#someone give that man a vaccine

[mothy-graves]

currently have a cold and am coughing what feels like every five seconds

Arthur Lester core am I right?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[boreal-sea]

Look.

I have made you a chart. A very simple chart.

People say "You have to draw the line somewhere, and Biden has crossed it-" and my response is "Trump has crossed way more lines than Biden".

These categories are based off of actual policy enacted by both of these men while they were in office.

If the ONLY LINE YOU CARE ABOUT is line 12, you have an incredible amount of privilege, AND YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT PALESTINIANS. You obviously have nothing to fear from a Trump presidency, and you do not give a fuck if a ceasefire actually occurs. You are obviously fine if your queer, disabled, and marginalized loved ones are hurt. You clearly don't care about the status of American democracy, which Trump has openly stated he plans to destroy on day 1 he is in office.

EDIT:

Ok fine, I spent 3 hours compiling sources for all of these, you can find that below the cut.

I'll give at least one link per subject area. There are of course many more sources to be read on these subject areas and no post could possibly give someone a full education on these subjects.

Biden and trans rights: https://www.hrc.org/resources/president-bidens-pro-lgbtq-timeline

Trump and trans rights: https://www.aclu.org/news/lgbtq-rights/trump-on-lgbtq-rights-rolling-back-protections-and-criminalizing-gender-nonconformity

The two sources above show how Biden has done a lot of work to promote trans rights, and how Trump did a lot of work to hurt trans rights.

Biden on abortion access: https://www.cnn.com/2022/07/08/politics/what-is-in-biden-abortion-executive-order/index.html

Trump on abortion access: https://apnews.com/article/abortion-trump-republican-presidential-election-2024-585faf025a1416d13d2fbc23da8d8637

Biden openly supports access to abortion and has taken steps to protect those rights at a federal level even after Roe v Wade was overturned. Trump, on the other hand, was the man who appointed the judges who helped overturn Roe v Wade and he openly brags about how proud he is of that decision. He also states that he believes individual states should have the final say in whether or not abortion is legal, and that he trusts them to "do the right thing", meaning he supports stronger abortion bans.

Biden on environmental reform: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2021/10/07/fact-sheet-president-biden-restores-protections-for-three-national-monuments-and-renews-american-leadership-to-steward-lands-waters-and-cultural-resources/

Trump on environmental reform: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/climate/trump-environment-rollbacks-list.html

Biden has made major steps forward for environmental reform. He has restored protections that Trump rolled back. He has enacted many executive orders and more to promote environmental protections, including rejoining the Paris Accords, which Trump withdrew the USA from. Trump is also well known for spreading conspiracy theories and lies about global climate change, calling it a "Chinese hoax".

Biden on healthcare and prescription reform: https://www.hhs.gov/about/news/2023/06/09/biden-administration-announces-savings-43-prescription-drugs-part-cost-saving-measures-president-bidens-inflation-reduction-act.html

Trump on healthcare reform: https://www.cnn.com/2024/01/07/politics/obamacare-health-insurance-ending-trump/index.html

I'm rolling healthcare and prescriptions and vaccines and public health all into one category here since they are related. Biden has lowered drug costs, expanded access to medicaid, and ACA enrollment has risen during his presidency. He has also made it so medical debt no longer applies to a person's credit score. He signed many executive orders during his first few weeks in office in order to get a handle on Trump's grievous mishandling of the COVID pandemic. Trump also wants to end the ACA. Trump is well known for refusing to wear a mask during the pandemic, encouraging the use of hydroxylchloroquine to "treat" COVID, and being openly anti-vaxx.

Biden on student loan forgiveness: https://www.ed.gov/news/press-releases/biden-harris-administration-announces-additional-77-billion-approved-student-debt-relief-160000-borrowers

Trump on student loan forgiveness: https://www.forbes.com/sites/adamminsky/2024/06/20/trump-knocks-bidens-vile-student-loan-forgiveness-plans-suggests-reversal/

Trump wants to reverse the student loan forgiveness plans Biden has enacted. Biden has already forgiven billions of dollars in loans and continues to work towards forgiving more.

Infrastructure funding:

I'm putting these links next together because they are all about infrastructure.

In general, Trump's "achievements" for infrastructure were to destroy environmental protections to speed up projects. Many of his plans were ineffective due to the fact that he did not clearly outline where the money was going to come from, and he was unwilling to raise taxes to pay for the projects. He was unable (and unwilling) to pass a bipartisan infrastructure bill during his 4 years in office. He did sign a few disaster relief bills. He did not enthusiastically promote renewable energy infrastructure. He created "Infrastructure Weeks" that the federal government then failed to fund. Trump did not do nothing for infrastructure, but his no-tax stance and his dislike for renewable energy means the contributions he made to American infrastructure were not as much as he claimed they were, nor as much as they could have been. Basically, he made a lot of promises, and delivered on very few of them. He is not "against" infrastructure, but he's certainly against funding it.

Biden was able to pass that bipartisan bill after taking office. The Bipartisan Infrastructure Plan that Trump tried to prevent from passing during Biden's term contains concrete funding sources and step by step plans to rebuild America's infrastructure. If you want to read the plan, you can find it here: https://www.whitehouse.gov/build/guidebook/. Biden has done far more for American infrastructure than Trump did, most notably by actually getting the bipartisan bill through congress.

Biden on Racial Equity: https://www.npr.org/sections/president-biden-takes-office/2021/01/26/960725707/biden-aims-to-advance-racial-equity-with-executive-actions

Trump on Racial Equity: https://www.axios.com/2024/04/01/trump-reverse-racism-civil-rights https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-us-canada-37230916

Trump's racist policies are loud and clear for everyone to hear. We all heard him call Mexicans "Drug dealers, criminals, rapists". We all watched as he enacted travel bans on people from majority-Muslim nations. Biden, on the other hand, has done quite a lot during his term to attempt to reconcile racism in this country, including reversing Trump's "Muslim ban" the first day he was in office.

Biden on DEI: https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2021/06/25/executive-order-on-diversity-equity-inclusion-and-accessibility-in-the-federal-workforce/

Trump on DEI: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/trump-tried-to-crush-the-dei-revolution-heres-how-he-might-finish-the-job/ar-BB1jg3gz

Biden supports DEI and has signed executive orders and passed laws that support DEI on the federal level. Trump absolutely hates DEI and wants to eradicate it.

Biden on criminal justice reform: https://time.com/6155084/biden-criminal-justice-reform/

Trump on criminal justice reform: https://www.vox.com/2020-presidential-election/21418911/donald-trump-crime-criminal-justice-policy-record https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/05/trumps-extreme-plans-crime/678502/

From pardons for non-violent marijuana convictions to reducing the federal government's reliance on private prisons, Biden has done a lot in four years to reform our criminal justice system on the federal level. Meanwhile, Trump has described himself as "tough on crime". He advocates for more policing, including "stop and frisk" activities. Ironically it's actually quite difficult to find sources about what Trump thinks about crime, because almost all of the search results are about his own crimes.

Biden on military support for Israel: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/national-security/biden-obama-divide-closely-support-israel-rcna127107

Trump on military support for Israel: https://www.vox.com/politics/353037/trump-gaza-israel-protests-biden-election-2024

Biden supports Israel financially and militarily and promotes holding Israel close. So did Trump. Trump was also very pro-Israel during his time in office and even moved the embassy to Jerusalem and declared Jerusalem the capitol of Israel, a move that inflamed attitudes in the region.

Biden on a ceasefire: https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2024/06/05/gaza-israel-hamas-cease-fire-plan-biden/73967659007/

Trump on a ceasefire: https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/trump-israel-gaza-finish-problem-rcna141905

Trump has tried to be quiet on the issue but recently said he wants Israel to "finish the problem". He of course claims he could have prevented the whole problem. Trump also openly stated after Oct 7th that he would bar immigrants who support Hamas from the country and send in officers to American protests to arrest anyone supporting Hamas.

Biden meanwhile has been quietly urging Netanyahu to accept a ceasefire deal for months, including the most recent announcement earlier in June, though it seems as though that deal has finally fallen through as well.

[scary-grace]

Best Practice - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Taking the night shift at a 24-7 emergency vet hospital isn't for the faint of heart, and you've seen a lot of crazy things. But on one particular shift, it's Tenko Shimura and his service dog who make the biggest impression on you. a silly little fic I wrote while I was at the emergency vet with my dog. No quirks AU, volunteer!reader, pet owner!Shigaraki, Mon-chan lives (and so do any other animals mentioned in this fic). 3.9k words.

The waiting room sounds like hell in a handbasket, but give that this is the only 24/7 emergency vet in the prefecture, that’s not a surprise. You’ve been volunteering here since you got out of school, and there’s never been an overnight shift where things haven’t been completely unhinged. Cats yowling. Dogs barking. Rodents squeaking and birds trilling back and one enormous monitor lizard that’s going berserk inside its crate, scaring every other animal in the same bank of seats. But as bad as the pets are, they’re nowhere near as bad as the owners.

In the five years you’ve been volunteering here, you’ve seen probably thousands of people come in with their sick and injured pets, and none of them come in at their best. Nobody’s at their best when they’re scared or sad, and having to wait and watch as other pets are triaged and brought back from exams. You still have your vet tech certification left over from before you went to school, so you know how to take vitals and do basic assessments, but your real job on every shift is to manage the owners. Some nights it’s easier than others.

Tonight isn’t one of those nights. In addition to half a dozen pets already in the exam rooms, there’s a couple and their two kids with their elderly cat, all four of whom look like they’re hanging by a thread. In the back corner, there are a couple of kids who rescued a tanuki that got hit by a car. They’re also hanging by a thread, and probably in need of a few preemptive vaccinations to boot. The guy with the monitor lizard is making everybody nervous. People keep filtering in and out, getting stat-triaged or sent to the waiting room, and with every person who gets called back, the guy your age with the corgi who’s been here for four hours loses his temper a little bit more.

You feel like you should check in with him, but one thing and another keeps you busy, and nobody points you his way until one of the dads from the cat family catches your attention. “Hey, not to bother you, I know you’re busy –”

“How long have you been waiting?” you ask at once. “Has Snow White’s condition changed at all?”

“No, she’s about the same, but –” The blond man nods towards the bank of chairs across from his family. “Can you get a handle on that guy? He’s scaring my kids, and my husband’s this close to breaking his nose.”

You take a second look at Corner Guy – or Corgi Guy, if you go by the dog. Corner Guy is your age, skinny, with messy blue hair under an oversized hoodie. His clothes are old, but the blanket he’s wrapped the corgi in is new, and clean. With the dog bundled up that way, you can’t see what’s wrong, but it’s resting quietly in its owner’s arms. Every so often, it twists around to lick his face.

The dog is cute, but Corner Guy’s middle-distance death stare isn’t, and the blond man’s husband and kids are right in his eyeline. The least you can do is give him someone else to glare at. You make your way over and park yourself in the seat right across from him. “Hi. Have you been triaged yet?”

Corner Guy’s mouth, scarred at one corner, twists into a sneer. “What do you think?”

“How long has it been since somebody checked in with you?” you ask. You get a death stare all your own in response. “I’m sorry about the wait. If you tell me how long it’s been I might be able to hurry things along.”

“Checked in with me? I checked in. They took my money and told me to wait.” Corner Guy’s voice takes on a note of bitterness. “These people are idiots. I heard them, over there – their dog got hit by a car this morning and they’re just now coming in? Their dog gets to see the vet first because they were stupid and I wasn’t?”

You get this kind of thing a lot. You also get the sense that Corner Guy won’t appreciate being told how triage works. You deliberately turn your attention to the corgi in its blanket. “Who’s this?”

“Her name’s Mon.”

“Can I say hi?” you ask. Corner Guy nods, and you reach out to scratch Mon’s ears. She gives your hand a good sniff with a cold, wet nose before she lets you pet her, and as soon as you touch her, you can tell by the softness of her fur that she’s well cared-for. “What a sweetheart. How old is she?”

“Three.”

“Still a baby, huh?” You can’t help slipping into puppy voice. You got over being embarrassed about that a long time ago. “What brings you two in tonight?”

“At the stupid pet store. Some asshole ran her foot over with his cart, and she’s been crying –” Corner Guy’s eat-shit expression shifts into misery. “The cashier said to come here, so I did. And I’ve just been sitting here, and I know she’s in pain – and everybody and their cat gets to see the vet before Mon does.”

Now you get why the blond guy’s husband wants to break Corner Guy’s nose. “Can I see her paw? Which one is it?”

“Front one. On the right.” Corner Guy unwraps the blanket, careful not to jostle Mon, but she whimpers anyway. “Sorry. Sorry –”

“Okay, sweetie. Can I see your paw?” You forgot how short corgi legs are. There’s a risk that the cart got more than just her paw. “Oof, okay. That looks like it really hurts. How long ago did that happen?”

“Four hours.”

So he really did come straight here. “What happens if she tries to put weight on it?”

“She hasn’t,” Corner Guy says. “I picked her up when it happened, and, uh – I didn’t put her down again.”

“And you wrapped her up. That’s good,” you say. “If she hasn’t moved it around a lot, it’s a lot less likely to get displaced. How long ago did it stop bleeding?”

Corner Guy shrugs. The blanket has a decent-sized stain, but the stain looks like it’s drying. “Okay,” you say. “I’m going to go talk to the doctors and see if I can get one to come out and take a look at her. They might tell you it’s better to be treated by your regular vet, if you can get an appointment –”

“I made one for tomorrow,” Corner Guy says. “I wanted to see if she could get, like – dog Advil or something. I know she’s hurt even if she’s not crying.”

“Oh.” That’s a lot quicker than a cast and x-rays, and the vets on duty will be really happy to hear that Corner Guy has a vet appointment lined up already. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

You confirm it with the front desk, then come back with the good news. “I can take her back right now and the vet will do a quick exam. Then they’ll do a splint and some painkillers, and that should get you through to tomorrow. Sound okay?”

Corner Guy hesitates. “You’re going to take her away?”

“It’s kind of busy back in the exam rooms, so we have the owners wait out here.”

“No,” Corner Guy says. “She’s my service dog. I have to come too.”

“Service dog?” You’ve never seen a service corgi before, but when Corner Guy folds back the blanket, you see that Mon’s wearing a vest, with a seal on it that you recognize. That organization trains service dogs specifically for PTSD. “Okay. Right. So maybe it’s best if you carry her.”

Corner Guy follows you through the packed waiting room and past the authorized personnel only doors. It occurs to you that you’ve forgotten something. “I got Mon’s name. What’s yours?”

“Shimura,” Corner Guy says. “Shimura Tenko.”

Shimura Tenko settles down a lot once you get him and Mon into an exam room. People usually calm down when their pet finally gets some medical attention, but Shimura looks like he’s doing more than just calming down – his face is pale and his hands are shaking, and Mon starts squirming in his arms, letting out little whines as she tries to reposition. She’s still at work, even though she’s hurt. You hesitate a second, then step in. “I can help turn her. Where’s she trying to go?”

He doesn’t answer, but you’ve seen service dogs from this organization before, and you know what they usually do to help their handlers. You help Mon rotate from sprawled in Shimura’s lap to a more upright position, and she lays her head on his chest, over his heart. It takes a few moments, but you see Tenko begin to relax.

“Are you two going to be okay in here for a second?” You don’t get a nod, but you also don’t get a no, and you duck out onto the treatment floor in search of one of the vets on call.

The first vet you encounter is Dr. Fukukado, which is what you were hoping for. She’s got the best bedside manner. You wait for her to sign the discharge paperwork on the parakeets she was treating, the make your case. “I have a patient in Exam 10. Her paw got run over by a shopping cart and it looks pretty bad.”

“Poor thing.” Dr. Fukukado’s mouth turns down at the corners. “That would be a stat if we weren’t so busy –”

“She’s a service dog,” you interrupt as politely as possible. “From New Horizons.”

“PTSD. How’s her handler doing?”

“Not great,” you say. You feel confident in that one. “They were waiting for a while. I thought he was just being a jerk, but once I brought them back here he sort of –”

Collapsed is probably too strong, but you’re too tired to come up with the clinical terminology. Sometimes after a night at the emergency vet, you forget that you even have a day job, let alone that it’s as a social worker. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” Dr. Fukukado says. “I’ll add my name to his case and get in there as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you stick with them. Try to keep them both calm. Triage should be thinning out soon.”

Hopefully. It’s two am. You stick around long enough for Dr. Fukukado to add her name to the chart, then head back to Exam 10. Mon and Shimura haven’t moved. “Hi,” you say. “I’ve got some good news. The doctor’s put her name on Mon’s chart, so she’s next in line. Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?”

Shimura Tenko doesn’t answer. You notice that his lips are really dry. “I can get water if you want it, or something else to drink. We have a coffee machine, so there’s tea, coffee, mochas, cappuccinos, hot chocolate –”

“That.”

Okay. He’s talking. “Gotcha. One hot chocolate, coming right up.”

You pick your way through the waiting room, checking on a few new patients in the mean time. You stop by the family with the cat to make sure they’re all right, cast a wary eye at the guy with the lizard, quickly triage a pair of kittens someone brought it, and grab Tenko’s hot chocolate. You’ve hit first-name terms with him in your head. That’s – not normal.

When you get back to the exam room, Tenko looks like he’s doing a little better. More color in his face, at least. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“No, I just got a bit held up.” You hand over the hot chocolate and watch him take a sip. His hands aren’t shaking as badly as before. “How are you two doing?”

“Her foot’s still messed up.” Tenko takes another sip. “It’s my fault.”

“It can feel like that sometimes, but I bet it wasn’t,” you say. “Somebody ran her foot over. That wasn’t you.”

“I shouldn’t have put her down.” Tenko’s voice flattens. “I know I carry her too much. She wants to walk. I thought she might want to walk around in there. If I hadn’t put her down she wouldn’t have gotten hurt, so it’s my fault.”

“Letting your dog walk around is a reasonable thing to do,” you counter. “Not looking where you’re going and hitting somebody else’s dog with your cart isn’t. That person’s the problem, not you.”

“I’ve only had her for two months,” Tenko says. His voice pulls tight. “They’re going to take her away.”

“We see service dogs in here a lot,” you say. “Nobody comes to take them away. Everybody knows accidents happen. This was definitely an accident.”

Tenko doesn’t answer. He takes a few sips of hot chocolate, and Mon picks her head up to snuffle the cup. “Hey. No. That’s bad for you.” Mon gives the bottom of the cup an exploratory lick. “We have treats at home. If I let you have this she’ll think I’m a moron.”

“I’d have a hard time saying no to her,” you say. You sit down one chair away from him. “If you hadn’t told me you got her two months ago, I never would have guessed. You guys seem really bonded already.”

“Yeah.” Tenko adjusts his grip on her. He’s quieter when he speaks again. “I feel like shit right now. She knows to work when I get upset, but I don’t want her to get upset and worry about me when she’s hurt. So then I get upset because I’m making her work, and – yeah.”

“She’ll feel better if you let her help you,” you say. You’re confident in that one. “My dog does, anyway.”

“You have a service dog? Where is it?”

“She’s a therapy dog,” you say. Tenko gives you a suspicious look. “Not an ESA. She and I did a bunch of extra training and I take her on visits to places – hospitals, schools, libraries, that kind of thing. When we’re not on visits, she’s a pet. An incredibly spoiled pet.”

“Do you have a picture?”

People with sick pets don’t usually ask about your pet. Then again, you don’t usually tell people with sick pets that you’ve got one, too. “Yeah. Um, here. That’s her.”

Tenko glances at your phone, and to your shock, he cracks a smile. “People must go crazy for her on visits. There was a golden in team training when I went through. Everybody wanted him but me.”

You should keep Tenko talking anyway – it’s best practice – but you also really want to know. “How does it work, getting matched with a dog? Do they let you pick?”

Tenko shakes his head. “You work with a bunch of different dogs in the first week. They’re all trained like Mon is. The trainers want to see which one you click with. Mon was the third one I worked with.”

“And you got along right away?”

“She kept getting in trouble.” There’s a note of pride in Tenko’s voice, and it only takes you a moment to understand why. “Even when she was working with other people, she kept pulling to get back to me.”

“She picked you out,” you say, and Tenko nods. He’s smiling slightly again. “I can tell you guys have something really special. And that you take really good care of her.”

Mon finally quits trying to get into the hot chocolate and settles back with her head against Tenko’s chest. Tenko glances at you. “What do you do here, anyway? I’ve been watching you run around all night and I still can’t figure it out.”

“I’m a patient support specialist,” you explain. “I can do triage, but mainly I try to help people get through pet emergencies in one piece. It gets kind of hard in here.”

“Whatever they pay you, it’s not enough.”

“I don’t get paid,” you say. “I volunteer.”

Tenko looks surprised. “You do this for free?”

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the door. You jump, but it startles Tenko enough that he spills some hot chocolate on his hand, which Mon promptly slurps up. You open the door, ready to give hell to whoever spooked them both. “Hey, can you keep it down?”

“Sorry. Fukukado said you were in here, and –” Tamaki leans against the doorframe, breathing hard. “You know the monitor lizard? It’s, uh – not.”

“What is it, then?”

“We don’t really know,” Tamaki says. “But it got out.”

Oh. “Anybody who’s not with a patient has to go help,” Tamaki says. “Like now.”

You are with a patient. You glance at Tenko, who looks ever so slightly entertained. “Me and Mon aren’t going anywhere,” he says. “Go get your lizard.”

You get to your feet. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon.”

You aren’t back soon. You’re back an hour later, bruised and tired, your hand wrapped in an ice pack and an ace bandage. You make the mistake of knocking on the door to Exam 10 with it, and you get a shock when Tenko opens the door rather than just hollering for you to come in. He’s not carrying Mon, and you ask where he is at the same moment as he asks you a question of his own. “What happened to you?”

“Is Mon okay?”

“They brought her a bed and some pain stuff.” Tenko opens the door to show you, and you spot Mon on the exam table in a dog bed, swaddled in a blanket and so doped up on painkillers that she can barely keep her eyes open. “They’re gonna do x-rays later. Did you get the lizard?”

“It got me,” you say. Tenko’s eyes widen as he studies your bandaged hand. “And it wasn’t a lizard.”

“What was it, then – a dragon?”

“A Komodo dragon,” you say. “But close.”

“Aren’t those things supposed to be giant?” Tenko says. “How did that guy fit it in that box?”

“This one was a juvenile. Is a juvenile. We didn’t hurt it or anything.” You don’t think any of you were capable of hurting it. It was running circles around you. “It’s still really big. And fast.’

“And it took you guys an hour to catch it,” Tenko muses. “I was wondering what all the yelling was about.”

You and the others were really trying to keep the yelling to a minimum. You wince. “We had to find it first, and once we did, we had to catch it – but it was really aggressive, so it started biting, and then it got away again. Rinse and repeat about ten times.”

Tenko snickers. “I wish I could have seen it. More of it than I did, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I cracked the door open. Some guy was chasing it down the hall,” Tenko says. “It was pretty funny when it started chasing him back the other way.”

Dr. Sorahiko is the oldest vet in the ER, and he’s gotten kind of mean in his old age. You don’t feel bad for laughing. “You’re probably going to see the rest of it on TikTok or something. Or on the news. They showed up when Animal Control did.”

“Does that kind of thing happen a lot around here?”

“No,” you say. “Usually when we have a wild night, it’s a different kind of wild.”

“So no bites from a giant lizard,” Tenko says. You shake your head. “You and Mon match now. Maybe we can get two x-rays for the price of one.”

You smile at the thought, then remember something the front desk told you to pass along. “They’re discounting services for everybody tonight, because of the – disruption. Even if Mon gets x-rays and a splint and everything, you’ll probably only get charged the exam fee.”

“Good.” Tenko looks relieved. “Mon gets whatever she needs, when she needs it, but I was gonna be eating instant ramen for a month so I could make rent.”

“A lot of people who bring their pets in here say stuff like that.” You prop your bitten hand against your shoulder to elevate it. The bite didn’t break the skin, but it still hurts a lot. “That’s part of why I like being here. People are awful in outpatient.”

“They’re awful here, too. I sucked.”

“You weren’t even close to the worst person I’ve talked to,” you say. You remember a guy whose dog needed a leg amputation telling you he’d break your neck if she died on the operating table. He got kicked out, but the vets still operated on his dog, and as far as you know, she made a full recovery. “But people here — they aren’t being assholes just because they can. They’re really worried about their animals, because they care about them so much, and I’ve never seen somebody handle that well without help. If I ever have to bring my dog in here, I’ll be a wreck just like everyone else.”

“Worse than everybody else,” Tenko says. You glance at him, puzzled. “You’re not going to have a you around to help out.”

“Yeah,” you say. The thought is weirdly dispiriting. Not only will you be in here with no patient outreach specialist, you’re going to be in here all alone. Your family lives in a different prefecture, most of your friends have their own lives to deal with, and it’s not like you have a partner who could come with you. You haven’t gone on a date in a long time. “It’s going to suck.”

“If it ever happens, me and Mon will hang out with you,” Tenko says, and you nearly fall out of your chair. “She helps me. She won’t mind helping you, too.”

Before you can even think about addressing that, there’s a quick knock on the door, and Dr. Fukukado steps in. “Hey, sorry about the wait,” she says earnestly. “Mini-Godzilla was zipping around out here and he was tough to catch. We’ve got it under control, obviously, but — hey, you need to go home. Everybody who got hurt has to clock out.”

“I’m a volunteer. I don’t have to do anything,” you say. “I can stick around as long as I need to.”

You’ve put the ball back in Tenko’s court, which you feel is the patient-centered thing to do, especially when you’re technically still on shift. But patient-centered or not, you don’t want to leave just yet. You’ve gotten a little protective over these two, and by the time you go home and hug your own dog, you want to know that Tenko and his dog are going to be okay.

“Stick around,” Tenko says after a moment, and your heart lifts in a way it really shouldn’t. “Somebody needs to replace Mon when she goes for her x-rays.”

He wants you to be his service dog? “Sure, but I’m not going to lick your face.”

Tenko laughs at that – actually laughs – and the lightness in your chest grows a little harder to ignore. You like making people feel better, and you like it more than you should that he wants you around a little while longer. It’s not often that you have a night like this one at work. The Komodo dragon bite is going to be the better story, the kind you’ll tell your friends about, or your parents the next time you call home. But hanging out with Tenko Shimura and Mon for the rest of your shift is what you’re going to remember.

[postoctobrist]

Where should I be wearing masks? Frankly, putting them on feels insane and pointless now, and I’ve gotten pretty fucking close to believing that it IS, so I’ve tried to mitigate that by doing a bunch of weird rules lawyering around when and where I put it on

Oh man okay I’m going to get yelled at for this. So there’s this balance between minimising risk to yourself and others, and being able to live a live you enjoy and which doesn’t make you feel insane. The safest way to live is completely indoors away from everyone, but very few people like doing that unless they have to. We couldn’t stay locked down forever because it was an unsustainable change. Masks are very effective but people do not like wearing them or even seeing other people wearing them, really. Shit, I mean we can barely get people to wash their hands and that’s one of the most effective and least annoying public health interventions there is. So you can wear an N95 everywhere but I don’t think you’re going to succeed at normalising it, and people are going to stare at you etc.

Also, the risk side of the equation has changed (some people are very reluctant to acknowledge this!). Not for everyone, certainly, but covid is just endemic now, vaccinations have been very very effective, and we’re kind of back to playing the same dumb luck game we agree to play with every other transmissible illness. Is that great? Not really, but there’s only so much you can make people, including yourself, do. It also means that the consequences of transmission are, while still potentially very bad, materially not the same as the ‘freezer truck stacked full of dead bodies’ days of covid.

I think the most important situation to wear a mask in is if you know you’re ill or have just recently been ill. That does miss the bit where you’re most contagious, because you’re asymptomatic, but like I say, imperfect world. Anyway, if you have to go out and you’re coughing and sneezing all the time it’s worthwhile.

Also if you know you’re going to be in a situation where you know you’re going to be in close contact with more vulnerable people - hospital, care home - or it’s really crowded or has more recirculated air - subway, plane, etc.

And of course you should always wear one to a protest, to minimise covid transmission. Covid also hates it when you wear unremarkable clothing and cover any distinctive tattoos.

The main thing I want to get across is that it’s not the end of the world if you don’t wear a mask somewhere, whether you get sick or someone else gets sick or nobody does. One of the worst social phenomena to come out of the pandemic was this idea that blame is an effective public health tool. I simply don’t believe in morality at that scale and I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault that there happen to be weird microscopic copy machines floating around waiting to unthinkingly copy themselves all over the insides of someone’s lungs. It’s a good thing to wear a mask when you can, but it doesn’t make you a good person, or a bad one if you don’t.

You do have to keep washing your hands, though, I’m not giving up on that one.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 002

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence, drinking

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 5.4k

Walking down the long corridors of the Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered to your clothing and he felt his face heat up. It was quite revealing. Your top did not cover your arms and the sides of it well, it exposed even more skin. Your cleavage was visible from any angle. You wore what he assumed was some kind of bracelet, though there was a black square on it. Then on your fingers you were silver and gold rings. If you had access to this kind of jewelry despite being common born, then perhaps you were not. You also seemed to be unusually educated for a woman despite your manner of speaking. Along with that your neck sported two necklaces, one gold, another silver and your ears were decorated with what he assumed were pearl earrings. No one of common born status should be able to afford the jewelry you had. 

You turned your head to look at the young man who looked at you. You watched him turn away swifting avoid your eyes. You murmured an “okay” before jogging to the front of his mother.

As you went forward, your scent hit his nose and he found himself leaning forward every so slightly trying to inhale more. It was sweet, but not like the perfumes that were used. This smelled…he couldn’t describe but Jacaerys desperately wanted to smell it more. As he leaned forward he nearly tripped. He heard laughter beside him. Luke.

They both looked at each other before looking ahead at your backside. It was very pronounced with the trousers you wore. They were a gray color, tight around your thighs and bottom showing your figure, then loose towards the bottom. Both boys stared before looking back at each other. Luke grinned and pushed Jacaerys. He grinned back and pushed Luke. 

Standing next to the Princess she eyed you from the side of her eye. 

“Ehm, Princess? Where are we going?” You asked, walking next to her.

“To my father, see if you can heal him.” As she spoke you held your breath. It was clear they hadn’t yet discovered oral hygiene. 

“If I can’t?” You were afraid of the answer to come. You just wanted to go home and let your family know you were okay. The bottom line was, you needed to get home. The rest of your life was ahead of you and you would rather not spend it here. Especially if they didn’t have modern medicine. Sure you had romanticized the pretty dresses of medieval times but that didn’t mean you wanted to live here. Proper hygiene, modern medicine, the internet. You’d never survive without any of it. 

“You die.” Daemon spoke. Your eyes widened and you stopped. 

“What!? Now hold on!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Who are you to make the decision? I have plenty of other things to offer!” 

“He is my husband. Prince Daemon.” The Princess answered. 

You sighed in defeat. “Listen, there is so much more to me than just medicine. Besides, I am not a pre-med student. My knowledge is limited. I’m much better in biology and math, and…and english. I can give explanations half the time, but I don’t know if I can cure him. You guys don’t even have antibiotics, or even vaccines!” As they listen to you speak words that were unknown to them Daemon grabbed your face with his hand to shut you up.

“You can either do what you are told, or your head comes off.” He spoke and he watched your eyes widen in fear. Daemon watched you look around as if pleading for someone to save you. There was no one who would help you. Finally you gave a silent nod telling him that you would do your best. 

“Jace, Luke, go to your chambers.” Rhaenrya spoke as they reached her father’s room. A small protest was made but eventually the boys left, leaving you alone with Daemon and Rhaenrya. 

Stepping into the room you gagged. It smelled like rot in there and immediately you stepped out holding your arm to your nose. “Oh goodness!” Breathing in your own scent you looked to your right to see the woman in green walking towards you. You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and she did the same with a questioning look. She stepped inside and finally took in one final breath you stepped inside. It was a grim sight. Helpers in white dabbed the sickly King with water. For a moment you wonder if they did have clean water. 

Stepping closer and looking at the disgusting sight, you find yourself wishing that you had worn something more covering. You’d rather jump into the cold water again than touch whatever it is the King had. There were like lesions all over. You felt your hair stand on end and you gave a shiver. There was a reason you never went into the medical field. Besides of course the amount of medicines you had to memorize, things like this, you would never be able to do. 

It reminded you of a certain movie you watched. What was he called? The leopard king? No, it caused similar injuries. “Leprosy!” You spoke in disgust and you backed away. “Damn damn!” You shook your hands as if trying to get it away from you. You didn’t know how to cure leprosy! Even if you did, the material they have isn't good enough. If anything, that man was on his deathbed. You guess it would be in a couple weeks till he succumbed, maybe earlier. People like this only tend to hang on when they have something they want to accomplish. 

You sighed. Turning to the woman in the green dress, Daemon and the Princess you shook your head. 

“Uh…can I talk to immediate family members?” You meant the Princess. They all nodded and all three walked out. “Uh only relatives.” You spoke again. 

“He is my brother.” “I am his wife.” Both came out simultaneously from Daemon and the woman in green, or in other words the Queen. You made a face. She seemed far too young for the old man, and if Daemon was his brother, wouldn’t that mean he’s the Princess's uncle? 

“Ehm, I thought she was your wife?” You asked, looking towards Daemon. 

“She is.” It was a simple response but you could not wrap your head around it.

“And you two are married?” Your brow lifted in confusion. Daemon nodded and you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That cannot be good for genetics.” 

“Genetics?” The Queen spoke beside you. 

“Yes, what you pass to your children. Genotypes and phenotypes. Genotypes are the genetic make-up one has, and phenotypes are the physical features one possesses. Incest doesn’t make for the best….anyways a lesson for another day.” You waved it off before you ushered them outside. 

Alicent looked at you and the gears started to turn in her head. If this ‘genetics’ was accurate…

“Do you really mean to kill me if I can’t cure him?” Alicent heard you ask quietly and she narrowed her eyes towards Daemon as he gave a knowing look.

“Well then I suggest you start preparing two caskets.” Your tone was grim. You looked towards Rhaenyra. “You are the eldest?” You asked her and she nodded. “Well, start mourning your losses, you will be Queen soon. There is nothing I can do for him, perhaps disinfect his wounds with alcohol but that's the best I can offer. Along with that…” You kept your eyes on Daemon watching his every move. “I suggest you either boil anything he has touched or burn it. Leprosy is contagious. Put a mask on him, it assures that germs don't spread. If you have any cuts on you, or your skin is broken, don’t touch him.” You spoke in low-tones. Of course you didn’t really plan to die, but you had to find a way to get out of here and fast. 

“Then you have come to the end of your use.” Daemon's hand curled around the hilt of his sword. You turned your gaze to the hallways, but Daemon was blocking the path. Looking down towards as he began to pull out his sword. Before you could register what you were doing your body acted on instinct and pushed his sword back into its sheath. You pushed the entirety of your body weight to combat his strength. You refused to die here in a medieval hell. His other hand came to wrap around your neck. You took a hold of the hand you were pushing down and bent his thumb backwards. He yelled and backhanded you. You groaned and held your face. Licking your lip you tasted blood. As you looked up, your eyes widened in fear as you saw a sword lifted above you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.

“Hold your sword!” You heard a yell and you opened your eyes to see a hand shielding you. Then you heard a clatter of the sword he was holding and groaning, shaking his hand. “I will not have you strike her down.” The Queen spoke. “You are dismissed.” She spoke as she turned away from them to face you. 

A long pause took place as both you and Daemon glared at each other. You heard a slight murmur before he turned to walk away Rhaenyra holding his injured hand. You kept your glare on him until he disappeared from view. However, it was replaced by a hand coming to reach for your face. You flinched away. You’d rather not be touched and contract leprosy, that means you can’t even touch your lip, even as you feel a drop of blood rolling down your chin. You licked it to stop it from falling onto your shirt.

“You can’t touch me, we’re unsanitary. I have to shower…or bathe I suppose.” You spoke in a low-tone and the Queen nodded ignoring the strange wording. 

“I will call for you once you are finished. I have some things I want to discuss with you.” Alicent would need your work on genetics. If what you said was true, Alicent could not allow a bastard to be named heir to the throne, or the possibility of her children being in danger. If calling upon your knowledge is what it took, she would do so. 

The Queen dismissed you and asked for servants to prepare you a bath. You walked away with the servants and a personal guard she assigned you. As your servant led you to whatever quarters you were staying at, you admired the architecture of the castle. It was breathtaking. As you were looking around you caught sight of the man with the eye-patch and his brother with a bottle in his hand. You looked at them with a blank face before looking away, though you did not miss their lingering eyes, more specifically, their lingering eyes on your bloody lip. 

…

“They will use her to question Jace and Luke’s parentage.” Rhaenrya spoke as she paced while Daemon rubbed his forearm, the pain had traveled from just his thumb to the entire forearm. He had spent the better part of the walk back to the room cursing your name. “She is not from here Daemon. If she is right about my fathers death? They will take her words if she is able to discover-” She didn’t let herself finish. 

“Anyone could predict that my brother will perish soon. In any case if she does say such things, then she will meet the same fate as Vaemond. The cunt only managed to injure me because I did not think she would fight.” Daemon reasoned watching his wife look down towards his hand with a worried look. 

“Even so, if what she says is true…then we should stay in King’s Landing until then.” Rhaenrya sighed as she bent down to hold her husband’s hand to begin bandaging it.

…

You scrubbed feverishly at your arms and skin hoping it would be enough to get rid of the germs. It would really suck if you died from leprosy. It was such an ugly way to go, and this bruise on your lip was already ugly enough for you. Damn Daemon and damn every other woman beater in this castle. However, you did feel a bit better in this water and now that you have gotten your things back. You couldn't believe your luck that the suitcase that brought you down just so happened to be the one with all the sanitary items in them. When you saw your soaps and shampoos you nearly fell on your knees thanking whatever deity was out there.

However, you never did get any of your clothes back and this suitcase only had limited options, it only really had one or two outfits to wear along with some undergarments. But! Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Rinsing your hair and body you stepped out and put on a robe. Unfortunately, you did not bring a towel. You dug through your suitcase pulling out lacy underwear and a lace bralette. “Y’know when I said I wanted crazy things to happen, I didn’t mean this crazy.” You murmured as you put them on. 

As you finished clasping the final hook you heard a knock then the door opening. “Woah!” You yelled as you covered your top half. The man who held the bottle from before entered with a smile. 

“Is this what women wear where you’re from?” He looked you up and down. 

“Get out!” You urged as you covered yourself with a robe. 

“Here.” He tossed you your purse. “Mother sent me to give it to you.” He gave you one last look before smiling and walking out.

You scoffed and dropped the robe. Only then did you really grasp what you had in your hand. Your purse. You unzipped it and looked through it. You felt a familiar rectangular shape and you smiled and pulled it out. 

“Thank you! To whatever god there is or whoever you are! Thank you!” You shook your phone happily. “And you!” You spoke to your phone as you powered it on. “Thank you for being water-proof!” As you powered it on, it was at seventy-five percent. It was good enough. You opened maps, though only the downloaded parts cap up. Cursing you saw you had no signal. You sighed and pulled your hair back in desperation. What good was a phone if you couldn’t call anyone?

You threw yourself on your bed whining. “Someone played me ultraviolence.” Just then you shot up. “Wait!” You grabbed your phone and went through the songs you downloaded before you crashed. Finding the song you giggled as you pressed play and threw yourself onto your bed as the song played. 

“This is so aesthetic.” You sighed. You felt like you could be an album cover as this song played. Here you lay on a fur bed in your lingerie in an old castle with a bruised lip. As the song came to an end you stood up and turned off your phone. It would be best to save the battery. As you hummed the tune you looked towards the dress you were supposed to wear. Your attire you suppose was a bit inappropriate for the times. However, as you lifted the dress you questioned how exactly you were going to put this on. 

So for the next two hours you spent trying to put on the dress. 

…

As Alicent sat in silence beside her father she leaned over and whispered in a servant's ear. “Summon her.” It was a quick command and Alicent watched as the servant girl left. 

“If she's right about Viserys, then it can be used to prop Aegon as king.” Otto muttered near Alicent. “Only if she can prove without a doubt that Rhaenrya’s children are bastards.” Alicent responded as she looked towards the dark hair boys who now spoke to their betrotheds. 

Alicent sat still waiting for your arrival. Though Viserys only wanted family, she figured he wouldn’t mind the small addition of you. Finally the doors opened and there you stood with a determined look and suddenly Alicent was transported back to when she first made her stance. The pressure and eyes she felt when she first wore her green dress. Now you walked with the same green dress with arguably the most important eyes on you. 

You glowed under the light, almost unnaturally so. Your features seemed enhanced, and your skin seemed impossibly smooth. An almost perfect blush coated your face and your lips shone as if they were covered in honey. Your eyelashes were long and darker than what she remembered. The mark on your lip appeared nearly healed. It was impossible. You had only been struck hours ago by Daemon Targaryen, and even if he did not put his full force into it. Alicent hated to admit it, he was still Daemon Targaryen. 

“I thought this was family only?” Daemon asked with a smirk. Alicent watched you to see how you’d react. She only saw you give a small smile while looking down then back up towards him before taking your seat next to Alicent. Alicent inhaled your scent and you smelled sweet, it also made her want to lean over and inhale you. Never had she met anyone who had smelled so good. 

“My Queen,” Alicent heard you whisper. “Thank you for the dress, I would’ve worn something of my own, but my attire isn’t exactly proper for this kind of setting.”

Alicent gave you a nod. “Of course.”

“What do I address everyone by? I know it is not their name but, what do I say?” You asked about playing with the hems of the dress. Alicent gave you a smile. “I am Queen Alicent, you address all royalty by ‘your grace’ including Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanrya. Next to you sits my father, Lord hand Otto Hightower, next to him sits my youngest; Prince Aemond,” She watched you give her a confused look.

“I would’ve thought he was the oldest.” You whisper looking towards Aemond who always seemed to be giving a stuck up smirk. 

Alicent gave a small laugh before shaking her head. “No, Aegon, the one who sits in front of you is my eldest.” She corrected as she watched Aegon lift his chalice to you and nodded. “Next to him is his wife and my second eldest Helaena.” Alicents smiled turned into a frown when she saw you look at her confused. She watched you shake your head and look over to Jacaerys. “That is Princess Rheanrya’s eldest son, Prince Jacearys Velaryon, then next to him his betrothed, Princess Baela Targeryen, and to her right his the second eldest, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and finally Princess Rhaena.” 

“So I address everyone as ‘your grace’ then.” You whispered to her and she nodded. “Except for your father?” Once more Alicent nodded. 

A sound was heard outside and Alicent stood up and you followed right after her. Everyone watched as Viserys was brought in and his eyes zeroed in on you before giving you a small nod. Viserys called your name and you gave a curtsy, though Alicent has no idea where you learned that from. Alicent watched you as you looked to her before addressing the King properly and though she had only just taught you, a small sense of pride emerged in her chest. 

“I thank you for your suggestion to the Maesters. I feel…better as hard as it is to believe.” Viserys spoke to you, giving you a smile. You found it hard to smile back. Finally Viserys addressed his family and you sat silently playing with the rings on your fingers. 

“Prayer before we begin?” You heard Queen Alicent ask and for a moment you wondered what their religion was. As she prayed you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. What was the mother, or the smith? It wasn’t funny but nonetheless a smile was on your lips. You looked across from you and saw Aegon pointing to his shoulders. You raised a brow unsure of what he meant. 

Once more he made the gesture with a questioning face and once you understood it, your face went hot. He was asking about your undergarments and where they were. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him and instead towards the end of the table where Jacaerys and his betrothed was. Once again, like before he was looking at you. He turned his eyes away quickly once more away from you. Then you looked over to the girl next to him. Despite the fact that Alicent had only just told you their names, you had already forgotten them. 

She looked at you with an almost questioning look. Perhaps it was the make-up. You don’t think they have ever seen modern make-up. You gave a small smile and she gave you one back. Then you looked towards the end of the table where the younger siblings of the two sat. The dark haired one looked towards you and unlike his older brother did not shy away when you met his gaze. You gave a smile and he returned it. Before you could get a better look towards the last one King Viserys spoke. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rheana further strengthening the relationship between the two houses—” As Viserys spoke it caused you to make an involuntary face. 

Their cousins!? That was madness to you!

Everyone heard a laugh and you controlled your facial expressions and you looked towards Aegon as he looked at you. He cleared his throat and said his apologies, though he looked at you and smiled and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you both looked towards each other. 

For the rest of the speech you both smiled towards each other as if you were both making fun of the King. Whilst you smiled towards Aegon you both were blissfully unaware of the looks everyone else gave, from Aemond and Otto, to Luke and Rhaena. 

Your attention was brought away from Aegon when the King stood up. As he spoke you looked from the corner of your eye to Aegon and he looked towards you. It seemed as if you were both speaking with your eyes. Your eyes shifted from Aegon to the King throughout his speech of family. You felt out of place and Aegon was the only one who seemed to respond when you looked towards him. 

But when Viserys took off his mask your appetite quickly left as it came. You rubbed your neck looking away from the King blinking towards Aemond who met your gaze but did nothing  but look back. It was almost as awkward as each time you tried to look towards Jacaerys, only this time Aemond’s gaze did intimate you. 

You looked away from him to down at the table then back up only to find that intense gaze still you. Once more you blinked and looked down before offering a weak smile, which was not reciprocated.

Finally you watched Viserys speak and you swore you saw small specks of spit fly out. It made sense the man had a hole in his face.

However, you were NOT catching leprosy besides, this was medieval food. You doubt you were missing much.

You leaned back in your chair. This was so not like the movies. Not to mention the whole incest stuff was just a little too much for you. Yes, you knew about cousins marrying each other but uncles and nieces!? Siblings!? You shook your head. As you looked up you saw Aegon watching you then look towards you drink. Looking around you saw others looking towards you expectantly. 

“Oh, sorry.” You took a small sip from the wine and found yourself smiling just a bit. It was good, well fermented. You observed the glass, it was quite nice. You found yourself looking at yourself in the reflection the wine offered and you drank some more feeling a warmth flood your face and ears and an involuntary smile grew on your face.

A loud sound startled you and caused you to flinch slightly. You looked up to see Jacaerys. He then looked over to you and once more he looked away. You raised a brow then you turned to watch Aemond stand. Then you saw Jacaerys lift his cup. Great. Another speech. How fun.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen eachother in years, I have fond memories of our shared youth…and as men I hope we may yet be friends and allies.” You don’t know why, but suddenly you began to giggle. 

You didn’t bother paying attention to the rest as you tried to stop the sudden laugh attack. Your shoulders shook as you held your face down and you felt eyes on you. 

You looked up to see the displeased look on Aegon’s face and Jacaerys grabbing his shoulders and you had to cover your mouth and you gave a slightly louder giggle. You breathed in deeply trying to calm yourself but the smile would not leave your face. 

“I’d like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon, it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Helaena spoke and though it was a sad statement you laughed and all eyes shifted to you. Helaena, the sweet thing laughed alongside you. You both laugh, grinning towards each other. 

“This wine is very good.” You giggled out. Soon the music started and you continued to drink. As the food was passed to you, you refused it. As the night progressed you watched Helaena and Jacaerys dance with each other and then your laughter suddenly died down. 

It reminded you of your own family dinners. What did your family think? You wondered when your funeral would be? It would only be logical that they assume you’re dead. In the hall where everything was bright, your face sat out of place and a sorrowful expression sat. 

“A dance my lady?” You looked up to see Aegon. 

“I don’t know how to dance the way y’all dance.” You spoke in low tones. 

“How do you dance to this music?” Aegon tried once more watching from the corner of his eye his wife and Jace dance. 

“Waltz maybe? I don’t know” You responded. 

“Teach me then.” Aegon takes your hands and pulls you from your seat. A smile from flattery comes on your face and you feel others watching as you walk past Helaena and Jace. Your face turns a shade of pink. 

“The best I have is from Cinderella.” You whisper as you take his arm and place him around your waist and you take his other hand holding it in your own as you step closer to each other. 

“I don’t know what Cinderella is, but if it means you’re this close to me, then I think I’ll like it.” Aegon teased. “So what now?” 

“Umm good question. Okay just follow my lead. Step backward with your right.” You told him looking down between the both of you. As he stepped backwards you stepped forward with your left foot. “Now backwards with your right foot.” You whispered and you followed his movements. “Okay to the left with your left foot next to your right foot.” He nodded and you followed after him. “Finally step forward with your right foot, moving it slightly in front of your left foot, those are all the moves then you just repeat.” After one or two mistakes both of you began dancing to the beat of the music avoiding Jace and Helaena. 

You smiled and giggled as you both danced. “We dance like this until the songs are over” Aegon asked as he pulled you closer to him and you shrugged. “I suppose we can spin.” You whispered and led him into dancing in a circle. You pulled his hand away from your waist and raised the hand you held to spin yourself then once more you both resumed dancing. 

“I thought you said you did not know how to dance?” He grinned and you shrugged. “Not to this music.” 

“Mayhaps you may show me your music one day.” He suggested and you both spun. 

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him. 

The room stood still as they watched you both dance, shades of dark greens spinning and seemingly gliding across the floor to the music. It was hard to look away, especially because it seemed so scandalous having a man and woman so close to each other. 

They watched as Aegon let go of your hand and lifted you up and spun you in the air before setting you down to dance once more. They all watched you both laugh as you both once more glided across the floor. However a fist hit the table abruptly stopping the music. You let go of Aegon and turned to Aemond. 

“Final tribute.” Aemond raised his glass and you looked towards Aegon confused. He shared your look. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise…strong.” 

There was an implication, though it was one you could not understand. You looked towards Aegon who had a large smile on his face. Clearly he understood the reference. He pulled you by the hand and took his cup and grabbed your own, filling it to the brim with wine for you. 

“Aemond.” Queen Alicent warned. 

You raised your cup alongside Aegon looking towards Luke though his eyes were only on Aemond. Then you looked back towards Jace who looked like he was seething, though he stood in a funny way that made you giggle a bit. 

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond finished. 

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace challenged. You were thoroughly confused. 

Was the word ‘strong’ an insult here? “Prince Aegon, is strong not a compliment here?” You whispered. 

He grinned and shook his head. “It is. My nephews are just…sensitive.” He whispered back. 

“Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think of yourself as strong?” Aemond finished and you watched as Jace walked to him and hit him. You gasped and then you were pulled back behind Aegon as he slammed Luke’s head onto the table. 

“Stop!” You yelled towards Aegon. Aegon seemed to be around your age while Luke looked to be thirteen. You tried to pull Aegon off pushing you back. As you were pushed back, so was Jacaerys. You both collided into each other while he took the brunt of the fall. 

He helped you up and went back to charge back but you held onto him. As you held him back, it was the first time you really got to look at him. At any other time he would look away. As you looked longer you noticed that he had very pretty eyes. A nice dark brown. “Stop.” You whispered out. 

“Are you going to hide behind a woman nephew?” Aemond remarked while giving a cruel smile. 

You saw Jacarey narrows his eyes and begins to push against you. “Are you gonna hide behind your words?” You glared back towards him. 

“This does not concern you.” You turned and looked up towards Daemon. He towered over you, and he still had his sword on him, you knew you got lucky last time. You doubt you will be so fortunate next time. You saw his hand coming towards your face and instinctively you stepped back away from Jacaerys. The stinging sensation his backhand gave you came back and your lip felt like it was pulsing. He gave you a cruel smirk enjoying your fear of him and he stepped closer and you stepped back. 

You wanted to look away from him, but you feared that if you did he would cut you down. It wasn’t until you bumped into something that you looked back and saw a glimpse of long white hair. However, as fast as you looked back, you looked towards Daemon again, though you weren’t fast enough to evade the hand that grabbed the bottom of your face, squeezing it so that it made the cut on your lip open again. 

You hissed out a cry as his thumb was putting pressure over the bruise he had caused earlier. You felt hands on your shoulders pulling you back away from Daemon’s grasp. Daemon scoffed before he wiped his hands on his pants, showing some of your foundation. You could only assume that some of your bruises were showing. 

“You look good green.” It was all Daemon said before you were ushered out by Aemond by command of Alicent. 

Note: Every time I try to go team black I somehow end up writing for green. Also, I think I would really die if I had no music.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[hello-nichya-here]

Did Sia insult topic of autism somehow?

Oh honey, it's sooooooooo much worse than that.

Sia wanted to make a movie about an autistic girl that manages to connect to people/feel safe and confident through music. So far, nothing outrageous, just a simple concept that would obviously put Sia's music front and center while doing something nice and educating people on autism.

There was controversy about her not casting an autistic actress as it would have been nice representation, but she could have totally gotten away with that since, come on, hollywood hasn't even figured out Rain Man isn't exactly true to life, they're not ready to have an autistic person playing an autistic character. Baby steps.

The real problem started when Sia started promoting the "charity/support group" that was helping "educate" her on the topic to make the movie. The "charity" in question was Autism Speaks - which is absolutely HATED by the autistic community for things like:

1 - Spreading the myth that autism is a mental illness that one can develop/catch like the freaking flue and potentially be cured of, instead of a neurotype, aka something starts in the woomb and cannot be "cured" because to do that you'd need to replace someone's entire nervous system, which is impossible.

2 - Using that myth to get outrageous amounts of money from people so they "search for a cure" - that doesn't exist and will never exist because curing autism is biologically impossible, AND despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of autistic people don't even want to be "cured" (plus, since said "cure" would essentially mean giving the person a new brain, it leads to the question of "Would I even be the same person, or would that just kill and replace me?")

3 - Using the myth of "We don't know what causes autism" (we do, it's genetic) to, of course, get MORE money from people so they can "do research to find the missing puzzle piece" (if you ever see autistic people complaining about a puzzle piece being used to represent the condition, that's why, it was started by Autism Speak's massive disinformation campains).

4 - Falsely "confirming" things like soy milk cause autism with one of the world's most ridiculous "research", losing only to "vaccines totally make kids autistic, buy MY vaccine instead, guys, I am totally not an unbelievably biased person, it's ALL the other doctors/scientists lying to you. GIVE ME MONEY!"

5 - Pushing the narrative of "autism is inherently a tragedy" to distract from the fact that all the money they waste on stupid shit could be used to help autistic people and their families. Instead, they focus on creating more and more panic, making parents in particular despair even more - to the point that one of their "awareness videos" includes a mother talking about how she wants to murder her autistic daughter and then kill herself... while sitting right next to said daughter.

6 - Promoting ABA "therapy" - which was created by the same guy responsible for the attrocity that is gay conversion "therapy." Both have led to unbelievably high rates of confirmed PTSD and suicidal ideation in patients (victims), and ABA in particular has been compared to literal dog training. Very fitting since it was created by a guy who famously did not believe autistic people truly counted as thinking, feeling human beings, and said as much several times. Despite that, it is still praised by some utter bastards because "it makes the patients act less autistic when they're not crying in the corner or trying to jump out a window"

So yeah, working with these guys is a genuinely horrible thing to do since they're basically a scam/hate group pretending to be a charity - and people were STILL willing to give Sia the benefit of the doubt, since Autism Speak uses all their resources to make sure they're the first thing people see when looking up how to help autistic people.

Lots of Sia's fans, both autistic and allistic, warned her repeatedly, politely, that she needed to supporting them IMMEDIATELY as their goal was the exact opposite of the one she claimed to have - aka raise awareness through an accurate portrail of autism. People were even kind enough to name organizations like ASAN as replacements to help her fix any damage done to the project.

And instead of being a decent human being, Sia decided to cry on twitter about how the mean retar-I mean, autistics were bullying her even when she was so kindly using them for her vanity project.

Because yes, that's how the movie turned out. An unwatcheable piece of garbage, with the autistic "character" being so fucking bad even the people who actively use "autistic" as insulted being offended on our behalf - and of course, she was used just a prop to show how awesome Sia's character was.

Seriously, it was so bad the actress playing the autistic girl was sobbing in between scenes because she knew how it was horrible and she didn't want to insult anyone, but Sia is literally her godmother and helped her career by putting her in nearly all her music videos so she felt obligated to go along with it.

So yeah, fuck Sia and fuck Autism Speaks.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

this FIV+ man needs a home!

hello! this very friendly little stray orange boy in Houston TX needs somewhere to live that is not my house! I’m willing to drive within the texas triangle, or meet someone halfway. He has had some basic vetting.

why is he in my bathroom and why can’t he stay here?

He is a known community cat that is the bane of my first cat’s existence, and wanted to be friends So Bad I had to put bird spikes up on my windowsills. My two cats are FIV negative, and I can only hold onto him for two more weeks.

what’s his deal?

He's about two, about ten pounds, and is extremely people social to the point it is genuinely difficult taking pics of him, bc he is convinced both hands should be petting him at all times. You can sling him around with one while he purrs up a storm. I’ve seen him peaceably hanging out with other colony cats outside, so I assume he is cat social with a slow introduction.

He is not thrilled about having his ears touched (he is ear mite free) or having his paws touched, but we are working on desensitization. He is also extremely bad at being restrained for a blood draw at the vet.

what care has he received?

Basic exam

Neuter

Rabies vax

Microchip

Dewormer

Revolution II flea/tick/mite treatment

FeLV/FIV test (negative and a faint positive respectively, he can be retested in six months to see if it was a false positive but should be treated as if he is a positive cat in the meantime)

He’s eating (grain free dry kibble since that’s what my girls are on) and drinking and healing well from his neuter.

He's correctly using the litter box with basic clay litter, he's not spraying in my bathroom or pissing up the sides of the litter box, but he is a very enthusiastic advocate of burying waste as thoroughly as possible.

He will need a dental at some point for some gingivitis, and he will need to get the rest of his vaccinations and have a second round of dewormer (I’ll give it to you) in two weeks.

who else has been contacted?

Over forty local rescues and shelters, who are all at capacity or haven’t responded since I tried to contact them a week ago. I've also been posting on local Facebook FIV+ cat groups.

[cllightning81]

Rottweiler [LS2]

Summary : A little puppy goes missing, which leads to you finding the love of your life who you help out with his job a year later.

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Word Count : 1.1k

Masterlist Dogs Masterlist Logan Sargeant Masterlist Tag List

The day you met Logan, you were on a run throughout the park when a little puppy decided that during your water break, she was going to have a little chew on your ankle. You looked down at the puppy with a smile 

“Hey there, pup. Where’s your mummy or daddy?” You asked, crouching down. The little pup wasn’t attached to a leash, and there was no one looking frantic. You picked the little pup up reading the name tag on her tiny pink collar. You smiled at the sight of a phone number before giving it a call. 

“Hello?” A man answered, and you smiled at the fact someone answered 

“Hey so I think I just found your dog?” You said as the little pup who’d you now found out was called ‘Coco’

“Coco’s missing?” He asked, voice now changing into panic. 

“Yeah. Found her nibbling my ankles” You giggled 

“Oh my god. I’m in a meeting right now. Can you bring her to me? Is that too much to ask for?” He rushed the panic now, definitely setting in 

“Of course. Just send me where to meet you and I’ll bring her” You smiled 

“Thank you so much” You both said your byes before the text message came through with the address to meet him at. You walked to your car, putting little Coco on the passenger seat smiling as she happily curled up in a little ball and sound asleep instantly. 

You set the address up into your maps and started driving there. The radio in the background giving a little more noise than just Coco snoring. Pulling up outside the address, you looked up at the big building. 

‘William’s Racing’ You got out the car picking little Coco up as you got out. Scratching behind her ears as you accidentally startled her awake. 

“Sorry pup” You smiled, walking inside looking about trying to find the owner. Coco nibbling on your fingers 

“Oh Coco” The American accent sounded through your ears as you turned around with a smile. The pup's tail wagged in your arms as she saw her owner. A little bark escaping her lips. 

“Oh thank you so much” He smiled as you handed her over

“No problem. Just happy that she found her owners again. I’m Y/N, by the way” You smiled 

“Logan. I’ve only just brought her over from America and figured it was time she actually came with me and look at her now. Running away” You giggled a little 

“Has she had all her vaccines?” You asked, and he nodded 

“Yeah she has. She just hasn’t had her walk for the day yet” You nodded 

“Well I occasionally look after and walk pups. Not very often, but if you need someone to give her a walk while you’re all busy here, then you have my number” You smiled 

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it” 

And that’s what he did. The next day, you got a call, and the day after that until he finally asked you on a date. That was a year ago now. 

Walking into the paddock with Logan was now your favourite thing to do. Coco left in your apartment as it was the British Grand Prix. Coco was getting too big to bring to Grand Prix’s all of the time, so you had to make the tough decision to leave her at home sometimes. 

Logan was holding your hand tightly as you walked. This week hadn’t been the best for him with Williams announcing Carlos without even announcing that Logan wouldn’t be continuing and while Logan was in talks with a team or two he still didn’t know what was happening with his career. 

You rubbed your thumb gently over the back of Logan’s, hand trying to relax him in any way possible. However, you knew him and James weren’t on speaking terms currently, which made the garage even more awkward. Logan sat down in his drivers room, and you smiled, ignoring the look he was giving you. 

“Your manager is shit” You said straight up, not messing about, and Logan shrugged slightly

“We both know I’ve got a degree in business. I’m not working at the moment, it’s my own fault not working, I know, but your manager is doing nothing to help you find another seat. Fire him and let me do his job” You crouched down in front of him.

“You don’t see enough of me as your boyfriend. You want me to hire you?” Logan asked, raising his eyebrows 

“Hey it's not my fault I got fired. I know I said it’s my own fault, but I wanted to make you feel better” You shrugged, and he laughed 

“And what about this random photography degree you randomly dropped on me the other day?” He asked, and you shrugged again  

“I needed something to pass time, so I guess if you want a photographer. I’m available” You replied 

“Please find me somewhere. I’ll fire him right now” You smiled, hugging him. 

And that’s what you did. You went around every team in the paddock, making every CEO, Principle and owner that you could find. Until you finally got a sit-down meeting  with Mercedes and Kick Sauber. 

Toto Wolff offered Logan a reserve driver spot, whereas Alessandro Bravi offered Logan the second seat next to Nico Hulkenburg. So you went back to Logan’s drivers room after qualifying 

“You look very happy” Logan hummed, and you nodded, setting down both contracts on the table in front of him. Logan glanced at them before looking up at you with wide eyes 

“You’re serious?” He asked, and you nodded, crouching down in front of him 

“I’m very good at my job as a manager. Now, Mercedes has offered you a third driver position. Basically, test and reserve like what Mick was doing, which in itself is a good position. Then Kick Sauber have offered you the second seat but it’s only for a year until they turn into Audi then it might get renewed or it might not” You explained as he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could 

“I love you, I love you, I love you” He repeated, and you smiled 

“I love you too now personally I’d go with Kick Sauber. It’s only a little bit more money, but you get to continue in F1 love” You smiled. That’s what Logan did. He signed the contract with Kick Sauber later that week after his lawyer checked over it. You couldn’t have been prouder of Logan

You managed to get the love of your life a seat in his favourite thing in the world, and you managed to make him happier again in more than one way. Not only were you extremely proud of Logan, but proud of yourself at how far you’d actually come in life.

Coming Soon

Tag List

Dogs

@GlitzyDitsy

Logan Sargeant

@barcelonaloverf1life @hiireadstuff @lozzamez3 @f1kenzzz @evie-119 @ahgase99 @velcoesainz @talksoprettyjjx @kat-s2 @yllomhej @scarletwidow3000 @jasons-little-princess @tellybearryyy @zabwllky1999 @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @destinyg327

[olderthannetfic]

already seeing boneheads who don't read anything otw puts out "trump is gonna ban ao3 now" and i feel like i have several issues with this: 1. project 2025 may want to ban porn, but that's always been an uphill battle in the U.S. because of the first amendment, and there is going to be a lot of legal opposition. 2. the main legislation they're worried about, the comstock act, is going to be used to restrict mifepristone, not porn probably, and even then it only regulates obscenity "sent through the mail" because it's from the 1880s or something 3. the otw owns their own servers and if there was a real threat, would probably just be able to decamp them to another country 4. man, i wish this was the thing i was most concerned about now! so much is going to go south in this country, from trans rights to reproductive rights to our basic health care if RFK jr. gets the power to restrict vaccines and takes fluoride out of our water. i know people here who were looking to get pregnant and are now delaying it because they're terrified of a national abortion ban, since these laws are interpreting a D&C to take care of a miscarriage as "abortion." ukraine and gaza are fucked. it's not that i don't care about fanfiction and more broadly about free speech; i'm a donor to the otw. i've always been adamantly against any restrictions on obscenity, and fanfiction is a lot of how i'm getting through these terrible times. but it's like, when someone never posts about politics except "oh no they might ban ao3!" i'm just like god i wish i were you, without real problems lol

--

Yuuup. AO3 will almost certainly be fine in the short term (and in the long term, we should always back things up multiple places).

I also feel like... yes, the majority of my friends and many people on tumblr are in the US, but tumblr is also a highly international space. I'm sure there's someone living in far more of a hellhole than the immediate future US lurking here, and they may not even be in one of the places that this election will very directly and immediately affect.

I wish people would have some perspective, both because it can give us a good idea of what we have to most especially fight against but also because things are not as apocalyptic as some people seem to believe.

[urfavfakeblonde]

ₘy fₐᵥₒᵣᵢₜₑ ₛcₐᵣ pt.1

what happens when two ex-hydra soldiers and The Falcon go after the Flag Smasher Group, especially after the past?

Warnings: violence, cursing??

I glance up from my hiding spot in the storage house at the sound of two voices coming from the hall. Faintly, I heard someone say, "Hello, how are you?" With a scoff, the other one whispered, "Good. What'd I miss? Nothin'." I roll my eyes as I realize who it is, the sarcasm is enough of an indicator. I round the container, keeping quiet as they continued to bicker about how many people were loading the truck outside. I pop up next to Sam, glancing at the man loading the truck.

"There's 5 of them," I whisper cooly as Sam jumps back in shock. Bucky's eyes widen as I keep my stare forward at the mission. "The hell is your problem?" He asks glaring at me. I glare back at him and stand up fully. "You told me to meet you here," I say as my hands gesture to the storage unit. Sam settles back into his spot as he fiddles with his arm monitor for Red Wing. "Didn't have pop up like a fuckin' creep," he mumbles. "Didn't tell me she was coming, you wouldn't even let me come," Bucky bickers. Sam shoots him a look with a chuckle. "Yeah, well she's nicer than you even if she scares the shit outta me sometimes," he whispers.

Suddenly, something dropped on the ground and the loaders stopped moving the boxes. We all duck down, watching quietly. Soon enough, the trucks start to leave the unit, and Sam gives the go signal. Bucky and I run quickly to keep up with the trucks as Sam flies over. As Bucky gets on the back of the first one, I get on the last, opening the containers. Inside, I don't find anything but boxes of vaccines. With a sigh, I start to climb up the truck to get on top. Suddenly, I hear a crash with a groan as the truck wobbles. "Shit!" I seethe, seeing men with masks coming out of both trucks and up top. Bucky finds his way onto the top of the truck, watching as a man lunges at me. I duck as Sam kicks him over, letting him hang off the side. Glancing down the truck at Bucky, he starts to fight a man in a mask, while one grabs me from behind. He throws me forward, fist landing beside my head. My legs lock around his torso, flipping him over as I grab my knife from its holder. I plug it at his head as he grabs my wrist, snarling in the mask. I groan in frustration, kicking him in the side to push him off. He stands up, holding his side until Bucky plunges at him.

I breathe heavily, stabbing my knife behind me into another man's stomach. He screams, falling onto the truck. Turning around, two men have Bucky in the hold as Red Wing flies at the red-headed girl in the mask. She grabs it, breaking it over her knee. "I always wanted to do that," I hear Bucky groan as the girl turns around. As Bucky gets the men off of him, the girl kicks him off the side of the truck, a high-pitched screech coming from his metal arm scraping the side of it. "That little girl kicked your ass!" Sam laughs, flying around the side of the truck as Bucky yells at him. Suddenly, the girl comes at me, blocking her with my arms. I kick her in the stomach which causes her to recoil back, glaring at me through her mask. A loud roar of an engine comes down the road, a shield flying through the air. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was, his booming voice muffled in my ringing ears. "You've gotta be kidding me," I sigh. As John Walker fights the men, I sit on the end of the truck to watch with a sarcastic smile. "You gonna help?" He yells. "No, I'll watch," I say with a smile until I hear a yell as I glance over my shoulder, Sam plunging under the trucks to grab Bucky as they tumble into the field. I stand back up and continue to fight, ending shortly as the girl shoves me off the side of the truck. I scream, tumbling into the grass, and rolling down the small hill as I land with a groan. Catching my breath, I stare up at the sky. Eventually, the same two bickering voices come near, groggy standing up with a groan. I slowly walked back up to the road, meeting up with the two men. "That was a really shitty plan Sam," I say, dusting off the grass from my pants. He rolls his eyes as I walk alongside him and Bucky, headed to the main road. "Sorry about Red Wing," Bucky finally says to break the silence. "No your not," Sam shoots back without even glancing at him. They continue to bicker about cyborgs and random shit as the same stupid car comes rolling up the road from behind us. We all knew who it was, glaring as we kept our focus forward. "Yall need a ride?" His annoying voice asked. It was almost condescending actually. We stayed silent as he opened the back door, closing it as we walked past him. "Oh come on, it's like 20 miles until the main road." He says, opening the door again. "Just get in." We stopped walking glancing at each other. My eyes stayed locked with Bucky's for an uncomfortable amount of time before getting in the truck.

As John blabbers about something stupid, I'm sure, I can't help but notice Bucky's thigh against mine. The truck isn't all that big; John and another man are on one side, and Sam, Bucky, and I are on the other. Sam argues with John as Bucky stares him down, earning a "Does he always stare like that?" from "Mr. Captain America." On the other hand, I stare out the back of the truck, watching the road. "And who is she?" I hear John's friend say, causing the group of men to go quiet. Reluctantly turning my attention to him I raise my brow. "Who are you?" I say sarcastically in return with a scoff. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, blinking a few times. "I'm Battlestar, Captain America sidekick," he says proudly. Bucky scoffs next to me and I let out a snort. "Battlestar?" Bucky repeats as he looks him up and down. After an awkward silence, Sam starts to say something but Bucky interrupts. "Stop the car!" He yells getting up to leave. "Oh, come on Bucky! We need to work as a team!" John says, hands waving in the air. The truck comes to a stop and Bucky gets out as I follow. Sam and John continue to argue before he eventually follows us up the path. Soon enough, the truck putters away and we head to the town.

[lalasworld2x]

Brahms x Reader Headcanons

This takes place after you find out he’s a grown man lol (but you don’t kill him of course)

• There aren’t any romantic feelings at first just because you’re still interested in Malcom, but you can decide if you guys have a falling out or if you just lose interest lol.

• It might take a bit to convince him to do house chores as well, as he’s lived his whole life in the walls and just has the mindset of “people have always done it for me, why stop now??”

• If you ever get mad at him, he’d probably try and finish all the house tasks before you get a chance to just so there’s now a reason for you to not be mad at him.

• He still likes to stay in the walls quite often, like a safe space for him.

• At the start, he used to get really overwhelmed by being out for so long, so you’d sit and comfort him for as long as possible. This just made him fall for you harder.

• He loves to cuddle in bed. He’s been touch starved so long, he just wants a warm bed and a warm embrace for hours on end ☹️💔

• Sometimes the closeness is never enough for him, like he just needs to be as close to you as possible. It’s not enough until he is literally molding into you, like angler fish lmao. If this makes you uncomfortable, he will back off but it will be a bit hard for him.

• He can definitely be demanding and sometimes very selfish, you may unfortunately have to still treat him like a child. I bet naughty corners would still work tbh… make sure you set clear boundaries and speak up for yourself.

• Although it’s definitely understandable if you were afraid to stand up for yourself, we already know he’s willing to hurt you and those that you love just to make sure you’d stick around.. I’m not gonna lie, it would actually probably be helpful to learn at least a bit of self defence in case he ever does try to put his hands on you. I’m sure even being strong enough to hold him in a head lock would scare him enough to back off and respect you more.

• This man does not gaf about body types or anything, he loves em all! Lean, muscular, chunky, curvy, slender, average- anything and he loves it!! He just wants someone to take care of him

• His immune system would probably be on the border of decent and not very good. He’s lived his life in the walls which is certainly not clean and nurturing space, but he also hasn’t really gotten out enough to get sick or hurt himself. Obviously he had a life before being forced into hiding, but he did spend like a decade tucked away. Would probably help you to get him vaccinated lol. ANYWAYS my point is, he might get sick fairly often, especially if you do actually start bringing friends and family over and you get to have an actual job. He would LOVE to have you coddle him. Tuck him right into bed, make him hot soup, coo over him, etc.

• Just because you would hate to be stuck at home with him all day I’m sure, you set some boundaries and convince him that he will be okay if you apply for jobs or go out to get materials and such for your own job if you work from home. And you should absolutely have the right to bring friends and family over now that he’s no longer a doll. This might upset him for a while, but you both come up with ways to make this arrangement comfortable for you.

• He compliments you all the time. You makeup, outfit, hair, posture, ideas, expression, the way you look when stretching or exercising, your interests- anything and everything!

• He will make small crafts for you as gift, mostly paper. He may even learn some origami for you with a book he found. He’s a bit shy when gift giving so he’ll leave it in a spot he knows you will find it and go somewhere else to hide and watch your reaction.

• He might be a bit shy to try new foods, but if he knows that you really enjoy them, it might encourage him a bit. He would love to indulge in your own culture more, so he would be less timid about trying traditional foods from your cultural background!

———————-

I know this one is kinda shit, I was struggling to think of things that I haven’t already seen other creators write before and I did NOT want to steal peoples ideas 😭😭

Masterlist

[hetchdrive]

Anyway. The thing that gets me about The Man Trap is the scene where they're all sitting around the table with Crater and the salt vampire in the guise of McCoy and Kirk asks Crater if he can identify it even in disguise. And he says yes, and the camera is trained on its (McCoy's) face, and Crater is like, we were happy together, because what it needs more than salt is love. It needs to be loved. With the camera on McCoy's face, in an episode that centers around a lost love of his, in the first episode of the whole show on every streaming service and dvd set I have ever used to watch it. Like. McCoy's establishing characterization is of a man who is lonely. Episode fucking one is him killing someone he'd once loved to save Kirk and Spock. He's divorced, he throws himself into experimental vaccine testing and torture and so much else on Kirk and Spock's behalf, comes to Spock's defense even though he heckles him constantly, he only lets himself fall in love because he's dying of an incurable disease.

And Spock gives him his soul to carry.

[doingbad]

h/w fanmix

In honor of Watson's Sketchbook doing FINA, I'm sharing my Holmes/Watson playlist for Final Problem - post Empty House. This playlist alternate's POV from Watson to Holmes.

Under the cut

Old Friend - Mitski (Watson is married, but still goes away with Holmes)

We nearly drowned For such a silly thing Someone who loves me now Better than you

John My Beloved - Sufjan Stevens (Holmes knows this is their last trip)

So can we pretend sweetly Before the mystery ends? I am a man with a heart that offends With its lonely and greedy demands There's only a shadow of me in a matter of speaking I'm dead

hoax - Taylor Swift (Watson)

Stood on the cliffside Screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

Anyone's Ghost- The National (Holmes)

You said it was not inside my heart, it was You said it should tear a kid apart, it does

The Engine Driver - The Decemberists (Watson starts to publish )

And I am a writer, writer of fictions I am the heart that you call home And I've written pages upon pages Trying to rid you from my bones

I Should Live In Salt - The National (Holmes has regrets)

I should live in salt for leaving you behind

I Am Easy to Find - The National (Watson hasn't moved on)

There's a million little battles that I'm never gonna win anyway I'm still waiting for you every night with ticker tape, ticker tape

Sax Rohmer #1 - The Mountain Goats (Holmes fights back)

I am coming home to you With my own blood in my mouth And I am coming home to you If it's the last thing that I do

If You Wanna - The Vaccines (Watson in EMPT)

But if you wanna come back, it's alright, it's alright It's alright if you wanna come back Do you wanna come back? It's alright, it's alright It's alright if you wanna come back to me

Marry Me - St Vincent (Holmes makes promises)

But you, you're a rock with a heart Like a socket I can plug into at will And will you guess when I come around next? I hope your open sign is blinking still

I Was a Fool -Tegan And Sara (Watson takes him back)

Still I stuck around I did behave I saved you every time I was a fool for love

Me and My Husband - Mitski (They're back and everything is fine kinda)

But me and my husband We're doing better It's always been just him and me, together

[rainforestakiie]

Yo! Follower/Stalker on Be Lonely with Me from AO3 and I have been infected by Tumblr outside of YouTube.

Was wondering if you'd ever update Vacation Away? Always wondered what happened to it.

hello! aw, i'm so happy you like my writing! it means so much to me! thank you for all the support!

yes, of course i will write another part for you! i hope you like it!

Vacation Away (Adam/Lucifer goes on vacation on Earth) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03.

Half the week had drifted by like a lazy cloud since Adam had left Heaven, the bustling city that felt more like a gilded cage than a home. The town he now found himself in was quaint, nestled between rolling hills and kissed by the soft blush of early spring. Yet, his mind wasn’t on the picturesque charm or even the reason for his journey—the required vaccination that had dragged him here. No, his thoughts were consumed by Samuel.

The odd little man staying at the same inn had a way of commandeering Adam’s mind, unbidden and relentless. Samuel was peculiar in the most endearing way—a wiry frame that seemed too small to house the vibrant energy he carried, a goofy grin that crept up unprovoked, and eyes that gleamed with a mischievous sparkle, the colour of the clearest morning sky after a storm. Adam couldn’t help but smile faintly, a soft, wistful thing, as he thought of the way Samuel laughed—full-bodied and infectious, like music that lingered long after the song had ended.

It was strange, this pull he felt. Sweet. Unfamiliar. Adam didn’t think he’d ever looked at someone this way before, let alone a man. Not since… Eden.

His chest tightened, and his gaze drifted out the window. The world beyond blurred as his thoughts turned inward, his reflection ghosting on the glass. His eyes grew distant, soft, and shadowed with memories he couldn’t outrun.

Eden. The word alone was heavy, like honey laced with poison. Eden was where his heart had first learned to soar and where it had been shattered beyond recognition. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window, his breath fogging the pane. How he longed for Eden—its golden skies, the gentle hum of its rivers, the animals that knew him and trusted him. He would give anything, everything, to go back.

But alone.

Always alone.

Eden, his paradise, was haunted. Each perfect bloom, each serene vista, reminded him of what he had lost, what he had endured. The ache of betrayal, the weight of his choices—it was all tied to that sacred, cursed place. Returning would be a solace, yes, but one he could only bear in solitude.

And yet, as the thought of Samuel flitted through his mind again, it jarred something loose in him. Adam frowned slightly, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the window. Samuel’s presence, his laughter, his small kindnesses—they were all unbidden, disruptive, but… comforting in a way that Adam couldn’t explain.

What was it about that strange man with the sparky blue eyes that made the heaviness in his chest feel a little lighter? Could it be that Samuel was more than a passing curiosity? Adam wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the inn felt warmer when Samuel was near, and the nights didn’t seem as lonely.

Shaking his head, Adam turned his attention back to the view outside. The twilight was setting in, painting the town in hues of lavender and rose. A soft knock at the door startled him from his reverie.

“Adam?”

The voice was unmistakable, a bit hesitant but still carrying that distinct warmth that Samuel never seemed to lack. Adam’s heart stuttered, unprepared for the surge of emotions the sound evoked. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob before he opened it.

Samuel stood there, grinning sheepishly, his hair mussed as if he’d just rolled out of bed, though it was barely evening. He held out a steaming cup.

“Hot chocolate,” he said, a little too quickly. “I noticed you seemed… quiet at breakfast. Thought maybe you could use some.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. “I—thank you.”

His voice softer than he intended. He took the cup, their fingers brushing briefly. The touch was fleeting, but it left his skin tingling.

Samuel lingered, rocking on his heels.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his grin faltering slightly, as though unsure of his welcome.

Adam hesitated, his instincts urging him to retreat, to guard himself. But then he looked at Samuel—truly looked—and something inside him softened. The man’s vulnerability was palpable, and Adam found himself nodding before he could think better of it.

“Sure,” he said, stepping aside to let Samuel in.

The fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting flickering amber light across the room. Adam leaned back against the windowsill, the warmth of his cup seeping into his palms, grounding him. Samuel was sprawled on the worn-out rug near the fire, his head propped up on one hand, his other tracing absentminded patterns in the air as he spoke. He was telling a story about a mischievous duck he’d encountered during his travels, his voice animated, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.

Adam found himself watching more than listening, caught up in the way Samuel’s face lit up, the way his smile came so easily. It was magnetic, this energy Samuel carried, and Adam couldn’t help but be drawn to it, even as he tried to keep his feelings in check.

“And then, just as I thought I’d lost it for good,” Samuel said, gesturing dramatically, “The duck pops up behind me with the scarf in its mouth, looking all smug. I swear, it was laughing at me. You should’ve seen its face, Graham.”

Adam’s breath hitched. Graham. The name hung in the air like a bell, jolting him from his thoughts. He froze, the cup halfway to his lips, his heart skipping a beat as he processed the name. It wasn’t his, not really, but he’d used it so casually in this little town that hearing it felt… wrong. And yet, the way Samuel said it—with that warm, teasing lilt—made it sound right.

Realizing he hadn’t responded, Adam forced himself to move, lowering the cup slowly and plastering on a small smile.

“Oh? Did you ever get the scarf back?” he asked, his voice a touch higher than usual. He winced internally at how obvious he sounded.

Samuel chuckled, oblivious to Adam’s sudden tension. “Of course I did. I had to bribe it with half my lunch, though. Ducks are crafty little devils.”  

His gaze flicked to Adam, sharp and bright as always, and he grinned. “Why? You don’t strike me as a scarf person, Graham.”

There it was again. Graham. Adam’s stomach did a flip, and his blush deepened, creeping up his neck and to his cheeks. He cleared his throat, gripping the cup tighter to steady himself.

“I’m not, really,” he said, managing to keep his voice even. “But I think it’s nice that you made a friend, even if it was a duck.”

Samuel laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and it sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.

“You’re funny, you know that?” Samuel said, shifting to sit up straighter, his eyes locking onto Adam’s. “I mean, you’re quiet most of the time, but when you talk, it’s always something that sticks with me.”

Adam’s grip on the cup tightened. He could feel the intensity of Samuel’s gaze, those piercing blue eyes seeming to strip away every wall he’d built around himself. He fought the urge to look away, to hide, but instead, he met Samuel’s eyes, his blush betraying the calm facade he was trying so hard to maintain.

“Thanks,” Adam murmured, his voice softer than he intended. “I guess I don’t realize I do that.”

Samuel smiled, and it was different this time—gentler, more intimate.

“You do,” he said simply. “And it’s one of the reasons I like being around you.”

Adam’s heart stuttered, and he felt the blush spread further. He opened his mouth to respond but found he had no words. The room seemed to shrink, the firelight casting a cozy glow that wrapped around the two of them, isolating them from the rest of the world.

“Graham,” Samuel said again, the name rolling off his tongue like a soft caress. It wasn’t just a name—it was the way he said it, like it meant something, like he meant something. Adam forgot, for a fleeting moment, that it wasn’t really his name.

He smiled despite himself, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a shy but genuine way.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said my name that much in one night,” he teased lightly, trying to deflect, to push away the weight of what he was feeling.

Samuel grinned, leaning forward just a bit, closing the distance between them.

“Maybe that’s because nobody else noticed how good it sounds,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something sincere in the way he looked at Adam, something that made Adam’s breath hitch.

Laughing nervously, Adam shook his head as he tried to will the heat in his face to fade.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Impossible and charming,” Samuel replied, echoing his earlier words. His hand moved, brushing lightly against Adam’s knee, a touch so casual yet so deliberate that it made Adam’s pulse quicken.

For a moment, they just sat there, the space between them charged but comfortable. Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. There was something about Samuel’s presence that made him feel safe, like maybe it was okay to let his guard down, even if just for a little while.

“Graham,” Samuel said one last time, his voice softer now, almost reverent.

Breath caught, but this time, Adam didn’t freeze. He smiled, a real smile, and for once, he let himself be in the moment, even if he wasn’t sure what it all meant.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice steady, his shyness finally melting into the warmth between them.

Grin widening, and Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled brighter than the firelight.

“Nothing,” he said, leaning back with a playful shrug. “Just wanted to say it again.”

And Adam, despite himself, laughed. It wasn’t a name he’d chosen for permanence, but in Samuel’s voice, it felt like something he could live with—something he could cherish.

The morning air in Keukenhof was crisp and carried the faintest hint of dew, mingling with the sweet perfume of tulips in full bloom. Adam and Samuel strolled through the gardens, the vibrant sea of colours stretching endlessly before them. Tulips of every hue—vivid reds, soft pastels, sunny yellows—danced in the gentle breeze, creating a tapestry of life and beauty. Samuel walked slightly ahead, turning every so often to point out a flower that caught his eye, his enthusiasm as boundless as the fields themselves.

“Look at that one, Graham!” Samuel exclaimed, crouching down by a patch of tulips with frilled edges that looked like flames frozen mid-dance. “I didn’t even know flowers could look like this!”

Chuckling softly, Adam’s hands tucked into his pockets as he followed.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen a flower before,” he teased, his voice warm with affection.

Samuel glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Not like this. It’s magical, don’t you think?”

Nodding, Adam’s gaze sweeping over the vibrant blooms.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It is.”

They wandered deeper into the gardens, stopping occasionally to admire the more intricate displays. At a small stand tucked among the trees, Samuel spotted trays of truffles arranged in neat rows, each piece adorned with delicate patterns. His eyes lit up.

“We have to get some,” he said, grabbing Adam’s hand and pulling him toward the stand. Adam let himself be dragged, laughing softly at Samuel’s childlike excitement.

The vendor offered them an assortment, and Samuel picked out a small box of truffles with vibrant designs—ones shaped like tulips, tiny hearts, and even one that resembled a bumblebee. They found a bench near a quiet patch of flowers to sit and share them, Samuel popping one into his mouth and humming dramatically.

“Delicious,” he declared, holding another up to Adam. “Try this one. It’s hazelnut.”

Adam hesitated but leaned forward, taking the offered truffle. Their fingers brushed briefly, and Adam’s heart skipped a beat. The truffle melted on his tongue, sweet and rich, but the real warmth came from the way Samuel watched him, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Good, right?” Samuel asked.

Adam nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. Really good.”

As they continued walking, a burst of giggles and the twang of a guitar drew their attention to a small group of children gathered under a tree. One child held a guitar, plucking at the strings with little success, while the others clapped and cheered him on. The scene was charming, and both Adam and Samuel stopped to watch.

The child strummed the guitar again, the sound clunky and awkward.

“I can’t do it!” he huffed, pouting as his friend’s offered encouragement.

Without thinking, Adam murmured, “You need to relax your grip. Otherwise, the strings won’t sound right.”

Turning to Adam, Samuel’s eyes wide with curiosity. “Wait—you play the guitar?”

Blinking, realizing what he’d just admitted. Adam let out a sheepish sound.

“I used to,” he said carefully. “A long time ago.”

Samuel’s face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. “That’s amazing! You should show them.”

Adam held up his hands, shaking his head. “No, no. I haven’t played in years. I’m probably terrible now.”

“Oh, come on,” Samuel said, nudging him playfully. “It’ll be fun. Look at them—they’d love it.”

Before Adam could protest further, Samuel was already talking to the children, convincing them to let Adam try. They handed over the guitar eagerly, their little faces lighting up with excitement.

The weight of Samuel’s hopeful gaze leaving him little choice. He sat down on the grass, adjusting the guitar in his lap. His fingers trembled slightly as they found the strings, memories of songs he hadn’t thought about in years flooding back. With a deep breath, he began to play.

The first few notes were hesitant, but soon the melody flowed smoothly. It was a gentle, lilting tune that carried through the garden like a soft breeze. The children clapped along, their giggles and cheers filling the air. Even the flowers seemed to sway to the rhythm.

When Adam glanced up, he saw Samuel standing a few steps away, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His blue eyes were fixed on Adam, warm and unwavering, his expression a mix of awe and something deeper—something that made Adam’s heart ache in the best possible way.

Adam’s fingers faltered slightly, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks burning. His heart thudded in his chest, loud enough that he was sure Samuel could hear it. He finished the song and handed the guitar back to the children, who thanked him enthusiastically before running off to try again.

Samuel crouched down beside him, his grin softer now.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low but full of emotion.

Adam shook his head, his gaze fixed on the grass. “I’m not. I just… remembered a few things.”

Reaching out, Samuel brushed a stray curl from Adam’s forehead. The gesture was so casual yet so intimate that Adam’s blush deepened.

“You’re too modest, Graham,” Samuel said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Breath hitching, and for a moment, Adam didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t felt like this in so long—this vulnerable, this seen. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Thanks,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at Samuel, then quickly looked away, the intensity of his gaze too much to bear. But even as he averted his eyes, a small, shy smile crept onto his lips.

And Samuel, ever patient, stayed by his side, the warmth between them growing like the tulips blooming all around.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the floral shop's large windows, casting golden beams over the rows of tulips, roses, and lilies waiting to be arranged into beautiful bouquets. The air smelled sweet, thick with the scent of blossoms and freshly trimmed stems. Adam and Samuel worked side by side at the counter, their hands busy with ribbons, vases, and the delicate petals they handled with care.

“Well, Graham,” Samuel said, his voice lilting with mischief, “You’ve got quite the knack for this. You sure you’re not secretly a florist?”

Adam glanced at him, trying to suppress a smile. “Hardly. I’m just following your lead.”

Samuel smirked, nudging Adam’s elbow with his own. “Good answer. But I think you’re just being modest again.”

Adam rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped him. “You really love giving me a hard time, don’t you?”

“It’s my favourite pastime,” Samuel said, leaning closer as he reached for a spool of ribbon.

His shoulder brushed against Adam’s, lingering just a second too long. The touch sent a jolt through Adam, and he found himself hyper-aware of how close Samuel was—how he could feel the heat of his body even in the cool air of the shop.

They fell into an easy rhythm, assembling bouquets and chatting, their laughter filling the space. Samuel was relentless in his teasing, but it was gentle, laced with affection that Adam couldn’t help but respond to. At one point, Adam reached for a sprig of baby’s breath at the same time as Samuel, their fingers colliding.

“Careful,” Samuel murmured, his voice dropping a notch. His eyes met Adam’s, bright and teasing. “Don’t want to steal my thunder.”

“Maybe you’re the one stealing mine,” Adam countered, his voice steadier than he felt.

Samuel’s grin widened. “Touché.”

The playful banter continued, their touches growing more frequent—an accidental brush of fingers here, a nudge of hips there. Adam tried to focus on the flowers, the ribbons, anything but the growing tension between them. But Samuel made it impossible, his every movement deliberate, his every word dripping with charm.

“Graham,” Samuel said, his voice soft now, almost a purr.

Adam looked up from the bouquet he was working on, startled by the sudden shift in tone. Samuel was closer than before, his blue eyes fixed on Adam’s, a hint of something deeper swirling in their depths.

“Yes?” Adam asked, his voice catching slightly.

“You’ve got a little…” Samuel reached out, brushing a petal off Adam’s shoulder. His fingers lingered, grazing the fabric of Adam’s shirt. “There. All better.”

Adam swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as Samuel leaned in, his face inches away now. Adam’s breath hitched, his body frozen in place.

“Relax,” Samuel murmured, his voice low and teasing, but there was a tenderness in his gaze that made Adam’s heart ache.

And then Samuel kissed him.

It was soft, tentative—a gentle press of lips that sent a shockwave through Adam. His eyes widened, his body stiff as he processed what was happening. It was his first real kiss in over ten thousand centuries, and it felt as foreign as it did wonderful. He didn’t know what to do, how to react, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Samuel pulled back, a teasing smile on his lips, his blue eyes bright and searching. “Not bad for someone who’s rusty, huh?” he said, his tone light but his gaze warm. He reached up, his fingers brushing Adam’s cheek, his touch gentle and lingering.

Adam’s face burned, his heart pounding so hard he was sure Samuel could hear it.

“I—um—I…” He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, before finally managing, “Excuse me, I-I need to retire for the night.”

Without waiting for a response, Adam turned and hurried toward the door, his steps quick and uneven. He felt Samuel’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look back. The moment he was outside, he all but ran, the cool evening air doing little to cool the fire burning in his cheeks.

He reached his room and shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he tried to catch his breath. His face was hot, his heart still racing. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse. He had never felt this way before—so alive, so shaken, so… seen.

Sliding down to sit on the floor, Adam covered his face with his hands, a shy, disbelieving smile creeping onto his lips despite his embarrassment. Samuel had kissed him. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Adam let himself wonder—just for a moment—what it would feel like to kiss him back.

Adam sat alone in his room, the walls pressing in like a suffocating reminder of his isolation. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the windowsill, the evening sky outside painted in soft hues of gold and lavender. But he couldn’t appreciate the beauty. Not tonight. Not when his heart was a chaotic storm of memories and feelings he thought he had buried deep, never to be unearthed.

Samuel’s kiss had stirred something in him—something Adam hadn’t felt in centuries. But it wasn’t just the flutter of warmth in his chest or the way his skin tingled where Samuel had touched him. No, it was the torrent of pain that came rushing back, a tidal wave dragging him under.

Eden.

Lucifer.

The names themselves felt like wounds that had never healed.

Adam closed his eyes, and his mind betrayed him, pulling him back to a time when the world was new, and he was blissfully ignorant of how cruel love could be. Lucifer had been his everything—his guide, his angel, his first friend. And later, Adam realized, his first love. Back then, he hadn’t had the words to describe what he felt when Lucifer smiled at him, his blue eyes alight with mischief and a depth of kindness that seemed boundless. He didn’t understand why his heart quickened whenever Lucifer was near, or why he felt so crushed when their time together ended, even for a moment.

But he knew now.

Adam had been hopelessly, irrevocably in love with the archangel.

It had all seemed so perfect in the beginning. Lucifer had been there for him, teaching him, guiding him through the garden, showing him the wonders of creation. Adam remembered their laughter, the shared glances, the way Lucifer had teased him, calling him "innocent" with a grin that made Adam’s knees weak. It was a love he hadn’t dared to voice, not even to himself, until Lilith was created.

Lilith. His "other half," the angels had said. His destined partner. Adam remembered the confusion, the ache of betrayal when they told him he was to love her. He cared for her, yes, but his heart wasn’t hers to take—it was Lucifer’s. Always Lucifer’s. But even Lucifer had pushed him toward her, encouraging him to embrace his “destiny.”

Adam had tried. He had tried so hard to do what was expected of him, to silence the feelings clawing at his heart. But how could he, when every glance, every thought, every beat of his heart whispered Lucifer’s name?

And then… the betrayal.

He could still see them in his mind’s eye—Lucifer and Lilith together. The memory tore through him like it had happened yesterday. He had stumbled upon them, their laughter mingling in the air like a cruel mockery of everything he had dreamed. Adam’s heart had shattered into pieces so small, he wondered if it would ever be whole again.

"Why can’t I marry you?" Adam had asked Lucifer once, desperation trembling in his voice. He’d been so young, so naive, still clinging to the hope that what he felt might somehow be returned.

Lucifer had laughed, a soft, almost apologetic sound.

"You can’t," he’d said simply. "Because I’m an angel, and you’re human. It would never work."

But it had worked with Lilith. And later, Eve.

Adam shook his head, the tears stinging his eyes blurring the pastel streaks of the sunset. Lilith had been his first taste of heartbreak, but she hadn’t been the last. Eve came next, and Adam had tried to love her too, tried to be the man the angels said he was meant to be. But Lucifer had ruined that, too.

Lucifer always came back. Always took what wasn’t his to take.

Adam had run from them both, from Eden itself. But unlike before, no one had followed. No one had tried to bring him back. Not Lucifer. Not Lilith. Not Eve. It was in that deafening silence that Adam learned his place in the grand design: nowhere. He was an afterthought, a vessel for a plan he had no part in shaping.

And so he had vowed never to love again. He had built walls so high and so strong that even he believed no one could ever break them down. But then came Samuel.

Samuel, with his goofy grin and sparkling blue eyes—so different from Lucifer’s yet so similar in the way they made Adam’s heart flutter. Samuel, who teased him, who touched him, who kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He looked at Adam as if he wasn’t the first man, wasn’t the first human, wasn’t a pet or an insect. Samuel gazed at Adam…just Adam…

Adam’s chest tightened as he thought of Samuel. The way his lips had felt, soft and warm, lingering just long enough to make Adam’s breath catch. It had been the first time in eons that Adam had felt truly wanted.

But what was the point? Adam was dead—an angel of the Lord, his heart hollowed out and remade for duty, not love. Samuel was alive, vibrant, full of hope and dreams that belonged to the mortal realm. They were from different worlds, and their paths were never meant to cross. This couldn’t be anything more than a fleeting moment, a cruel reminder of everything Adam had lost and could never have again.

The thought broke him.

Pressing a hand to his chest, willing the ache to subside, but it only deepened. Adam had been so certain he could go through eternity without needing anyone, without wanting anyone. But now… now he wasn’t so sure. Samuel had slipped past his defences with ease, and Adam didn’t know how to stop him.

“I can’t do this,” Adam whispered to the empty room, his voice trembling.

But even as he said it, a small, traitorous part of him wondered—what if he could? What if, just this once, he let himself fall?

He was scared. So scared to fall again. After Lucifer…Adam never wanted to feel that way again.

Adam sat on the edge of his bed, the room dimly lit by the flickering glow of a single candle on the windowsill. The tulip fields that had earlier brought him so much joy now felt like a distant memory. His thoughts swirled, a storm of past regrets and present confusion. He traced his fingers along the edge of the blanket, trying to focus on the soft texture instead of the ache in his chest.

The kiss. Samuel’s kiss. It had unearthed feelings Adam hadn’t allowed himself to feel for eons, and now they were unravelling him. He had locked himself away to escape them, but they lingered, like shadows clinging to the corners of the room. He tried to bury his emotions under the weight of old wounds, but Samuel’s face, his bright eyes and gentle touch, kept flashing in his mind.

Then, a knock at the door startled him. Adam froze, his heart leaping to his throat. He considered ignoring it, but after a second knock, softer this time, curiosity and a flicker of hope got the better of him. Rising from the bed, he approached the door hesitantly, his fingers hovering over the handle before he finally opened it.

There stood Samuel, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He was holding a small bouquet of tulips in his hands, their colours a soft blend of pink and white, like a whisper of spring.

“Hi,” Samuel said quietly, offering the flowers with a sheepish smile. “I, uh… I’m sorry if I came on too strong earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Face flushing as Adam accepted the bouquet, his fingers brushing Samuel’s briefly. The warmth of the touch sent a shiver down his spine. “You didn’t… scare me,” Adam said softly, looking down at the tulips. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Samuel added, scratching the back of his neck. “And maybe… talk? If you’re up for it?”

Adam hesitated, glancing at the tulips again before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Samuel entered cautiously; his usual confidence subdued. Adam placed the flowers gently on the small table by the window, arranging them absentmindedly before sitting back down on the bed. Samuel settled in the chair opposite him, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Samuel began again, his voice soft. “I didn’t realize you were carrying so much… stuff.”

Adam chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. I’ve just… had a harsh past with love and emotions. Relationships haven’t exactly been kind to me.”

Gaze softening, Samuel’s head tilting slightly. “A bad breakup?”

Laughing, though the sound was hollow. Adam grimaced painfully. “Not even a breakup. More like… a first love that turned sour.”

Leaning back, a flicker of curiosity crossing Samuel’s face. “A first love?”

Gaze fixed on the tulips; Adam smiled softly. When he spoke, his voice was distant, filled with a quiet pain. “There was someone in my life once. We were best friends—always together, attached at the hip. I… I loved him. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Samuel stayed silent, his blue eyes locked on Adam, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t know it at the time,” Adam continued, his voice trembling slightly, “but I was in love with him. He was everything to me. I thought he held the sun and moon in his hands just for me. But…” Adam’s breath hitched, and he looked down at his lap. “I wasn’t enough for him.”

Jaw tightening, Samuel’s lips pressing into a thin line as Adam spoke.

“I was told I had to marry someone else,” Adam said, his voice growing quieter. “But how could I? My heart wasn’t mine to give—it was his. Still, I tried. I tried to be what everyone wanted me to be. And then… he chose her. He picked her over me. My friend—my best friend—said I wasn’t worth the trouble. But she was.”

Adam exhaled shakily, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “And it didn’t stop there. I was told to marry another woman, and he… he went after her too. It was like I was just some obstacle in his way. Someone to be discarded when I was no longer convenient.”

Swallowing hard, Samuel’s blue eyes glistening. “Your friend… doesn’t sound like much of a friend…”

Adam gave a pitiful smile. “In the end, I don’t think he ever really was. I think… I think I was just something to keep him entertained. Like a pet.”

Samuel opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, biting his lip. He looked at Adam with a mixture of sorrow and anger, his hands clenching into fists before relaxing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Laughing softly, Adam shook his head. “Why are you apologizing? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Samuel sniffed, shifting in his seat as he wiped at his eyes. “It’s just… it’s not fair. You deserve everything, Adam.”

Heart skipping a beat as Samuel reached out, his fingers brushing against Adam’s cheek. The touch was light, reverent, as if Samuel were afraid Adam might break under his hand.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Samuel said, his voice trembling. “Your friend… he ruined everything for you, didn’t he? He turned love and relationships into something… painful.”

Adam looked down, shrugging shyly. “It was so long ago. I try not to see him if I can help it.”

Leaning closer, Samuel’s gaze unwavering. “You deserve so much more. You deserve someone who’ll fight for you. Someone who sees you for the incredible person you are.”

Breath hitching, Adam’s cheeks burning as he looked away. But Samuel’s hand remained on his cheek, grounding him, offering a comfort he hadn’t felt in centuries. And for the first time in eons, Adam wondered if it was possible to open his heart again.

“Please Graham…” Samuel whispered tenderly. He inched even closer to him, pressing his body against Adam’s. “Please Graham, let me show you how good it can me…”

Gulping, Adam’s body prickled with tingles all over his skin. Adam’s breath hitched as Samuel inched closer to him, he could feel Samuel’s body warmth spreading all over. Their hips pressed together, the intense look in Samuel’s blue eyes deepen as he rolled his hips, making Adam gasp.

“Please…” he whispered, pressing his lips to Adam’s. “Please…Adam…”

Inching forward, Adam meet’s Samuel halfway. Their lips touched, pushing together in a deep kiss. Adam sighed deeply, his heart fluttering even more as Samuel immediately began to rock his hips against Adam. He hooked a hand under Adam’s thigh, pulling it over his hip.

Hands pulled at clothes, the heat increasing within the room. They moved from the windowsill to the bed. They fell onto the blankets and quilts, beginning to touch one another in a way that Adam had never experienced before.

“S-Samuel.” Adam gasped.

The other froze for a second. Tensing up for just a few seconds before he relaxed again, running his hot mouth further down Adam’s chest. His lips touching Adam’s nipples, he licks and sucks on the soft flesh. The intensity of his blue eyes made Adam feel shy. He wanted to hide himself; to roll over but Samuel wouldn’t let him.

Adam let out another crying moan as Samuel travelled further down.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think of another man again,” Samuel growled possessively. He bites down on Adam’s thigh, marking him as his. “You’re mine, aren’t you Adam? You belong to me, don’t you?”

Rolling his head back, Adam whimpered and whined, “Yes. God yes, Samuel.”

“Good boy.”

The night had been an intoxicating blend of passion and vulnerability, leaving Adam reeling in sensations he hadn’t felt in millennia. As morning’s golden light spilled into the room, it illuminated the tulips resting on the bedside table, their vibrant hues glowing like tiny flames. Adam stirred first, his body both achingly sore and delightfully alive, a testament to the connection he had shared with Samuel.

A soft, contented groan escaped his lips as he blinked against the sunlight, his mind sluggishly catching up to his surroundings. Turning his head, he found Samuel beside him, deeply asleep, his features softened in repose. The quilt barely covered their entwined forms, and the room bore the chaotic evidence of their passion—clothes scattered like fallen leaves, shoes toppled, a chair askew.

Adam's breath hitched. He hadn't done this—felt this—in over ten thousand years. He let out a quiet laugh, equal parts disbelieving and giddy. This was so unlike him, so reckless, yet... so right. Eve had never made his heart race like this, never set his body alight with warmth and longing. But Samuel? Samuel made him feel like he was touching the divine again, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Shifting onto his side, Adam traced Samuel’s face with his eyes, his chest swelling with something he didn’t dare name. His fingers found their way to Samuel’s hair, threading through the soft strands. He twirled a lock between his fingers, noticing its shimmer in the sunlight. A curious frown tugged at his lips. Samuel’s hair had seemed more strawberry blonde before… hadn’t it? He shrugged the thought away, lowering his head onto the pillow as he inched closer, eager to snuggle against the man who had reignited his dormant heart.

But then he froze.

His mind reeled as fragments of the previous night flooded back. Samuel had called him Adam. Not Graham, the alias he’d carefully maintained since coming to Earth. No, Adam. Panic flared in his chest. How could Samuel have known? He couldn’t have.

Tentatively, Adam brushed Samuel’s hair back, his fingers trembling as they revealed a red mark on Samuel’s cheek—bright and unnatural, glowing faintly like a cherry ember. His heart began to pound violently. He stared at the mark, his breath coming in shallow gasps. No. No. No. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be.

Stirring, a soft hum breaking the silence as Lucifer stretched lazily, his muscles rippling beneath the quilt. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and Adam’s heart leapt into his throat. Samuel tilted his head, offering a warm, sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and honeyed.

Adam couldn’t respond. His throat tightened as he stared into eyes that weren’t blue anymore but a swirling, unnerving mix of red and gold. His body went cold as he realized the nose that had once given Samuel’s face its charming profile was now… gone. Just smooth skin where it had once been.

Samuel’s—no, Lucifer’s—smile widened as he cocked his head. “Adam? Are you alright?”

Adam’s body locked up. His mind screamed in denial, but he couldn’t form words. Lucifer reached for him, his touch feather light as he cupped Adam’s cheek.

“Was I too rough last night?” Lucifer teased, leaning in for a kiss. “You seem shaken—”

The realization slammed into Adam like a tidal wave, nearly drowning him. Samuel wasn’t Samuel. Samuel was Lucifer.

He’d spent the night tangled in bed with the one being who had caused him the most pain, the most heartbreak, in his existence. This wasn’t a rekindled connection; this was another manipulation, another cruel game in Lucifer’s endless repertoire.

“No!” Adam choked, shoving Lucifer away. Scrambling backward, he tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a sharp thud. His vision swam, and his chest heaved with panicked breaths.

Gasping, Lucifer sat up abruptly. “Adam—”

“I mean, Graham—are you okay?” His brows knitted together as he knelt at Adam’s side, his concern almost convincing. “You hit your head,” he murmured, reaching for Adam’s face. “Let me—”

“Don’t touch me!” Adam slapped his hand away, his voice trembling with fury and fear. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his discarded clothing in frantic handfuls. His mind raced, a cacophony of disbelief and betrayal threatening to overwhelm him.

Lucifer frowned, his golden eyes widening in what looked like genuine confusion. “Graham, what’s wrong? Did I—did I do something? Last night, I thought—”

“Last night was a lie!” Adam hissed, yanking on his clothes. He could barely breathe, his hands shaking violently as he buttoned his shirt. “You—you deceived me. Again! Samuel, or should I say Lucifer!”

Standing slowly, Lucifer’s bare form almost radiant in the sunlight, but Adam refused to look at him.

“I didn’t—Adam, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Lucifer said softly. “Please, let me—”

“Don’t call me that!” Adam shouted, his voice breaking as tears spilled from his eyes. “You don’t get to say my name. You don’t get to… to be here.”

Lucifer’s face fell, the mask of cocky confidence he so often wore slipping away. For a moment, he looked small. Vulnerable.

“Adam,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “I’m not your enemy—”

But Adam was already gone, bolting from the room as his sobs tore through the quiet morning air. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back, even as Lucifer’s voice echoed after him.

“Adam, wait!”

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

want me

leon kennedy x reader

2K words

summary : you're given a vaccine to cure you of the man-made virus you're infected with- but no one told you it would be painful, or that it would cause an old crush to surface. as your thoughts clear, you realise that leon kennedy is right next door, so you may as well, right?

warnings : lots of swearing, mentions of nsfw (just jokes, no actual smut), one vaguely gory description at the beginning ? potential for some actually REALLY heavy making out and like. hands under the shirt (no boobs tho soz)

no use of Y/N, gn reader, no spoilers for any of the games, no set time when this is supposed to be set. again kinda short but idk what yalls standards are for fic lengths

A/N : no picture for this one bcs my tumblr fucks up the quality of EVERYTHING. also for u lot to picture whichever leon u want <3

Pain is nothing new to me. 

I’ve been thrown off buildings and out of cars, drowned, strangled, smacked, shot, punched, kicked, bitten- the works, really. I know what it feels like to hurt; when your insides twist and turn and burn as if begging you to just die, relieve the pain a little. 

But this? 

Oh, this is a whole new kind of pain. I know it’s not normal. Some fucker put a man-made virus in me; doctors had to give me a vaccine, because my life was on the line, et cetera, et cetera. But what they didn’t tell me was that the bioweapon living in me would fight, claw, and scream; that it would not go down easily, like I hoped it would. 

I can hardly breathe, curled into a ball on a cot in an empty hospital room. My throat is burning, my heart thumping violently in my chest. I am Prometheus; an eagle standing over me, tearing out my liver, letting the blood drip onto my face as it chews. I feel the dread of regeneration; the knowledge that as soon as the eagle is finished, it will tear back into my belly, cawing happily. I see it, for a moment, as I dance in and out of reality; only the eagle has bright golden eyes and there is so much blood. 

I feel like I’ve been bent over and fucked raw with a sword made of fire. 

I sob and scream into my hand; the doctors have given me painkillers, but they’re doing shit fuck all for the pain. I swim in and out of consciousness for hours, my vision blurry, everything around me muffled. I can’t tell if they’ve actually left me alone, or if I’m just losing my mind. 

Occasionally, people enter the room. I think they talk to me, but I can’t tell over the sound of my own crying and the shapes, silhouettes dancing around me. At some point, someone touches my forehead, as if to check my temperature. Groggily, I think, this isn’t a fever, shitbag. Ever the eloquent one, me, especially when in excruciating pain. 

Finally, it dulls, and I manage to move without wanting to pull out my eyeballs. It’s nothing special, only a turn of my head, a flutter of my eyelids as I try to open my eyes. 

There’s someone in the chair next to my cot. At first, I hallucinate- the shape slumped there goes from being my mum, to my sister, to my uncle, to my supervisor (which is the weirdest of them all, because he’s the only one I’ve talked to in the last decade). But finally, it shifts to something more solid, something real. 

My heartbeat picks up significantly, which the monitor I seem to be hooked up to decides to broadcast. I sit up, and the pain courses through me again. The shape seems to look up, and I recognise blond hair, blue eyes, a bruise on the cheekbone as my vision clears. 

“Leon,” I say. It comes out as more of a grunt, my tongue heavy and sandpapery in my mouth. I feel like I’ve downed fifteen shots of the strongest alcohol known to man and hit by a car. I try again. “Leon.” It comes out clearer this time. 

He reaches out, grabs onto my hand and squeezes. I try to squeeze back but nothing happens except for another not enjoyable shot of pain. 

“Careful,” he says, his hand moving up to my wrist. He’s checking my pulse, I realised. Why? The machine is practically flatlining, with how fast my heart is beating. 

Oh. That’s why he’s checking my pulse. 

“Leon,” I say, and it finally comes out right. I grin, and am filled suddenly with a wave of happiness. My heart jumps into my chest and I’m struggling to breathe as I gaze at him. I don’t know what I must look like to him right now, but I do know that he’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. 

“I’m here,” he reassures me. His other hand comes up to gently touch my face, the pads of his fingers brushing over my cheekbones, my eyebrow, my nose. He stops before they reach my mouth (if I wasn’t in this much pain, I would have grabbed his hand, pulled him back) but I think I see him hesitate. 

Is it the pain meds that are making my stomach flutter, the tips of my fingers tingle? 

I open my mouth and nothing comes out. What is there to say? 

His eyes are so, so blue. I hadn’t quite realised until now, now that he’s so close. 

“Y’pretty,” I slur out, and I grin. The pain in my limbs is slowly dulling, and I somehow push myself up on my elbows. Leon immediately puts a hand to the back of my neck, supporting me as I sit up. And his skin is warm, and I am feeling warm in all kinds of places, and I don’t know if it’s the pain meds or my beating heart or the virus currently being wrestled out of my body, but before he can even breathe in to answer, I open my mouth again. 

“So pretty,” I say. My words are clearer, but my vision is dancing between blurred and clear. His brows are furrowed, and I lift my arm, ignore the pain to trace the lines of his face. They seem to shine gold and silver in the soft light of the hospital room. 

He says my name, almost like a prayer falling from his lips. He breathes it out, taking my wrist and gently moving it away from his face. I feel a little drunk, but at least the pain is numbed slightly. 

“You’re-“

“No.” I shush him, shaking my head. “I’m nothing.” My words are mixed up, coming out all jumbled and wrong. That’s him, making me feel that way, I try to convince myself. 

He stands, clears his throat. Goes to the door; I think he calls the doctor, but I’m too far away to hear, dancing in some strange minds cape again. Colours flow around me, like liquid sunlight. I reach out and try to catch some in my hand. 

It takes what feels like a thousand years for the doctors to clear me to go home. I have to be helped into a wheelchair by nurses, and it’s Leon (sweet, beautiful, lovely Leon) who pushes me out, into someone’s car (not his, I hope, because I smell terrible). It’s Leon who drives me home, a quiet song on the radio, checking every few seconds to make sure I haven’t passed out. 

I am able to stand by the time we get to my place. I wonder briefly how he knows my address, then remember that time he came over, years ago. Did he find the text I sent him? Or does he have it memorised? I watch his face, entranced. 

He opens the door, helps me out of the car. Keeps his arm around my waist, supporting what feels like my full weight. He pulls keys- my keys, I realise when I recognise the tacky keyring hanging off them- from his pocket, inserts them in the lock. I refuse to let him carry me up the stairs, although he insists and insists. His arm stays tight around me, muttering very quiet encouragements to me as we go. I almost collapse in relief when I see my front door, still painted atrociously yellow. I should change that, I think. 

He gets me into my apartment, and I am finally able to stand without help (although I stumble a little, and my head spins every time I move). He offers to leave, but I gulp down whatever feeling is rising in my gut, let out a muttered “stay,” give him my best puppy eyes. He agrees without hesitation, asking me if I need anything. 

“‘M gonna- gonna run a bath,” I garble very attractively. He nods, sits on the couch that doubles as my bed (studio appartments, amirite?) and waits, so pretty. 

I shut the bathroom door- don’t lock it, though- and sit on the lip of the bath, watching the water running. My thoughts are beginning to clear, the pain now just a dull throb in the background rather than an overwhelming burning in my throat. I swallow it as I dip my fingers in the water, trying to blink the fog out of my eyes.

“You okay in there?” Leon calls. I look up, and the painkiller fuelled what-the-fuck-ever takes control once more. 

“Yeah,” I say, my voice slightly strangled. The last thing I need right now is a distraction. I need a bath, normal clothes, I need his hands on me and his mouth on mine- 

I check that the bath is full enough, and dunk my entire head under. 

God, what is wrong with me? I’ve always had less than appropriate feelings about Leon, sure, but in a coworker/friends way, not in a dirty thoughts in the bathroom way. 

Unfortunately, these thoughts remain when I come back up- my hair is just soaking wet now, and my eyes sting a little. 

“Fuckin’ stupid,” I mutter to myself. I don’t reach for a towel; instead I sit on the lip of the bathtub, staring into the water, dripping onto my trousers. Y’know, like a loser. 

I start to take my shirt off, then stop. The simple movement makes my ribs feel like they’re being torn out and used to stab me repeatedly; I stop and immediately lower my arms, groaning. 

Fuck. 

I get up, and manage to hobble to the door. Open it- luckily I don’t have to fumble with the lock. 

“Leon,” I say, and he’s on his feet in half a second, in front of me in the second half. I reach out and he grabs onto my waist, steadying me as I sway back and forth. 

“I don’t wanna bath,” I say, my words jumbling together. I reach up, cup his face in one hand. “Want- want you.” 

He hesitates, almost moving away from me. His throat bobs, his eyes narrow and widen; there’s a tic in his jaw, which I smooth down with my thumb. 

He says my name, and I shake my head. 

“I feel fine,” I say, and thank god my words are clearer. “Do you?” 

Almost involuntarily, it seems, he pulls me a little closer. I touch my forehead to his, my pulse racing. I can feel his too, I realise when I shift my fingers. It’s racing just as fast as mine. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, “this isn’t- I’m not. But you’re… I…” I shake my head. I hope he understands what I’m saying, because I certainly fuckin’ don’t. “Want to kiss you.” He seems so nervous, bless him; maybe unsure of how willing I am to really kiss him, if it’s just the painkillers talking. I nudge forwards with my nose, and he kisses me. 

As soon as his lips meet mine, my legs buckle. He catches me, supporting me fully without breaking the kiss. Fireworks erupt in my chest; if someone were to set me on fire, I would hardly notice- the feeling in my chest, in my throat, is enough to drown out any pain the painkillers might have neglected. 

I stumble into him, and he holds on, his mouth not leaving mine for a millisecond. I thread my fingers through his hair, press the other to his neck, fumbling for his pulse. His heart is beating almost as fast as mine. 

“Leon,” I mumble into the tiny space that opens between us when he pulls away for air. His eyes open and worry fills them. 

“Are you-“ 

“‘M fine,” I quickly say. My speech is almost back to normal. “Just- wanted to say it.” He smiles, for the first time since I woke up, I think blearily, and kisses me again. My back hits the wall, and he pulls me away slightly, a hand at the small of my back. I grin against his mouth, teeth lightly bumping into his. We both laugh and I take the opportunity to kiss the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, down to his collarbone. He’s still holding me up, and I like it- like not having to support myself. Any thought of pain is gone for my mind as he tilts his head to the side, allowing me better access to his bare neck. God, we’re both such sluts. I lift my head again, and he kisses me, as hungry as I am, I realise. It’s messy, and my hands are all over the place, but he is kissing me in a way that is making me vaguely lightheaded, and he has a hand at the back of my neck, and now he’s the one with his mouth on my throat, whispering what feels like prayers into my skin. It’s no longer the pain that’s making my legs weak. I sigh, then gasp when he presses a long kiss to the dip in my collarbone. He looks at me, and I thread a hand through his hair again. “Shirt,” I say, not politely, despite my little smile. He’s smiling too, and he kisses me as I work at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards so I can press my hands to his bare back, feel his hot skin. He shudders lightly, and I feel his mouth in the crook of my neck, whispering things to me that I wish I could hear. His own hands go under my shirt, resting on my bare waist. His thumb brushes an old scar, hovers there; I feel the question in the touch, and wrap my arms around his neck. 

“Gun,” I murmur into his neck. “Five years ago. Fucked up an op.” He doesn’t respond, but he finds every scar on my back and stomach, and I tell him about every single one, pressing soft kisses to his neck as he searches my skin. The way he makes me feel- the attention he gives me, the gently touch of his fingers, as if I’m something holy- it should be illegal. He kisses me when he finds the last scar, and I kiss him back, and fuck, how’s he got my shirt off? The garment is discarded onto the floor. And I keep kissing him, and he keeps kissing me. I manage to tug off his shirt as well, and of course I know where this is going, and god, I am not going to fight it. 

His hand goes back to my hips, and he pulls away, examines me. Just- just looks at my face, traces the lines of it with his blue blue eyes. I tilt my head at him, and he can’t seem to resist pressing an open mouthed kiss above my pulse, whispering something that sounds like beautiful into my skin. I lean into him, letting out a soft sigh; once again, he moves down, to my collarbone, to the now exposed skin of my shoulders. He takes my hand, kisses my wrist. I feel like I’m being worshipped (although, if I were a god, I wouldn’t want people making out with my statue). 

“Fuck,” I murmur, tightening my grip on the back of his neck. He’s so gentle, and yet… I tip my head back. 

This better be a long night.