#he said in sickness and in health mother fucker

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sickness and Health

A married!Javi Drabble based on this request

Series Masterlist

Rating: All fluff except for a few inappropriate words

A/N: I had to use this gif because I couldn’t think of anything for sick Javi. Just imagine he’s wiping his snot instead of his sweat (you’re welcome for the new mental association I’ve created)🤪. I got this request a month ago and I’m writing it only now 🙈 Sorry anon requester, but I hope you see this and like it 💜

I’ll be fine, he said. It’s just allergies, he said. My god querida, stop mothering me, he said. Yet here he was, flopped on the sofa with a leg on the floor as he snored. The man never came home before her. There were times when he’d come home briefly in the morning to shower and put on a fresh set of clothes before bolting out the door with nothing to spare her other than a rushed kiss. And now here he was at 5 PM, sleeping.

She placed a hand on his forehead, wincing when she found him burning up. Not to say she told him so, but she told him so. But he would hear none of it. The man dropped her off at work with the promise that he’d take an Advil if he needed before driving away to the embassy. He probably forgot. Or his promise was made just to placate her, stop her from being the nagging wife.

She didn’t quite know how to do it, the wife thing. Was she supposed to force a pill down his throat? Would she be the annoying nagging wife men talked shit about to their friends if she did? Was she supposed to leave him be? Would she be a bad wife for neglecting him and letting him go to work ill?

Knowing the man, he probably didn’t have anything to eat. His only intake was whiskey and tobacco from all the smoking he did. Was she supposed to pack him lunch? Send food to the embassy? She didn’t know. He never asked for anything and was happy to eat what she gave him when he came home. She provided dinner, leaving it on the table and leaving a note on his bed reminding him to eat it. Sometimes she managed to force a glass of OJ into his hand in the morning. But that was all. Lunch was a big question mark. What he ate when in Medellin was a blind spot.

Retrieving some chicken, carrot, celery and broth from the refrigerator, she got to work. With some time, spices and low music playing on the radio, the soup was ready to be served.

She poured some into a bowl, placed it on the coffee table and hovered over him. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead, either from the hot weather or his sickness. Messy black hair stuck to his forehead and she reached over and pushed it back.

“Javi…”

Nothing. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Javi?” He stayed still as a rock. Goddamn. The man usually woke up at the slightest noise. A bullet could leave a gun two miles away and he would hear it. It was rare that he slept at all, so when he did, she did everything in her power to keep his surroundings quiet.

“Mi amor…” she called, caressing his sweat soaked forehead. “Come on, get up. You need to eat something.”

He trembled under her touch and whined something incomprehensible. She tried again, called his name while giving gentle rubs to his shoulders. “…hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she said, smiling at his half-awake form. He looked so sweet like this, so innocent and childlike. She wanted to pick him up like he was a puppy and give him a million kisses. He might be a big bad federal agent but sleeping on their couch like this, he was her little puppy.

“… ‘s the paperwork and…Wysession…la Quica…umm and yeah what do I think?” He mumbled, making her laugh. This fucker would not survive without his job. It took a few more tries and sweet words, some of which embarrassing enough that she’d never repeat to him if he were awake. His eyes opened a little, his mumbling about work dimmed down and he spoke her name.

“Yeah. It’s me. Get up. I made soup. You should have some, have a Tylenol and sleep on the bed. Okay?”

“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up suddenly.

“Six thirty three.” The man always wanted the exact time. No rounding up or down. It was unnerving.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palms. “Fuck. Got an early meeting at eight with Noonan. Gonna be late. She’ll kill me,” he said, getting up. He hunched over the couch, hand gripping on to the leather of the headrest for support as his other hand clutches his head.

“8 PM is not an early meeting. Unless you’re talking about a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? Wait, what’s the time?”

“Six thirty. In the evening. You have a bad fever and you were asleep on the couch when I got home at five.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. Fuck. Now sit down and have some soup. You can’t have Tylenol on an empty stomach.”

“Actually, I can. The body absorbs it faster on an empty stomach.”

“Alright buddy, sit down and have the soup,” she said, coaxing him to sit next to her on the couch. He sat a bit too close to her, leaning on her shoulder and placing his weight on her.

“Feel like absolute shit,” he said, dipping the spoon into the bowl of hot soup. He blew on it once and then twice before drinking it. “So good.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, pulling her to his side. She did not want to contract whatever he had and proximity would increase the chances of infection. But she didn’t have the heart to push him away. Even on a normal day, the man liked physical contact with her. It could be anything from a hand on her back when they were out in public to full on cuddling her in bed. He just showed his affection through touch. She didn’t want to deny him affection when he was so vulnerable and soft.

He drank it down quietly, wincing every now and then from his headache. He even surprised her by asking for a second helping and she gave it to him gladly, even topping his bowl up another time when he wasn’t looking.

“Now Tylenol.”

“Nooo,” he whined, flopping back on the backrest of the couch. “Hate pills.”

She laughed and popped a pill out of the foil wrapper before handing a glass of water to him. “Aww, is the big baby afraid of pills?”

“Not scared,” he pouted and folded his arms over his chest, looking like a petulant three year old. Good god. Was this really the man being paid by the US government to catch Escobar? Or was he the secret sweet cuddly twin to her grumpy sassy Javi?

“Right. Definitely not scared. Now have it.”

“I’ll be fine without it. Just need to sleep.”

“Sure, Dr. Peña. If you say so,” she teased. She was definitely noting down all the details of his behavior in her head to tease him with later. “Can you have the liquid Tylenol?” She asked, recalling seeing a bottle of it in their medicine cabinet.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said, getting up to go fetch the Tylenol for him. Before she could step away, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked back at him to find him staring at her with those big brown eyes, all wide and precious. He was still grumpy, but less intimidating and more adorable. “I need to take my hand with me, Agente…”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t go. I miss you.”

“It’ll just be gone for a minute. I’ll get you your Tylenol and be right back.” Huffing, he finally let go of her hand. When she returned, he smiled up at her lazily before grabbing both her wrists.

“Javi…I can’t give you your medicine if you don’t let go of my hand.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this too. There is no plan C, Javier. Pill or this,” she said, holding up the bottle of the liquid acetaminophen.

“That tastes like shit.”

“Yeah. You’ll survive.”

“I wooooon’t,” he whined, pulling her onto his lap. He may be very sick, but he was still strong and worse, unaware of how much force he exerted. She fell with her face forward, smushing into his chest. She made a low sound of satisfaction before wrapping his arms around her and settling his chin on her head.

“Bebito…”

“‘m not your bebito. I’m your husband.”

“Yeah yeah. Then stop acting like a bebito, bebito.”

“Don’t do this to me. That thing tastes vile. Tastes like shit. Like, like horse shit mixed in with rat poison.”

“God, you drama queen,” she teased, adjusting herself on his lap to sit up properly. “It’s just 20 ml. Have some of it, drink some water to wash the taste off and go to bed. God knows you need the rest.”

“Fine. On one condition.”

“Uh huh?”

“Bit of whiskey after the medicine.”

Absolutely not.

“Of course, baby. All the whiskey you want,” she lied through her sweet smile. She did not have the energy to argue with a gigantic baby she couldn’t yell at. She’d make him have the medicine first and figure out the rest when she had to.

At the mention of whiskey, he smiled wider than the day they got married and happily let go of her wrists. She hissed at the dull pain around them, flushing when she realized just how strong he was. Yet he never used such strength on her, handling her gentler than this even when she asked for rough treatment. She’d have to ask for more the next time… she looked away from him embarrassed. The man was sick and delirious, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t the most appropriate time to be horny.

“Tilt your head back,” she ordered and he followed immediately, exposing his neck to her. “Now open your mouth,” she said, bringing the little cup of the liquid to his lips. It went alright for the first second, but when it touched his tastebuds, he gagged and groaned.

“Uhh that was fucking disgusting!”

“That was just 10 ml. You need another 10 for the full dosage.”

“No, no, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged before sticking his tongue out as though casting out the organ for making him experience the medicine’s taste.

“Please, Javier… Just one more, okay?” She said, pouring him the other half of the dose. “Imagine you’re taking a tequila shot.”

“Then it should be on your bellybutton with salt on your tits and a lemon wedge between your lips.”

Horndog

“Suuure. You couldn’t tell it was evening and not morning just half an hour back but you think you can do a body shot, huh?”

“Absolutely can. You didn’t know me in college. Plus I’ll do anything to lick your tits,” he said, his eyes looking too adorable for the things he said. Shouldn’t he be too sick to be horny?

“Alright big guy, open up” she said, tipping his chin back and forcing the rest of his medicine down his throat. He groaned and whined once more and summoned a couple demons with the sounds he produced.

“Tequila?” He asked, pouting as he fixed his puppy dog eyes on her.

“Sure. Go sit on the bed and I’ll bring you the goods,” she said, helping him get off the couch.

“Perfect. You’re the best wife, you know that?”

“I’m your only wife. You don’t have much else to compare me to, do you?”

“Fine, I’ll get more wives. Test the hypo- hypo…tenuse?” He asked, squinting.

“Hypothesis.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said hypotenuse. That’s the longest side of a right angled triangle.”

“The fuck,” he said under his breath, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom. When she’d gotten him to lie down, he pulled her to himself and held her to his chest. She was yet to have dinner and there was a tv program she’d wanted to watch before bed. But with his arms around her and his lips mumbling in his sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

It wasn’t often that she got to be wrapped up in his arms at this early hour. Why fight it when she could savor it.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fluff #javier peña drabble #domestic javier peña #married javier peña #pedro pascal character fanfic #narcos javier #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena x reader #javier peña imagine #all that i've inflicted on the world

[valsnonsense]

Prince Thrash Jr.

"Yo, sick lip piercing, dude!! I've been meaning to get one of those done, I just keep forgetting."

Parents: Queen Barb (Adopted) and Delta Dawn (Step-Mother)

Siblings: Honeysuckle (Younger Step-Sister), Thorn (Younger Brother)

Age: 26

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Genre: Rock/Hard Rock

Voice Claim: Jon Bon Jovi

The eldest son of Barb and Delta, Thrash Jr., or TJ, is as rock as a rock troll can get. Loud, wild, with a passion for the destruction of expensive instruments.

TJ was found by Barb as an egg, abandoned and left to die. She nursed him back to health, and when he hatched, the young kit imprinted on her. Since her father had recently passed, Barb found herself welcoming the young kits affection and named him after her late father.

TJ mainly performs as a rockstar, having back to back concerts almost every night. He loves performing though, loving the high that hearing the audience scream for him gives him every night. Though every once in a while, he'll take a few days to just SLEEP, crashing hard.

When he's not rocking out on stage, TJ secretly enjoys poetry. Something about how the words are so eloquently threaded together to form passages explaining feelings or thoughts just speaks to him. He'd rather die then tell anyone this however lol.

TJ is very close with his family. He feels protective of his parents and siblings, always working to make sure they're happy. He can go a bit overboard with this, however, driving himself to a point of exhaustion. He's been scolded for this several times.

As said above, TJ is a rock troll through and through. He loves how loud the music is, and how he can scream along with it. However, he does have a special love for Classical music, but just by the one Troll.

Thrash Jr. currently resides in Volcano Rock City, but is frequently found in Tumbleshred visiting family.

Fun Facts!

- TJ has feelings for Vanilla. Like, the man is in love. But, because of what happened to Vanilla regarding love and relationships, he knows she's adverse to them now. So, he hangs back, electing not to voice his feelings. He doesn't want to hurt her, so he'll wait as long as he needs to.

- TJ does have some self confidence issues regarding his lack of royal blood. Some older Rock Trolls don't think he should be king because he won't continue the royal bloodline, but Barb is quick to shut down that talk

- TJ loves kids. He'll often offer to babysit for parents or volunteer at daycares. He definitely wants to have a big family of his own one day.

- Biggest Mama's boy you'll ever see, on both sides. He's not ashamed to run up and give Barb and Delta big hugs in front of everyone. Real men love their mothers, don't you know that?

And that's Thrash JR.!!! God I loved designing this fucker, he's so fun. So brief story, I designed him and Honeysuckle (Delta's daughter) BEFORE I started shipping Delta/Barb. I considered redesigned both TJ and Honeysuckle to be both rock and country, but I loved their designs too much. So, Barb adopted Thrash and Delta had Honeysuckle, started dating when the two were young, then eventually got hitched and had Thorn.

Sorry this post is so late work fuckin SUCKED today hdhdhd

Voice Example: It's My Life (Bon Jovi)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls oc #trolls world tour #trolls the depths au #trolls delta x barb #delta dawn x barb #deltarb #trolls thrash jr #myart #traditional art #lookit him he go >:P #menace to society #i lobe him #his and vanillas love story is aaaaaaa i cant wait to talk about it #Spotify

[khaleesiofalicante]

HI! I FINALLY HAVE TIME! VERY TIRED BEEN UP SINCE 7 BUT REALLY WANNA READ AND LIVEBLOG CAUSE I MISS THAT SHIT

also I think I might be lactose intolerant? but I only get really fucking bad headaches, nausea and the like from milk but am pretty okay with other dairy products and it...oh wait no ice cream and yogurt also make me sick after I pass a certain limit and is this why cheese makes my stomach feel weird sometimes? okay theory, I am not TOO lactose intolerant. main problem is milk and the rest I can have in limits. makes sense.

also HOW ARE YOU?? I'VE BEEN SO SWAMPED WITH THINGS THAT I'VE SPENT MOST NIGHT SO DRAINED AND DEAD IT'S CRAZY.

BUT I DID CATCH UP ON IALS AND READ THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS OF LBAF.

alright! CHAPTER 4!!

david loml it'll be fine...probably idk man I am really scared for y'all

Alright random person...I will fight you in an abandoned parking lot for this DO NOT DO THIS SHIT

David :((

First I cry over IALS mavid...now I have to cry over lbaf mavid. what is this happening

DAVID! NO DO NOT DO THAT TO YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!

also there's this thing called Communication. Not sure y'all have heard of it though. Lmk if you need a dictionary :)

to the fucker attacking the institute, motherfucker I will literally push you off a building

maybe it's someone who wants him to not be the head of the institute for whatever reason?

Anyway Anjali so hot so efficient would literally die for her

david you good bro? God I love it when the kind ones go feral

no but srsly you good? Well no but like...Im worried. For his health. David :((

“Ask for help,” she said again. “And if you are feeling overwhelmed, take a break.”

QUEEN SHIT

“Revenge means you are being harmed in return for the suffering you’ve caused,” Anjali told him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did the right thing. So, even if it is Asmodeus, this isn’t revenge. This is an attack, David. And I intend to put an end to it.”

God I love it when women

the picture I WILL SOB DO NOT DO THIS TO ME

Them :((

“Why do people call me baby boy or baby girl?” David wondered out loud.

AJHSHUIDC JACE

petition to only call david baby boy or baby girl from now on

I've been watching The Crown (it took me three days to get through episode 1 but let's not talk about that) so I am literally hearing all the dialogues in with an english accent. It's...something

Some people drank alcohol to relax. David drank tea.

Bitch same.

I've lately fallen in love with Earl Gray. I drink it while I'm studying. I sit down at my desk with my tea and only then do I get to work. Helps me focus and keep my anxiety at bay. Good shit.

same energy as me realising how quickly I had been going through my tea. I...I've been way too stressed lately too, hon. NOT THIS WEEKEND THOUGH HHAHA

he would love a cake <3

oh to have someone buy me overpriced magic chocolate

DARK?? HUH

prince...?

WJAT IS HAPPENING WOMAN EXPLAIN

that's so romantic though 🥺

LEVI?? TIS YOU??

in my relating a bit too much to david era kjkcuhud

Bitch I know you're stressed as fuck so like?? TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF?? Srsly, shit's really hard rn for you and it's gonna get harder. Take a nap or something

“Mon ange,” David chuckled and pointed at the screen. “He went back in time and is literally trying to sleep with his own mother.”

I AM SORRY, WHO IS DOING WHAT NOW

NOT NOW! FUCK NO!

not the ICE CREAM

also yeeeeeeeeeee camilaaaaaaaaaa

david and anjali wedding CRYING SOBBING SHAKING LOOK AT THEM

that's a really long proposal dude you're not writing an essay

 “My fave power couple is getting hitched. Do it soon!”

Live footage of me

omg the talk with the parents huduifuifugiugf

I love rafe so muvh omg

anjali truly the best person out there

THEM OH MY GOD THEM

I am so soft rn no one talk to me

Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.

SOBBING

they're so amazing I could cry

how bout I punch Kingsley

Oooo marcus

marcus is kinda cool though. I'll probably not like him by the end of this but still

what...what is he working on

what the fuck you on dude?

i love camila so much

damn girl!!

oh marcus...Yeah I remember now what he was doing...

ah yes, the seashell

cool motives but like...that's not gonna happen

we don't live in a perfect world bud. exploitation and prejudice are the first two words that come to my mind when I think of his thoughts becoming a reality.

He didn’t like it when Mallory was in a bad mood. He wanted her to be happy.

Mal in a bad book ends horribly for every person she has ever interacted with

DON'T SMOKE

I was watching The Crown and George is LIKE SICK AS FUCK MAN IS DYING LEAVING BEHIND A DAUGHTER NOT PREPARED FOR THE CROWN JUST YET AND HE'S SMOKING. Sir you just went through a surgery to remove one of your lungs?? you have cancer?? You're coughing up blood?? AND YOU'RE SMOKING!!!

"I know," she smiled at him. "My destiny is Max."

Oh no...I will stab :)

“I’ll ask Jeff to ready the jet,” he smiled at her.

The...what...that is so bad for the environment dude I'm pretty sure there is a beach in New York...I forgot how rich they were for a second there...Taylor swift core

Sometimes...you just wanna get stabby with someone...the someone is two someones...

If they do something to Anjali...

Sigh

AYY IT'S SELENA AND GIGI

AND LEXI

lexi...I love you so much but please...just talk to liv about this

YOU CAN'T DO SHIT LIKE THIS OH MY GOD

lexi YOU CAN FUCKING FLY

I will repeat advice I gave in part 2 (?). Fly there, tell her, fly away.

:)

gabriel and selena >>>>

“Relationship drama waits for no one,” Selena huffed. “Besides, stop making excuses, Lex. Just do it.”

putting off stuff like this makes it so SO much worse lex.

LIV AND LEX ARE SO AMAZING

OH I HAVE A STORY

We threw a farewell for someone right? and that day my friends and I were all sitting together and one of us had a permanant marker so like rational people, we wrote on our hands. I wasn't sure what to write but then I remembered seeing an anon say that their shipname should be lixi so that is what ended up going on the place underneath my thumb. You know where you can feel the bone? I wrote "Lixi" right there. Nice day that was.

which reminds me I need to make plans for my birthday next week with my friends-

ANYWAY

No amount of biceps or boobs will distract her today.

me to me every morning

and I love you guys <33

The man went to Idris to talk to the Inquisitor.

Good luck and god bless!

SCREAMING

Lexi stared at the numbers. It gave her a fucking headache

Me in maths everyday.

My math test went so well today I got everything right EXCEPT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO SOLVE THE LAST PART OF THE LAST QUESTION I HAD THE TIME I SIMPLY DID NOT REMEMBER TO SOLVE IT FURTHER I WILL THROW MYSELF FROM A CLIFF

ahem

“Wait,” Lexi said. “Are you saying these are not demon attacks?”

Imma get the knives

Lexi was going to help Gabriel figure this out. She was going to find out who was hurting her brother like this.

Hurting him with paperwork!

And she was going to kick their ass!

AHHUKDCUIFV HELL YEAH LEX

lots of blob thingies

“Have you guys seen shadow demons? They’re the demons of Lucifer.”

foreshadowing

I am sorry they materialized WHERE

grabriel is so cool omg

THE SONG CHOICE YES

She was talking about some issue with the warlocks in LA not being able to use magic

foreshadowing

lexi NO METAPHORS PLEASE

Lex I told you not to go with metaphors...sigh

this is really entertaining though.

LMAOO LEXI PLEASE-

Oh. OH DISCOVERY

Shit. white...who's magic is white?

FUCKING HELL

and on this note a very good night I can't wait to sleep. LOVE YOU!

Evieeeee. I missed your live blogs so much 😭😭😭

Here is a meme that perfectly captures my reaction to it

I like the live blog too akskskssm but the random gossip 😍😍😍

Your Lexi energy is unmatched 😎

#lbaf

[benefits1986]

8 Sundays

What will you do if you get 8 Sundays a month?

Dad rewatched Seven Sundays as a Netflix weekend warrior. I asked him why on earth he rewatched this. He even shared it to his siblings via GC. LUH. Dad has been worried about how 2024 has been going to think it's just January. I laughed and consoled him in the best way I can. So as long as we're able to afford the AC, pay the bills, look after the doggo babes and bike around, we're doing okay.

Dad has been more sentimental the past year. LOL. I cannot. CHOZ lang. I told him that it's because death, sickness and life shit balls are coming more and more because we're aging. It's not easy, but, we've come a long way after losing mother dragon, so, I guess, we're a bit wiser. He is slowly realizing that we didn't grieve the right way, but, it's okay. We're here and now; and I guess, we're also in a better stance because we're able to talk about this chapter we tried to override. Hahaha. Oh, boomer parentals! You fuckers. I told him that a child losing his/her mother is gonna be a game-changing feat a good number of times; but, now, it's sinking within him.

Natatawa pa rin ako 'pag naluluha siya out of nowhere. Hahaha. But, I say this with compassion and peace. I am trying my very best to be there for him lalo when he has a new apo na ambilis lumaki. Sana makapag-bike na kami netong batang ito soon. Para madapa na at masugatan at matuto ng takbo ng tunay na buhay pero in a free play, free verse kind of vibe as a tita sa tabi-tabi tayo. Dad asked me if I'd look after his new apo. Sabi ko no. Never. LOL. Syempre, low-key tayo e.

My brother updated me about his kidney kagulo. Syempre, anxiety levels 1000000 siya. Told him to take it easy lang din and just ask the right questions so that he'd be able to look after himself better. Funny how he sat beside one kidney patient who shared that one kidney is going strong as a senior. Not bad, I said. Kaya naman mabuhay ng isang kidney lang talaga e. LOL. I know that more than the results, my brother is so worried as a dad of two growing kiddos. I really hope that he lives up to the expectation na 'di based sa standards ng society na obviously, too glossed and masyadong maraming echos. May he be in his best shape and size. Hahahaha.

Longevity is the key muna as a baseline talaga e. Paano ka magaalaga kung ikaw ay alagaain? Paano? While funds naman talaga is #1, naniniwala akong best health is the true #1. Tignan mo 'yung mga saks lang or sadsad lang sa buhay na walang medical condition, payak pero push. 'Di naman din 'yan about sa dami ng meron ka, andun 'yan sa kung anong ginagawa mo sa meron ka. Ako lang naman 'yun. Ibang usapan naman din 'yung tuition at iba pang kaganapan sa usapang buhay pamilya. '

Yung school naman, for me lang a, wala sa exclusive or non-exclusive 'yan. Kasi the best classroom is the classroom outside school. Ako lang ulit 'yun. Not forcing it on anyone. Social skills, hard skills and soft skills talaga ang labanan sa totoong buhay. Pati life na analog and digital. Ako lang ulit 'yun based sa mga nakikita ko at nakukwento sa akin. Pati nga college degree ngayon even grad school, in question na rin given sobrang daming kaganapan sa mundong ibabaw.

Tinanong kasi ako kung anong magandang course ng panganay nila sa college. Sabi ko malay ko ba. Hahahaha. Kidding aside, sabi ko, tignan nila anong skills ni panganay and angle nila sa course na may laban sa advent of AI. 'Yun lang talaga. And if kaya, expose panganay to more social spaces kung saan mate-test paano siya mag-interact and mag-adapt. Maka-advice akala mo may anak ako e, ano po. :D Hirap sumagot ng 'di ko naman takada talaga kaso wala e. Nag-caveat naman akong eto e opinyon ko lamang since tinanong ako.

I'll continue to be the low-key Ate as much as I can. Parang spare tire lang e. :p But, I'm also trying my best to let my brother learn at his own pace since he married. He has to earn his stripes no matter how tough it gets. His kids are looking up to him, so, he has to shape up talaga. Hoping that his lab results will tell him that everything's fine and that he just needs to look after himself better and faster. Let's see! Gusto ko na ring malaman ano ang totoong lagay para matawid na 'to ASAP. Pupunta pa akong Japan e. :P

Tawang-tawa ako kasi the doctor asked him if he carried something heavy nung nagka-blood wiwi niya. 'Yung anak lang daw niya kinarga niya. LOL. Sabi ko, am na lang painom kay bunso para gumaan as a batang may laban. CHOZ. 'Di madali maging ama lalo na sa panahon ngayon talaga. E nasaktuhan pang may bagong bagets so mas nakakatuliro. Aso ko nga 'pag may something, sobrang affected ako e. Bata pa kaya 'di ba? Saka dogs short-lived lives lang. Bata, syempre, gusto mo makita mong mag-grow into a decent adult.

Ayun lang naman forda boys in my life. :) Andun na rin ako sa point na 'di na ako masyadong agit when I hear their hanash. Valid naman e. 'Di kasi talaga ako ma-share ng problems and ganaps ko kaya nung nikwento ko sa kapatid ko 'yung 2019 colonscopy era ko I did on my own end to end, nagulat. Bakit daw 'di ko sinabi. Sabi ko naman: Ngayon ko lang sinabi para alam mong may mga pinagdadaanan talagang health stuff kasi it comes with age; and that, pink na pink po ang ating colon bilang stress-induced gastritis which means lifestyle change lang ang reco ni acclang doc. :P Sabi ko rin taasan muna niya dose ng anti-anxiety meds niya since okay lang naman din sabi ng doc lalo 'pag may mga pivots na anxiety-inducing. Sana makinig. Abangan!

I don't see these pakawala ng mga ganaps ng boys in my life as problems na malala. Realities lang talaga ito. Part of growing up and growing old. Sana ganun din nila tignan. O baka jaded na naman ako. LOL. LUH.

Kung may 8 Sundays a month ako, anong gagawin ko? Outside Manila syempre. Saka more time for the things I love most. 'Yun lang.

I love how the sun this morning brings a soft glow in our tiny Manila home. Iba e. Tama nga siguro nanay ko. Get a house na facing the sunrise. :) I love how my doggo babes are calmer na rin. I love how my Mumford & Sons Radio PL is giving kalma mo lang, gurl vibes. NP: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room - John Mayer. Opakkkk. Ayus e. Hahaha. I love how Vidi's anxiety is at bay, too. Dun na lang muna tayo sa tiny details na worthwhile mag-pause for for now. Can't wait to go out of Manila kahit saglit!!! <3

[scentedchildnacho]

She told me her dad makes mashed bananas with honey so her complexion gets so colorful so I said yes if my birth father would cook then we can have poor arts like gathered wood and real home pop corn on the stove......my mother took care of us though a baked potato with only butter and salt like greek medicinal films if sick or depressed so the allergen goes away....my friends were smokers so the bad people are who teach me the jesus of materialism always better....and aquisition but if its my mother then i get rest philosophy and what is it.......

She told me I should go to my mom....so I told her the story was genocidal not new York fantasies that the poor white is the Jew...its the Jew that does not always report itself to taxation the poor white is truly a third story....

My mother's life got to change it's a sad southern almost incest story for women to live with their mother....women are not men men own the house and take care of their mother like a good boy does it doesn't work that way for women....

My mother is like padre pio....you shouldn't torment her anymore with obligation to me and others....it's job bitch cop medical fucker that hasn't pulled its maturation promise to me and given me an lgbt family after all it's done to me....don't confuse my mother with cop complexes...my mother did pay her debt to me...

Jhumpa lahiri to speculate on Asian overachievement all these parts of my education can be stripped out it's you all as a human family that have failed to create a decent story not my mother to me....

That would be the women's health clinic that has refused to pay a tobacco settlement for barbaric humor and at times selective cruelty you all for pap retard has to finally pay a taxation not live out fantasies of battering me to lobotomy and Zionist saveing me shame on you to me and yourself

That would be hells angels it's white that learns African illegal worlds and shows off it can do some pretty mean stuff

He said he goes to the krishna's and wants to be a vegetarian or vegan so I told him he is going to have to consult an african grocery about that because most United States cultures are of hunting....Indians to Africans do find their emigration a useable disruption to be included in their dominance but Austin there was not agricultural theory without Africans and you will get a wicked nutrient deficit without Africans....

Sweden to Dakota my grandmother could trace her family to Gustavus Adolphus for Sweden's research with serial killers you just don't think women exist....

I'm not joking about Danny boy good Jewish boy.....he is always with us if there are chicks to compound and cult good Jewish boy is always with us with his business degree and neo Nazi position of pay and he dominates the mentals with his psychiatric ability...I am not Danny boy and cult of narcissism doesn't owe nobody anything

Ep Thompson the debt is in agency the truth is they don't know how to create a contemporary women's culture and I have had to create that possibility and they paid nothing to be ass for Jew boy charm....

I told her pacific beach is a very awful place for homeless Tucson is much better the emigration there at least tried to strengthen women and force men away from them...that's men everything is theirs and they suffer all the time for it

She was like why did ya leave...no where else had to leave poor women alone with placenta aids COVID...men...and so there kept being constant refugees to finally not have creeps like men that win off women and then can't pay anything to anyone the shelters in Texas are the most unsanitary and they stalk surrounding states with their refusals to stop being a tuberculin capital

I'm 42 and I swear I'm like I will be dead in 30 years or less and if people expect me to spend the remaining years of my life with harassive repetiive queers who don't think I can ever have a life I also would go sleep on the street of a foriegn city then ever hear go die at your mothers of some bad name given to you

David I love david I will then get some career certificate and die in four years of over stimulation then God

I will then get a landscaping certificate and go dig up all the mines the water hoses that keep shooting people and entry level mechanic and break all the lights that won't stop shooting at you and then just go die

Joining the military is better then gross cellulite stag ass down at the restaurant telling ya off...they were migrants did they let you in as you ran from militants or did gross bitch ass cellulite lock the door on ya till stag beat

Always remind bitch privilege down at the restaurant that it could not do for you what was done for it

The jobs are harassed migrants and the hotel said okay come in they will protect you did they do that for us no....left us out to die of those night stalker things

She asked me if I had ever been in a shelter in Portland or Washington..........so I said my friends really into addiction like really awful crank reefer alcoholism in high school liked it out there so I have always avoided it because they gave it a really bad helter skelter name like a haven for right wing pregnancy and other creepy dealer shit like they get to go to the legalize company and you can die of pesticide baggies

Helter skelter getting high in vans and birthing in Portland...

The south east not north west is where whites can have a confederate sanctuary....that part of the United States is where whites may think they can be in a better efficient sanitary world Portland is that lady that gets high in her van down by the river and learns lyndie england Stanford creepyness....

Right wing creepyness ya know it can get high and be with male dealers not her baby daddy a lot but still stalk up and say it's her and his fantasy....

That type of Jerry Springer stuff immigration scary I don't enjoy the West Coast and only do it because it's a necessary means to an end

Edward said...because he is a voice of authority about fixing what is without complaining and not ever having to fantasize there is anything else in life and I think that creepy Darwin frietal Zionist shit I came across in Ruidoso won't stop stalking me with Armageddon bullshit

But up on the mountain God finally cares there there will finally be a nuclear new deal Zionist freakshow

[sparkycanteven]

The TrueChristian Reddit can eat my entire ass and I say that as a 100% card carrying Christian.

It's not TrueChristian it's more like TrueChristianNationalistAntichoicers. I just got banned for giving a legal but non-biblical response to a question about whether or not the 10 year old in Ohio should have been allowed to get an abortion.

YES.

And I will say it again for you assholes in the back. YES!

A 10 year old cannot legally consent to a sexual act. They can be coerced, but they cannot give legal consent to actually be with a person who is an adult. For those of you arguing about "Mother Mary" you have to remember that Mary had been preparing for her role as a wife and a Mom for YEARS and it made sense in the context of the situation. Thousands of years ago is not today, no child is mentally, emotionally, or physically able to withstand childbirth when they are THAT YOUNG and should have access to reproductive health care!!!

And for those alleged pro-life anti-choice peeps out there who view the pregnancy of a 10 year old as an opportunity to "make better choices" you can kiss my ass. That CHILD CANNOT make a CHOICE and let me remind you of exactly what Jesus Himself said about abortion in the New Testament:

...Oh that's right...

The son of God Himself didn't say shit. And I am pretty sure that abortion in some form existed in His day as well, in fact his Father gave us a nice recipe for it back in the old testament, remember the whole verse about bitter waters? Yeah that was an abortion. Fuck you to those of you who think it wasn't.

But that argument is irrelevant.

You know why you view a 10 year old's pregnancy as an opportunity? Because you fuckers FETISHIZE "innocent life", the only reason you want new blood is because you want new people that you can train up in"the right way" so that you have a new VOTING BLOCK. You don't like the old one, you don't like how informed we are and how you aren't able to pull the wool over our eyes so you will force us to give birth to a new generation that you can do exactly that to.

Ya'll wanna say the quiet part out loud now? I'm saying the quiet part out loud.

Ya'll accuse people of the left of being groomers but GROOMING IS THE EXACT REASON THE RIGHT WANTS MORE BABIES BORN!!! Ya'll think if you have enough "white people" who think your way that you won't die off or be bred out. The fact of the matter is, ya'll just feel threatened and don't want "the browning of America" to happen in 2050. You are fucking pathetic and it is not, not was it EVER about the lives of actual children. If it was we would not have nearly half a million kids in foster care, the only reason that these supposed "Christian families" won't adopt them is because usually they are black, brown, or neurodivergent. Also, I am not counting babies from other countries who get adopted - check our own adoption system statistics and not ones that you would get from Fox News either. Check US foster care statistics, please.

Don't come at me with "not all Christians" because in order to be taken seriously we have to fucking fix our shit, take a letter from Christ Himself and realize that His Kingdom is NOT OF THIS EARTH so he literally doesn't give a shit about our politics, and step the hell out of government and let rule of law preside again and stop gaslighting lawmakers into doing your fucking bidding! My government is not your church service! I believe in the same God that you do and I am ALLOWED to CALL YOU OUT!!!

How about from now on, if the Bible doesn't say shit about it, we don't either. I am so sick of you fuckers co-opting my religion into something that it was NEVER supposed to BE!!!

#hot take #christians #christian progressive #christian liberal #christian conservative #fuck christian nationalism #ya'll asked for this

[appraisedtiktoks]

#thedarcymichael #video #tik tok #funny #meme #tw staring #staring #adhd #adhd culture #tw cursing #he said in sickness and in health mother fucker #lgbtq community #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq positivity #adhd tag #adhd brain #medication mention #pills mention #honestly same tho #cc included #closed captions included

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

late night calls

Summary: It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Plus size reader

Wordcount: 4.1k+

Warnings: fluff, phone sex, mentions of bomb attacks, sexism, self doubt, yearning?

A/N: I know that probably more time passed between the bombing and Javier being send back to the states but I chose to ignore it. For the plot. Hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist

*taglist in reblog

You still weren’t used to the heat. Yes, you did move to Texas because you wanted a fresh start. But the fucking heat would take some time to get used to. Nothing was holding you back in Maine. You had spent the last years taking care of your sick mother. She had died just before Christmas and with her all the family you had left. 

So coming with the new year you took a leap of faith, packed your things, and moved to a little town close to the Mexican border. You got a job at the local police station as a secretary that made a decent sum of money each month. Life was good. At least you told yourself so. 

You had made a couple of friends. Mostly the older generation of the town. You weren’t big on going out, nor had the town a big nightlife in the first place. That’s why you insisted on taking care of Chucho after he told you one day at the diner that he had to get a hip replacement. His wife had died a long time ago and his son wasn’t able to leave work.

“Don’t you have some better stuff to do cariño?” He had asked.

“What better way to start your day than on your Farm, Senior Peña.” You had winked at him.

Chucho might have been a stubborn old man, but once he got out of surgery and was in pain he was thankful that he accepted your help. That was also the first time you heard him talk about his son. Javier.

“Be a dear and call him to tell him I’m okay?” He had mumbled before he dozed off again. You had chuckled, kissed his cheek before you left him for the day to went over to his farm. Once you had taken care of everything for the day you sat down on his kitchen island and grabbed the phone, dialing the first number he had written down.

You had suggested moving into his place in his recovery time. It was a beautiful place. Mexico was just on the other side of the river down the property. But the best part about this place was the air conditioning. Okay… You really loved this place and it definitely was an upgrade to the small apartment you were renting in the city. 

Waiting for his son to pick up the phone you wondered what kind of job he would have that he wasn’t able to take care of his father. You didn’t judge him, okay maybe a little, you were more curious. You had seen some pictures of him spread through the house. But you had never asked about him.

“DEA Office, how may I help you?” A woman answered your call.

“Uhm… Is Javier Peña available? It’s about his father,” you tried.

“Oh of course. Agent Peña just got in. Please hold.”

Agent Peña? DEA? You had so many questions but they died on your tongue when the call connected again.

“This is Peña.” A deep voice said. He reminded you of his father.

“Hello Mr. Peña. I’m only calling to let you know that your father’s surgery went fine. He wanted me to forward this to you.”

“Javier, please. Not even my father likes to be called Mr. Peña.” 

“Oh I noticed that,” you chuckled.

“He’s fine yeah?” You heard something shuffle on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. Already made some jokes and told me to make sure I feed the horses in the right order.”

“You’re taking care of the horses?”

“Yeah. I’m temporarily moving in to help your father.”

“That’s very nice of you. He never told me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” You got up and took out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m only here for the air conditioning.” You joked. He laughed.

“Fuck I miss air conditioning. Hold on.” You sat down again, hearing only damp voices.

“Fuck. I need to go. Please call me if something comes up. Dad has my home number too, right?” He was speaking quickly and you wondered what was happening. 

“Yes, he wrote it down for me. Everything okay?”

“Yeah hopefully. Just some work stuff. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Will do Javier.”

Chucho got home a week later and he was the worst at listening to doctors’ orders. You still had to go into the station to work, but you spend your whole time worrying about him. It was funny to you how he seemingly had become a father figure to you in less than a couple of weeks. 

Of course you found him standing at the kitchen counter when you got to the ranch, the phone tugged between his shoulder and his ear, making himself a sandwich.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I was. Then Javi called and I got hungry.” 

“Stubborn old man,” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I brought dinner.”

“Fine. Here. Javi wants to say Hello,” he handed you the phone before he slowly trotted towards the couch. Shaking your head you put the phone to your ear.

“You are really strict with him,” Javier said.

“Someone has to. Are all you Peña men this stubborn?” 

He chuckled. “You have no idea. How is he doing?”

“Overall good. Not complaining as much as in the beginning but then again I am bribing him with my delicious cooking.”

Javier and you had spoken to each other at least two times per week since the first time you called to tell him about his father’s surgery. You learned that he was a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar. You learned that he was feeling guilty about not being there for his father and to take care of the ranch. You learned lots of things about Javier Peña. 

“Ah... Delicious cooking. Maybe one day you get to cook for me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, hearing him take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably. 

“Just that my father is praising your cooking so much I wonder if it really is that good.”

“Oh, it is, Peña.” You found yourself smiling. You heard him sigh.

“Everything’s okay over there?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. Definitely a lie. You nodded.

“You wanna stay on the phone while I prepare dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

The better Chucho got, the longer the phone calls between Javier and you seem to get. It was mostly at night after he got home from whatever he had been doing at work that day intending to check in on his father. But after a few sentences, he asked about your day. About how you felt. What your plans for the coming weekend were. 

“You sound exhausted Hermosa,” he sighed. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted was to grab a pint of ice cream and drown your sorrows.

“Just the usual sexist bullshit at the PD,” you groaned.

“Want me to kill them?” Javier joked.

“You take care of your nemesis, I take care of mine. But I appreciate the help.” You sat down on your bed, knowing that this was usually the room he occupied when he was here to visit his father. 

“Noted. But if it’s any help, I had a shit day too. They seem to get more frequent the longer I stay in this shithole.”

“Maybe you have to focus on the good things of being in this country. There have to be some. The food probably. I always enjoy new food. Maybe go to a museum? I don’t want to intrude but you don’t seem like you do anything besides work and well…”

It was pure accident that you had heard the voice of a woman one night when you had called him for a change. You knew that he looked good, you had seen the pictures, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that he did have a girlfriend. He clarified that he didn’t, that this was just a woman he got intel from. You didn’t ask any more questions, it wasn’t your right. That it hurt to think of him and another woman was something you chose to ignore.

“I never thanked you,” Javier said. You let yourself fall back into bed, staring at the stars outside the window.

“What for?” you asked quietly.

“Thanking care of Dad and the ranch. Listening to my drunken ramblings. You’re a good friend,” he said. You smiled, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

“You’re a good friend too, Javi.”

Chucho didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Not when he was back to his old health after a couple of months. But he had asked you to move in with him anyway. And you loved to live with the old man. Enjoying not being on your own all the time. And you loved helping him out at the ranch. The PD was still getting on your nerves and you were seriously considering just quitting.

“I hate it. I fucking hate it. I get one dumb line after another, just because I’m a woman. That I helped to get together the evidence to put that fucker away that killed all those women last year is not even of interest. FUCK!” you complained to Chucho. He knew about all of this already. Yet he jumped from his seat when he saw that you did cut yourself while making dinner.

“Careful.” He took your hand in his, leading you over to the sink to look at your wound. It didn’t hurt that much. 

“What about if I take care of dinner today, and you go and take a bath? Javier is probably gonna call in a bit…” Chucho winked, putting a bandaid on your finger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned.

“Just that I see the way you smile every time my son calls.”

“Two whole days off? What are you gonna do with yourself?” You joked. You were laying in the bathtub, the phone in your hand as you talked to Javier.

“Don’t know. I feel like I need a home-cooked meal so I’m gonna nag Connie to cook one.”

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“Is that water I hear?” he asked and you blushed. Why? You didn’t know. You had undressed numerous times while on the phone with him, but being completely naked and him knowing about it…

“I’m in the bathtub. Chucho’s orders. He’s making dinner before I kill myself doing it.”

You were met with silence.

“You okay, Javi?” You sucked your bottom lip in. “I did only cut my finger,” you joked.

“Just trying to get the picture of you naked in the bathtub out of my head.”

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Doesn’t matter. All I need is to hear your voice and I’m hard…”

“Javi…” you whispered, feeling hot all of the sudden.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“If you think about me? Because you are on my mind all the time. I keep picturing how you look. If you have long hair or short hair. What color your eyes have. If your smile is only half as beautiful as your laugh. Fuck… I just wanna see you. I wanna feel you. I wanna taste you Hermosa.” 

Unintentionally your unoccupied hand had made its way down your body, your breath coming in short pants.

“Keep talking Javier…” you whispered, your hand slipping in between your legs.

“I want to touch you. Fuck I bet your skin is so soft. I’d worship you. I stay up at night wondering if I could fit your boobs in my hands. What sound you would make when I close my mouth around your nipple…”

“Shit Javi…” You moaned.

“I wonder how you taste. Are you wet for me baby?” he asked and you heard a zipper being undone on his end of the line.

“So wet. You always make me wet. I touch myself when we get off the phone, wondering how it would feel to have you here…” you whimpered.

“I would have fucked you on every flat surface in the house if I was there. The thought of you sleeping in my bed is making me lose my mind.”

You circled your clit with your fingers, a low moan coming from your lips.

“I wonder how you feel wrapped around my cock. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum. I want to hear it so badly…” You were sure he was fucking his hand and you whimpered at the thought.

“I wish it was my hand wrapped around your big cock right now. God, I wish it was your hand between my legs and not mine…” You bit your lips, keeping yourself quiet.

“Put two fingers into that cunt and make yourself cum. I wanna hear you…” he groaned on the phone. 

“Fuck Javi…” you cried quietly, two fingers inside your cunt. “I wish it was your cock and not my fingers.”

“Me too… Me too babe.” he moaned. “Circle that clit for me. Cum for me.”

Circling your clit you almost let the phone fall into the tub when you came with a low moan. You heard him cry out your name on the other end of the line before all that was heard was both of your heavy breathing. 

“Javi…?” you asked after a while, still high from one of the best orgasms you ever had. You heard the familiar sound of him lighting a cigarette.

“I meant every single word Hermosa. I want you.” You never thought you would hear these words from him or any man for that matter. You weren’t a typical beauty. You weren’t skinny, you loved food and your curves showed it. On most days you were happy with the way you looked. But you also knew how Javier looked. He was an attractive man and you knew he did indeed have a new woman every other night if he felt like it. He might be interested now, but once he would meet you, there was no way he would make true to all the things he said.

“You’re quiet.” he noticed.

“Yeah. Just coming down from the best orgasm I’ve had in a while,” you joked and he sighed.

“I might not see you, but I know that you’re lying.”

“Okay, it was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“Hermosa…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me enjoy the illusion of a handsome DEA Agent being interested in little ol’ me.”

“I’ll make sure you believe that it isn’t an illusion until we do see each other.”

Months went by and by now you were pretty sure you were in love with Javier Peña. The phone bill was taking dimensions you were almost guilty about, but Chucho only smiled not taking your money, telling you to make his boy happy. Safe to say he approved.

You had told him about your insecurities and Javier made sure to tell you every time you talked to each other that it didn’t matter how you looked. He told you that you could be green and he’d still go down on you the first time he would meet you.

And you wanted to believe him, you really did. You had told him how you looked after he tried to talk you into sending pictures of yourself “with or without clothes, I don’t care. Though you can guess what I prefer.” he had teased. Javier never made a secret about how much he liked you. Enjoyed talking to you. He told you he had stopped sleeping around for god’s sake. 

He was supposed to visit his father in a couple of weeks and the more time passed, the more nervous you became. You didn’t doubt that he meant every single word he said to you. It was years of being on the receiving end of jokes and being the ugly friend that automatically let you feel like you weren’t good enough.

The worst part was that you knew, deep down, that you were beautiful. You loved how you looked. But there still was this voice inside your head, telling you that you would never be good enough for anyone. That there was no way someone would ever fall in love with you.

It was a typical morning at work. You had your coffee and all the files you had to update. Javier had talked to you until you fell asleep, telling you that he felt like he was failing in taking Escobar down. He didn’t tell you much, not wanting you to worry or to risk someone listening, but you could tell that he was exhausted. “I fucked up, Hermosa. I really fucked up and I have no idea how to fix this,” were the words that he had whispered to you in the middle of the night. 

You didn’t ask what he meant, just telling him that you’d be there for him, no matter what.

Typing as usual you stopped as the song on the radio was, interrupted by a news report of a bombing in Bogota, Colombia. You knew that there were bombings all the time over there, and Javier always assured you that he was perfectly fine. But with how he was last night, you had a bad feeling.

“Fuck. When are they going to stop that shit over there? If I was there I’d caught Escobar years ago,” one of the officers said. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Isn’t Chucho’s son over there pretty face?” The officer stopped in front of your desk and you opened your eyes.

“Yeah he is,” you said.

“Maybe if he would know how to do his job, shit like that wouldn’t go down like that,” he grinned and you wanted to stop, but your hand was faster. Slapping his cheek you got off your seat.

“And maybe if you would know how to use your dick your wife wouldn’t fuck your colleague over there, but you’ll never know, right?” You grinned, picking your purse and walking out.

“I’m taking today off.” You yelled over your shoulder as you walked to your car.

Javier didn’t pick up the phone. Which wasn’t what concerned you on the first day. He would have to deal with the shit that had happened over there. But when three days passed and you could see Chucho getting nervous as well you became restless. The ranch had never been so spotless. The horses had been fed in record time, and you took long rides along the river. If something had happened to him someone would have called, right? You couldn’t even reach his partner Murphy who you had talked to occasionally when Javier wasn’t at his desk. 

When a week passed and you hadn’t heard anything you were close to making your way to the airport to just fly down there. What if he died? What if he was gone and you hadn’t told him that you loved him? That you fell in love with a man you had never met before? Getting off the horse you sat down at the tree closest to the river. It was quiet here. This was the outer area of Chucho’s ranch, your favorite spot. You had joked about building a house here once when you were out with the old man and he had agreed that it would be the perfect spot. Sighing you drank from the bottle of water you brought.

Where the fuck are you Javier?

Another week went by without any sign of life from him. You had called the DEA office again but no one seemed to be able to give you an answer. You were growing restless. Working seemed to be the only thing that could get you off the spiraling thoughts of what if? You really had it bad for the man. Shaking your head to yourself you sighed as you parked your car on the usual spot in front of the ranch. Chucho’s truck was gone, he had a doctor's appointment to check on his hip and would meet his lady friend for dinner afterward. You had met her, Estella, once. She was a beautiful woman and Chucho seemed very happy with her. With a sad smile you killed the engine, getting out of the car. On your way to the house you groaned, turning around because you forgot your take out. You weren’t in the mood to cook and the pizza from that place that Javier had told you about was the best you had ever had. While you opened the passenger door of your car you heard the front door of the house open.

Shit. Burglars? You didn’t have anything on you, you could use as a gun. You knew you could probably make it to the horse stable to find something, but not in these fucking heels. Why did you wear these fucking heels? Maybe you could make them choke on the pizza? But then again you were looking forward to eating it. 

“Just take what you want, I won’t look.” You called over your shoulder, hoping to just be spared for the day. Closing your eyes you sighed when you were met with no reaction. You heard footsteps on the porch that stopped.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit today. So either take whatever the fuck you want or kill me….” you turned around and all the words died on your lips.

Standing there, leaning against the porch was no other than Javier fucking Peña. Alive. And looking even better than on the various pictures hanging in the house. He was bare feet, wearing tight jeans and a green shirt that was half undone. Opening your mouth to talk, all that came out was a gasp. He looked at you, his eyes mirroring the million emotions inside of you. Looking down at yourself you felt shy all of the sudden. This isn’t how you imagined meeting him for the first time. You wanted to be pretty. To wear some spanx. To have some make-up on. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep. You were happy to see him, you really were. But the ride of emotions you had gone through in the last couple of days took hold of you. Walking quickly towards him, you pushed against his chest, the air leaving his lungs in a puff.

“You fucking idiot. I thought you died.” You pushed him again.

“Do you have any idea how awful I felt since I heard the news of the bombing? You…” You pushed against his chest again, but this time he was faster, grabbing your wrists as he looked down at you. You felt the tears in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. Almost a year of phone calls and now he was standing here in front of you. Alive and warm. And smelling so fucking good.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding both of your wrists against his chest as he looked at you. 

“I should have called but I told you I fucked up. Badly. And I had to fix it and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and fuck… you’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” he smiled a little.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You huffed, still annoyed.

“No?” he asked teasingly, smirking at you as he leaned down. You shook your head, biting your lip. God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“Can I at least try?” he asked, his lips brushing over your temple. You swallowed, shivering when you felt his cheek against yours. Fuck. Why did he smell so good?

“You may try, but I’m really, really mad at you Javier.”

You closed your eyes when he released your wrists and put one of his hands on your back to push you closer against him. He kissed your cheek before he straightened to his full height and looked down at you, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry,” he teased before he leaned down to kiss you. You melted against him, your hands running up his chest, holding on to the back of his neck as one hand ran through his hair, to pull him down. Kissing him didn’t come close to anything you could have imagined, his tongue parting your lips and you couldn’t help the moan against his lips. 

“Still angry?” he whispered out of breath against your lips.

“Slightly less angry,” you whispered back before you found yourself in his arms as he carried you into the house.

#my writing #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x reader #Javier Pena x you #pedro pascal #javier pena x plus size reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[itsxxalexx]

Prompt list

Hey people here’s my prompt list

1. “I can’t lose you, not over this”

2. “What if I bought us a duck?”

3. “Are you…Crying?”

4. “I’m sorry”

5. “WHO LEFT THE TURKEY IN THE OVEN?!”

6. “You had one job”

7. “Well fucking fuck”

8. “Darling, I am the devil”

9. “It’s midnight”

10. “Let’s get drunk!”

11. “If you walk out that door… Don’t come back”

12. “Bitch, get the hell out of my way”

13. “At the end of the day it’s my bed he’s crawling back into”

14. “You’re such a snake”

15. “I am suffering! Why can’t you see that?”

16. “You make Voldemort look innocent”

17. “If your ego was as big as your dick, you’d be a narcissist”

18. “Please don’t push me away”

19. “I love you more than I love food”

20. “Your stuck with me”

21. “Fuck you!”

22. “I hate you”

23. “You ruined my life”

24. “Don’t leave me”

25. “I am trying to protect you!”

26. “Thank you, for everything”

27. “How can I love someone I hate so much?”

28. “You are so hot”

29. “Hey! You promised to stick by me in sickness and in health and I feel like I’m dying here!”

30. “Would it be insulting if I dressed up as a vampire for Halloween or nah?”

31. “I love you so much”

32. “Is anybody else turned on or is it just me?”

33. “I’m not jealous!”

34. “I trust you”

35. “What happened to you?”

36. “You’re my other half, my soulmate”

37. “Stop lying to me”

38. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself”

39. “Tell me I’m wrong”

40. “I am madly in love with you and that terrifies me!”

41. “He can’t hurt you anymore”

42. “Cry me a river and drown in it”

43. “Stay with me? Please”

44. “Bite me”

45. “I need you”

46. “You deserve better than this”

47. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself”

48. “Do you even love me?”

49. “Everybody leaves! Are you going to leave me to?”

50. “I don’t need protection!”

51. “You make me nervous”

52. “I’m a selfish bitch. It��s who I am”

53. “It three in the morning”

54. “Want to build a blanket fort?”

55. “I’m pregnant”

56. “Marry me?”

57. “Your family. We fight but at the end of the day, we love each other”

58. “I am so stressed”

59. “I can’t breathe”

60. “Kill the mother fucker!”

61. “Did you just…stab me?”

62. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this”

63. “You are so adorable”

64. “You don’t want me to answer that”

65. “It’s snowing”

66. “I’ve been watching greys anatomy, I’m practically a doctor.”

67. “Did you just buy a horse?”

68. “Why can I smell blood?”

69. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

70. “I’m getting married…”

71. “Leave me alone”

72. “I missed you”

73. “You’re never facing this alone again”

74. “I’m scared”

75. “I hate myself”

76. “What do you want me to tell you?”

77. “Buy me chocolate”

78.” Tell me to leave and I’ll go”

79. “Can you ever forgive me for this?”

80. “I thought you were dead”

81. “I am on my period”

82. “Is it bad that I find you hot when your mad?”

83. “Fuck me”

84. “We need to talk”

85. “Well it could be worse”

86. “Are you mentally deficient?”

87. “You are not my father!”

88. “This was all a game to you”

89. “If you die, I’ll kill you”

90. “Promise me that you will return”

91. “Nobody wants me”

92. “I’m not her”

93. “I don’t care about our age difference. I am happy with you”

94. “Your mine”

95. “We can’t do this”

96. “Come home”

97. “I’m broken”

98. “Did you mean what you said?”

99. “I can’t keep doing this”

100. “Turn it off”

Send in requests. You can send in more than one promt.

-Alex

#promt #prompt list #tvd #to #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #damon salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore x reader

[stanbillyhargrove]

Demons - The Rewrite

Chapter 24: Beauty In Death

TW: SUICIDE

Billy’s POV

Cat woke up sick the next morning. Her body just couldn't handle being out in the cold for as long as she had been. Steve, Max and I spent our time nursing her back to health. Bringing her tea and medicine. Tried to get her to eat some soup but everytime she did, she'd end up in the bathroom puking.

She got a fever on the third day. Woke up soaked in sweat and shivering. I skipped school for the morning to stay with her while she drifted in and out of sleep. Switched with Steve at lunch so we didn't fall too far behind on our classes.

We had to call Julie that night. Steve was helping Cat stand up and she had passed out. Just crumpled like a rag doll. Luckily, Steve caught her before she hit the floor or the table.

Julie brought some antibiotics home on her break and thanked us for taking care of Cat before leaving again.

She lasted a few more weeks with Steve and I trying our hardest to never leave her alone. She tried as best as she could to put on a happy front and pretend everything was okay. Max hung around her a lot, keeping that little spark of hope alive. We tried splitting up the nights with her so only one of us would be with Cat every night in hope that the other would be able to relax but both Steve and I had been restless on nights we were alone so we both ended up spending every night at Cat’s. The three of us would pass out sprawled against one another on the couch or Steve would take the couch while Cat and I slept in her room. There were a few times where Steve would drift off behind Cat, holding her so gently, and I would have to leave. I’d go outside to smoke and push down the spark of jealousy in my chest that set me on edge.

But I found myself thinking of Steve almost like a brother and I knew he loved Cat too. And I had to let them have that, let her have all the good in her life that she could.

We drove her to and from school and spent every possible second with her. But it had been exhausting, draining and we were starting to feel run down. Steve had been having a hard time staying awake during class, during basketball practice he had no energy and had been benched the past few days. I knew I was hitting that point of exhaustion too, my brain felt foggy and I was having a hard time focusing on anything.

And now there was a big game this week against a rival team. Coach had pulled Steve and I aside. Told us to get our shit together for the game or don't bother coming back to the team. Told us not to embarrass him.

Then the day of the game came and we were ready. We'd spent the last few nights trying to get as much sleep as we could. Cat seemed to be doing a little better so it made it easier to sleep.

"You're coming to the game, right?" Steve asked Cat.

We were in the parking lot after school. The game didn't start for a couple hours.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," she smiled, "I just need to get this assignment done. Mom will drive me back later."

Steve pulled her in for a hug, "see you later."

Cat gave Steve a quick smile, “love you, Stevie,” and squeezed his shoulder before getting in the front seat of the Camaro.

I pulled up to her house and noticed the driveway was empty except for Cat's broken down car, “your mom isn't home. Should I stay?"

Cat smiled, squeezed my hand lightly, “she'll be here soon, go get ready for your game," she leaned over to press her lips against mine, "love you, B."

I got home and scarfed down a sandwich that Susan made me before getting ready for the game. I was almost ready when Max appeared in my door.

"Is Cat coming to watch the game too?"

"Yeah, her mom's bringing her. You gunna save her a seat?"

She nodded, "I gotta tell her we finally beat the high score on that game at the arcade."

"Wow, good job, Max. She'll be proud," I said, grabbing my bag from the floor, "you ready?"

Jump.

Score.

The whistle blew.

Half time.

Our team crowded together to cheer for our last second point. Hands clapped my back. People in the stands cheered.

But when Steve and I looked out to the stands, we didn't see her.

I caught Max's eye and mouthed, "Cat?"

She shrugged and shook her head and disappointment settled heavy in my gut.

Steve and I were pulled into the locker room with the rest of the team.

He leaned in to whisper, "where is she?"

I shrugged, "don't know," I whispered back as our coach came in.

My mind was racing while our coach spoke. Is she okay? Is her mom with her? Why isn't she here? She was supposed to be here.

The rest of the game went by in a blur. The final whistle blew and we were swept up in the cheering of our celebrating team.

"We should check on her," Steve said quietly when our team started to disperse into the locker room.

"She did say her mom would be home tonight, maybe they're spending time together."

Steve didn't look convinced.

"I'll drop Max off, you pick up something to eat and we'll meet there. She's okay."

She has to be.

When I pulled up to the house, Steve had just pulled up and was getting out of his car.

Julie's car still wasn't there.

We hurried up to the door and let ourselves in.

"Cat?" I called.

We waited a second, slipping off our shoes. Steve walked in and set a box of pizza down on the kitchen counter.

"Cat?" He yelled, worry growing.

There was a note taped to the fridge, "Be back in a couple weeks. Be good, mom."

It dawned on me, "she wasn't coming home today.."

Steve took off running, grabbing Cat's bedroom doorframe to stop himself before ducking in.

"Cat?"

My heart was threatening to pound out of my chest.

“Cat?” I called, my voice ringing through the house, "Hello?"

Steve was panicking, shaking like a fucking leaf and cursing under his breath. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and pushed forward to the bathroom. Wrapped my fingers around the doorknob and twisted.

Click.

Locked.

Steve came forward to knock on the door, "Cat?

Silence.

I rattled the handle, "Cat? Can you answer me?"

We waited a second, holding our breath.

Nothing.

Steve stepped back a bit, shaking his head.

His voice hitched, "Cat, please?"

I pounced my fist against the door, "Cat, open the door!"

"Cat!" Steve yelled, losing his composure as he slammed his hand against the wood.

I pounded on the door harder, rattled the door know again, "Cat! Come on!"

Steve slammed his shoulder against the door and choked on tears.

"Back up," I said as I stepped away from the door.

I threw myself into the door as hard as I could. Wood cracked loudly under my shoulder, but not enough.

Steve had his hands in his hair, fingers clenched tight in his locks. His whole body tense.

I ran across the hall and threw my weight into the door again.

Wood splintered and gave way. The door flung open, swinging into the wall behind it.

I felt my knees give out when I saw what waited inside.

Cause while Steve had dealt with this before, had lived through this before, I wasn’t prepared for this.

Suddenly I was thrown into a memory of the first time Neil gave me a bloody nose when I was young and I couldn’t stop staring at the blood running down my face.

While I sunk to the ground, Steve leaped over me, a string of curses spilling from his lips.

“Fuck, fucking call someone! Jesus,” Steve ordered, hands shaking as he whipped around to grab towels.

I didn’t hear him, couldn’t hear him past the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears. I felt like my lungs had filled with cement and I couldn’t gulp in enough air to fill them anymore.

Steve looked at me and scrambled over to grab at my arms, “jesus, Hargrove. Fucking, get over here,” he pulled me across the floor and wrapped my hands around Cat’s arms, “squeeze tight."

His hands left bloody prints up my arms. Her blood.

“But…you..last time..she's okay, right?"

“This is worse, we need help," he squeezed my hands around her arms, "tight. Don’t let go.”

My jaw worked with words that wouldn’t find their way past my tongue as Steve released me to run out of the room.

Worse? I couldn’t imagine how there could be a better or worse to this.

“Hello? I need an ambulance,” Steve’s watery voice echoed through the house, “my friend, she slit her wrists…”

I stopped listening, my only focus the metallic tang that hung thick in the air, coating the inside of my nose until I felt nauseous.

“Cat?” I croaked, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Baby. Please, please come back, just look at me, okay? Please? Just open your eyes, Baby,” I begged, trying to keep an iron grip on her arms but wanting so desperately to shake her until she woke up.

Steve came hurrying back into the bathroom, a red mark smeared across his cheek where he’d wiped at his face, “they’ll be here soon.”

He crowded beside me and grabbed at Cat’s face, leaving a matching smear, “hey, come on. Wake up, we’re here. We got you, okay? You gotta stay with us.”

She didn’t move when Steve shook her, and she was so pale. It crossed my mind that maybe we were too late.

My eyes burned as tears spilled down my cheeks, my arms shook and my knuckles were turning stark white against the red towels.

“Steve,” I choked, “I.. I don’t, what…why..?”

Steve chewed his lip, worried at it so much I thought he’d break skin, “fuck. I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. We just gotta try to keep her from bleeding out until the ambulance gets here,” he tried to shake her again and got no response, “mother fucker! Come on, asshole! Open your fucking eyes!”

My jaw ticked as anger spiked in my chest, “don’t swear at her!"

Steve whipped his head around to glare at me through dewy eyes, “really? You think me swearing is going to make this any worse?”

“I don’t know, Steve! Is it going to make it any fucking better?” I spat.

Steve opened his mouth to start yelling at me when he heard sirens coming closer and instead stood up with a huff, “stay here.”

“The fuck else do you think I’m gunna go?” I growled under my breath as he left.

“Please,” I pleaded, barely keeping myself from sobbing, “please, Cat. You can’t..you can’t fucking leave me like this. You just need to hold on, okay? Just stay with me, please. It'll be okay, everything will be okay. Just hold on."

I didn’t have to wait long before Steve hurried back with a couple paramedics holding a stretcher. They crowded into the bathroom, one man gently moving me out of the way to grab at Cat, fingers moving everywhere to test for a pulse and lift her eyelids.

Steve and I could only hear snippets of what they were saying to each other.

“Unconscious…non responsive….we’re gonna need an IV…I’ve got a heartbeat, barely."

They moved to lift her onto the stretcher and hurried back out to the ambulance with Steve and I following behind.

"Is she okay?" I asked, following behind.

They didn't answer, just hurried to load her into the ambulance. One of the men climbed into the back with her and went to close the door but was stopped by me grabbing the door.

"Sir, I need you to let go."

"I'm coming," I said, trying to climb into the ambulance.

He held up a hand, stopping me, “I’m sorry, immediate family only in the ambulance. You guys will have to follow us, call her parents.”

I looked at the man’s stupid freckled face, his stupid kind eyes and had to stop myself from tackling the man to the ground.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you see parents? We’re all she has! We have to go with her! I need to know she’s okay!” I shouted.

“Sir! You need to calm down,” the man replied sternly, “can’t let you in. Rules."

Steve grabbed my bicep and pulled gently, “Billy, let them go. They need to go,” he urged.

I tensed, my face going stony and backed away from the ambulance doors as Steve pulled at me with a shaking hand.

Steve was shaking violently as the ambulance drove away, sirens blaring. He never let go of my arm, he held tight like he thought I might bolt or he might collapse if he were to let go.

When the ambulance was out of sight, I turned and pulled my keys out of my pocket, “let’s go.”

Steve shook his head, “no, I need to, we gotta..we can’t leave that mess.”

I glared at him, I didn’t want to have to face that again, but followed Steve inside anyway. I followed Steve back to the bathroom where he dutifully handed me a couple towels and started filling the tub with hot water. We started wiping up the blood silently, neither of us ready to break the silence as we turned the bath water red from rinsing out the towels. It was eery, seeing the outline of where Cat had been slumped on the floor, clean and empty against the pool of dark red. I stuck my hand in the middle of the clean spot and felt my chin begin to waver. It was too much, seeing the blood pooled on the floor and sprayed up onto the cabinet, the smeared hand print on the edge of the tub next to shining metal.

“Steve,” I choked out.

He looked up at me with big, glassy eyes, there was a steady stream running down his cheeks that he hadn’t bothered to wipe away. With a huff I threw down the towel I had been cleaning with and stalked out of the house into the front yard. I fumbled to pull a cigarette out of my jacket and light it, my hands shaking and leaving red prints everywhere. Steve didn’t follow me, I was by myself with the weight of the world on my chest.

What am I gunna do if she…?

If she’s gone…forever?

I smoked through my last three cigarettes quickly, relishing in the acrid burn of my lungs until I went to grab another and found my pack empty. I screamed out a curse and threw the empty carton across the lawn and collapsed to the ground, holding my head in my hands and sobbing violently.

I should’ve fucking been here, she shouldn’t have been alone.

I knew, deep down, that she wasn't getting better. I had just been stupid enough to hope. To hope that she'd turn a corner, that her mom would be here to make sure she was okay.

But she wasn’t here, nobody was. And Cat was alone.

And that's my fault.

I sat there, wallowing in my anger and despair until my chest stopped heaving and my breath started to come normally again.

Briefly, I wondered if she left a note, something explaining why I wasn’t enough. Why we weren't enough to keep her alive.

I set my jaw, wiped at my cheeks and slowly got back to my feet to go back inside. I could hear Steve’s heart wrenching sobs as soon as I walked inside and followed them to find him curled up on the floor in Cat’s room, his head buried in his bloody knees. I gently knelt down next to him, twisting my fingers together in my lap.

“Don’t got any cigarettes to offer you,” I muttered, my voice scratchy and rough.

Steve sniffed and took a shuddering breath, “she didn’t call or anything...I tried s-so fucking hard.”

“I know,” I placed a hand on his back gently, “I know you did. We did all we could, Steve.”

“We should go..” he whispered.

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed, standing back up and extending a hand to him.

He puffed out another long breath before taking my hand to pull himself off the floor. Before I could think, Steve had collapsed into my shoulder, his arms gripping at my back in a crushing embrace as he choked out another sob.

“I should have been here, we shouldn’t have left her alone. This is my fucking fault,” he cried.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders firmly and grit my teeth before trying to talk past the knot in my throat, “Steve. Come on, it’s not your fault.”

@charmed-asylum​

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfiction

[redheid]

S supposed to be the most dismal fucking place you can imagine spending the holidays: cooped up in a dingey little flat wi a band of fellow smackheads who had all, completely unplanned but completely expectedly, upped and left their own different little homes aftir conveniently wanting tae go oan a Christmas eve walk tae breathe in the crisp air in an act of good health at the same time, not tae come back till the middle of the night tae whoever they’d lied to in the first place tae get oot. Tryna pass off whitever smack induced quiver they’ve taken thit’s letting them knock everything down in their war path in a nefarious attempt to act as the notorious bearded fucker thit should be climbing in through the chimney later thit night. (God forbid the ones thit go home tae a place wi kids in the house actually staying up tae try n catch a glimpse of the guy in red only tae find their brother or uncle or cousin tae be sneaking in through the backdoor in a total fuckin daze n no even noticing them and their bright peeking kiddy eyes peering oot through their bedroom doors before the fail to be santa collapses as close tae the door as they can, once they’ve made sure they’ve absolutely made it through the threshold of the house.)

The dismal place they’ve come from is dreamy tae me, probably tae the smackheads alike. The aftermath is the grim boxing day of the visit.

Swanney’s place’s got smoke stains seeped so far intae the walls you can hardly tell the colour they were painted in the first place. The respect tae the physicalities of the place went swiftly down from there, once people realised a kick in the wall by an angry punter or whoever had come storming the place was either never noticed or never bothered tae get fixed, totally left fir the dust tae gather; the place became an incoherent art installation fast.

For instance, right now ah lay sprawled oot against a wall, right in the corner, the crevice of the flat where the spiders typically gather and ah squash when ah sit oan them, where if you look up tae the other wall holding you up, just tae the side, and if you squint hard enough, you can just aboot make oot a tree oan it formed from some cunt’s handprints. If you squint harder, muck a few artificial additives intae yir system thit lets you see the wonder in the simplest things, like in a grotty little flat thit stinks of piss and farts and burning, you can pretend the weary stains oan the painted greenery are colourful little specks purposely put there as decoration. They nearly look like ornaments and you can nearly act like Swanney’s taken note of a calendar or the weather outside and dressed the place up for the festivities.

Obviously some artsy fucker came in one time thinking high enough oaf themsels tae start the handy masterpiece but no enough to finish it, it was no work of our Mother Superior, but it’s a tantalising thought tae imagine him wi a bowl of paint and a green hand. The furthest his goodwill extends for the holiday season is not booting you oot immediately once you’ve got your stuff (dependent on how many freaks and geeks had made their way to his place to score likes), not until he runs ootay walls fir the lot tae fall down on does he point tae the door and tell us tae get tae fuck.

Ah was one of the first few tae arrive, see, and ah had the cognisant joy of watching the rest trickle intae the place through a very slow set of blinking eyelids while I masel was in and oot oaf a daze. Ah was well fuckin intae ma experience n well oan ma way down when ah saw Swanney pointing at the door and talking aboot wanting the place clear.

— Ah’m no having any sleepers, Swanney sais. The only reason ah hear thit one, come to consciousness enough tae even register it as a sound directed anywhere in the vicinity oaf me, was through Sick Boy’s stinging voice next tae us near enough fucking pleading tae the fucker.

— Where’s the spirit, Swanney?

— Santy can come kicking down the chimney if he likes, Simon, but he’s no invited either,

Unfortunately, ah’m in no state tae argue, though ah had planned accordingly: tae be a sleeper during the day. Naw a dozer, actually. There was no sleeping, but the dozing state was paramount tae ma festive experience. Ma Rudolph riding time in the sky.

Ah was there at the perfect time tae ride is oot and still have a happy aftermath tae deal wi when ah was tae head back home under suspicion not at all tae be compared tae the likes of those stumbling in ruining the night when they pulled the Christmas tree and bunting, should the household be so inclined tae put it up, down wi them when they came back home and made their bed on the floor. Under no fucking circumstances would Mark Renton be found drooling intae the carpet oan Christmas morning.

Ah stand up without fuss. Simon is still rattling tae the side of me and ah nearly crumble intae the wall which is not at all of my own accord (it is in my best interest tae stay as firmly upright as ah can). Ah nod a see ya tae Swanney n mibbe mumble a happy holidays.

…

– Disnae seem fair is awl ah’m saying, Rents.

Ah nod a simple nod ah’m not at all mentally tied intae.

– Not thit ah care anyways, the cunt.

Ah nod again.

– Ah’ve got a lovely supper awaiting me.

Another fucking nod.

– Baccalà.

Again, ah nod nod nod.

– Cod. A lovely, salted cod. Not thit you’d know anything about thit wi your plea for animal rights.

– Ah’m vegetarian, Si.

– Vege-fucking-whitever, it’s no good fir yir health. Examplo numero uno, he points a cuntish finger tae hissel. Ah don’t know how he has the energy. The strained finger runs from his face and over tae me. – And you.

– Ah just dinnae like the taste.

– S no very à la Christmas is awl ah’m saying. It’s the time tae feast, abbondanza, Rents. Whit, you forcing your poor madre tae cook you thit tofu shite?

Ah don’t know how he has the appetite. Physically for the feast he’s claiming or mentally for the bothering he’s doing tae me. Ah shudder. It’s fucking freezing.

– Ah just eat around the turkey. Potatoes and carrots.

He tsks all better than. – Potatoes and carrots, fucking waste.

He continues but ah keep my arms tucked nicely around ma shaking body as we get tae the bottom of the road and ease the sound of his voice ootay ma heid.

Ah look over ma shoulder and catch a few more people heading outay Swanney’s, ah bet they’re no looking tae dae half as much talking as my solid companion, but I also suspect they’re not exactly people ah’m looking for company from, thit even if they did want tae talk as much as Sick Boy they winnae have half as much tae say. Who the fuck does?

Ah watch as the cold hits them and their arms shoot up too to cocoon themselves in a solitary embrace. Fair few have jackets oan them, thick enough ones are few and far between. Ah have oan ma bomber jacket, far too short and far too fucking thin tae do any good but make it look like ah’ve been existing from my hand-me-downs aged ten. Not so much fabric thit it would make a difference if I had ten of them oan.

The buzzing breaking through the cold turns intae a sharp prod in my arm. Ah look away from Swanney’s wi a scowl back at Si, the proprietor of said prod. – Whit? ah snap belligerently.

– Knew you were no fucking listening, fucking waster.

– Fucking cunt, ah mutter.

It disnae persuade him tae stop, disnae deter the fucker at awl. Ah let him go oan and oan till we make it tae our ain separate crossroads and head our ain separate ways. Wave a merry Christmas and he says something about the meat feast thit is Christmas day, whit his sister’s are cooking, and ah listen politely fir the fact ah cannae be bothered tae tell him how much ah could no care less until he finished up and ah stumble back to Fort Renton.

…

Aftir we got the flat off the housing department oan behalf of our Wee Davie’s various fucking various illnesses, the weeks approaching the end of December were awl aboot making solid attempts tae make it look homely, tae really work wi the tree we’ve had since Billy was born n give Cathy Renton something to focus oan other than when we were getting Davie home and if his bed was ready fir him and who was going to spoon feed him whitever they were planning tae. It was aboot showing how much the place was cared for as if people were watching (which, actually, ah suppose a good few were – the Curran’s a few doors down were hawkeyed and insisting we only kept Wee Davie in our care, living wi us like, until we got the new place tae live free of charge and shipped him oot the second we got the keys as if we’d pawn him off like thit).

This is the first Christmas there’s no really any of thit, even if ah see Mr Curran’s radge fucking face peeping ootay his blinds at us.

The measly tree dinnae go up until the 21st despite attempts from ma faither tae encourage Ma intae it n even when it did go up, she dinnae even really care thit the tinsel was looking the scraggiest it ever had. No thought tae go and get replacements.

Ma faither took the ‘good’ side of the tree n put it facing the front windae, as if people like the Curran’s were actually coming up tae ours and press their faces up on the glass tae see how we were treating the place aftir Davie’s death. Whether we were packing up tae give it up fir someone else who needs it.

Well fuck thit. Finders keepers losers fucking weepers. Ma faither’s intense need tae show the outside world our supposed love and respect fir the holidays, however, left the sight for sore eyes side of the tree fir us tae look at in the living room. He’s been squinting past the plasticy brambles and the shedding metallic tinsel thit’s covering the floor so he can watch the telly in peace fir the past two days and pretending it disnae bother him thit he has tae do it.

The good old Cathy Renton has been sitting desolate as can be oan the settee oan the other side of the room, pretending tae watch the telly and not at awl pretending tae care aboot the tree and lack of quality decor.

S fucking depressing if you ask me. Ah immediately miss Swanney’s when ah step through the door.

– Where’ve you been? Fucking Billy, doss cunt, waiting fir me tae get back. He looks like he’s been sitting in thit chair at the dining table since the moment ah left waiting for a festive confrontation.

– Last minute shopping wus it, son? Ma mother sais from the settee. Ah didn’t see her when ah came in but now thit a look at her ah see the blinking colourful lights off the tree bouncing off her wrinkled face.

Ah weakly present a facsimile of a laugh n a smile. – Something like it, yeah.

– Where’s yir shoppin then? Billy snidely remarks. This gets ma mother’s attention and ah see her brows take tae work and fold inwards at the hapless confusion.

Ah dinnae have the brain power fir this.

– Leave it, ma faither sais contritely from his chair and squints further past the tree. He also looks like he’s been firmly planted there since ah left however many hours ago ah did, glued tae the telly like he has been fir days, avoiding the sincere lack of coughing and the sound of ma mother slapping wee Davie’s back in the next room this year. Doof doof doof doof nae more.

It’s Billy’s bedroom now. The worst noise we’ll get from thit room has already been heard when Sharon, his new burd, comes over.

Fuck if ah’d ever bring a burd round tae muh ma’s house. I eye the fucker, repulsive.

– What? he says, as if he’d been up in ma brain wi ma thinking, as if he had free scope over thit domain. Ah sneer back but pretend it’s a smile because ah know ma’s still watching us outay the corner of her eye. She’s especially sentimental this year. Her two boys, her two wee yins. We’ve been partly trying tae get oan fir the sake of her this year. Course the picky fucker waits till crimbo eve till his resentment towards me rears its ugly head aftir awl the arguments we’ve ignored wi our ma in the room the past few weeks. It’s been bubbling up inside of him just like it has me and ah know he’s looking for the free second tae set up his sniper oan ma forehead.

– Boys, ma faither speaks. Ah look ovir and see he dinnae even do us the grace of looking from the tv. Ah look back at Billy who’s rolling his eyes at us, ah ball up a fist and pretend it’s just me tightening ma grip oan the shopping back ah did no at awl come back wi.

– 10am, ma da sais, – sharp. Mass, back here, dinner oan n eaten then sat back down here round the tv for 3pm.

– Aye, Billy says. The fucking suck up. Wouldnae miss the queen’s talk and a seat right next tae ma faither nodding the fuck along taw whitever the old trout has tae say fir the world. Highlight of their fucking year those ten minutes of insincere spiel wi cases and cases of gold surrounding her are. – Cannae wait.

– Aye, ah say, – riveting stuff. Ah’m always hold ma breath when she pauses fir too long case she keels ovir once n for awl. Christmas day, like, drama of it.

– S pre-recorded, ye dippit. Billy scowls at me. Ah cheer masel on in ma heid. Point Mark Renton.

– Ah know, but…

– Why yis sayin it then?

Ah scowl back. Never fucking mind.

– Please, Ma sais. She’s settled intae the flow of keeping her eyes directly on the glowing screen. Ah cannae quite bring myself tae lean intae thit, Christmas eve wi the family or no.

Ah nod an awright. Billy gets his eyes off me but not at awl before giving me the condescending nod of the century. Ah smile back thit same sneering smile from before and say – Ah’ll be going tae ma room then.

Billy tsks before anyone else gets a word in, ah glower at the side of his head but realise both of the parental figures have decided tae take the goodbye in visually and are looking right at me.

– Bed so soon? ma Da sais. – You’ve just got back.

– Excited for santy, Ma says in faux delight. There’s a dead enjoyment tae her voice thit’s got me thinking she’s been stuck on the lack of a doof doof doof doof in the next room too. Ah go along wi it fir the sake of fragility of any sense of okayness in this household.

– Aye, wanna be up early. Try and catch the man in red in the act.

This seems to appease them, Ma and Da at least. She gives a half-hearted smile and ma faither gives no outward reaction which seems tae be the best case. Billy the fucking bully looks at me fir another second like he knows where the fuck ah’ve been and ah’m sure enough he does, but he lets it settle too so ah sulk off tae the privacy of a closed door.

The locks are long gone but as long as ah act the way ah’m supposed tae when ah’m oan the other side of it, the shorter the times the door gets busted down by Billy or ma faither or wi a tentative knock from muh Ma.

Ah collapse like a lump oan the bed. Thump fucking thump, ah land. Ah close ma eyes and melt intae the fucker.

It’s no long till ah hear the tv switch off. Not too much longer till ah hear Billy slam his new bedroom door shut. Believe me, ah’m glad tae have a box tae masel now, a singular bedroom, not have to listen to the snoring fucker fart himself awake every other night, but ah despise the speed in which he claimed Davie’s room. The soil was fresh on his grave and the air in the coffin was yet to turn stale before he’d started hanging up his clothes in the wardrobe.

Doof doof doof doof doof. Thit was the sound ah used tae drift off to, Davie’s chest being knocked aboot and cleared so he could make it tae the next day. Ah was always surprised he could take such a beating. He always looked so fragile.

Naw, fuck this. Ah’m sooner gonna hear the footsteps of the immortal creep from the north pole tiptoeing across the roof delivering good and peace tae the Renton’s than the doof doof doof again. Ah shut ma eyes tighter, consider moving fir a few minutes tae organise masel enough tae put oan a record, but ah unfortunately spent all ma energy oan behaving as acceptably as possible when ah had entered the home. The rest of it had been spent making a dig at the queen tae piss off Billy in his suck up time wi our Da, who the fuck’s acting like the queen’s speech is the best part of a Christmas day anyways? Fucking idiot.

Ah ball ma hands up and shove them intae ma sockets till ah see stars. Ah have a headache coming oan. Ah let the balled fists fall down ontae the duvet either side of me (thump thump) and ah squint at the far end of ma room and ma green tinny locker turned closet. Ah reckon if ah asked Billy nice enough and gave him the lock fir it, he’d wait fir me to climb in and lock me in there till the 24th turned to the 25th to the 26th. If he were feeling especially nice he’d let me stay in there till the new year passed and he’d simply slide me the odd plate of dinner tae sustain me; let me wither away, but give just enough tinned whatever tae stay alive till ah had some kind of clarity and stopped hearing the doof doof fucking doof reverberating through my skull thit’s no fucking there.

Dear the red man thit would be climbing through our chimney if we had one, may you bring me somewhere cosier and more isolated fir the holiday season. Mibbe tae an undiscovered island, nothing too fancy: a few rocks, a couple palm trees and a coconut fir me tae drink outay. This year may you give me a bit of peace and fucking quiet. Leave me a note tae say yir coming and ah’ll slip outay ma room and leave the windae open a crack fir you tae sneak in through. Kind regards, Mark Renton.

#tbt #this was fun and it ends abruptly ish but it was still fun so idc:) #its like 3300 ish words ? #good job ive decided to write the next instalment in the trainspotting series ur welcome irvine welsh

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Shigaraki being a dense mother fucker basically

I cant think of a better title lol

Warnings: swearing, lil bita angst, omegaverse

Requests: open

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/join/ghostbub

Sorry for any mistakes I’m doin this on mobile!

You’d accidentally wandered into the bar in one of your drunken hazes, it was only a block away from your apartment, an easy mistake! Toga was the only one there, and while she’d laughed at your slurred speech and wobbly movements, she still offered you a place to stay for the night. You’d woken up with a bad taste in your mouth and messy blonde hair in your face, but the omega scent that surrounded you put you right at ease. After she explained what happened you fell over yourself trying to thank her and apologies for your behaviour, and that was how you came to your quirk. You could duplicate anything, although the lifespan of the copy depended on what it was, and you quickly duplicated all the money in your pockets and gave it to her. After that you just kind of… hung around. It was nice being with another omega, your apartment was so, so empty, and Toga was already what you considered a close friend. Omegas were known to bond in record time. So you stayed.

You’d awoken to the best smell you’d ever come across, figuring Toga was cooking breakfast, she wasn’t in bed, you got out of bed and stretched. You didn’t think as you threw a loose T-shirt over your pyjamas, covering your yawn as you padded down the stairs to find Toga. You’d barely made it to the bottom step before a growl ripped across the room and you froze, eyes taking in the two newcomers. They were both taller than you, one sporting some of the most extensive scarring you’d ever seen, and the other was so beautiful your heart jumped into your throat. It only took you a moment to remember, Toga had mentioned them one night, Dabi and,,, Shigaraki? That was it! His eyes were red, and they bored into your frozen form as you wondered what the fuck was going on. You’d heard of true mates, sure, but they were rare, you’d never be that- oh god the alpha was walking towards you. Without a second thought you bolted back up the stairs, your heart slamming against your chest when another growl echoed behind you, and heavy footsteps soon followed your own panicked ones.

You’d almost made it to Toga’s room before a weight rammed into your back and sent you sprawling, knocking the wind out of you as you could only lay there gasping for air and wondering what was going to happen next.

“Why’d you fucking run, huh?” The weight you now knew was Shigaraki shifted on top of you, and your eyes shot open when you felt him push your hair away and expose the back of your neck. He wasn’t going to…?

“Don’t do anything like that again and we won’t have a problem, mate.” You didn’t know why you were just laying there, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the floor when you felt him kiss over your neck. You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped past your lips when you felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin, and a moment later you were yelping as Shigaraki bit down, hard.

“Just to make sure you know who you belong to.” The alpha was finally coming down from the high he got from the chase, pupils slowly going back to their normal size, not that you could see it from where u were pinned.

“O-Okay.” Was all you managed to squeak out, although it was enough to make your alpha let out a satisfied purr.

It had only been a couple of days since Tomura had claimed you, and insisted you call him Tomura from now on, but he hadn’t scented you once. He’d scent everything else, clothes, blankets, pillows, but when it came to you he’d just… avoid the subject. Now that you thought of it, he’d barely touched you at all since what happened in the hallway, was that why you were so tired? You were probably just being paranoid, it must just be a bug or something, but that didn’t help with the stomach ache you’d developed. Maybe your mate would be in the mood to give you a hug? Or something…? You were already in one of his hoodies that he’d only scented hours ago, but it wasn’t enough, and you should probably tell him if you weren’t feeling well, right?

“Tomura…?” You creaked open the door to his room, not at all surprised to see him playing some game, still, he motioned for you to come in, and you closed the door as quietly as you could behind you. He didn’t look up as you padded over, dropping down next to him and taking some comfort in his scent washing over you. Now what? You didn’t want to bother him.

“I’m kinda busy, do you want me to scent something else for you?” Tomura tensed when you leaned against him, although he didn’t push you away, and his eyes flicked over to your form. Your nerve failed now that you were actually here, he was your alpha, you needed to trust him. Your tummy probably just hurt from something you ate, so you just shook your head and got back on your feet, making up some excuse about needing to use the bathroom. Tomura frowned as he watched you leave, something about your scent was off, like it had spoiled since he’d first smelled it or something, and every instinct he had was telling him to run after you and interrogate you about your health. But he held himself back, he didn’t want to lose control and hurt you, what if he accidentally touched you wrong and you were just… gone? He’d be lying if he said having you so close wasn’t driving him crazy, but he’d already let his instincts overtake him once, he couldn’t risk it again. If something was wrong you’d tell him, for sure. The pit in his stomach wasn’t filled, however, and it continued to bother him while he waited for you to come back.

The bathroom was a lie, you felt sick, sure, but you left the bar, pulling Tomura’s hoodie closer around you as you walked back to your apartment. It was just as cold and empty as you left it, but it had your nest and all the heating pads and tea you’d need to try and help with this bug. You quickly gathered everything you’d need before you retreated to your room, sitting right in the middle of the bed and pulling your blanket up to your chin after you’d put on a show. You felt too sick to nest, just leaning back against the headboard and letting your eyes loll closed.

“Where the fuck is Y/n? They went to the bathroom and never came back.” Tomura ran into the bar, his upset scent making Toga and Dabi pull disgusted faces as they turned to him.

“They had a stomach ache so they went back to their apartment.” Dabi turned back to Kugiouri, but Toga’s eyes pinned the alpha to the spot, and he couldn't stop the uncomfortable growl in his throat.

“You’ve been neglecting them, if they go into an omega depression or anything like that? I’ll watch the life drain out of you when my knife goes into your heart.” The omega turned back to the bar, engaging in a conversation with Dabi like she hadn’t just shattered Tomura’s world. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Dabi piped up, small grin on his face as he spoke.

“If you don’t scent them enough and take proper care of them, I might have to steal them away and show them what a real alpha is like.”

Tomura left too quickly after that to hear him finish, he needed to find his omega. He needed to find you now. Before it was too late.

You didn’t even hear your door open with all the blankets you had piled on top of you. If it wasn’t for your scent Tomura wouldn’t know you were under there. He’d tracked the bitter smell all the way to your bedroom, and he quickly dumped the snacks he’d gotten on the bedside table.

“Y/n, are you there?” He asked as if he didn’t know the answer. His instincts went into high alert when you didn’t answer, panic gripping him as he ripped away the covers to see you curled around a pillow and looking at him with mild confusion.

“Tomura..?What’re you…?” You trailed off, you were too tired to even think of the words to say. “I’m sick, I just wanna sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong? I’m your alpha.” The distress in his voice made your eyes crack open again, and what was with him?

“It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be good as new after I get some rest. I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Just a stomach bug? That’s what you think this is?” How could you be so oblivious to your own health? Tomura was shaking as he climbed into bed next to you, and you froze as you wondered what he was doing. He usually didn’t initiate any kind of contact, something must be wrong? Arms wrapped around you like you were made of glass, you’d never been treated this gently, especially by him? You turned so you were chest to chest, surprised to see how much worry was swirling in your alphas eyes.

“I should have noticed something was off.” Tomura couldn’t help but growl, oh too aware of how close you were and how only four of his fingers were touching you. Here goes nothing, hopefully you wouldn’t hit him or anything, your alpha leant down, nosing over your scent gland before he gently rubbed his cheek against it. The relief that washed over you almost had you keening, the pain in your stomach and heaviness that had taken over your body slowly fading away as your alpha scented you. Happy chirps left you and you happily bared your neck for better access, your eyes closing as you snuggled closer to your mate, happier than you’d ever been.

#bnha x reader #yandere x reader #bnha omegaverse #shigaraki x reader #yandere tomura x reader #tomura x reader #alpha tomura #omega reader #bnha #yandere bnha #x reader

[1962dude420-blog]

Today we remember the passing of Johnny Thunders who Died: April 23, 1991 at the Inn on St Peter in New Orleans, Louisiana.

John Anthony Genzale (July 15, 1952 – April 23, 1991), known professionally as Johnny Thunders, was an American guitarist, singer and songwriter. He came to prominence in the early 1970s as a member of the New York Dolls. He later played with the Heartbreakers and as a solo artist.

Thunders was born John Anthony Genzale in Queens, New York, the second child to Josephine Genzale (née Nicoletti, 1923–1999), who was of Italian descent, and Emil Genzale (1923–1982), who was of Italian, Russian-Jewish, and German-Jewish ancestry. He had an older sister, Mariann (1946–2009). He first lived in East Elmhurst and then Jackson Heights.

His first musical performance was in the winter of 1967 with The Reign. Shortly thereafter, he played with Johnny and the Jaywalkers, under the name Johnny Volume, at Quintano's School for Young Professionals, around the corner from Carnegie Hall, on 56th Street near 7th Avenue.

In 1968, he began going to the Fillmore East and Bethesda Fountain in Central Park on weekends. His older sister, Mariann, started styling his hair like Keith Richards. In late 1969, he got a job as a sales clerk at D'Naz leather shop, on Bleecker Street in the West Village, and started trying to put a band together. He and his girlfriend, Janis Cafasso, went to see The Rolling Stones at Madison Square Garden in November 1969, and they appear in the Maysles' film, Gimme Shelter.

Dolls bass guitarist Arthur "Killer" Kane later wrote about Thunders' guitar sound, as he described arriving outside the rehearsal studio where they were meeting to jam together for the first time: "I heard someone playing a guitar riff that I myself didn't know how to play. It was raunchy, nasty, rough, raw, and untamed. I thought it was truly inspired...", adding "His sound was rich and fat and beautiful, like a voice."

The New York Dolls were signed to Mercury Records, with the help of A & R man Paul Nelson. Thunders recorded two albums with the band, New York Dolls and Too Much Too Soon. They were managed by Marty Thau, and booked by Leber & Krebs. Subsequently, they worked with Malcolm McLaren for several months, later becoming a prototype for the Sex Pistols.

In 1975 Thunders and Nolan left the band, Thunders later blaming McLaren for the band's demise. Johansen and Sylvain continued playing, along with Peter Jordon, Tony Machine (an ex-assistant agent at Leber & Krebs) and Chris Robison, as the New York Dolls until late 1978.

Thunders formed The Heartbreakers with former New York Dolls drummer Jerry Nolan and former Television bassist Richard Hell. Walter Lure, former guitarist for the New York City punk band The Demons joined them soon after. After conflict arose between Thunders and Hell, Hell left to form Richard Hell and the Voidoids and was replaced by Billy Rath. With Thunders leading the band, the Heartbreakers toured America before going to Britain to join the Sex Pistols, The Clash and The Damned on the 'Anarchy Tour'. The group stayed in the UK throughout 1977, where their popularity was significantly greater than in the U.S., particularly among punk bands. While in Britain they were signed to Track Records and released their only official studio album, L.A.M.F., an abbreviation for "Like A Mother Fucker". L.A.M.F. was received positively by critics and fans alike, but was criticised for its poor production. Displeased with the production, the band members were soon competing with one other, mixing and remixing the record, culminating in drummer Jerry Nolan quitting in November 1977. Shortly thereafter, the Heartbreakers officially disbanded.

Thunders stayed in London and recorded the first of a number of solo albums, beginning with So Alone in 1978. The notoriously drug-fuelled recording sessions featured a core band of Thunders, bassist Phil Lynott, drummer Paul Cook and guitarist Steve Jones, with guest appearances from Chrissie Hynde, Steve Marriott, Walter Lure, Billy Rath and Peter Perrett. The CD version of the album contains four bonus tracks, including the single "Dead or Alive" and a cover of the early Marc Bolan song "The Wizard". Soon afterwards, Thunders moved back to the US, joining former Heartbreakers Walter Lure, Billy Rath and sometimes Jerry Nolan for gigs at Max's Kansas City. Around this time Thunders played a small number of gigs at London's Speakeasy with a line up including Cook and Jones, Henri Paul on bass and Judy Nylon and Patti Palladin (Snatch) as back up vocalists.

In late 1979, Thunders moved to Detroit with his wife Julie and began performing in a band called Gang War. Other members included John Morgan, Ron Cooke, Philippe Marcade and former MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer. They recorded several demos and performed live several times before disbanding. Zodiac Records released an EP of their demos in 1987. In 1990 they also released an album titled Gang War, which was credited to Thunders and Kramer.

During the early 1980s, Thunders re-formed The Heartbreakers for various tours; the group recorded their final album, Live at the Lyceum, in 1984. The concert was also filmed and released as a video and later a DVD titled Dead Or Alive.

In the 1980s, Thunders lived in Paris and Stockholm with his wife and daughter. In 1985 he released Que Sera Sera, a collection of new songs with his then band The Black Cats, and "Crawfish", a duet with former Snatch vocalist Patti Palladin. Three years later he again teamed up with Palladin to release Copy Cats, a covers album. The album, produced by Palladin, featured a wide assortment of musicians to recreate the 1950s and 1960s sound of the originals, including Alex Balanescu on violin, Bob Andrews on piano, The Only Ones John Perry and others on guitar, and a horn section.

From August 1988 until his death in April 1991, Thunders performed in The Oddballs, with Jamie Heath (saxophone), Alison Gordy (vocals), Chris Musto (drums), Stevie Klasson (guitar) and Jill Wisoff (bass). From April–May 1990, Johnny performed an acoustic tour of the UK and Ireland joining up occasionally with John, Sam & Peter of The Golden Horde, whom he had met and played with previously in 1984 at the TV Club, and were concurrently on tour (of the UK & Ireland) at that time also, for full-band electric performances and TV appearances. On May 8, 1990, recording sessions in London for a joint EP-single cover version with The Golden Horde of "Sugar, Sugar" by The Archies, and original material, had to be cancelled when Johnny experienced "health problems" following his performances in Wakefield, UK while on tour.

His final recording was a version of "Born To Lose", with German punk rock band Die Toten Hosen, recorded 36 hours before his death in New Orleans.

Rumors surround Thunders' death at the St. Peter House in New Orleans, Louisiana on April 23, 1991. Thunders apparently died of drug-related causes, but it has been speculated that it was the result of foul play. According to his biography Lobotomy: Surviving The Ramones, Dee Dee Ramone took a call in New York City the next day from Stevie Klasson, Johnny's rhythm guitar player. Ramone said, "They told me that Johnny had gotten mixed up with some bastards... who ripped him off for his methadone supply. They had given him LSD and then murdered him. He had gotten a pretty large supply of methadone in England, so he could travel and stay away from those creeps – the drug dealers, Thunders imitators, and losers like that."

An article in the Orlando Sentinel states that he died of an overdose of cocaine and methadone, according to the coroner's office in New Orleans. Chief investigator John Gagliano said "tests completed last week found substantial amounts of both drugs."

While other sources state: An autopsy was conducted by the New Orleans coroner, but served only to compound the mysteries. According to Thunders' biographer Nina Antonia as posted on the Jungle Records web site, the level of drugs found in his system was not fatal. According to the book Rock Bottom: Dark Moments in Music Babylon by Pamela Des Barres, who interviewed Thunders' sister, Mariann Bracken, the autopsy confirmed evidence of advanced leukemia, which would explain the decline in Thunders' appearance in the final year of his life. This also sheds light on the interview in Lech Kowalski's documentary Born To Lose: The Last Rock and Roll Movie, where Thunders' brother-in-law says, "Only Johnny knew how sick he really was."

In a 1994 Melody Maker interview, Thunders' manager Mick Webster described the family's efforts to get New Orleans police to investigate the matter further: "We keep asking the New Orleans police to re-investigate, but they haven't been particularly friendly. They seemed to think that this was just another junkie who had wandered into town and died. They simply weren't interested."

Thunders was survived by his wife Julie Jourden and four children: sons John, Vito, and Dino, and daughter Jamie Genzale by Susanne Blomqvist.

#april 23 #1991 #johnny thunders #new york dolls #heartbreakers #r.i.p.

[astertataricvs]

Akaza x Reader || Nostalgia

"Hey, miss, want to come with us?"

"P-Please let m-me go."

Akaza was peacefully walking through the alleyway of the Kabukicho district until he heard voices coming ahead of him. As he ambles towards the unknown voices, he saw two men cornering a girl who was coughing constantly.

"Huh? But it's a shame if you won't go with us. It will be fun, I assure you," he whispered in your ear maniacally while your eyes shut closed.

You don't like being cornered on the wall especially by some random guys who are desperate to keep their hands under the women's skirts. Although you wanted to punch their faces and pummel them into the ground but in your state ー you cannot.

Since you were born, you have a very vulnerable body and you're easy to get sick. Although you're really a sarcastic woman who likes to burn them with your words, you can't do it since you don't want them to pick on you any further due to you having a frail body. Now, these bastards were trying to get in your pants, well it's your fault in the first place for walking around during the evening, specifically that you live within the area of Kabukicho. What do you expect of the district who has lots of repugnant men lurking around until the sun rises?

Ahh, you really could be an idiot sometimes.

"P-Please, I n-need to go."

'You disgusting fuckers! Let go of me or I'll smash your butts on the ground and kick your balls so you won't ever impregnate anyone! These motherfuckers!' If only you can say it out loud, why do you have to be born with such a weak body? Although you don't want this and didn't wish for it, it still fated to you ever since you were inside your mother's womb.

Speaking of mothers, you grew up being an orphan and was adopted by an old woman who's living all by herself. She doesn't have any relatives to count on due to her one and only daughter died because of her illness. Thus her husband deserted her for some prostitute in the district.

You really pity her for enduring that kind of depressing moments. She had a hard time sustaining those painful circumstances that occurred in her life. That's why she's beyond pleased when she raised you and be her own daughter despite that you're not related by blood. You're really grateful to her for taking you in the garbage when you're still a baby, though you know you're trash yourself.

"Don't be so fussy, miss, we're being good guys here inviting you over to a very fun place," he snorted that makes you scrunch your face in disgust.

Surprisingly, the tall guy grasped your wrist causing you to stumble forward because of his dynamic attempt of dragging you with them. Striving to struggle from his hold was all in vain, your body was too frail to even break free from his clutch. Although you wanted to kick him in the balls, you couldn't since forcing yourself to do things that are beyond of your body's strength can cripple your health. Also, your coughing fits were preventing you to struggle with much of your strength.

Meanwhile, at Akaza, he was annoyed that humans were blocking his way. Should he kill them at once? However, he was disrupted from his adverse thoughts when he saw you coughing strenuously while struggling to break free from the grip of perverted men. Perceiving you from trying to release yourself, a wave of nostalgia lingers through his wellbeing.

A sudden of shockwaves struck his mind and paused for a moment. It feels déjà vu for him but, he has no clue about what it was. Is it his memories when he once was a human? Oh, how he doesn't want to remember it anymore whether it's a pleasant one. He already had a new life so he shouldn't dig any more to his past. He felt his head throb and felt livid at the same time, seeing those men forcing a frail woman to come with them seriously pisses him off. However, he shouldn't concern himself with a human right? He's a demon and he doesn't like humans who are weak, he despises the weak, specifically that you're the perfect illustration of what he resent the most.

On the contrary, his guts told him to save you from those men despite that he really doesn't want to aid you because of pity. He solely doesn't like humans blocking his path and their repulsive action aggravates him. To be precise, he wanted to annihilate and devour them this instant even you, if only you weren't a woman. He has this kind of perception that he dislikes killing or eating any woman he would come across. Even though Douma encourages him to eat women because they have more nutrients inside their body, he still refuses to eat and kill them.

Sighing, he ambles closer to the men and you. "Oi," Akaza meddled and before the men can look at him, the demon already kicked their bodies onto the wall with an unhuman strength causing their spines to crack and make them unconscious.

You, who watched the scene only gawked in astonishment and your jaw fell to the ground. Seeing the crack of the wall just because of a kick really amazes you yet terrified. You swiftly gaze at the man in front of you with wide eyes. As your eyes landed on his figure, you noticed the trail of lines imprinted on his body and he's fair as fuck! He's paler than you! Also what stands the most about him are his pink hair and blue eyes ー wait! You can see his fine abs! What a sight to behold!

"What the hell are you looking at?" His voice snapped you out from your fantasies and quickly looked at him in the eye.

"A-Ah! N-Nothing!" Then afterwards, you cough again.

Oh, how you despise yourself when you're coughing so much that it bothers everyone surrounding you, to their point of view, they don't want to get closer to you considering you might have a contagious illness running in your blood that can ruin their health. It's not your fault for having such a weak body!

"You do realize that you're in the red light district, right? You shouldn't wander around during the night if you don't want anything nasty to happen to you," he deadpanned before turning his heels to leave you behind.

"W-Wait!" You called out which you successfully caught his attention. Akaza peered over his shoulder and raised his eyebrow.

"Thank you," you sincerely said then beamed him a tender smile. Momentarily, you felt light-headed and your breath ragged all of a sudden. Then subsequently, darkness consumes you and didn't know what happened after.

•••

You were awakened by the cold gust of wind gush through your body. Groggily fluttering your eyes open, instead of seeing your dull cream coloured room, you saw shimmering stars above the cold night. Seconds of staring at the exquisite scenery, you realized that you fainted earlier when the enigmatic man saved you from those bastards.

"You're finally awake." You hastily whipped your head at the man who saved you earlier.

"A-Ah, where am I?" You asked with fear. Even though he's your saviour, you're still cautious of him. What if he's one of those bad guys whose lurking around the busy streets?

Also what made you alarmed is that he's body was printed in lines like a typical thug you always encountered in the streets. But despite him looking like a thug, he really has handsome features that every woman wants for a man.

"We're on the roof," he answered you to which your mouth fell open.

"E-Eh?!" You quickly sat up from your lying position and you found out that you're really on a roof. You can spot the people walking underneath you, not noticing your presence which only above them.

"W-Why are we here?" You queried and the man gives you a side glance before answering you.

"Do you prefer sleeping on that alleyway where hundreds of perverts passing by or here where no one can touch you? Choose."

"But you can book a room in a hotel, there are lots of here actually," you countered and Akaza glared daggers at what you asserted.

"Do you really think I would do that? What are you? A spoiled princess who can get all the things that she wants?" He snorted causing you to sweatdropped at his harsh reply.

Deliberating your answer earlier, you apprehended that your statement was actually rude and really self-indulgent. Since when did you start being selfish? You're not that kind of person.

"Thank you for saving me earlier, I owe you a lot," you said your gratitude to him as you bowed in front of him.

Akaza merely stared at you then scoffed. "If only you're not a woman, I can kill you this instant," he threatened which give chills through your spine. You can sense the intimidating aura he gives and how his fiery eyes pierced right into your soul.

His appearance really does intimidating, although you just met him today; you can feel the confidence he gives off and you're cognizant that he's indeed strong after you beheld how he handled those men with just a kick of his. In spite of knowing how dangerous this man was; you can feel that he's not that bad just like how his appearance seems to be. Your instincts said so and you can't help but trust this man in front of you even you don't know his entire personality.

Unbeknownst to you, the men who tried to harass you beforehand was killed and eaten by him just like how he usually does to every single person that he comes across to.

"I'm sorry if I caused you trouble, I was just going back home but they abruptly blocked my way," you spoke, not looking at Akaza beside you.

The upper demon glanced at you before darting his eyes at the people walking by. "I'm not interested in hearing how you almost harassed by those assholes, it's your own imbecility that leads you from that predicament."

You weakly smiled. "Is it stupid to buy some medicine for your health in order for you to live longer?"

Akaza's body stiffened upon hearing your statement. Gradually, he turned his head to gaze at you who has this kind smile crept on your face and coughing for a moment.

"I have a frail body and I can get easily sick. I don't know how did I even live for this long despite that my body can't keep up any longer," you explained in a gentle tone. "I was thinking of scenarios of how my mother took care of me when I was still inside his womb. I don't even have any idea who she was and I was adopted by an old woman who was passing by on that day then found me in the trash. She's the one who raised me up to this day despite that I can no longer live that long."

Akaza only listened at your storytelling and didn't bother to look at you. He can hear you sniff and how your voice wavered in every sentence you say. He doesn't even know himself to why he's still staying with the likes of you who he despises the most. He should be elsewhere right now, trying to find some human to hunt and eat. But his conjectured plan was interrupted when he stumbles upon a weakling like you.

He was keenly listening to you that really made him baffle. Why is he staying with you? He can't point out to why but he has this sense of nostalgia crawling through his body. Akaza was agitated, it frustrates him why he's suddenly feeling this kind of emotion. He also felt it earlier when he saw you being harassed by those bastards. Although he digs dipper into his memories, he still can't. The enigmatic sensations he was feeling has still settled.

Akaza resembles you to someone he knows but he can't decipher who it was. His mind was in full chaos just because he met a weakling runt.

"I-I'm sorry if I suddenly confide about my past with you, it's just that... I feel I can trust you even though we just met," you bashfully said as you tilt your head to the side for him not to see your flustered face.

Akaza stared at you for half a minute before responding. "Why do you even trust someone like me? You don't know who I am and mostly, you don't know what I'm capable of," he grimly remarked as he spins your body to face him and leaned his face closer to you, intently looking into your eyes.

You gasped at his sudden move and breath hitched due to the close proximity of you having.

Now that you can see him up close, you discovered that his eyes were a shade of yellow and there's a writing that says upper moon three. You were bewildered to why he has writings in his eyes but... amidst, you were mesmerized to his eyes. Studying his facial features, you deemed how gorgeous this man was even there are blue marks surrounding his body. His eyelashes have the same colour as his hair. His appearance really is peculiar for someone living in Japan but, you can't help but be stunned at how beautiful this man in front of you as if your eyes were blessed or something.

Staying in that position, you subconsciously, glided your hands on his pale cheeks. This causes Akaza to snap out from his trance and menacingly glared at you. However, you weren't even terrified of how the way he sinisterly looked at you. The only reason why you still had the tenacity to hold him like this is because of his enthralling eyes that you can't avoid your gaze at it.

"You're really beautiful," you absentmindedly said.

Akaza's lips separated to what you had told him. He didn't expect that someone will say such pleasant words to him despite that he's a demon. He killed thousands of people and eat them, hence, he doesn't deserve that complimenting word you just spout. He wants to pull his body, however, half of him wants to feel the warmth you're giving him on his cheeks. For some unidentified reason, he felt comfort in between your hands. he felt this kind of sensation before, but when?

"Oi," he called to which you blink your eyes several times and return to your senses.

When you realized that you're holding his cheeks, your face steamed in embarrassment and frantically removed your hands on his visage.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't intend to--"

"What's your name?" He abruptly asked.

"Eh?" You blink, still not processing his words.

"I said what is your name?" His voice becomes stern.

"(Name)! (Name) (Last name)! But you can call me, (Name)," you piped and Akaza nodded in acknowledgement.

Then to your surprise, the pink-haired man carried you bridal style and jumped on the roof to descend on the ground. The people passing by was surprised at the sudden appearance of you and him and afterwards, Akaza releases you.

"You should go home, I don't want to save your sorry ass again," he spat which causes you to chuckle.

"Gladly, but wait, what's your name before we depart."

"Akaza," he simply said and you hummed.

"Okay, Akaza-san, thank you for saving my butt there. I hope we can meet again." You bestow him your tender smile then the said man elicits a scoff before turning his back at you.

"Whatever." Was all he said before disappearing into thin air.

You gasped in shock when he suddenly vanished in front of you. You wandered your eyes in order to see the man but he was nowhere in sight.

Meanwhile, at Akaza, he was on the roof of one of the buildings in Kabukicho while watching you searching for him. Clicking his tongue, he decided to go back where Muzan and the other upper demons at. Before he departs, he glances at your figure who's now walking through the streets to return to your home.

"Okay, Akaza-san, thank you for saving my butt there. I hope we can meet again."

The upper demon replayed your statement earlier. Absentmindedly, the side of his lips curved upwards.

"Surely we'll meet again, (Name), until I find the answers of these nostalgic feelings I'm feeling," he said to himself thus started to return back to their hideout.

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfiction #akaza x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny akaza #kny akaza x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader

[irregardlessly-tish]

tell us those thrid world country scary stories

This isn’t even the worst third-world country shit, this is like easy third-world country mode: Whenever you leave your house you never know for sure if you’ll come back, especially if you’re a woman ‘cause you could get kidnapped, raped, and murdered. Criminals here really don’t give a fuck and they’ll shoot you even if you give them all the money and stuff you carry with you. Even at home, you can’t feel 100% sure because at any time a random group of robbers could enter your home even if you have a guard dog or a security system. These people fear nothing, they’ll kill you and your dog without even thinking it twice because it doesn’t really matter to them, even if they get caught they’ll get a slap on the wrist, maybe be detained for 24hrs at max, and then they’re free and these criminals reproduce quicker than covid spread because they see how easy it is to commit crimes here so why wouldn’t they have a go at it? People without jobs have lots of kids and then send them to beg for money in the streets, they have even more children because the government is meant to aid them and pay them bonuses for each kid which you know, is meant to be used for the kid and to send them to school but that’s not what they used it for, the government could surely offer them jobs as well so they could generate their own money but politicians won’t do that because they have their own kids or family members who don’t want to look for a job for themselves so they send their lazy family and friends to do these state labor jobs that don’t really require any particular school background or anything and would be great for all of those who couldn’t afford school when they were younger but no, let’s give these jobs to parasites and give measly bonuses to the other people so they are content.

At the beginning of covid, there was this case of a prison that started a riot, because the poor murderers and rapists were sad they couldn’t see their families and didn’t want to be trapped together and catch the virus. Meanwhile, there were lots of people with families in other provinces who couldn’t go visit their sick relatives at hospitals or even make the proper funeral arrangements for those who passed and couldn’t say their goodbyes to, because they weren’t allowed to leave their own houses/provinces. So, naturally, you would say fuck you to the criminals because if an innocent person cannot bury their own parents or kids because of quarantine why the fuck would you set free people who damaged others? Well, the government didn’t think so and they said “okay, you all murdered and raped but you deserve to go home until the pandemic ends, I trust you’ll all stay at your houses and don’t commit any more crimes” and let them out of the prison.

Another fun thing was the death of Maradona, a famous football player, and terrible person. He died in the middle of the pandemic and everyone including the president was so sad their favorite misogynist piece of shit died that our president said “Hey, let’s have his funeral at the government house, placed reserved for definitely not this kind of events and let's allow abso-fucking-lutely anyone to come to mourn their favorite dipshit :)” and they fucking did. They had the gall to tell everyone to stay home a month ago, to prohibit families to get together when they had to mourn the deaths of their sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, but then this fucker dies and everyone from every province of the country is allowed to gather without masks or any kind of security protocol. They really did that. And then they tell normal people and not stupid motherfuckers who think it’s normal to gather to mourn a stupid football player (who said he’d spit in the face of (one of his many) illegitimate child if he ever saw him) to keep social distance and wear masks as if they didn’t just throw the most massive covid party of the year? They literally blame us all for the covid cases not decreasing when they did.fucking.that.

Oh, did I mention politicians thought the pandemic was a great moment to increase their own salaries for no fucking reason instead of, I don’t know, increasing sanity funds? The salaries of health professionals or essential works? Nah, politicians need it more.

And like I tell you, this is the easy third-world country mode, I don’t even wanna go into femicides or political corruption because I get mad.

#;replies #;anonnymous

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Heeeey, @badthingshappenbingo​ is finally underway! @burtlederp​ asked for Worked Themselves to Exhaustion with Ryan as our POV/Main, so here it is! 

Bloodstains = requested, puppy sticker = completed

This is set post-rescue and post-trial. Tagging the crew: @spiffythespook​, @bleeding-demon-teeth​, and @special-spicy-chicken​!

CW: Very little, actually! Some references to parental abuse and implied/references past assault/violence, but mostly this is just Ryan being Ryan

Ryan woke up with a start to discover he’d fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen table, forehead resting on one arm and the other simply hanging loose down at his side.

He still had the mug of coffee he’d been drinking sitting next to him, his fingers loosely curved around the handle. He dragged his free hand up and over to find the ceramic had totally cooled, the coffee no doubt cold and stale inside.

He blinked, lifting his head slowly, wincing at the crick of pain in his neck. What time was it? How long had he been asleep? His phone was buzzing on the table next to him and he blinked, blearily looking over at it. Must've been what woke him. Fuck, was it really 9:45 already?

When he saw ‘MOM’ and the photo he’d set of he and Corrine at the beach a couple of years ago lighting up the screen, he groaned, hit the button to silence it, and let his head drop back to the table.

He was so fucking tired and he did not have the energy to deal with his mother right now. Maybe not ever again, not where Danny was concerned.

She would tell him to get an aide, she was always telling him to get an aide. Move out (you can move right back in the house with Dad and I until you find a place, no reason to linger there wasting your twenties), leave him and Vandrum with a full-time home health care aide.

You shouldn’t feel obligated to take care of him, Ryan.

But he did, and maybe if Mom had ever felt obligated to really care about Danny, he wouldn’t have ended up wearing a goddamn dog collar in western Canada.

Not that it was Canada’s fault, or anything. Ryan hadn’t ever realized how fucking huge Canada was, before he’d flown into Edmonton on the fastest flight he could find, rented a car, and then drove and drove and drove and fucking drove to the police station his brother was waiting in - only to realize it had been more hours upon hours of driving for Nate to get Danny there in the first place.

That cabin in the woods had been literally in the middle of fucking nowhere, and Ryan couldn’t possibly have known, right?

He should have, though. He should have, and maybe none of it would ever have happened if his mother and father hadn’t said all that shit to Danny five years ago about regretting adopting someone who didn’t want to be part of the family business, and therefore part of the family.

They might not see their obligations, but Ryan did. He was obligated, because while Danny had been up in those woods suffering, learning to believe that Denner fucker's lies that he isn't a person, that his body belongs to Denner to use however he wants, learning to call himself a puppy and give up his name and his body and his humanity to stay alive, Ryan had been looking in all the wrong places trying to find him.

He had looked for four straight years. He'd started looking the day Danny didn’t come home from his weird meetup with the older guy he was either just crushing hard on or actually dating, no one seemed to know, and he'd kept looking until the day the cops called and said We’ll know for sure once we’ve done the DNA test, Mr. Michaelson, but we’re pretty sure this man is your brother. He had never, ever stopped looking.

He had leveraged his parents’ wealth and influence to pull together private searches long after law enforcement had given up. He had kept looking even when the cops and the FBI stopped helping them find a living man and started focusing on recovering a corpse one day, maybe decades from now, when some dumbass hiker might trip over his brother’s bones in the woods-

Stop it. He survived. You brought him home. You couldn't have known where Denner would take him. You couldn't have done more.

Yes, he could have.

He had been looking, but he hadn’t looked hard enough. He'd looked in the wrong spots, he had missed clues, somewhere, somehow.  What if there had been a white hair in the bloodied car they missed? What if Denner had left a fingerprint on Vandrum's apartment building? What if what if what if.

What if none of it would ever have changed a thing?

No, his mother didn't understand, but he couldn’t ever give enough of himself to Danny's recovery to make up for what he had lost, for what he was still losing. For time suffered and time spent trying to heal.

His mother’s photo blinked away and the phone went back to empty black. Ryan sighed in relief… only to watch it light right back up as she tried a second time.

“No, fucking no,” He groaned, fighting the child’s urge to answer just because it was her, because he loved her, because she loved him. Him, but not his brother. The eternal hidden truth of the Michaelson family - one child loved, the other left out, chased off, and lost. "Leave a goddamn voicemail, Mom, come on."

He'd been up all night, for the third night in a row, and Ryan was tapped the fuck out.

One super fun discovery Ryan had made about bringing home two people who had lived in nonstop fight-or-flight-or-freeze mode for four years was that they never stop getting sick.

Danny's immune system had apparently just checked out at some point and left, and Ryan could usually handle it, but this virus or whatever it was... was bad.

Vandrum usually did his best to help, but he had caught the bug, too, this time. Which meant two grown men reduced to middle-of-the-night coughing fits and all-day fevers, two grown men essentially helpless, two grown men Ryan had found himself in charge of.

Ryan wasn't only taking care of his traumatized older brother who refused to let him touch him, even just to check to see if his fever had broken, but also his brother’s equally traumatized maybe-boyfriend who never flinched or pulled away but who instead stared at Ryan with glassy, frightened green eyes and gritted teeth as he simply put up with Ryan’s clumsy attempts at caretaking in silence, only breaking it with the occasional pl-please let Red sl-sleep, he can’t d-d-do chores today, I’ll d-do his chores f-for him, please...

One more day of this and Ryan might crack.

He's stocked the fridge with all the stuff he remembered Mom buying when they were sick as kids - ginger ale and Pedialyte (did adults drink that shit? Vandrum and Danny hadn't put up a fight when he brought it to them and God knew they weren't keeping any food down yet), chicken soup from the deli in little microwave-safe containers, some Gatorade. There were saltines open on the counter, from the only experiment with solid food either man had attempted since they first got sick.

Ryan had never seen someone throw up saltines before, but at least Vandrum had seemed decently ashamed of himself for it. Danny hadn't even tried them.

It's 9:45 in the morning and all Ryan wants to do is crawl back into his own bed and drift, but if he does he knows one of them will need him, and the only thing worse than not sleeping is finally, finally getting to sleep only to be almost immediately woken up by grown men so knocked out by some kind of virus that they could hardly stand on their own.

Ryan slowly sits up straight, feeling pops along his spine from having been slumped over the table for so long, wondering if twenty-four was too young to have his fucking bones crack when he moves, like an old man.

“One hour,” He says out loud, to no one in particular. “If they don’t need anything in the next hour, I’m giving up and going to fucking bed.”

He pours himself a fresh cup of coffee, which does absolutely nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. He listens to the voicemail his mother eventually leaves, after her third and fourth attempts go unanswered.

Here’s to hoping you’re sleeping, Ryan, and don’t worry, I was just wondering how you were doing and if you had any updates on how Danny and his, um, friend are doing. I can have Mrs. Verona over there to give you a break, poor dear, just say the word.

I was sleeping, Mom, Ryan thinks bitterly, rubbing at his forehead with the heel of one hand as he listens, ignoring for the moment that technically he had fallen asleep sitting at the table like a parent with a newborn and not an adult with a sick brother. Your fucking phone calls woke me up, congratulations, Corrine Michaelson, you’re a gold-star mom today.

No, that wasn’t fair. She was just worried, Mom knew he wasn’t sleeping enough since Danny came home. She was just trying to help, with the offers of an aide or of sending Mrs. Verona over for a day. 

She wasn’t trying to chase Danny off again, she wasn’t trying to make him feel like less-than even when he’d only just really started to get his feet under himself again. She just wanted to help Ryan, like always, and was so blinded by it that she missed that what helped Ryan sometimes hurt Danny.

She’d never meant to be awful to Danny, really, it had always just… happened.

Why do you always make excuses for her? Why don’t you just admit it, give it a name, and try to protect him from them while he’s still so fragile and so easily torn apart all over again? He needs someone who can stand up for him this time, and you never have, you always, always let them blame him. You let him run to Eureka to get away from them, so he was in this stupid town when that fucking psychopath came calling to pick his ex up again.

You let them chase Danny away, and it’s your fault he was here when Abraham Denner wanted a new victim. It’s your fault, Ryan, and you have to fix it, so stop whining to yourself about being tired and take care of the brother you couldn’t save when it counted.

You can start by calling what Mom and Dad do to Danny what it is, by calling it-

“Ryan?”

He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone coming, but he looks up now to see Danny leaning against the open-framed doorway to the kitchen, staring in at him with stark surprise written across his face.

The wavy red hair is sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and his blue eyes are fever-bright, two bright red splotches mark his cheeks. His face is otherwise chalk-white, freckles and the ring of half-healed scarring standing out in garish, nearly neon red in a perfect outline of that fucking thing Ryan can barely stand to think about.

“What’re you doing up? You look dead on your feet, man.” Ryan stands up, slowly so he doesn’t surprise him - Danny still doesn’t like it when people move too fast around him, and the fever definitely doesn’t help with that problem - and sets his coffee mug on the table. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I’m not s’posed to, to be in th’ bed.” Danny glances over his shoulder, then back, putting a finger to his lips. “Ssshhh. He must’ve… told Nate it was okay...” Danny’s eyes drift, aimlessly, to the side, looking with confusion at the window above the kitchen sink, with the faded, ancient little pleated floral curtain that had been in the apartment when Danny moved in.  “That’s not right. What d’you think he did to earn me getting to sleep in the bed?”

Something in Ryan cracks a little more, the way it always does every single time Danny says something else like this, some new piece of heart-deep horror that Danny doesn’t even seem to recognize for what it is.

“I don’t suppose it would help to tell you you’re home,” Ryan says, wearily, thinking longingly about the last few swallows of hot coffee left and whether it’s worth drinking it if it’s not going to even touch the fatigue. “Would it?”

“I wish I could go home.” Danny speaks the words so softly Ryan nearly misses them. “I wish, but there isn’t one anymore. I know all the rules. I’m so fucking tired, Ryan. Are you still looking for me?”

“Danny?” He’s so exhausted that it takes too long, far too long, for it to really sink in that Danny isn’t talking to him at all, but to some memory he’s having, that Danny’s lost in the woods again.

“I wish I got to keep my name.” Danny whimpers the words more than speaks and then slides straight to the floor in one swift motion. Ryan can’t cross the distance in time to stop him and Danny thumps to the ground nearly bonelessly, still braced against the door frame, closing his eyes slowly and resting the side of his head against it. “You have to look in the woods, Ryan. We’re in the woods.”

When Ryan crouches in front of him, reaching out one hand, he doesn’t flinch or pull away, not when Ryan’s palm presses against his sweaty, boiling-hot forehead, not when he feels the rabbit-fast flutter of his pulse in the side of his neck. 

“Whatever you want,” Danny mumbles, eyes half-opening, then closing again. “Do whatever you want. I’ll be good.”

He’s going to have to stand Danny up, and he can barely find the energy to straighten his legs for himself. Three days - three days of the fevers that come and go, the coughing that wakes him up when he does sleep, his mother’s worried phone calls, Vandrum being fucking useless because he’s sick, too.

He just.

It’s just too fucking much and Ryan never realized how hard it would be to do all of this totally alone.

“Danny, I’m so goddamn tired,” Ryan says out loud, near tears himself. “I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep taking care of you-”

“S’okay,” Danny slurs back to him. “Go back t’bed. I can make breakfast. I need to do chores… s’time, he can’t see I’m late, he can’t, can’t see-” Danny starts trying to push himself back to his feet, and Ryan is half-impressed, half-horrified when his desperately ill brother manages to make himself stand back up, knees locked, glittering, distant eyes fixed on the sink. Ryan stands with him, slowly, his hands out but uncertain what to do next. “Do dishes. Start with dishes. He has to see I’m still working…”

Danny takes a step and simply collapses forward, but this time Ryan is there to catch him under the arms in an awkward half-hug, and Danny shudders at the touch but he’s too weak to pull away or fight back, too weak to even try.

“Look in the woods,” Danny mutters, and his forehead falls against Ryan’s shoulder, thumping into it hard enough to make Ryan wince. “Look in th’ woods for us. Sssshhhhh… everything’s so fuckin’ loud…”

“You’re the only one talking here, buddy,” Ryan murmurs, closing his own eyes just for a second, feeling himself sway a little, a sort of dip in his brain where the white fog of tired takes over before his eyes jolt back open. “Shit. I, I have to sleep, Dan, or I’m gonna die.”

“Don’ die,” Danny mutters, without moving even an inch. “Don’ die. Mom’ll be mad at me.”

Ryan laughs, and after a second Danny huffs a sound that might be laughter, too, and finally Ryan braces himself, pushing Danny back up to where he’s taking at least a little of his own weight. “Okay, okay. I got an idea. Go back to my room, okay? We’ll lie down in there.”

“I have to start chores,” Danny protests faintly, his eyes dancing around aimlessly again, then landing back on Ryan’s face. “Can you tell Mom to call me in sick today? There’s no way I’m going to school. Abraham’s gonna be so mad at me... I can’t go t’school today...”

“You’re twenty-six years old, big brother,” Ryan grunts as he manages to get Danny’s arm around his shoulder to hold him up, taking his weight, his head pounding. He just had to get to bed. Just that far, not too far at all. “You haven’t been in school for a long time.”

“Oh.” Danny frowns, confused, and when Ryan starts trying to walk, he drags his feet along beside him, nearly shuffling. Their progress down the hallway is slow, but damn it, it still counts as progress, and Ryan can see his bedroom door getting closer with every step. “Did I graduate? I don’t remember that.”

Ryan sighs, taking a pause to redistribute Danny’s weight. He’s going to fall over right here in the hallway, pass out and sleep for a week. Right there on the floor. Maybe someone will drop an omelet or something for him to eat while he’s down there.

Who would make it, though, if Danny and Vandrum are both totally useless? Maybe if he called his mother, she’d send Mrs. Verona over with, like, a fucking honeyed ham or something.

“No, Dan, you didn’t. You were still one semester out. They sent you an honorary degree, though, I have it stashed somewhere.”

You know, when they thought you were dead, when everyone but me gave up.

“Honor degree.” Danny giggles, the sound eerie and unfamiliar, a high-pitched noise he’s almost never made in Ryan’s entire memory. “Degree for honor. What’s honor when you fuck like I do now?”

“If there is a God, may you never say anything like that ever again.” Ryan manages to get his door open, although only barely, and he stumbles a few feet into the room before simply letting Danny fall right into the bed, breathing hard.

“May I have permission to sleep?” Danny mumbles, eyes already closing as he mostly crawls his way further into the bed. Ryan’s heard him ask Nate Vandrum that question every fucking night since they brought him home, with the occasional lapse when he remembers he’s a human being and grown-ass humans don’t have to ask permission to fall asleep.

Just like they shouldn’t have to ask permission to shower or bathe or sit in a chair and not on the floor or eat with a fork or…

No. Too tired to be angry right now.

“Yes,” Ryan says heavily. “Yes, you can sleep.”

“Thank you for letting me sleep, Ryan.” The voice is soft and fuzzy, gentle and grateful, and Ryan fucking hates Danny’s stupid fucking rules and his stupid fucking puppy voice. And he hates that he’s so tired that he can’t stop himself from being angry that Danny still uses it rather than focusing on the fact that sometimes, for whole days, he doesn’t.

“No problem, buddy. Get some rest.”

He watches Danny curl up, turning his six-foot-two body into something shockingly small. His knees go to his chest and his arms curve over his head with his hands loosely splayed over his hair, a defensive position to ward off the blows that might be coming at any time.

He never slept like that before, he’d said to Vandrum one night early on, when they’d both woken up and caught Danny curled up like that on the floor next to the couch.

Yeah, w-w-well, your p-parents didn’t w-w-wake him up with head t-trauma, did they? Nate had said, and Ryan had hated him a little less, in the moment, when he’d seen the guilt written across his face. Nate was always guilty, and he damn well should be, but Ryan had plenty to be guilty about, too.

Plenty to make up for.

And he’ll be right back to that as soon as he gets some goddamn sleep.

Ryan sighs, swaying a little, and finally climbs in, sliding under the covers, unruly black curls falling over his face. He watches Danny, already out, curled up and ready to be kicked awake at any moment.

He falls asleep with one hand out, resting on top of the comforter within inches of Danny, not quite touching him.

#Daniel Michaelson's story #Bad Things Happen Bingo #bthb Daniel Michaelson's story #whump #trauma recovery #angry caretaker #broken whumpee #deconditioning #conditioning #dehumanization #pet whump #recovery whump #hurt/comfort #h/c #sick fic #of a sort #I suppose #ryan michaelson is a good brother