#room 303

[viesanders]

Eric & Zach Self para

//Eric's Apartment #303. Apr 13th & 17th, early morning.

He still heard Hector's heavy breathing as he dragged Eric back to the bed - it wasn't so easy now when his legs, the whole body, wouldn't cooperate. The smell of the liquor confiscated from other people's apartments mixed with sweat permeated his nostrils. "I'm gonna need a shower after this," he heard him complain. Eric needed it even more when he could still smell Sada's perfume on his own clothes.

He remembered tripping on his own pants on his way upstairs, to the ground level, because Hector thought it would be funny not to fully pull them back up until it was too dangerous that someone could spot them. Even Sada wasn't there to see her new loyalist trying to earn some points for humiliating Eric; he had been enjoying his new tools, the power she had given him and James.

He remembered the jokes the man whispered into his ear when he brutally pulled Eric back up to his feet, ignoring his resigned groan. The way back to his new apartment was long, but when the door closed behind him, the lock turning, he didn't feel any better or safer.

Someone should have seen him immediately, the injuries she had left him with, but he crawled into his bed instead and wrapped his aching body in the blanket so tight he wasn't even sure if anything still hurt.

As if he had witnessed a thief break into his house and steal the most valuable of his possessions while all he could do was watch, Eric's mind replayed the events of the night over and over again in his head. Sada robbed him of his dignity in more than one way and he wasn't even brave enough to apologize to himself for bringing this on himself for nothing.

Unable to fall asleep, his hand gingerly reached up to his neck and covered the tattoo. Whatever it was, he didn't want it there but this room was the only place he could keep it hidden; Sada made it clear she would tattoo his face if she ever saw him cover it.

It's been years since Eric last cried, but that was the only way to exhaust himself to the point where he reached a dreamless rest. Despite his broken ribs and how it hurt to bury his face into the pillow to muffle the sounds, he cried like a kid.

Why had his body betrayed him and allowed that to happen; maybe she would have left him earlier if it hadn't cooperated? That spark of hope disguised as guilt (and vice versa) remained stuck in his brain like a splinter.

*

Another morning came and he woke up as if solely to cry some more. Only getting out of bed to use the toilet and drink some water. He choked and coughed. His ribs immediately reminded him of the beating.

Was it the next day or later? Eric didn't know, he slept and barely felt any hunger, so even his rations remained more or less untouched. Hector brought him scrambled eggs one day, but Eric refused to eat them. He was sure there was something nasty in the meal, but little did he know that was barely a prank played on him - Hector and some other asshole bet the poor man wouldn't touch even a deliciously smelling breakfast, and sacrificed their own breakfast to prove that.

*

Days passed and even though Zach's voice at the door was neither anything new nor surprising, this time it was accompanied by Ria's.

"Unlock the door now, Ria," demanded Zach. He knew she could pick the lock and let him in, and after a few days of not seeing his brother, Zach decided it was too terrifying even for the New Wexley Order. "I'm not fucking kidding."

She was armed and he wasn't but, God, when - or more importantly how - did their friendship turn into this? He waited impatiently and when she was done, Zach entered the apartment and slammed the door shut.

Are you okay? Hell no. What happened to you? Got beaten up. By who? Sada. Why? For his performance at the atrium almost a week prior.

A wordless, blink-of-an-eye conversation between the brothers happened before Zach even opened his mouth to express his shock.

"Oh my god, Eric..."

Zach ran straight to his brother's bed and kneeled beside it, immediately studying the injuries Eric had suffered. He looked so bad and did he stink even worse. Zach's heart was breaking at the sight alone.

"We're going to the shower and then I'll get you something to eat. And then I'll find Ruth to help you. Vie, I'm so fucking sorry-" He helped Eric sit up in the bed, and just when he was sure he saw everything there was to see, a dark marking that didn't resemble dried-up blood caught his attention. Zach lifted his hand to his brother's to stop him from covering it.

Eric cleared his throat; his voice was hoarse when he quietly uttered the first word he had spoken since that night.

"What does it say...?"

[zheniakirsikkalove]

Strangers from Hell / Hell Is Other People / 타인은 지옥이다 (2019)

[choberr]

mira with the room 303 horns

[viesanders]

//. the end

🥺🖤

He was so sweet. Cheeks warming a little at his words, she knew he meant them. That meant a lot to her, that she could help at all with what he was going through. Never would she want anyone to have to go through that hell alone, and to soften his landing after the blow was all she could offer.

Settling into the warm security that their now solidified trust in each other, bonded by the understanding of shared trauma, Aggie let her thumb brush over the back of his hand as she took it. She'd stay as long as he needed her, content for the first time since the fall to really stay in one place.

To rest.

No one would be coming here. He was locked down more or less, and for now... they could pretend it was a burrow. And they were just hidden rabbits curled together against the winter's cold. By the time she fell asleep she wasn't even sure if he was still awake or not, but for her it was the first night in a while that it was dreamlessly.

[rabidhiss]

I love it when apartment buildings project an image of each room number. It’s just such a neat touch.

[nearina]

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Absolutely incredible 1902 Victorian Romanesque home in Alpena, MI is being sold furnished. 5bds, 4ba, 7,443 sq ft, $2.79m.

This home is impeccable.

Everything from the furniture, to the art, to the rugs, lamps and tchotchkes all come with it.

What a gorgeous desk. I guess you get the plants, too.

Love the kitchen. The cabinets are so pretty and it's a cook's kitchen.

The owners commissioned an artist to paint the murals on the dining room wall in oil paint on canvas. Aren't they gorgeous? Unique fireplace, too.

This is a large powder room. Love the tile.

Each bedroom is beautifully furnished.

Lovely bright vintage bath.

This bedroom features a seating area in the tower.

The bathroom sink was made from an amazing antique piece.

The beds in this room are fantastic. I wonder how much of the price is going toward the antique furniture.

After painstakingly decorating this home, I can't believe that they're selling it complete.

Look at the cute little sink in this room.

The finished attic looks like a pub.

There's an extra bedroom up here with two more beautiful antique beds.

Wonderful big porch.

The home is on a .42 acre lot.

Located in a lovely neighborhood just across the road from Thunder Bay.

Tennis courts nearby.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/303-S-State-Ave-Alpena-MI-49707/226496220_zpid/

[largetaytertots]

20+ Must Have Holiday Mods For in The Sims 4 by LargeTayterTots

Gameplay Mods

Turn TV On by mizoreyukii Smores Options by ravasheen Let's Grow A Christmas Tree by icemunmun

Overrides

Christmas Set by strangestorytellersims Present Overhaul by apricotrush Luxe Gift Box Override by largetaytertots Snow Shovel // Rake Override by largetaytertots Holiday Tram Override by k-303

Recipes

Grand Meals by somik & severinka Festive Sugar Cookie Tray by icemunmun Gingerbread House by littlbowbub Gingerbread Cake by littlbowbub

Pose Packs

This Christmas Pose Pack by dumplinsiims

Build/Buy

Right On Track Toy Train by ravasheen The Merry Collection by lijoue The Advent Calendar by bbygyal123 The Ageless Dining Room Set by bostyny Holiday Decor Recolor by l.ovelysims Winter Holiday Decor by syboulette

CAS

Bright & Merry CAS Room by largetaytertots Family Christmas Pjs by simmerkate Christmas Collection Part 2 by jius Christmas Pajamas by boschiana The Willow Collection by sentate The Sandalwood Set by serenity Autumn City III by rusty Reindeer Antlers by bellassims Dog Christmas Sweaters by apricotrush

youtube / tiktok / twitch / patreon / gallery id: largetaytertots

[viesanders]

//Eric's Apartment #303. Apr 17th, morning.

closed starter for @ruthellry

Zach tried to remain calm but it was about his brother and he had never seen him like this. He helped Eric take a shower, fixed him some food, and changed the bed sheets before leaving him there to find Ruth.

"He's been beaten up badly." he half-informed, half-warned, leading her to the apartment Eric had been moved to. "And-..." Zach absentmindedly brushed his fingers along his neck, indicating there was something else he wished he didn't have to mention. "Don't mention the—" He rubbed the spot on his neck where she would find a tattoo on Eric's as if he wanted to say 'You'll know when you see him'.

[thehusbandoden]

MHA Men When You're Sick - Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, and Hawks (separately ofc)

A/n: I've had a pounding head and a sore throat since yesterday lol, so here's a little comfort thing.

General info:

Genre: comfort&fluff \\ wc: 755 \\ female reader \\ posted: 03/27/24

Bakugo Katsuki (313 words)

“You need to take this, brat. It will help you.”  

You whine childishly, burying your flushed face in Bakugo’s neck. You’ve had a high fever for days. You were too stubborn to tell Bakugo, not wanting to add anything to his heavy workload. He figured out what was happening the third day in and has kept you on bed rest ever since.  

You were currently fully on top of him, curled into his chest, face buried in his neck. The thought of taking medicine filled you with dread, all you wanted was your hubby’s cuddles.

“Baby, you need to take this.” Bakugo let out a long sigh, doing his best to be patient. His attempts were in vain, your whining pushing him to the edge. He gently pushes you off of him, standing up. You let out a whimper from the lack of the comforting contact, looking up at your partner of two years.  

You give him a pout, trying to guilt him to get back in bed. He sighs, measuring out the appropriate medicine. “I’ll come back for cuddles once you take this, okay?”  

You huff, crossing your arms. You do your very best to stay stubborn, but you grew more and more desperate to get your pillow husband back. You reluctantly open your mouth, allowing the pro hero to spoon feed you your medicine. He watches you strictly, making sure you take every last drop.  

Once you do, he relaxes, putting the spoon and bottle down before crawling back into bed. You don’t waste a second, crawling onto him with a giggle. You rub your cheek up against his collarbone and chest, melting into your beloved hubby.  

Bakugo let out a dramatic sigh, trying to keep up his tsundere act. He stroked your hair fondly, even as he acted like he didn’t find you cute- which he does, but he won’t ever admit it.  

(Bakugo's masterlist)

Shoto (303 words)

(He looks so sweet when he smiles T^T)

The sweet sound of happy squeals and giggles arouses you from your slumber. You groan softly, opening your eyes to see your two-year-old twins crawling on top of you and your husband. You grimace as your head pounds.  

You run a hand through the older twin’s hair before shaking Shoto gently. “Baby?” You whisper, he blinks his eyes open, smiling at the sight of you.  

“Yes darling?” He whispers, his hand finding yours.  

“I really don’t feel well this morning...” Shoto frowns, sitting up to kiss your forehead tenderly. He caresses your hair for a few moments before turning to the twins, his eyes lighting up at the sight of your happy babies.  

“Why don’t you rest? I can watch the twins before I go to work? How bad is it, I can call in if I need to.”  

You groan, not wanting to burden the man you adored. He worked hard enough already; he didn’t need yet another thing on his shoulders.  

Before you can protest, Shoto shoots you a look, silently telling you to just relax for once. Shoto knows better than anyone that you work as hard as he does, though you never take credit for it.  

“I-I really need you here today.” You mumble, looking down in embarrassment. You felt foolish for burdening your husband.  

“I’ll call in. Let me get these rascals into the living room and I’ll come check up on you again, okay?” He smiles softly at you, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You try to pull away, grimacing.  

“You’ll get sick.” You pout.  

“And?” He smiles softly, pecking your lips twice before standing up, chasing the twins out of the room, their cackles of joy making your head pound and your heart to swell with pride and joy.  

(Sho's masterlist)

Hawks (149 words)

“Babybird!” Hawks screams dramatically, diving full-force into the glass door on your balcony. You frown, quickly opening the door to help him up.  

“You said you weren’t feeling good?!” Hawks asked, obviously panicking. He didn’t blink an eye to the pain he had just inflicted on himself.  

“I just have a headache baby, it’s not that big of a deal.” You sigh fondly. Hawks takes you in his arms, kissing your forehead and temples.  

“Nothing a little cuddling can’t fix...” he grins, pecking your lips and nose before carrying you bridal style towards the couch.  

You can’t help but giggle, enjoying the pampering you’re getting. “You’re a goof, my love.” You smile, stroking his jaw.  

“I’m your goof.” He smirks, kissing your cheeks and nose. 

“That you are, and you always will be.” You grin, leaning up to press a loving kiss to his lips, which he happily reciprocates.  

(Hawks masterlist)

~~~~~

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! Your sweet comments literally make my day. <33

Main masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[zaineviu]

❛𝘌𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦❜ - 𝘉.𝘊 (𝘚𝘒𝘡)

Synopsis. Looking at you from afar has always been Chris's favourite thing to do. To look at you, to long for you, to feel the adrenaline rush that you would notice him, that you could look at him the way he looks at you. Because he loves you. He loves you too much to let you go, and he won't.

pairings. chan x fem!reader.

content. angst, stalker!chan, yandere!chan, chan is a psychotic freak about you, obsession, slight mention of death.

wc. 2, 303

a/n. My first shot of Chan, honestly ever since I heard this song I knew I had to do something about it.

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

Watching you from afar was one of his favorite things.

The breeze delicately moved your hair, the sunlight kissed your face, revealing the faint traces of old acne scars on your cheeks, the curve of your nose, your eyelashes lowering as you closed your eyes to enjoy the warm day.

You were a dream come true. His dream.

Chris never had a “type” of woman—no, he wasn’t that kind of guy. Since he was a teenager, he knew dating wasn’t for him. He was bad at socializing, uninterested in giving his time to any girl.

But the moment he saw you—walking those wide halls, laughing too loudly with your group of friends—he knew.

It was always you.

From day one, until now.

Christopher loves you. That much is certain.

He was loyal to you—never looked at anyone else, because it would feel like betraying you. So he kept himself together. His eyes? Only yours.

Even if you never knew it, he had already decided: you were his.

Since that very first smile. Since he heard your laugh—that laugh—like a sacred echo that lodged itself in his skull and never stopped playing.

He knows all your gestures.

He knows how you blink when you’re nervous.

He knows how many seconds you take to read a message.

He knows which side of the bed you like to sleep on.

He knows... because he’s watched you.

He’s always watched you.

He’s not crazy—not like they say.

He’s just awake. Awake to real love.

Awake to you.

Yes... it was him.

Remember that day when you said you felt like someone was following you?

Yes... it was him.

Not out of malice. Not for lust. For protection.

Because no one else looks after you like he does.

Because if someone dared hurt you… he’d do things.

Things people don’t speak of.

Things that stain the hands.

Sometimes he talks to you even when you’re not there. He answers you, imagines your voice responding, laughing, crying... begging him never to leave.

And he promises.

He swears it.

Because he never will.

Even if you scream.

Even if you run.

Even if you pray.

Because you don’t understand it yet—but you will.

It was always you.

And now... all that’s left is for you to know it too.

When you got home, coming back from your full-time job, hair messy, shoulders low, makeup smudged—you instantly felt something was off.

Things weren’t where you left them.

Little things.

Insignificant… at first.

A mug you swore you left in the kitchen was now in the living room.

The bathroom door locked—but you don’t remember locking it.

And that feeling. That damn feeling of being watched. Again.

You scan your apartment, cautious. Eyes locked on the back of the living room.

The window’s open, letting the air in.

Always.

In the microwave’s reflection.

In the window at dusk.

In the corner of your peripheral vision.

But when you turn around... nothing.

Except a letter.

A carefully folded piece of paper, like someone ironed it with love.

On the floor. By your feet.

No name. No sender.

Just one line, written in red ink that looked thicker than blood:

"It was always you."

Your heart freezes.

Just one phrase—but there’s something about it. Something familiar.

Like it belonged to you.

Like it spoke from something older than your own memory.

You throw it in the trash, trying to shake off the chill. You just wanted to rest.

But you can’t stop thinking about it.

That night, you can’t sleep.

And then... your phone buzzes.

Unknown number. No name. No photo.

Just three words:

“You’re not alone.”

You block it. Ignore it. Deny it.

But deep down, you know it’s a lie.

Because it’s not the first time.

Because your brush no longer has your fallen hair.

Because you swore someone breathed behind you in the shower.

Because the laughter.

That laugh.

You heard it. In your house.

And it wasn’t yours.

You no longer know if you're losing your mind, or if someone is tearing it apart, piece by piece.

You change the lock on your door. You install cameras.

You say it's for safety, but it's a lie.

It's because you're scared.

And fear has a scent. It clings. It becomes part of you like a perfume you can’t wash off. The dark circles under your lifeless eyes are proof of your sleepless nights and the fear.

You check the footage in the middle of the night. Nothing but noise. Static. A strange interference at 3:12 a.m.

A silhouette. A half-seen face. Too blurry. Too close. And just when you think it’s all in your mind... the face smiles.

And you scream.

You screamed last night. He heard it. He was there.

In the hallway. In the dark.

God, how he loves your voice when it trembles.

Christopher moves like a shadow. No—he is the shadow. Your shadow.

He doesn’t need to come through the door if he knows the house better than you. He watched you build your routine, like an unconscious dance:

06:50 you wake up.

07:02 you pour your oat milk coffee.

07:05 you stare out the window. Not looking for anyone, just observing the neighborhood.

But he wishes you would. That you’d finally see him.

He’s not like the others. He doesn’t love you like they do.

He belongs to you.

And you—though you haven’t accepted it yet because you don’t know it—you belong to him too.

In his apartment, there’s a shrine. Not religious.

A sacred one. With photos of you from years ago. A napkin stained with your lipstick. A lock of your hair he picked up from your brush.

A voice recording taken from one of your Instagram stories, which he now listens to on repeat. Pictures printed from your social media, all of them kept in his closet.

And in the center, a note written in your handwriting, torn from an old notebook where you signed: "Forever yours."

You don’t remember writing it. But Chris does. He remembers everything.

This morning, you woke up with a rose on your bed.

A red one. Perfect. Thornless.

And a note taped to the stem:

“You’re almost ready to understand.”

You picked up the rose with a furrowed brow, your eyes inspecting it.

So red. So delicate. So beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you can’t throw it away.

You keep it. Stare at it. Smell it.

And for a second, you feel it: That sweet, poisonous sensation of being loved too much by someone you don’t even know.

Someone who walks through your house with so much freedom, it terrifies you how natural it feels.

But the fear returns. Because you don’t know where it came from.

Because you don’t trust anything or anyone anymore.

Your friends say you’re becoming paranoid. That you need rest.

They suggest you go out, get some air, go somewhere “he” can’t find you.

But you know the truth.

There’s nowhere to run when someone already lives inside your shadow.

And that night, when you were home, on your couch with a book in your hands… someone called.

You don’t know how they got your number. The caller ID says “Unknown.”

But something in your gut twists before you even hear the voice.

—Hello, love.

Silence. Screaming silence. Your eyes widen as you look around, dropping the book.

—Who are you?

A chuckle. Low. Warm. Sick.

—Don’t say that. It breaks my heart. I thought you were starting to understand...

Your body freezes as soon as you recognize the voice.

—Christopher? —You say it without thinking. The name comes out like a strangled whisper.

And on the other end of the line, he... moans.

—God… hearing you say my name like that… You have no idea what that does to me.

—What do you want from me?

—I want you to remember.

To remember what we had. What we have. What we’ve always been.

You hang up. Shaking. But he keeps talking, as if the call never ended.

His voice… echoes in your living room.

And the I love you that filled your home like a scream.

The TV screen turns on by itself, showing a recording.

You. Sleeping. From the foot of your bed.

The date: three nights ago.

And in the corner of the video, a barely audible whisper:

“It was always you.”

—Almost there, love.

—You’re almost ready to understand.

Chris sits in front of his shrine. In front of his collection of “memories.”

In his hands, a small box, wrapped with a black ribbon.

Inside, something missing from your home that he kept with love.

Your silver ring. The one you thought you lost in the shower weeks ago.

On the lid, another note:

“I’ll give it back when you come home. To our home.”

You come home after trying to distract your friends on an outing to the park. But something doesn't fit when you walk in.

You don't smell your perfume or the smell of your scented candles.

You smell something else.

Sandalwood incense. The one you hate. The one you said once, years ago, out loud and unimportantly, that you would never use.

And yet… there it is.

The air is warm. The atmosphere, thick.

And your house… it's not empty.

You go straight to the kitchen. Your heart in your neck. Legs like water.

And then you see it.

The table is set.

Candles lit. Two plates. Your favourite crockery.

And in the centre, your favourite food, hot, steaming, ready to eat.

All perfectly placed. With a red flower on your napkin.

And a glass of wine already poured. Waiting for you.

Your body wants to scream. Your mind tells you to run.

But your feet won't move.

On the back of the chair in front of you… a jacket.

Black. Leather. With a familiar smell.

"You're just in time"', his voice says. Behind you. Close to your ear.

And then your world shatters.

You are more beautiful up close.

Chris looks at you as one who looks at a divine work, perfect, on the verge of tears.

"I prepared everything just the way you like it… even the wine you drank on your birthday in 2021. Do you remember? That day you said you had never felt so much peace".

You recoil. But he doesn't move. Not a threat in his gestures. Just… adoration.

"How did you get in?"

"Love, I never left".

Your hand trembles. You take the knife from the plate. You pick it up.

And he smiles. He smiles as if you were playing. As if that knife were just another flower.

"lways so strong… so brave,’ he whispers. ‘That's why I chose you. That's why I love you. Because only someone like you could break me so completely".

You approach. With your knife held high.

But you can't.

Because there's something in her eyes.

It's not madness.

It's love.

"Do you want to kill me?" He asks, unafraid. "Do it. I swear I'll let you do it. But first… just tell me something…"

Silence.

"You never felt anything? Not once?"

And for one damned moment… a part of you, a tiny part buried in the deepest darkness, doesn't know what to answer.

You want to scream. You want to run. But the world has become slow, distorted, like a dream you can't wake up from.

And then you see the box. The same one as the ring.

You feel like you're not breathing.

The knife is still in your hand.

He is still standing. Waiting for you. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, as if he were happy. As if this is all he's ever wanted.

"What do you want from me, Chris?" you spit, your throat burning.

"You. Only you. Always you. Is that so hard to understand?"

"You follow me, you videotape me, you break into my house!"

"Because it's my home too!" He suddenly cries out, his eyes injected, taking a step towards you "Do you know what it's like to love so fervently that your chest aches? Do you know what it's like to watch the world touch what's yours and remain silent?"

Stand back. The knife trembles in your hand. He notices.

'You're not going to do it".

"Oh no?" you reply through gritted teeth.

"No, love. Because you know me. Because you know this isn't hateful. It's love. It's the most real love you're ever going to have in your life".

And then he lunges at you.

You scream. The knife is raised. A struggle. A thud. Something falls. Glass. Screams. He holds you by the arms, tight, like he's going to break you… or protect you.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!" he roars. "Not after EVERYTHING I did for you".

"You took my life from me!" you scream in his face, and in that instant you plunge the knife into his shoulder.

Chris falls.

He groans. Not from pain. Of something closer to ecstasy.

"That… that's what I like about you…" he gasps, laughing with tears "That you were never weak…"

He bleeds. But he crawls towards you.

"And that's why… that's why if you're not mine… you won't be anyone else's either".

He pulls something out of your pocket. A second knife.

You run. He crawls. The house becomes a field of war, doors slamming, wild breaths, blood staining the floor.

It all ends in the bedroom.

The two of you inside.

The door closed.

The night screaming outside.

And then...

Silence.

A distant siren.

Neighbours murmuring outside their doors looking at yours.

A bloodstain in the hallway. Two plates served in the kitchen, lighted candles melting.

Police enter.

No body.

Just the knife lying there.

And a note on the pillow, written in obsessively beautiful handwriting:

‘It was always you.’

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 1)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. MDNI

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@dollywons credits for the divider, thank you :))

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt2 pt3 pt4

“Fuck off” you muttered to your Alex. Today was already as hard as it was. You didn't need him giving you unnecessary advice on how to grief a patient.

Who does he think he is?? You thought to yourself. Listening to a bratty egotistical younger resident telling you what to do when your patient dies during surgery? No. At least you will not tolerate his behavior.

Growing up with a careless single mother in poverty may have made you like this. Always numb and cold. That's just what people think of you.

You weren't always this unattending. In the first year of medical school, you were the nicest and the most helpful student there is. Things changed as your career proceeded within the years. You saw how ugly people can be. They took you as weak and something they can use to get what they want.

Not again. Never again

The loud alarm went off in the hospital wing. You quickly got up as your pager rang. In-room 303, there was a little girl. 10 years old, had a diagnosis of cardiomyopathy. When you were working the night shift and doing regular rounding checkups, she talked about her birthday plan to you.

“I want Princess Jasmine to attend my birthday party. Her hair is so long and shiny and pretty and, and she's pretty. She's also so smart. Mommy promised me she would come” the girl suddenly stopped. After a few seconds she opened her mouth again.

“She said she… she will come if I live… will I live? Doctor?”

You thought about the past as the attending announced her time of death. 23:44. 12th of May, 2015.

Two patients. Two patients. In one day.

Hiding from people, you hugged your knees in the corner of an empty hallway as you sobbed. God. People thought you were heartless. What other choice do you have when you have no choice but to leave your toxic mother who had no other motivation in life other than drinking, to build a better future for yourself. What other choice do you have when you were the best student in the school but had no money for college? Would you rather stay with your mom to take care of her all your life, doing everything that drives you insane or follow your dreams?

Unfortunately for you, your dream was not something you imagined. Burden, depression, exhaustion were the main 3 words you could use for this job.

Not to mention the creepy, flirty attendings. Always being underestimated by the men in the field.

After the long hard 24 hours and arguing with your mentor about your recent research about brain cancer, you took a box with your belongings.

Bitch

The old fat man fired you for standing up for yourself. Why would you allow anyone to take ideas from your paper? Especially if they were your teacher.

Fine. I'll find a better job in a better hospital.

After putting on your comfortable black coat and causing your boss to fire you for no actual good reason, you walked to your car with the box in your hand.

“Fuck” you yelled as you struggled to open the car door with the damn box in hand. In the reflection of the car window at midnight you saw a face behind you. Just as you were going to turn away, something was put around your nose and mouth and everything went black.

Leon grinned to himself as he carefully put the young woman in his jeep. Tonight was the new moon. There was almost no light in the parking lot and he was sure the cameras couldn't catch the glimpse of his face.

He observed her for a few weeks. First he got a little headache and decided to go to the hospital, only to find a little angel for himself.

Leon noticed she was quite unique compared to the women he met before. Even though he wouldn't say she's rude, she wasn't exactly nice either. He was sure he could fix her up nicely to become a sweet little wife for him.

His baby just needed some guidance in life. What would he be if he let go of this girl to become a rude old bitch. Instead she could help the community by giving Leon a family he wanted for the last few months too much.

Staring at his sweet pumpkin through the rear view window, he was planning what to do next. For the last week he had already planned what to do. But his bunny was in a worse condition than he thought. Overworked herself, dressed in sad gloomy clothes. He would strip her out of these and put her in comfortable , cotton pajamas.

And feed her. He knows what she eats in a day. Sad cold dark coffee with a tuna sandwich for breakfast. No lunch. Leftover pizza or burger for dinner. Leon will make sure she eats plenty of vegetables and homemade food that will nurture her.

During the night he changed her clothes to what he had bought for her.

“Just perfect” he muttered as the t-shirt he got fit her perfectly. Hugging her waist, making her breast more prominent. He held himself back from touching her cunt as he pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

He sniffed her and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. “I’ll show you how much I love you when you wake up honey. Not yet… Leon… gotta wait” he muttered to himself.

He put a little underwear on her and undressed himself. Crawling next to the love of his life, Leon put an alarm at 4am on his phone.

“The drug should be out by then,” Leon thought as he cuddled her.

After a few hours Leon was woken by clicking on the doorknob. His angel had woken up and was trying to open the door. Leon sneakily grabbed his phone and looked at the time. 3am.

The blonde signed and got up, causing his angel to scream and throw a vase on the shelf nearby at him.

“Get away from me, you freak!” you yelled, almost on the verge of crying making Leon's heart beat faster. He hated seeing you in pain.

“It's okay. It's okay, baby. Everything will be alright.” Leon cooed, getting up from the bed to her.

“Step away!” You screamed, throwing the left souvenirs on the shelf to him.

Leon walked in a few short big steps, in hurry and stopping you before you hurt yourself.

“It's okay my baby. Daddys here to take care of you. It's okay. Calm down. Everything will be okay.. no more work, no more ignoring yourself. It's okay..” Leon muttered trying to calm you down. He gripped your arms tightly above your head while kissing your head.

You squirm while sobbing, trying to kick him.

“What did I do to you?? Let me go.” You demanded squirming more, causing Leon to tighten his grip. Leon kept muttering to you his reassuring words while kissing your face all over when you managed to kick him in the crotch.

He let go of you and inhaled deeply, trying not to lash out on his dove on their 1st day as a couple.

“Y/n…. Honey… calm down…” he breathed out.

After a while of trying, Leon gave up. The constant cursing and screaming were giving him an awful headache, same as the ones he gets after missions.

“SHUT UP BITCH” he yelled at you, shaking your arms. Your eyes widened as you shut down, the room was quite apart from your sniffling and leons hard breathing.

“Please… just… let me go…” you sniffed out. You haven't felt this humiliated and weak since you were a little girl. Since your mother used to beat you after not cooking for her. Since you went against her words. Your childhood wasn't something you liked talking about, nor getting pity from strangers. You wanted nothing to do with the alcoholic bitch. When you were near her, you were a prisoner.

Ironic, now I'm a real prisoner

Leon breathed out and stared intensely. Suddenly he grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him before jumping on the bed. You protested, tried to bite his arm, kick him, scream, call for help, every way. Leon almost tore the piece of garments he put on her before.

“What are you doing?? Stop. No. Stop-” you protested, only for him to shut you up with a kiss.

After the first night, Leon felt guilty. Not because he made love to his lover when she was throwing a tantrum. But because of the way he lashed out on her. For the last few days she was avoiding him, sitting in corners, not eating or making any noise. After a while being a gentleman as he is, Leon decided to surprise his bunny.

“Honey. I'm home” Leon smiled, locking the doors securely. He hid a small box behind his back.

You crawled away from him, to the edge of the bed. Leon reached out his hand to pull your hair back.

“My beautiful baby. Did you miss me?” He grinned stupidly. You wanted to cry. But you didn't want to show him your weakness, especially after that night. Leon frowned as you pulled your head back.

“Look what daddy got you sweet girl. I know you overworked yourself so daddy got you vitamins.” He grinned as he showed the box.

You frowned seeing it. The multi vitamins that had fruit flavors.

���Don't you like it? Daddy got you this one specifically because the pharmacist told me a lot of trying women get it” Leon smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

You snatched the vitamin to see what it has.

Vitamin D, B6, B12, Vitamin C, Vitamin A, B9

What the actual fuck

“Are you insane??” You yelled. Leon's eyebrows raised. You finally said a word to him after the event, but yelling at him? He can't be having his wife yelling at the breadwinner.

“Dove. Watch your mouth” Leon said calmly, but his grip tightened.

“All I ever wanted for you is happiness honey. We will have many children. Look around the bedroom honey. The outside. Can't you see we are more than available to raise children? You're young and beautiful. We can have children. For now, I'm worried you're short on essential vitamins. And I heard it could affect fertility” Soon his eyes narrowed as he understood it was necessary to take another way.

“I know what I did was… wrong… Maybe you would have wanted me to approach it in a traditional way. But I just couldn't wait for you. Plus… you already know you would have rejected my offer. You were too deep in hurting yourself. I'm helping you. I'm helping us. We're building a future. Together”

“You should go to therapy”

Leon narrowed his eyes again. “Sleep well angel. You're not clearly thinking well” he said, kissing the forehead before lying beside you.

During the night you tossed around. What if you could overdose on vitamins and just end this suffering? There was no one to look out for you. You got fired, the only family you have is an alcoholic that you cut contact with, and no real friends. You were alone in this.

[pukefactory]

glisten with a reader who loves to bite the everloving shit out of him for no reason unsolicited. please and thank you. *hands over -0. 3 cents as "payment"* (i just stole 0.3 cents from you haha)

As a habitual biter myself, this was fun to write and sink my teeth into, hehe. Also, hey! Give me my three cents back! >:(

˚₊‧꒰ა . —— BITE! BITE! —— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♫ Summary: Glisten with a reader who cannot stop biting him

♫ Character(s): Glisten (Dandy’s World)

♫ Reader Pronouns: Non Specified

♫ Genre: Short Story, Fluff, SFW

♫ Word Count: 303

♫ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

Glisten sat at his vanity, applying his usual makeup as part of his daily routine. He picked up his blush brush and gently dusted his glass cheeks, carefully blending the color to achieve as symmetrical a look as possible. After a few minutes, he examined his reflection, slowly tilting his head from side to side, admiring his work. Satisfied, he set the brush down and reached for his eyeshadow palette.

CHOMP!

Glisten let out a startled scream, yanking his hand to his chest in both shock and pain. His wide, panicked eyes darted around the room, searching for the culprit—until they landed on you. You were crouched behind his chair, a mischievous, toothy grin spreading across your face.

“What was that for!?” he snapped. “You could’ve ruined my makeup, you know!”

“It was just a little bite!” you said, standing up.

“A little bite!? Look, look at this bruise!” He extended his hand toward you dramatically.

You leaned in to inspect it—but there was absolutely nothing there.

“There’s nothing there,” you pointed out.

“Yes, there—OW!”

Before he could finish, you nibbled at his hand again. He yanked it away, glaring at you.

“STOP THAT!”

You giggled, flashing him a clear view of your sharp, pointed teeth. “You might bruise now.”

Glisten backed away from you like you were some kind of wild animal, clutching his supposedly wounded hand as if you had nearly taken it off. His over-the-top reaction only encouraged you further. You took a slow step toward him, grinning wide.

“Stop that,” he warned, inching farther away. “Stop that right now.”

For a moment, you stood still—before suddenly lunging at him.

Glisten shrieked, sidestepping just in time and bolting out of the room.

“SOMEONE HELP! THERE’S A RABID ANIMAL TRYING TO EAT MY FACE!”

“I only bit your hand!”

“HELP! HEEEELP!”

[manjirosanosrealwife]

Did someone say player 333?

NAH. ROOM 303 AND ROOM 304 FOREVER

I can't get over how FINE Lee Dong-wook was in this show. I NEED ANOTHER SEASON BUT I'LL NEVER COME 😫😫

[bridgetfromwonderland]

•• I’m a nerd so of course I looked into why they chose to close up in this room number or why they chose this number for Bridget’s room… ••

•• Not sure how much truth there is to this but I found that verrrrry interesting… 👀 ••

(Also the fact it’s Red knocking on the door… maybe I’m trying way too hard to connect the dots BUT I MEAN C’MONNN 😆)

•🎀 #303 = Mom 🎀•

[leedongwook]

”Hey, wait. Yes? The young man in room 303 seems to meet that police officer often. It seemed like he gave her something this morning. Did you see what it was? I saw them from afar, so I didn't get a good look. What should we do? We can probably deal with the young man in room 303, but that female officer. Should we get rid of her?"

Strangers from Hell 타인은 지옥이다 // Episode 5