#some days my arms do not work bc of pain and it's Great

[nukenai]

Sucks to have to interrupt light teasing about not doing something with "I am dealing with a debilitating medical condition and do not have regular assistance with daily tasks" bc then everyone feels bad and it sucks

[ynsvnte]

The dance of the ballet ! — Park Sunghoon

pairing: ballerino!hoon x ballerina!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, one shot

word count: 2.4k

warnings: kissing, swearing, blowjob, handjob, boob-sucking, pet names, piv, unprotected sex, degrading, cunnilingus, creampie. a bit of aftercare

Synopsis: with a show coming up soon. You and your partner decide to take one day and practice alone together. A bit of teasing goes along the way, causing more than practice to happen.

Quick note: apologies if there are mistakes as I have no idea how ballet works (I know very little about it) and tried doing some research on this before writing — also not proofread umm bc it’s 5 am and I wrote for an hour just to finish this.

Masterlist

Upon arrival, you can already hear the music.. Swan lake.. of course everyone knew this. You set your bag down and watch as your partner.. dances by himself.. admiring him.. as it goes silent the next moment.. you cough slightly, catching the male’s attention.

“Oh hey..” Sunghoon says while heavily breathing.

“Hey.. ready for practice?” You asked hoping to ease the awkwardness surrounding the both of you. “I guess so..” It’s that you and Sunghoon are practicing alone. Usually you would only practice with the whole group but not today. You take a sip before changing your shoes to pointe shoes. You prepare your feet before slipping on your toe pad, and sliding your feet into the shoe. You adjusted yourself before walking up to Sunghoon who seems to be warming up. “There we can start..”

He just nodded his head before starting the music. As soon as you hear the first instrument.. you become slightly nervous.. you try not to pay attention to the male right next to you. You didn’t know what it was but you felt some kind of attraction towards him. Not that you told anyone yet about your feelings for your partner.

You wait off on the side as the infamous “Swan lake 1. SCENE” plays.. you watch as you wait for the next song to be over so you can start your part. Just like magic.. the next song plays, Sunghoon continues to dance as you watch.. You prepare yourself as you finally start.. Sunghoon is far away, watching you.. Your part is towards the end so you only have a short moment.. and as you stand there the next song starts.. you begin dancing again.. points shoes.. holding you up.. as you twirl.. then Sunghoon begins.. as he “chases” you in the dance.. then he finally catches up to you.. grabbing you arm and turning around.. you both make eye contact. And as everything seems to go fast you separate yourself apart and soon it’s Sunghoon “protecting” you from Rothbart.. in usual rehearsal.. everyone would be here but because it’s a private rehearsal it’s only you two..

Then the third song finished. You breathe for air.. and fall flat on your feet.. you could feel the pain slowly coming.. as Sunghoon pauses.. you take a seat on the floor exhausted from dancing non-stop for 5 minutes.. feet in pain.. you lie down before closing your eyes.. but once you open your eyes Sunghoon is above you staring at you..

“Need something..?” You asked him. He shakes his head before lying down right next to you on the floor.. “Exhausted..?” He asked, looking at the lights. “Hell yeah my feet fucking hurt from standing in point for minutes straight..” you could feel his eyes on you. You tried to ignore it before.. turning your head to the side.. making eye contact. You look into his eyes.. his eyes are on something. Your lips.. “Is something on my lips..?” Sunghoon's face looks surprised.. “N-no nothing..” he sighs before getting up and walking away.. Great way to ruin the mood. But his gaze looked like he wanted to do something.. maybe even kiss you.

You shake your thoughts off and sit right back up. The silence between you two gets louder if even possible. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Slowly gaining back your energy. You could see Sunghoon from the mirror seemingly drinking some water but you focus your gaze back onto yourself.

“What if we never got our roles..?” You asked out of the blue. “What do you by that?” Sunghoon looks at you. You turn your head to face him. “What if we never got our parts we have now we both wouldn’t be here.” You kept a blank face. Giving Sunghoon a hard time to figure out your true intentions on the question. “And what makes you ask that?” You keep quiet for a bit before answering. “Nothing, just wondering. Like what if someone else got your part with me.. or the other way around. Or maybe we both didn’t get the parts.” You rambled on. Sunghoon could only help smile a bit. “You’re so cute.” Sunghoon doesn’t realize he said only after your reaction. Your eyes widen as your voice slowly fades out. You feel yourself sweating. “What did you say..”

“I-nothing..” It’s too late, regardless. “You said I’m cute..” you point at him then yourself. “Is there something you’re hiding, hmm..?” You look at him in an amused expression. Sunghoon Can feel the tip of his ears slowly becoming warmer, probably even a bit red. “Why would I be hiding something.. that would be weird.” He states, defending himself for your accusation. “Sure like anyone would believe you, now tell me.” Of course he couldn’t hide anything for shit. “I did say you’re cute but it was by accident, it just came out of nowhere.. I’m not denying you aren’t cute or anything I just-“ Sunghoon sighs giving up on explaining himself.

You could help but laugh.. “and what if I said the same thing about you.” You stare into his eyes, expression turning into a slight confident one. His own eyes widened, surprised. “Me..?” He was too stunned. Frozen in place. Your smirk widens as you stand up and walk towards him. “Correct..” You could tell you made him extremely nervous and shy. “Why..? Do you like it.?” You teased him. “I-what no why would I..I like it.” He rambled, making you believe the opposite. “Sure like I would believe you. Now tell me the truth. Do you like being called cute?” Sunghoon stared right into your eyes. Noticing the glint of lust in them. “And what if I say yes?” Was he now trying to annoy you or what? “I don’t know.. say it and you’ll find out.” You won’t give up. You really want him to say yes, but you don't know him that well to really know what answer you'll end up receiving.

Sunghoon's heart beats quicker than before. The look you’re giving him causes something in him to quite enjoy it. But he had an ego of course. Not wanting that and his pride to get damaged at all. But he rather shocks himself once the words leave his mouth.

“Yes..” Oh he wished he could take it back but it was a little too late for that. He watched you as you slightly laughed before smirking.. you approached him closing the space left between you two. Bodies against bodies. You look right up at him. The move takes him aback. Lips against each other as you start kissing him. Sunghoon couldn’t help but kiss you back enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. A perfect fit. He thought. He tries to bring you closer. Arms wrapping around your waist as your arms begin to go around his neck.

Lips sloppily moving against each other. You get pressed back onto the wall as you both continue making out. You shiver as his hands start to make way down your thigh, fingertips grazing against your inner thighs. You open your eyes, staring at him before he pulls away from your lips feeling your eyes on him.

“What’s the staring for, hmm?” He places an arm above your head onto the wall, caging you in. You get flustered.. His other arm is now on your hip. Softly pinching it a bit. “Nothing.. Just couldn’t help it” You state, eyes on each other. Your heart starts to fasten, being this close to Sunghoon was not on today’s plan. “Is that so? Or is there something more that I just don’t know..” Sunghoon could feel there’s more to it..

Smirking while staring right down at you, admiring you. “What if.. I wanna fuck you” You pull him down by his neck bring your lips to the shell of his ear, whispering. Sunghoon pauses a bit, a little taken aback at your statement. “Like right now?” he says in disbelief, but not also hating the idea of fucking. “Of course right now..” You whined, hand resting on his growing bulge. You give it a light squeeze causing him to lean his head back, groaning. “Fuck the things you do to me.” his voice turned raspy. “Are sure..?” He asked you, making sure you don’t feel uncomfortable. “When it comes to you.. I’m always sure..” you tease him a bit.

Sunghoon could only scoff before kissing you again. At this point you forgot the whole point of being here. Your hands slowly start making their way under Sunghoon’s shirt. Sunghoon pulls away before pulling off his shirt. Seeing him shirtless for the first time, you could only smile. He seemed to rush you a bit, pulling you closer to him embracing you in his arms. He pulls your shirt off you, leaving you in your bra. His hands unclasp your bra. As your bra falls to the ground, He cups both of your breasts, before lightly sucking on one. You leaned your head back in pleasure. “Heh-eager?” You looked down at him, getting more wet by each second passing by. Sunghoon only nodded his head, too busy to respond.

“Who knew princess had cute boobs hmm..?” He smirks at you. Enjoying your reaction. “Oh shut up.” You glared at him. Sunghoon drags you to the floor, back against the wall, and you straddle him. Feeling his rock hard cock pressing up against your clothed cunt.

“Excited much..” you murmur, your hands grip the band of his sweatpants, he lifts himself up a bit helping you pull them down. You throw his sweatpants somewhere else in the room, admiring the view right in front of you. You rubbed your palm over his covered cock. Placing kisses on his neck. “What do you want me to do?” You whispered in his ear. “You know..” he quietly responded. “What I am supposed to know?” Sunghoon glares at you before holding you in place.

“Knowing how much I want you.” He says, patience clearly running out. “Yeah pretty obvious” you scoff, making your way back in front of him. You slightly pull down his boxers, cock jumping out, pre-cum leaks from the tip. Slight veins decorate the surface. You smile before looking right back at him. Eyes meeting, you keep your eyes locked as you open your mouth bringing his cock closer and closer. Finally once his tip touches your tongue, he hissed, enjoying the feeling of your tongue alone.

You take more of him in your mouth, moaning softly to get him worked up. Few more seconds and you fully have him in your mouth, gagging a bit. Sunghoon only moaned loudly. “Shit you feel so good. Such a little slut huh?” He stares you down. You moan around him. You back away. Cock now covered in saliva, you start lightly sucking on his balls, while stroking his cock, hand wrapped around his base. Sunghoon reaches out, his hand covering over yours. Helping you out with his length. The sounds of his moans bounce off the wall. Both of you are lucky to not have any cameras in this practice room. You stop sucking before licking strokes of his base, getting him closer to the edge. His fastens the pace of your hands. On the spot he begins coming.. letting some fall onto the floor, both of your hands covered in his release.

He removes his hand over yours, forces his cum-covered fingers into your mouth. “Suck. C’mon now sweetheart.” You obey him and begin to lick his fingers clean. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth grabbing your hands and making you suck your own. After that he forces you onto the floor on your back. Cold floor hitting your bare back, making you shiver. Sunghoon quickly undoes your beaten pointe shoes, getting them out of the way and pulls down your leg warmers.

“Damn why so much clothing?” You only laugh at his comment. “Gotta kept myself from feeling any pain.” He finally removes your leggings. Exposing your soaked underwear. “Excited much” Sunghoon says, mocking you from earlier. He spreads your legs, placing kisses on your inner thighs. He kisses your covered core. He licks you from your underwear.. you let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling of him tasting you. He pulls down your underwear and hurriedly begins to eat you out. Slurping your juices, he moans burying himself into your cunt. “Hah-more..” your toes curl as the feeling of pleasure.

Sunghoon gives your clit one more kiss. “Hey what are you doing?” You glared at him, confused why you didn’t finish off. “You think you’ll be coming on my mouth. Sweetheart. The only thing you’ll be coming on is this cock.” He says in a deep voice turning you more on. He pushes inside you. Welcomed with the tight, warm feeling of your cunt squeezing him. “So tight, just for me.” He starts off slowly, letting you adjust. “You can go faster..” you say quietly. Sunghoon hears you, increasing his pace immediately. You close your eyes. Taking in the feeling. Few more minutes of getting pounded down pass by. “Holy shit- close sweetheart.. hmm how about we come together.. wouldn’t you like that.” You nodded your head. Taking one hand starts to rub your clit. Hoping to hurry up. Sunghoon goes even faster chasing his own high.

At last he comes inside of you, triggering your own orgasm. You moan out loud only to be quiet down by Sunghoon kissing you. As you shake a bit from your own orgasm. Sunghoon kisses your cheek. “Shh, quiet down a bit sweetheart.. we’re not the only ones here remember.” Oh right. Sunghoon pulls out before dressing up. He grabs a tissue from his own bag. Cleaning you up. He hands you your clothes helping you dress up.

After cleaning up. You put on your boots. Only to feel a pair of arms around your waist. “I’ll take you home sweetheart..” he kisses your cheek, you giggle. “So what are we?” you say pulling away, and picking up your bag from the floor. You both exit the practice room. Hand in hand. “What do you mean ‘what are we?’ Yn we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now” he pouts.

“Hm? I don’t recall. You never gave me a heads up” you say holding back your laughter. “Okay fine. As you exit the building he stops and grabs both of your hands.

“Yn do I have the honors to be your boyfriend?” He asks, blushing. You smile, kissing his nose. “Of course..” Sunghoon smiled widely, grabbing your arm and dragging you to his car. “I think I’ll take you home with me now, girlfriend.”

Author’s note: LONGEST FIC I WROTE IMAGINE ME WRITING A LONGER ONESHOT BYEEEE ! Do I hate it? Yes the smut part but the ending giving my brain a good smooch. Me and hoon in other universe mate.

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[lomlompurim]

What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.

Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.

What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.

(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)

So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.

The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.

His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!

And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.

The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.

Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.

Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.

The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...

Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.

"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.

"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"

"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"

-TBC-

[candiid-caniine]

slutpuppy tip of the day ✨

look ppl I've never been good at humping. idk if it's my anatomy or my lack of hip mobility or what, but humping the way I see in porn gifs has never worked for me, and it's always made me rly sad bc humping is just soooo puppy 😭

until now!!

if ur like me, and humping is difficult for you, and you want a way to make yourself look even more pathetic while edging, read on ✨

you will need:

(probably) a cunt - may work with a penis but I don't have one so idk!

pillows for support

a wand vibrator (others will prob work as long as they're sturdy/securable)

some way to keep it upright

here's what you're gonna do:

find a comfy position in some combination of chest down, ass up. get creative w pillows :)

secure your vibe upright below your spread legs ;) I did this by literally moving my arm under me and holding it in position, but I got a crick in my shoulder for it, so won't be doing that again ✌️ lol

you want it to be somewhere you can easily rub your clit/cock against it by moving ur hips up and down.

once it's there...get humping :3 think rly hard about how pathetically needy you must look, with your legs spread humping like a lil puppy dog 💕

notes:

this is a great (read: terrible!! mean!!!) exercise in self control. u have to either physically drop the vibe when ur at the edge, or move your hips away if it's secured some other way.

the problem ofc is that being in humpy drooly puppy mode makes this rlly hard >:c can't think.. can't rebmemer 😭

so I ruined before I was planning to. and let me fucking tell u. something about being in that position, both being so spread open and also being hella humiliated, made my ruin so. fucking. meannnn. I whined into my pillow and humped the air like a dumb slut 💕

given that this had me such a drooly puppy mess, I'll probably be made to edge like this for the foreseeable future 😭

possible variations:

if ur a dom and u make ur sub do this while ur passively ignoring them n throwing out little mean comments once in awhile as they put their ass into it just to get ur attention?? ur so mean 😭 ur so hot I'm begging u to DM me lol

securing the vibe independently and putting the sub in bondage that only juuuust allows them to hump properly is. hh.. (obviously do this safely af, esp if doing it solo)

u could experiment with the position of the vibe, then put constraints on your bodily positioning, to essentially make it doubly hard to get enough stimulation to hit the edge 🥺 juust add to the frustration and the desperation 💕

would be great in combo with other toys...puppy tail plug? labia spreader? dildo gag??

or even...some kind of spiky thing, also secured in the area, that would mean every time u rut against the vibrator, somethin painful is digging into ur ass or labia or w/e 💕💕

combine it w hypno. combine it w a humiliating mantra. combine it w figging. this could work with so many types of scenes :3

[the-moon-files]

I was actually thinking about this a lot but like as an add on to your humans are hylian space orcs thing. I am in ✨need✨ of reader trying potions. Like;

"This potion will restore your stamina and boost your strength"

"Buddy that's just coffee"

"Qué?"

Even worse if when the reader tries it it's just like the most not strong coffee they've ever drank. Makes the guys wonder wtf makes humans need so much energy through out the day.

this is such a cute idea, i love how diet diffs/energy diffs in humans are space orcs aus, so genius to apply to hylians

the stamnia boost potion tastes just like instant coffee with powdered creamer (the kind at like car dealerships/shitty offices where its not even a little liquid creamer)

and u spit that shit out like wtf is this bs

and Four, poor guy who gave you some after talking a break from walking, is like "oh my goddess r u allergic?? can still breath???"

meanwhile ur like. "yeah this just tastes like shit-"

four: "oh well yeah, all potions do really-"

you: "-ty coffee. this is nowhere near strong enough to get me back on my feet ffs"

four: " 👁️👄👁️"

you: "u got anything stronger? :/ "

four: " w h a t ? "

cue u researching how to make stamnia potions, across the hyrules, and making them 10x stronger so theyre like an actual coffee shop kind of coffee, and the Links are literally lowkey scared

Time forbids you (and the rest of the guys) from letting anyone else try ur "improved" elixir (s)

bc yes, u didnt stop at stamnia

u moved on to healing potions, (u can now regrow limbs and heal broken bones, the hylians can only take like a 1/16th of a sip like once a week, whereas u chug the whole thing, and can do so multiple times a day if needed)

u also moved onto cooking, bc rlly how different is cooking from alchemy?

and goron spice tasted like goddamn dorito chips, so u used essence of literal lava to help make it more spicy,

ur not allowed to introduce this new spice to the gorons, Wild forbid, bc he was adventurous enough (and snuck behind Time and ur backs) to try some spice

(he literally touched the tip of his pinky finger to it, wiped it off, except for 1 like flake of spice too)

and it lowkey nearly killed him 💀

like had to use that 1/16th of ur extra strong healing potion and everything

u felt so bad, but he did do this to himself,

and Wild knew the gorons dont back down from a challenge, esp since it was originally their recipe, so he (and you) didnt wanna kill them on accident

the sleeping potion u found is just like taking a single melatonin gummy, so u ofc make that thing knock even you out after 2 sips,

needless to say, no one is trying that one, not only bc it knocked Rulie unconcious for 12 hours straight (u got him to try it after he exhausted all his magic healing, and so no nightmares)

but bc it knocked u out cold for 9. that was the scarier part to them lmao, was how affected is their human by this?

i like to think thats how they judge unknown foods and liquids too,

like "do you think this tastes unseasoned? ok should be perfect for me then" - every Link

"oh this didnt make u feel sleepy at all/barely tired? great, id love to knock out cold w/no nightmares tonight" - Sky, probably

"this tastes like that thing you call, instant cough? ko-fee? Cool, give me some i need to run up this mountain" - Wild, for the 3rd time this month probably

"this barely healed ur papercut? sweet, give me some my wrists are killing me" - poor Legend, he uses ur extra strength healing potion as a way to treat his arthritis regularly once a month, but the more chill potions for any leftover aches and pains, esp after long fights being hard on his arms

Chain is simultaneously still lowkey terrified u need that much extra oomf, esp when u run out of stronger stuff and have to down like 5 health potions to heal a cut that needed stitches,

and also worried u need that much and also Wild/Wars/Rulie tend to work overtime to make sure they have extra potions for you

and theyre also kind of impressed, bc hey, youre unlikely to get magically poisoned/potion poisoned like them

☆

sorry i couldnt think of as much as i hoped, i think its bc i rlly just need to play/watch more loz games besides botw/totk

i like know the vague plot of ss/oot/mm/tp/ww/hw and og loz games, but havent gotten into details/lets play or anything yet

i hope this was at least a half decent idea to think about/expand on urs, have a great rest of ur week, and thanks so much for the ask!! <33

Peace out,

🌙

[forlorn-crows]

one time someone asked me for a little something about cirrus and mountain's friendship. i don't know where that ask ran off to, but. tagging @askingforthesun bc i think i mentioned this to you randomly one day.

sometimes cirrus asks mountain to help her shave. gives them a chance to spend some alone time together and catch up. slice of life & banter for a sleepy sunday.

words: 680

“Ah, there it is,” Mountain hums, running his thumb along the newly shaven patch of skin.

“There’s what?”

“Your cute little mole.”

“Oh,” Cirrus snorts, thwacking him with the end of her tail. 

“Whaaat,” Mountain complains. He swishes the razor in the dish of water on the nightstand, laying it on the towel so he can go back to admiring the little blobby heart-like mark nestled in the fold of her upper thigh. “I love it. One of my favorite kissy spots.” The earth ghoul dips down as if to do just that, only to get a hiss and a face full of feathers.

“Uh uh,” she scolds. “No. You’re gonna give me pimples.” As if Mountain doesn’t already know this.

He sighs dramatically, resting his cheek on the opposite thigh. “Can you blame a ghoul for wanting to kiss such a perfect spot?”

“For an untrimmed bush? Yes. Because we both know once you start, you’re gonna get all horn-dog on me and I’ll be left indecent,” she pouts. 

Mountain tuts and rolls his eyes. “Would not,” he protests. He’s terrible at lying. With a pointed glare, Cirrus says as much. “Okay, maybe I would.”

“You have,” she corrects. “And I am not in the mood.” It’s not malicious, the way she says it. More haughty, teasing, and matter-of-fact, re-settling herself against the pillows with a wriggle of her shoulders. 

Mountain chuckles, placing a kiss to her bare thigh instead. “Alright, darling.” He runs the pads of his fingers lightly over the edge of her hair, feeling for rough spots or stray hairs. Pulls the thin skin to check in the creases too, mentally taking note of where to pick back up. 

“Thank you,” Cirrus chirps, crossing her arms playfully. 

Mountain just smiles and picks up the safety blade again. He shaves carefully along the crease of her thigh, brow furrowing as he concentrates. Cirrus has dark hair, so it’s easy to see, but he always vows to be precise when she’s asked him for help.

He cleans the blade again. “How’s mentoring going?” They’ve been talking about everything and nothing, mainly Cirrus’ newly developed finger joint pain (“So stupid, I’m how old and this vessel is just now deciding to fuck with me?” “You have been going hard on that baby grand recently, though, Cir.” “It’s new, it needs breaking in!” “Little harder on the hands, isn’t it?” “Well–”).

“Aurora?” Mountain hums an affirmative. “She’s . . .” Cirrus interrupts herself with a laugh. “She’s a handful, I won’t lie. In the best of ways.”

“She’s an eager one. Maybe more than Sunshine,” he muses.

“Yes,” she sighs. “So eager. She makes me feel like an old woman sometimes.”

“A wise old owl.” Mountain’s smirk earns him another tail smack. “You are going to make me miss a spot,” he accuses. 

Cirrus ignores him. “She has so much energy. She fits in wonderfully, and Sunny is taking well to mentoring, too. But Lucifer, that inner fire of hers . . . somehow it’s more pronounced than Sunny’s, if that were possible.”

“She’ll mellow out,” Mountain assures. “Sunny did, too. You and Lus have a calming influence.” The earth ghoul sets the razor aside and surveys his work. He hums, considering. “How’s the shape for you? I know you wanted a bit less this time, but I didn’t want to take too much off before I trim.”

“Hmm . . .” She peeks over her torso, assessing. Mountain hands her the mirror so she doesn’t have to crane her neck. She palpates her mound, pulling away hair from the shaved perimeter and spreading her thighs to see the rest. Tilting the mirror this way and that. 

“No, that’s great, sunflower, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, darling.” Mountain takes the mirror back and trades it out for the comb and scissors. “Same as usual for length?” 

Cirrus nods. “You know I can always bring you my clippers too, right?” 

“Call me old fashioned,” Mountain shrugs. “Sometimes it’s nice to slow down. More time to catch up.” He offers her a smile, one that she mirrors fondly.

“Can’t argue with that.” 

[scekrex]

hey, hear me out, Adam with a reader with lots of tattoos, like, the WHOLE body, and Adam finds the reader really badass and try to do a tattoo too but he totally regrets it afterwards

Okay so reader's not only tattooed but also a self-taught tattoo artist bc I said so °^° I hope ya like Adam's breakdown over a shitty tattoo <3

He can fix it

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Adam adored every single drop of ink that had been poked underneath your skin, even if he didn’t understand certain design choices, he loved your tattoos, thought they made you look badass.

And then one day you had gotten home from yet another appointment, heaven had two, maybe three tattoo studios and the only one near you was fucking shitty so getting a tattoo always went hand in hand with being gone for at least three days - yet it was always worth the travel because at least they did a good job. There was one little studio close to you, the artists weren’t nice, their work wasn’t good and every damn day you wondered how they managed to pay rent because there was simply no way people were actually getting tattooed there. But on the other hand it really wasn’t your place to judge because you had started just as shitty when you had started to learn the skill of tattooing. You hadn’t tattooed others though, only ever practiced on fake skin or your own body.

So when you got home from your latest appointment and proudly showed Adam your newest tattoo, the first man was quite surprised that it was related to him. You proudly flexed your forearm as you showed him the artwork of the battle ax version of his guitar that would now forever be on your skin. “You’re absolutely fucking insane, babes,” he wispered as his hand grabbed your wrist in order to pull your arm closer to his face to see the artwork up close. It was a super detailed image that left Adam breathless, he loved it so much. “This is fucking on point, and the blood sinner dripping from it? Holy fuck man.” You shot him a teasing grin as you pulled your arm back to grab the first man by his collar and pull him in, “So, when do ya get my weapon tattooed?” It wasn’t meant as an honest question, you knew Adam adored tattoos on your skin but getting inked up himself? He wasn’t so sure about it. The pain he would be able to handle without any problems, that wasn’t his deal at all. It was more about the design. And to be fair? Getting your halberd tattooed sounded like a great fucking idea in his ears. So he offered you an equally teasing smirk as he tilted his chin upwards and confidently replied, “I’m gonna make an appointment right fucking now.” You curiously raised an eyebrow at Adam, he had been so quick to decide for something so permanent? It wasn’t that the first man was against inking up his own skin - far from it actually, he had told you so often that he wanted tattoos too, but whenever you had offered to design him one he had backed out. So this decision came quite surprisingly. "You sure? Y’know that ya don’t have to-” “Oh shut your fucking mouth, I fucking know okay? "BUT I wanna.” His voice didn’t sound as confident anymore and you seriously questioned the decision he had just made. But if he was so sure about it, you would let him have some fun. He had to know what he was doing, that really wasn’t your place to tell him no.

-

Adam had made an appointment at the tattoo studio near your apartment, you had told him that their work lacked skill but he had simply ignored it, had told you that it’ll be fine. He simply was too lazy to travel so fucking far for something as simple as a tattoo, and seriosly how bad could it be?

Well, very fucking bad.

Because when the brunette opened the door to your shared apartment and his eyes met yours, you knew they had fucked up. There was disappointment in his expression, guilt for not listening to you and discomfort for what they had done to his body. They had ruined it, the lines were wobbly, the coloring was so inaccurate and the details of the carvings had been completely ignored, for fucks sake, Adam was sure a toddler would’ve done better.

You got up from the couch immediately, “Show me,” there was no excitement in your voice and the first man knew you were aware of the situation. “Fuck no,” Adam pressed his left forearm thightly against his chest, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm at the firm contact. His wings pushed you back a little as he wrapped them around you in order to feel protected - he was in pure discomfort. Why did he think going to that studio had been a good idea? You had informed him that their work wasn’t good, you had warned him. And he had actively decided to ignore that warning and now he would never be able to wear fucking short sleeved tops again. That’s how much he hated what they did to him. “Ain’t no fucking way I let you see this shit.” You sighed and your eyes softened a little, providing some comfort - you weren’t mad at Adam, why should you? But you guessed the way you had demanded to see the clearly fucked up tattoo made it seem like you were. “Adam, the tone of your voice matched the kindness your eyes offered and you gently reached for his wrist, “Show me so I can make a plan to fix it.”

His eyes shifted from the fresh tattoo that was covered by the sleeve of his robe to you and with a sigh he sunk his wings and extended his arm in your direction so that you could have a look. “They let you leave with that piece of shit on your skin?” you complained and looked at the LED expression his mask offered. “I’m here and that shit is on my arm, so yeah, they fucking did.” You guided him into the bedroom, letting him sit down on the bed. Your hands reached for his mask and carefully pulled it off his head, exposing his face, his eyes were filled with anger, sadness and regret. “Put on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, calm yourself down a little and come to me when you’re ready okay?” You placed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, “I’ll set up my tattoo needle and I’ll fix that mess for ya. Take all the time you need for that.” You were about to pull back and give him some space as he grabbed your wrist tightly and looked at you with wide eyes, “You can fix it?” You playfully rolled your eyes and shrugged, “Fuck yeah I can fix it bae.”

[fentrashcat]

So I've been putting off talking about my tourettes recently bc it seems everytime I have the words to express what's going on, something new happens. So instead of trying to organize things or put them into like a semi story-time post, I'm just going to list things out. These will probably not be in chronological order because so much has been going on the last 2 or so months that I've lost track of all the "when"s.

⚠️everyone's experience with Tourette's or tic disorders will be different, I can only speak to my own⚠️

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS for descriptions of tics/tic attacks, description of self injurious tics, abilism ⚠️

1. Nicknamed my Tourette's gremlin "Archibald" or "Archie". I tend to yell at my tics already when I get frustrated or annoyed, so I named him. It's mostly to make myself laugh. Saying "Archie's being an ass" or "apparently Archie didn't like that" makes me giggle, and more so when my friends play along in cursing Archie. It also lets my mom/friends know I'm not hurting from my tics.

2. Developed a lot of new tics. Some I've had before as one offs but are now common ones. The new tics include saying "knock-knock", "hi" (hi being said in not my normal voice), "Beetlejuice!". I've also developed biting at the air? Like my head goes forward and I bite so that my teeth clack.

3. Developed a frequent, kind of self injurious tic. On the same day or week that "knock-knock" came about, I also started knocking on my head twice w my right hand. It can be really soft or really hard to the point it concerns my mom. We tried having me wear like a beanie but it seemed I knocked harder with the hat on, and I'm really picky about hats bc sensory.

4. Got told by the family member I work for that I could easily find another job if I "weren't so picky". I then had to explain to her that I have seen the change in an interviewers face from "You look like a great canidate" to "finish this up as quickly as possible and never contact them again" when I had to disclose my Tourette's (noticeable repeated tics, otherwise I'd never disclose). I also had to tell her that I was "coincidentally" let go from a job the day I had to disclose, after being told repeatedly that I was doing well before. I also had to tell her that the one job that seemed chill about my tics that wasn't family connected, I had to quit bc it was 30/40min away and I don't drive so was begging people to drive me.

5. Fully convinced Archie is actively trolling now, as the "Beetlejuice" tic came about after mom said her coworker said it and she had to repeat it 3 times fast (she also has tics but is undiagnosed). Then the "Beetlejuice" started and she had to repeat it everytime.

6. I've been working for like 4 weeks now, and have had Tourette's related issues 4 times now. I've left work an hour early twice, 5 hours early once, and had to miss a day due to tics/tic attacks.

7. The missed day actually happened this week. I started getting intense head jerk tics about an hour before my shift finished, but I wanted to try working through it. Every few minutes I'd be forced to quickly/violently look to the right 5-10 times in a row. It started to hurt really bad but I managed to finish out my shift. By the end of my shift my head, neck, and shoulders hurt like crazy, and pain meds didn't seem to help at all. (Wasn't sure if they'd help for repetitive motions but figured was worth a shot). It kept going like that for 3 or 4 hours before I relented and said I won't be able to come in the next day. I couldn't lift my arms above my head or look to either side from the pain of it all. I'm still sore like 2 days later but able to move around now.

8. Biting the air tic came about when I was kind of hungry, but apparently also happens when I'm pissed? Happens randomly too, but thought that was funny.

9. Trying to figure out how to get my family to understand that just bc tics CAN mean something is wrong, they don't ALWAYS mean something is wrong. I know they're just worried and wanting to help me but if I tic 3 or 4 times in a row they keep asking "what's wrong" and won't take "nothing, it's just happening" as an answer. At which point I end up getting frustrated because they keep asking and the frustration leads to more tics.

10. We pulled up at a gas station that was advertising hot dogs and my mom ticced "hot dog" in the same voice she uses when our puppy brings her her hotdog toy. She was trying to suppress it, and afterwards she looks at me and goes "I couldn't NOT say it, like it physically hurt trying to not, is that how you feel all the time?" And I was just like yeaaaah pretty much. Mom's tics are usually reactionary, and she doesn't get a lot of premonitory urges, so it was really unusual for her.

That's all I can think of at the moment, thank you for reading. If I think of anything else I'll probably make another post but I'm not sure if I will. Sorry this one was so dense, I've been putting this off for a while lol.

[fma-03lric]

Imagine Hughes brings Elicia to work one day and leads her to Roy's office to visit. Ed's there too, likely revising some report. And she is just the biggest fan of him so she's always super excited to see him. She wiggles outta Maes' arms and plops down meanwhile her dad is invested in teasing Roy abt getting married or whatever. Ed is so wrapped up with his grumblings that he doesn't notice Elicia's hurried little steps as she sprints to hug his leg. The metal one. She crashes into it and falls to the floor in a heap sobbing. Hughes snaps to look at her, sees his little girl on the ground in pain and Ed confused and worried. So he directs his anger towards him and starts yelling at Edward. And Ed's like "I didn't do anything! I'm sorry! She ran into my leg!!" And in his anger Maes doesn't think abt how Edward's leg is literally metal so he dismisses that as any explanation at all.

Ed would just feel so so guilty whether he was at fault or not. He would take great care with his automail around fragile and cute things. Ultimately though, he'd break and hurt them unintentionally and it'd eat at him. Make him afraid of getting close to things he could potentially ruin. There would be like an internal struggle in him. It'd leave him behaving inconsistently bc he can't bring himself to completely separate himself from those things, so he confuses others too.

just another fun scenario that bounces from corner to corner in my skull space idk.

[toasterdrake]

aaaaa ok i really hope im not bothering you bc i'm requesting two times in a row, but can i have another yelena oneshot with some hurt/comfort? maybe r gets a life-threatening injury and yel mother-hens r back to health? if that's too specific you can do whatever you want for the 'hurt' part of hurt/comfort

my friend, the day has finally arrived. this beast has sat in my drafts for many many months -- years, even, i think? -- and i have finally accepted i'm never going to finish it. i went suuuper off-script so i've condensed it into just this block before things go haywire. other than that, this is entirely unedited as i last left it, notes and gaps and all. i hope the rest of it (of which there is too much) never again sees the light of day.

if i can even say this any more, enjoy. with this, my time in the mcu fandom truly comes to an end.

Angel

Yelena Belova x Avenger!reader

word count: 4K

Engine malfunction, systems failure, hull compromised, oxygen leakage, proximity alert, eject failure -- every alarm blared impossibly loud in the tiny cockpit, barely audible over the rushing vacuum of wind. 

A stream of creative curses spilled from your mouth as your fingers flew across the sparking dashboard, trying desperately to make something, anything work as your jet's descent steepened, plummeting through low-lying clouds.

Coming up with no other option than to try to limp to a nearby island, you yanked the control stick as hard as you could, bracing your legs as you strained with all your might to pull the plane out of its nosedive. 

You fought gravity itself: your arms feeling as if they were about to be ripped from their sockets. You were trying to lift tonnes of metal with one human's strength alone.

You let out a patriotic scream, blood pumping gloriously. Your cry to the heavens was drowned in the violent wind, the strain of the wings in the wrenching of your shoulders.

Alas, the jet wobbled and shook, breathing black smoke.

The cockpit was beginning to feel like a furnace due to the engine fire below. You were burning up in your heavy aviator's gear despite the cracked canopy's icy flood of air. Your breath came in short pants, crackling in your mask, and the broken radio screamed in your ears.

Land -- no, you'd failed, water -- rushed up to meet you. From the cockpit's window, the lake was a giant gaping blue maw opening wider to swallow you whole. And it would; given the chance, the slightest wavering of will.

Not one to simply accept fate, you struggled out of your buckles and into an emergency parachute, fingers shaking as they worked frantically in your small window of time.

The parachute cord caught on a displaced hunk of metal just as you ripped off your helmet. Masses of white fabric filled your vision. 

Senses clouded, the great boom of impact told you you'd hit water. It rebounded like astral ascension through your bones.

With the whiplash, you jerked forward, slamming into the centre console hard enough to elicit an intense ache in your chest. Your head connected with the dashboard. 

You pulled yourself upright, star-crossed for a moment, darkness clawing at the edges of your vision.

A sharp pain blossomed at your hairline; a thousand needles drove into your skull and twisted. You groaned as the dizziness sent you reeling a second later.

Something hot and wet and dark dripped down your forehead. You wiped it from your stinging eyes. You didn't have time for this. Through dancing stars, the jet was sinking rapidly into unfathomable depths; dragging you down with it never to be seen again.

Shaking off the disorientation, you scooped up your helmet from the floor and began attacking the glass canopy. Your movements were hindered by the limp parachute crowding what little space you had, but still the crack grew. 

Water spilled in faster, faster, sloshing around your shoulders. Finally, the entire pane collapsed into shards. You inhaled the deepest breath of air you could muster milliseconds before--

A great puff of depressurising air thrust you bodily out of the cockpit, as water flooded the jet entirely, wholly conjoining it to the lake. 

You tried to yank your rucksack free of where it was wedged, but it was stubborn and you didn't have seconds to spare. You abandoned it in favour of surging upwards.

You kicked your legs wildly, reaching above your head for filtered sunlight in a desperate bid for fresh air. The pressure in your lungs mounted and mounted.

Your heavy clothes and tired limbs weighed you down. You couldn't struggle out of the woolen aviator jacket; couldn't spare the few moments to let it drag you deeper in freefall.

Still, it was as if you had never left the jet. 

The light above didn't seem to be any closer, your progress like revving with the handbrake on. Your desperate kicks and thrusts weakened, bubbles streaming from your nose, dancing to the sky like ash as time trickled out.

It was dark. So dark. Cold. Lonely. You were thrashing. Water was filling your lungs. You were drowning. You were about to be lost to nature's most powerful force, and no one would know.

A muffled splash above echoed through the dark expanse of water. 

An angel from the surface had come to save you. 

Her form was silhouetted by dancing sunlight wings. Golden ringlets of hair splayed around her head in a halo. She swam down to you, powerful limbs propelling her down in an illusion of ease; a true display of power. 

The strength of her arms was reassuring.



Coughing and spluttering, you jolted upright. Water gushed from your mouth, spilling down your already soaked chest as you sat up. You found curious chartreuse eyes. Somehow, instinctively, you knew they belonged to the angel who saved you.

"Where are your wings?"

"What?" Her accent was dark velvet: authentic slavic, you recognised vaguely. It sent shivers down your spine as much as the chill of the water.

"Cause," A wet cough, "Cause you're an angel -- oh shit that's blood." 

"You have internal bleeding, probably," She said, smoothing back darkened blonde hair, peeling it from her shirt by the disturbance. She was just as soaked as you, as was the patch of grass you occupied.

Frothy, bright red spots of blood littered your hand. A sharp pain in your abdomen made itself present. Dizziness washed over you, but you pushed through to pull up your slick shirt and reveal a deep red discolouration on your chest. 

For some inexplicable reason, you poked it, and winced when a wave of pain crashed through the area. You blushed upon noticing her scrutinising gaze, clearing your throat. Your ribs ached in complaint.

You gratefully took the hand she offered, letting her display that strength again as she hauled you from the ground. She led you from the shore up to a cabin, which dominated what appeared to be an island.

"What's your name?" You asked.

A quiet moment of debate. "Yelena. You?"

You owed each other that much. "[Y/N]."

She hummed in recognition.

"Lie down. It'll help your blood flow more naturally," She said, tone not unkind.

You obeyed, then swallowed awkwardly around the dryness in your throat, piping up, "Could I have a drink of water?"

"Not until you've been treated," Yelena said, words accompanied by a privately playful smirk, to which you pouted. 

You drummed your fingers against your leg, looking around at what of the room you could see, as Yelena became otherwise occupied attending to her dog.

A goatskin rug had been draped over the back of a rocking chair in the corner, almost like hotel decoration. A blazer hung from a peg next to the door. A perfectly pruned arrangement of flowers sprouted from a ceramic vase shaped like a stylised duck, something that looked glittery lacing shards together. A misshapen candle's flame flickered cheerily on the windowsill.

Contrast of lived in and new. Yelena trying to make a home and not knowing how.

Yelena reentered, throwing a set of fresh, baggy clothes at you.

"So, you live here?" You said conversationally, looking out a window at the pine forest outside as you changed painstakingly slowly around his injury.

You could just make out a distant shore beyond the mist-obscured treeline, the grey lake lapping at a dark gravel beach.

Yelena stiffened. You watched out of the corner of your eye as she chewed her lip, face turned away from you. "No," She said, wary. "I'm only here to look after the island for my parents."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you, and returned to gazing outside. Maybe her parents are in hospital or something? Whatever the depth of her reason, it sounded personal. And complex. You shouldn't pry.

And you shouldn't take advantage of an innocent woman's hospitality, your conscience scolded. No choice, you rebutted.

Just then, someone knocked at the front door. Yelena shot you a look that carried a strange cocktail of warning, concern, and apprehension, before disappearing to attend to the visitor.

You weren't left alone for long. Yelena re-entered the room, biting her lip before glancing away and standing awkwardly in a corner. She was followed by a man slightly taller than her, whom you assumed was the doctor by his discoloured beige clinical coat and briefcase.

The doctor himself could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty. He introduced himself as Dr. Graham in his warbly, squeaky voice. His face was mottled by acne scars, his chin weak and bare as if it had never borne a single hair. His babyish eyes popped out of their sockets, making him look like an eternally frightened rabbit. His hairline had already climbed up his forehead, leaving only wispy fawn tuft behind his ears.

Puberty must've hit him like a plastic toy car, you mused.

Dr. Graham did his necessary medical things quickly enough, diagnosing you miraculously concussion-free. You provided an easy lie about falling down the stairs when moving boxes, which the doctor accepted with a degree of coldness and Yelena listened to with something like caution in her eyes.

"You need four weeks of bedrest," Dr. Graham sternly gave his departing orders, crossing his arms over his chest in tepid persistence.

"But--"

"No buts."

"But--" Yelena tried.

"No. Buts. Good day to you." He stressed, glaring at each of you -- the effect somewhat disheartened by his buggish eyes -- before striding out the door.

"We'll see if your hairline lasts four weeks," You grumbled darkly. Yelena snickered at that, which drew your attention to her. 

"So."

"So," Yelena prompted when you trailed off, looking at you quizzically.

"So, is it okay for me to stay with you that long? I can't exactly go anywhere else; the jet had all my money and cards in it." The bandages wrapped around your chest flexed uncomfortably with stretching muscle.

Well, Tony's cards.

"Sure, why not. I don't plan on going anywhere for a while," There it was again; that cautious reservedness showing itself to maintain the simmering distance between you. "I will need to pick up some groceries from town though. Will you be alright here with Fanny?" Yelena said, moving to the doorway again.

"We're on one of the Thousand Islands, right? How does an entire town fit? I mean I can understand a doctor, but--"

Yelena rolled her eyes. "The town is on the mainland. I'll be taking my boat, Paučók." She said, a hint of motherly pride slipping through at that. "Also, the doctor used his own boat. We're alone on this island."

"Oh," Heat rose to your cheeks.

She rolled her eyes again and strode away. An unmistakable bulge in her pocket caught your eye. Your mood darkened. Maybe her parents aren't in hospital after all.

With that fun revelation, you decided to do some harmless snooping once Yelena was out of sight. The front door clicked shut, the lock twisting with anxious finality.

Pulling yourself off the chair, you leaned against the wall, riding out an immobilising wave of pain for a few long moments, your eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted. A little internal bleeding wouldn't stop you!

Fanny fretted at your heels, seemingly unperturbed by your being a stranger. You petted her reassuringly, and she scampered off down the hallway, leaving you to trail behind her at a snail's pace.

Y comes back, confesses past nervously, R guilty, reveals snooping, Y angry, trust lost, R works to apologise and reopens wound



A week later, Dr. Graham called requesting you go to the clinic for a check-up. You took the call since Yelena was in the boat shelter doing maintenance on Paučók. Because you had started a streak of regaining trust, you decided you would obey the doctor. Just this once. 

You didn't like pissing people off, contrary to popular belief -- it was messy to fix and sent you completely out of your depth -- even if it was endlessly amusing to annoy the doctor. Besides, Yelena would give you an earful if you hurt yourself again.

Heading out to find the aforementioned Russian and inform her, you took a plated stack of the pancakes you'd made, just in case she hadn't eaten yet. She'd been up and gone by the time you got moving, just dumping a used coffee cup in the sink as you appeared in the kitchen.

Walking through the bracing early morning mist, you got the sensation it wasn't going to shift for the rest of the day. The icy vapour stung your cheeks and whipped you into full vigilance: a hard slap from Mother Nature. You pulled your aviator's jacket tighter over your shoulders.

Stepping into the boat shelter, you went unnoticed by Yelena. This was strange, considering that in the time you'd known each other she'd always seemed to have a sixth sense for detecting your presence before you'd even walked through the door.

The cause of her distraction was soon revealed, as the whirring of machinery permeated the workshop.

Oh shit. Okay. She's ripped. Damn. Okay. Cool. Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath. One, two, three, release. Okay. Now use your words.

"I-I brought you, um, cakespan -- no, uhm -- pancakes!"

...What?!

You cringed.

(Gae muscle panic)

The doctor's clinic was, for whatever reason, not located on the mainland. Instead, it inhabited one of the larger islands alongside a few other residences -- enough to form a hamlet -- that sat just a few hundred metres into the lake, near the main feeding river's mouth. The clinic itself was a converted gothic mansion, all arching stone masonry and high, gilded ceilings that made rooms echo eerily.

The place wasn't busy; you were seen after just a few minutes, the only other patient being a pregnant woman accompanied by her wife. Yelena trailed after you into the examination room, stuck on the boundary of limiting your association and keeping you in her sights at all times.

You exchanged an apprehensive look upon noticing an unfamiliar boat moored to the island's jetty.

Yelena pulled in quietly, killing the engine and letting Paučók drift into place on the current. You both stepped out onto the platform, gaze locked on the stagnant house through sentinel trees. Its dark windows gazed back steadily with quiet amusement. 

Yelena bent to secure Paučók's ropes. She reached into her pocket and handed you a loaded semi-automatic handgun, as well as drawing a revolver for herself.

You handled the handgun with familiarity. "God, how many guns do you have on you?"

"Enough to be prepared."

Together, you crept up the beaten dirt track to the house, guns poised to react. The building waited for you patiently.

A bird swooped low over your heads, flapping hurriedly to ascend. You and Yelena startled at the abrupt action. The desperation in its wake left a strange, almost oppressive tension heavy in the crowding mist. 

In the next moment, it was dispelled like a river bursting as Fanny came sprinting after the bird through the trees, barking freely. She skidded to a halt at Yelena's feet, who quickly bent to attend to her dog. She slipped Fanny a treat and ruffled her thick coat, speaking to her as if she could answer.

"What happened, Fan? What are you doing out of the house, huh?" Yelena cooed. Fanny panted happily in response.

"Fanny!" A new voice called jovially through the opaque mist. 

A second later, a hazy humanoid solidified into an approaching silhouette striding toward them. With every muted step, their features sharpened to reveal fiery red hair draped over slim shoulders, a vest secure over a dark bodysuit, green eyes eclipsed by the dreary surroundings.

"Fanny," Natasha said again, scolding this time with a playful lilt, coming to a stop in front of the three.

"Natasha," Yelena answered, wide-eyed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Yeah, Nat," You piped up. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha looked at him, surprise evident in her expression. "[Y/N]? What are you doing here?"

"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this. Let's go inside." Yelena said, leading the way up to the house. Fanny ran ahead eagerly, twirling in impatient circles as everyone traipsed behind her.

Once inside, the frigid mist shut out behind a heavy wooden door, you immediately moved to the fire. You rolled up the sleeves of his jacket to expose your forearms, but didn't shrug it off, still feeling the chill in your bones. You stirred up the glowing embers; feeding them another log and coaxing a true, strong flame out of it.

Meanwhile, Yelena hung up her overshirt on a peg and stepped into the adjoining kitchen, shuffling through cupboards. The kettle's whistle crescendoed cheerily a few moments later. 

Natasha kicked off her boots at the door, falling into an armchair with a grateful sigh. She produced a dog toy from a pocket when Fanny jumped onto her lap, teasing the Shepherd with it but neither wanting to move too far.

Accepting the mug of coffee from Yelena when she padded back into the living room, you took the other armchair, leaving her to claim the plush loveseat. Fanny jumped off Natasha's lap as she received her beverage, instead lying down on a rug in front of the resplendently roaring fire.

You inhaled the steam, the soft fragrance providing gentle caresses of nostalgia. You blew on the hot liquid until it was cool enough to sip safely, smiling at the taste. 

Yelena and Natasha sipped quietly from their own mugs -- labelled 'blood of my enemies' and 'keep it up and you will be a strange smell in the attic' respectively -- while staring introspectively into the fire. Well, Natasha was. Yelena was admiring Fanny. As she rightfully should.

"So, Natasha," The blonde finally said, facing the other woman with a somewhat annoyed expression, "What has brought you here?" 

Drizzling rain began to fall outside. Fresh symphonies of pine wafted in through a cracked open window, condensation forming in the corners of its rustic frame.

Natasha tore her gaze from the fire to meet her sister's over the rim of her mug. "Mason called me to say you'd requested extra time. He wanted me to make sure you hadn't gotten yourself into trouble."

Yelena nodded absently. Her hazel eyes were glazed over; distant in thought. You looked between the sisters, utterly lost. 

"Mason? Is he your landlord? Are you leaving soon?"

The log crackled and popped, jolting hard enough to cause everyone in the room to startle. Yelena stared into her mug guiltily.

"No. He's… this a safehouse. I'm waiting for some media controversy to blow over." She confessed to the hot chocolate.

"Controversy surrounding the death of an important army benefactor?" You asked.

She looked up at you, clearly surprised and a little wary, but nodded. You sank a little deeper into the armchair, trying to make yourself smaller. Yelena looked to Natasha for an explanation. The avenger smirked.

"[Y/N] here had to leave the states pretty urgently after being framed for that benefactor's murder," She supplied, clearly enjoying every moment of what was to come.

Yelena gaped for a few moments, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, before she finally managed coherency. "Shit, I'm so sorry! I promise I wasn't the one to point any blame at you."

You waved her off, red-faced. "It's fine. We know who it was. Unfortunately, no official will even consider it, and demand I be put behind bars."

"Tony's working on the legal stuff," Natasha reassured you, before returning her attention to her drink. 

"Tony? As in Tony Stark of Stark Industries? Iron Man? You know him?" Yelena gushed, eyes shining.

"WellI'mkindofanavenger," You mumbled sheepishly. Natasha snorted in amusement.

"[Y/N] is one of the cool kids I run around with," She said in answer to Yelena's confused frown.

The Russian was struck speechless. Fanny sighed and shifted, briefly drawing her attention from blank staring, which gave you a breather to compose yourself.

"Yes. I'm an Avenger," you said; steady and strong. You were proud of your occupation. You'd saved lives -- the entire planet! -- countless times, and you'd do it again in a heartbeat. Yelena had every right to understand that.

"So," Natasha said, finishing her drink in one gulp and standing, "I'll be calling Mason to tell him everything's fine, and the other safehouse in Yukon is free since you're both staying here. That right?"



Natasha ended up staying with you. 

In a quiet conversation by the patio firepit after Nat had gone to bed, you and Yelena both agreed that the avenger needed this more than she cared to admit. 

The next morning, Yelena invited her sister to stay with you for the whole run of your supposed bedrest, to which she reluctantly agreed. 

(Honestly, your insistence swayed her more than her own volition. She couldn't resist three sets of puppy eyes.)

It was hard for Natasha to let go of work.

The boys and Wanda were a mess without her, and she received numerous disgruntled or chaotic calls throughout the day. She talked herself into flying back to the states multiple times, but you wouldn't let her. 

Yelena tried telling the team to back off -- to just let her relax -- but they failed to learn how to function without Natasha. 

Eventually, Pepper intervened and the calls stopped. 

Before this, you had put Nat's phone on silent and hidden it while she was showering. Yelena returned with clothing flown over from the compound (she'd been lending hers to her sister until now since Nat didn't bring any) to find you taped to a wall and Natasha in a frenzy.

That day, her paranoia swiftly devolved into a panic attack, which turned into a full breakdown. 

It was heartbreaking to watch your friend fall apart. Yelena helped her through it, and after a therapeutic cry Nat was more willing to ignore the others. The team knew the emergency code. She was finally ready to accept a break.

Released from the tape by a sheepish Natasha, you gave her a loving hug to melt into, then texted Pepper.

Nat was much happier after that. Her soul sang free like the spring songbirds for the first time. Even during the three years in Ohio, the shadow of the Red Room had bound her wings, and the recent ordeal of taking down Dreykov, of Antonia -- coming face-to-face with her greatest nightmare -- had been emotionally intense. To say the least.

Finally getting a true break allowed the reality of those horrors to be released. A huge weight took flight from her shoulders. 

Of course, healing takes time, and is not a linear journey. You and Yelena were there for Natasha every day.

Yelena's mood improved with her sister's, and soon the two were acting as if they'd never been trained assassins separated for twenty years. They were just a normal family. Happy, content.

Mealtimes were filled with cheerful banter and laughter, the result of weaving around bodies crammed into the kitchen and steam clouding cracked open windows.

Mornings were spent lazing in bed, followed by sunbathing on the porch with a coffee. Nights were either filled with alcohol and stumbling to bed; or books, cozy blankets and a roaring fireplace. The rest of their day was occupied with chores, exploring the island, and swimming in the lake. Natasha mostly played with Fanny around the island. She was almost more infatuated with the dog than Yelena, if that was even possible.

At some point, you ended up gravitating into Yelena's bed.

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 2: planning

like every single artist on planet earth since i dawn of time, i suffer from some kind of unknown malady that causes me problems for no reason and cannot be confirmed by an outside source. usually, its whatever; its fleeting muscle/tendon/join pain with some inflammation that comes and goes for no reason after a few hours. today, however, the muscle in the webbing between my index finger and thumb on my drawing hand is swollen and painful making it annoying. it's really only like a 4/10 when it hits and the actually annoying part is just the unpredictability. with any luck it will be gone in a few hours.

that doesnt have anything to do with planning, i just wanted to bitch about it to a captive audience. also my guts are mad at me.

---

in all honesty, ive been sitting here sipping on my cup of coffee, staring at my screen and struggling to think of an interesting and concise way to portray what i know i want. this is a great page for me personally bc it signals forward momentum, no matter how minuscule, in the plot. maxine is completely exhausted and beat to shit so she's reluctantly passing out. she vulnerability in this moment makes it hard to convincingly ohhh hold on ok i think i have it. i'll spend this page putting her to bed lol.

christ this comic feels decompressed to shit sometimes and breakneck at others. since i felt like i needed to aim toward one or the other after flailing in the middle for years, i picked "trying to be more narratively slow" bc it gives me more time to think and feel. but that's really rough for something that updates serially. in this case, it just doenst feel realistic for maxine to willingly fall asleep considering she operates with the instincts of a wild animal. she'd chew her arm off if it got stuck in a vending machine. she is not going to be happy about sleeping in a strange place surrounded by people she just got done aiming a gun at.

BUT what if she issues one last warning to this guy and then as he drones on in response, she falls asleep while tuning him out. she would want to tune him out but the falling asleep would be an unintentional side-effect of her stubbornness. no way is she actually trusting this guy or any guys. its against her will. the last panel can be her in a nice dream, so she has a reason to stay asleep instead of fighting it. this has the bonus of allowing me to draw something weird and fun by trying to draw what a dream feels like. ADDITIONAL BONUS: i dont have to come up with a lot of dialog. it can turn into squiggles once maxine stops listening.

uhhh ok time for sketching. here's where we're at right now after 2 hours of work:

uh oh!

[doomed-era]

kn….. knocks on your door…… 1. scar stories (gaffen but also anyone else if you want!) and 2. headcanons/canons also for gaffen. views him like watching a rolypoly on the sidewalk

Oh Boy. gaffen has a lot of scars uh more than the average person. while surprisingly pre-calamity gaffen doesn't have that many and the ones he does have are fairly small and ended up getting mostly healed over by the shrine of resurrection. the scars robbie mentions were ones he essentially expected to be there based on how purah said the machine would work, and robbie was mostly referring to one scar on his right side. it was from the guardian that shot him lmao. gaffen probably Eventually learned where it came from but for a few days after he woke up it looked sort of weird? had a thin, sticky blue film over it originally. similar to the blue stuff he ended up coughing up but uh yea

ANYWAY. the scar on gaffens face is from kishu! it was not deliberate; she swiped at him and he got out of the way but not enough to keep his face from getting cut. he has three other scars on his chest from the encounter but they are smaller. as for what encounter other than it was with kishu I am. not saying it is spoilers </#

widget has scars all over the left side of her body. malice uhh basically started eating at her after a certain point. pretty much all of her extremities (hands, feet, ears) got at least nipped at except her right hand. it makes wearing socks and tight pants very uncomfortable and she sometimes puts on magic circlets or brooches (they lower or raise your body temperature in gboh and can numb things if they're powerful enough) to help with any pain. this is sort of why she wears a skirt? it's also bc she likes skirts. she'll also just. pull up her sleeve and start itching the scar on her arm. usually when she thinks no one is looking.

paya has two scars on her chest and one on her back!

ok for headcanons :) I'll do a few I can think of off the top of my head.

-gaffen is a horsegirl bc the twins at dueling peaks say link looks like a horse person and I believe them :]

-gaffen will call himself a traveller and in general doesn't say he's the hero unless he feels challenged or it's directly brought up. (canon link calls himself "just a traveler" to rhodes (guy watching hateno windmills))

-this is more about rhoam's relationship to gaffen, but early in the game after you get off the first sheikah tower rhoam will ask you basically if you want to rescue zelda. you have two options one of which is a blatant "yes" and the other one is (iirc) just "..." SO. uh. if you answer "..." rhoam will comment about seeing "determination in link's eyes." you cant properly say no </3 my friend has also pointed out that link's dialogue options seem decidedly more open and curious on the great plateau! so you can see where I get the whole "rhoam is sort of manipulating link to his own ends" angle I hope. because i'm not going to interpret rhoam as actually thinking link has determination in his eyes thats stupid + reminds me of cutscene-onlyers who think links some kinda stoic badass who only cares about zelda which is a take i despise + rhoam has a legitimate motive for doing what I think he's doing

[hvstias]

Do you happen to have any Deadlock&Sova sibling shenanigan HCs

Asking for my dogs distantly related cousins twice removed great uncles friend

well kudos to ur dogs distantly related cousins twice removed great uncle's friend bc they have a good taste!! here u go:

u know those duos that just click? yeah. that's them.

especially after sova investigated the place she lost her arm (from her cinematic but i cant remember the name blame it on my low b12 ok)

moving on so after some interrogation they just. clicked. call it trauma bonding or blond ppl telepathy they just did

they don't remember exactly who started it but now everytime they're standing together SOMEONE'S (bonus points if a dualist) always gotta make that sibling joke

they're both nature lovers but she thinks he's kinda insane for hiking for 4 miles at 7 am

okay including tremorbolt here because why not so do u remember that hc about deadlock and breach having movie nights? they also invited sova, deadlock nearly refused to watch the movie with them because she didn't want to third wheel those homos

BUT somehow breach ended up third wheeling them because they were going feral over the details of a fucking 90s horror movie while he tried not to die from too much laughing

her arm sometimes ache like an open wound, not that it's not healed wrong or something but phantom pain is a real pain in the ass and sova tries to help her w his grandmas home remedies and meds

ppl often confuse them as real siblings in public and its so hilarious to sova while deadlock just rolls her eyes but u can see a lil smile if u look closely thats her pocked sized himbo

sova is a good storyteller but he talks about gore so casually she's like ??? sometimes but still listens because this mf has interesting stories

like breach and viper, they also have their own bets but instead of winning they always end up losing bc they let everyone know what they bet on with their bickering lol

she thinks he uses too many hair products and he's just offended like?? do u think its easy to take care of this fabulous hair??

deadlock only cooks practical meals because she doesn't really have time to think about food (her words) and sova's horrified by her eating habits. like girl how are u even alive

sova can handle hot temperatures unless it's TOO hot but deadlock. oh boy. her nordic ass can't handle hot places unless there's an AC like she'd act like she's okay but you know how someone looks like when they're on the verge of dying from heat

they're both tea ppl but sova prefers black tea and deadlock finds those herbal teas relaxing after a long day at work

they smoked pot after a rough mission w breach once but that was the first and last time they listened him about his relaxing tactics because the headache in the morning? not worth it gals and guys and my nb children do not smoke pot if u wanna relax go take a shower or smth listen to me (definitely not speaking from experience)

ps: this is kinda short bc i've been busy these days BUT might make a part two soo i hope u enjoyed!

[totallybakedcake]

hello :) (if you recived another message sorry I don't know if I sent it bc my phone doesn't work) as I asked before like could you do a Aoi x Haruichi fanfict? also I'd like to read something that focuses also on Haruichi's family issue because I'm really struggling to think about something and I'd like to know other people's thoughts :)

Woo hoo my first character x character fic!! Really I do like to ship many characters together but don't have any motivation to write. I had fun trying to make a backstory so thanks:D

The joy of silence

There were no cute fanarts on them on google so settling with this one ig

Haruichi was just in his apartment, gazing at the mellow sunset while lost in thought. He had for the past four hours been opening his phone every five minutes, which even made the vice captain and instructors concerned, so he had to stop.

He didn't tell anyone; he wasn't bold enough to tell them that it was his father's birthday, and he had tried to call him multiple times, text him plenty of times, and even send him some gifts, but in response, he got dead silence.

He felt so annoyed and nervous at the beginning of the day that he worked way harder than usual, and now everything would hurt if he even moved an inch.

"I am hungry." He thought to make dinner, but during cooking, most probably his body would give out, so he diverted his mind and would think about that later.

This is the first time he felt so useless that he might cry from it, but what could even help him cheer up? Just then

The doorbell rang.

Usually at this hour, nobody came to visit him, though Haruichi did think of a certain someone when he needed to talk.

"Aoi?" Ah, yes, it was Aoi. He didn't outright say it, but he was glad that he had come to visit him.

"Talk." Kaguragi simply said that and settled on the couch. He damn well knew that Haruichi was very upset and wanted to confront him in private.

"Caught me, huh? Well,  what can I expect from you?" Haruichi didn't even hide the fact and just sat down beside him, offering him some ramen before digging into his.

He took deep breaths to calm down as he spoke. "I had a little brother; he was younger by 4 years. We played for hours and hours every day. Each day our parents would come home with gifts. He always wanted some sort of building set that helped him build weapon toys. He was going to be the one to inherit the Izumo family business. While I was 18 and he was 14, a kaiju attacked our home. He died; mom got an illness and died soon later. I was the one left that dad would leave the business to. My destiny was to become a defense force officer or maybe a captain someday, so I refused, and we argued day and night after that. Dad quit trying to convince me but also stopped talking to me as we both cut ties. Today is his birthday. I did countless things to reach out, but he just wouldn't reply."

The room felt silent as none of them dared to say anything else. Haruichi was and is still hiding his pain deep down, but the tears might start to fall and not stop.

Aoi pulled him in an awkward hug. He had never hugged anyone, but it was a great way to comfort a sad person. "At least you have us; I am sure in the future your father will forgive you; give him some time."

To say he was shocked is an understatement. Haruichi wrapped his arms around Aoi. He closed his eyes, muttering thanks over and over as he got comfortable in the warm embrace that was like a balm to his sore muscles.

It was a quiet moment where no words needed to be exchanged; just the relaxing touch was enough. They were enjoying each other's company.

Falling asleep with Kaguragi felt like heaven, but there was no way in hell that Haruichi was ever going to admit that.

"Oh Kaguragi, I love you," he thought to himself before joining in on the slumber.

[yanderepuck]

Hi! Can I get an angst/comfort fic of Arthur with a female s/o who is depressed and suicidal? Like he walks in on his s/o c*tting while having a mental breakdown? Or he just notices the cuts/scars? Or he walks in on his s/o bl33ding out?? Idk you can get creative with it I’ve just been having an extremely rough couple months. If this makes you uncomfortable then you can just ignore this request, but thanks anyways! I hope you have a great day/night!! <3

SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. I was so focused on Charles that I couldn't work on anything else.

BUT I LOVE WRITING THIS KINDS OF STUFF BC ITD ALSO MINI THERAPY FOR ME

THAT BEING SAID!!!!! READER!!! YOU READ THE ASK!! YOU ARE AWAY OF THE TRIGGERS IN THIS FIC!!!

I highly appreciate when you guys interact and reblog my fics. But I also completely understand why not everyone can read this kind of material.

He notices everything. Everything but the important parts. But to be honest. You aren't quite sure if you want him to notice.

You have mini arguments with yourself about wanting him to know wanting anyone to know. You just want someone to know how much pain you are in. But then there's the side that says that no one can know. No one can find out.

Even if he were to bring it up you would probably just deny it.

You keep your sleeves down. You make sure you are the only one in the thermae. You're just glad it isn't summer. You can get away with saying it's a bit chilly in the mansion.

Every morning you slap a smile on your face, and the moment you get to your room the whole act drops.

You just recently relapsed. Under your sleeves your forearms are covered in bandages. Arthur keeps getting close and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how the two of you should go back to his room.

You tell him that it's that time of the month and even though he's a vampire, you say that you aren't comfortable with it, and would rather sleep alone.

Without much of a care you go to your room. You gave him a peck on the cheek and that was it. Needless to say it wasn't a very convincing excuse.

You loved him, you really did. But right now you wanted to be alone. No. That's a lie. You don't want to be alone, but you feel like you should be alone, like you deserve to be alone.

You take your shirt off and unravel the bandages around your arm. They still look fresh.

You grab the razor blade you hide in your nightstand drawer along with a towel that is so very bloody. You sit on your bed and fiddle with the blade while you look down at your arm.

Where to do it? You don't want to cross over cuts. You aren't trying to kill yourself just yet so you don't want to get too close to the vein.

There's not much room left. But then you look beyond your arm. Your thighs.

You get your skirt off and start poking at your thigh with the edge of the blade wondering how hard you should press. Would any area be more pleasurable than another?

One way to find out.

The first cut is small and fairly shallow. Just a test.

The second cut is the same length but a little deeper. Now there's some blood.

The third cut got it just right.

The fourth. The fifth. The tenth. The eighteenth.

You realize you might have gone overboard. You didn't mean for this many, but it's a fresh spot. It needs to be covered.

Blood is dripping down your leg.

You are just about to wipe yourself with the towel when there's a knock at the door. Panic sets in.

Did you lock it? The scene of you walking in quickly plays through your head and you don't think you did.

"Give me a mo-"

You don't get a chance to finish and the door is being pushed open. You're just in your bra and underwear. You can't even cover yourself. You're stuck.

"I made you some tea and brought some-"

Arthur cut you off, and the sight in front of him got him speechless. Imagine. Arthur speechless.

The blade is in one hand, the bloody rag in the other, and tears in your eyes. This isn't how he should have found out. You aren't ready.

Arthur drops the tray he was holding and the tea and sweets make a mess on the floor. He rushes over to you and takes the blade from your hand.

You're frozen. You don't even realize he's talking to you, or that he's even touching you. You only snap out when he has his hands on your cheeks and he kisses you.

Tears rolling down his face. "Love....w..why didn't you tell me."

He's panicking with you, but for very different reasons.

"I... I..."

You don't have an answer. You don't have one. What are you supposed to tell him? That it feels good? That it makes you feel alive? That this is better than being a numb empty shell? This is your boyfriend in front of you.

Arthur gets some of his senses back and takes your shirt from the floor and presses it against your thigh to soak up and to stop the blood. The last few got deep. You started to get used to the new flesh.

He kisses you again. "Please say something," he keeps one hand on your cheek so you would look at him.

Your head was in his direction, but your eyes weren't. They were down. Not looking at anything in particular.

"I... I'm sorry," your voice cracks and the tears start. It's like a damn broke.

"Shhh. I'm here now," he lifts the shirt to see how the bleeding is, but then puts the shirt right back over the cuts.

"Everything is going to be okay now," he brushes the hair out of your face and behind your ear. He is now noticing the cuts on your forearm. He doesn't point them out but you can feel his eyes on them.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," the tears come out harder. Using the back of your hand you try wiping them away.

"Here," h takes your hands and puts them on the shirt. "Keep those there while I go get some things, okay?"

Arthur's hands are stained red. He doesn't want to leave you but he wants to clean your wounds. He leaves and gathers the items he needs as quickly as he can. Paying no attention to anyone he might pass.

He wasn't gone long, and this time he closed the door when he came in.

You still have your hands on the shirt, sobbing. The scene didn't change. He slowly removes your hands and the shirt. With a clean damp towel he gently wipes your thigh to get rid of the extra blood.

"It's going to be okay," he talks softly and he isn't sure if it's for him or for you. "I'll make it all better."

He cleans up your thigh and pats it dry before putting an ointment on it. He isn't sure how well it will stay but he wraps a bandage around it as well. Kissing it once it's wrapped.

Then he looks at your arm and repeats the process. He never once asks why. That's not the right question right now.

By the end of it, he is covered in your blood but it doesn't phase him at all. He goes through your clothes and finds that one big comfy shirt that you like.

"Let's get this on," he puts it over your head and then realizes you will probably be comfier without the bra. He reaches around and unhooks it, helping you slip your arms out of the straps and though the arm holes of the shirt.

He can tell you're exhausted. Mentally and physically. He was going to do everything for you that he possibly could. He tosses your bra to the side and pulls the shirt all the way down.

"Let's lay down," he helps you down. You just about stopped crying, and now you feel even emptier than before. There's almost no life in your eyes.

"I love you," he tells you softly. His heart is still racing. His face is still wet. But he was going to do everything for you.

You reach out and grab his hand, holding it tightly, not wanting to be alone.

"Please... Please don't leave."

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he kisses the back of your hand. "Let me clean up and I will lay with you, alright love?"

You don't want to let his hand go, but you trust him. You trust him more than anyone else that he wouldn't leave you like this.

He gives a weak smile and starts to clean up the floor, gathering your clothes, and cleaning up the tray he dropped. He just sets everything to the side.

He takes his own shirt off and adds it to the bloody pile before turning the lights off and crawling in bed with you.

He stays close, but enough to give you space. You weren't in the right headspace to have the talk right now, and he knew that. He would leave it for the morning.

"I love you more than anything," he kisses your cheek and holds your hand. "I would do anything for you."

"I... I'm..."

"Shh... We don't need to talk about it now. I just need you to rest. Doctors orders."

You simply nod your head. With all the crying, and panicking, you felt yourself getting exhausted.. you closed your eyes and tried to think of absolutely anything else to fall asleep.

[nicksbestie]

hi there, i recently discovered your page and i really love your work.

i was hoping maybe i could request something ?

lately i have been struggling a lot with my mental health and it’s been really difficult for my day to day life.

i was thinking anashton comfort ? something just like he knows how hard it can be and he says some encouraging words. bc that’s all i need rn.

as someone who also writes, sometimes i just need to read instead of writing it all.

if this is too vague i understand ! you totally don’t have to write this.

much love !

Antidepressant

word count : 663

warnings : mentions of heavy depression, mental health, medication

it's sad but I hope it's good!

<3

Ashton absolutely radiated comfort and positivity, and it was one of your favorite things about him.

Each and every part of him felt like a warm hug, especially when you were actually wrapped in his arms. You were always eternally grateful that you had such a person, especially that he understood how you were feeling sometimes. 

You didn’t like that he had been where you were, as the feelings of depression and anxiety, and other struggles with your mental health were painful, and you couldn’t imagine putting any of that onto him. But it was so appreciated by you that he could understand exactly what you were feeling, and knew exactly how to comfort you. He couldn’t fix it, but he was incredibly good at making it feel a little bit better. He was like an antidepressant in human form.

You were so grateful for him on days like these. And unfortunately, it was one of those days. Sometimes, like now, it was one of those weeks, those months, those slumps that feel like they’re going to last forever and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. But Ashton was a light, like a soft ray of sunshine, the kind that seeps through your swaying curtains to gently wake you up in the morning. 

You had woken up, having an awful day the day before, and you could just feel that things weren’t changing today. You felt awful, and all you did was roll over in bed, curling up to Ashton’s chest, and attempting to fall back asleep. He began to stir, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your head, an arm stretching out around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. It was like he could feel the sadness seeping out of you, the overwhelming exhaustion, because he hugged you so tight, his chin resting on your head before he spoke. 

“Not any better today?”

The exhaustion was so great that you couldn’t even formulate a verbal response. You just shook your head, not really moving much more than you absolutely have to. He let out a soft hum of affirmation, slowly pulling the blankets off and slipping out of bed. You frowned at his disappearance, but still didn’t feel like getting up, so you laid in silence, a slight smile crossing your face when he promised to be right back. And he kept that promise, coming back with a slightly clenched fist and a water bottle, sitting down next to you and gently coaxing you to sit up. 

“Here, my love. I know you don’t take your medication as often as you should, take it today. It might do you some good.” 

You didn’t want to, at all. But because he was gently encouraging you, you did. The small white pill went down easily, but you still felt that Ashton was a bigger antidepressant than the medicine you had just swallowed. He laid back down next to you, moving to the other side of the bed before wrapping his arms around you. 

“It’s okay to feel like this, you know. I know it’s hard, and I know it absolutely sucks. But it’s okay. You don’t have to feel like you’re a burden, or anything like that. I understand, and I’m always going to be here for you. I’m so proud of you, and that’s never going to change. You’re allowed to have bad days, life is so difficult and it’s a lot to handle. We can just have a rest day today. I love you.” 

You felt too choked up to muster a reply, too overwhelmed with feelings of love and the warm bubbly feeling of being cared about and understood, just squeezing his hand three times to signify that you loved him as well. And if you spent the rest of the day in bed, curled up with him, eating and drinking when he softly helped, then nobody except the two of you had to know.