#wrote this with a headache. if you can tell then im so sorry

[deadduvznap]

jayhoon having angry sex. and blood. - (your favorite) omega anon

this has been sitting in my drafts since i got it.

im a firm believer that jay doms hoon in every situation (including lore) and you cant convince me otherwise now listen okay hear me out its a situation where like prob after a concert or no during it lets say sunghoon is doing sm fanservice w the other members and jay gets mad and i mean PISSED at sunghoon and sunghoon knows but he cant do anything abt it he just keeps doing all that fan service w the other members so jay is PISSED and on the way to the hotel they are in different vans or wtv BUT. they share a room and hoon knows jays pissed so he begs the other boys to switch but they are all like nah man you did this to urself so hes like ah fuck so he finally goes into the room and he sneaks into the shower and when hes out jay is just sitting on the bed looking angry with a towel around his neck and waist and sunghoon just silently goes to sit on his bed before bed and he faces the other direction and jay is facing opposite of him so they r back to back and jay finally talks and hes like im mad at you hoon and hoon is like i know im sorry and jays like sorry isnt good enough blah blah blah hoons like ill give you apology head :( and jays like im still so mad at you but i cant turn down head so jay is sitting on the bed he forces hoon to the floor and hoon starts to go down on his dick and jay is PISSED hes sitting there towelless arms crossed his jaw clenched in anger sunghoon between his legs hes staring at hoon his eye twitching and hes like if you dont hurry the fuck up ill make you hurry and hoon knows how jay gets when hes angry and he doesnt want his head bashed in so hes getting to buisness he gathers the spit thats in his mouth and he opens his mouth and lets it drip (more like waterfall) onto jays cock, he then purses his lips and wraps them around the head of jays cock and he sucks HARD and jay jumps a bit cus he wasnt expecting it and it kinda hurt so he smacks hoon lightly, jokingly, on the head and goes what the fuck are you doing and hoon doesnt reply he just shoves his head down as far as it can go as fast as possible and jay folds over and chokes for a second before hoon comes back up and goes back down again and oh yeah is it too late to mention hoon doest have a gag reflex ? anyways jay is folded over his hand in hoons hair and hoon is bobbing his head up and down contemplating biting jays dick off, just because, but he decides against it and keeps going and before jays about to cum he pulls sunghoons head off his dick, quite hard actually and sunghoons is startled at the pain and the yank and he feels like his hair is about to get ripped off and jay is holding his hair in a TIGHT grip and he drags him on to the twin sized bed and sunghoon lets out cries of pain as he stands up hunched over at the hight jays hand is grabbing him and he has one hand gripping jays wrist and the other trying to push him away and his towel falls off and hes like what the fuck are you doing ??? let go of me ?? and jay is like shut the fuck up you deserve this and you know it and now sunghoon is getting angry because even though hes a sub and a bottom he doesnt like being yanked around like this and jay pushes him onto the bed and sunghoon is fucking seething hes naked and his dick is half hard and his head hurts but he cant do anything because if he tries to leave jays is gonna bash his head into a wall and he doesnt want that so jay flips him over onto his tummy and lifts his ass in the air and hes pretty bent in half becuse hes rlly flexible and sunghoon is really uncomfortable in that position but jay doesnt care he just wants to fuck sunghoon so hard he forgets about the other members and so he can forget his anger and not kill someone or break smth so he grabs the lotion thats sitting on the side table he used after he showered and he lubes up his dick and his fingers and shoves two of them in sunghoon pretty hard and hoon freaks out because it hurts and jay is like shut the actual fuck up i dont want to hear it right now and he sticks his dick in sunghoon and hoon shreiks in pain into the pillow he feels like

hes getting ripped open, the lotion isnt doing much at all for lube he feels the lotion dry up quickly and he feels like his insides are ripping open and he starts to cry and jay doesnt give a fuck hes using the blood dripping from hoons hole to lube up more but that doesnt do anything to help and jay lets out an annoyed groan and rolls his head back hes annoyed at sunghoon for crying so loudly and that the "lube" isnt working and he remembers what happened and now hes even angrier and he pulls out and walks over to his bag for a second and sunghoon relaxes his body for a second and he can see the blood starting to drip down his inner thigh before it quickly congeals and sticks to his skin and he sees the drops of blood on the sheets and he feels like hes gonna cry again and jay comes back and grabs his arm and flips him over and he almost falls off the side of the bed when jay yanks him back over to the middle and sunghoon cant do anything but be limp and space out and jay starts to lube himself and sunghoon up before he sticks his dick back in sunghoons hole again and sunghoon starts to cry as he lays against the bed and jay kind of feels bad but hes still pissed at him so he tosses his empathy into his mind vault and starts fucking the poor boy again and sunghoons body is limp as jay knocks into him hes flailing around as his vision is blurry and hes staring at jays face and he starts getting mad again he shouldve bitten this fuckers dick off when he had the chance and jay leans over him and sunghoon just sinks his teeth into jays... wherever it is as hard as possible and jay grunts and pushes sunghoons face away but sunghoon had already pierced the skin and the blood was starting to form little beads in the wound on his shoulder

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[spncvr]

scott street | remus lupin

summary: You return to your childhood home. Remus, your past love, unexpectedly returns. (based on the song scott street if that wasn’t obvious)

pairing: rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader (3rd person oops sorry)

warnings: is this.... angst?? idk but hurt/comfort!! no use of y/n bc i cannot write that and not die a little, and my terrible english i'm sure i mixed all the tenses up here guys sorry im tryinggg,, this is lowk cheesy as hell i feel like... LMAO

a/n: i was sick so i didn't go to school tdy but i wrote this banger oneshot (its 2,4k words can u belive?? longest thing ive ever written in english)

masterlist

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container

THE SUN SUNK behind the many leaves which hung lazily on the branches. Through the old sheer curtains, the breeze blows faint whispers. The room is tinged with a familiar feeling; as if the concrete used that constructed this house is laced with memories from the past. The memories all flooded back like tides in a vast ocean, rolling back and forth as they brought back recollections of days gone by.

This was where she had grown up. The small backyard, the one with grass that had used to touch her ankles, was where she had first learned how to do a cartwheel. The bed, unchanged since she had left, felt almost ancient. She remembered the time she had faked a headache to skip school and had spent the whole day in it; back then the bed had felt like the only place she had wanted to live in. 

This was where she fell in love. So much in love, that she could not seem to pinpoint the exact moment she had ever fallen out of it. Maybe she never did. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least.

The room’s walls are bare, and the old, washed-out wall once covered with posters of her favourite rock bands, no longer stands amongst the antique wallpaper. But his pictures were there. Their pictures. It seemed as though they were taunting her as it was propped up on the small table beside her bed. She picked one of them up, one that had stood out to her the most, and gazed at it.

She grew up without wealth. That was clear from the photo, where her top was much too big for her. Maybe it was her father’s; she can’t remember. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had his arms around her shoulders and a smile on his lips akin to those she’d seen of him on posters and TV screens. She missed when he’d shown it just for her to see.

I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can.It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan.

She tries to remember the moment or event that had taken place where they had taken the picture. And she almost forgets. It caused her to quickly put the picture back down, and a loud thud resonated between the calm sounds of home.

How could she forget? She felt like she was losing too much of herself. The part of herself that had lived here, one that had loved so freely and so openly, was slipping away so incredibly quickly—and suddenly she understood why her mother had cried when she chose a university so far off. She had almost forgotten a part of herself—a version of herself, that she seemed to have missed the most.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, still close to the picture she had put back down, only to look at it again, this time from afar. 

Of course, she remembers this moment. It had been her birthday, and he had taunted her mercilessly, telling her how she was just as old and frail as he was since she had always made fun of him for having his birthday at the start of the year and hers so close to the end. This may have contributed to the small roll of her eyes in the photo, but she was unable to control the grin that had painted itself on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Joking about being so incredibly old while being so young. She’d have given everything to be seventeen again if it meant being seventeen with him. 

Behind the picture, she had been staring at, was another one. And this time, she didn’t forget because, try as she might, she couldn’t.

She can’t seem to let go of the memory of the first time he kissed her, after a gig, a small one that he held with his mates at a pub not that far from here. She remembers how his skin was alight with adrenaline, and his gaze piercing. She couldn’t forget the moment when he told her that she had always been the one he loved not long after the picture, somewhere outside the pub, where the crisp chilly November breeze did not win against his palm that rested against her cheek.

Not long after, when he had brought her back to his, when he had kissed her silly. When she had realized that she really loved him too, and when the realization had hit her so hard, she had to loop her arms around his neck to keep herself upright, when there was only quiet in the house and all that could be heard was her gentle laughter and his sweet nothings, he had whispered in her ear so quietly, almost as if it were a secret, I would have been content to love you from a distance.

There, they were eighteen, fresh out of school and without the slightest idea where they’d go next. She had occasionally pondered what would have happened if they had more time, if they hadn’t both been so foolish, or, if they had both recognized how much it was they felt for one another sooner. But doing so would have made the parting even more painful than it already was. That was something she didn’t like to imagine.

She sighs and leaves the room. She needed to breathe.

Do you feel ashamed, When you hear my name?

ADMITTEDLY, REMUS DIDN'T think he’d ever come back. To Wales, yes, of course, it was his country (now more than ever). But not to this house. Not to her house. He couldn’t ever think straight, not when he knew that she was out there somewhere forgetting every minute detail about their past, and not when the love she’d once felt for him had long gone. But here he stands. 

He’s overthinking this. She probably isn’t even home.

She’s always told him when they were young that she wanted to leave.

One day, she had whispered to him in the darkness, when they were six, her favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between her arms, one day, we’ll be far away. Remus can’t remember whatever caused her to tell him this at such a young age, with such strong conviction. He thinks it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because her parents had refused to let her get ice cream after she’d finished all of her green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in her mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.

One day, she says again, when she’s thirteen because her teacher had failed her in her first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. I’ll go. I’ll leave. She had said it so firmly and so surely that it scares him sometimes. Because, really, they’ve never been anywhere but here—so sometimes, he asks his mirror, pretending that she’s staring back at him: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?

One day, she says again, when she’s seventeen because she has been looking at universities far off and away from Wales. He’d watch her as she’d stare at the campus pictures on the brochures their school had offered and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, he wondered if she ever pictures herself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—she’d be the smart one, the witty one. Sometimes, Remus wondered if she ever pictured him with her as she told him with the biggest smile on her face: One day, I’ll be there. Anytime soon.

She’s never liked it here. That much was always clear to Remus. Her books were the sole bright spot in her otherwise (as she put it) bleak existence. Always arranged in a way that only she could fully understand within the small bookshelf she had bought for herself with her first paycheck when she was saving up for Uni. Often, he wondered if she had brought them with her when she had left or whether she had left them here. No longer feeling the drag of her fingertips against its words. Abandoned by its only reader. 

And for a while, he had thought that he’d given her another reason to love the place they’d always called home. But he left her. So why, then, would she ever choose to stay? Books could only last for so long.

Just knock, he curses to himself. Say hello to her parents. Tell them that you wanted to see how they were doing. 

And just when he’s about to finally get it over with, the door opens.

And she’s there.

She looks different. Hair cut short and brushed neatly. Her clothes fit her nicely. It feels kind of jarring. He doesn’t really know what to expect. He’d been half-expecting to see the girl who had her hair always tied up in a ponytail that didn’t do much, with the amount of hair that was always falling out of it or the girl who wore oversized band shirts that belonged to her father, along with the sneakers she’d been using ever since her feet had stopped growing—the girl who was so full of life it felt nearly impossible not to love her. It was silly, really. Of course, she’d changed. It’s been four years. 

“Remus?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’re you doing here?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again. What was he doing here?

“I’m—” he starts but pauses for a while to come up with an answer, “I didn’t know you still lived here.”

“I don’t,” she says, plainly.

“Oh.” he breathes, she’s always been forward, “Well, I’m here for holiday.”

“Yeah . . . yeah me too.”

He rocks on the heels of his foot back and forth, “I just— wanted to know how your parents are doing.”

She purses her lips, “Oh. Well, Dad’s doing alright, I bought him a bunch of LPs—some of them yours, actually. And Mum’s still trying to get used to me being back here. She’s cooked a thousand meals.”

“That’s good to know,” he nods, smiling, because sometimes, she has no idea the effect she has on people. “I’m glad they’re alright.”

“How’ve you been?” she inquires, “Heard you’re not doing too bad in your band thing.”

He laughs softly, “It’s been alright.”

She smiles, for the first time he’s talked to her, and shakes her head softly, “Modest as always. Send the lads my love.”

“I missed you,” he tells her. And it spills from his tongue so quickly, before he could even think about it. She needed to know, somehow, that he couldn’t shake her off his mind. He played for her, wrote for her and of her. And sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night he swears he could feel her shadow brush his hand, he hoped and prayed to whatever God that was making him feel so incredibly homesick, that she’d been listening to the songs he’d written.

He could only hope that she’d understand the undertone of his words.

She looks at him with this look that seems to pierce through time, reaching back into the past, unwanting to let go. Then, there was this beat of silence; one long enough for him to hear everything that had been left unsaid.

She looks at him, her honey-laced lips slightly parted. “Do you want to come in?” She sounds hesitant as she steps aside, letting him through.

He nods as he follows her in.

The house felt achingly familiar, yet everything felt and seemed different. The walls were the same colour, and the couch that had always looked somewhat old still stood in the exact same place it had four years ago, with new cushions adorning it. The air felt thicker. She always had that effect on him, he supposes.

“Tea?” she offers, a smile playing on her lips, as she leads him into the kitchen.

“Always,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

She turns her back to him to make tea and he feels like he’s missing her all over again. He’s watching her move, taking the tea kettle and suddenly he’s sixteen again, when he’d brought James, Sirius and Pete here because they’d had run into trouble with the police—well, admittedly, it was just James and Sirius, but the four boys had never failed to stick together—and the first thing she’d asked them when she saw all four of them at her doorstep late at night is if they’d like some tea.

“How long are you staying?” she asks, back still turned. “A few weeks,” he says, “Got a bit of a break before the next tour.”

When she handed him a cup, he noticed how even her arms and the tips of her fingers had changed. She looks good, beautiful. 

“So, how’s life been?” she asks, taking a sip.

“Busy,” he replies, “Touring, recording, writing. It’s a lot, but it’s what I love.”

“I’ve been listening to your music,” she admits when he sips her tea. It’s exactly how he likes it. “It’s good, Remus. Really good.”

Remus looks down at his shoes, “Thank you,” then, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns, “What for?” “For leaving,” his voice, barely a whisper, “for everything.”

“Oh, Remus,” she sighs as she puts her cup down on the kitchen counter, “no, you had to go. It was your dream—I mean, look at you. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he says again. Because she had smiled at him the same way she did all those years ago in that pub.

And this time, she says it back.

They spent the rest of the day talking and, at times reminiscing, catching up on their lives, and it felt like no time had passed, like they were the same two kids who had believed in forever. As the sky turned dark, and the light from the lamp in the living room spilt against the floors of her house, she had looked at him—that same look she had always given him five, six years ago before asked him, quietly:

“Will you stay?”

Remus smiles, his heart full, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Anyway, don’t be a stranger

likes and reblogs r appriciated! <3 also i just learned what a taglist is,, so lmk if u wanna be included in my remus one :D

[m1lflov3rrr]

Hi hiiiiii! Firstly, lemme just say I absolutely ADORE your fics on wattpad and im SO thrilled you're also here on tumblr now??!?!? An absolute treat, this is <3

Anyways as for requests— can I request Larissa and/or Marilyn dealing with Y/N who's got a really bad sleeping schedule thanks to having the WORST case of insomnia? (fluff most appreciated, but IF you want somth more spicy to deal it, I wouldn't say no to it hehe 💕 :3c)

Thank you sm <3

Thank you for the request and so sorry it took literally MONTHS!!! But here it is now!! And thank you for your kind words, means so much to me <3 I really hope you enjoy this, I made a few changes to it. I don’t have that much experience with insomnia, but with sleep deprivation so I wrote about that, I hope it is okay!

No Rest for the Wicked

Pairing: Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: sleep deprivation, health issues, fainting, worrying, fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Larissa tries to help you when she notices how little you’re sleeping…

You sighed deeply as you raised your gaze from your laptop and looked out the window. A heavy fog had descended on the school grounds, reaching as far as the tired eye could see. 

The fog was persistent, it was thick. 

You felt like your thoughts were similarly clouded. You smiled at the irony. 

Returning your gaze back to your work, you looked at the time, it was way past 4 am already. Larissa would wake up soon. 

For the past few weeks it had been like this. You were staying up late, only getting a few hours of sleep a night. And sometimes, like tonight, no sleep at all. 

You felt that you didn’t have enough time. The work load you had felt like the weight of the world rested on your shoulders. You had stacks of ungraded papers, lesson plans to finalize, and a curriculum to update. 

You were exhausted. 

You tried your best to hide it, you didn’t want Larissa to get worried. Because her concern would’ve broken your heart. 

Every day went like this: You ’got up’ at 6, prepared for your lessons of the day and started at 8, taught for 8 hours straight, got back to your shared quarters and spent the rest of the night with Larissa. And after she had fallen asleep, you’d finish your work and prepare for the next day. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your wife how much workload you’d had recently and how overwhelming it was for you. You had had difficulties in the past finding time to spend together, and after months of you both trying to work it out, it was, indeed, working. 

But lately, it had become too much. With the work, of course. You knew that Larissa would get concerned and start panicking and rushing things to make it better. You didn’t want that. She had her own job to do, which definitely had a workload twice as big as yours was. You felt pathetic. Your wife does three times the work you do in a day and you’re still stressed? Yes, pathetic. 

You finished your lesson plans for the day, just to save yourself some time later. 

It was 5:13 am when you were done. You rubbed your temples to ease your already growing headache as you got up from the desk, swayed there for a bit before making your way to the bathroom. 

You winced at your reflection in the mirror. Your dark and puffy undereyes were still there, if not even more bad and noticeable. This was the first time in your 25 years of living that you had had eye bags. You knew it was bad. 

You hopped in the shower to keep yourself up and maybe gather some energy to get through the day. At first the cold water did wake you up a bit more. Then, when you turned it a little bit warmer, you realized how bad of an idea it was. The warm water relaxed all those tense muscles in your body and you closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

And your eyes stayed closed for a bit too long. If you weren’t so tired, you would have laughed at yourself. The image of you half asleep, standing in your shower. What in the actual fuck, really? 

But something made you jump and push your body’s cries for help and sleep to the back of your mind. 

”Darling?” You heard Larissa’s hoarse morning voice call out to you from the door. 

”Mhm?” You hummed as you turned the water back to cold to not almost fall asleep again. 

”Nothing, just wondering how you’re up so early every morning this week, usually it’s a task itself to get you up,” She chuckled at her own words. 

You smiled to yourself and turned the faucet off, stepping out of the shower so you could see her. 

You noticed how she was checking you out, biting her lip as her eyes roamed across your body. You smirked at her as you took your towel and dried yourself, about to wrap it around your bare body. 

She quickly snapped out of her trance and stepped forward, taking the towel in her hands and unwrapping it, causing it to drop on the floor. 

”I don’t think we’ll be needing that.” She said in a low tone as she pulled you flush against her body by your waist, attacking your neck with her mouth. 

You hummed in delight and closed your eyes in satisfaction at the sudden move, wrapping your hands around her neck. 

You let out little gasps, you couldn’t even let out a simple moan because of your sleep-deprived state. 

And it felt so good, feeling your wife’s lips on your neck, still keeping your eyes shut, leaning into her, maybe leaning too much, starting to drift off, losing your balance… 

Your eyes snapped open when your heard Larissa’s sudden, loud gasp, as she had her arms tightly wrapped around your torso to keep you from falling to the hard floor. 

”Darling, what on earth just happened here?!” She asked in shock as you stood up. 

You took a moment to process what she just said, just because you couldn’t think as fast as usual. 

”What? M’sorry, just got a little.. distracted there, I think..” You responded hazily, trying to focus your eyes to look into hers. 

She ducked her head a bit, trying to get a closer look of you and inspecting your condition. ”Are you alright? You had me worried there, are you sure you want to go to work today? You can take the day off, okay?” 

Your eyes widened in panic, ”No, no, Rissa I am absolutely fine, and I will not be taking the day off. You shouldn’t be concerned, I am okay.” You said hurriedly and walked away, leaving your wife standing in the bathroom, extremely confused and concerned. 

-

”Okay, I think it’s time we all head for lunch, see you guys tomorrow!” You announced the class with a smile, packing your things and leaving for the dining hall. As you entered the hall, you seached for your wife with your eyes, as you always ate lunch together. She wasn’t there. 

You yelped loudly when you felt someone grab your shoulder from behind, causing some people nearby to look at your weirdly. You turned around, ”God, you scared me, Rissa,” You breathed out. 

She just responded with a laugh, sliding her arm to the small of your back and guiding you to walk together to get the food. 

As you sat down, you began eating in silence. You opened a can of energy drink, something that you’d been drinking a lot these days. You didn’t usually even drink those that often, but you needed something to keep you up and awake. 

Larissa sent you a scolding look, a frown tugging at her lips. ”Y/N, what’s this?” 

You widened your eyes, you didn’t want her to find out like this. Or any other way. ”Oh, that’s just an energy drink. Thought it might give me a little boost.” 

She narrowed her eyes slightly, ”A boost? Y/N, darling, this isn’t healthy. Are you not sleeping enough?” 

You smiled, but it was forced. ”Rissa, I’m fine. It’s just been a busy week.” 

She sighed, looking at you with worry-filled eyes. ”Y/N, I can see something is going on, don’t shut me out. Whatever it is, I’m here to help you. We’re a team, remember?” 

Your gaze softened, you were really lucky to have her. But you didn’t want her to know. You didn’t want her you worry about you, because when Larissa got worried, it was all she could think about. She couldn’t work, rest, do anything. She’d have to get to the bottom of it. 

You pursed your lips and took her hand in yours, ”I know, and I appreciate that. But I’ve got this, Rissa. Trust me.” 

-

It had been a few days since that, and your condition and fatigue were only growing worse. Your work load seemed to have doubled since that day. You were trying (and struggling) to stay awake with the constant consumption of caffeine. 

The fog was growing thicker and thicker. You barely could see where you were walking. 

Larissa had had enough. She had been watching your extremely concerning situation unfold in the past few days into something much more worrying. She couldn’t bear seeing you suffer like this for a moment longer. This had to end now. 

You were sitting in your classroom, head buried in your hands as you tried to take a deep breath so that the pounding headache you had recently gotten would go away. You’d taken more aspirin than you probably should have, but it didn’t do anything. You were feeling miserable, physically, and that way, emotionally, too. 

Your eyes began to feel heavier and heavier, and you almost didn’t hear the sharp knock on your classroom door. You flinched harshly at that, squeaking a quiet, ”It’s open.” 

You heard the door opening and the familiar clacking of heels filled the room. 

”Darling?” 

Her voice was soft, almost a little wary. 

You raised your gaze to meet hers, ”Yes?” 

Her eyes were filled with concern, barely hidden. ”I’m worried about you. I can see that something’s going on, and if you’d just please, please let me in, I could help you. Okay?” 

You pursed your lips. You knew this was coming. ”Larissa there is absolutely no reason for you to worry. I am fine, okay?” Your voice was a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. 

”No, you’re not.” She snarled, her tone of voice contrasting the one she had just moments prior. ”You’ve been running on fumes for days! Darling, this… this can’t go on any longer.” Her voice broke as her eyes held a silent plea. 

Your jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor. ”I can handle it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep convincing yourself that. 

”Y/N you almost collapsed earlier! This can’t go on.” She stepped closer, reaching her hand out to touch your shoulder. 

You shrugged off her touch, ”It was nothing. Just a moment of dizziness.” 

Larissa scoffed, her patience was wearing thin. ”And what happens when it’s not just a moment? What happens when you can’t get back up?” 

Something in that comment did it. Your eyes flashed with fury as your tone of voice turned into one laced with venom.�� ”You just don’t get it, Larissa! I can fucking handle myself!” 

Her brows furrowed and you could’ve sworn you almost saw her flinch a little. ”Look, I am not trying to belittle you. I just want and need you to take care of yourself.” 

Your head tilted as your eyes held nothing but defiance in them. You felt your breathing pick up, uncontrollably, and how that pounding headache seemed to double, you started feeling a little lightheaded. But you chose to do what you’d been doing for god knows how long now. You ignored it. 

”I don’t, I don’t need you constantly watching over me.” You said, out of breath. 

Your wife’s expression dropped as she realized your condition and what could be happening next. She approached you cautiously, attempting to try and calm you down. ”Y/N, darling, this is not about control. It’s about caring for you.” She told calmly, cupping your face with her soft palm. 

You shook your head, ”You suffocate me, Larissa! I can’t breathe with you hovering over me all the time!” 

Larissa’s heart sank at that. She never meant for it to come to this. She only wanted the best for you, to protect you. 

”Y/N, please, I…” 

Your breathing laboured and before she could finish, your legs gave way and you collapsed on the cold, hard floor. 

”Y/N!” Larissa’s voice came out as a terrified cry as she rushed forward to try and catch you, but she was too late. 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she knelt beside you, shaking you gently and trying to wake you up. ”Y/N, can you hear me?! Please, say something..” 

Your eyes fluttered open, but you couldn’t focus on anything. Your breathing was still laboured and the words you tried to speak came out as a strained whisper. 

”Y/N, I’m taking you to the infirmary.” She breathed out as she scooped you up in her arms and rushed out the classroom. 

-

Since then, you and Larissa made an agreement. Well, you didn’t have much say in it, since Larissa demanded it. 

Larissa began monitoring your schedule, making sure you were following the new schedule she had made for you. And there was no room for negotiaton, absolutely no exceptions. 

Larissa also began cooking more, preparing the meals with care and love, making sure each one was balanced with important nutrients to get your energy levels for the better. 

Bedtime was the most strictly monitored. As evening approached, Larissa would guide you through a calming routine. She’d prepare a warm bath with your favourite scents, she’d slip in as well and wash your hair for you, massaging your head to calm you down. Then, she’d dress you into comfortable pyjamas and lead you to bed, prepare you a nice cup of tea and dim the lights. 

And she’d lull you to sleep with soothing caresses and words of affirmation, telling you how much she loved you, again and again, kissing your whole body as she did so. 

And it worked perfectly. You were feeling both, physically and mentally better. The dark circles under your eyes were slowly fading away, your energy starting to gain back. You also growed to appreciate your wife a thousand times more.

One evening, you were sitting in your shared bedroom, by your desk. Your laptop was open and you were determined to finish grading some papers for your students. Then, Larissa entered the room, the stern look on her face telling everything. ”Darling, it’s time for dinner.” 

You sighed, closing the laptop as you didn’t want to argue about it. And you were starving too. 

You ate in silence with her, you occasionally stealing glances at her. The way she fussed about your portion sizes, making sure you got the right nutrients for your health - you heart warmed as it was all an expression of love. 

Once you were finished, she led you to bed, undressing you and helping you with your pyjamas. I could’ve done that myself, you thought. 

”Now, off to bed. You need your rest, dearest.” 

You smiled as she laid down next to you, caressing your hair and kissing you softly. And you kissed her back, again and again.  Soon, you fell into a peaceful slumber, under Larissa’s loving gaze. She laid a final kiss on your forehead, ”I love you, my darling.” She whispered before drifting off as well. 

And if you looked outside, you’d have noticed that the fog had finally cleared. 

[abiiors]

A FIC ABOUT TAKING CARE OF ROSS OH PLEASEEEE GIVE ME THE HURT/COMFORT AWHILE BACK I REQUESTED ABOUT COMFORTING /HIM/ INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND (and you wrote it and it was amazing) ITS MY FAVORITE TROPE

SORRY FOR YELLING IM JUST EXCITED!

it's quite short but it's sweet <3

you watch ross with a frown on your face. which is not how it usually goes—usually, you watch him absolutely enamoured or with a huge grin on your face. or sometimes, when you’re busy belting out the lyrics and shredding an air-guitar, you don’t even watch him at all. but today, (rather, in the last few days) the frown has been making a more and more frequent appearance. 

you know he’s been in pain and you know how much he keeps minimising it with frequent reassurances of “i’m fine,” and “you're worried over nothing.” and sure maybe you are, but you don’t like the way he keeps shaking his hand and scruntching his face in pain after every song. especially now that they’re done with most of the set with only two more songs left. 

so you sit backstage, restlessly tapping your foot and waiting for him to come back. 

fifteen more minutes, and you hear the tell-tale sounds the cheers and whoops and laughter—matty’s giggle the loudest among them all but ross is laughing along too. 

he looks perfectly fine when he comes into view. exactly like he does every day except for the hint of a blue tap peeking out from under his sleeve. well this is new—you didn’t know he had to put it on. 

“did you enjoy it love?” he asks, placing a kiss on your head and immediately makes his way to his bag. 

you mumble a non-commital yes and watch him dig through it until he finds the familiar pack of ibuprofen and looks around in search of some water. 

“ross…” you sigh, holding out a bottle of water which he takes gratefully and swallows down two pills. 

he’s oblivious to you watching him—from the way he can’t open the cap of the bottle on the first try to how he constantly flexes and unflexes his hand, almost subconsciously at this point while he jokes around with polly about something. 

so when you get a minute with him alone, you pull him aside. 

“you’re hiding it from me.” your tone is slightly accusatory which makes him frown in confusion. 

“hiding? babe, what…”

“your arm. you’re hiding the fact that it hurts to play!” you poke his arm lightly, just a graze of your finger against his wrist but ross looks away guiltily.

“i am not hiding!” he grumbles but his shoulders slump a little as he gazes at the ground. the guilt in his eyes is evident, but he's not ready to admit it fully just yet. "i just don't want you to worry, that's all. it's no big deal, honestly."

you can't help but roll your eyes at his stubbornness. "ross, you're in pain. you're wincing and fidgeting on stage. it's obvious to me, and i'm sure it's noticeable to the fans too. you’ve got a tape wrapped around it. do you honestly expect me to believe it’s because you’re “not in pain”?”

he lets out another sigh, rubbing his temple as if trying to chase away a growing headache. "i know, love. but i’m handling it, okay? i can’t exactly take a break though, can i?”

that softens you a bit—enough that you step forward and cradle his face between your hands. “i know it’s a lot at the moment… but can you let me take care of you at least? icing it can help, right?”

he nods and you make a mental note to google all the ways to lessen his pain because yes, unfortunately taking a break is not an option. 

so till then, it’s ice packs, and tapes and ibuprofen. 

“something warm helps too,” he volunteers, cheekily pulling you closer. “a bath when we get back to the hotel?”

you roll your eyes at him again, trying and failing to suppress your smile. “anything else, babe? a sexy nurse costume to go with your treatment?”

“i mean if you’re offering–ow!” he laughs at your attempts to smack his chest. 

despite the pain, you’re glad to see him back in high spirits again and finally willing to accept being taken care of. it’s not ideal—the injury, the schedule. anything really. but at least now you can properly devise a plan. 

[goldenempyrean]

sick reader and elizabeth using “It sounds like you’ve caught that bug going round.”  and “Naps are only for babies and old people. Im neither.”  

Should've Stayed Home

〚 Notes - Just posting the fic I wrote last night :) This hasn't been edited/checked well so sorry about mistakes! 〛

〚 Pairing - Lizzie Olsen x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You insisted on visiting Lizzie's parents with her, even when you weren't feeling great. But once you arrived there, it seems that maybe staying home would've have been such a day idea. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1300 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Maybe you should stay home today sweetheart.” Lizzie sighed as you coughed into your elbow, “It sounds like you’ve caught that bug going round. We can always reschedule, or I can always go visit my parents by myself for a few hours and then come home again.” 

But you only shook your head as tossed her the car keys, “No, we’ve been putting off seeing your parents for weeks and I’m not even that sick either, my throat’s just being a little temperamental.” 

Lizzie hesitated for a moment, worry creasing her forehead, but ultimately, she relented and took the keys from you. She watched as you gathered your things and made your way out the door, wishing she could convince you to stay home and rest. 

As you drove to Lizzie's parents' house, you couldn't shake the feeling of fatigue that settled in your bones. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the radio and the passing scenery outside the car window. The coolness of the glass felt amazing against the throbbing which had begun to pound in your temples. 

The drive wasn’t too long at least, that was a positive. Not only had your head begun to pound, but you also found yourself beginning to sniffle repetitively, unable to keep your nose from running. Those sniffles only intensified further when your nose itched sharply. 

“H’h..h’tschoo! Heh’hupsshooo!” 

Lizzie chuckled, reaching over to squeeze your thigh gently, “Bless-“ She started but stopped when your breath hitched again preemptively. 

“H’htschoo!” You ducked your head into your elbow as you covered your final sneeze, sniffling wetly in the aftermath, scrunching up your nose as you wiped it against the end of your sleeve. 

“There's tissues in the glove box baby, blow your nose.” Lizzie sighed, regretting that she hadn’t pushed further for you to stay home. 

You nodded and reached for the tissues, blowing your nose loudly and rubbing at your eyes. The headache was only getting worse, and your throat felt like it was on fire. You tried to distract yourself by looking out the window again, but everything seemed to blur together in a dizzying haze. 

By the time you arrived at Lizzie's parents' house, you were feeling worse than ever. Your head was pounding, your nose was running nonstop, and your throat was so sore it hurt to swallow. You tried to put on a brave face when you greeted her parents, but they could tell something was wrong. 

As soon as you walked in the door, Lizzie's mom greeted you with a big hug. "Oh, honey, you don't look so good. Are you feeling okay?" she asked, concern etched on her face. 

You forced a smile and nodded, not wanting to worry her. "I'm just a little under the weather. Nothing to worry about," you replied, your voice scratchy and hoarse. 

Lizzie's dad came over to give you a handshake and a pat on the back, but you winced in pain as the pressure on your back sent a wave of pain through your body. Lizzie noticed your discomfort and quickly intervened, guiding you over to the couch and offering you a glass of water. 

You gratefully accepted the water, taking a sip to soothe your sore throat. Lizzie sat down next to you, her hand resting on your knee as she asked, "Do you need anything else, love?" 

You couldn’t help but feel your heavy eyes begin to close on their own as you fought to keep yourself awake as you leant your head against Lizzie’s shoulder, “No, it’s fine.” 

Lizzie frowned as she felt the heat radiating off of you. She knew that you were running a fever, and she didn't want to push you too hard. "Maybe we should head back home, sweetheart," she suggested gently. 

You shook your head, not wanting to ruin the visit. "No, I'm fine. Let's just hang out for a bit," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Lizzie hesitated, but eventually she relented when she parents joined the two of you in the living room. 

You tried your best to keep yourself composed as you chatted with Lizzie's parents. But as the conversation went on, the pressure in your sinuses began to build, and you knew that you were on the verge of a sneeze. 

You tried to hold it in, but it was no use. Your body gave in, and you let out a loud, explosive sneeze. "H'tschh!" Your hand shot up to cover your nose and mouth, but it was too late. 

Lizzie's mom rushed over to you with a handful of tissues, concern etched on her face. "Oh, honey, are you okay? Do you need anything?" she asked. 

You nodded, grateful for the tissues. You blew your nose, wincing as the pressure in your head intensified. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you tried to hide your embarrassment. 

Lizzie's dad gave you a sympathetic smile. "It's okay, we've all been there," he said, trying to make you feel better. 

“You’re definitely getting a cold.” Lizzie sighed, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. You could do little more to respond, that insistent itch still lingering in your nose before you eventually sneezed down into your tissues yet again, mumbling out your apology afterwards. 

Lizzie's mom reached over to hand you another tissue, giving you a sympathetic smile. "Bless you, dear. It sounds like you're really not feeling well," she said kindly whilst Lizzie wrapped her arms around you, holding you closer to her. 

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for not listening to Lizzie's advice to stay home. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a scene," you apologised, your voice still scratchy and hoarse. 

Lizzie's dad patted you on the back. "No need to apologise, we understand. Sometimes these things just happen," he said, giving you a reassuring smile. 

But you couldn't shake the feeling of embarrassment and discomfort. You were starting to feel like a burden on everyone, like you were ruining the visit. You tried to excuse yourself, saying that you needed some fresh air, but Lizzie insisted on coming with you. 

Outside, the cool air felt good on your flushed face, but you couldn't escape the pounding in your head or the congestion in your sinuses. You leaned against Lizzie, feeling her warmth and support as you tried to catch your breath. 

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "I didn't mean to ruin the visit." 

Lizzie pulled you closer, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You didn't ruin anything, sweetheart. We just want you to feel better," she said, her voice soft and gentle. 

You leaned into her, feeling the weight of exhaustion and sickness weighing you down. "I just want to go home," you said, your voice barely audible. 

Lizzie nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. She helped you back to the car, settling you in the passenger seat before going back inside to explain the situation to her parents. 

As Lizzie drove you home, you leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass soothing against your hot skin. Lizzie's hand found yours, squeezing it gently as she drove. 

“Maybe you should try and take a nap sweetheart, you look exhausted.” 

 “Naps are only for babies and old people. I'm neither.”  You mumbled, but still you found yourself giving in and closing your eyes. 

Lizzie chuckled softly. "Well, in that case, you're just taking a rest. You need it." She whispered, her voice filled with sympathy and love. 

You nodded sleepily, feeling grateful for Lizzie's understanding and care. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that you were in good hands, and that Lizzie would be there to take care of you until you were feeling better. 

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[sm4sd]

pete wentz / joe troh !!!! wrote this for my dearest oomf on instagram because they love wentzman

a/n: mentions of alcohol and also out of character joe sorry NOT sorry! don't care. also this is my first fic in ummm 3 years?

tw NOT proofread don't care DONT CAREEEE.

----

the loud music and sounds of people filled the room. pete, probably too many drinks in, was asking around if anyone had seen joe. he wasn't sure why he felt like he needed to find joe, but he had always had this weird pull toward him. suddenly the music changes, pete hearing one of Fall Out Boy's own songs come on. not liking to hear his own lyrics, he steps outside, taking a seat on the stairs on the porch.

footsteps echo around him, pete turns around seeing just the man he was looking for. "don't like hearing our shit either?" joe asked. "nah dude, it's weird to me, listening to shit i wrote, you know?"

maybe it was the alcohol talking, but pete was realizing how good joe looked under the light that night. he found himself staring a little. "hey man, you okay?" joe asked, a slight hint of concern on his face. "yeah... i'm, i'm fine."

"you're staring... a lot. it's startin to freak me out a lil." joe says with an awkward laugh. "i'm sorry. it's just... never mind..." pete trails off, turning away from joe. joe takes a hand, putting it on pete's shoulder. "you can tell me, whatever it is. we're friends, remember?"

pete takes another sip of his drink before speaking. tripping over his words he mumbles out, "i just think you look really good tonight, joe. and every day actually." an expression of confusion takes over joe's face. "what are you sayin, dude. you like me or something?"

"well. i don't know. maybe. after everything with my ex... you've been here for me.. more than anyone else. and like i said. you're a pretty good looking guy. i can't help it." pete says, following his words with the rest of his drink, enjoying the burn in his throat. a welcome distraction from his awkward confession of feelings for his best friend.

"pete, im sorry. i don't know if i like guys like that. you're a great dude and all but. i just, i don't know."

pete's voice falls to an almost whisper, "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to tell you like this. i didn't mean to tell you at all. i know you're straight... this was.. so stupid. i hope we can still be friends."

joe nods along with his last statement, "it's okay man. i'm flattered at least. of course we're going to be friends. the band will not break up because of something like this." pete shakes his head dejectedly, "alright dude. thanks."

the next morning pete wakes up with a killer headache and a dreadful feeling in his stomach. he knew he had too much to drink last night, but he couldn't remember really what he did. he rolled out of bed, walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fix his hair. on his way to the bathroom he runs into patrick who asks, "are you okay?"

pete shrugs, "yeah? why wouldn't i be?" patrick forces a smile, "well we heard about last night... with joe. i'm sorry." all the memories from last night hit pete like a brick, all the emotions flooding back to him. "oh... right. i forgot about that. i kind of passed out right when i got back here." patrick sighed, patting his friend on the back. "you'll be okay. between us, there are better guys out there, some who are actually into dudes." pete nodded, trying to convince himself of that.

the next few weeks are... awkward to say the least. joe is still nice to him, but it feels forced. the chemistry between the whole band is becoming thrown off. their tour was coming up soon, and each rehearsal was only getting worse. joe and pete refusing to speak, andy staying out of it, and patrick being overly cheerful about everything, trying to bring the band back together.

it has been 2 weeks since the night of the party. today was the worst rehearsal the band has had yet. patrick beginning to get fed up with everyone's bullshit, "guys, you either have to work out your personal problems or put them aside." joe nodded in agreement, and pete walked off, going to sit in his room.

pete collapsed into his bed, his mind racing. patrick's words echoed through his mind, "work out your personal problems." and joe's rejection stinging like a fresh wound in his heart. a few moments later he heard a quiet knock on his door, "pete, can i come in? we need to talk." assuming it was joe he let out a muffled, "come in."

joe opened the door, sitting down next to pete on the bed. "alright, i'm sorry i've been avoiding you... that night... it made me realize a few things about myself that i've just been reflecting on."

"what do you mean?" pete asked. joe sighed, looking down at the ground. "i think i've had feelings for you this entire time. i just. i've never liked a guy before, you know? it's weird. i never really thought about it until you said something. i know you were drunk, but if you'd still want to maybe... try this out? i'd like that a lot." a small smile tugged at pete's lips, "i don't know... you really hurt me that night. i still like you but i think i need some time."

joe put his arm around pete, pulling him closer to his body. "that's okay, i'll be here when you're ready. we can figure this out together."

without thinking, pete placed his hand on joe's cheek, and pulled his head close. their lips connecting in a gentle kiss. when they break apart, a smile fills joe's face. "first kiss with a guy, huh? not too bad right..." pete jokes. joe laughs at pete's comment, "yeah, that was pretty good actually."

pete grins, his ego speaking for him, "well i'm always here if you ever want to do that again..." wordlessly joe leans back in, pulling pete close and kissing him again. pete's hand found solace in joes curls, and joe's hands resting on pete's back. their mouths moved together in a natural rhythm, everything feeling right for both boys.

pete pulls away from the kiss, "we can't just be friends who kiss. what are we? what is this going to be?" joe lays down next to him, "well.. do we need a label? we're just... us. you know?" pete laughs in agreement, "sure. us. it would be cool if you wanted to be my boyfriend though." joe giggles, almost adjacent to a middle schooler with a stupid crush, "then i'll be your boyfriend."

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

haaaiiii its meee, drunk anon <333

last time i’ve seen your posts you said you were feeling ill so i hope you’ve recovered and rejuvenated well by now. i was sick about three weeks ago and i’ve always been a child about taking medicine 😖 eeughhh nyquil, very much dislike nyquil & yet i’ll consume 8 shots of jamey before a lick of nyquil lmaaooo

anywaayy, since i’m on the topic of sickness, what are your hcs for Aeon when one of them is sick? who’s more baby-er(? lol)? who has more trouble taking nyquil? (lolololctfuuuu) what needs are Aeon attending to when one of them are bed bound? (also Ada telling Leon to fawk off because she doesn’t wanna get him sick but he goes and instead fawks her skahxxgsh and FJCKING VICE VERSA)

hehe ok bye ✌️😎

HI BABY im glad u drank water by now hehe

I AM ILL I WAS ILL I WILL BE FINE LOL THANK YOUBABY

IM SORRY BABY. awwww i actually like nyquil jksbjdfkjsdbfkjs i had to take a lot of it recently skbfdsbbelugh. im glad ur better too baby! YES SICK AEON HC (illness, not SICK as in cool lol)

i wrote ada being sick in this fic actually!

FAWKSSDSS HHER TJKSFJKSJKSDKKFNJSDF

leon is the hugest baby

just in bed, the covered in tissues and pain meds and STINKY

ada would probably NOT ACTUALLY STICK AROUND TO TAKE CARE OF HIM LMAO she'd leave like a basket of cough syrup with notes like, "take this, and this, and drink this." and FUCKIN DIP LOL

she'd check in again at some point and would feel bad, maybe check if he has a fever but would hope that he gets better eventually

leon would stick around till the point ada's like GET THE FUCK OUT

he'd coddle her much more and she'd HATE IT.

yes leon is the bedbound one, but ada would be too but would still want to do things on her own.

i see them rarely getting sick though. maybe fatigue and headaches and body aches but i for some reason see leon getting like physicals and shots to stay healthy. he would be the one getting special treatment so he can stay healthy, longer

but his own bad habits like excessive drinking would ruin that lol

ada would want to take care of herself on her own and just hate the idea of being sick in front of leon.

but i do

..

have

...aeon fic

where

ada is

sick...

for reasons...

:)

[rin-and-jade]

Hey, I've got a question? I think I'm a singlet, but there's some brain stuff going on that I wanted to get input from a system about, as it seems to be a bit more up your alley.

So I can feel like a- a presence in my head, basically. I've named them Shadow right now as just saying "the presence" felt weird. I also keep subconsciously using he/him pronouns with them for some reason so just a heads up that may be a thing in this ask lol.

They're just kinda chilling for the most part. Like if my mind was a room and the body was a video game character, I'd be sitting at the computer and in control of the mouse and the keyboard, while Shadow is doing their thing on the bed if that makes sense. So I tried to like, mentally poke them I guess? Cause there's something in my head and I wanted to know what it was. And instantly was bombarded with a dehabilitating headache, like when you try to remember something you know happened but don't have any details about.

Needless to say, I have not tried to poke them again.

I asked some of my friends a. if this was normal, and b. if they knew what was up, and the two responses I got were something about repressed trauma (which is fair, I don't remember any trauma but I also am almost always mildly dissociating so yknow) and something spiritual, which was well intentioned but I don't believe in that stuff so I'm not real inclined towards that option. And I thought, "Who is likely to have ideas about Things That Arent You in your head?" and plurality seemed like an obvious place to look. I don't think I'm plural, at least not right now, since Shadow and I have had ZERO communication (not sure if they even are sentient or if it's smth else) and I only lose time and stuff the normal amount, but maybe you guys have ideas about what this could be? I don't have access to a psychiatrist rn (and frankly I am Not ready to tell anyone that isn't a very close friend about Shadow without the anonymity of Tumblr, my parents would definitely question if I asked to see a psychiatrist out of the blue and I am not ready to explain this to them) so this is kind of the best I can do, sorry.

Also one of my friends and I have a notebook we write back and forth in and when I wrote about Shadow it felt like they were pressing closer to me, like they'd moved off the bed and were watching intently over my shoulder.

-D (signing off in case I come back with an update)

Thanks for coming to me and providing me a detailed explanation to describe your situation, i have a few to say.

It can't be trusted when you think something is in a "normal" level because you wouldn't know if it is actually or it is not. Unless you have searched and asked questions to other people on whats the acceptable range of losing time normally, i will believe you on this.

Im also curious if shadow can respond to you, it doesn't need verbal communication between the two of you as it works well by "feeling" it. Have you ever get those moments where saying something it might like made them steer close to you too? Do you think your thoughts or actions are affected to a degree when you feel them around? Do you feel like you are it despite not knowing anything about what this shadow's personality is like? How long have you noticed shadow existing?

Also, for my people, they don't get headaches when it comes to probing or trying to know/think about the another part. I can describe it as staring/thinking at something that doesn't feel familiar which causes little to nothing but confusion or dissociation. No pain involved like yours (though this experience might be different for everyone)

If you have confirmed that you lose time in an acceptable range, get pain just by trying to think/interact from it, and don't feel affected in any ways by shadow,, i will say it could be something else. If you think shadow does something more than chilling inside and leering to you closely way too often (and even have its own gender preference), it could be plurality. I recommend you to search more things that correlate to headaches and not remembering trauma and feeling a presence to get a better understanding, i wish you luck and i will gladly wait for your update, D.

- j

[bubblegumknuckles]

I don't mean to overstep so feel free to ignore this ask but do you really have narcolepsy. Could you tell me more about narcolepsy and how it affects you?

From and ignoramus anon

Hi you arent over stepping, no worries. Sorry for the delay, I have a hard time answering back anybody, and ive been sleeping a ton.

So, when I wrote that I had Narcolepsy in my bio, it was a few months ago & for different health reasons I wasnt able to get the final results of my final sleep study test (4th one.) Narcolepsy was what was most likely, especially since my primary doctor said her mom has narcolepsy & I wasnt even taking about sleeping problems to her, but fatigue was mentioned because I was explaining my symptoms that point towards a few autoimmune disorders….and she asked a few questions & said I sounded exactly like her mom who has Narcolepsy & it took her like 20 years to get diagnosed…. At first i was like nahhhh because the only knowledge I had of it was from tv. She gave me a referral to a sleep doctor but I ignored it for a few months, before doing research because my sleep keeps getting worse.

Then actually going, they dont really believe you at first. Insurance also makes you jump through hoops & i had to wait months each time, &the day of a sleep study, my insurance would finally say Not approved…so id have to reschedule. Its been a huge headache and hassle. I had to prove to the doctor and insurance basically how i dont have sleep apnea or restless leg syndrome or anything else before they will consider Narcolepsy. and even then the test for Narcolepsy is so difficult to pass, if you fail else, then they will diagnose you as Idiopathic Hypersomnia meaning they dont know whats wrong with you. but something is off. thats the official diagnosis, but Narcolepsy and IH are both treated very similar. Oh and theres two types of Narcolepsy, one being the more known one with cataplexy (like fainting and dropping out of nowhere at all times sleeping) & there is N2 that is basically without cataplexy (I dont drop out of nowhere and sleep)

So yeah, the results that finally came out said on some of my naps I fell asleep in 9 minutes & basically the criteria for narcolepsy is so strict it has to be under 8 minutes. i was like….thats pretty close. But nah they wanna use math and average it out and blah blah I dont qualify as technically narcolepy. I got diagnosed with Idiopathic Hypersomnia instead. I would be more irritated but at least its treated similar or the same. It was noted i have 0% sleep apnea & he said it is very strange that for an adult, I sleep so deeply, like I hit the deepest parts of sleep that usually just babies and children get to. Soooo I tried to get him to think on that….like bro im telling you I sleep that deeply and that much AND still have to continue napping thru the day. I sleep so much. Its impacting my life. And its weirdly gotten worse over the pandemic, altho I have always been like this.

Um sorry Idk if that answered your question bc I wouldve gotten more specific how narcolepsy affects me n stuff. But since I just finally got the official diagnosis of IH instead & its technically not Narcolepsy, i didnt know if u wanted to know more. In my every day life, im probably going to still call it Narcolepsy tbh bc thats what people know a little more about. Theyll be like “oh she really does have a sleeping disorder” does that make sense?

Anyway you can ask more questions if you want:)

[pwblogarchive]

August 2005

August 4, 2005

when i walked through the door there was a kid standing therein shorts and an argyle sweater. we went downstairs and played "through being cool" front to back. i knew we would be best friends forever.

this is my first memory of fall out boy. post yours. i wanna know.

yes yes we know everybody is hot. patrick is. joe is. andy is. because they are all good people. and that makes my heart beat.

yes, i am obsessed with the show 24. yes, i want to make a life with kim bauer and have 10,000 babies.

if you can find it inside to vote a couple more times for "sugar..." on TRL we would love you (oh who are we kidding, we do anyway). the info is in the news.

more dates for the nintendo fusion tour will keep being announced, so don't worry your pretty little head.

lets fall in love all over again from the start.

zzzzzz.

lately i have been feeling like i am just a headache for everyone.

08/04/05

question

what kind of guitars do you play? And who is better Joe or Patrick

answer

patrick is the love of my life but i cant deny joes doggie style. they are both pretty good in bed i guess.

question

did you really go out with Frank from my chemical romance?….oh and you and patrick are really hot!!!!

answer

i definitely have a boy crush on frank.

question

hey pete tell patrick he is hot. and ask him whats with the glasses?

answer

okay 2. i think they help him see

Other Q&As from this time that are undated

August 5, 2005

Hey. Updater.

Florida in august is a sweatlodge. Take my word for it you don’t want to know.

The kids here are amazing.

I lied. I’m sorry, please forgive me. We are selling the clandestine bartskull necklace at the clan booth on warped.

If you get a sec light up the trl lines for us with a couple of votes. You mean the world, either way.

August 12, 2005

I am the koolaid jammer. Romances last terrorist, locked away in the back watching emilio estevez and friends dance on the screen from deep in the back. Heyhey updater: the panic! At the disco record is still better than whatever you are listening to right now. Lets get married and move inside one of their songs. October fall is recording out in l.a. Right now. Get ready for big things babies. Me and patrick have been working on new songs already. Swoon. We’ve got an annoucement coming up really soon about a performance. We also did a pretty big interview that will be out in september… It covers a lot we haven’t ever talked about: getting bigger, me missing europe, etc… We’ve got some new merch coming soon and some special nintendo fusion show offers….

“Swear to shake it up if you swear to listen…”

Yeah I wrote a lyric for that song, guess which one… Ill be honest ryan writes circles around me….

August 18, 2005

dear warped tour,

even though you made us hot and dirty, we had the best summer of our lives and wanted to thank you.

thank you to every single one of you guys that came out, sang the words, crowd surfed, watched or came up to our signing and told us we suck (hehe).

the love is back on.

bigplans.

"we only do it for the scars and stories" still holds true. you don't even know, and im not telling.

- petey

August 19, 2005

Things I have been thinking about lately:

Warped tour was fun. Since being home I remembered that's showering and sleeping are fun too.

My real feelings on the sunburst bass. I loved that thing. But then it started cheating on me with mikey way. I had to hit it. Its not my fault- spousal abuse is an ugly thing. I'm in therapy that includes playing lots of warcraft online.

Writing messages on your arm for someon to see at a show is the new away message - stealing peoples real diary is the new livejournal.

On the topic of computers: lets stop talking like- u r lyKE soooooo Haawt.... My dogs can type bettere than that. And sending this I M "how come you're on my buddylist" or "who is this, is this really pete from fob" - honestly I love talking to people but these ones get instanlty rejected.

See also: peoples whose screenames are like: petehoppuslovespatrick65 - I know what the conversation is gonna be like already. I've had enough of them.

Oh yeah- mikey's screename is not xiheartweedx

I hear were a week away from retiring on trl. Lets do it. Cause honestly I'm not gonna live long enough to get retired from a real job (like 65?) we gotssss to party it up if it happens.

On us playing the vmas: we have this insane idea that mtv is considering. If they let us do it you may see something really insane. (Its not me and frank kissing in wedding dresses, or is it).

I hear there is a turbo voting thing for the vma on our front page.

Ill have a serious update later

Peter

August 19, 2005

The Warped tour was fun. Since being home I remembered that showering and sleeping are fun too. My real feelings on the sunburst bass. I loved that thing. But then it started cheating on me in a mikey way. I had to hit it. It's not my fault- spousal abuse is an ugly thing. I’m in therapy that includes playing lots of warcraft online. Writing messages on your arm for someone to see at a show is the new away message - stealing peoples real diary is the new livejournal

August 26, 2005

i should be in miami florida right now. stalking out jessica alba on a beach at night somewhere but instead i am lurking the internet from the safety of my parent's house. sorry i have been gone. there are plans afoot. i hate this hurricane nonsense- when we heard we were playing the VMAs we tried to come up with some hilarious stuff to do- you know- like first we suggested that we throw a big party on stage while we play and have some live deer and maybe two tranvestites dressed up like madonna and brittany spears, kissing- mtv was like: try again. so we rented space suits from a movie company and planned to play in those and kind of just smash eachother with our guitars- but now with this tropical storm mtv just wants us to actually be normal and play- hehe i'm sure we'll think of something. i need to go eat count chocula. we're putting some new gear into the clandestine webstore over at clandestineindustries.com and decaydance.com is up and you can preorder the panic! at the disco record along with the vinyl version of from under the cork tree. my hand has swollen to the size of a grapefruit, but if you think that looks bad, you should see the other guy, or in this case the wall.

if you get a chance, you could make our day and go over and vote for us a couple of times at FBRVOTE.COM - an easy way to do it...

ive got pees on my head but don't call me a pee head. bees on my head but don't call me a bee head. bruce lee's on my head but don't call me a lee head.

i'm crazy for you sparkle.

August 26, 2005

from the retirement home.

have i told you guys lately that you are the best?

our video retired on TRL today ONLY because of you.

thank you.

that is all.

- petey

August 26, 2005

on pete’s friends or enemies blog

August 29, 2005

Live from the defjam party.

I am in disbelief.

Everytime I question what I am doing, you prove me wrong.

We won the m2 vma. In my opinion the most important award of the night.

We weren’t sure.

I never should have doubted you.

You have NEVER let me down.

You make me proud to be in this band.

We aren’t the biggest. But you make us feel like we are.

We are in love.

More later.

Peter

August 30, 2005

the roc is still alive when fall out boy hits the mic.

can we say that we love you anymore.

you rbought it.

did you hear the collective gasp when they said fall out boy.

shock.

we were standing up to clap for our friends in My Chem, who we were sure had one.

we then realized we didn't know where to walk to or what to do.

we definitely noticed Usher give us the "WTF?" look when we went by him and hugged my chem.

we didn't write anything down, so we were very nervous when we got to the mic.

we dressed up like harry potter when we played so we would feel the magic.

we drove to the red carpet in a saturn and fell out cause we are broke.

we realize that beyonce quoted us. we wanted to return the favor "say my name, say my name- you're acting kinda shady aint callin me baby..."

jayz is the coolest. but luda is kinda close to as cool. and we have a super crush on christina milian. we are happy to be part of the defjamfam.

we realize that you made the world shake just for a second.

we want to pay you back with more than just a discount in our webstore. let me think of how.

one night can change it all. and you did that for me. so thank you.

- petey

[sqtorux]

PETTY FIGHTS (AND PRETTY MAKEUPS?)

ꨄ︎ summary. fighting and possibly making up with the jjk men — gojo, geto, nanami and toji [separate]

ꨄ︎ desc. implied fem!reader, angst(ish) to fluff¿ , sfw, also hurt to comfort?, reader always walks out oops, reader is called 'doll' in toji's because that's just so him. idk how many words this has because i directly wrote it on this app lol.

ꨄ︎ notes. this has been in my mind since a while ago i had to get it off somehow but why is it so much better in there jshshdjd oh also i wanted to do choso and sukuna but i ran out of petty arguments. so.

GOJO

"you're overworking again."

maybe that wasn't the best way to welcome your boyfriend after he came home late for the fourth time this week. but he wasn't listening and even though you knew it was unreasonable, certain thoughts about his company plagued your mind.

"can we not do this ?" satoru pinched his nose bridge, something he always does when his headache gets too severe.

"when else would we do this? you're never home, always at work." he only sighs heavily at your question, leaning against the doorframe.

"im really really tired right now." satoru removes his blindfold, his eyes now a dull blue instead of the usual bright cerulean ones.

you wanted to press on and tell him off about how he ignored his own fatigue for his work but seeing the state he's in, how could you?

you only nod at his words and made your way towards your shared bedroom, his heavy footsteps followed you soon after.

satoru joined you in bed after showering all while you pondered about your relationship. you hate your mind for feeding you doubts about it at all yet you couldn't help it either.

what if he's using work as an excuse to avoid you? what if he's growing tired of you as well? what if he's chea-

your thoughts were interrupted by a strong hand encircling your waist and pulling you closer against his warm chest, the scent of shampoo lingering in the air.

"i'm sorry" his voice was in hushed tones but the way it was delivered was loud and clear.

"things have been hectic lately i just couldn't help it" he nuzzled his face onto your neck.

"i was just worried you know." your fingers played with his that were now intertwined.

"i know you are and im so thankful" he scoots away just a little only to turn you so that you were now facing him instead of the wall. "i wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here."

his hands caressed your face, the touch so delicate it sends shivers down your spine. the gentle smile he had despite the hollow eyes and dark circles adjoining it, melted all your doubts away.

"how's your headache?"

"fine, now that you're here." you only scoff at his words while he chuckled lazily.

"sleep."

"alright. goodnight, i love you" he pulls you closer still, your face against his chest as he landed a light kiss on top of your head.

"i love you too" you mumble, feeling vibrations as satoru hums contently. the both of you drifted to sleep in each other's arms, leaving the problems for tomorrow.

GETO

"you lied to me." you spat your words at him, not a single tone of empathy in them.

"because i know you'd react like this."

"fucking jerk" you pushed him away trying to brush past him but he caught you by your wrist and turned you to face him.

"you're not walking away we're talking" suguru's words came off as harsh but really, he was desperate.

"i have nothing to say to you" your tear filled eyes and clenched teeth were unkind but he fucked up so that's what he deserved right?

"then listen to me because i have lots." when you make no attempt to walk away this time, his grip loosens and he mentally notes that he would take care of your wrist after he's done with the problem at hand.

"i only said she was my friend because... she used to be. i didn't specify that she was my past lover because i knew you'd be filled with countless questions that i dont necessarily want you knowing yet."

you look away, he just admitted to lying to you no matter what reason. your stomach churns and your heart sinks a little deeper.

"i promise i was going to tell you after i took care of everything so that i can confidently say that you have nothing to worry about."

the way your gaze wandered all across the floor and unmeeting his apologetic ones made suguru's heart ache.

"i only met up with her to let her know that she has no place in my life anymore and to stop trying to contact me. that was all i swear."

"couldn't... couldn't you have told her through text or something?"

"i did, numerous times. but she still wouldn't stop and even found ways to reach out after i blocked her everywhere. this was my last resort too i didnt want to do this either."

suguru's shoulders slumped in defeat. "i seriously don't want to lose you please i'm so sorry for lying to you."

"what about all the questions i have? will you answer them now?"

"each and every one." he assures "i have nothing to hide from you anymore."

you believe him don't you?

NANAMI

"did you really have to do that?" oh he did not just say that. you flung your handbag at him only for him to catch it with ease.

you angrily stomp away from him to— well, wherever he wasn't there. he rushes your way and jolts you back by your arms, a little too hard.

nanami's eyes widened at the realisation and his grip slightly loosens but he still hasn't let go.

"im sorry for hurting you" nanami immediately apologises. he takes off his signature beige coat that he always wears, and proceeds to drape it over your shoulders. and you let him, he thanks you for it in his mind.

"im also sorry for the harsh words. that wasn't very rational of me."

"no it wasn't" you cross your arms in annoyance, his coat shielding you from the cold night air.

the both of you were at a business party and you went as his date. it was there where you heard a subordinate being particularly sarcastic about your boyfriend which pissed you off.

okay, maybe it wasn't so logical to "accidentally" spill your wine on his shirt but he was the one that blew it out of proportion and shouted at you, leaving you to the rescue of none other than your beloved boyfriend.

"i was only defending you" you huffed stubbornly.

"and im flattered by it but that wasn't the proper way to deal with him."

"oh? then what was the proper way to deal with him exactly?"

nanami just sighs. he knows where you're coming from and if it was your subordinate that was badmouthing you, he was sure he'd do the same, if not worse.

"you should've told me and let me take care of it. i don't want anybody to speak to you in such a way, ever." just thinking about him yelling at you made his blood boil.

all this time you thought nanami was saying you overreacted but really, he was just angry at the man who disrespected you and himself.

he fixes his tie and regains his composure, closing the distance between you both as he caresses the same spot on your arms where he had grabbed just before.

"does it still hurt?" his gaze was soft and apologetic. you shook your head a 'no' and you could feel him exhale in relief.

"lets go home and have a long relaxing bath" you beam at him, he loves the idea.

before you could make your way towards the car though, nanami lifts you in his arms effortlessly.

he noticed how you were stomping earlier and your steps indicating the very obvious discomfort on your feet from the formal shoes you wore. he just knows you too well.

TOJI

"you're seriously going to be this petty?" his words only fueled the anger pulsing through your veins. it was only reasonable to be furious when he's late to the date you have been planning for the past week right? why can't he see that?

"stop the fucking silent treatment and talk to me" toji huffed, lingering next to you while you get undressed.

still no words or acknowledgement came from you. only the loud slam of your closet could be heard as you changed to your pajamas with toji observing you expectantly. he was upset but boy, were you so beautiful.

his short admiration was snapped away when he saw you aggressively taking a blanket and heading towards the living room. he stops your movements short, his hands finding themselves on your arms.

"and where do you think you're going?" your eyes finally met his in an angry glare before you shook his hand off and made your way to the couch.

your little stumps of anger were endearing to toji but he couldn't help the sigh that left his chest. why were you being so stubborn?

that's not stopping him though; he follows soonafter and hovered next to the couch but again, you didn't even admit to his presence and only avoided it by turning away from him.

"not even gonna give me a chance to explain?" silence. alright he's had enough.

not even a second has passed when you felt big strong arms on your back and around your waist, lifting you so casually.

you're not relenting either, you try to struggle free all while knowing you had no chance against your boyfriend. a hard hit landed on his chest with all your might only earning a chuckle from him.

"let me go." ah finally, one barrier has been broken.

"nah doll. if yer gonna be petty, you'll be petty next t’ me" he carries you back to your bedroom. in the midst of soft blankets and his warm hugs, maybe you'll forgive him just this once?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hi hello 🐟 anon here!! i’m so happy you liked my brainrot about mer!sugu :D and i’m sorry for taking this long to reply………….. TTTTTT i’ve been kind of busy these days but i’m resting now before easter comes so woohoo!!

you wanted to know what i wrote about BSD and uhhhh kind of embarrassing but it was a skk based on the chapter where dazai got shot (and we all believed he was dead but then all of that chaos happened and yeah……………🗿🗿🗿), so it was really angst-y and sad, where chuuya and dazai’s bond was analyzed and all…. and then dazai came back later, ijbol. as you can read, unfortunately im trapped in this skk hell, but i like to write from chuuya’s pov more :,,,) it’s more fun and easier for me!

anyway, just dropping by to tell you that i loved your sugu!drabble and that brought me so much comfort too because i woke up with an headache from yesterday’s events (there was a big international festival in my city and i was out almost all day…. so tiresome but so beautiful and colorful aaaaa) so yeah TT thank you for writing it! it was so sweet and nice to read and omg………. the stsg implications……. crying……….

ALSO,,, YOU’RE EUROPEAN TOO???/$;/&:!:&/ 🫂 have a nice day!! <33333 sending many hugs to you!! 🐟🐟🫶🏼🫶🏼

HELLOOOOOO 🐟 ANON <333333

first of all PLS dw about when you reply!!! 😭😭 there’s never any rush!!!!! i’ve been busy too lately so i’ve gotten slow at answering asks 😔😔 BUT I’M ALWAYS EXCITED TO HEAR FROM YOU i hope you’ve been resting up as much as you need!! aaa and you celebrate easter too…. one of my favorite holidays tbh it reminds me that spring is here :333 i used to be an egg hunting expert…. the best of them all….. sniffed them out like a bloodhound……

AND AAA THE SKK FIC …….. 🐟 anon you’re literally so real i also wrote a fix-it fic when one of my favs died 😔😔 i’ve never been super into skk as a ship but their dynamic is so good…. and i love them both!!! i think writing from chuuya’s pov is such a fun decision too :33 i love dazai but i would be way too overwhelmed to even attempt to get into his headspace LMAO….. i respect you sm for analyzing their relationship there’s just sooo much to dig into!!! i need to catch up on the bsd manga at some point soon … i miss kunikida :(( are skk your bsd faves 🐟 anon ?? or are there any others you like??? :>

TYSM FOR DROPPING BYYY and and and!!!! tysm for reading my geto drabble 🥺🥺 i’m so happy it could bring you some comfort!!!! that’s all i want!!!!! ohhhh to have suguru geto here to soothe my headaches… i hope yours ended up fading swiftly hehe. but ouffff not the festival 😞😞😞 i’m so sensitive to noise i could never survive…. luckily there aren’t really any festivals where i live at the moment but i suffer every single new years eve 💔💔 back to the drabble THE STSG IMPLICATIONS YES…… very happy you enjoyed them >:33 seriously though, tysm for reading and taking the time to let me know!! that makes me so happy!!!! <3333

[finns-non-existent-creativity]

I posted 24 times in 2022

That's 24 more posts than 2021! (Yea bc I wasnt on here last yr(also that is honestly sad))

22 posts created (92%)

2 posts reblogged (8%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theimpossiblehologramtree

@finns-non-existent-creativity

I tagged 18 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#sally face - 5 posts

#jjba - 5 posts

#eddsworld - 4 posts

#sal fisher - 4 posts

#eddsworld tord - 4 posts

#jjba jotaro - 3 posts

#jjba polnareff - 3 posts

#jjba part three - 3 posts

#queen - 2 posts

#sal - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 32 characters

#can it be eddsworld pls｡ﾟ(tヮt)ﾟ｡

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

SAL HEADCANONS:DD

• he definitely plays drums you can’t change my mind on that

• listened to queen once when ‘Another one bites the dust’ was popular and he hated it>:,(

•once cuddled with Larry bc they were both high and was terrified when he woke up🤩

• 110% still thinks about that note Travis wrote

• once threw up on Gizmo

K I FINISHED IM SORRY ITS SHORT:,)

7 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

#4

Salsa reaction when you ask him to rant about his favorite bands?

YESS ILY<33/p

•so exited you can see his smile through his Prothetic LIKE BRo

•Will go on for HOURS if you let him

•hes like “so there’s this band called…” you (hopefully) get the idea

•most definitely puts on music from each band hes talking about (like hes talking abt sanitys fall or smth and their music is on in the background:])

•MIGHT, I REPEAT MIGHT let you borrow a record

•if you fall asleep he might whack you with a pillow or something but if you were really tired he lets you sleep:)

IM SORRY ITS REALLY SHORT I ALSO KINDA FORGOT ABT THIS😭😭

7 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#3

Jolyne: WHY. why did you give F.F. a KNIFE?!

Ermes: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe.

Jolyne: Now I feel unsafe!

Ermes: I’m sorry.

Ermes: ... would you like a knife?

incorrect quote generated here:

8 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

hii!! ready for an eddsworld request 😈😈

alright soo- headcanons of tord with a s/o who plays drums pls!!!

YESSS THANK U<3

•he honestly thinks it’s awesome

•MIGHTTT let you teach him

•will say stuff like “Min kjærlighet that was wonderful”

•if ur in a band he will listen to ittttt:,)

•checks up on you if you’ve been practicing for hours

•will go to ur practices if ur in a band<3

•has PLENTY of headache tablets for you or himself

•IF YOU CANNOT TELL BY NOW I FIND SO MUCH COMFORT IN THIS MAN LIKE OMG I THINK I NEED THERAPY

OK IM SORRY IF IT WAS SHORT BUT AHHHHH THANK UUU FOR THE TORD REQ<333

9 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

CAN ANYONE PLS REQUEST SALLY FACE ITS MY CURRENT HYPER FIXATION AND I WANNA WRITE ABT IT I HAVE NO IDEAS THOUGH🤩

29 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nekropsii]

how do rainbow drinkers function in sovstuck? [could’ve SWORN I’ve asked you before but. i cannot recall.]

Ooo, this is an interesting one. I'll throw some fun facts about that your way- and apologies in advance for the disorganization. Don't be afraid to hit my inbox up again if you want more info!!

In Sovereignstuck, a "Rainbow Drinker" is a Jadeblood-specific evolutionary mutation. Drinkers are, by design, highly adapted to life in the Caverns... Though that doesn't mean that all Drinkers are bound to live out their days tending to the Brood. Not anymore, at least. This isn't Alternia or anything.

Most traits that make Drinkers unique are both Defensive and Navigational traits. The heightened senses, the heightened speed (both in pace and reflex), the ability to illuminate oneself, the taste for blood, et cetera- it's all devoted to the protection of the young.

Interestingly, blood color does affect the taste for Drinkers- this has led to the general scientific consensus that the unique taste perception of a Drinker is also connected to Postpupal Synesthesia. Even more interestingly, it seems that Jadebloods as a whole have adapted to the Drinker mutation, as Jade-colored blood tends to have a highly unpleasant, bitter taste to Drinkers. Grubs, likewise, often have a similarly repellent taste- specifically when uncooked- with the flavor being more disgusting the higher the Grub is on the Hemospectrum.

The fact that they have a taste for blood at all is a way to incentivize full-throttle aggression when defending the Brood. It's classed as a purely Defensive trait- going for the throat is much easier when you have a genuine personal drive to rip it out. Adrenaline and hunger are not a good mix!! To aid this attacking method, their jaws are actually significantly stronger than the average Troll. The bite force of a Drinker is no joke. It's about as pleasant as getting mauled by a chimpanzee.