things like that, I don't want it to be because of some dumb pill.. I want it to be because we love each other and trust each other." Caretaker explained, trying to soften the rejection by crawling into bed with them on top of the covers they'd been tucked under. They reached out to hold Whumpee, pulled them close in their multiple layers of warmth.

"..Y-You said when.." They chimed into, making Caretaker flush at the apples of their cheeks. "...Does Caretaker want to touch me when I'm not high..?"

"I'm not against being intimate with you, Whumpee, not at all," They fought through their embarrassment, pushing hair away from lidded eyes. Even just that small contact left Whumpee's lips parting and looking at them with a higher intensity.

"I just want it to be when Whumper hasn't interfered like this. When you're not desperate for release we can take our time, sharing each other." Caretaker reassured, giving a chaste kiss to their closest temple.

"I-I'd like that..." Whumpee muttered, already feeling the haze of fatigue despite the heat inside them. Just by assuming a position they did before sleep had them already threatening to doze off in Caretakers arms.

"Just sleep and let this wear off, we can talk more when you wake up."

"I love you, Caretaker.."

"I love you too, Whumpee."