#there were a lot of us still there at 5:30

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 7 - Well This Is Awkward

CW: Angst, mention's of alcohol, mentions of panic attack's, mental health, mentions of injuries, mentions of death.

Did I mention I like medical dramas?

Previous parts - masterlist - next

Your therapist is nice. You’ve been going to her for the past 3 months, you were only supposed to go for a single session. Then the army insisted on more. Johnny was sent home on medical leave a few days after you left. He came to see you and stayed the night. 

The next morning you had to tell him to leave, it just wasn’t the same. 

‘I’ll be staying at the house if you want to visit?’ 

Shit, you forgot about the house. The place you all pitched in to buy, so you all had somewhere to stay when you were on leave. Everyone’s flats are too small to accommodate all 5 of you. Besides, flat hopping everyday across London was expensive. 

‘I’ll talk to John when he’s back.’ All you want back is the deposit. 

“Do you feel guilty?” She asks you. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at her. 

“No.” You say, she hums. You hate it when she does that. You don’t know why it is a particularly tough session. You just want to go home. “They hurt me. I don't feel guilty about that.” 

“You left the unit though.” Bitch. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that.” 

“Okay fine. I feel guilty about leaving Johnny and Kyle.” You snap back. Anything to get her to sign you off so you can go. You look up at the clock, you still have at least 40 minutes left in this season. 

“Have you got your letter from the university yet?” She asks changing the subject. You nod. After a few weeks of crying on the bathroom floor and drowning yourself in bottles of vodka you decided to get your shit together. 

“That’s good, what's the plan going forward?” 

“I’ll be posted on a base somewhere where I can get hands-on experience in trauma care. With studying on the side.” You say without going too much into the complications. 

“So the army is actively helping you, that's good.”  

“Yeah I think they’re willing to do anything so long as I don’t sue them.” You scoff under your breath. She hums.

You don’t know how true that is, maybe it’s just something you tell yourself so you don’t feel so conflicted over how accommodating they’ve been. They’re paying your uni bills and even got you one some army teaching program aimed to fast track you through the ranks. 

“What about Kyle and Johnny? Have you heard from them since you spoke to them last?” Fucking bitch. You sigh, turning away from her. The last time you spoke to them was almost a month ago. They text you from time to time, try to call you. 

You’ve ignored them, so much that you feel like anything you say to them will just be meaningless. 

“Yeah, they’re deployed.” You lie. She smiles. You look back up at the clock. 

30 minutes to go.

______________________

Iraq is hot. That you expected but the hospital’s electricity is sketchy at best. You have to keep the air-con off to make sure the ventilators don’t cut out. The US built this place, you’re only supposed to be here for another week at least before you’ll move again. 

As soon as the electric is fixed it will be handed over to the UN to run, until then it was getting a dry run as a combat hospital. Lots of blown off limbs and bullets to pull out people. Lots of death. 

You told Johnny and Kyle where you were going when you got your placement. You’re trying to patch things up with them after basically leaving them on read for almost 3 months. Your therapist said it would be a good thing to do. 

The sun is setting, you're sitting outside watching as it touches the top of the distant mountains. The place is busy, friendly forces are still pretty much living here. It’s the only safe zone in this part of the desert, why the UN wanted a hospital out here you’ll never know. 

Something about re-urbanisation of previously controlled territories. You don’t care, you're here to pull bullets out of people and save lives. Other than your mentor-Dr. Sands-you’re the only other doctor on the base. Doctor is a loose term, you’re technically still a student, but you ace all your skills labs, and the army is begging for help apparently. 

You let out a breath, finishing the rest of your drink and getting up and pulling your white lab coat on. 

“Well, fancy seeing you ‘ere.” You hear a familiar thick accent behind you. You turn to see Johnny standing behind you. 

What the fuck.

You’re hugging him before you can stop yourself. You see Kyle, John and Simon stood behind him. They’re all geared up, weapons slung over their chest or back. 

You thought you would feel something when you saw them. Maybe you'd want to run, scream, cry, anything. You feel nothing, just numbness.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Oh you know, Shepherd says jump, we say how high.” he says nudging you, it makes you smile and you shake your head. 

“Finally going for the MD?” He asks, pointing at the student doctor tag on your coat. 

“Yeah well, you like putting bullets in people. I like pulling them out.” 

“Oh yeah not even the occasional love tap?” He jokes, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Only the bad guys.” You reply. You look up at Kyle who’s smiling. Then John and Simon. 

“You look good.” John says. 

“Yeah well that’s what 6 months of therapy will do to you.” It’s bitter, harsher than you expected it to be. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him in 6 maybe 7 months. He hasn’t changed a bit. He still smiles at you, his body language open, his hands on his hips. 

Simon stands with his arms crossed, his presence is looming, making hairs stand up on the back of your neck. 

“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle says, you nod at him. 

“Oh when we’re back we should catch a bite to eat.” Johnny says enthusiastically, moving away over to Kyle. 

“You can tell us what to avoid in the mess.” Kyle adds. You smile again. You go to open your mouth but your pager beeps. You look down at it. It’s the doctor. 

“Yeah, when you’re back, come find me.” You say turning into the building. 

“Stay safe!” Johnny calls.

“Yeah you too!” You call back pulling your radio off your hip. When you make it through the door you squeeze your eyes closed for a second and let out a long breath. 

Now you hate this hospital even more. 

______________________

It’s dark out now. You look over at the clock and it's almost midnight. You’re sat at the nurses station listening to them talk about whatever drama is going on in the next base. You still can’t believe you ended up in the same base as 141. 

They’ll be gone soon, even Johnny seemed surprised, maybe he thought you’d be gone by now. Now you have to eat with them at some point. Johnny and Kyle at least.

The doctor left an hour ago to go to another base for a surgery. You’re used to this taking the night shifts. Normally you just sleep and get woken up a few times for the nurses to ask for medication changes. You’ve only ever had one trauma come in at night and the doctor was there to help you with the limited night time staff. 

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, you were restless trying to think about what they were doing here? Who were they after? How long would they be here? At least at the nurses station you can listen to the nurses and let their gossip distract you. 

The red trauma phone rings. For a second you think it’s a joke, it’s the normal phone. Nope, the red light is flashing on it. You stand up picking it up. 

“Trauma.” You say.

“Got one incoming, ETA 15 minutes. GSW to the chest, breathing unconscious. 30 year old male.” You hear an American voice say as you write it down. You don’t have time to worry or be nervous. This is what you live for, you let the adrenaline pump through you. It clears your mind as you take down the information. 

“Copy, what’s the name?” 

“Riley.” Your heart stops.

“Say again?”

“Riley, Simon Riley.”  

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You’re squeezing the phone in your hand, the pen has fallen to the floor. You look over at the nurses already pulling gowns on and getting into position in the resus bay. 

You don’t even register saying copy and putting the phone back. You turn away from the nurses braising yourself on a filing cabernet. 

Simon’s shot. All you can see is his face, his body covered in blood. He’s always so careful, he’s always the one dragging people out the field not getting shot. Something must have gone horribly wrong. 

You weren't there. He’s shot and you weren't there to save him. 

You suck in breaths of air, the adrenaline isn’t helping now. 

“Doctor?” You hear one of the nurses call. You turn to look at them, you have to keep it together. 

“Page the doctor.”

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[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ TEASE ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…chris teaches you a lesson for teasing him all day.

based on this

cw: SMUT, unprotected p in v, use of pet names, degrading, oral (m receiving), not proofread LMAO, choking, spanking, teasing, lowk cringe

THE PHOTOS LINKED ARE JUST FOR BETTER UNDERSTANDING! THEY DO NOT REPRESENT YOU AS THE READER! :)

all day.

it’d been all day that you’d been torturing poor chris. the texts, photos…all of it. and you knew exactly what you were doing. you loved knowing you were getting him all hot and bothered while he was out doing important things. you got a rush of confidence out of it.

it all started at around 11 this morning. you’d sent him a text, along with an image. last night, you two had fucked, and of course he left his signature bruises on your neck and collarbone. so, why not tease him with a photo of that?

you

miss u. a lot.

attachment: 1 image

u marked me up so good last night baby

chris💗

i miss you too angel

i should be home around 5

definitely wasn’t the reaction you’d expected. he was too…chill. you’d figured you go ahead and bump it up a notch. so, then, at around 1:30, you got into position on your bed, only wearing a shirt and underwear, and snapped a photo before sending another daunting message. and you were bold with it.

you

wish u were here to fuck me til im crying :(

attachment: 1 image

chris💗

baby stop.

i’m about to go into a meeting and i’m fucking bricked. watch yourself. im serious. drop the lil teasing act or im gonna fuck it out of you

finally, he was showing something of a reaction. and you meant every word. so finally, at around 4:30, when he was soon to be home, you set up for the final message. you put on chris’ favorite red set and sat on the couch in front of the mirror, snapping another photo. surely, this’d get him going.

you

i’m waiting for u baby

attachment: 1 image

too bad ur all talk :(

chris💗

you say that.

i’ll be home in 5.

oh shit. okay, now, you were definitely feeling a little nervous. usually, teasing him like that got you a little confidence boost. but now? now was different. like you were waiting for your impending doom. but…maybe there was a little confidence left in you.

you heard the door slam and giggled to yourself, knowing you had gotten under his skin. sitting on the couch, you pretended to be engrossed in something on your phone, your heart racing with anticipation. chris' heavy footsteps approached, and you could feel his anger radiating from him. he stood before you, his frame blocking your view of anything else.

“you’ve been a naughty girl today, haven't you?" he growled, his voice deep and menacing.

you looked up at him, feigning innocence, but the mischievous glint in your eyes gave you away. "maybe a little," you replied, biting your lip. yeah, some of that confidence was still lingering.

but it was quickly lost when, with lightning speed, chris grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from the couch. you let out a startled gasp as he roughly spun you around, pressing your body against the armrest. the sudden dominance took your breath away, and you felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear.

"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?" he whispered harshly into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "you’ve been a very bad girl, hm? and bad girls get punished, don’t they?”

before you could respond, chris’ hand firmly gripped your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you aware of his strength. your eyes widened, and you struggled to breathe, but the sensation of his rough fingers against your skin sent a surge of pleasure through your body.

you whimpered softly, torn between fear and arousal. just the way the both of you liked.

“please...chris..." you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

“oh, you want me to stop?" he mocked, tightening his grip slightly. "you’ve been begging for this all day, haven't you? teasing me, making me hard as a rock, and then leaving me hanging."

you nodded, unable to speak, as his other hand reached down and grabbed your ass, squeezing it possessively. he ground his bulging erection against your ass, making his intentions clear.

"you like it when i get mean, don't you, you little slut?" he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear.

you whimpered again, unable to deny the truth. chris knew exactly how to push your buttons, and your body betrayed your submissive nature. he released your throat, leaving you gasping for air, and forcefully ripped off the bottom half of your lacy red set, exposing your bare ass.

“bend over the couch," he commanded, his voice filled with authority.

trembling, you obeyed, resting your upper body on the soft cushions. chris wasted no time, adjusting your hips and revealing your wet pussy, glistening with anticipation. he admired his work, smirking at the sight of your arousal.

"fucking soaked…pathetic." he teased, running his fingers along your slit.

you whimpered in response, your face flushing with embarrassment. chris’ fingers probed your entrance, teasing you, but not entering. he wanted to drive you wild with need.

“please, chris," you begged, your voice trembling. "i need you inside me."

"not yet," he growled, slapping your ass with an open palm, leaving a stinging sensation. "you’ve been a little fuckin’ tease, and y’need to be taught a lesson.”

chris delivered another sharp smack, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. he continued to spank you, each strike leaving a warm glow on your ass.

you squirmed, trying to escape the stinging pain, but chris held you firmly in place. “you like that, don't you, you dirty girl?" he taunted, his voice thick with desire. "you love it when i mark your pretty ass."

you could barely form words, your mind clouded with lust and shame. chris’ hand reached between your legs, his fingers replacing the sting of his palm with a different kind of heat. he rubbed your clit, making you moan and squirm.

"please, let me cum," you begged, your voice desperate. you were embarrassed as shit. on the brink of an orgasm from simply his words, spanking you, and him measly rubbing your clit? if that doesn’t scream to him what he does to you, then you don’t know what will.

“not yet," he repeated. "i haven't even started fucking you yet. and when I do, i’m gonna keep goin’ until you’re beggin’ even more. that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? after fuckin’ teasing me all day?"

the explicit words sent a jolt of excitement through your body. chris fingers worked their magic, bringing you to the brink of orgasm, only to pull away at the last moment. you whined in frustration, craving release.

"please, chris, i-i can't take it anymore," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"that’s what you get for teasing me," he said, his voice softening slightly. "but i’m not done with you yet. i want you to remember this lesson every time you feel me inside you."

chris positioned himself behind you, his hard length pressing against your entrance.

you could feel his cock, throbbing with desire, as he slowly pushed into you, filling you inch by inch. you whinily moaned, your body welcoming the invasion, as he began to thrust, his movements slow and deliberate.

"y’feel so fucking good," he grunted, his voice strained. "y’know i’m gonna make you wait, baby. I want you to beg for it. you—shit—fuckin’ humiliated me while i was in a meeting—makin’ me rock fuckin’ hard. so i think it’s your turn to be embarrassed, don’t you?”

chris’ words sent a shiver through you, and you knew he was going to take his time, pushing your limits. the pleasure was almost unbearable, and you struggled to hold back your orgasm, knowing he wanted to control your release.

"oh fuck," you cried out, your body on fire, every nerve alight with pleasure.

chris leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "you like it like this, don't you?" he grunted between thrusts. "fuck—you like bein’ embarrassed like the whore you are?”

you could only nod, your words lost in the moans and cries of pleasure as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. his hands gripped your hips tightly, leaving marks on your skin, but you didn't care. the pain only added to the intensity of the pleasure.

“you’re mine," he growled, his voice raw. “my little—mmh—slut.”

"please, chris, let me cum," you begged, your voice desperate.

he reached around, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in firm circles. "cum for me, baby," he ordered, his voice harsh.

your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you cried out, your pussy clenching around his cock. chris grunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he too approached his climax.

“that’s it, that’s m’girl, take it all," he grunted, his hips slamming into you one final time as he emptied himself deep inside you.

as your breathing slowed, chris withdrew, leaving you feeling empty and satisfied all at once. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his, both of you panting, the air thick with the scent of sex.

"that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is what happens when you tease me, baby. but i think you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

you smiled, your cheeks flushed, knowing full well that you had.

maybe now you had your plans for tomorrow all sorted out for while chris was out working.

a/n: hello hellooo! this kinda sucked IDK WHY MY WRITING IS SO LIKE CRINGY but oh well! hope you enjoyed anyway

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

[sugarverse]

Synop: you and armin have to host the new years eve party this year, how fun could that be? (armin x black reader)

Word count 4k

Mentions of sex, but still a fluff/crack fic. the part 2 is at the bottom lmfao

sug says: ts is so silly LMFAO, if you’re trapped at a NYE party you don’t to be at, heres a good read!!

Why the fuck was it even an option to pick your house to throw the party?? You hated people. Even more so, you hated hearing drunk Eren cry to Mikasa about how sorry he is for the 8th fuck up of the week. Or Connie and Sasha scream singing Not Like Us since it came out as soon as any sort of liquor touched their lips. Or Annie's ass acting like her and Bert are too good to hang out with us. But won't stay at home when Reiner brings him out. 

Why are we bringing no-home-training niggas into the house??? 

You thought to yourself, writing getting a bit messier as you pushed pen against paper. You were making a list for everything you and Armin would need to get done before everyone arrived around 6:30. It was easier to buy certain things on the day of (veggies for example) so your fridge isn't so packed. Not many places were open past 5 so you were trying to remember everything as 1pm rolled around.

You tapped the pen against the counter top as you scribbled what else the house will need. Extra napkins in case Connie conveniently forgets to bring something besides alcohol, Water bottles, set sticky notes out for when people bring food, the whole shabang. 

Before you could voice how this was a lot and was driving you crazy, Armin was standing in front of you on the other side of the kitchen island with a nervous but curious smile. “Are you okay, y/n?” he asks, looking at the obvious annoyance on your face and the sound of pen scratching paper getting more aggressive by the minute. 

You set the pen down, quickly turning to him with a smile. It’s not that you hated them, it’s just that you couldn’t leave once you were tired. It’s your house and they don’t exactly know when to leave. And on New Year's Eve? Hell, You knew they’d stay till damn near 4am. This was one of those holidays where nobody gave a fuck about alcohol poisoning. However, you care about your carpet and your nice couch.

“Yes baby, I’m fine.” You shuffle on your socks to slide around to the side of the counter to give your lovely boyfriend a fat kiss on the cheek. You hold his face in your palms, smiling softly. “Just a little stressed is all.”

Armin studied your face, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “A little?” He asked, placing his hands on your waist to pull you just a little closer. He knew you like the back of his hand and clearly something was up.

You scowl for a moment, trying to make sure he wasn’t dissing you. You watch his lips flatten for a moment as he quickly spoke up once more. “I can see it in your face, I’m here to help, not harm..” You knew that, but sometimes it was hard to remember that. Even more so forgetting to ask for help. Before you knew it, he hugged you gently, rubbing your lower back with warm hands. 

You snake your arms around his shoulder, doodling hearts and stars against his back in return. “Just gotta get a lotta shit done..” You kiss his other cheek, seeing the smile creep onto his face and causing you to smile as well.

He nodded, hands sliding themselves up the underpart of your shirt. He continued to rub your back soothingly. “What else do you need me to do so far? I moved the card table into the basement with the extra chairs from the garage– I also made sure our car is in the garage so people can park off of the street as much as possible! I had to clean out some of the garage because–”

Before he could finish, you cut him off. “Because I don't want my house smelling like cigarettes or weed. ..Thank you sweetheart.” Now that was something you didn't have to ask for. Armin always tried to read your mind on what to do at least to take some weight off of your shoulders and you greatly appreciated it. 

“I guess just get these few things from the store.. We need some extra decorations if you can stop by.. Dollar tree or something?” You let him go, turning to read the list aloud in case you were forgetting anything. I guess now would be the best time to send him out anyway. 

“We just need a few balloons and I was going to get noise makers? I don’t want to pop confetti inside and its cold as fuck outside. I’m sure someone is gonna want to shoot a gun or make some kind of loud noise to start the year- Someone always does.” Last time it was Jean with the supervision of Marco considering he didn’t want any of the other drunks to do it. Jean could at least aim at the sky and not go overboard even with the liquor in his system. 

You look down at the list, ripping the notepad paper in half to split groceries from to-dos. “Welch’s champagne if there’s any left, I don’t think one bottle is enough. Mikasa doesn’t drink much, Historia hardly drinks, Marco doesn’t drink too much either– But nobody wants to sit and drink pop all night. I like drinking it because it reminds me of being a kid–  Dip for veggies! My God..” You quickly flipped the list of groceries over to write the kind on the back. 

You don’t see him move, probably because your brain was moving a mile a minute, But you do hear the noise of the pantry open and close which causes you to look up and stop listing things aloud.

Armin slowly brings out extra napkins, forks, and paper plates that all read ‘2025’. Even themed in gold and black like the previous decorations you had bought right after Christmas. “I bought them on my way from work last friday– I knew you had a lot to do today so I wanted to try to think of anything I could get to help.” He placed the bags onto the counter, also setting down red solo cups since they held more than any flimsy styrofoam cups. 

He gave you a sympathetic smile. “I also have the rest of those decorations you wanted, the streamers to go above the door?” He set everything out on the island in front of you.

You freeze for a moment before sliding on your socks over to him. You almost tackle your poor boyfriend, hugging him and kissing him all over his face. “You are my hero. I love you so much Armin Arlert you don’t understand..” You cup his face in your hands once more, kissing him as passionately as you could. 

Genuinely you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. He always helped, whether you asked or not. He cleans, he works and makes money, he is incredibly intelligent, loyal.. What else could you ask for?

His face lit up at your reaction, lapis eyes quickly shutting and hesitantly placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. You still made him so nervous. 3 years seemed long, but you had just moved in together around summertime last year. Your sudden acts of affection made him almost standoffish, Which was never on purpose! He just couldn’t help but get his words caught in his throat when it came to you. 

You scratch at his undercut, pulling away to look at him happily. “I can set up decorations and shit while you go to the store. Thank you for always having my back baby..” You saw his woozy grin get even bigger, staring down at you with nothing less than love. You kiss his cheek for the final time, letting him go once more to set out the plates and napkins with the few you had bought.

“Alright, I’m going to take your car before I put that one in the driveway too, Is that okay–” He asked, moving to grab the keys that sat next to your purse. You were already standing on the counter, setting your blender on top of your cabinets for counter space. “Y/n!” 

He quickly went over to you, hands hovering to help you down if you needed it. You began giggling, moving the veggie tray off of the top of the cabinets since it wasn't ever used until it was time for a party. “Armeeeeen I have it, Go to the store in my car!” You feel him lightly place his hands on your calves, helping you down anyway. 

He kisses your temple, letting out a half sigh half chuckle before genuinely going to leave. “Okay, Okay. I love you, y/n!” He called as he slid on his shoes, putting his coat on as well. 

“Love you most!” You wash off the veggie tray, setting it on the counter and beginning to write sticky notes for where crockpots and other items should go. Your cooler was already out for pop and the bottom drawer freezer was cleaned out for the stupid amount of liquor that would be brought. You kept the napkins on the island, taking the bag of decorations to the basement and going to set up.

Armin didn't come back till around three, shaking off the snow of his coat as you went out in pajamas to help grab all the bags. He filled the cooler with ice, watching you wash the veggies and cut them with a calmer look on your face. He smiled to himself, placing in the water bottles and case creme soda he bought for everyone. Everything you needed to do for the house was damn near done which gave you time to do your makeup and get dressed way before anyone got there.

“Do you mind moving some shit around in the basement? I cleaned the bathroom and put new hand soap in there but I think the couch needs to go against the wall and I have to cut these stupid–” You felt the irritation and anxiety to get everything done creep up your neck, sighing and placing the veggies in spare tupperware, splitting them up with walls of celery sticks so it wasn’t hard to place onto the tray.

“I got it, y/n. Play some music and take a deep breath..” He stood beside you, attempting to study the features on your face before you looked at him with an almost worn out expression. You were running yourself thin trying to do everything, but music would help the time go by faster. 

“Sir yes sir,” You tease, seeing him shake his head with a small laugh before kissing your cheek and walking down to your furnished basement. You guys had a bar with cute little stools, a mounted TV, recliners and a dark brown u-shaped sofa. Armin made sure you got everything you wanted when you first moved in, slowly buying things with checks after the bills were paid. 

He never let you pay for anything besides the few times you snatched the check at dinner before he could. Even then, He sent you money when the laundry needed done and your dryer was ass. Or leave his debit card on the TV stand for you to get groceries for the house, to fill up your tank. About 4 months of being moved in, your house was full of comfortable furniture, a new washer and dryer, a subwoofer, a PS5? 

You were spoiled for sure, but he made sure you always got your way. It was hard enough getting you to relax and use your money on yourself since you won’t quit your job. [no shade, just knows he makes enough to take care of you.] So if you asked for things or mentioned you wanted something, he’d take care of it.

He made sure to rearrange the furniture for more space, leaving the card table near the adjacent corner of the bar so no one was too annoying to anyone watching the ball drop. However, most of the time when Armins friends came over, the TV had music blaring from it.

Everyone got there between 6:30 and 8 as assumed. You had made buffalo dip, letting everyone else figure out something different to bring a little before Christmas. Ymir and Historia were there right on time, Historia held cookies and cheesecake in hand while Ymir held a bottle of Everclear and a case of cherry coke. 

Then came Mikasa and Eren around 6:45. Mikasa had made crab and lobster stuffed mushrooms, holding a casserole dish full of them. Eren had a huge charcuterie board full of different cheese, crackers, and lunch meat which was also greatly appreciated. Connie and Sasha came in around 7ish, obviously already pre-gaming with an already opened bottle of titos, bacardi, and shopping bags full of chips and store bought salsa and queso.

“Who’s ready to parrrtayyy??” Sasha yelled as she walked in, Connie cheering to pack her up which followed with everyone else cheering. They were definitely tipsy, but Connie looked stoned off his ass and Sasha’s first stop was gonna be the kitchen no matter what. You snickered, helping the two with their bags and pouring the queso into a smaller crockpot under your microwave so that it was warm.

Sasha picked at the celery on the tray before eyeing the dip and quickling going over to it. Connie stayed in the living room for a moment, saying what's up to everyone before going to make himself a plate and setting the liquor in the freezer for now. No one else had begun eating until the rest of the food got there, but Connie and Sasha made sure to stay huddled in the kitchen corner so your carpet wasn’t ruined. 

Somewhere between 7:15 and 7:30, Annie, Bert, and Reiner all walked in with different items in hand. Annie held two things of paper towels, Reiner held a bottle of whiskey, jesus christ how much liquor do we need, and Bert happily held a tin casserole dish of taco dip. And finally closer to 8, Marco and Jean came in with extra cases of soda and extra cups. 

As everyone made their plate and caught up on whatever they had missed in the last few months, they went downstairs to the card table, bar, and coffee table. You had showered and felt a lot better before everyone had gotten there, smoking half a blunt to calm your nerves in the garage with your not-so weed smoking boyfriend.

It was fun to see his eyes become glossy and low after only a few hits. You two didn’t smoke together often, he was more of a drinker if anything. But you were stressed and it was cold in the garage so it’s not like he was leaving you out there by yourself! .. Plus it’d calm his nerves as well so why not?

Eren walked back up the stairs with empty plates, tossing them into the trashcan before carrying three bottles of liquor downstairs without a word. You couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Connie and Armin meet him halfway on the stairs to help him carry everything. Mikasa stopped her conversation with Historia, leaning forward off of the couch as vigilant eyes squinted at the basement door. Was her boyfriend trying to sneak back downstairs??

“Did he just?” She got up, her/his jacket resting on her shoulders more as a cape than actually on. You nod, watching her follow them down the stairs and a surprised yelp come from Armin and Eren as if almost in trouble by their mother. You could hear music starting to play from the subwoofer, volume getting louder through the door.

You hung out upstairs, finally eating your food after talking to everyone and being forced to take at least two shots before eating by the group since ‘everyone was doing it’. Fuckin bullies.. Cocoa colored eyes follow Ymir as she snatched her own bottle from the freezer as if it was a trophy. “Cards downstairs, y/n?” She asked, smiling and opening the bottle before grabbing a few solo cups.

“Should be a pack of red ones on the table.” You spoke behind your hand, watching her smile get even bigger. She opened the door, stopping and holding the doorknob with the opposite hand before turning to her girlfriend sitting in the living room. “Please baby?”

Historia sighed in defeat, laughing a bit as a light blush laid against her cheeks from the few shots she had taken. She knew if she went they’d just make her drink more, but she decided to leave the living room and slowly shuffle on her socks into the kitchen anyway. 

“Let me make f..food first..” She giggled, sliding past you to get a plate and get herself some carrots and broccoli, swaying and humming to herself as she put some dip on her plate with a plastic unused spoon. 

Ymir smirked, half running down the stairs to see who wanted their ass kicked in cards. You look over to Historia, already looking at you with a happy smile. “Thank you for letting us all hang out here y/n, I know Armin said it first but I know it’s a two person thing.. ‘n your buffalo dip is soooo good!” She scooped some onto her new plate, having only really picked at the food earlier.

You let out a small laugh, leaning your back against the sink. “Thank you, I’ll make it again for the superbowl if you want?” She nodded happily, opening the fridge to see the fake champagne. She looked over at you for permission, not wanting to be bullied into any more shots by her friends, girlfriend and just fomo in general. “Yes you can take it downstairs, Take the rose one,” You slide her a cup, watching her happily grab the bottle and place the cup on top before grabbing her plate.

“Wait!” She squealed, setting the plate back down before turning to find something. She turned back to her plate, taking a carrot before looking up at you. “Do you have a marker?” You tilt your head, nodding and pulling one from your miscellaneous drawer. She quickly tossed the carrot into her mouth, scribbling out the word champagne before staring at it in satisfaction. She left the marker on the counter, bringing everything downstairs as she continued to slightly sway.

Eren, Jean, Connie, Armin, and Sasha were definitely getting a little too turnt the fuck up, you could hear them louder and louder as the music changed. Armin didn’t dislike rap, however he was sure as hell going with whatever shit Connie or Eren picked next. You could hear Reiner join in, Annie and Bert had walked down a while ago so it was really just you upstairs by this point.

As you began unplugging the crockpots so you could go downstairs, there was a commotion at your basement door. You open it to see Connie and Sasha drunkenly fumbling up the stairs to ask for you to make them plates because 'you do it best'. You didn’t mind, laughing and helping the two up as they stayed glued at the hip and didn’t seem to let go of each other out of fear of falling.. Even though it had already happened. You make sure to make the two of them big plates, turning with both in hand to see Sasha eating cheesecake on a napkin and with her hand. 

“Thmnak you *smack* y/n, this ‘s so good-” Sasha spoke, closing her eyes as she toddled back and forth on her heels. Connie laughed at how quick she was to eat, watching her turn and fall near the trash can as she tried to dunk in the napkin. You let out a small laugh as well, setting their food down to help her up. “You two go downstairs, I’ll bring them okay?”

Connie fell to the floor laughing, causing Sasha to lean against you in a fit of giggles as well. You glance at the clock, seeing it had only been 10:30. “Yessss ma’am!” She pulled away from you, pointing and laughing at Connie before heading down the stairs slowly and carefully. 

After his laughing fit, he held open the door for you since you were carrying two full ass plates. You smile and thank him, walking down. Ymir, Marco, Jean, Annie and Reiner were all playing a game of cards in the corner with a solo cup next to everyone at the table. You already knew who was actually drinking and who hadn't been.

You head over to the bar, setting the plates down where Armin was standing with his arms on the counter from the inside. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, quickly walking over to take a plate and set it on top of the counter. Sasha quickly ran over to start eating, Connie stumbling over to do the same. 

“There you are..” His eyes weren’t as low, but they were definitely glossy from whatever he had been drinking. He hugged you close, resting his head atop of yours and pulling you as close as he could. “We miissed youuuu..” His smile was loopy, looking down at you with eyes still full of love. He wasn’t incoherent, but he was definitely more clingy when drunk. Not that it was bad, you just had to make sure his friends weren’t aware of how handys he can get.

Eren was looking up different songs on YouTube, Mikasa sitting beside him and hiding a bottle behind the couch. You could see the reflection of light on the glass, watching Eren absentmindedly look for it before a small noise came from the TV when he did end up selecting something.

“I missed you too, my big baby.” You let out a soft giggle. Throughout the night you had smoked with Connie, Eren, Reiner, and Armin. Everyone else didn’t fuck with weed like that, Ymir, Berthodlt, and Jean smoked occasionally but their preference was mostly vapes and or cigarettes which you guys would smoke before them because the smell of weed is nothin compared to a fuckin cigarette. 

Historia didn’t smoke, Mikasa didn’t enjoy being high because it makes her anxious and Annie has this fruity flavored vape she hardly hit. But you were definitely still high. Armin didn’t look to be but he stopped early to check on the others so that probably is why he's more drunk than anything.

He pulled away, kissing your cheek and down your neck with a happy smile at the sight of you as you thought to yourself. “You look so pretty in this outfit, should let me take it off..” He mumbled into your ear, chuckling as he slid his hands under your shirt. You giggle, grabbing his wrists to keep his hands out of your shirt. He pouted as you spoke, eyes staring down at your lips as you spoke. “Hey, We have a room full of guests. Wait like.. two hours for me?”

Armin quickly smiles, nodding and moving to hold you by your belt loops. “I can wait forever for you..” He kissed your forehead, kissing down to your cheek and then your lips. You melt into it, giggling quietly and holding him close before hearing the Ad stop. There was only about 5 seconds of non-TV noise, but within so, you could hear Connie speak up.

“You guys gonna fuck right in front of me and Sasha’s food?” You pulled away, looking over at him with a squint and hearing Sasha die laughing. He looked at the TV in fear of looking at you any longer, sputtering and laughing as well. Armin’s face turned bright red, obviously starting to come to as he unhooked his fingers and sheepishly hid behind you despite being taller. 

“Shut the fuck up Connie–” You were cut off by the subwoofer going back to playing loudly with Eren, Reiner, and Connie all yelling.

“LISTEN TO THIS TRACK, BITCH!!” 

You rolled your eyes so hard they might as well have fallen into your skull, walking over to the couch as Armin held your hand and followed you. “Maybe we don’t need noise makers.. Got four of 'em right here.” You motioned to the people yelling, listening to everyone else who knew the lyrics also start getting loud. Maybe a few more shots wouldn't hurt.

here's part two! kinda suggestive but still crack/fluff for sure.

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[sickficideas]

gotta hear me out || sick Akutagawa w/ caretaker Atsushi - chapter 4 of 5

ao3! 5.3k/20k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2024, day 30: past prompt (2022, day 27: sleepless night)

Atsushi groans when he feels himself start to wake up.

He’s surprisingly comfortable. He usually doesn’t sleep very well, either as a result of his recurring nightmares or just generally being uncomfortable - maybe it’s this mattress. It’s a lot comfier than the futon he sleeps on in his room. Has he ever even slept on an actual mattress before?

Atsushi feels his face turn bright red when he realizes he fell asleep in Akutagawa’s bed.

He sits up right away, far too quickly, but the swimming of his vision he ignores in favor of trying to decipher whether Akutagawa is awake or not. The comforter is all jumbled up, but Akutagwa is thin and could easily be hidden by it - Atsushi lifts the corner of the comforter to peek underneath, and doesn’t see him right away. In fact, he keeps lifting it, and realizes his side of the bed is cold.

He's not here.

Atsushi feels a knot form in his stomach, worried that Akutagawa is in the bathroom and throwing up once again, but he hears tableware gently clank against the countertop in the kitchen, quickly dismissing that theory.

What time is it, even?

Atsushi climbs out of the bed, a little embarrassed that he slept in his work clothes in someone else’s bed - Akutagawa’s, no less - it’s really just bad manners, and he thinks Akutagawa of all people is the worst person to do that to. He remembers he’s still stained with blood from last night, too - and while the injuries are healed now, his shirt was still soaked with blood, and staining the mattress and pillow. He thinks he’ll change the sheets for him, but he grows more concerned at seeing the time on the ornate clock on the wall over his door. It’s almost six thirty in the morning.

He hopes he’s not the reason that Akutagawa’s out of bed, and not asleep like he should be.

Atsushi sneaks toward the door. It’s still fairly dark, the cloudy weather not illuminating much, but regardless, Akutagawa never turns any of his lights on. Atsushi can still see light peaking through the holes in the door, though.

Akutagawa is standing at the counter, only a quarter of his face visible, busy with a pot of something.

Atsushi thinks he looks okay, considering everything, considering how awful he was doing last night, between the vomiting and his really unusual behavior. His skin is still really pale against his dark hair and dark clothes, clothes that are different from what he was wearing last night. His hair is still fairly dishelved, though, falling against his face -

He really doesn’t look half bad.

“You’re still here,” Akutagawa observes, pulling Atsushi back on the right track from wherever his thoughts were derailing to. He sounds indifferent, a little annoyed, but normal. Not the frightened shell of Akutagawa he saw last night.

Really, Atsushi is surprised to see him up and walking around after everything last night. “It's like, six in the morning. You should be resting.”

“I can't sleep past five. It's no use,” Akutagawa insists, pouring something into a mug. Tea, Atsushi assumes. Atsushi guesses he has trouble sleeping in general, too. He wonders if whatever happened last night is something he deals with frequently.

He’s just glad he seems okay right now.

“What are you doing?” Atsushi asks. It’s obvious, it’s just tea, but he’s finding himself trying to stir up random conversation with him. Weird.

Akuatagwa sighs. “Making tea.”

“Oh. That's good, does your stomach feel better?” Atsushi asks.

“No,” he answers simply, “would you like some?”

Atsushi deflates a bit. He's good at avoiding important conversations.

“Sure.”

Atsushi finds it strange that he even offers, he thinks he can count on two hands how many times Akutagawa has suggested he leave his apartment in the last twelve hours, and he’s not pouring any tea to-go - not that Akutagawa would ever have the courtesy - he pours it into a mug, slowly slides it across the counter of the island to the opposite side, and sits down.

Atsushi sits across from him. He can smell the tea - it’s nice, strong, clearly fresh tea leaves, too. Akutagawa being a tea-drinker doesn’t surprise him at all, and neither does the high-quality tea he drinks, but he finds himself with wide eyes, staring at Akutagawa’s mug when he watches him drop sugar cubes, one by one, into his tea until there’s four of them total.

“Whoa,” Atsushi says out loud.

Akutagawa doesn't like his reaction. He glares at him, but takes a sip of his tea regardless. “Don't judge me. You're in my house.”

“I'm just surprised,” Atsushi says, reaching over to grab the jar, “I usually put three in mine. But four seems like a lot.”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes. “Then you're just as strange as I am.”

It’s a weird thing to level on, but Atsushi almost smiles.

“Do you like sugar?” he asks, still weirdly surprised.

“Don't ask me stupid questions,” Akutagawa huffs.

“Don't call me stupid. I'm just surprised,” Atsushi tells him, “I didn't think you were the type. You seem like you'd drink black coffee.”

“I can't stand the taste of coffee. I certainly wouldn't drink it black,” he says like it’s obvious, like it’s something Atsushi has always known.

Atsushi's amused by this information, but he can't pinpoint why, exactly. It's nice to have found something that have in common, and to a bit of an extreme, it seems. Akutagawa's sweet tooth seems to almost be worse than his own. He smiles to himself, this time.

He adds his own sugar cubes to his tea and stirs it for a few seconds, watching it swirl.

“You've, uh…haven't heard from your sister, have you?”

Akutagawa stares at him for a moment before answering. He looks suspicious.

“Should I have?” he asks.

“No, just…curious,” Atsushi says, but Akutagawa is very clearly not buying it - he wonders if Akutagawa has any idea what happened.

“Have you heard from my sister?” he asks, sounding a little angry, accusatory, and Atsushi realizes he has to be up front with him before he thinks something else happened.

“You were acting weird last night,” Atsushi murmurs, trying to decide in the moment how detailed he should be. He feels the stinging pain in his shoulder as a reminder of everything - but the extra stab marks in the door should have tipped Akutagawa off, too. “Your fever got pretty bad. And you weren't making any sense.”

Akutagawa’s shoulders sink a little bit and he looks slightly concerned by this notion. His hands tighten around his tea mug, but he doesn’t say anything, confirming Atsushi’s suspicion that he likely doesn’t remember much of it.

“Nothing, like…YouTube worthy, though, don't worry,” Atsushi adds awkwardly, taking a sip of his own tea.

Akutagawa makes a face. “I'm not going to pretend to know what that means.”

There's another pause where Akutagawa takes a few sips of his tea, but Atsushi's still stuck on this conversation. He's not sure he just wants to drop this entirely.

“Are you…are you okay, though?” Atsushi starts. He feels his throat get tight, like the fabric is still wrapped around it. “You were really out of it.”

Akutagawa's staring down at his tea. Atsushi almost wonders if he's deciding whether or not he wants to indulge in this conversation at all. Atsushi realizes he was doing the same - that’s their problem with each other, they’re never up front about anything. Atsushi’s afraid of Akutaagwa’s reactions, and Akutagawa refuses to open up about anything that would make him look weak.

“I'm fine. It was probably just a nightmare,” he answers. That’s better than nothing. Atsushi figured as much, but he was very much awake that entire time.

“You don't remember it?” Atsushi asks him, brow furrowed.

Akutagawa sighs. “No. But it's always the same few things.”

Atsushi wants to ask what. He wants Akutagawa to tell him. He can imagine whatever it was is something he never wants to discuss again, whether it’s because of his ego or the trauma or what - but Atsushi wants to level with him. “Can I…can I ask what?”

Akutagawa looks like he considers telling him for a moment.

“No,” Akutagawa mumbles, “please.”

“Okay, that's fine. I'm sorry,” Atsushi says. He was probably naive to think Akuatagwa would suddenly open up to him, but maybe for now, it’s enough to know that maybe, he would have, under different circumstances. Akutagawa has a complex about looking weak to others, and he certainly wouldn’t open up about something traumatic in front of Atsushi with how he’s feeling now.

He doesn’t want pity, but that’s not what Atsushi wants to give him. He just wants to understand Akutagawa the way Akutagawa understands him. He seems to look at Atsushi like he’s an open book, and Akutagawa is a novel on a shelf so high that Atsushi can’t even reach it with a ladder.

Atsushi’s glad to know he was there to help, at the very least.

Atsushi catches sight of a little flinch from Akutagawa when he turns slightly to the window, and he remembers the injury on his shoulder. He can’t see if it’s bleeding, the black color of his sweater hides that, but he has a very hard time believing that it’s any better after what happened last night.

“Let me look at your shoulder,” Atsushi says, standing up and leaving his tea without waiting for Akutagawa’s permission, because he knows he won’t get it. Akutagawa just glares at him for a second, but not long enough to get combative. To Atsushi’s surprise, he actually pulls on the edge of his sweater for him, revealing the no-longer bandaged wound.

Atsushi tries to avoid hissing through his teeth, because it looks worse. He can’t imagine that this isn’t searing with pain right now, Atsushi wouldn’t be able to handle that at all. Akutagawa’s got same insane pain tolerance.

“This doesn't look good,” Atsushi says after a sigh through his teeth, “I think you opened it up more last night.”

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything. Atsushi uses a hand to brush some of Akutagawa’s hair behind his ear, so it’s a little easier to see the wound, and he thinks his suspicions are right. There’s fresh blood, it looks badly infected compared to before, too - Atsushi isn’t even sure where to start with this. He needs to clean it up again, but the way it’s been torn at the sides makes him think that process will be much more painful than before. He tries to pull the sweater back a bit more, thinking he needs to see the edges to see more of the extent of the damage, but he’s intercepted.

Akutagawa pulls the sweater back over his shoulder. Atsushi is frozen for a moment, hoping maybe he’s just adjusting, but he shrinks away from Atsushi.

“You should go,” Akutagawa says quietly, refusing to turn and face Atsushi.

Atsushi blinks. “What?”

“You’re putting things in my head that I don’t want to think about,” Akutagawa answers,

“Like what? That you want me dead?” Atsushi scoffs. He’s just joking, of course, thinking back on Akutagawa’s promise to not kill.

“No,” Akutagawa mumbles, standing up from his chair, putting some distance in between the two of them. Atsushi stays where he is, confused about about Akutagawa is trying to imply.

“That you don't want me dead?” Atsushi asks, quietly this time.

Akutagawa huffs. “Go. Please.”

Atsushi's shoulders sink. He doesn’t want to leave. Akutagawa isn’t doing any better, he can’t be left by himself. 

“Let me at least…clean this up for you,” Atsushi says, reaches out a hand in some attempt to make sure Akutagawa doesn’t remove himself out of his reach - not now, not after he’s leveled with him, not after everything he’s tried to do to help him.

Akutagawa whips his head around, and there’s a fury in his eyes that Atsushi has seen before. He’s confused, angry, and Atsushi knows he won’t be able to give him what ever answer he wants.

“Why are you doing this?” Akutagawa bites, backing himself into the corner of the counters like he frightened animal, his arms gripping the other like he’s trying to protect himself.

Atsushi blinks back at him.

“Doing what?” he asks, his voice quiet. He thinks it’s pretty obvious that he just wants to help him, but he knows Akutagawa won’t accept that answer. He’s worried, his eyes look different from before, closer to what he saw last night. His skin looks paler than before.

“All of this. I'm not - I'm not repairable. You can't fix me,” Akutagawa breathes out, dropping his gaze. Atsushi hears his voice break at the end. “Stop wasting your time and get out of my house.”

“I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all,” Atsushi says, wishing he would just take that for an answer.

“Why?” Akutagawa snaps.

Atsushi’s confused, now. “Why do you always need an answer for everything?”

“Because I don't understand. You don't make any sense to me. Nothing does,” he snaps back, and Atsushi swears there's tears in his eyes, but he refuses to make eye contact with him long enough to confirm that fact. “I could stop breathing tomorrow and you're wasting your time on me today. Covering some wound.”

Atsushi's heart breaks. He would never look at it that way. It’s never a waste of time.

Who taught him that?

“I don't have a reason,” Atsushi says quietly, taking one step closer, and he’ sure Akutagawa would back away further from him if he could. “But…even if you die tomorrow, that's not a reason for me to just let you suffer and leave you by yourself today.”

“Why?” he says, his voice much smaller than before.

Akutagawa eyes shine with tears, finally looking at Atsushi. Atsushi thinks he genuinely can't comprehend his reasons for any of this. He doesn't think he deserves this, much less from Atsushi.

“Listen, I…” he starts, his eyes darting away for a moment, but by the time he gains the courage to make eye contact, Akutagawa isn’t looking anymore. “I don't think I can ever repay you for what you did on the ship that day. And, I…I want to do what I can to at least try to make up for that, but…Akutagawa, you're a person who deserves to be taken care of.”

Akutagawa stares back, this doesn’t clear up anything for him, he looks like he needs to take a moment to remember to breathe. Atsushi feels guilty, because the repayment is the only way he can put it into words - but it’s not the whole truth. Atsushi doesn’t know the answer himself.

Akutagawa slaps a hand over his mouth and rushes over to the sink without much deliberation.

All that comes up is the tea, in weak, thin streams mixed with stomach bile, surely burning his throat as it comes back up. Atsushi is sure he made him feel worse with that conversation they just had, but it hasn't even been half an hour since he started drinking his tea, and now it's coming back up. He did admit he doesn’t feel any better, and this is proof of that. 

He breathes heavy over the sink, still visibly nauseous, but nothing left in his stomach anymore to throw up. He gags so hard that it sounds like it hurts.

Atsushi reaches a hand out to lay on his shoulder, even though he knows nothing he does will actually help him feel better in this moment, and Akutagawa seems to agree, because shards of the fabric of his shirt shoot out to stop Atsushi from touching him. Nothing like before - he doesn't hurt him, he doesn't even make the effort to touch him, he just wants his hands away. Atsushi lowers them to his side, and desperately tries to think of something he can do to help.

He doesn’t once consider leaving, though.

Now, Atsushi doesn’t know where to start. He needs to take care of his wound, but he has no idea where to start helping him with the nausea. He vaguely remembers seeing something about only taking that medication from last night every 24 hours on the label, not that it helped much anyway.

Dazai said he would try to call someone. He’ll check his phone in a minute and see if he’s heard back from him.

Akutagawa lowers himself back down onto the floor, leaning against the cabinet, his head in his hands. Atsushi watches him shake, but it’s covered up by his coughs soon enough. It almost sounds like he can’t stop - he’s sure he’s irritated his throat more by throwing up again, but thankfully, it dies down soon enough.

Atsushi kneels down next to him, and lays the back of his hand over his cheek to see if he can get a feel for his fever. The fabric from Akutagawa’s sweater wraps around Atsushi’s wrist, like a warning, a threat to stay away, but Atsushi acts as if he doesn’t feel it.

His skin is starting to feel hot again. Atsushi thinks that might be why he's more sensitive right now, if his fever's going back up. He lowers his hand and the fabric pulls away. Akutagawa’s knees are pulled up to his chest, and he’s sure he’d much rather be hiding his face, but he uses the energy he has left to glare at Atsushi.

“You should go back to bed. You have to rest when you're this sick,” Atsushi tells him.

“I won’t be able to sleep,” Akutagawa grumbles at him. It seems he’s given up on his attempts to get Atsushi to leave.

“But you should lay down, at least. It’s okay if you can’t fall asleep completely,” Atsushi tells him.

Akutagawa lays his head over his arms. He’s not quite ready to get moving. Atsushi sees him tremble, subtly, but just enough to Atsushi to notice. He doesn’t know why. It could be the frustration, the confusion, the pain - all, or more. Atsushi almost feels nauseous with guilt. He feels as if he doesn’t know him well enough to help him at all.

He watches him tense up, and without much warning, he keels over to the side opposite of Atsushi and chokes up a mouthful of stomach bile onto the floor. Atsushi lays a hand on his back this time, and he’s thankful to not be pushed away, but is was clear that was a result of something very painful.

He's not sure what suddenly has him in such a terrible condition. He seemed to be doing okay before, but now he's suddenly much worse.

“Hey,” Atsushi says, his hand moving to his shoulder, “it's okay if you need a minute.”

“I can't see straight,” he breathes out, visibly frustrated, but almost sounding frightened, the same tone of voice he heard last night.

Atsushi’s brow furrows. “Like, you're dizzy?”

Akutagawa isn't listening to him. He uses the drawers behind him as leverage to help himself stand up, but far too desperately, too quickly, and his eyes roll back.

Thankfully, Atsushi was completely aware of what he was trying to do, and mananges to catch him just in time to avoid the back of his head smacking against the marble countertop.

“I'll carry you back to bed, okay?” Atsushi tells him, not entirely sure if he can hear him right now - his eyes are half-open, but he gave himself a head-rush bad enough to nearly pass out. Atsushi has to make sure he stays in bed for the time being.

Akutagawa doesn’t fight him.

Atsushi manages to get him back to bed without any arguments, now that it’s clear to him Akutagawa is still conscious - it must have just been a bad dizzy spell earlier. He tries to come up with a plan in his head for now - clean his wound, get some cold packs ready for him, and then, probably beg Dazai for help. Upon briefly checking his phone, he sees no messages from him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he isn’t working on something for him.

Atsushi gets started on those few things. He cleans the wound, begrudgingly, because it’s clear now that it’s very, very painful for Akutagawa. The cleaning agent burns badly, he knows it does, it’s already awfully sensitive, but he’s managed to open it more from the last time it was cleaned. Akutagawa doesn’t cry out, he doesn’t tense up a ton, but Atsushi watches how he digs his fingernails into his own arm, like he’s trying to distract himself, redirect the pain. Like it’s something he’s used to.

“Almost done, promise,” Atsushi tells him, but that doesn’t make him relax at all. Atsushi isn’t even sure if he’s being honest himself.

He finally relaxes a little once Atsushi moves onto bandaging it up. He’s not sure how long he should keep it covered - he probably needs to clean it again soon. Would a warm compress or something help? Obviously he just needs to see a doctor, but how long will that be?

The cold washcloths are easy enough to get together, after he takes his temperature - a hundred and three even, now. He’s surprised Akutagawa is still mostly coherent - or at least, he was earlier. That’s a pretty high fever. He can feel it, too, his skin is awfully hot to the touch, his forehead, his cheeks, the back of his neck, too. The cold cloths don’t relax him much. He can imagine it’s too jarring of a change, but he needs to do something to get his temperature down.

“Can you lift up your head?” Atsushi asks, returning with a towel from the bathroom. “I'm just gonna put a towel here in case you throw up again.”

Akutagawa can hardly even manage that. Atsushi has to lay a hand under the back of his head to make sure he doesn't drop back down, but it’s easy enough. Atsushi just wants to make things a little faster in case that happens again.

“I wonder how the storm’s going out there…” Atsushi says to himself, sitting criss-crossed on the bed beside Akutagawa, who has hardly make any conscious efforts to move since Atsushi brought him here. Everything seems to be out of pain - he’s awfully tense.

“I'm sorry,” Akutagawa says quietly.

“For what?” Atsushi asks him. He wants to make a joke, but he's really worried about his well being. He's doing really bad. This can't be some normal stomach virus or flu that he’s dealing with, and if it is, that's a whole other problem.

Atsushi realizes he's crying. His expression hasn’t changed, he just looks completely indifferent, exhausted, but Atsushi can still see the tears slide down the sides of his face. He tenses up, eyes screwing shut.

“Hey, wait - are you okay? Does something hurt?” Atsushi stammers. Akutagawa doesn’t answer him, and he’s not surprised by that. He’s made it very clear, in fact, that he’s wanted him gone from his home - but the apology deeply concerns Atsushi. That’s not like him. It must be the fever.

Dazai needs to help them.

Atsushi excuses himself for a minute to step out of Akutagawa’s bedroom and call Dazai. He doesn’t want to waste time sending him messages and waiting for replies, he needs Akutagawa to get help now - so he dials his number.

It rings,

rings,

rings, 

and goes to voicemail.

Atsushi feels sick to his stomach now, wondering why on earth Dazai won’t pick up. He needs his help. Akutagawa needs to go to a hospital, a doctor, something. He tries to compose himself long enough to leave a voice mail for him.

“Hey, it’s - it’s Atsushi again, I…Akutagawa needs a hospital, Dazai, something’s really wrong,” Atsushi says, biting his lip to kepe his composure, “please…please come help. I don’t know what to do.”

He clicks to hang up, and just hopes and prays that Dazai will hear it. He doesn’t think Akutagawa’s life is in any danger, but it’s still really difficult to see him like this, to see him tear up from the pain he’s in. He’s not sure how much longer he can assume his life isn’t in danger.

He quietly lets himself back into Akutagawa’s bedroom, where he’s still breathing shaky and shallow, tensing up from the pain he's in. He's not entirely sure where the pain is coming from - his stomach, his injury, something else entirely, but it's almost unbearable for him. Atsushi watches his eyes shine with tears each time. He turns on his side, arms wrapped around his abdomen.

“Hey,” Atsushi says gently, sat on the bed beside him and one hand on his shoulder, “I'm - I’m really worried about how you're doing. And I don't know what to do to help you.”

It’s something he’s not sure he wanted to admit, but dancing around the subject will only guarantee that Akutagawa will do the same.

“I've been fine,” Akutagawa says, taking in a shallow, shaky breath, “by myself.”

“You haven't been fine, Akutagawa.  If you've been in anywhere near as bad shape as you've been while I've been here, you're not fine,” he tells him, brushing some longer pieces of his hair from his face, tucking them behind his ear. “You're really sick.”

Akutagawa’s body shakes and he coughs a few times, tensing up and moving away from Atsushi with the little room he has to do so.

“What about that blonde woman you work with?” Atsushi asks. He won’t let Akutagawa win.

“Higuchi isn’t my nurse,” Akutagawa grumbles.

“I’m not your nurse either. I still wanna help you,” Atsushi reminds him. “If you tell me her number or like, where I could contact her, maybe she can help you, or she knows someone who could - ”

Akutagawa cries out from the pain this time, curling up tight on himself. Atsushi considers in that moment going through Akutagawa’s contacts and looking for someone to help, but he doesn’t have any idea where it is - he hasn’t seen him use it once since he got here, not that he can recall, anyway.

Atsushi gently rubs his upper arm, knowing it won’t do much, but he’ll lose his mind if he just sits there and does nothing.

“Everything hurts,” Akutagawa breathes out quietly. “I just - want it to be over…”

The admission of all of that is the nail in the coffin. Atsushi has to do something. He won’t just sit here and let him suffer. Akutagawa wouldn’t ever admit being in pain if something wasn’t horribly wrong.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Atsushi tells him, his voice shaking as he speaks before he climbs out of the bed and into his living area. He needs to find his cell phone.

He checks a few different places. First, the coats on his coat hanger, the pockets - but there’s nothing there. He rammages through things that could be commonly used drawers in his kitchen, but there’s nothing there, either. He hopes for maybe even a phone book, but he imagines that’s not something mafia members can keep, that’s too much of a liability. He wonders if Akutagawa’s cellphone would even have contacts in it for the same reason, and if it did, would they have the correct names attached?

While he’s looking through more kitchen drawers, he remembers something.

He used to have Higuchi’s number himself. He called it once, from a phone booth, in his first few days at the Agency. He probably still has it in his bag. It’s just over by the couch, that’s the last he saw it, but when he makes it to the living room, he sees Akutagawa’s bedroom door close just a bit, like someone just walked inside and is closing the door behind them.

Atsushi feels his stomach jump up into his throat when he realizes someone else is in the apartment.

That can’t have been Akutagawa. He’s too weak to even stand himself up, let alone close the door, and he’s fairly certain he did that already when he initially came out here to look. He supposes it’s a possibility that Akutagawa just used Rashomon - maybe Atsushi didn’t close the door enough, and now he’s making too much noice - but when he focuses his senses, he hears another set of footsteps. Someone else breathing.

But there’s no combat from Akutagawa’s end. Sure, he’s suffering quite a bit, but he can’t imagine that if this is someone unfamiliar, he would be completely motionless.

Regardless, Atsushi pushes the door in, both arms transformed, just in case - and standing by his bedside is someone familiar, at least in passing - a man with a hat and red hair.

“The Weretiger's here?” Chuuya says to himself with an annoyed glare, hands in his pockets. “Makes sense, I guess.”

He's only had a few chance encounters with this man, and he's got a real threatening presence despite his smaller size. It’s enough just to know he’s an executive of the Port Mafia. Atsushi wasn't aware Chuuya even knew that Akutagawa existed.

Could it be Dazai sent him here?

“Chuuya,” Akutagawa breathes out. Atsushi sees the way that he tenses up, trying to sit himself up but collapsing back onto the bed from the pain it causes him. Atsushi almost thinks he's trying to put on a show for him, trying to be respectful or look professional - he doesn't know. He can understand where he’s coming from, but he thought he had given up on the facade for now, at least.

“Stop that, stay where you are,” Chuuya tells him, turning himself toward Akutagawa, laying a hand on his chest and forcing him back down. “I've been trying to contact you for days. You need’a stop holeing yourself up like this.”

Atsushi is relieved beyond belief that someone is here to help him, but he wonders about their connection.

“You…know Akutagawa?” he asks quietly, taking a few steps closer.

“Tch,” Chuuya huffs. “I've known him longer than you, punk.”

Akutagawa avoids eye contact with both of them. It seems like he’s at a point where he’s too exhausted to do that in the first place, but his guard seems lowered. As if, for some reason, he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep up appearances around Chuuya, even after trying to sit himself up. Like he feels safe around him.

Chuuya gently lays the back of his hand against Akutagawa’s hot forehead, wincing at the feeling. Atsushi’s sure it’s worse than before.

“How long's he been this sick for?” Chuuya asks him, turning his head to face him.

“Over a week, at least,” Atsushi says. “I’m not…really sure.”

Chuuya just nods, and without much effort at all, he scoops Akutagawa out of the bed, careful to avoid the spot where his bad wound is. He wonders how he knew about that.

“Will you - can you take him to the Port Mafia infirmary?” Atsushi asks desperately as Chuuya heads for the bedroom door, and Akutagawa makes no effort to move. He’s not sure if he’s not able to, or if he just knows Chuuya won’t let him fight his way out.

“That's why I'm here, tiger-boy,” Chuuya sighs, sounding a little annoyed, like it’s obvious.

Atsushi blinks as he follows behind him. “So…you knew?”

“Dazai told me this morning,” Chuuya says. “He's been throwin’ up and he's got an infected injury. Right?”

Atsushi nods. He feels relieved, but he can’t ignore the knot forming in his stomach. He should be happy that someone’s finally here to help him, but he’s not sure why he feels this way instead.

Is it because he knows he’s dying?

Is it because he knows that even if this is just a flu or a stomach virus, that it could still be really bad for him, that it’s still possible he might not recover completely? Maybe he’s just being irrational, he doesn’t know - but he doesn’t want to leave him.

After all, Akutagawa said he’s never told anyone about his limited time left.

He watches Chuuya take Akutagawa to the door as he picks up his own messenger bag, and holds it close to his chest, like it’s there to comfort him.

This is good. Someone is finally here to help Akutagawa, to get him medical attention.

So, why is he so desperately trying to hold back tears?

[nickcharleswife]

There are few bone chilling moments quite as horrifying as a coworker texting in all caps that the coffee machine is dead on Monday at 8:30 am.

We work in insurance.

Year end is in two weeks.

Welcome to hell.

[mechanicalbowtye]

read the scratch upd8. little too close to home

[welcometoqueer]

I haven’t really seen any of the more recent U.S. election news hitting tumblr yet so here’s some updates (now edited with sources added):

There’s evidence of Trump cheating and interfering with the election.

Possible Russian interference.

Mail-in ballots are not being counted or “recognized” in multiple (notably swing) states.

30+ bomb threats were called in and shut down polling stations on Election Day.

20+ million votes are still unaccounted for, and that’s just to have the same voter turnout as 2020.

There was record voter turnout and new/first-time voter registration this year. We definitely should be well over the turnout in 2020.

U.S. citizens are using this site to demand, not only a recount, but a complete investigation into election fraud and interference for the reasons stated above:

Here is what I submitted as an example:

An investigation for election interference and fraud is required. We desperately need a recount or even a revote. The American people deserve the right to a free and fair election. There has been evidence unveiled of Trump cheating and committing election fraud which is illegal. There is some evidence of possible Russian interference. At least 30+ bomb threats were called in to polling places. Multiple, notably swing states, have ballots unaccounted for and voting machines not registering votes. Ballots and ballot boxes were tampered with and burned. Over 20 million votes that we know of are unaccounted for. With record turnout and new voter registration this year, there should be no possibility that there are less votes than even in the 2020 election.

Sources (working on finding more links but if anyone wants to add info, it’s appreciated):

FBI addressing Russian interference and bomb threats:

Emails released by Rachael Bellis (private account, can’t share original tweet) confirming Trump committing election fraud:

Pennsylvania's Centre County officials say they are working with their ballot scanner vendor to figure out why the county's mail-in ballot data is "not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software:”

Wisconsin recount:

[ID:

Multiple screenshots and images.

The first is a screenshot with a link and information for contacting the White House directly regarding election fraud. The instructions include choosing to leave a comment to President Joe Biden directly and to select election security as the reason.

The screenshot then instructs people to include any or all of the following information in a paragraph as a comment to the president:

32 fake bomb threats were called into Democratic leaning poll places, rendering polling places closed for at least an hour.

A lot of people reporting their ballots were not counted for various reasons.

This all occurred in swing states.

This is too coincidental that these things happen and swing in his favor after months of hinting at foul play.

Directly state that an investigation for tampering, interference, fraud is required, not just a recount.

The second image is from the FBI Twitter account that reads:

The FBI is aware of bomb threats to polling locations in several states, many of which appear to originate from Russian email domains. None of the threats have been determined to be credible thus far. https://t.co/j3YfajVK1m — FBI (@FBI) November 5, 2024

The next four Gmail screenshots of an email sent to Rachael Bellis from Chris T. Spackman that read together as follows:

Dear BELLIS, RACHAEL E., The Dauphin County Board of Elections received a challenge to your absentee ballot you applied for in the November 5, 2024 General Election. The challenge argues that a provision of the Pennsylvania Election Code takes precedence over the federal Uniformed and Overseas Citizens Absentee Voting Act (UOCAVA), which requires states and counties to permit U.S. citizens who move overseas to vote by absentee ballot for federal offices based on their last U.S. residential address.

The full text of the challenge that was filed appears below this email.

You may respond to the challenge in any of the following ways:

1. Call the Bureau of Registration and Election at (717) 780-6360;

2. Email a statement to the Bureau at Election election@dauphincounty.gov. Any statement you submit regarding the period during which you lived in Dauphin County, any family or connections that you still have here, and why you are now residing abroad would be read into the record.

3. Appear in person at a Board of Elections hearing scheduled for Friday, November 8 at a time to be determined in the Commissioners Public Hearing Room, 4th floor of Dauphin County Administration Building, 2 S 20d St, Harrisburg, PA 17111. The meeting is also likely to be livestreamed on Facebook on the Dauphin County channel.

Sincerely,

Christopher T Spackman

TEXT OF CHALLENGE BEGINS

Dear Dauphin County Board of Elections,

I am submitting this challenge to an absentee ballot application pursuant to 25 Pa. Stat.

3146.8(f).

25 Pa. Stat. 3146.8(f) Any person challenging an application for an absentee ballot, an absentee ballot, an application for a mail-in ballot or a mail-in ballot for any of the reasons provided in this act shall deposit the sum of ten dollars ($10.00) in cash with the county board, which sum shall only be refunded if the challenge is sustained or if the challenge is withdrawn within five (5) days after the primary or election. If the challenge is dismissed by any lawful order then the deposit shall be forfeited. The county board shall deposit all deposit money in the general fund of the…

The rest of the forwarded email is cut off.

The last image is a screenshot of the official statement from the Centre County, Pennsylvania Board of Commissioners released on November 6, 2024 that states:

Centre County Working with Ballot Scanner Vendor to Export Election Results.

(Bellefonte, PA) -Centre County Elections Office is working continuously to provide mail-in ballot data in order to post unofficial results.

To this point, all ballots have been scanned, including all mail-in ballots.

Centre County's Election team and IT team have identified that the data are successfully being exported from the mail-in ballot scanners, but that the data is not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software.

Centre County's Administrator, John Franek, Jr. stated, "We have not stopped working, and we will continue to work until unofficial results are posted and reported to the Pennsylvania Department of State."

As a next step, Centre County has begun working with the equipment vendor to adjust configurations to make the two systems-the mail-in ballot scanner and the elections software where data are uploaded -compatible with one another.

We will provide updates as we make progress.

/end ID]

[heywriters]

Rescued Writing Links!

When cleaning out the HEY, Writers! Pinterest I moved some links here. The internet has changed a LOT since I started collecting these, so some links may include outdated info. All were still active when I made this, but it's been in my drafts for a hot minute.

Protip! In Firefox, check to toggle reader view when reading these (mobile: the page icon in the url bar; desktop: same icon or hit F9). This removes popups, ads, screen clutter, and often has an audio option.

Survivors of Internet Decay Award!

These active sites featured most often in my collections so they get the top of the list.

Helping Writers Become Authors

Mythcreants

Bryn Donovan

Getting Started (Ideas & Intros)

How to Start Writing a Book: Learn One Writer’s Process | Marian Schembari

How to Start a Story: 30 Opening Scene Examples | Bryn Donovan

Don’t Panic! What to Do When You Have Too Many Story Ideas | Faye Kirwin

How to Write a Killer First Chapter | Rae Elliot

How To Write A Captivating Opening Sentence

Outlining

How to Create a Flexible Outline for Your Novel | Faye Kirwin

Protagonists

How to Write Believable Characters | Bridget McNulty

4 Ways to Write a Likable Protag at the Start of the Character Arc | KM Weiland

5 Tips for Writing a Likable "Righteous" Character | KM Weiland

I Hate Your Protagonist! Want to Know Why? | KM Weiland

The Secret to Writing Dynamic Characters: It's Always Their Fault | KM Weiland

A Protagonist’s Moment of Realisation

Antagonists

Blurring the Lines: What Are Anti-Heroes and Anti-Villains?

Antagonists: Inner & Outer Demons | Kristen Lamb

How to Write Multiple Antagonists | KM Weiland

Character Building

The Epic Guide to Character Creation, Part 1 | Kylie Day

Pick Up A Bad Habit | Maggie Maxwell

How To Write Characters from the Opposite Gender | Rachel Poli

Top 4 Tips for Using Backstory in Your Novel | Diana Anderson-Tyler

Depicting Background Characters | Chris Winkle

Scene Building

The 5 Elements Of A Good Scene | Amanda Patterson

A New Way to Think About Scene Structure | KM Weiland

2 Ways to Make the Most of Your Story’s Climactic Setting | KM Weiland

8 Things Writers Forget When Writing Fight Scenes | Lisa Voisin

Descriptions

Master List of Facial Expressions | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Words to Describe Voices | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Physical Description for Writers | Bryn Donovan

Writer’s Guide to Serious Injuries and Calamities | Bryn Donovan

How to Ground Your Reader (in the setting) | Rachel Craft

The Forgotten Fifth Sense | Writer's Relief

Never Name an Emotion in Your Story | KM Weiland

Show, Don't Tell: How to Write the Stages of Grief | Ruthanne Reid

100 Words for Facial Expressions

Dialogue

How To Write Good Dialogue: Ten Tips | Irving Weinman

Seven Dialogue Don’ts | Jason Bougger

10 Keys to Writing Dialogue in Fiction | Katherine Cowley

Points-Of-View (POV)

What Every Writer Ought to Know About the Omniscient POV | KM Weiland

Motivation & Support

What New Writers Need To Know About Fear | Bryan Collins

How to Discover Your Writing Process with Gabriela Pereira | Kirsten Oliphant

Editing & Revising

18 Overused Words to Replace When Writing | Oxford Tutoring

An Easy Way to Immediately Improve Your Character’s Action Beats | KM Weiland

Want More Depth to Your Writing? | Sacha Black

How Much is Too Much Backstory? | Ellen Brock

Why Your Writing Sounds Weird (And What You Can Do About It) | Joe Brock

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers | Jenny Bravo

Favorite Revision and Editing Tricks

Short Stories & Flashfic

How to Write a Story a Week: A Day-by-Day Guide | Emily Wenstrom

How Flash Fiction / Microfiction Can Help With Your Writing | Rhianne Williams

Worksheets & Downloads

Writing Worksheet Archive

If anyone out there loves making lists and wants to transport this to another site, you have every right to do so! Just let me know in a reblog so I can share it here again :)

---

HEY! Writers' Links

Tip Jar! If you enjoy my blog and advice, support me on Ko-fi!🤗

Follow me on AO3 for fanfiction

Visit my Pinterest & Unsplash for visual inspiration

[remxedmoon]

(You don’t know how much longer you can do this.)

hi the wip for this was absolutely not supposed to blow up. why does that have 1k notes. horrifying. anyways!!!! it’s update time baby!!!! 64 new assets this time around!

so that’s what the caption was supposed to be. this update was already pretty damn big and took a ton of time to make!!! and i was finally done!! but then my hand slipped and now we’re at 143 new assets. super sorry for the delay! That Was Not Supposed To Happen.

i’ll go more indepth below the cut, but this update encompasses all menu/profile art for both isat and sasasaap, battle portraits for sasasaap, every single pixel icon in isat (to my knowledge anyways), the dialogue skipping animations, and a few miscellaneous additions.

also i spent too much time on these to put them below the cut so Please God Look At My Icon Resprites I Spent 16 Hours On Them. enjoy!

okay first things first. why the hell is this batch 143 assets. so. i HEAVILY underestimated how many times the menu drawings are used in the games. even removing all of the custom art, it’s still ≈30-40 variations! that’s a lot! and once i finally finished everything, i got Posting Anxiety and somehow convinced myself that attempting Animation And Pixel Art (two things i haven’t done in YEARS) would be easier than writing a normal post. so here we are.

the custom art here is pretty much par for the course at this point. extra menu art for bonnie, extra expressions for the party in act 5, we’ve done this enough times that it’s expected. i am aware that bonnie’s custom menu art gets completely covered by the ui. i kept it in because it’s really funny (and also i didn’t feel like extending the sprite (but then the sasasaap version forced me to extend the sprite anyways so Whartever)).

once again, provided a spritesheet for sasasaap’s battle portraits! i do intend to cover both games, it’s just a slightly lower priority atm. unlike isat though, i’ve got Less (read “No”) experience with sasasaap, so there might be more issues with those assets?? apologies if there are, i’ll try to fix any issues that come up!

the Miscellaneous Additions i mentioned above are the sprites used on the teleport map and the loading screen, which is just a tiny version of the skipping animation. they were pretty small, so i figured i might as well get them out of the way!

not actually much to say about the 75 icons surprisingly! i haven’t done pixel art in about 5 years?? and that’s a Travesty actually these were super fun to make. i did make mockups for the overworld sprites earlier, but they aren’t Officially part of the redraws (yet) so they’re getting posted seperately

and also!! some exciting news!! this project might actually become a Proper Published Mod pretty soon!! i’ve been in contact with someone who’s willing to help me get everything set up, and i’ll be getting a Usable Computer around the end of the year!!!! it’ll still be at least a month before it’s up (i’d like to get the enemy art finished beforehand wauaua) but!!! still exciting!

okay, i think that’s everything relevant to the update!! i Definitely can’t fit all of the relevant assets here lol. but i’ll try my best ! please enjoy !!

[almasrady]

Emergency, read my story and help me ‼️

Please Share Or Replog Or Donate For My Family💔🙏

Hello, I am Sameha from Gaza, I am 30 years old, married and have a seven-year-old daughter named Almas. She suffers from a chronic chest crisis, and now my daughter does not have the basics of life and needs to buy treatment on a continuous and very expensive basis.

I am writing these words after deep thought, as the urgent need to save me and my daughter is beyond my ability to bear.

I would like to add that I studied arts and graduated with a high grade, and I aspired to become a teacher in my country, in addition to being a mother to a child.

I wished that she would come into this world in better conditions and not live in war deprived of her most basic rights

But the war came and destroyed all our dreams and ambitions.

My mother was martyred in the war and my father and sisters were seriously injured and

We are living death.

Please help me protect my family and my daughter to restore life and hope to them. Every donation, even if it is only 5 dollars, can make a difference. It means a lot to us and to our child. Please reshape their lives with love and safety, and help build new hope in their differences by helping me save my family.

I feel so sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know this is a difficult request, but I also know that there is still humanity and a living conscience and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this very difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to ask me!

My sincere regards and thank you.

My campaig vetted by

@//90-ghost here

Donation link ✅

[apollos-boyfriend]

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

[ms-demeanor]

The driving times you've given are so interesting to me because for the same distance in the uk, using all motorways so 70 mph speed limit, is 5 hours for 300 miles and 9 hours for 500 miles without traffic which is absolutely impossible.

I regularly drive 70 miles (1 way) and that still takes me around 2 hours even being 95% dual carriageway (70 limit) and 5% country roads (60 limit) with decent traffic I am exhausted by the end. I couldn't imagine ever doing that as a commute!

But I'd love to do a long drive on american roads at least once to see how it differs

Sometimes I drive like an absolute asshole so the drive from LA to Vegas (about 250 miles from my departure/arrival points) takes under 3 hours when I'm driving in the middle of the night and there's no traffic. That kind of thing is pretty easy when you leave at 1am and show up around 4am and you can do 80-90 easy for most of the drive when there's no one around on a tuesday night. 90 also doesn't feel all that fast on a wide, straight, well-maintained highway. I don't think I'd ever do 90 on, like, the 10 through Pomona where there's always traffic and lots of construction and the road is full of potholes, but on the 15 between Barstow and Vegas? For sure.

But also my 30 mile one way commute to the office takes a minimum of 45 minutes in good traffic and took 2 hours the last time I drove in. It averages about an hour on an eight lane freeway with a speed limit of 65mph. THAT is exhausting. But that's traffic, which is different than just driving, which is relaxing.

When I was taking my trip from LA to Texas, I ended up driving through large parts of Arizona and all of New Mexico; it was mid-week and we were on one of the main interstate highways (40) and there were stretches where I wouldn't see another car on my side of the highway for a good ten minutes at a time. I just looked it up and the population density of New Mexico is 17 people per square mile. The population density of the UK is 740 people per square mile. The population density of LA county is 2467 people per square mile (though California as a whole is about 250 people per square mile - the drive from LA to San Francisco takes me around 5.5 hours and is about 400 miles because a lot of the area between those two huge metro areas is extremely sparsely populated! But also I once drove from Sacramento to LA and it took me around 4.5 hours to get from Sacramento to Canyon Country (330 miles), then another 3 hours to get from Canyon Country to Culver City to the area I live in (60 miles) because I hit morning rush hour traffic).

One of the things about the US is that it's HUGE. But another thing about the US is that there are many parts of it that are very, very empty. I live in an area that is VERY very crowded, but it's relatively easy for me to get to someplace that is very empty, and really I think that's the thing that makes it different in terms of driving.

[bluecookies02]

Viktor x Wife!Reader

Marriage headcanons that nobody asked for. Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

word count : 0.5k

cw: none

Being his wife is a chore and a half.

The limited time spent together, the stress of his job, the snappy attitude he gets when he's being swarmed with deadlines, inventions, investors, the council....

But then he's waking you up early every morning, just so he could spend those sweet 30 minutes before he has to leave for work, having tea or coffee with you until the very last moment. Then he's texting you during every 5 minute break he takes, and if the occasion allows, he calls.

At night he's tiptoeing into bed as to not wake you(you hear his cane from the hallway), laying perfectly still until he can't help but put an arm over you, or touch your legs together. It's endearing to watch him hold his breath as you pretend you've fallen asleep.

If he notices that his research kept him away too much that month, he will start inviting you to his lab. He won't have a lot of time to give you his full attention, but he will scrap up those sneaky little moments until they add up to something significant. He lives hoping that it's enough, and he's always battling with himself, knowing that you deserve more.

He is giving you everything he possibly can. You know this. His time off is scarce and pitiful, yet it's almost exclusively spent with you. Time holds more weight, when it's coming from him, rather then it would if you were with anyone else.

Despite what many people think, he comes to not reject PDA. All within social norms of-course. He holds your hand and he lets you kiss him without much complaint(he secretly likes it bc it boosts his ego a lil). It took him getting that comfortable over the years but it's wonderful.

He isn't an initiator. That can make you feel moody and neglected at occasions. He also can't say a mouthful of loving words to you, it's impossible for him, like there's some sort of a lump in his throat that will never let him.

He will reply to your "I love you's" but he will rarely be the first to say it. He more often says things that look like love confessions if you squint. He makes up for it by being touchy. Puts your legs on his lap when you're resting together, pets your waist or your stomach while you're sprawled out on the couch, softly squeezes your shoulder...etc etc

The worst part of your relationship comes when he fully shuts down emotionally. You had to learn to navigate these sudden switch ups. They used to upset you a lot, they still can if you're being honest. If you do or say the wrong thing, he will say so many ugly things that stab right into your heart, with intention to hurt you and make you hate him, because under that anger is guilt of 'wasting your time' and feelings of complete inadequacy to keep you happy.

He does his job with an insane amount of passion, and that's one of the main reasons why setbacks or pulled fundings easily get him in this state.

You used to have screaming matches, dramatic throwing of your rings to the floor, slamming doors and leaving the apartment...All excepted considering you married quite young.

Now, to save you both the emotional toll it left on you, he tries to shut into his lab for a bit to calm down and you try not to nurture his self sabotage if it comes to it. It isn't the healthiest but it does work.

You recognize when he starts getting intentionally mean and you completely ruin his plans by leaving the room and telling him to get his shit together and come to bed once he's equipped to act like a proper husband you know he is. These become more rare the longer you're together aswell, because the security into your relationship grows exponentially with time (they come back full force once his disease progresses...please don't let him push you away🥹)

idek where i was going with this, i just want this man as my husband.

These are like, delulu headcanons, i have plenty different ones for when I am not feeling biased. For one, this dude ain't marrying anyone, at least not legally.

[starsinthesky5]

blondes do it better || joe burrow x reader

description: a little morning moment before the first day of training camp 

a/n: look at me writing a bleach buzz joe fic LMAO. this is a little something i wrote for you all (very unplanned) inspired by today’s content and with some help from my anons and @joeys-babe! enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

warnings: language, smut (a little BJ moment, nothing crazy)

--------------------------------

July 24th, 2024

Sunlight slowly peeked through the curtains of your bedroom as you looked over at the alarm clock, the time reading 5:30 AM. Normally, you wouldn’t be up this early in the morning but considering today was the first day of Bengals Training Camp, you wanted to squeeze in some 1 on 1 time with Joe before he had to get up and leave. His alarm would go off in about half an hour, so you were determined to get in all your cuddles and kisses that you’d miss the entire day. It was amazing having Joe around more this first half of the year, even though the reason for it wasn’t particularly good. 

You both made the most of the extended time you had together with various trips and vacations (joe finally getting a proper tan this year because of how much sun you both had been absorbing) and joining Joe on his new ventures such as Paris Fashion Week & speaking at events in Cannes, but now you both were ready for things to go back to normal. It was a nice few months of taking it easy and enjoying life a little more but normal for you both was football. It had been your normal since high school and you missed it. 

You looked over at Joe, watching his steady breathing and listening to his soft snores for a few moments before he started to move around; his natural body clock probably began waking him up before his alarm as usual. 

You moved your covers down and gently moved on top of Joe, placing one leg on either side of his hips as you moved your hair out of your face. You leaned down and started pressing lazy kisses along his jawline before you felt two hands grab your waist and pull you back up. 

“My favorite way of being woken up,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Morning, Quarterback,” you said as you rubbed the skin under his eyes.

“Morning, Y/N,” he mumbled, his sleepiness evident by his tone. “Any particular reason why you woke me up half an hour before my alarm?” he said, his eyebrow shooting up out of suspicion.

“Well, today’s the first day of camp and I won’t really get to see you a lot these next few days since you’re going to be locked in,” you said, your smile dropping. “I just wanted some ‘us’ time before you left,”.’

“Aw, is someone going to miss me,” Joe teased as he ran his hands up and down your sides.

Joe was expecting you to reply with some witty response, but all he got from you was silence and the image of your eyes getting glossy. 

“Hey, Hey. I’m just joking,” he said as his tone switched to concern.

“No, I know,” you said as you dropped your shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m being a baby about this since I practically shoved you out the door on the first day of OTA’s,” you laughed, your smile coming back at the memory. 

“OTA’s were the tip of the iceberg to be fair. Training Camp, then Pre-Season, and before you know it you’re out on the field week 1,” he sighed. “Really gotta focus now,”.

“It all happens so fast,” you nodded. “But that’s good since we thrive when there’s football consistently in our lives,”.

“Are you excited though?” you asked as you rubbed his chest with your palms.

“Absolutely. I feel really good and I can’t wait to see how it translates to the field. And I’m really looking forward to working with the younger guys,” he said.

“I just know they’re going to be so excited to get out there with you. You’ve always made everyone feel welcomed and seen, even in high school you did the same,” you smiled. 

Joe bit his lip and said, “I still can’t believe you’re not sick of this life. I mean you’ve been a football player’s girlfriend since high school and have dealt with so much shit over the years,”.

“I have no idea how or why you do it,” he said as he shook his head. Joe knew how much his life affected yours and he oftentimes felt bad with how much stuff you’ve had to deal with since you were teenagers. Even though he physically couldn’t live without you, he sometimes thought that you’d be better off without him for your own sake as your life would be drama-free with him out of the picture. 

Since you and Joe had been together since High School, you had quite literally been a part of his football journey since Day 1. As his popularity increased once he came into the NFL, the amount of things you dealt with increased too. Before the only football-related concerns you had were if Joe had eaten something after practice, did his homework, or studied for his tests so that he wouldn’t fall behind in school, and that your Friday nights were cleared so you could sit in the bleachers and watch him play. 

Now your football-related concerns were making sure Joe wasn’t pushing himself too hard at the risk of injury, making sure that he wasn’t hurt (even a bruise or bump) after a game, dealing with a plethora of comments and negativity about Joe (sometimes even yourself), and making sure that everything was good at home since that was the only place he could relax. It was a lot for you to deal with, mentally and physically, and sometimes you even wondered if it was all worth it. Football life was like a rollercoaster, really high moments that made everything so much more exciting and really low moments that made you feel like you hit a brick wall.

But when you looked at Joe, you remembered why you did it and what all this was truly worth. It was worth it because you had the best possible person by your side and you two had built a life together which was a little chaotic, but incredibly fulfilling and filled with a kind of love you couldn’t put into words. You wouldn’t trade anything for this, no matter how rough it got. You’d never give this up. 

“You,” you smiled. “You’re the reason I do it. Because you are the single most important person in my life and I love you,” you add as you lean down to kiss him, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he melts against your soft lips. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he grinned as he pulled away from your lips. 

“And you won’t have to know since I’m not going anywhere,” you smiled as you moved your left hand to his view, showing off the very beautiful and very new engagement ring he put on your ring finger. 

“I love you,” he said as he pecked your lips a few times. 

You smiled against his lips before coming back up, one of his hands settling on your hips again while the other moved to the top of his head, a laugh escaping your lips as you watched him attempt to run his fingers through his hair.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked with a little laugh.

“Your hair,” you laughed, this time even harder as you had a funny thought pop up in your head. “I still cannot believe you did that,”.

Flashback to a few days ago 

You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your favorite shopping app as you were doing some retail therapy to brighten your mood after having an awful migraine earlier, and were waiting for Joe to get home after his routine hair trim. 

You heard the garage door open, not bothering to turn around since you knew it was Joe. You listened to him move around the kitchen, probably trying to see what was for dinner before you heard his footsteps getting closer to the couch.

You put your iPad to the side, closed your eyes, and tilted your head up, anticipating a kiss from Joe.

“Hey,” he said, bending over against the back of the couch to kiss you.

“Hi,” you smiled, your eyes still closed as you were anticipating one more kiss, which you anticipated correctly. You then opened your eyes, expecting to be met with a freshly trimmed Joe, but instead, your eyes widened and your mouth fell open.

“AHH!” you screamed as you jumped off the couch, your blanket flying off your body at your jumbled movement. 

“What?” Joe asked, his eyes widening and feeling incredibly confused.

“Your HAIR,” you screamed as you ran back over to the couch, kneeling on it and grabbing his head. “What the fuck happened to your hair,” you said as you brushed your hands over the spikey buzzcut that was bleached platinum blonde. 

“Surprise,” he laughed as he grabbed your wrists and lowered them. “You like it? I got bored and felt like changing it up,”.

“Changing it up is getting a different kind of fade on the sides or something. Your hair is gone,” you laughed in amusement, your brain not registering the fact that his hair was practically gone and whatever was left was the color of a snowball. “And you didn’t even tell me,” you scoffed. 

“Gotta keep everyone on their toes. Even my beautiful fiancee,” he winked. “Besides, it feels kind of symbolic in a way? Like letting go of everything that happened last season and turning a new page,”. 

“See that’s the reasoning I can get behind, not the ‘I was Bored’ excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“But do you like it?” he asked again.

You looked at him carefully for a few seconds, assessing the new look he had. Well, it wasn’t all new. “I’m getting major deja vu right now from the blonde even though this is a bit more platinum than high school,” recalling his original blonde look during your high school days. 

“Yeah?” he laughed.

“Blondes definitely do it better from what I can recall from our adolescence,” you winked, remembering all those times you’d sneak away with Joe for a quick moment before he had practice or after a game. Even back then you couldn’t contain yourself around each other, just one flash of those signature bedroom eyes and you were both sneaking back to his car. 

“God, do you remember all those times we’d sneak away during practice? I’m surprised we never got caught,” he laughed.

“That blonde hair woke something up inside of me,” you sighed. “I remember coming home after one of the games with a limp and my parents thought I fell or something,” you said as you covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment. 

“Damn, we really haven’t changed since high school have we?” he said, biting his lip. 

“Not one bit,” you shook your head. “I do like that you’re channeling some of that Athens luck for this season since you dyed it when we won the district championship. This is def a manifestation tactic,” you said as you cupped his face and turned his head to the side to get a good look at the hair again. 

“Keep talking,” he said as he leaned in more, a sheepish grin on his face. 

“The buzzcut may take a bit of getting used to,” you say as he nods in agreement. 

“The blonde does help make it not look super ‘fresh out of jail-y’ though,” you chuckle as you watch him eagerly waiting for your opinion, an adorable smile on his face as he looks at you with all the love in the world. 

“But, I will say,” you say as you give him a slow once-over, the increased muscle on his body, his tan skin, and now this bleached buzzcut which you were honestly loving, was making him even hotter than he was ever before which you thought was impossible. “You still look as hot as ever and I would still drop to my knees at any given moment,” you said, leaning in even closer so that you were just inches from his lips. 

“Really?” he smirked.

“Mhmmm. Welcome back Slim Shady, I’ve missed you,” you said as you felt Joe reach out and grab you, easily throwing you over his shoulders.

“Joe,” you laughed, not even a single bit surprised since he manhandled you like this quite often. “Put me downnnn,”.

“Nope,” he said as he walked over to the stairs leading upstairs. “We gotta make sure that blondes still do it better. The last time I was blonde was over 5 years ago,” he said as he patted your ass.

“And what if they don’t?” you grin. “You gonna wash it out?”.

“Hmm, I think I’ll try Orange hair if that’s the case,” he joked while he walked up the stairs with you hanging off his shoulder. “It fits the team aesthetic too and gingers are known to be wild and crazy. One can only imagine how that translates to the bedroom”. 

Your mouth fell open, “Um, absolutely not!” you yelled as he walked into the bedroom, his laughter filling the room as you went on about how you forbid him from doing anything else to his hair as it was sad enough that you couldn’t pull on the strands or twirl your fingers through them during the activity that was about to happen once he laid you down on the bed. 

End of Flashback 

“You look like an egg,” you added as you continued to laugh at him, his smile turning into a grimace. 

“An egg? Wow,” he scoffed as he pretended to be offended by the comment.

“A very hot, sexy, delicious egg,” you said as you leaned down again and started pressing kisses to his neck, his frown slowly turning back into a smile as you showered him with kisses, unknowingly grinding against his crotch while you were at it and you didn’t notice until you felt him grip your waist tighter and a hardness prodding underneath you.

You immediately pulled away, trying to prevent that from happening because you knew that today was a big day for him and this was not the way to start it off. 

“Y/N, come on,” he sighed. “A quickie won’t hurt,”.

“Absolutely not. It’s the first day of camp, I can’t send you out there already tired and slightly worked out,” you said as you crossed your arms. 

“Please,” he pleaded with that adorable pout that always made you cave. “You can be on top,”.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “You always say that I can do all the work but you end up doing most of it anyway,”.

“I won’t this time, I swear,” he blinked. 

You bit your lip as you thought about it for a few moments. You felt bad about leaving him hanging but you also didn’t want to make him use his energy on this when he could be using it on the field. 

You took a deep breath and said, “Okay, we can compromise,”. 

“I’m listening,” he said as he moved his hands to your thighs.

“I’ll give you some super sloppy world-class head and then we can finish this after practice if you’re not too tired,” you offered. 

He stared into your beautiful eyes for a few seconds before smiling, “Deal,”.

You immediately leaned down and captured his lips in a messy kiss before moving down his body, kissing his chest through his t-shirt as you got a glimpse of the clock, noticing that you didn’t have a lot of time before his alarm went off.

“Shit, gotta make this quick,” you mumbled as you moved further down his body.

You quickly pulled his shorts down and then his boxers, allowing his erect cock to spring out, precum pooling at the tip. You grabbed his erection, giving him a few pumps before sliding your tongue down the side, Joe’s hips jerking at the contact. 

“Settle down,” you softly reminded him as you looked up.

Your lips parted around his cock as you slowly twirled your tongue around the tip, moving down the length of his shaft inch by inch. You heard Joe groan before feeling his hand on the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he struggled to hold in his moans.

“F-Fuck,” he moaned as you slid all the way down, his tip hitting the back of your throat which made you shudder. 

You then released him from your mouth, pumping his cock a few more times before leaning down again, sucking and licking your way down his shaft. You began to bob your head up and down his length, sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as you started to send him to heaven. 

“Jesus, Baby, You feel so good,” he groaned as he gently pushed your head further down. You wrapped one of your hands around him, jerking him off with your hand as you continued to suck him off, your eyes watering at the pressure you were feeling but also the pleasure. 

You looked up at him, making direct eye contact as you continued to suck him off which you knew drove him crazy. You watched as he threw his head back against the pillow as a result of your fingers gently playing with his balls, his grip on your hair getting tighter as the sounds coming from his lips got louder. You could tell that he was inching closer to his release by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as he jerked his hips again, which made you stop. 

“Baby, please,” he panted as he watched you come back up.

“Stop moving your hips so much,” you laughed you went back to pumping his cock with your hand, once again leaning down and twirling your tongue around the head before taking him in your mouth, this time setting a hungry pace as you knew he was close. Your manicured nails dug into his thighs as you tried to keep yourself together, the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat sending you to the point of tears. 

A few moments later, you felt him twitch inside your mouth again, this time feeling hot spurts of his cum fill your mouth as you slowed down your movements, whimpers and moans leaving Joe’s lips as you looked up and watched his heaving chest, and closed eyes. 

“Y/N..” he whispered. 

You released him from your mouth, swallowing every last bit of his cum and lapping at his dick to make sure you did, before moving off of him and pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You wiped your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before lying back down next to him, pressing a few gentle kisses to his cheek as he came down from his high. 

“Better now?” you asked him when he turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You’re the best,” he said, giving you a lazy smile. “I feel bad for leaving you hanging though,”.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I can have some solo fun with the shower head when you’re gone,” you teased, his mouth dropping at the words you just said.

“Kiddinggg,” you laughed as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll wait for you to come back; if you’re not too tired obviously,”.

He moved his hand to the back of your head, playing with your hair before gently sliding it down to your neck as he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to save some energy for you,”.

“Thanks, Slim Shiesty,” you teased.

“W- What did you just call me?” Joe asked as he pulled your head from his neck.

“Slim Shiesty,” you smiled. “It’s only fitting after you did this,” you chuckled as you rubbed the top of his blonde head.

“I forgot how many Eminem references I’ll be getting from now on,” he whined.

“I cannot wait to see the internet write think pieces about your new hair,” you giggled.

“God, and I forgot that I owe the entire world an explanation for every move I make,” he groaned. 

“Just tell them what you told me,” you smiled. “You needed a fresh start and you got bored,”.

“They’re still going to be writing think pieces even if I say that,” he said, pursing his lips. 

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Then tell them you did it because your fiancee said blondes do it better and that you wanted to please me,” you joked. 

“You know, I just might,” he laughed. 

“This time I won’t even mind getting hate comments from some of your fans. Blonde Buzz Burrow is def something else and I’m going to enjoy every single moment I have with him even if some girls on the internet say they hate it,” you said before you leaned in for another kiss. 

“The only opinion I care about is yours,” he said before pecking your soft lips again. 

“And I love it, even if you sometimes look like an egg or a snowball,” you teased. “You’re still the same panty-dropping, sex-on-legs, gorgeous man that I fell in love with when I was 16,”. 

“I love you,” he grinned again before closing in on your lips for another kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as you threw your leg over his and moved closer to him, only for the sound of his alarm to interrupt you both.

He pulled away and turned it off, a sigh leaving his lips as he knew he had to get up. “As much as I’d love to keep this going..”.

“I know, I know. Football time,” you grinned as you sat up, Joe doing the same while he rubbed his eyes. “Before you get up to shower, I wanted to tell you something,” you said to him, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers.

“What?” he asked you. 

“I wanted to tell you that I am so beyond proud of how far you’ve come since last November. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy and definitely wasn’t going to be enjoyable, but you really pushed through even though everything was stacked against you. Not many people are capable of doing all of this while the entire world is practically screaming ‘you suck and are overrated’ in their faces and the fact that you recovered from the wrist injury so well and are on track to coming out the other side better than how you went in is insane. And the fact that while recovering you did all this new stuff like fashion week which you'd never thought you'd ever do before is crazy and you killed that too even though it's not your thing. You truly are one of a kind,” you said to him. "Oh my god, and this," you said as you picked up your left hand and motioned at the ring. "You knew that I didn't care when this happened but the fact that you did this whole thing at the same time while dealing with all this shit should be enough to hand you the MVP award,".

“You always kill anything and everything you put your mind to. Whether it be football, your career outside of football, or our relationship, you always do so good at everything. I can’t wait to see you tear it up out there and start the next chapter of your story,” you added. 

Joe’s heart fluttered at your feelings; a big part of why he was able to push through was you. You were like a storm shelter for him in the hurricane that was his life. You kept him comfortable, and safe from his own negative thoughts and made sure that he didn’t drown. 

He pulls you in for a hug, stuffing his face in your neck as you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything on this earth,” he said in your ear. “Thank you for sticking by my side,”.

“I love you too, forever and always,” you said as held onto him for a few heartbeats, not wanting to let go, but eventually doing so since he couldn’t be late. 

“Now, go knock ‘em dead and give them something to talk about Slim Shiesty,” you smiled as you pulled away.

“You got it,” he kissed your cheek and got up from the bed, a bounce in his step as he walked into the bathroom. 

“Blondes may do it better, but he does everything better regardless,” you smile to yourself. 

–The End–

[yuurei20]

Twisted Wonderland Curse Word Compilation: Main Story

⚠️Language Warning!⚠️

Note: these localizations are not literal translations (“くそ” does not literally mean “to damn something,” for example), and are more so examples of what the characters might be saying if they were speaking American English ^^

This post was made in collaboration with the wonderful @irafuwas to whom I am most grateful for the wonderful explanations ♡

#1: くそ (kuso)

An interjection used to express feelings like anger, frustration, disappointment.

Meaning: Dammit/damn it, damn, god damn it, shit, bloody hell, fucking hell, fuck

Ace is the #1 user of this word in the main story, repeating it at least 5 times from the prologue to Book 6.

Jamil repeats it at least four times from Books 4 to 6, Grim at least three times and Deuce at least twice.

Cater,  Epel, Idia, Kalim and General Lilia all use it at least once.

(Note: there seems to be a rumor that Epel uses very dirty language that is being hidden by his dialect, but I did not find this to be the case ^^ I collected all examples of Epel slipping into his natural dialect in the main story and it is mostly just normal words in an accent. He will use casual verb forms with his senpai, which is impolite in a similar way, but he is not using literal curse words.)

#2 ち (tch)

Not so much a word as it is an onomatopoeia, “tch” is still very impolite and is used to express frustration or disdain. It can be considered equivalent to clicking one’s tongue, tsking, or tutting.

Leona is the #1 user of this sound, repeating it at least 30 times from the prologue to Book 7.

General Lilia repeats it at least six times (as of Book 7-4), Jack repeats it at least six times, three times for Floyd, three times for Ace and at least two times each for Azul, Idia and Jamil. It is also used at least one by Cater, Baur, Sebek and an unnamed person in Book 5.

#3 馬鹿 / バカ (baka)

Meaning: Idiot, moron, fool, dumb ass, dummy, stupid

Leona is the #1 user of this word in the main story, repeating it at least 8 times (at least five of which were in a kind of cute way, possibly to make it sound less harsh as it is when he is speaking to Ruggie).

Ace uses this word at least five times (three times to insult Deuce specifically).

Azul uses this word twice, as does Deuce, although one time is just him agreeing with Ace and insulting himself.

Jamil also uses the word twice, as does Lilia (one normal-Lilia, one General-Lilia).

Jack, Jade, Floyd, Epel, Vil, Idia and Sebek also use it at least once each.

#4 野郎 (yarou)

“Yarou” has a literal meaning of “guy” or “dude”, but can be used in a derogatory manner with a meaning of “asshole” or “jackass”.

It can be attached to an otherwise neutral noun to turn it into an insult, which Leona has a penchant for doing, depending on who he is talking about (e.g., snake-yarou for Jamil, octopus-yarou for Azul, etc.).

Leona uses this word a lot, repeating it at least 11 times in the main story.

Unnamed students, Azul, Deuce and soldiers in Book 7 also use it, while General Lilia will sometimes use it to refer to his own men.

#5 ちくしょう (chikushou)

An interjection used to express feelings like anger, frustration, disappointment 

Meaning: Dammit/damn it, damn, god damn it, shit, bloody hell, fucking hell, fuck

Another word used similarly to how “dammit” is used in American English (it is a little harsher than kuso, maybe), Epel uses it at least three times in the main story.

Deuce uses it twice, as do unnamed students at the school, Ace once and General Lilia once (as of 7-4).

#6 間抜け (manuke)

Meaning: fool, moron, blockhead, half-wit, idiot.

This word is used to insult someone for lacking awareness or being absent-minded.

Leona uses it at least twice in the main story, and it is also a part of the string of insults that Jamil delivers to Kalim in Book 4.

#7 アホ (aho)

This is a common insult similar to “idiot” or “stupid,” used at least once by Ace and once by Deuce (in a more slang way) in the main story.

[jezabelle9299]

Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave. 

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face. 

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room. 

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for. 

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke. 

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals. 

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies. 

 “Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work. 

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’. 

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented. 

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before. 

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal. 

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing. 

“Ok your turn, what happened?” 

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer.  “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face. 

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him. 

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now. 

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face. 

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.” 

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response. 

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for. 

“Please, Spencer?” 

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.” 

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything. 

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.” 

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials,  reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave. 

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most. 

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”