#usually with your kidneys

[raccoonhusband]

I shouldn't nitpick but it's the middle finger that's duplicated here. the fact that the completely unremarkable pinkie is the one that's circled with a big WOW! on ford's x-ray kind of makes me laugh.

[lucysweatslove]

Small reminder that for the majority of us, clear pee should NOT be a goal. It can actually be a sign of OVER hydration or even a disease that causes the body to overproduce urine (polyuria), such as diabetes, Cushing’s, or kidney or liver disease. Even if it’s “just” from drinking a lot of water, this also isn’t inherently healthy.

Clear urine some of the time likely isn’t a big deal, but for majority of us, it doesn’t have benefit over pale straw yellow. There’s no real reason to chase it :)

[thedisablednaturalist]

I just put this in the replies of another post talking about how the ER hates chronically ill people but ill put it here as well

Also adding that they were able to see me immediately and gave me my own private room and many of the nurses were goofing around in the hallway. I told the doctor I was feeling a tiny bit better and she told me I looked a lot better and the nurse taking out my IV said oh then I guess I don't have to feel bad about this *she proceeded to RIP OUT THE IV AND BANDAGES SUPER HARD* and then I think she made a joke about putting me back in pain but I dont remember what it was exactly. It was like "time to put you back in pain" or something

Apparently I'm all better now because I could talk and breathe shallowly and was no longer screaming and crying and literally throwing up whenever I moved and was instead still shallowly breathing and quietly crying because I was too tired to cry. They found one issue and immediately discharged me. I can't sleep because I'm scared it will happen again and it was so painful I thought I would die so im afraid ill die if i fall asleep. My dad and I told them over and over my chronic illnesses have never gotten this bad but they still decided to blame it all on my uti and existing chronic illnesses. I wish they at least held me till morning to make sure their treatment works (antibiotics and iv steroids bc I told them I usually get steroid injections for my back). They didn't even ask if I felt safe to go home, they just discharged me. I felt bad for keeping my dad there at the time and I was pressured into leaving so I signed the papers but in hignsight I probably could've refused the discharge somehow.

These nurses were not overworked, were paid well, it was a slow night, they had plenty of beds, (i learned this from listening to my dad chatting with several nurses and the doctor throughout the stay). This treatment is not due to necessity. This treatment is ableism and ignorance and lack of giving a shit and is so much worse in places where the nurses ARE actually overworked and the hospital is underfunded and overcrowded.

Also if ERs are indeed "for people dying" then why wont they move me to long term stay? Where are those rooms? Is my pain not bad enough for long term care until they figure out what's wrong? Like i get its expensive but i cant fucking do this anymore. Why are those of us with chronic illnesses not admitted or at least given the option for admittance? Why is it only in tv shows and movies where this happens? And everyone assumes it happens bc they are led to believe this, so when you tell them the hospital won't help they think you are lying for attention. Because of course every doctor is like dr. House and will work tirelessly to figure out whats wrong and fix you. Even in this horrible pain where i literally couldn't breathe I didn't want to go to the ER until my parents and boyfriend begged me. We get called stupid and stubborn for not going in the worst of our pain, and then when we do go we are just kicked right back out with a huge bill.

my mom keeps trying to get me to go to the ER when im having a flare up and i have no idea what to tell her.

because ive BEEN to the ER before. you wanna know what they did? while i was sweating, shaking, and sobbing, curled in a ball of pain?

they asked me if i was on my period. when i told them no, they asked me if i was pregnant.

when i told them no, because i wasn't sexually active, they forcibly tested me anyways, and then when it came back negative said, "well maybe you should just take a few deep breaths", gave me liquid ibuprofen, and sent me home.

disabled people, in this particular situation disabled afabs, are never fucking listened to.

the ER staff literally LAUGHED at me multiple times. they pointed at me when i was having one of the worst episodes of my life and snickered.

so no, i do not want to go to the fucking ER. my heating pad, ice packs, and nausea meds are going to help me more than anything a hospital could do.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader

next

You were a strange addition to the hotel.

A quiet sinner demon with no merit to speak of who just waltzed in without much fuss or fanfare. No blowing up walls, no trying to kill anyone, no entertainment what so ever.

You were so boring, Alastor didn't even want to mess with you.

...

At first.

Then, quiet and unassuming, you slowly established yourself as both over-forgiving and sharply blunt.

It was amusing watching the whiplash on a demon's face when you flip between them so much in a single day.

Once, Angel Dust was high as a kite and practically lobbed a brick at your head. Your response was "No harm done, don't worry about it." later that same day, the spider-fellow draped an arm around Vaggie's shoulder and slung some sort of ridiculous insult. You moved his arm off of her and said "You need to learn to watch what you say or I'm ripping this arm off and shoving it down your throat."

Usually that last threat would lead to some other comment, but the flat way you said it and moved on to a different subject left the spider fellow standing there without much else to say.

How amusing!

Even he was no exemption from your two-faced nature, it seemed. One moment apologizing for accidentally blocking his path, the next informing him that you'd use his antlers as forks if he didn't leave you alone. Silly little threats that were oh-so pathetic when said by such a...underwhelming, individual.

Alastor's favorite of yours was 'I'm going to eat your kidneys'. Then how rude you were to decline the cooking lesson he offered!

Typically your quips and comments were about trivial things, little things that Alastor would purposely do in order to get a reaction.

THIS TIME, THOUGH

He had a particularly annoying run in with Vox one day, trudging back to the hotel with his patience already at its limit. Husk knew better than to comment on it, shying away from him as he prowled through the lobby. Angel Dust was at the bar counter, eyeing Alastor as he strode on through.

"Ya look like shit." He commented passively.

"Thank you ever so much for the keen observation." Alastor said with a smile. Husker flinched, ears dropping. It was only then he noticed you there as well, a forgotten drink in your hand as you gaze lingered on Husk, a frown setting to your lips.

The rest of that particular exchange wasn't of any significance. It wasn't until later when you sought him out in the Hotel's parlor things escalated.

"You need to calm down."

His grin hitched up and he leered down at you. You were more than a foot shorter than him and your big eyes did little to make you look more intimidating.

"I beg your pardon, dear?"

"I said you need to calm down." Your tail swished in agitation. "I get you had a bad day but that's no reason to take it out on other people."

Alastor chuckled "Oh goodness. My apologies, my dear. But you have absolutely no ground to tell me to do anything."

He back you up against the wall, hands planted on either side of you. His antler stretched out and his eyes took on the appearance of dials as he leaned down. Sharp teeth grazed your face, hot breath stung your eyes. Claws carved their way into the wall on either side of you.

"So, my dear, what was it you said? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it."

"I said you need to calm down."

Alastor's eye twitched, his grin twisting into something so much more unhinged. No hesitation. Were you stupid?

A look at you said yes, but you knew damn well the danger you were in. You were trembling, pupils shaking breath shallow. But you still had the nerve to speak to him that way?

"All right, what if I don't?" He purred, tracing a claw over the side of your face "Go on ahead and let me hear whatever pathetic threat you have."

"I'll bite you." spoken in that flat tone of yours.

Alastor laughed "As amusing as always-"

Pain burst from his shoulder, sharp and sticky as fangs burst through flesh. Perhaps it was shock that had him stumble back, perhaps it was amusement that allowed you to get away from him. You opened your jaw, withdrawing your teeth from his shoulder as skin and cloth clung to the spaces between your bloodied fangs.

You gave him a pointed glare as your wiped some excess blood off of your face and prowled off without so much as giving him a second glance.

He had every right to hunt you down and rip apart your soul right then and there.

Instead he found himself losing his balance, falling onto his rear on the floor. Fingers curled over the fresh and large bite mark on his shoulder. The damn thing nearly covered the entirety of between his collar bone and his arm socket.

He pulled his hand away to stare absently at his own blood.

You must be venomous. That was the only way to explain why his heart was suddenly racing and his face suddenly felt far too warm. His breathing was off, shallow and uneven.

You actually bit him.

Were your threats actually not so empty?

Did you really intend to use his antlers as forks?

He laughed to himself, letting his hand drop back to his side. This was ridiculous! If you meant even half the strange threats you threw at him....then...

Well. He was in danger.

[avocado-writing]

if you are taking short fic requests for wade n logan, how about one where typically sunshine!reader comes home sad and while the both of them have that frenemy thing going, they agree on fucking up whoever made reader unhappy :o btw i love your work ❣️

You fill the apartment with laughter and light and life. You: all parts sunshine and joy, making things a bit brighter even when the world feels so dark. You’re a bit of levity at the end of a day which is usually bathed in blood. A reminder of what’s worth fighting for. 

So when you walk in that night with your jaw grit tight and eyes watery, it’s pretty damn noticeable. 

“Hey. You okay?” asks Logan, voice gruff but full of concern. He’s on the couch, patching himself up from no doubt getting the shit beaten out of him, hopefully not staining the new throw blanket you bought. You head to the fridge wordlessly, grabbing a beer and getting annoyed when you can’t immediately find a bottle opener. He holds his hand out silently, and you give in, allowing him to use one of his claws to help. 

“Long day,” you manage, trying to bite back tears. You hear the bathroom door open and Wade sticks his head out, the sound of conversation irresistible to him. 

“Hey sunshine! How’s my favourite—?” he starts, but trails off when he sees the state you’re in. He goes to jump over the back of the sofa to get to you but immediately falls on his face because he’s missing half a leg. Despite everything a laugh bubbles up from you, inescapable. 

“I’m glad my dismemberment is just a slapstick routine to you, cupcake,” he pouts up at you from the floor. You wipe your eyes furiously with your sleeve and go to help him up, settling him into an armchair - and giving him the opportunity to sweep you into his lap. 

“What’s the matter, honey? Seriously. Who do we need to kill?” he asks. “Is it Deborah? Tell me it’s her. She’s been asking for a knife in the kidney ever since she swiped your lunch two months ago. I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself, you know we’d help you hide the body.”

“You’re sweet,” you sigh, “but it’s not her, actually. I just had a lot to do today and nobody was cutting me any slack, you know? It got too much.”

“If you need us to talk to anyone,” says Logan, fixing Wade with a look which suggests murdering your colleagues will probably create more problems than solve them, “we’ll do it.”

“Yes! Good-boyfriend, bad-boyfriend routine. Oh, or charismatic-boyfriend, grumpy-but-sexy boyfriend. Or even, slut-boyfriend, slut-but-doesn’t-know-it-yet boyfriend. Maybe that one’s better suited for tonight though…”

Logan growls a warning but Wade just grins, blasé. You giggle. 

“Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Be a lot more bored and horny,” Wade muses, as Logan mutters “hmph. Apartment would be quieter…”

You drink your beer and smile.  

taglist: : @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse

[tedkaczynskiofficial]

You're close with this, but I think maybe whoever/wherever told you about it was misunderstanding things slightly. Your brain isn't connected to your skull, it's just floating around in there. Dehydration probably does result in vein stretching in the dura (outermost layer of the meninges--membrane that surrounds your CNS), which is theorized to contribute to headaches. This is editorialization on my part, but that would track with meningitis (inflammation of the meninges) generally being described as "the worst headache you've ever had in your life."

Source:

Despite the known relationship between dehydration, hypohydration, and headache, the pathophysiology is still not fully understood. It has been suggested that water deficit in the body may result in dural venous stretching (Monro-Kelli doctrine) and thereby provoke headache. In this case, restoration of intravascular volume could also abort headache [3]. The underlying mechanism for dehydration-related headache is probably variable and multi-factorial depending on the individual and other associated health conditions such as primary headache or autonomic disorders.

Arca and Singh, 2021

how did premodern people cope with tummy aches and head aches. like. its so therapeutic to know what is happening to your body. imagine your body is just...this mysterious unknowable magical entity. terrible

[cloakedsparrow]

Red Hood climbs up onto a roof with the intention of watching some drug smugglers below, only to find Robin, crouched in the perfect hiding space Jason had noticed. The boy is eating fries from a curled down Batburgers bag and sipping a Riddler Shake.

Jason: What are you doing here, Boy Wonder?

Tim: Probably the same thing you are. Spying on criminals.

Jason: ...

Tim: Want some fries? They're Jokerized, just to warn you.

Jason: Why?

Tim: Kon-El got some to try the last time he sneaked into Gotham and it turns out they're really good.

Jason: No, why would you offer me fries?

Tim: I have enough to share and I can always buy more?

Jason: Why are you being nice to me?

Tim: I'm offering fries, not a kidney. Why wouldn't I?

Jason: Because of the knife to the throat or, you know, that time I beat you within an inch of your life?

Tim: ...

Jason: ...

Tim: What the fuck was your time as Robin like?

Jason: The fuck?

Tim: A mentally unstable individual violently attacked me because he was scared or mad at Batman. That's like a bi-monthly occurrence for me, minimum. At least you were really insane and want to get better now-

Jason: I never said I wanted to stop killing.

Tim: I said get better. You want to be in control of yourself instead of being all Lazarus crazy, right?

Jason: Yes. But that doesn't mean I won't kill.

Tim: That's still wanting to get better. You think half the rouges who rotate through Arkham are actually trying to get better by even that much?

Jason: No.

Tim: Me, either. So that makes you an improvement over the usual. Plus, you know, the trauma from being murdered and all.

Jason: That's not an excuse to attack a kid.

Tim: No, but it's an explanation, which, again, is better than the usual. And you're showing signs of genuine remorse. That's huge around here. How often do we get that?

Jason: Anyone ever tell you your standards are kinda fucked up?

Tim: They'd have to pay closer attention for that.

Jason: Fucking what?

Tim: Doesn't matter. It's not like you're going to talk to anyone and even if you did, who'd believe you?

Jason: ...

Tim: So, you want some fries?

Jason: Yeah, sure.

Jason: These are good.

Tim: Right?

Jason: Is this nori?

Tim: Uh-huh; with paprika, kosher salt, and msg. I think there might be something else in there, but I haven't been able to place it.

Jason: Potato starch.

Tim: Oh, that makes sense.

Jason: I am definitely Jokerizing my fries from now on.

Tim: Try them with the Riddler Shake, too. The mint really compliments them.

Jason: I'll do that.

Tim: Wait. Doesn't that guy work for Black Mask?

Jason: Yes, he does.

Tim: So...want to pull a World's Finest?

Jason: A what?

Tim: You know, a team-up?

Jason: You-? Fucking- You know what? Sure. Let's pull a World's Finest. *under his breath* Little freak.

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[writers-potion]

Writing Weapons (2): Knives and Daggers

Dagger vs. Sword

In many situations, daggers might be more plausible than a sword fight.

Dagger are eaiser to carry and conceal, lighter, faster, good for spontaneous action, suicide bids, self-defense and assassination.

Dagger vs. Knife

No clear distinction; terms used interchangeably

Dagger is more for thrusting with 2 sharp edges

Knife is more for cutting (slashing) with 1 sharp edge

Concealment

Carried in a leather sheath on the belt

Can be concealed under a cloak, in a bodice (sheath sewn into the bodice), in a boot, behind hari ornaments

Bodice daggers (popular in the Renaissance) had no cross guards.

Connotations

Beside its combat value, the dagger has lots of emotional and sexual symbolisms.

The closeness need to attack with a dagger creates intense personal connection. They are often used in fights where emotions are running high: gang warfare, hate crime, vengeance.

Due to its shape and the fact that it's usually worn on a belt made it a symbol of virility in many cultures and periods.

Sometimes it was the hilt rather than the blade: like in the case of bollocks daggers with two...balls on either side of the hilt.

Fighting Techniques

Stabbing:-

The dagger with long, thin blades are made to stab a vital organ like the kidneys, liver, bowel, stomach or heart.

Stabbing directly at the chest seldom works, since the blde may glance off the ribs. Position the dagger below the ribcage and drive it upwards, through the diaphragm and into the lungs. If the sword is long enough and your fighter is a professional, you can get to the heart.

If no professional, just keep going for the stomach and you'll get one of the vital organs eventually.

Slashing:-

When describing a slash wound, show a lot of blood streaming, or even spurting.

Slashing dagger fights are bloody - show your MC's hands getting slick with blood, grip on the weapon slipping.

The aim is to cut the opponent's throat or cut tendoms, muscles, or ligaments to disable. Slashing the muscles in the weapon-wielding arm is the most effective; insides of the writst or back of the knee is also critical.

Assassinations:-

Show good knowledge of the humna antatomy

Use a stabbing dagger

A single, determined, calculated and efficient stroke, probably below the ribs.

Self-Defense:-

Disable the attacker by slashing their weapon-wielding hand (elbow or wrist)

Quick, multiple stabs wherever the MC can get the blade to land; the attacker won't give time for careful positioning

If the blade is too short to do any significant damage, maek up for this by stabbing so ast that the pain and blood loss distracts the opponent.

Vegeance and Hatred:-

Someone who is motivated by raging emotions will stab the victim repeatedly, even after he is already dead.

The attacker may stab or salsh the victim's face, disfiguring it.

Contemporary street fights and gang warfare usually involves these.

Duels:-

If both fighters are armed with daggers, include wrestling-type moves as they try to restrict each other's weapon hand.

Show them trying to disable each other by slashing insides of writes, elbows, the back of the knees, etc.

Dagger + Sword

If the character is expecting a fight, they can hold a sword in their right hand, and a dagger in their left to fight with both

Sword + mace combination also common.

Blunders to Avoid:

Direct stabbing at the chest wouldn't work.

Hero cannot cut his bread with a stabbing sword

adapted from <Writer's Craft> by Rayne Hall

[parfaitblogs]

ive got quite a few... but we will start off simple and with something ive been DAYDREAMING about for a while

so reader is a new forensic scientist that started a lab in office for easier analysis of evidence (garcia reasonablism and best friendedness obviously) and earlier seasons reid likes to go in and hang out with her often and just be with her and they are both idiots in love and the first kiss is super rushed and akward; TEETH ROTTING FLUFF

i am too cryptic i fear but i will sell my left kidney for this fic PLEASE

spencer reid x forensic scientist!reader. fluff. 1.4k words. s1 spence!! descriptions of a case (typical cm stuff). std discussion? sorta? it's about a victim. reader doesn't have one don't worry. they're nerds your honour. 

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long?? writing fluff is not my strong suit (clearly). i researched bacteria for this fic. and std's. if penelope garcia looked up my search history she would ask why i'm asking about how to treat chlamydia. if the science talk is wrong, no it's not this is MY alternate reality. also i am but a wee acting major i know nothing about science? ANYWAYS thank u for the request angel it was so fun to write i hope i did it justice ♡ 

"Hey... I brought coffee."

Your head lifted from the computer screen you had been staring at for the past hour and a half, blinking your eyes to readjust to a light that wasn't blue — you were a big believer in warm toned overhead lights or nothing, and it was your first order of business upon getting a lab in the Quantico building. 

Your eyes softened upon recognising the man in your doorway, and your hands outstretched towards him to take the paper cup from him. 

It was a particularly gruelling case — a man putting victims through a meat grinder (charmingly so) meant your ability to positively ID victims based on... well, anything you'd usually ID them on, was out of the question. You were down to tampered with blood samples, and you were getting nothing. 

"Angel. Sent from heaven, I swear," you said, taking a sip of the warm, sweet (because anybody who drinks coffee black should be locked up) beverage that would help you in the long run. Spencer Reid's lips twitched into a smile — anxious, like the rest of him usually is whenever he's in your lab — and he dropped his gaze to the floor with a small shrug. 

"I thought you might need it. I know it's hard. This case," he said, and you nodded your head with an affirming nod.

"Tell me about it," you mumbled, spinning around in your chair, back to your computer, waving him over. "See this?" you pointed to the list of findings in one of the samples.

Your breathing hitched when you felt him behind you, not expecting him to be so close, his own breath audible by your ear. 

He hummed quietly as he read through the list, and you turned your head to the side to look at him. His lips were pulled into a frown as you watched him register everything — and God, was he pretty. "Yeah... Salmonella, Enteritidis, Listeria... they're all bacteria you can find in chicken. Raw chicken, to be precise. Did they send you chicken blood by mistake?" 

"That's what I thought," you said, snapping out of your Reid-induced-haze, and clicked at your computer until you pulled up another list. "But then I found these as well; Streptococcus mutans, Porphyromonas gingivalis, Fusobacterium and Lactobacillus. From the same sample. And I cross-checked it with all of them, and they're all like that. So I sent that to Garcia and asked if she could do some looking into butcher shops in the area, and she came up empty. So now I'm at a loss."

"Weird," he murmured, leaning further forward over your shoulder to stare at the screen a little more intently, and you found your breath hitching at it. Again.

"What do you see?"

"Chlamydia trachomatis."

"Oh. Yeah, all of the samples have it," you explained, and he nodded his head, before turning it to look at you. 

"Well, what do you do when you have a sexually transmitted disease?" he asked.

"Me? I don't—I don't know. I've never had a—" you cut yourself off when you saw his lips twitch into a smile, and your brain caught up with what he had just said, and your lips parted in an 'o' shape in realisation. "You'd go to your doctor."

"And if they all have it, then that means that—"

"—it's the UnSub whose got it," you cut him off, eyes lighting up as you sat up straighter. "Oh my God, I don't know how I didn't make that connection. Spencer Reid I need to reiterate that you are an angel sent from the heaven above, I could kiss you."

His eyes went wide, and his entire being froze, followed swiftly by you yourself freezing too, words you let spill past your lips registering a second too late. 

He stared at you. You stared at him. It was an awkward game of who would look away first, and it went on for hour long minutes. You needed to clear your throat but refused to, your lips opening and closing as you searched your brain for something — anything — to say to break up this tension.

"Are you serious?"

It was a meek whisper, and had you not been so hyper focussed on his lips, you probably would've missed it. You forced your gaze up to his eyes, catching the red tinge on his cheeks, mirroring your own. You decided if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you wouldn't complain.

"I mean, no," you force past your lips. A sentence you soon sorely regret when you watch a flicker of what you recognise to be hurt flash across his face. Maybe your brain made that expression up. Maybe it didn't. If it did, it was too late to consider that option, because you were already rambling again. "Unless you want me to be serious. In which case yes, I am totally serious. If not, then I'm not."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and an embarrassingly nervous laugh left your lips. 

"Yes. I'm serious," you finalised. Because at least if he found that embarrassing and didn't feel the same back, you could kick him out of your lab and avoid him until you manage to swap units. Or move halfway across the world. Whichever came first.

Neither needed to come first, it seemed. Because his tense body shifted, turning to face you, his own eyes seemingly locked on your lips, the same way yours were only minutes prior. 

"Is it okay if I..." he trailed off, a hesitant hand reaching up to your face, waiting for your confirming nod before his fingertips relaxed on your cheek. You weren't even kissing him yet, and you already felt that nervous-excited mix pooling in your stomach.

He was in the same boat as you, his own breathing hitching when you didn't pull away instantly from his touch. But then he simply stared at you, for maybe a minute too long, because an exasperated sigh left your lips before you could stop it.

"You know, you actually have to put your lips on mine to kiss, Spencer," you say, and though your intent wasn't to fluster him, you did. 

"Yes, I—um, I know. I've just never... what if I screw this up?" he stammered, and your lips pulled into a smile. 

"Worst thing you can do is be a bad kisser."

"That's embarrassing."

"Just a little," you agreed with a nod, watching his face fall, and you laughed at the expression. "I'm kidding. It's not that hard, and you're good at everything."

"Not this."

"You don't know that."

He fell silent, and you knew you had won the verbal argument — he was certainly still disagreeing in his mind, but he was always good at picking his battles. 

But you knew he was never going to kiss you first. Not when one hand was flexing weirdly by his waist, unsure of what to do with it, and he was so awkwardly holding one cheek with the other. 

It was the only reason why you placed two palms on his own cheeks and pulled his face towards you. He let out a shocked yelp that had you laughing for only a second, cutting the sound off short with your lips on his. 

Spencer Reid was in fact good at everything. 

He was hesitant at first, and you wondered if he was ever going to kiss you back. But he did, and then you wondered if he was lying about never kissing anybody before.

Because he was insanely good, and the way he kissed you was maddening and addictive and it seemed you were (addictive) as well, for he was chasing your lips even when you tried to pull away. So you didn't, and instead allowed him to keep kissing you with so much pace and force you thought you'd break. 

"Spence... can't... breathe," you gasped out, and he pulled back in an instant, his eyes going wide. 

He was stammering out apologies that fell on deaf ears, because you were staring at him and he was gorgeous. In every sense of the word. With hair that had fallen into his glassy eyes, cheeks as pink as his lips that were screaming to be kissed again, need for oxygen be damned. 

And actually, if the one in a billion chance of a black hole swallowing the earth decided to happen now, you would complain. Very loudly.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Seventeen

TW for biological functions I guess? In a fantasy setting? And brief mention of blood.

“Stee,” something nudges Steve, rocking him a little, and then there’s another, whispered but urgent, “Stee.”

Steve blinks the rest of the way awake, squinting in the morning light, “you okay?”

“No. Ow.”

Steve’s all the way alert immediately, “where? What’s wrong?”

Eddie takes Steve’s hand, pressing it real low on his tummy, “ow.”

“Oh,” Steve says, leaning over and pressing a little bit.

Eddie immediately seems to panic, dragging Steve’s hand away and shoving one of his own right up between his legs, pressing hard. He looks uncomfortable as fuck.

“Oh! Baby, do you need to pee?”

“Called pee?”

“I-it’s when- you know what never mind, just come with me.” Eddie comes with Steve into the bathroom, and Steve shuffles him over to the toilet, “you need to pull your pants down.”

Eddie looks at him uncertainly.

“Here, these,” Steve gives Eddie’s sleep pants a tug, and Eddie soon joins in on pulling them down. “Uhm,” Steve says intelligently, faced again with that slit between Eddie’s legs, “I didn’t...I guess you should sit?”

Steve guides Eddie down, and he perches on the toilet.

“Now just, relax I guess? Let it happen?”

“Stee,” Eddie says, plaintive and confused and clearly fucking uncomfortable.

Steve squats in front of his knees, which is so new it takes Steve by surprise all over again, and he rests a hand on Eddie’s brand new bare knee, just because he can. Just to feel it under his palm, smooth and...maybe there's a little stubble growing on Eddie's thigh. He uses his free hand to gently press at Eddie’s lower stomach.

Eddie yelps, grabbing Steve’s hand away, “ow ow ow ow ow,” Eddie’s bloodshot eyes water, and then there’s a splash and very loud and insistent stream of urine that goes on for quite some time. Eddie’s breath is shuddering throughout, his eyes squeeze closed and he grips Steve’s hand and shoulder desperately.

It’s finally done, and Eddie's left panting, “many ow. Many.”

“Uhm...it doesn’t usually, maybe because it was the first one? No ow next time?”

“Next time?” Eddie repeats, sounding distraught.

“Yeah, sorry baby. Pee a few times a day.”

“Called few?”

“Few...not many.”

Eddie sighs through his nose, kind of relieved by the news, “not many.”

“Just wait until you gotta’ poop.”

“Called poop?”

“I-it’s- you know what, lets just cross that bridge when we get there.”

When Eddie stands, pulling his pants back up, still a little uncertain on his feet, the toilet bowl looks like it’s full of blood. Steve drops the lid and flushes it away, trying desperately not to worry that Eddie’s kidneys are like, failing, or something. “Yeah, hopefully the next one will be okay, like with what you coughed up...you should probably drink plenty of water today.” It’s not like they can get Eddie to a doctor.

“Water,” Eddie repeats, “brush teeth?”

“Yeah baby, we can brush our teeth.”

Eddie does, standing next to Steve. Steve watches them both in the mirror, but Eddie appears to, mostly, be frowning at himself. Once he rinses, he touches where his eyebrows were, then runs a hand over the top of his head. “Different. No hair. No Eddidie.”

“Oh baby,” Steve reaches out, touching gently, “hey, there’s a little bit of stubble, here, feel,” Steve guides Eddie’s hand. The first sign of hair is so minute as to be not visible yet, but Steve can definitely feel it, “your hair will come back.”

“Tomorrow?” Eddie asks, more hopeful.

“No baby...it’ll take some time,” Eddie pouts, “but it will.”

By the time they get back to the bedroom, Eddie is pulling a face, “wet,” he tells Steve, pulling at the crotch of the sleep pants.

“Oh...right. I guess we’d better wipe next time, hang on, I’ll get you a clean pair.”

“Clean pair,” Eddie parrots back, sitting on the bed, all long flailing limbs. He struggles a little, getting tangled, but he doesn’t ask for help, so Steve just waits and watches; he’s going to have to get the hang of this at some point. “Breakfast food?”

“Sure thing.”

Eddie stands, and his pants immediately fall down. Eddie looks down at them, pooled around his ankles on the floor, “pull pants down.” Steve can’t help but laugh.

Eddie’s pouting, but Steve can tell it’s good humored, a little smile hidden underneath. Eddie hasn’t changed at all; still just happy to be involved. Happy that he’s made Steve laugh.

“Okay, lesson one I guess,” Steve goes and stands next to Eddie, “come on, you can get them.”

He’s awkward in his movements, and Steve stands close to make sure he doesn’t like, fall over and face plant or anything, but Eddie manages to bend and grab them, and then pull them back up, clutching at the material.

Steve pulls the drawstring cords tight for him, tying it securely, “all my stuff it going to be way too big for you.”

“Too big.”

Eddie sits on the stairs, and Steve waits half way down. He sits for a second, looking at Steve, thoughtful. And then he stands back up, both hands awkwardly gripping the rail, “oh boy,” Steve sighs, “okay, but carefully.”

“Carefully,” Eddie hovers a bare foot out, wobbling. It takes him a second to coordinate bending his knee, and his foot lands on the next step with a thump. Steve never really thought about how much easier up is than down, but it definitely is.

Eddie gets a rhythm going, still white knuckling the rail, but they get there, and he’s much more confident by the time he gets to the bottom.

Steve looks at the sad contents of his fridge and sighs. He’s not giving Eddie a cold bowl of cereal, he’s not doing it.

“Wait there,” he heads into the garage, rummaging through the freezer. He comes up with a couple of frozen pizzas, and prays he’s not setting a bad precedent with pizza for breakfast...but then it occurs to him what day it is, and he thinks fuck it, it is Christmas.

Steve gets both pizzas in, dealing with the pot of peas they had abandoned on the stove top last night.

Steve makes himself a coffee and Eddie another glass of water; Eddie looks at it mistrustfully, and Steve figures Eddie has already made the link between drinking and peeing, “you need to,” Steve tells him, pushing the glass closer.

Eddie sighs like a man going in front of the firing squad, but he does sip it.

“Pizza good good good,” Eddie says, licking his fingers clean of cheese grease.

“Yeah, I like it too. You done?”

“Done?”

“Finished?”

Eddie looks sad, “no yes,” and rubs his tummy.

“I get that,” Eddie has half his Pizza left, and Steve three slices of his, “but we can eat the rest later.”

Eddie perks up, “lunch?”

“Yeah, we can eat it at lunch time. You want to see what’s on TV?”

“TV.” Eddie stands up, determined. Steve watches; Eddie uses any furniture in reach, and then the wall, to make it to the kitchen doorway. He stands for a second, faced with the gulf between the doorway and the couch. Slowly, and a little uncertain, Eddie makes the trip.

He sits, and Steve watches it dawn on him that he needs to get back up again to turn on the TV. The sigh that comes out of Eddie is spectacular, but he gets up, and he does it.

Steve feels like he just watched Eddie sink a winning basket, or something.

Eddie’s fallen asleep again, Steve can feel it in how his breathing has evened, how his body is lax. They’d watched 'A Wonderful Life' this morning. Granted they missed the first little bit, and Steve is sure Eddie didn’t really follow the plot, but Steve just...couldn’t resist it.

Clarence earns his wings, Eddie got his legs.

Eddie had finished his pizza at lunch time, and had more water, but only because Steve bribed him with half a beer for afters. And then came Eddie’s second ever pee; almost clear this time, with maybe the faintest trace of pink. To say Steve was relieved is an understatement.

Steve figures he’s right, just like with the crap that came out of Eddie’s lungs, there must be some sort of trauma when it comes to using body parts that are brand spanking new.

Steve’s not really watching the TV any more; there’s another Christmas movie on, something about Prancer the reindeer. It makes nice background noise as Steve decides Eddie has the right idea and allows himself to doze.

He’s very nearly asleep when the phone rings, startling both Steve and Eddie awake.

Steve’s halfway up, Eddie flopping off him onto the couch when it hits Steve; he hasn’t told anyone. Shit.

He answers the phone, already half certain the it’s Robin, “Hello?”

“Hey,” it is Robin, “look, Steve, I know you said no and everything but I’m really worried about you, and it's Christmas so I really don’t think-”

Steve cuts her off, “Eddie’s fine. He’s here he-”

“What??!”

“Yeah, he, he came out of the pool last night. He’s like, completely fine.” Steve smiles as Eddie appears in the doorway, one hand resting on the wall.

“So he’s just- alright? Like, what happened then, why..?”

“Oh. Oh shit, no he has legs Rob!”

She squeaks down the phone, “legs!”

Eddie moves closer, careful steps that are already about a million times more confident than yesterdays, “called?”

“It’s Robin, you want to say hi?”

“Birdidie.”

Steve hands the phone over, watching as Eddie holds it to his ear, “hi Birdidie.”

Steve can hear the noise Robin makes, it’s so loud, Eddie completely startles, dropping and then fumbling the phone and nearly stumbling himself. Steve manages to grab Eddie by the tops on his arms to steady him, and then takes the phone back, he can vaguely hear Robin saying, “hello? Are you still there?”

“Sorry, Robs, you just scared him a little.”

“Okay, yeah, okay yeah that’s fair. Sorry. Can I come over? I should come over-” and Steve cannot blame her at all, but he does kind of wish their little bubble had lasted a tiny bit longer.

“Okay Robs, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yup yup Mom will drop me, I’ll bring left overs!”

Eddie sits with his legs pulled up, trying to tuck them under himself like he would his tail; it isn’t really working.

“Birdidie in?” He asks looking distinctly uncomfortable, plucking at the frayed edge at the bottom of his sweater.

“Yeah, Robin's coming to visit.” Eddie looks distinctly unhappy at the prospect. “What’s wrong? You don’t want Birdy?”

“Eddidie-” he starts and the stalls out, “Birdidie good bad.”

“Okay, can you tell me why?”

“No Eddidie,” he says, a hand going to the top of his head.

“Oh...you’re worried about you hair?” Eddie nods, “baby, no ones going to care.” Eddie just looks, if possible, even more downhearted, “but you care, don’t you?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay. Okay I can sort this, wait there.” Steve heads upstairs, raiding his mother’s wardrobe. It’s arranged by season and then occasion, so all of her ‘skiing’ – drinking too much in a lodge – outfits are all clumped together. Steve finds three hats, they’re all bobble hats and all distinctly feminine, but Steve takes them to show Eddie. On his way out, his eyes catch on the jewelry box.

All the rings in here are probably too small to fit Eddie properly, but Steve takes a plain silver band that might fit Eddie’s pinkie finger. He takes his haul back down stairs, kneeling in front of Eddie where he’s sitting on the couch.

Steve lays out the three hats across Eddie’s thighs, “okay, here we go, what do you think.”

“Called?”

“It’s a hat,” and then Steve commits a personal cardinal sin, he pulls one on to demonstrate.

Eddie seems to brighten as he understands, touching each one individually. He chooses the one Steve hoped he would, it’s the subtlest of all of them, black and white herringbone with a black edge and a grey faux fur pompom, which Eddie quite likes the softness of if his stroking is anything to go by. He pulls it on, smiling, “hat good.”

Steve reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little silver trinket he found, “and this.”

Eddie brightens again, touching the ring where it lays on Steve’s palm. He clearly wants to say something, his mouth opening and closing, but he doesn’t have the words. Eventually he points to the lights on the tree, opening and closing his hand to imitate the slow blinking of the lights.

“Those are lights...they're shiny,” Steve tilts his palm, the ring catching the light, “this is shiny.”

“Shiny...good.”

“Pretty”

“Called pretty?”

“Uhm...so if something looks...good. So if you like shiny lights,” Steve points, “or…” Steve struggles through Eddie’s known vocabulary, “trees, trees can be pretty.” He touches Eddie’s sweater, “blue, pretty blue.”

“Purple more good than blue,” Eddie informs him with some certainty, making Steve laugh.

“Okay, purple pretty,” Eddie nods, “so, you want this on,” Eddie gives his left hand over easily. His fingers are actually much slimmer than Steve had really anticipated, and the ring spins loosely on Eddie’s pinkie finger. Steve moves it to the one next door, where it fits well, snug against the last vestiges of Eddie’s webbing, “okay?”

Eddie leans forward to kiss Steve, “thank you Stee.”

Part Nineteen

[femreader]

♯┆love wears designer .ᐟ smau

summary: stockholm based designer, a model and a f1 driver

pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!designer!reader x alexandra stmleux

warnings: homophobic comment, usual media

dont repost/translate my work on other platforms, everything is fiction and correlations to people and/or places are purely coincidental (slay enjoy)

author: i am so new in f1 world so please correct me if stuff is wrong ily hope you enjoy

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

INSTAGRAM STORY

y/n.official posted a story

yourbff: design me something I beg

y/n.official: always for you babes 💋

user1: new collab when?

user2: i need new thingggss i beg

user3: i will sell my kidney for a bag

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official leisure pleasure (and some work)

liked by sydney.sweeny, yourbff, voguestockholm and others

comments

user1: mother is mothering

user2: i miss her lover era the things we got

user3: i dont those ex-guys can choke

yourbff: pretty as always

y/n.official: älsklingggg 😭

sydney.sweeny: i miss you

y/n.official: next month. you and me and drinks

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful <3

liked by y/n.official

user4: overrated jesus christ

user5: move along bitchy boi

user6: foaming at the mouth

user7: omg i cant believe i got to meet you

user8: i am going to be so calm when I ask WHATTTT

user7: i was on vacay in Stockholm and saw her at a cafe she was the sweetest omg

user7: i was like ’i’m so sorry to interrupt’ she just put everything down and gave me all her attention for the whole time and I almost died

y/n.official: you were so sweet 🤍

user8: peoples princess 😭😭

bill.skarsgård: the whole family misses you

y/n.official: missing you guys more ❤️

user9: very demure very mindful

y/n.official: i dont know what this means 😭😭😭

more comments

MESSENGER

INSTAGRAM

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful weather and beautiful people. Biggest thanks to y/n.official for saving me from a total wardrobe malfucntion!! <3

liked by y/n.official, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc and others

comments

user1: god has favorites 😫

user2: 💚💚💚

user3: that's?? a vault piece??👀

user4: THANKYOU! I thought i was going crazy

user3: since when has y/n give stuff from the vault i need them

user5: money talkssss....

user6: yea or she just wanted to impress rich people

user7: she's alrady one of the most succesful designers of her generation, it’s not like there’s a lot she has to do to impress anyone😒 stay mad

y/n.official: you look beautiful älsklinggg, i had the best time altercating this to your preferances 💕

alexandrasaintmleux: come by again when youre in monaco, charles is jealous he didnt get anything

charlesleclerc: ALL I'M SAYING I'D LIKE TO GET CUSTOM Y/N BAG

y/n.official: deep breaths, i'll see what i can do 😗

liked by charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux

user8: and all I'm saying charles deffo could jsut order one online instead of mentioning it under y/n's comments....

charlesleclerc: always so beautiful mon ange ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: ❤️❤️❤️

more comments

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: nordic f1 track whenn? Thank you scuderiaferrari for having me over, I'll design you new helmets anytime <3

liked by yourbff, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and others

comments

yourbff: nvm me just crying in my toyota odyssey

y/n.official: girl youre sitting on my couch eating my ice cream

user1: omg are two of my lives colliding?

use2: älskar dig så mycket ääääää

scuderiaferrari: pleasure having you, please design the next helmet so carlos and charles can stop pestering us

y/n.official: copy that 🫡

alexandrasaintmleux: so lovely to see you again

y/n.official: you too babes! we need to go get drinks again

charlesleclerc: what about meee

y/n.official: fine. you can join i suppose.

charlesleclerc: I suppos- I WON ???

user3: ...."again?"

user4: im telling yall but none of you are ready

user5: ily y/n!

more comments

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: tack så mycket stockholm, once again. It’s always an honor to be part of your pride. LOVE IS LOVE IS LOVE

liked by yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux, omarrudberg and others

yourbff: love is love and everyone thinking otherwise can fuck off

liked by y/n.official

omarrudberg: <3

liked by y/n.official

alexandrasaintmleux: beautyyy

charlesleclerc: waiting for that bag

alexandrasaintmleux: timeout, phone down

charlesleclerc: ....sorry 😔

charlesleclerc: y/n.official you look beautiful cheri <3

liked by y/n.official

user1: charles is so under their feet lmao

user2: or down bad

user3: both

liked by carlossainz and pierregassly

user4: 👀👀

INSTAGRAM

charlesleclerc: Quick get-away between races

liked by scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux, y/n.official and others

user1: omg travel leo

user2: THAT'S GAMLA STAN THAT'S STOCKHOLM HOLD ON

user3: lmao you sure?

user2: lmao yea, i live in the damn neighborhood 🙄

user4: just saying y/n.official is based there and was for a fact there too just now for stockholm pride

y/n.official: told yall would love fika-ing 🤭

y/n.official: cuties

liked by charlesleclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux: beautiful baby boys

y/n.official: and an angel i see 👀

alexandrasaintmleux: stop trying to make me blush

y/n.official: but it's so adorable

charlesleclerc: then there's two of you

user5: ?????

user6: ahsgfs oh my god they’re flirting on main

user7: idk if i saw them but i think i saw leo looking dog in the kungsträdgarden

user8: i need my poly girl y/n happy again pls 😭😭

user9: yall people can be just friends 🙄

MESSENGER

MESSENGER

INSTAGRAM STORY

y/n.offical posted a story

yourbff: are you in monaco and didnt tell me

user1: stop trying to convert normal people

user2: mmmmhhmmm i see

yourbff: do not leave me on read bitch (affectionately)

y/n.official: teehee mind your biz (affectionately)

y/n.official: yea i am

yourbff: i want invites to the wedding

yourbff: i also coin coming up with chalexyn

INSTAGRAM

USweekly: Stockholm based designer Y/N Y/L/N's upcoming winter collection attracted full house to the fashion show held in Stockholm. Designer herself could be seen with fresh new hair reigning in the show, hardly showing attention to the guests. Recent speculations between the designer, Formula One driver Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux have kindered, although none have been confirmed or denied.

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

user1: jesus christ let woman work

user2: ikr it's not like she has a whole ass fashion show to co-ordinate

user3: i love how sydney is always where y/n.official's shows are

user4: sydney's said many times she loves her brand because Y/N allows altercations to pieces it's so cute

user5: can i now freak out that charles and alex where there too

user6: yea but they hardly interacted with y/n

user7: you dont exactly stand around when your brand is having a fashion show bruh

more comments

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official:

i love you my team, my incredibly talented models, my friends and family who have been a continious support in making this winter's collection. My biggest and heartfelt thank you's go to you and my incredible fanfollowing who never cease to amaze me with your love, support and concern.

I love my job. I am grateful for what I have and proud how I have gotten here. Each piece is the work of hours and hours of love, dedication and passion from multiple people. They stand for uniquity amongst people, courage to be yourself and love all around us. Every collection we've made is special to me, but this one just a clip above the rest.

Therefore, me and my team proudly present Y/N design's Winter collection 2024:

Love wears Designer.

liked by charleslecler, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and others

yourbff: so incredibly proud of you, min favorit tjej <3

user1: all i do is cry on this app 😩😩😩😩

user2: y/n can stomp on me, skin me alive, sew a dress from my skin, wear it and reuse my teeth are accesories and i'd thank her🫵🏼

charlesleclerc: always so proud of you mon cheri <3

y/n.official: thank you min skatt

alexandrasaintmleux: my best girl, congratulations for this. So so proud.

y/n.official: thank you both for supporting me every step of the way <3

user3: their comments!!?? 😭🤍

user4: this was not just a launch. IT WAS HARD LAUNCH. im telling yall

sydney.sweeny: loved the show, loved the pieces, i am so proud of you as always!

liked by y/n.official

more comments

INSTAGRAM

y/n.official: my muses ❤️ charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux

liked by charleslecler, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and others

alexandrasaintmleux: thank you for all you've given us. We love you, our incredible skcetcher

liked by y/n.official, charlesleclerc

charlesleclerc: I love you my girls

liked by y/n.official, alexandrasaintmleux

y/n.official: you two are making me cry. Jag älskar er så mycket. Thank you ❤️

yourbff: fuuuuuucking finally

yourbff: happy for you all 🤍

liked by y/n.official

charlesleclerc: still waiting on that bag

y/n.official: check your backseat 😇

charlesleclerc: both of you get back from the brunch. right now.

comments are restricted

author: teehee im dabbling in smau’s in hibernation

[iris-qt]

𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚘

🫧 ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🫧 ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🫧 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🫧 ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪᴄ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ. ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴜʏꜱ’ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ!

🫧 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴜɴᴡɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ɪᴛᴀʟʏ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʀᴜɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ

Azure blue skies and endless summer breeze tails you through the rolling green countryside of San Gimignano, Italy. This was true, pure bliss. A flow of relaxation that you haven’t felt since…Merlin knows when. The stress of endless exams and finals, everlasting prefect duties, and bickering with your horrid nemesis really left a mark; as represented by your unrelenting dark circles and deep forehead lines.

But at least all of that was giving way to the Italian atmosphere and it left behind a happy girl that would donate a kidney to spend her entire summer here. Unfortunately you were only visiting for a week before school began once more; your final year. This brought a sense of dread to your heart as you would miss the enchanting castle. Your second home.

You pushed that aside as you zoomed through the countryside of this ravishing country on your cute little teal Vespa. Truth be told you’d never driven a muggle vehicle before, but there’s always a first time for everything.

And so your lack of experience with muggle vehicles was the cause of you not being aware that gas has to be filled. You thought the meter getting closer to 0 represented the dissipation of your happy mood as you were, per usual, plaguing yourself with paranoid and pessimistic thoughts. The sudden shuddering of the Vespa made you lose balance and you began veering off track, you and your precious vehicle zooming down a hill with the sheer force of gravity. You screamed for dear life, and, at last, landed in a shallow pond with an enormous splash.

You bobbed up, gasping for air, and scrambled out of the lake quite ungracefully, summer outfit ruined and soaking wet. And suddenly, you heard a scarily familiar, devilish chuckle that just so happened to find your tragic predicament amusing: your mood as drenched as your clothes.

As you slowly glanced up trembling, not knowing if your shaking was from the water, shock, pure rage, or all three, you made direct eye contact with a certain boy musing at your tragedy. His eyes were overflowing with humor as he was leaning against a tree, his tanned legs crossed over each other. He seemed to be reading a book which he put down as he had found something better worth his attention. He gracefully stands up, a complete contrast from how you scrambled out of the pond, much to your annoyance.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, angioletto mio?” He smirks.

“Nott,” you scoffed. “Small world…or cruel fate,” you stand there, dripping wet, arms spread out like a martyr.

Of course you knew the insufferable Theodore Nott was Italian and often visited family here, but you didn’t think you’d be subjected to his presence in such a big country, especially in the less populated countryside. It was truly just cruel fate that brought this spawn of satan before your eyes.

“I didn’t know you were that desperate to see me,” Theodore cocks his head to the side, quite enjoying this arrangement. “Risking your life on a muggle vehicle zooming to my town.”

You roll your eyes, and if you were in a cartoon universe, trust that there would be steam coming out of your ears.

“Trust me Nott. I had no intention to run into a walking headache on my vacation.”

The insufferable git kept smiling, moving closer now, standing right in front of you so you could smell the usual dizzying scent of sandalwood and pine. Summer edition Theo had a hint of citrus mingled in with his intoxicatingly annoying scent.

“I already got you soaking wet, now you just have to get naked,” he laughed with the most disgustingly smug look on his face that you almost slapped off.

“Are you done?” You glared at him, ready to storm off and free yourself from the torment of his presence.

He shrugged, looking you over.

“Need help drying off?”

“I need help out of this conversation.”

“Oh stop, y/n, you can do better than that,” he grinned

You sigh very well aware you had no other option. You hold out your arms and shut your eyes waiting for his casting of the Hot Air Charm. Since you had resolved to live the simple muggle life for this vacation, your wand was locked in a vault at your hotel room.

Theo laughs, “Are you waiting for a kiss, principessa?”

You open your eyes, confused. “No, I’m waiting for you to dry me off like you said, idiot.”

He laughs again shrugging and says, “I don’t carry my wand around my domain, there’s no need.”

“Then, pray do tell me, Nott, what was your plan in helping me?”

He gives you the most shit-eating grin and grabs your hand, scaring you a bit, then begins pulling you up another grassy, verdant hill: one that isn’t hiding a body of water behind it. You have the urge to resist, but just give in. The drop from your adrenaline-rush you’d been maintaining for the past 3 days had collapsed, causing you to come down with an attitude of resolve. He dragged you up the hill, your wet sandals making squelching sounds, each one demeaning you more and more. You hated this shift in power where the perfect git was overshadowing you. You hated it. You hated him. I think.

“So why were you in the countryside? Other than wanting to see me so badly, of course.” He looks behind him and shoots his watercolor poison into your soul as he makes that unblinking eye contact. Another thing on the meter-long list of things you despise about him.

“I was in a self-deprecating mood and decided to ruin my record streak of relaxation by finding you,” you deadpanned as you rolled your eyes for extra affect.

“Y/N relaxing? You must be lying.”

He chuckled a bit as you two stopped at the top of the vast hill, looking down to a meadow of wildflowers. They glowed like colorful jewels in the blinding, comforting summer sun.

“What’re you gonna do, push me off?” You smirked, half wishing he’d do so. Maybe this was all a nightmare. A beautiful, lush, tinged with the familiar scent of Theo nightmare.

What you didn’t expect, however, was him saying:

“Precisely.”

And with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you down on the top of the hill, pushed you back in a laying position before you could protest, and quite literally pushed you down the hill. You screamed as you, for the second time that day, gave all free will up to gravity, rolling down the hill at a crazy speed. You knew Nott was your unproclaimed but painfully obvious nemesis but you never thought he’d attempt murder. You finally stopped and lay there, sprawled on your back, heaving from the rush. It was kind of…fun?

Theo rolled down right next to you, laughing, as he sat upright. There was grass in his curly, brunette hair that you couldn’t help but reach out to pluck. He looked away quite shyly. Did your eyes deceive you, or did he just blush? You must have heat stroke. Good thing you had your wet clothes to keep you cool: they were significantly drier now.

You stand up and Theo starts laughing in a way you’ve never heard him laugh before. It was almost…endearing?

You put your hands on your hips teasingly and ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He chuckles affectionately. “Mio angioletto, you have something…everywhere.” He bursts into laughter again. “Beware grass woman rising from the Italian hills,” he gasps through his fits of laughter.

You couldn’t help but smile so wide; his happiness was almost as contagious as his teasing.

You look down and realize the grass was sticking all over your outfit, covering you in verdant greeness. There was an itching sensation bubbling to your skin, but you ignored it. You couldn’t help but join in with his laughter as you could imagine you looked like green Chewbacca.

“Is this your sick way of tar and feathering me, Nott?”

He recovers from his laughter and stands up with you, peeling a wet blade of grass from your cheek.

“Alas, you have uncovered my motives,” he teases, grinning.

“Well, your actual motives didn’t work. I’m still sopping wet.” You wringe out the side of your shirt for dramatic affect as it produces a downpour of water.

“There’s more to my motives, mio angioletto. If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.” He grasps your hand again with a beautiful look on his glowing face and pulls you up to do it all over again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until the sun is caressing the distant hills, getting ready for its nightly departure. The sky is painted shades of teal and purple; still bright but just so. The breeze is still gentle, and so is Theo’s hold on your hand, as he guides you back to his tree by the wretched pond.

Don’t ask yourself what you and him were at the moment. Don’t ask yourself how years of rivalry and pranks. Of stress related to the both of your never-relenting efforts to beat the other. Don’t ask how that all faded away, as you sat in the setting sun.

Unfortunately, it isn’t in your nature to just ignore logic. And Theo knew it. So he distanced himself from you in light of the passing moment of rolling down flower dotted hills, letting go of your hand. It was as if an igniting flame in your heart had been stifled. He sat across from you by the tree. A silence falling between you two.

The slight itching you had felt earlier had been slowly increasing, and as the fun fell away, it began grabbing your attention. The feeling was in your throat now…something wasn’t right. And that’s when you remembered something that Theo’s warm presence had melted away from your mind. As if your brain had tricked itself to forget about this important fact to permit you and Theo’s fun. You were allergic to wildflowers. If exposed to them for a long time? Horribly allergic.

You started coughing and then choking, pointing to your neck to alert Theo to the problem. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening…he had noticed your uncharacteristically red skin, but he had dismissed it by thinking it was the sun’s doing. How could he overlook this?

Your choking grew louder as you fell onto the grass, Theo scrambled around crazily not knowing what to do in his initial panic.

But then he remembered

He pulled out his wand and cast a healing spell which would diminish every affect of an allergic reaction. You started being able to breathe again and your throat cleared, along with your skin returning to its original color and texture. You were gasping in shock, slightly embarrassed that you had been in such pathetic situations in front of Theodore twice today. You were both holding each others’ arms and breathing deeply. You recovered slightly, attempting to lighten the tense mood.

“Well, if your true motive was to kill me, Nott, I’d say you almost succeeded.” You let out a weak, unconvincing laugh.

“I..I am so sorry, y/n, I genuinely didn’t know..” he looked crestfallen. More shaken than you in fact. Wait a minute…

“Hold on,” you raised an eyebrow, your shock of almost dying completely gone and replaced with a new shock. “I thought you said you didn’t have your wand?”

Theo’s eyes widened sheepishly and he grinned, looking as guilty as ever.

“Ok listen before you throw a fit-“

“I don’t throw fits, I diplomatically argue.”

“Before you throw a tantrum, let me explain.” Theo runs his fingers through his hair looking nervous, and, for the first time, failing to make eye contact.

“I just…I knew you’d leave if I just dried you off. You only stayed because you needed help and, well…” he sighs.

“Well?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you all summer, y/n. I lay awake all night and I day dream all day. I swear I even saw you in the stars..” he gives a nervous, strained laugh.

“You never leave my thoughts, but I was sure it was just because I had to prove myself. To beat you. But you didn’t even leave my brain after school ended. You haunt me every day. When I saw you I thought I was hallucinating, like, genuinely.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking the most vulnerable he’s ever looked.

You look at him, eyes blazing with emotions you had denied yourself. Emotions that fought to be seen but you always pushed them back. You couldn’t fight back anymore. What were you even fighting against? God, you had some serious issues.

“And so you lied to make me stay?”

Theo nodded, looking to the side, up at the darkening sky.

“Maybe it was the universe that brought me here, because what are the fucking odds?”

You both laughed at that, eyes shining despite the escaping light around you.

“Theo, in my last 3 days I’ve been in your beautiful home country, I’ve visited so many places. The Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Uffizi Galleries. So many amazing places, and I’ve experienced the most inspiring ordeals. But today was, by far, my favorite day.”

Theo regains his composure after hearing that, playfully judging her with his shoulder .

“Because of me, hm?”

You roll your eyes, looking away.

“Say it, principessa..” he prompted, gently holding your face and focusing it towards him.

You dramatically sigh and admit, “Yes, Theodore Nott. Because of you.”

He smiled the most breathtaking smile. If only you could capture a picture of it, but unfortunately your camera went down with the Vespa. You lay your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut, so that his bright smile could be engraved into your mind. Definitely a core memory.

After many moments of comfortable silence, Theo perks up.

“Oh! By the way, dolcezza, I realized I said the pickup line wrong when you struggled out of the swamp.”

You rolled your eyes at his impertinence and said, “First of all, it’s a pond, Theo. And second of all I did NOT struggle. I emerged like Aphrodite in a shell.”

“Ok my little swamp monster,” he annoyingly nuzzled his nose into your hair as you fought to hold back a giggle.

“Okok let me say the line.”

“Go ahead, Theo.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Because you have the face of un angelo.”

He grinned his shit-eating grin as you pretended to retch at the line. Jumping up with the fireflies around you, you tagged Theo, reigniting that competitive streak you both so closely shared. You both laughed like maniacs as you raced up the hill again, fireflies dancing around you in a waltz.

[720am]

M A S T E R L I S T

for losing as much as possible in a short amount of time (cuz we are all desperate), from me - a biotechnologist, who relapsed (the demons never leave)

the tips i am about to share with all my girliepops are all based on science and work; if you have any other tips, feel free to share in the comments, so we can have all the tips in one place!

• eat your meals from smaller sized plates, to trick your brain you are eating more

• cut up your food into small pieces

• chew every bite at least 10-15 times, until it is a purée consistency; this way you will be eating slower and give your brain more time to realise you are full

• sip water with a lemon slice between your bites

• focus on eating vegetables and protein, limit carbs

• drink a lot of water, and I mean a lot

• add lemon slices to your water to make it have some flavour; also the lemon juice in water before your meals will help reduce the glucose spike => less insulin released from liver => less absorbed glucose from carbs/sugars/starches => less fat on your body

• move for 10 mins right after eating - walk, do calf raises, some light movement so all the glucose can be used before getting stored as fat on your body

• drink tea - green tea, detox tea, whatever tea, without a sweetener

• do not drink diet sodas/colas - or any kind of liquid that is not water/tea - these are useless calories, why would you do that to yourselves?! even if it says 0 cals - this s#it is so bad for you, and the carbonation makes you feel bloated like a god damn whale! ditch the diet sodas girliepops

• implement some kind of movement every day - walking, pilates, yoga, dance workouts, resistance bands workouts or stretching

• do not weigh yourself everyday - due to hormones our weigh fluctuates every day and this will just make you feel bad if you lose and gain 1-2 legs everyday depending on your menstrual cycle, water weight and so on.. weigh yourself every 2 weeks.

• do not drink fruit juice - this is such a scam; hear me out: how many oranges does it take to make 1 glass of orange juice? around 3. can you eat three whole oranges in one sitting? i bet no. then why would you drink 3 oranges? when you make fruit juice, all the fibre and the pulp is removed, leaving you with just the juice with all the sugar in it (in the form of glucose and fructose) so you are basically drinking pure sugar, which turns into fat… just eat your damned fruit, instead of drinking a bunch of empty calories

• take red cranberry supplements - they are usually taken for UTIs, but the red cranberry has diuretic effect, and will make you pee your water weight out; please do not take more than 2 pills and remember to drink plenty of water so you don’t damage your kidneys!!!!

• take probiotics - this will ensure your gut health stays good while restricting foods, so you don’t end up constipated and bloated

• i personally do not eat dairy products (i am lactose intolerant) - they are full of hormones from the cows, give you acne and inflammation, and the protein in it is not worth it considering the amount of fat these products have; skip the dairy if you can

• if you drink a lot of coffee, remember to drink plenty of water! coffee has a diuretic effect and if you are not drinking more water, it will make you retain whatever water is in your body, leading to water weight gain

• if you end up binging, do so mindfully - do not give in to all the food, just have a piece of chocolate, not the whole chocolate bar; have a piece of cake, not the whole cake; then get back on track and try to exercise as much as possible to burn the excess calories

• i think this is obvious but let me say it just in case - in order to lose weight, you have to be on a calorie deficit - meaning you burn/use more calories than you consume; but!! here is the trick - you have to maintain low calorie diet, do not ⭐️ve for more than 2 days, as this will f#ck up your metabolism - your body goes into fight or flight response, meaning everything you eat after f4sting will remain on your body as a reserve of food, in case you end up ⭐️ving again; so have your veggies and protein (chicken breasts, white fish)

• keep yourself busy so you don’t think about f0od - study, work, read books, journal, whatever it is, your day has to be full of activities do you can forget to e4t

• reject offered food - say you already ate / yr not hungry / you are allergic to some ingredient / you have a bad migraine and this will make it worse / or take the food and say you will have it later and just give it to someone else (pls don’t throw in trash, do not waste food)

• when eating with family / boyfriend - place food in a smaller plate, cut up food into very small pieces and eat very slowly and chew every bite for a long time, sip water between every few bites, then say you are full and cannot eat anymore / that you ate a bit earlier and yr full

• when eating, eat your veggies first, then your protein and eat the smallest amount of carbs - always leave leftover carbs in your plate

• do not eat any snacks - no cereal bars, no cereal, no chips, no crisps, no crackers, no salty sticks, just do not eat snacks!

• if you feel like eating - drink water first, then have veggies (cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, radishes, etc) or fruit (apples, citrus, any kind of berries)

• if you are having breakfast - always eat a savoury breakfast - eggs, avocado, veggies etc; never eat a sweet breakfast - cereal, croissants, pancakes, etc, this will spike up your glucose levels and all that sugar will turn into fat; a sweet breakfast will make you feel tired and exhausted all day, leading you to eat more

• wear a waist trainer - do so for no more than 8hrs a day; this will also help you have smaller portions of food, as it won’t allow your stomach to expand

• do not purge - this is very bad for your teeth and overall health; the stomach acid is very strong and every time you purge, your teeth are getting damaged; just don’t overeat in the first place and have self control!

this is all i have for right now; if i think of anything else, i will add later / make another post; if you have anything to add to this list - go ahead and do so in the comments below

remember, stay safe xx

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hotel Voluptas: Check(ed) In (You)

voluptas (latin; noun): pleasure, satisfaction, delight

pairing: idol!Mingyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers!AU (sorta) - minors dni.

warnings: hotel sex, oral (both receiving) protected sex, mean dom!mingyu, degradation, mild jealousy (reader is a carat and her bias ain't gyu lmao), spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms and positions, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, dirty talk, use of petnames, mentions of threesome, mentions of panic attack (it's not actually happening dw)

word count: 4k

summary: you're just a regular tourist in Seoul who visits a regular hotel to spend your nights. except the hotel isn't your regular one - let alone its patrons and needs.

Author's note: this is an altered version of a mingyu dream i had a few nights ago msdnfsmnfs thank you to @playmetheclassics for coming up with the title and @idyllic-ghost for beta-reading this fic 💕

nsfw taglist: @rosecult​​ @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @lovelyhan @luvv4svt @novalpha @wonderfulshinee @foxinnie8 @sstarrysshit @threedalla @enhacolor @seuomo @spk93 @snoozeagustd @strawberryya

unable to tag: @kkakkameori @patisseriam @0717luv @coachukaishairband

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Good evening, sir Lee. The usual?” 

“You know me, Hyun,” the man clad in total black clothing whips out his credit card to slide over the machine, the familiar sound of the accepted payment ringing like music to his ears.

“We’re all good! Here’s your key, sir.” The receptionist hands over the key to the unknown man and the latter heads off with a slight nod. A couple of bills is all he leaves behind for the receptionist - a thank you gift for his continuous discretion.

Lee Saejin. That was the registered name for the room reservation.

But it’s obviously a fake name - besides, nobody would really care if a random guy was staying over in a hotel surrounded by oddly well-kept rumors. 

But the idol Kim Mingyu spending his nights off in this hotel, sleeping in the arms of a different person every time he visits? Press scandal worthy, to say the least.

So he settles with a silly fake name and escapes through the danger exit doors - not that he minds, when he gets much needed sexual relief after hellish weeks of tight-packed schedules.

All of the stressful thoughts are discarded once he steps into the room and he’s met with a gorgeous lady, sipping on what seems to be expensive champagne.

“Hey there,” Mingyu greets the woman as he discards his coat and takes the hem of his shirt to remove it.

“Let me do the dirty work, mister,” she gets up and holds his wrists, gently peeling them off the fabric so she can take it off herself, “Can’t have you doing more work than you already do, right?”

“As if you haven’t been working your pretty ass off, sweetheart,” he smirks and pulls her flush to his body, his hands kneading her ass over the silky dress.

“I think we should do less talking-”

“And more fucking?” 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Ugh, why is it so hard to find a decent hotel at a decent price?!”

You want to slam your laptop on the table and crush it into tiny pieces. You have one chance to go to South Korea and the only thing that’s stopping you is finding a damn hotel to stay in.

It’s either an over-the-top super expensive hotel that you need to sell both of your kidneys to afford a couple of nights or it’s a very dingy motel in a suspicious neighborhood.

“No….Not this one….Definitely not this one….Not this one either….”

Suddenly your eyes fall on a neat-looking hotel, with a very good score in reviews.

“Oh? Perhaps?” You scroll through the pictures of the site, the hotel rooms looking exactly like what you’ve been looking for - it almost feels like it’s too good to be true.

You check out the reviews and a few giggles escape from your lips while reading them.

“You will not regret staying in this hotel ;)”

“10/10 would go visit again, spent the best nights of my LIFE”

“you’ll literally spot celebrities in there I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING”

“Celebrities? Wow, people have a lot of humor,” you chuckle, “But it’s a pretty good hotel - Got nothing to lose, right?”

You don’t hesitate to book a room with a double bed (a girl just wants to lay like a starfish) and pay with your credit card, the booking confirmation arriving in your mail inbox shortly after. You proceed to book your flight tickets with a beaming smile on your face, excitement coursing through your entire body in the forms of jitters.

I’m gonna have so much fun.

You feel like you were put in the blender and got splattered on the floor.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t traveled by plane in a long time, maybe it was the duration of the flight, or a combination of the two - either way, you just wanted to faceplant in the mattress of the hotel bed.

You feel very grateful to the taxi driver who offered to carry your suitcase until the entrance of the hotel. You thank him for the ride and hand over the corresponding amount of money, bidding him farewell.

You walk through the glass doors of the hotel and you suddenly feel very much awake.

The whole place feels so luxurious yet not intimidating, as if it’s calling you to explore its deepest parts. You look around you and see people waiting at the lobby, the majority of them wearing face masks and you feel conscious for not wearing one.

You timidly approach the reception counter, dragging your suitcase behind you. You ring the bell on the marble counter and wait for someone to appear.

“Good evening, miss. What can I do for you?” The receptionist appears and you’re blown away from how dashing he looks.

“Um, hello, I’ve booked a room under the name Y/N L/N? I-It’s one with a-”

“A double bed, yes, I am aware,” the man chuckles, “It’s not like we have single beds in this hotel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that the rooms in our hotel do not have single beds.”

You blink twice. Is he serious right now?

“Um,” you scratch your cheek, “May I ask why?”

“Miss Y/N, are you aware of the services we provide here?”

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t this just a regular hotel where people spend a few nights to rest after visiting Seoul?” 

He takes a quick glance left and right and moves his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion and you inch closer, purely out of curiosity.

“Do you see all those people waiting here?” 

You nod in agreement.

“They wear facial masks because they don’t want to be recognized in public.”

Your eyes go wide and your brain recalls all of the reviews you read online - they were fucking true.

“Are you saying that they come here to fuck?!”

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud!” he shushes you in a panic, “But yeah, that’s what they’re here for -  that’s what this hotel is for, technically.”

Just your fucking luck.

“There was none of that crap on the website!” You whisper in a state of panic.

“What did you expect, miss? To write ‘hello we have rooms for you to fuck your brains out with other people’?” He deadpans with a straight face.

“Okay fine, you have a point,” you huff in annoyance, “But isn’t that, like….Illegal?”

“Illegal? Oh no no, there are no sex workers here, only people of high social profile who want to have a good time,” he clarifies, “We’re just the confidential party who run this hotel.”

“So, um..” you trail off, “Does that mean I’m obligated to share a room with someone here?”

“Of course not! You did book a room for one person, after all.”

“Okay….” you answer and think for a while, but your thoughts are as clear as a cobweb.

“You can call me Hyunjin, by the way.” The receptionist introduces himself after a long time.

You give him a quick smile and go back to the ordeal of putting your thoughts in a coherent order.

“Hey, Hyunjin?”

“Yes?”

“Do idols come here too?” 

The man licks his lips before smirking.

“I am not allowed to disclose such information, my dear.”

“So they do,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Again, I am not allowed to disclose such information.”

“Fine, I’ll find out for myself, then.” You muster up your confidence.

“Excellent,” Hyunjin smiles and pulls out a piece of paper and a tablet, “Want me to hand you over a pen?”

“Yes please,” you answer without lifting your head from the papers you’re reading, quickly realizing it is indeed, a NDA. Of course they would have those.

You carefully check all of the pages (including the footnotes) and you sign the NDA without a fuss, Hyunjin’s signature following right after.

“What’s that for?” You look at the bright screen, filled with a list of names and X marks.

“This is where we store the information of our regular clients and the rooms they usually stay in,” he explains, “The X marks next to the names you see indicate that these people are already with someone…If you get what I mean. Also, there are the gender symbols to indicate...well, their gender.”

A notification comes up in your phone and you slide it out of your pocket, mumbling a quick sorry to Hyunjin, so you can text your friend back that you made it safely to Seoul. The man takes a quick glance at your phone case, pursing his lips tight.

“Okay, where were we? The clients, right?”

“Yes. That is, if you want to try meeting one of them - You can always keep your reservation as it is and quietly spend your nights here on your double bed.”

“Well,” you bite your bottom lip, “I’m a single girl in Seoul to have fun, might as well get laid with someone hot, right?” You tilt your head in a cheeky way.

“As you wish, miss - Have you decided on who you’re gonna pick?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” 

You carefully check the list with all the unmatched names and your eyes fixate on the name Lee Saejin.

“This one.”

Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to be surprised, but he’s only allowed to nod and do the reservations.

“You just had a really weird expression on your face.”

“Who, me? Nope, definitely not!” He defends himself while trying to put down the necessary information to complete the process.

“What’s wrong with the name I picked?”

“Nothing at all,” he bites back a smile, “On the contrary, you picked a really good one.”

“Okay….” you side eye him, “Can I go now?”

“You’re too eager for someone who looked like splattered jam on the floor not too long ago.” He hands you over the card key for the room.

“You’re one peculiar receptionist,” you take the key and drag your suitcase on the smooth floor.

“Hope you enjoy your stay in Hotel Voluptas, miss!” Hyunjin yells before you disappear behind the elevator doors, which earns him a few irritated glares from other guests. He clears his throat and absentmindedly smooths over his hair and clothes, going back to his business

“Hoo boy, she’s in for a real treat.”

You feel like a lunatic.

If anyone else was in your shoes, they would have run the fuck out of this place and take the first flight back home. 

But you feel excited. Almost ecstatic.

You never thought the reviews/rumors you had heard about Hotel Voluptas were actually true but now that you’re one step away from finding out who Lee Saejin truly is.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and check underneath your shirt to make sure you’re wearing a pretty lingerie set - just in case, you know.

You slide the card key over the electronic lock and the door opens. You enter the room and you quickly realize there’s nobody inside.

“Huh? That’s weird,” you close the door behind you and set your suitcase next to the wardrobe. You take a look around the room, noticing how neat and pristine it looks. You sit on the bed and touch the sheets, your palm gliding over the silk.

“Damn, that’s real luxury right here.” You let out a low whistle.

“You should see the jacuzzi, that’s peak luxury.”

The unknown voice scares you so much you end up falling down on the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Ouch…”

“Shit, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” The stranger bends down to help you stand on your feet, your ass slightly stinging from the sudden impact.

“Yeah, I think so-” you raise your head and look at his face, any coherent sentence dying down in your throat and any rational thought disappearing from your brain.

The man standing in front of you - the half naked man - is Kim Mingyu.

Kim fucking Mingyu of Seventeen.

You cover your mouth in shock, sitting on the bed to realize what the fuck is going on.

“You must be Y/N, right?” Mingyu speaks.

“No, I’m not.”

“What? But I’m sure Hyunjin sent me the correct info…”

“Wait, my info?!”

“Um, yeah. For the NDA, y’know?”

“Oh. Right.”

You don’t know if you want to jump out of the window or jump his bones right this instant.

“I know this is sudden, but that’s how things work in here,” he flashes his signature smile, his perfectly white canines shining brighter than your future.

“Is this even real?”

“You can always touch me, y’know?”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Wait, I mean yeah- Shit, I-”

“Do you need some time alone? I’m kind of worried right now,” Mingyu admits with a nervous look, “I don’t want you to panic right now.”

“I just- Hyunjin did tell me that celebrities come here, but I didn’t expect to see YOU of all people!” You admit with a wheeze.

“I mean, I am a guy with sexual needs as well.” He lets out a chuckle.

“But you were supposed to be at your dorms and resting!”

“Says who?”

“The news channel live…..You left the airport with the members in the cars….So I assumed you….” You trail off, your voice getting quieter.

“So you’re a fan, huh,” he smirks, “That makes it even better.”

“Y-Yeah, hence the shock….”

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Oh, so now you’re gonna pull the shit you do at fansigns, huh?” Your demeanor changes as you sit up on the bed.

“Is it working?” He towers over you, adjusting the towel around his waist, your eyes zoning on the water droplets cascading from his beefy chest all the way down to his v-line.

“Maybe.” You admit and you feel your cheeks flaring up as he climbs on the bed, his body frame hovering above yours.

“Good, that means my game is still going strong.”

“Or your fans are way too whipped for you.”

“You’re not a gyuldaengie?”

Fuck, wrong move.

“Who is it, darling?”

“Not telling you.” You challenge him.

“No need to tell me, I already know either way.” He grins like an imp as he stretches his arm to pick up your phone from the floor.

“Wonwoo hyung, huh?”

“Hey, give that back!” You try to take the phone back, but he pins your wrists above your head with his hand.

“You wish he was here instead of me?”

“And what about it?”

“Too bad he’s a fucking loser who does gaming lives for his fans.”

“Shut up, I love those!”

“Of course you do - It’s just that fucking pretty girls like you is way more fun, don’t you think?”

You let out a shaky breath at his words -  Kim Mingyu just called you pretty and it has you melting on the spot.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks you with a whisper.

“Please.”

It’s all Mingyu needs to put his lips on yours, his hands now perched on your clothed body, fingers dancing dangerously around the hem of your shirt.

“Just take it off already!” You squirm underneath him.

“So demanding, tsk…” He takes off your shirt and unbuttons your jeans, leaving you only in your lingerie.

“Demanding yet dressed for the occasion, I see.”

“It was coincidental!” You defend yourself, “I just like wearing pretty underwear, is that bad?”

“Not at all, darling,” he licks his bottom lip, “I always appreciate pretty things on pretty people.”

He presses a chaste kiss on the column on your neck, and another one on your collarbone, and a lot more scattered over your chest and abdomen, paying extra attention to your lower stomach, just above the hem of your thong.

“G-Gyu-”

“Oh so we’re on a nickname basis now?” Mingyu hooks his fingers on the thin elastic band and slides it down your legs, letting out a whistle when he spreads your thighs all the way to your hip bones.

“Not that I mind you calling me Gyu, obviously.”

“You’re so insufferable, oh my God, just lic- AH!”

You moan out loud when he parts your lower lips with his thumbs and starts sucking on your clit. 

You thread your hands in his silky black hair, pulling it each time he presses his tongue a bit harder on the spots that make you squirm beneath him. 

You always knew Mingyu had very attractive lips, but feeling them making out with your pussy in such a sloppy manner makes your head spin.

You let out a particularly loud moan when you feel his thumb stretch your hole, all while he spits on your clit just to lick it even harder than before, followed by a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck!” Your thighs squirm and almost close around his head, but he keeps them open with his arms, his chocolate eyes staring at you.

“You’re really squirmish, aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault-”

“That I’m eating your pussy so good you don’t want me to stop?”

God, you really want to slap him. But he’s right.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, darling?”

“You stopped eating my pussy.”

Mingyu clicks his tongue in annoyance and flips you around, lifts your ass and goes back to eat you out like a starved animal. 

“Oh my- Fuck, it feels so fucking good, Gyu!”

“Oh yeah? Would Wonwoo hyung eat you like this?” He smacks your ass.

“Mmmfh-”

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He smacks your ass again, a bit harder this time.

“I won’t fucking tell you!”

“Bratty little bitch,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and gets up from his place, circling the bed to stand in front of you, finally dropping his towel.

Big would be too little of a word to describe what hangs between his legs.

You gulp audibly, mouth salivating at the sight of his deliciously thick cock, your insides jolting at the thought of his length splitting you in half.

“What, you see a nice dick and turn all dumb and drooly?” He pumps his cock with his fist right in front of your face.

You crawl a bit closer to him and slap his hand away to wrap your lips around the fat tip, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth. 

“You’re so much more eager than I thought, sweetheart,” Mingyu groans and puts his hand deep in your hair, “Would you suck Wonwoo’s cock like that too, darling?”

“I’d suck it harder,” you take out his cock and stroke it with your hand, a shit-eating grin on your face, “Does that answer your question?”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and slaps your cheek with his cock twice before he’s pushing you on your back again.

“Well too bad he’s not here now.” He opens one of the nightstand drawers and pulls out a condom, ripping the packaging with his teeth to roll the latex over his cock.

He climbs on the bed again and throws your legs on his shoulders, tapping his dick on your slicked cunt a few times.

“I’ll just fuck you to oblivion instead.”

“Now I know why everyone calls you an overgrown puppy,” you giggle, “You’re all bark and no bite, Gyu.”

Your lips morph into an ‘O’ shape when Mingyu slams his dick inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I’ve had enough of you running your mouth all evening,” he grits his teeth and tugs your bra down, letting your breasts out of the lace, “For someone who was so shocked to find out that people fuck in this place, you’re awfully bratty.”

“Then fuck the attitude out of me, big guy,” you taunt him, “Just like you’ve been boasting all evening.”

“With pleasure.”

Mingyu folds you in half and starts drilling his cock in your pussy with a newfound hunger, all the exhaustion he had accumulated from the flight gone in the blink of an eye.

“Your pussy is so fucking good, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans and gropes your tits, his big hands squeezing the soft flesh.

“Your cock fucks me so good, Gyu, you’re so good to me, fuck!” You grip the sheets, nails digging into the silk.

“Oh yeah? Dick so good you’re not thinking about that bias of yours anymore?”

Your pussy clenches around his shaft, Mingyu’s eyes turning hooded.

"You greedy little slut," he juts his hips a bit more forcefully, "You would love to fuck Wonwoo, wouldn't you?"

Yes, you definitely would - you can't even bring yourself to count the times you've thirsted over the cat-like man in glasses for the most dumb reasons.

"Of course a pretty slut like you cannot be satisfied with one dick," he speeds up his thrusts, "Need something to fill your bratty mouth with, right?"

"F-Fuck, yes!" You cry out, thighs starting to tense on his shoulders.

"Maybe I should take a picture of you sucking my dick like a lolly and send it to hyung," he taunts you, "Show him what his fans are actually doing in their free time."

"Shit, Gyu!" You scream Mingyu's name and your back arches off the mattress as you cum around his cock, giving him the green light to fuck you through your orgasm, while he chases his own.

It doesn't take him long to tip off the edge and reach his own climax, filling up the condom with his cum. He quickly discards the soiled latex in the trash bin under the nightstand and lays right next to you, a wicked smile playing on his face.

"Why are you smiling like th- Oof!" You gasp when he pulls you flush to his chest and throws your leg over his hip, burying two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

He rapidly fucks his digits in your spent hole as he grinds his palm on your clit, trying to force one more orgasm out of your body.

And he does.

He watches your body shake harder than before and you squirt all over his hand and thighs, eyes nearly rolling at the back of your skull from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers and licks them clean with his mouth, letting them go with a lewd sound. 

"W-What….was that for?" You pant.

"For good measure." He grins.

"....Manwhore." You curse under your breath and Mingyu lands a smack on your pussy, making you yelp from the impact.

"Says the girl who wants to fuck two idols of the same group."

"And what about it?! A girl can always 

dream!" You protest.

"Some dreams can become a reality," he says, "That is, if you ask the right people."

"You're not actually thinking of sending him a post-sex image, are you?!"

"Are you crazy? Of course not, that NDA has my signature too, missy," he deadpans, "I just said that to rile you up."

"Of course you did." You roll your eyes at him.

"So….how long are you staying in Seoul?"

"A week," you reply, "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking…." Mingyu trails one finger on your collarbone.

"Yes?"

"If I convince that loser of a hyung I have as my roommate to get out of his gaming chair, maybe you'll get to live your dirty little fantasy."

"Are you- Is this a joke? Because if you're fucking with me, you better drop it."

"I'm 100% serious, love," he dips his finger on the valley of your breasts, "As long as everyone consents to it, I'm down to share. If you behave as well, of course."

You don't hesitate to nod affirmatively and climb on top of him, giving him a passionate kiss as a thank you.

"There's something you need to know though." 

"What is it, darling?"

"I have an IUD and I'm clean, got checked last month."

Mingyu blinks twice and purses his lips in a thin line.

"You better prepare yourself for next time, sweetheart," he grips your ass, "And don't worry about our little playdate getting out of here." He presses a kiss on your neck.

"What happens in Hotel Voluptas, stays in Hotel Voluptas."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest. 

“Ade,” you huff. 

She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?” 

Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.” 

One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing. 

“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?” 

You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother. 

“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.” 

“Best days of my life,” you agree. 

“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says. 

As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears. 

“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires. 

Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences. 

“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.” 

“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.” 

“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--” 

“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.” 

“That’s not fair,” Kitty says. 

“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?” 

“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues. 

You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.” 

“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists. 

“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.  

You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting. 

That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince. 

“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?” 

She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.

Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?” 

You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you. 

You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all. 

As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working. 

You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all. 

You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick. 

It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair. 

Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils. 

You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got. 

You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night. 

You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous. 

Is death so bad when living is terrifying? 

You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries. 

“You. Come.” He orders you. 

You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous. 

“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.” 

You look down. “My shoes...” 

“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms. 

You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking. 

“Is it my father?” You ask. 

“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway. 

You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you. 

“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.” 

You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.