#i have the highest pain tolerance out if everyone i know

[norrisleclercf1]

Norstappen taking care of a reader dealing with period cramps ;)

( you’re free to imagine how )

A/N: Good little study break writing, but I'm also putting my experience with my periods as having PCOS on this, everyone is different with theirs, but when I write periods imagines I can only go off mine hope that's okay deary

Sitting up in the dark, you knew something didn't feel right as your stomach was tightening yet you knew you weren't sick, Lando didn't cook dinner. Shivering slightly you tried to understand the reason for the tremors.

Getting out of bed was anything but graceful, you had two F1 drivers sleeping on either side of you, moving you felt your world tilting as you stepped on either Lando or Max, in the moment you didn't care. Rushing into the bathroom you slam the door as you barely get there in time before you're hunched over the toilet losing control of your stomach.

The taste of battery acid and the lower cramps in your pelvis have you whimpering. You felt the tall tell sign of your period starting, and if you getting sick from it meant anything, it meant you were not about to have an easy time. Stomach curling and throat burning you cried as you threw up yet again another cramp taking over your body as you finished.

Flushing the toilet you laid your head on the cold tile floor, your body shaking from the cramps rolling through your body like a tsunami. "Y/n, love?" You whimper hearing the groggy voice of Max, and thump at the door means Lando was awake, but leaning on it. "Y/n, let us in, come on." Lando coaxed gently knocking on the door again.

"Please, we know what's happening." Max whispered, he didn't want you to feel the need to hide from them what is happening. "It's not locked," You whimper, tears falling down your face at the horrendous pain. Max pushes it open and Lando doesn't wait for the door to even get a crack before he's by your side.

His nose twitches, but doesn't say a word as he checks on you, then goes to the shower and turns in on, to the highest tolerable temperature knowing the heat would help you best. Max takes off his shirt and moves to you. "Come on, we'll get the shower." Max whispers, eyes fluttering with sleep but moves with such care you could cry for a different reason this time.

Lando makes sure the temperature is perfect and gathers your clothes and walks out, he comes back just as Max is baring all your weight moves you into the shower with him. He doesn't make you stand, but slides down the wall and sits as you cry, the heat untwisting the knots in your stomach and the brittle tension in your muscles.

Lando moves around the house as Max closes his eyes and slowly moves his hands to rub soft but firm circles into your body. "Hurts," You whisper, you hate feeling this way, but thankfully over the years the boys have learned what they can do to help you. The shower door is pulled open and Lando pops his head in, squatting down.

"Are you alright? What do you need?" He asks, his brain finally awake and the worry in his eyes bright. "I'm okay, the shaking has stopped and the cramps are lessening," "Give us another 10 and we'll be out." Lando nods and leans forward skillfully missing the water as he gives both you and Max a kiss.

You close your eyes and get lulled to comfort, but whine when you feel cold but stop when something warm and fluffy is wrapped around you. Opening your eyes you notice it's a black towel fresh out of the dryer and Lando is cleaning you up slowly. "Step in," He holds out a pair of his boxer briefs and smile up at him. He stands and gives you a soft kiss before helping you into Max's larger t-shirt.

"Let's get you into bed," "The sheets?" "Don't worry about it," Max comes up behind you two and herds you both into the bedroom. Lando scoots in and you slowly crawl over him and get back into your spot. You smile knowingly at the fact Lando had indeed changed the sheets, even if you hadn't bleed through. Max walks over and climbs into his side of the bed.

"Do you want us to cuddle you or do you want your space?" Lando asks, voice soft as his fingers graze your cheek. "No cuddles, but just stay close?" You ask and Max chuckles and does just that, you three are close but not to close where you get annoyed at their touches. It was stupid, you body hated the unnecessary touching and it did nothing but annoy you.

Lando moves close and smiles at you through the dark, but like always he's the first to fall asleep. "Sleep well, don't worry about anything tomorrow, we'll be with you all day." Max whispers, words fading off as you both fall asleep.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagine #lando norris #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #lando norris fluff

[infiniteeight8]

Tony finding out about the timeloops with Dormammu because Stephen's filter is compromised by injuries/drugs/exhaustion/etc.

Warning for brief description of nasty injuries in the first paragraph.

-

Stephen Strange has the highest pain tolerance of anyone Tony has ever met, including himself and everyone he’s ever met that has super-healing. The man can—and has–calmly talked a teammate through removing multiple barbed spines skewering his own limbs. So when Tony lands next to him, post-battle, and finds him muttering, “It’s go away, just wait a moment, it’ll be gone any moment now,” it’s seriously alarming.

“Strange!” Tony says sharply, dropping to his knees and retracting the helmet. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” He runs a quick scan, but the only thing the suit picks up is a very bloody but not life threatening gash in his leg. For Strange to be this out of it, there must be something a lot worse going on.

Strange looks up at him and blinks, frowning. “Tony?” 

They’re not usually on a first name basis, but that’s been due to Strange’s reserve more than Tony’s. “Yeah, Stephen, I’m here.” He retracts a gauntlet and carefully takes the man’s hand. It’s shaking hard, much worse than normal. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Strange grips his hand tightly, enough that it has to hurt. “I don’t know if the time loop will include you, you have to go before Dormammu returns.”

The pieces all slot together. Strange is having some sort of flashback. “You’re in New York,” Tony says, as steadily as he can. “You’re in New York with me, with Tony Stark, and we just finished herding about a thousand flying demons back to their own dimension. Dormammu isn’t here, Stephen.”

But Strange just laughs, a tired, broken thing. “He’s not here now,” Strange says. “But he will be. He always comes back, and he always kills me again. He has to—I made the loop that way.” Stephen raises his other hand to clasp Tony’s between his. “But you don’t have to be here,” he says fiercely. “You don’t have to suffer.”

Tony’s heart breaks. “Stephen, it’s over,” he says quietly. “You won.”

Stephen laughs. “I can’t win. But I can lose. Over and over, forever.”

Tony doesn’t know what he can say to that, so he just pulls Stephen into his arms and holds onto him and waits for him to realize where and when he is. It takes longer than he expects, maybe fifteen minutes, before Strange finally murmurs, “Tony. You can let go now.”

Tony eases back so that he can look at Stephen, but doesn’t let go completely. “What happened?” he asked, because he’s never seen Strange lose it like that. 

Stephen huffs a wry laugh. “Magical exhaustion,” he says. “I really should have called for another mystic to help with those demons. Using up my reserves like that compromises mental control. It’s dangerous, for a sorcerer.”

And embarrassing, Tony expects, but if Stephen wants to sidestep that, Tony isn’t going to fight him on it. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Believe it or not, that hug helped a lot,” Stephen says. “Physical contact is good for restoring magical energy.”

That’s not the only thing it’s good for, but Tony doesn’t say anything, just keeps a hand under Stephen’s elbow as he helps him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get that gash looked at.”

Stephen nods. 

He doesn’t pull away from Tony’s grip.

#IronStrange #ficlet

[pcos-and-endo-awareness]

What’s YOUR personal experience with these disorders? :-)

Hello anon! I know I’ve made this post before but it’s buried somewhere. So here it is! Buckle up folks!

I always struggled with bad periods. Heavy flow, horrific cramps, irregular timing. I just thought that’s what it is and everyone deals with it. I figured the pain I experienced trying to use tampons was all in my head, some psychological fear due to my religious upbringing.

It wasn’t until college that I realized maybe my experience wasn’t normal. Maybe people aren’t supposed to be in this much pain. Maybe something was wrong. My pain got to be so overwhelming that I went to the emergency room. After a rather traumatic experience, I was eventually told that I had ovarian cysts and one of them had ruptured, and just go to my OBGYN and take some Advil. (Great advice, wonderful care. /s)

PCOS was in my family history, and my aunts and sisters all struggled with it. My then OBGYN diagnosed me with it, but basically said the same thing as the ER nurses. Take some ibuprofen and birth control and get over it. A diagnosis doesn’t do anything.

I had another episode with cysts about two years later, after I was out of college. I knew what it was this time, and I knew they’d only tell me the same thing. Take Advil and stop crying. So I didn’t bother going to the ER, and I tried to deal with the pain on my own. My (much nicer) OBGYN monitored the two softball sized cysts on my right ovary, and said we’d just keep an eye on them until they went away. That worked for a while, but not for long. One night my mother insisted on taking me to the ER because I was practically screaming in pain. After another traumatic visit, I was, you guessed it, told to take Advil and go home. It was probably another rupture.

Except it wasn’t. The next day I visited my OBGYN for an ultrasound so she could see what was going on. I was called back later that night and told to come in for emergency surgery. The cysts were torsing my ovary and cutting off the blood supply. Very scary situation, I’d never had a big surgery before. I was rushed in for the laparoscopy. This procedure usually takes less than a half hour. For me, I was on the table over two and a half hours. The reason being, not only did I have two huge cysts, but I was discovered to also have endometriosis. The cysts and all my organs had lesions, and everything was fused together. My OBGYN had to scrape the extra tissue from all my organs, she said it was the worst case of endo she’s ever seen, and I must have the highest pain tolerance ever to not be screaming my head off all day long. It was during this surgery I lost my right ovary, dead from having no blood supply.

Recovering from that surgery took me six months. It was brutal and at times, humiliating. My insides were raw and my muscles felt like goo. The only good thing to come out of it was meeting my lovely physical therapist, whom I still talk to today.

Today, five years later, I still deal with PCOS and endo. I have it mostly under control with the depo shot and many other medications. But… I struggle to lose weight, I have high blood pressure, I have major chronic fatigue, I’m at risk for diabetes, I still have migraines and flare ups and GI problems. My health is always going to be a problem for me. I am always going to be battling my hormones. I am going to struggle getting pregnant, if I even can. I am always going to have the risk of losing my other ovary and going into early menopause. I can only pray that these two disorders don’t take away more from me.

#my story #endometriosis #pcos #chronic illness #invisible illness #pcos awareness #endo awareness #pcos symptoms #endo symptoms #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #shitty doctors

[salembutnotthecat]

More Yulya/Novak and him being an absolute idiot eating gluten? Maybe in an important date, so he decides to just Suck It Up?

novak being an absolute idiot is my favorite flavor of request/fic, so i deeply appreciate this

also i've been missing these two so i'm so excited to write this

some background info: most figure skating competitions (international level) have banquets and stuff after the event itself. so i decided what better way for novak to be an absolute moron who thinks he's invincible. also wanted to introduce some more characters.

tw emeto, food intolerance, stomach pain (the obligitory 'novak is an idiot and won't tell his fiancée girlfriend' warning as well)

Novak can't say he dislikes the fact that even though he came with her, he can't spend most nights with Yuliya.

Sure, Yuliya might have been able to spend those nights in his hotel room, but neither of them really wanted to test that theory. Not right now, not when Yuliya is only in her second season back into competition.

Novak also can't say he's happy things turned out the way they did with the Mavericks. He really isn't happy that he had to step away from playing, and he's even less happy about the fact that the Mavericks lost their conference game and were done for the season. Novak is sure he's taking to it harder because he was there, on the sideline, he should have been able to play. But he can't play, he knows he can't. And it kills him.

But what he is happy about is being able to travel with Yuliya. Being able to go with her to Sheffield for the European Championships. Marina was more than happy to take Elya for the week. Novak would have brought her, but she was nine now. She was in school, more important schooling than had this happened when he was still playing.

Novak tried to think of the bright side. He tried to think of the positive things that went in with all of this mess. And that made it so much better.

Yuliya qualified to compete at the European Championships. Truth be told, Novak was incredibly impressed. Not that he didn't have the highest level of faith he could possibly have in the woman he asked to marry him, but he also knew from her that qualification was no easy task.

He was ecstatic she invited him to come with. Sure, having separate hotel rooms wasn't ideal, but he still saw her doing what she loved, and he still spent time with her.

"Do you want to come with me?" She had asked that evening, as she got ready in his hotel room.

Novak had shut his laptop, abandoning the thesis paper he was working on. It wasn't due for weeks and he was far enough ahead.n That was another thing he was thankful for, no longer playing meant he could finish his master's degree. Not that it mattered now, but it would be useful. If he ever needed it anyway.

"Come with you where?" Novak asked.

"To the banquet?" Yuliya said, "It's honestly pretty fun. Hey, can you fix this?"

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her hair away, Novak went to fix the collar of her dress. Or, whatever it was.

"Am I allowed to?" Novak asked, "I don't want you to-"

"Trust me, they don't care," Yuliya said, "At least, they never had before. Kirill's going to be there, Zalatoi said he might as well. He's not feeling so hot after his program which is to be expected. Wyatt too, I'm sure Wyatt will ask you all about Jayden but-"

"Yeah, I can go," Novak said, "You're lucky my mom convinced me to pack something nice."

That was how he ended up here. Sitting at a table with Yuliya. With Yuliya's friends. Other European skaters. It felt like another gala dinner, or a wedding reception. But it also didn't.

There was a lot of conversation. And Novak was pleasantly surprised how many people wanted to talk to him. He would never tell Yuliya, but he had been incredibly worried that everyone would either ignore him or not want him there. Novak wasn't much of an extrovert, but it was nice to just have people around who at least seemed tolerant of him being here.

He hadn't even realized dinner came, hadn't realized he's eaten either. But before he knew it, the staff was taking plates away. Including from him.

Yuliya was engrossed in a conversation with a girl from Bulgaria. Melina, Novak thought Yuliya had introduced her. Novak was more than happy to sit back and just listen to the conversations around him.

Kirill was talking to Yuliya and Melina. Something about World Championships, something about a place he went, they were talking vacations and sights before Novak knew it.

As time slipped away, Novak found it harder and harder to keep up with the conversation around him. He checked his watch, but forgot the time almost as soon as he looked away. It didn't matter, really.

Novak felt... weird. He didn't know how to explain it. Not immediately.

"Hey, I'll be right back," He whispered in Yuliya's ear, kissing her cheek lightly.

Novak excused himself from the table with a casual smile, excusing it as needing a quick bathroom break. He made his way through the lively crowd, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter fading as he stepped into the quiet of the restroom.

Leaning against the cool marble sink, Novak took a moment to collect himself. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he realized with a pang of regret that he must have eaten something that didn't agree with him. That was the only thing he could think of. After all, it was possible. He hadn't really been paying attention to what he was eating, and he definitely didn't want to make a deal out of it by saying anything. Unless this was something else, but it didn't feel like anything else. Really, it didn't feel like much of anything.

Splashing some water on his face, Novak tried to push the discomfort aside.

As Novak stood in front of the mirror in the restroom, took a few breaths, he couldn't shake off the sense of unease that had settled over him like a heavy fog.

Physically, he felt a knot of discomfort coiling in his stomach, a nagging sensation that something wasn't right. It was like a subtle but persistent ache, a dull throb that intensified with every passing minute. His mouth felt dry, he tasted the faintest trace of blood, he'd been biting his cheek of a little bit, he assumed. Maybe, then, it was anxiety. Being in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people. Sure he knew Yuliya's friends by legal definition, but they were her friends. Not his.

Despite these unsettling sensations, Novak tried to muster a sense of determination. He couldn't let this ruin Yuliya's night, not when she was so excited about the event. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture and splashed some water on his face, hoping to wash away both the physical discomfort and the mental fog.

As he returned to the banquet hall, the sights and sounds of the lively gathering seemed to come into sharper focus, though the knot in his stomach persisted. Novak resolved to push through, putting on a brave smile for Yuliya's sake. She wanted him here, he knew she did. He wasn't going to let her down.

Novak returned to the table with a practiced smile, hoping to blend back into the lively conversations seamlessly. Yuliya, ever perceptive, glanced at him with a gentle concern in her eyes.

"Everything okay? You were gone for a bit," she asked softly, her concern laced with a touch of worry.

Novak waved off her concern with a casual shrug. "Just needed a breather, all good," he reassured her. Yuliya nodded understandingly and turned back to her conversation with Melina, the topic shifting to upcoming competitions and training routines.

As the evening progressed, Novak's condition worsened despite his attempts to hide it. The knot in his stomach tightened, and waves of nausea washed over him with increasing frequency. At one point, he tied back his hair without thinking about it. The vibrant conversations around him blurred into an indescernable mix of voices, making it difficult for him to focus.

As he sat there, he only felt worse. As quickly as he realized something wasn't right, things took a turn for a worst. The need to be sick was urgent now, a desperate plea from his body to rid itself of whatever had caused this turmoil.

Yuliya was engrossed in a discussion with another skater, unaware of Novak's sudden departure. However, Kirill, who sat nearby, noticed Novak's hurried exit and the strained expression on his face.

Concerned, Kirill excused himself from the conversation and discreetly followed Novak to the restroom.

As Novak leaned heavily against the bathroom sink, his hands trembling slightly, he was hit with a wave of intense nausea that seemed to consume him from the inside out. The once-faint discomfort had escalated into a full-blown ordeal, his stomach twisting and churning as if in protest against whatever had triggered this sudden sickness.

Before he could register the severity of his condition, he turned quicker than he thought he could, dashing for one of the stalls, completely forgetting to shut the door, heaving uncontrollably. The taste of bile and the acrid scent filled the small restroom, adding to his misery. Each retch was accompanied by a sharp pang of pain, his body convulsing with the effort to expel whatever had upset his stomach so drastically.

Just as he struggled to catch his breath between bouts of vomiting, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kirill's concerned face appeared in the mirror's reflection. Kirill didn't hesitate, immediately taking action to check on Novak.

"Hey, easy there," Kirill said softly, placing a hand on Novak's back in a comforting gesture.

Novak spit, coughed, tried to catch his breath. Before getting so sick he fell to his knees.

"Ah shit, one of those," he hears Kirill say behind him.

Yuliya told him something about Kirill. But Novak couldn;t remember what it was. It was enough for Novak to know Kirill wasn't mad, at least.

Novak's face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the coolness of the restroom. His whole body trembled with exhaustion and the exertion of being violently ill. He felt weak and drained, his muscles protesting with every movement.

"Here," Kirill reached around, loosening a few buttons on Novak's chest without thinking.

"I-I don't know what happened," Novak managed to gasp out between breaths, his voice hoarse and strained. The sudden onset of sickness had caught him completely off guard, leaving him entirely shaken.

"It's okay, sometimes these things happen," Kirill reassured him, patting his back gently. "Just focus on breathing for now. Take small sips of water when you can."

Novak moved over. He didn’t want to tell Kirill to get his hands off him, but the touch was an annoyance at best. So, he simply moved over. He leaned against the stall wall, trying to steady his ragged breathing. The taste of bile lingered in his mouth, a bitter reminder of his body's revolt.

“This just happened?” Kirill asked.

Novak nodded, “I don’t… know why. Please don’t tell Yuliya.”

Kirill nodded in understanding, "I won't say anything if you don't want me to," he assured Novak, “But maybe you should consider telling her. She'd want to know you're not feeling well."

Novak hesitated, torn between wanting to keep Yuliya in the dark to avoid ruining her night and the practicality of getting some rest. "I... I'll think about it," he replied vaguely, not wanting to commit to either course of action just yet.

Kirill gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back slightly, giving Novak some space. "Take it easy. If you need anything, just let me know. And here, take this so you don’t exactly smell like you just puked up your dinner when you talk to Yuliya.”

Kirill grabbed a pack of gum from his pocket and handed it over. before leaving the restroom to give Novak some privacy.

Alone in the restroom, Novak took a few moments to compose himself. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, trying to come up with a plausible excuse to leave the banquet without causing undue concern. Finally, he decided on a simple explanation that wouldn't raise too many questions.

When Novak returned to the table, Yuliya immediately noticed the tired lines etched on his face. "Everything alright?" she asked, her concern evident in her voice.

Novak managed a weak smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, mom’s just trying to call.”

Yuliya nodded understandingly, her expression softening with concern. "Do you need to go?" she asked, ready to accommodate his needs.

"I think I should," Novak replied, relieved that his excuse seemed to work. "Sorry to cut out early."

Yuliya shook her head, her concern evident. "Don't apologize, your mom comes first. Take care of whatever it is, okay? I’ll come up in a bit anyway.”

Novak nodded gratefully, excusing himself from the table and making his way back to his hotel room.

-

Novak was exhausted. He wasn't sure how he ended up so terribly spent, but here he was.

He intended to put on something more comfortable and lay down. By now, his stomach was killing him and he was unbearably nauseous. A million things ran through his head as to why he was so sick. It was so sudden. He felt fine earlier, really he did. He felt fine until after dinner.

At some point, Novak dozed off. It didn't last long. Before Novak knew it, he stumbled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, his body heaving with the familiar sensation of sickness. He barely made it to the toilet in time, the sound of retching echoing in the confined space. Each wave of nausea was accompanied by a rush of adrenaline, his heart racing with the intensity of the sickness that seemed to have no end.

Meanwhile, Yuliya had returned to the hotel room, her footsteps quiet as she entered. Concern etched her features as she noticed Novak's absence from the room. His phone was on the nightstand. She walked over and plugged it in for him.

"Novak?" she called out softly, her voice tinged with worry.

The sound of vomiting from the bathroom answered her question before Novak could. With a sinking feeling in her chest, Yuliya hurried to the bathroom door, pushing it open to find Novak hunched over the toilet, his face pale and beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Novak, what's wrong?" Yuliya's concern was evident as she knelt down beside him, one hand pushing back some hair that got in the way. The sight of him in such distress tugged at her heart, her worry for his well-being overriding any inconvenience or plans for the evening.

Novak glanced up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"I... I don't know," he admitted hoarsely, the truth of his situation laid bare in front of Yuliya. "I've been feeling off since the banquet, and it just keeps getting worse."

Yuliya's gentle touch and comforting presence offered some solace to Novak as he struggled through another bout of sickness. Yuliya hated to leave him, but knew he hated her being so close when he wasn't feeling well. She stepped out, she changed out of her nice dress. She came back with a water bottle, just as Novak coughed up one last mouthful of whatever was making his stomach so pissed off.

Once the episode passed and Novak sat back, his breathing still ragged.

"Kirill was worried about you," Yuliya said, standing to grab a cup from the sink, pouring some water in the cup.

"Yeah, he followed me, for some reason," Novak said.

"Kirill has a chronic vomiting condition," Yuliya said, "It's like a sixth sense, he knows when someone is going to throw up."

"Wait how did-"

"I texted Marina," Yuliya said, "Asked her if she and Elya were okay after what you told me."

"Fuck, why?" Novak sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well, you didn't have to come to the banquet if-"

"I was feeling fine earlier," Novak said, "Genuinely, I don't know what happened. I ate dinner with you guys and just started feeling shitty."

Yuliya sighed, sitting next to Novak without a word. Novak looked to her, confused by her sudden silence.

Yuliya lightly faceplanted into his shoulder. Novak would have been worried, more worried about her than how terrible he felt. But Yuliya started laughing.

"You are so stupid," she scolded gently, her tone laced with exasperation but also a deep caring for his well-being.

Novak winced slightly at her words, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it fully.

"You had what I did, didn;t you?" Yuliya asked, "What… most of us had."

"I did but I mean," Novak said, "I didn't think about it and even if I had I didn't want the trouble of-"

"Zalatoi is complicated, he has to eat both gluten free and vegetarian or else he ends up like you," Yuliya said, "Kirill always substitutes the actual meal for a few sporadic rounds of lighter things, like a soup or salad or whatever they have. They are used to it, babe."

"I know, I know," he muttered, his gaze downcast as he felt a pang of guilt for causing such a scene.

Yuliya sighed, reaching for a towel to dampen with cool water and handing it to Novak. "Here, wipe your face. Then we can lay down and cuddle to make up for you giving me a heart attack and a half.," she said, her voice softening as she resumed her comforting gestures.

As Novak cleaned himself up, Yuliya couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and fondness towards him. His tendency to downplay things and brush off concerns had always been a source of mild irritation, but she knew it came from a place of not wanting to make a fuss or draw attention to himself.

"We'll make sure you're okay before anything else," Yuliya assured him, her hand resting on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture. It would have been nice to stay that way.

But it was Yuliya. Yuliya lightly smacked the back of Novak's head. "For fucks sake, next time pay more attention to what you eat."

"Oh," Novak said, "Well, if I do that, then I get to miss out on your excellent bedside manner and caregiving."

Yuliya smiled, "Keep talking and I'll drag you to bed, literally. Across the floor."

"You're hot when you're annoyed," Novak told her, smirking slightly.

Yuliya went to speak, but as always such a gesture left her speechless for a moment. She smiled again.

"Yeah, I know," Yuliya teased, "You're ugly when you aren't sending me into cardiac arrest."

"I'm what now?"

"Jokes on you," Yuliya interrupted, "You practically always send me into cardiac arrest."

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #emetophilia #the chronicles of novak daskalov being a fucking idiot #food intolerance tw

[auxiliarydetective]

i come bearing many asks !! for starters, how about i ask about numbers four, seven, eleven, and twelve from the first part of your ask extravaganza for my beloved varsha ?

hope you're doing well, my love <3

Hiiii Dolly! Thanks so much for your ask!

4. What is the one thing about themselves that they would change?

She would never openly admit it, but she's a little jealous of Henry's green eyes. So, if she could, she would exchange her dark brown eyes for dark green ones, but it only takes Henry complimenting her eyes a couple of times for her to forget all about it.

7. What odd habit do they have?

In snake form or human form? Because she has odd habits in both. Well, the fact that she's moving around the ship in snake form in the first place could already be considered odd since, well... snake? But that’s just because people forget that this is actually her natural form and her human form is one she actively takes on for their convenience. In fact, she had to learn not to turn back into a snake whenever she falls asleep.

In snake form though, she has the habit of coiling around people for warmth. Specifically, she likes crawling under their coats and resting her head on their shoulders and will sometimes even fall asleep like this. Her favourite victim for this is obviously Henry (he even bought a wider jacket for this specific reason, but don't tell anyone), but she also occasionally does it with Tom or Skinner, and even did it with Allan once - but that was because it was very cold and he told her to.

In human form she has that adorable little quirk some people have where they stick their tongue out a little when they work - and it looks even funnier with Varsha’s forked tongue. Frankly, everyone in the League thinks it's adorable, but if anyone points her quirk out to her, she will get embarrassed and try her best not to do it for a while, only to then eventually fail.

11. What is their favourite and least favourite food?

Oof, that's hard. Her favourite food has to be something Indian, but I don't know what. Probably a sort of sweet, but I could also see her enjoying something spicy that would make the other League members' (excluding Nemo and maybe Allan) tongues catch fire. Varsha definitely has the highest spice tolerance out of the League. Nemo likes to pretend that he can keep up but he can't, he's just hiding the pain. As for her least favourite food, she probably doesn't like scones. She generally is personally offended by the English and their idea of tea as well as everything connected to it, so scones just seemed like a very obvious pick. Also, she doesn't like tiramisu because it has coffee in it.

12. What is their sleep schedule like? Do they get their 8 hours of sleep or do they run on caffeine?

Oh boy, Varsha's sleep schedule is a mess, at least from a human perspective, and that's mainly because of one reason: As a snake, Varsha is technically nocturnal. However, only technically, because she's living with humans and works on a ship run by humans, so she can't just sleep all day. Usually, she stays up late and sleeps until late morning, then catches up on the rest of her sleep through various naps throughout the day - because snakes also usually sleep a lot. She can pretty much fall asleep anywhere anytime but she's also a light sleeper, which isn't a good combination with her being able to sense the vibrations in the ground caused by people walking. She thinks she has gotten better at sleeping through it but actually the League members just learned to tread lightly. The worst thing that can happen to her is for the League to go on a mission, because then she she has to get up early and her whole sleep cycle falls apart - which is worsened by the fact that she hates coffee.

[cream-and-tea]

nightmare, secret, and wound for the character(s) you think have the most interesting answers!!!

~Morri (@memento-morri-writes)

Not Nice ask game here! (all of these questions are pallasbait so i’m going to get that out of my system and answer all three for them lol)

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

pallas has a pretty messy relationship with the concept of sleeping in the same way that they have a pretty messy relationship with most Basic Human Needs, so they really only sleep when they absolutely cannot stay awake any longer. but if i’m being honest they’ve repressed everything they could have nightmares about SO hard that they don’t really have bad dreams and if they do they don’t remember them when they wake up. they do have one extended nightmare sequence in the book as i’ve planned it but that happens when they’re actively bleeding out + their entire worldview is crumbling, so it’s really a way to show the way all of their Repression Level 5000 Mental Blocks have started to break down lol

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

this is kinda hard to answer because pallas hate hate haaaaates being Perceived in any meaningful capacity, so their view of what counts as “secret” is massively skewed lol. if they had their way no one would be able to access any information about them without going through a fifty step vetting process and a blood oath binding them to never repeat any of it (which isn’t to far off from what they actually do tbh).

apart from one Super Huge Spoiler Thing i think the thing that pallas wouldn’t want ANYONE to know is that they aren’t anywhere NEAR as secure in themself/their position as everyone thinks. they put a lot of effort into coming across as Cool and Detached and Cruel, so to have anyone see past that would be absolutely devastating. because if someone could look and see how much what pallas does is eating them alive they might try to question it and bring them out of it and force them to—GOD forbid—self reflect for once. they’ll take hatred and fear over pity any day.

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

heyyyyy character i have with the highest pain tolerance!!!! super powerful bloodflesh magic + incredibly taxing training (to put it mildly) + intense healing factor + functional immortality will do that to you!! due to uhhhhh All Of That pallas’s general response to being wounded is to walk that shit off unless it’s directly preventing them from completing their mission, which is a pretty high threshold. you know that they’re my specialist little guy because they’re constantly being battered physically mentally AND emotionally through the whole story. just put through the absolute ringer. it’s actually kind of hard to choose a worst one bc of that, but i’m gonna say that worst emotional/mental wound happened a year before the start of the book when their best friend nina Died supersuper hard and worst physical wound happens in book two when [REDACTED] [REDCATED]’s them ❤️

#oh pallas #oh pallas pallas pallas #sorry that these are so long i just think about them sooooo much #thank you for that there’s nothing i love more then talking about what’s wrong with this guy lmao #regarding the second one this is the root of exactly why pallas cannot STAND fiver #bc fiver knows enough and has seen enough and knows what they are and just point blank REFUSES to hate them for it #pallas goes ‘haha im scheming i’m so evil’ and fiver goes ‘okay. how does that make you feel?’ and pallas throws up and dies #and calliope evokes the same kind of discomfort because she’s Just Like Them For Real but she also hates them and #wants to kill them with his teeth. which is INFINITELY preferable in pallass mind lol #wip: ghost story #creme gets an ask #pallas

[gaysonlyocean]

return to escape from mandelatech/mandelatech lockdown me and hannahs weird improv point and click escape room roleplay bit, hannah has:

immediately told dave hes her best friend and tried to do heart hands thign with him unsuccessfully

found a like 2023 gaming laptop in the middle of the computer aisle alongside all the 2009 era computers

sniffed the gaming laptop

smoked a imaginary cigarette

said "if i was dave.... what would i do with my keys"

said "i dont think the key would be in toilet, also i dont wanna see N right now"

found a fake credit card in daves office made out of steel

tried to guess daves password

gotten into prolonged eyecontact with N via security cameras

said "IS THERE A SAFE IN HERE???" and when i said no she said "ok yeah i dont think robbing my best friend would have him still be my best friend"

turned the tv in the storage room around so six cant look at her struggling to solve this

tried to make a offering for sixs help with the three pennies by taping them to the screen

pressed her face really close to the screen and just stared

started just turning the lights in the storage room on and off again

said "HEY UGLY- wait no he wont talk to me if i say that HEY SIR QUESTION MARK I NEED HLELP"

said ".....maybe if i start crying"

ate the bad old taffy and made a disgusted face

finally figured out what to do with the card and went "HOOIUGH" out loud

just started stimming

yelled "YIPPEE!! YOU! DO YOU KNOW WHERE KEY IS? TO DO? I NEED TO LEAVE?" at six

said "DID SIX FUCKING JOIN MY PARTY???? ARE YOU A METAL DETECTOR???"

said "i walk out, small man in tow, i beeline over to the bathroom, i slam open the door"

just started sticking her hand in the toilets as N and six watched on in horror

offered N the half eaten taffy, he did not want it

said "... i will light the blunt for you if you join my party" to N

taken the blunt from N, took a fat rip and blew the smoke in N's face to see if that makes him join the party

had a coughing fit

told six to tell N that she's "friendly and trustworthy"

gotten a job at mandelatech

is now just wearing a gross wet lanyard she got out of the toilet

licked floor edibles

started unplugging sinks

turned to everyone else and said outloud "i SWEAR ive played video games before"

had a violent and visceral reaction to me saying wall was sticky and wet

said "that would make sense in this hellhole of a city"

bribed N with the floor edibles

considered sticking the pennies to the wall

sniffed the sticky wall

used the power of friendship to lift a shelf out of the way aka made dave, six and N help her lift it

found a secret evelin

said "girlie what the fuck" to evelin and left her alone

said "IGNORE THEM, LOOK AT ME IN MY EYES" when evelin was very concerned about the two fuckign alternates in the group

tried to bribe evelin with the three pennies unsuccessful

refused to look through daves email

gave up and looked through daves email

said "the cop.... is he in on this?"

made fun of thatchers emails to dave

started highfiving everyone when she made progress

aged like 50 years when the sticky wall mysteriously disappeared

started asking the group who has the highest pain tolerance

forgot that dave would not have a smartphone

realised if this was realistic she would be 7

started sprinting with the gaming laptop to give it to evelin to recruit her to the team

became hysterical at jonny appearing for two seconds

somehow got thatchers lighter out of the wall hole

started yelling into the wall holes

said "his emails might have been a clue but i wasnt paying attention cause all of them were sad and boring"

said "arson might be the answer"

started interrogating everyone

gotten mad at point and click logic

grabbed daves shoulder and shook him

started interrogating six again

tore out a vhs tape with her teeth

grabbed six and shoved him back into a tv

made a high pitched noise in response to the lights going off

started going all lord of the flies

walked into like 7 different shelves

escaped mandelatech and just kinda put everyone in evelins car, this includes N

#SOBS #IDK WHY THIS IS SO LONG #long post //

[crymeariveronceagain]

Okay, okay, I know you don't associate with the (albeit very toxic) bnha fandom, but I just desperately wanted to know about your thoughts on Denki?

Also hi ily sm for entertaining me and seriously if this is making you have the anxieties don't answer it

Love ya <333

aaayyy beloved!

happy to share my thoughts on Denki Kaminari(the loml)!!! I just don't tag my bnha stuff as anything other than bnha, because then they will never <3 find me <3 hah <3

anyways. Denki Kaminari:

Pop punk all the way. Sk8r boi see you later boy all the way. He's got a sense of style that's unrivaled. Ripped jeans, band tees, necklaces, earrings, Paramore, Fall Out Boy, Avril Lavigne, Panic! At the Disco. He wears converse and plays his music on the highest possible setting through his earbuds. He's black and white and pink and yellow, pastel blue and neon green, and of course, bright, bright, bright yellow.

Skateboards are the only thing he's coordinated with. Whenever he's got free time on weekends, he heads to the park near his house and skateboards. He's actually got a ton of non-school friends who go to the skate park regularly and they all just generally have a great time. If he wasn't going to be a pro-hero, he'd be a pro-skateboarder instead. His phone is full of shaky videos of him and his skater friends doing tricks. In the background, there's always half-ecstatic shrieking whenever one of them lands a trick.

He chews bubblegum and sticks it to the bottom of desks. Also, if a class doesn't have assigned seating, he's the kid who constantly moves around and disrupts the self-assigned seating of everyone else in the class. People get so annoyed about it, but Kaminari is never going to change.

The lightning bolt in his hair is natural. It just matches his entire aesthetic perfectly.

Super high pain tolerance naturally. Once, when Mina demanded that all her friends try that period pain simulator(because Mina's like that), Kaminari made it all the way to the second-worst pain level before having to stop. Bakugo, however, was out in two levels.

It gets worse after a ton of quirk usage. All that zapping really frazzles his nerves to the point where someone could punch him in the arm and he wouldn't feel it. It's a dangerous side effect to have brought on in battle, but it's just something he's gotta deal with.

That being said, he could get shot and not notice until after the battle's over and the adrenaline starts to wear off. He could keep a hand pressed over the wound because he still doesn't feel it. He could slowly start to feel it again, get woozy from pain and blood loss, and stagger forwards, only to collapse and have his friends crowd around him worriedly. Just a thought.

ADHD, Dyslexia, and Dysgraphia. Diagnosed. However, he thinks a pro-hero should be able to pass without accommodations. So my dude is struggling in class, and absolutely sucking, because of his pride and his internalized idea that he is somehow less diligent, less smart, and less worthy of his place in the class if he actually gets help with his diagnosed medical issues.

His parents really trust him to know how to take care of himself. They're good people, and they pretty much let him deal with his own life. They're always there if he needs them, but he's so determined to not need them, that he simply won't go to them. He's independent enough, the sixteen year old said to himself, who needs parents? Gotta have that "self-reliant to a fault" complex that all the 1-A kids have, right? Why get an adult if you can get trauma and pain and do it yourself!

He silently hates short-circuiting. That's it. He loathes it. He hates how he reacts. He hates how much of an idiot he seems. He hates how he can't think. It's like the numbness from earlier takes over his whole brain. It's nasty, and he hates it. But he laughs it off. Humor is an excellent coping mechanism, because if he can't laugh, he'll cry, and then everyone will know he's got feelings about it deep down, and nope! Pro-heroes can't have those! He's just gotta get better and stop short-circuiting.

Aizawa loves the kid. Aizawa loves all his kids. But Aizawa really appreciates what Kaminari can do, and appreciates the vibe he brings. Especially his positivity. Reminds Aizawa of Present Mic. The world definitely needs more Present Mics in it. Bubbly, confident, on-fire people, willing to speak their minds and brighten the lives of others? Aizawa loves to see it.

I have so many more thoughts on him... but like these are some of my main ones!! :DDD

#bnha #mha #kaminari denki #thanks for the ask! #headcanons #iris!!!

[mywheelieweirdlife]

Shout out to everyone else who has stupid digestive issues and every life change you do or don't make for it.

For me, 98% of changes I make feel worth it, but I know for others it's not.

But every time I spend a few days not at home on my very specific eating habits and schedules; I feel it and I hate it.

Normally people don't treat peanut butter and dates as a main part of their diet to the point where a jar of peanut butter going up in price is worthy of crying over bc it fucks the whole budget and you do in fact budget to buy both pitted dates and dried apricots in bulk.

Normal people don't treat yoghurt as a holy grail because your digestive system is so messed up that daily probiotics are also a life saver.

And peanut butter, Up&Go's and protein supplements worthy of the highest of fitness bros? Yeah; that's because I can't eat red meat regularly or meat regularly because my body refuses to tolerate it.

Do I take supplements like a vegan should because I have to eat vegetarian and eggs are expensive so I use cheese and milk as primary sources of calories? Yes yes I sometimes do when I can afford supplements; or more accurately I buy foods and juice with supplements... sometimes specifically made for elderly people who struggle with pills and food intake because I'm poor and that's the easiest way to do it. (And generally, they do taste good)

Do I live off coffee, dates, apricots, fibre supplements and slippery elm and lemon&honey tea because my body likes to refuse to digest food and I don't want to pay for or take laxative pills and the drinks are gross and expensive? Yes, unfortunately.

Do I also have to physically massage my entire digestive tract three times a day to physically move it because my muscles don't work? Unfortunately.

Does all of this lowkey scare me because I do want to get pregnant one day and I have no clue how that'll impact it? Yes, very much yes. Will be eating so much gentle high fiber food in the third trimester if I ever get pregnant knowing that's coming (not just because pregnancy... specifically for postpartum. If you know, you know).

Like do I feel incredibly sick and have for the last two days because of the changes while I was gone? Yes, it was awful.

Do I know have to fix my entire body because of it over the next two weeks? Yep, unfortunately. While having very little money to my name.

Did it once again highlight how much energy, effort and time my body steals from me? Yes, I spent a full hour and a bit on the toilet because of my stomach being a dick yesterday before therapy while my mother was out on a walk. And a good 30 tonight low key crying in pain which is fun.

I will also acknowledge that there's two sides of this:

I can spend the hours of planning and preparing and working with my body, acknowledging that it will never function normally but fuck I can try my best to live pain free.

Or...

I can do what I did while I stayed with others this weekend and pretend that I am fine and that food is not a problem... and pay for that in pain and constipation and bloating and all the other fun issues that come with my conditions.

And I personally choose change my lifestyle because I live with enough issues; but I have friends who choose 'normalcy' all the time not just for convenience on mother's day weekends.

But it's hard and it sucks and I can't get laid when I'm off my routine because it's too fucking painful. I have blood pressure spikes and drops when I'm off my routine. Hell; I never feel more dysphoric than when I'm off my routine because suddenly the pain reminds me of everything and I'm so tired my mental health drops like an avalanche on Mt Everest; fast, hard, all consuming and deadly.

And this is one part of my chronic illness management.

This is only 1 change.

It's not the nerve pain management, it's not the mental health management, it's not the connective tissue issues, the dislocations... anything else that impacts my life.

It's just the impacts my stomach and intestines have on my dietary requirements and the extra symptoms they add and exacerbate when I don't maintain a specific schedule for management that took years to learn and control and occasionally fluctuates.

Like I will never live a normal life and it's hard af but it's still mine and I want to live it.

But there's more than just me and we all deserve the recognition and acknowledgment for how much it takes and what fucking badasses we are for surviving such bullshit.

#disability #mine #chronic illness #disabled #chronic pain #fnd

[maccreadysbaby]

THE FOX AND THE HOUND™︎

fem!oc x kyle “gaz” garrick

in which a sardonic, cunning, freakishly independent irish girl with a dark past and questionable future finally finds someone that she doesn’t want to push away… and she’s absolutely horrified

parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

TW: light cursing

❝ A GHOST AND THE BOOGEYMAN ❞

Fort Bragg, NC, USA

12 Nov, 2022, 1300

— THE FIRST SENSE THAT VIXEN GOT BACK FROM HER EXTRAORDINARY NAP WAS HER HEARING. Specifically, hearing the voices of the people that seemed to be sitting around her like she was a zoo exhibit.

“You think she’ll be with us for training, or whining like a baby about that leg?” A voice came. This one had a British accent, much like the big man from earlier, but it was smoother and a bit nicer than his Manchester accent.

“She was repeatedly shoving a knife into her leg in the back of the car, so I’d say she has a pretty high pain tolerance,” Came the voice of the Scotsman.

A pair of footsteps drifted up from the left, an American accent making a quick appearance: “I think you’ve got a good one, sir. She sleeps like the dead. We didn’t even have to sedate her to patch up the wound, all we did was numb the area and she didn’t even twitch in her sleep.”

She heard some material rub against itself, probably someone shrugging. “Highest pain tolerance I’ve ever seen on a woman.” It was the scot again.

“I’m a bloody medic, I have to have a high pain tolerance or everyone else dies,” She deadpanned, peeling her amber eyes open to glance around the room. In front of her was the scot, who flinched when she spoke, a man in a little hat with a very strange mustache, and a man in scrubs — a doctor, she supposed. The room she was in was large and open, with a concrete floor and little stand-up curtains separating several hospital beds from one another.

“How long have you been listening?” The scot asked.

Vixen shrugged, scooting herself back so she’d sit up more. “I don’t know, probably since the whole repeatedly shanking myself in the leg part.”

He nodded to himself, eyes flicking down to the floor with slight embarrassment. She smirked to herself.

“Soap, you can go. I need to get Vixen’s briefing over with,” The man with the mustache ordered. That must’ve been Price, she assumed. But something else, however, stuck out.

“Your name is Soap?” She asked, light eyebrows knitting together. “Like… a bar of soap?”

“Yours is a fox,” He defended, crossing his arms. His blue eyes were shining with amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly.

She snickered. “Vixen are cunning, and it’s another word for a sexy woman. What are bars of soap?… Slippery when wet…? Always on the floor of the shower…?”

Soap blinked, his ears turning bright pink, and Price seemed to notice, because he ordered for the second time: “Soap, you’re dismissed. Get the others into the commons for the introduction.”

He turned and left without another word, leaving Vixen to revel in her success of embarrassing him. Price drifted over to the left side of her bed.

“I think it’d be beneficial for everyone in the one-four-one if you didn’t treat my men like that,”

Vixen creased her brow. “Like what?”

“Making crude jokes just so see what elicits the funniest reaction,” He replied. Vixen snorted, crossing her arms.

“This is the military. We breathe crude jokes and funny reactions, Price. You are Price, right?”

“It’s captain to you,” He ordered, cold blue eyes staying stone hard on her face. She sucked in a deep breath, and sighed after a moment of silence. Obviously, Price wasn’t going to be very fond of her just like her previous commanding officer hadn’t been. She had to admit, though, she’d be pretty pissed, too, if a brand new general struck a deal with another and got a little irish arse thrown onto her team of hardcore professionals.

“Captain,” She corrected with a huff. He stayed silent for a moment, brushing his hand over his mustache like he was contemplating his next words.

“Can you walk?” He asked.

“Am I a toddler?” Vixen shot back before she could think any better of it. She decided not to back down, not to shrink back and show weakness in front of her new captain, so she just stared straight into his gray-blue eyes. He didn’t look amused in the slightest. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, obviously keeping himself from saying something.

“Then get up and come on. We have introductions to do,” He ordered, turning away from her and starting toward the exit door.

Vixen obeyed, flipping the itchy cotton blanket off of her. She was still in her clothes from earlier, but the entire right leg of her pants had been cut off. She looked stupid.

“You got any full pants, Cap?” She questioned, standing up on the concrete floor. Her boots were still on and she was sure this was the dumbest she’d ever looked in her life. Not to mention the burning pain that rippled up and down her leg when she stood, making her lean to the side a bit. Price turned and glared at her, so she added a quick: “-tain,” before he could ridicule her again for not calling him captain.

“Come on,” He ordered. Vixen sucked in a breath and followed his steps, praying they wouldn’t pass anybody important in the hallway. And that he wasn’t taking her to introductions wearing that.

“Stay here,” He stated, disappearing into a metal door on the left. She clasped her hands together in front of her, rocking from toe-to-heel in her half pants and tall boots get up. At least she still had on a whole shirt. A black turtleneck, in fact. At that current moment, it seemed to have more fabric than her ARW certified cargo pants.

Price re-emerged a moment later, pushing a pair of camo pants and belt into her hands. “Go in and change.”

She nodded, entering the metal door and closing it behind her. Inside was a small, sterile locker-room that smelled like men. The walls were lined with gray lockers, that matched the gray floor, gray walls, and gray ceiling. There was one tiny sink in the corner with a little mirror above it.

Sighing, she quickly shed her ruined pants and slid the new ones on. They were way too long at the ankle, and extremely loose on her waist, but the belt and a lot of cuffing made them presentable. She tucked in her turtleneck and re-laced her boots. She didn’t waste a second glancing into the teeny mirror see what was up with her hair.

She had a nicely purpling bruise on the left side of her face, running from her forehead, down her temple and around her eye. Her lip was visibly busted even though the blood had been cleaned off. There were a couple butterfly stitches on her right temple, holding together a cut she didn’t even know was there. The platinum hair that stopped just above her shoulders was stained red near her face, and even though it was faded like someone tried to clean it, it was still noticeably pink. Not to mention that it was horribly frizzy. Being tortured for information didn’t do much for the curls, she guessed. She ran her fingers through it a couple of times before heading back into the hallway.

He scanned her skeptically when she reappeared. “You make those pants work?”

She nodded. “For now.”

“Come on,” He suddenly urged, continuing up the bare hall like a man on a mission. They passed several closed doors, offices, and some bathrooms before he turned into a room that had no door. A commons room.

Vixen quietly hoped the rest of her team wasn’t like Price. She had high hopes for Soap — seeing as he seemed somewhat alright with her constant sarcasm — but as for the rest, she didn’t know. She just hoped they weren’t like Price, who, apparently, couldn’t take a joke. Or maybe he was just pissed at her throwing off the team dynamic and he’d be fine with it later. She hoped that was it, because she definitely wasn’t turning it off anytime soon.

“I’m not a babysitter, okay, kid? You’d better live up to the reputation the ARW gave you,” Price ordered as they walked through the entrance of the commons room. She scowled. Sure, she was twenty-four, but kid was a little unnecessary. She did quietly wonder what the ARW had told them about her, though.

As she entered the room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted her nostrils like a whiff of an actual dream. The room was large — a small metal dining table lined with chairs, a few couches, a tv, and a small kitchen in the back corner with a coffee pot that was spluttering as it brewed a fresh batch of fuel.

Standing beside the coffee pot, all posted up against the counter, was Soap. His combat attire had been completely exiled, a t-shirt and jeans taking their place. His icy eyes landed on her as soon as she walked in. His military-mandatory dog tags that sat around his neck glinted as they swayed back and forth, grabbing her attention. Would she be getting dog tags? She never wore them with the ARW unless she was going overseas.

She moved to the next figure in the room, the big man, who was standing against the wall straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed over one another. He’d abandoned his skull mask and was now wearing a full balaclava, black paint obvious around his cold eyes. He was in the exact same outfit he was wearing when she’d first met him, complete with his tactical vest and belt. She couldn’t see much of his face, but she could tell he didn’t care much to meet her. Dude was even massive-er now that she was getting a good look at him. He had to have been, like, six-four. That was more than a foot taller than her.

The next guy in the room was sitting at the metal table, arms crossed and dark eyes resting on her and Price. He had dark skin, and a buzzcut peeking out from under the British-flag baseball cap that sat on his head. He was dressed like Soap — jeans and a t-shirt — eyes raking across her frame, trying to take in his new team member.

The fourth and final figure that had been waiting in the room, Vixen didn’t notice at first. Mostly because he was sitting in a chair in the corner like he was in time-out. She only spotted him a few seconds later because his pitch-black get up stood out against the gray walls. He was sitting and was almost as tall as her, he had to be a freaking mountain when he stood up. He still had his vest on, much like the other big man, and he had a sniper’s hood over his face, only revealing his icy eyes that seemed distant like the big man’s. She had a lot of jokes, but she swallowed them down because he looked like the boogeyman and she didn’t really feel like pissing him off on her first day. Maybe later.

“Vixen, this is your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz,” Price explained, gesturing to each man as he spoke. “And this is König, an operator from the military contractor KorTac that we’re going to be working closely with for a while. The rest of the men in his unit are around here somewhere, but he’s the only one I could get ahold of that agreed to help with… you.”

Vixen nodded slightly, glancing at König as he rose from the chair he was in. Every single snarky comment that had been brewing in her head dissolved into nothing the moment she realized he could probably touch the ceiling without getting on his toes. He was a good four or five inches taller than Ghost and, frankly, could snap her into pieces and use her as a footrest if he wanted to.

“Guys, this is Vixen, the transfer from the ARW,” Price continued, shifting his attention back to her. “You’re going to attend a few training sessions tomorrow with each member of the team so we can assess your skill levels. Ghost will take you on firearms. You might be labeled a sniper, but you aren’t one on our team unless he says you’re one. You’ll be going over some simple strategy and recon simulations with Gaz. Soap is going to test your ability to survive in situations where you have no weapons, stealth, and so on — should you ever be in one — and König is going to feel out your hand to hand skills.”

What Vixen really wanted to say was oh hell no he wasn’t. König was a living, breathing tank, and she was not about to let her five-foot-two, one-hundred-and-four pound self be pinned by him. Despite every argument that came to mind, though, she just ended up muttering: “Alright, Captain.”

“You’ll be joining Dr. Bowman and I to get an assessment on your status as a field medic. You don’t pass, you can kiss that title goodbye. My team isn’t going to have a medic unless they know field medicine cover to cover,” He continued. Vixen grumbled: “Yes, Captain.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “Good luck, kid. Welcome to the one-four-one.” He patted her shoulder and turned, leaving her in the kitchen with all three of her newfound teammates and König, the boogeyman.

She sucked in a breath, quickly realizing all four of them had they eyes trained on her. Never before, had Vixen, of all people, felt the slightest bit uncomfortable under the gaze of a group of men. But now, with these particular men, she felt like she was being dissected.

To break the silence, she snickered. “A ghost and the boogeyman. What’s next, the phantom of the opera?”

— ☘︎ —

#mb; the fox and the hound #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #john price #captain price #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x oc #kyle garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig #könig cod #task force 141 #tf141 #the one four one

[shoyoackerman]

fate brought me to your mini College Student Keiji hc and I never knew I needed this side of keiji. I never simped for him or payed him lots of attention (the stupidity, I know this now), but I love how you wrote him in timeskip!! I wanted to know if you could do more college!keiji hcs in the future. Actually I’ll ask properly-when you have time and a chance, can you please do more college!keiji hcs that elaborate more into his daily life and shenanigans? (maybe why he decided to get those hot piercings too?) SORRY FOR BEING SPECIFIC, I just loved the writing! It’s nice seeing him with more to him than just the books and dark academia vibe!

thank youuuu I’m so glad you liked it!! I’m definitely gonna be doing more college hcs for other Haikyuu characters so if you’d like to request for more, you’re more than welcome! I hope you like this one

college!keiji hcs

| Keiji is not proud to admit, but he can’t count on both hands how many times he has been close to being arrested by the police. He would like to say that his friends are to blame, but really he is just as much to blame. (The Taco Friday incident both highly iconic and banned from discussions)

| Avid ice eater. He gets shit from Tetsurou and Shoyo who both like to make fun of him by gifting him a bag of ice for his birthday — jokes on them, he finishes it by the end of the week — He just likes the numbing feeling of eating the ice and likes the way it tastes. (Is a water elitist and won’t drink certain brands of water)

| Keiji takes Art, Law and the study of Classics. The last two are heavy content, and definitely stresses him out when he gets too caught up in his brain. Thankfully he has great friends who will drag him from his dorm (they have once physically tied him up in tape) and help clear his mind.

| One of the many ways is by smoking a little green. When Keiji was first offered he completely panicked and was thinking of all the ways he was going to jail and how his life would be ruined and would be forced to sell his body behind a 7/11 for slushie.

| He now is one of the most prominent stoners in the group, second to Shoyo and Satori. Weed helps calm him down, stops the overthinking and lets him have the best sleep ever. It also is when he is coerced (not really because he usually starts the drama) into participating in the dumbest of shit. He likes to complain but secretly he loves it.

| He still overthinks and some days are worse than others. Thinks that his friends don’t really like him, that they’re only pitying him. Thinks that everyone will still see him as boring, plain Keiji. Fears one day he’ll wake up back in high school and all his progress will be wiped away.

| Of course those fears are wiped away when Kotaro comes running into his room and physically lifts him from his bed because it’s movie night and they were watching the princess and the frog and he needs to hug Keiji when Dr. Facilier shows up.

| Keijis tattoos and piercings mean a lot to him. They were the first step of his new persona and he was both scared but excited. He was questioned a lot by everyone. His friends were all concerned but they stopped the questions and were supportive when they saw how mesmerised and happy Keiji was.

| Mans has the highest pain tolerance. Breezes through every tattoo and piercings. Has the audacity to say ‘oh that didn’t hurt as much as I thought’ when getting a tattoo on his ribcage.

| CRYSTAL BOY KEIJI. Has tarot cards all over his dorm room and his crystals are everywhere. Open the kitchen cupboard for a cup, you’ll find an Amethyst there instead. In the bathroom looking to wash your hands, you mistake the soap for rose quartz. His crystals are the equivalent of his children. Kotaro and Yuji were playing around with one of his crystals, dropped them and watched as their life flashed before their eyes.

| Nobody talks about May 13th. Dubbed as the reckoning of Keiji Akaashi.

| ASTROLOGY BOY KEIJI. Our favourite Sagittarius. (has his sign tattooed behind his ear) ABSOLUTELY will bring up people's signs as to why they're being bitchy that day. Has multiple astrology apps on his phone that he will pull out during an argument. If he feels like being petty he will outright say ‘you're a Virgo? We can’t be friends’ Sends everyone their horoscopes for the day.

| Likes to roleplay warrior cats with Kenma. Shoyo and Takanobu walked in on the two of them on their hands and knees hissing at each other with cat ears and tail. Immediate trauma and needed to be consoled when they were attacked by the two of them.

| Coffee addict? No. Energy drink addict? Absolutely fucking yes. Has an actual wall of energy drinks in his room. Is extremely proud of himself. Is in competition with Shoyo, Kenma and Satori over who has more energy drinks. (Nobody drives with Satori purely for the fact has backseat has been overtaken by empty cans)

| Has scared little children with his tattoos and piercings.

| Keiji, Shoyo and Kenma are a triple threat when they’re all dressed up. Pulls the most bitches out of everyone in the group. Much to their friends' disbelief because they’re also the biggest gremlins ever.

| Bleached his eyebrows and dyed them purple. Was dared to whilst high. Tetsurou dared him. In return for no reason at all Kotaro dyed his ass in support. Nobody dared him and nobody knows why they encouraged his behaviour.

| Nobody would expect it, but whenever he studies Keiji likes to listen to phonk. He can’t explain it but it helps him study better. Everyone get the surprise of their life when he was handed the aux cord.

+ BONUS

When Keiji got his first tattoo his parents didn’t talk to him for four months. Ignored his presence and acted like they didn’t have a child in the first place. Their reactions had made Keiji regret what he did and he was almost tempted to get a tattoo removal appointment. But his friends had been there to talk with him, to help him understand that he had no reason to change who he was becoming. That it wasn’t his problem but his parents who needed to understand and learn. That he was not the problem.

Overtime Keiji grew comfortable into his own skin, slowly coming out of the box that he had been confined in.

His parents slowly became more accepting and understanding. They understood that they were at fault when the three of them sat down and talked. There are still some difficulties that they are yet to sort through but Keiji can see the change in his parents.

His tattoos are his safe place and one of his ways of self-expression. No distinct style but Keiji loves that, his body is a chaotic mess of ink to anyone who doesn’t know him. But each tattoo, no matter how obtuse, has a special meaning and memory.

(He has eight tattoos along his left arm. Small chibi animals that represent his friends. When they saw it, they all burst into tears)

+ BONUS PT.2

| Keiji Akaashi Playlist (he religiously plays this 24/7)

+ BONUS PT.3

| Keiji has three styles. (Plus when he’s a gremlin in a dirty hoodie and sweats)

#haikyuu #haikyuu college au #keiji akaashi #shoyo hinata #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #kotaro bokuto #takanobu aone #yuji terushima #suna rintaro #tendo satori #my loves #numba ones FR #chaotic gays #haikyuu 2022 #haikyuu au #haikyuu headcanons #shoyoackerman

[velaralilas]

dead by daylight's issues

i just watched SpookyLoopz's most recent video about how he feels currently with the shift of content in DBD, and he made some very valid points. i reccomend watching it before reading on.

tl;dr- he says that the two newest killers, The Knight and The Skull Merchant, are boring to play against and play as and that DBD is becoming stale.

i very much agree with this. i, myself, am a content creator (i stream on twitch- and am currently planning my revival after a two month long hiatus) and DBD is one of the main games i play. now, i didn't fully get into DBD until May/June 2022, roughly when The Dredge came out and the game was celebrating its 6th anniversary. I am still a baby at 300ish hours of playtime. even within the limited time i have interacted with the community, as well as playing the game and learning the ropes, there has been a serious shift in the culture surrounding the game. from metas to the camping/tunneling problem, these problems seem to have no end.

The community is going to be the thing that kills Dead by Daylight within the next year or so- i feel. im going to outline the main things that i see when playing myself.

playing survivor

while playing as a survivor (my main game mode), the tunneling and camping is horrendous- especially for persons like me who have TTV or YT in their username. there have been countless times where i was pushed out of a game because i am a streamer, or because other creators are in a lobby with me, they assume i am a part of a swf (survive with friends). ive also had killers that hold myself and my friends hostage since they assume we're streaming- not becuase we're creators, but becuase they think we are actively streaming in that moment.

another thing i see often is fellow survivors disconnecting seemingly randomly. now, i, myself, am guilty of disconnecting from a match- everyone has their moments- but the type im talking about is when they see a killer they dont like (im excluding The Plague and The Clown from this becuase emetophobia and colourophbia is real), if the killer brings a mori, or if they feel like they're losing after getting downed. i have played with someone who is toxic like this and it is insufferable because this puts you at such a disadvantage later in the game. stop abandoning teammates just because The Legion brought a mori. Killing yourself on hook to get out a game is still bad- dont get me wrong- but at least its more tolerable than straight up leaving.

the survivor meta is purely influenced by whatever the current killer meta is. dont ask me what is considered 'the meta' i dont know and dont care. i think you should run perks that suit your playstyle, not to be one with the crowd. if you wanna sneak around, be a gen jockey, get chased all game, make builds that will help you! coordinate with the friends that youre playing with! this makes the game so much more fun that using a build you saw a big time content creator use.

playing killer

oh boy, here we go.

to start off, i am a Sadako (The Onryo) and a Freddy (The Nightmare) main. Sadako is my number one best girl.

playing the killer is so stale and unbearable. from bully squads to toxic survivors its so much worse than it used to be. the highest rank i got to when i was playing everyday for 6-8 hours a day was Gold 2 (? i just remember being in gold) and it was amazing back then. nowadays people are bringing gen rushing builds and want to get in and out of games as soon as possible. dont even get me started on the end game shit talking people will do if you do bad as a prestige 12 killer.

the current killer meta, from my understanding (again i dont care about the meta), is generator regression and aura reading. i see a lot of pain res/dead mans switch (pain res blows up a generator and forces you off of it, when someone is hooked on the scourge hook, and dead mans blocks it for a short time- for those who are unfamiliar), call of brine/overcharge/pop goes the weasel/eruption being used interchangibly. its all about regressing gens from getting done. wheres the spice? how about tracking perks or chase perks? on Sadako i use a lot of aura reading because its useful with her power, same with Freddy. i never see killers using perks that work well with the killers power.

speaking of powers, lets talk about the two latest killers, The Knight and The Skull Merchant. they suck ass! the knight allows you to camp hooks without needing to be there, and the merchant can track you on the map with drones. these are doing very little to solve the tunneling/camping issue the game has. they are also really boring. their powers are meh, their chase music is meh, and the skull merchant doesnt even have a new map, just a refurbished shelter woods, tell me how thats fair.

final remarks

we as a community need to do better. need to be better. stop with the toxicity, the cheating, everything. i understand that this really isnt possible, people will still find exploits and play competitively, but there is a way to go about it that doesnt make you a piece of shit.

we cannot expect the devs to give us anything good if we buy up bullshit like the latest DLC. the only way to truly fix the tunneling, camping, and toxic players is to change as a community, to make the game fun again. the group that takes everything seriously and competitively is going to keep destroying the culture around this game until is so unberable that people who just want to have the slightest bit of fun go somewhere else.

i love Dead by Daylight. i really do. i've made some amazing friends and made a start to streaming with it. however i feel that if we dont change as a whole, its going to continue to grow staler and staler until its cold and barren.

#dead by daylight #essay #hopefully this makes sense #its like 2am and im half asleep writing this #but it had to be said #thank you for coming to my ted talk

[stellaregina]

i have a more elaborate headcanon about what lumine is in the works, but until that's finished, have this kind of short vague explanation:

lumine is from a species of beings created from the remnants of stars, whether it be material left behind after a star is created or what's left behind after a star dies. when one of her kind "dies", it's equally as likely for their remains to make up a new star or even an entirely new being, similar to reincarnation. of course, if i interact with aether writers, this doesn't have to apply to your muse <3

( the name of said species is the atoileste, but it really isn't all that important. for the sake of simplicity, she'll just call herself a sentient star and go from there )

seeing as they're, you know, cosmic entities, the forms they take are completely incomprehensible to most mortals. because of this, they'll usually temporarily reform themselves into more humanoid or generally acceptable forms, occasionally even copying other appearances entirely.

( the form lumine takes now isn't even her own; it's just one she copied ages ago and decided to default to when around humans )

due to the way she was made and the uneven ratio of energy & material used to create her, lumine is part of the highest tier of their society. thanks to the abilities formed from said imbalance, she was automatically assigned the role of an archivist.

her only job was to travel across different worlds and make sure universal history remains as accurate as possible, which meant she wasn't supposed to get involved with anything or anyone from other worlds she visited. hence why when chaos broke out 500 years ago, the immediate response was to leave. she wasn't supposed to be involved, and simply being nearby could have had an influence on the events that played out.

obviously she wasn’t allowed to leave, aether went missing, her powers were sealed, she was trapped in 500 years of nightmares, etc etc, and then genshin's main events kick off.

also, misc. headcanons below:

when she still had all of her abilities, she was incredibly powerful at the cost of burning more energy and ended up taking hits a little harder. since that energy is now being forcibly sealed away, she's not as physically strong as she used to be, but it's built up inside her for so long that now she can take more damage than she used to be able to. there's a reason she can be perfectly fine after being thrown through several floors and into mountains, it's because of this.

like i said here, lumine hates getting roped into things if she doesn't offer to do something herself. the reason for that isn't even just because she didn't want to be savior in the first place, it's because it was ingrained in her for several eons that she was to observe, not intervene. her ONLY job was to record a world's events up until it ended, then report back.

not to mention that she started off completely detached from the people there, and that made it easy to do what she had to do and then leave. the longer she spent among people and the closer she grew to them, the more human she felt and the less she actually wanted to leave. now, it's a problem, because there's several people she can't see herself without anymore, and that will make leaving all the more painful.

she made an exception to the "observe, don't intervene" rule way back in mondstadt because she only wanted to find aether and it was basically necessary. in liyue, she still made an exception, though she made it very clear she really didn't like playing the role of an errand girl. by the time inazuma rolled around, she went from begrudgingly making exceptions to expecting something useful in return for doing everyone's chores, and getting roped into a war just to leave with almost zero information only made things worse. luckily, nahida was the first useful archon in her entire journey, so it made most of the hassle tolerable. despite that minor relief... she really isn't looking forward to fontaine whatsoever.

#( headcanons. ) #me: i'll keep this short :) #me: *does not‚ in fact‚ keep this short*

[longroadhcme]

🍷💋✨😡😢💕 (Rose and Lucien)

          SEND  🍷  FOR  A  DRUNK  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 03:32AM ] : my tolerance is shots to hell now

[ ROSE : 03:33AM ] : HAHAHAHA, SHOTS, get it?

[ ROSE : 03:59AM ] : i think i’m drunsk, come fimd me

[ ROSE : 04:01AM ] : i still hate you thoiugh

          SEND  💋  FOR  A  FLIRTY  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 19:28PM ] : look, you’re an entitled asshole to the highest degree

[ ROSE : 19:29PM ] : and nine times out of ten, i just want to punch you

[ ROSE : 19:29PM ] : but you’re lucky you’re pretty

[ ROSE : 19:30PM ] : can’t ruin that jawline, after all (even if you’ll heal)

          SEND  ✨  FOR  A  RANDOM  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 12:03PM ] : i have no idea why i’m texting you of all people?

[ ROSE : 12:04PM] : but i’m bored, and i need a drink. interested or not?

          SEND  😡  FOR  AN  ANGRY  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 23:19PM ] : what the fuck is wrong with you?

[ ROSE : 23:19PM ] : just when i think you have some semblance of a redeeming quality. you pull something like this? thanks for proving me right in the first place.

[ ROSE : 23:20PM ] : stay the hell away from me.

          SEND  😢  FOR  A  SAD  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 00:04AM ] : it’s the anniversary of trevor’s death today. i thought emotions were just this heightened when you were a vampire? why do i still feel like it only just happened, and i’m alone in the world? i have nobody to go to about this, that won’t just tell me to embrace it, and overcome it naturally. clearly that’s not working for me. i’ve been sat in this god forsaken bar for bloody hours now, and the alcohol is barely helping. so, i need you to do something for me...

[ ROSE : 00:08AM ] : do you think compulsion works on whitelighters? that’s everyone’s answer to pain lately, right? might just take a page out of that book.

          SEND  💕  FOR  A  LOVING  TEXT  FROM  MY  MUSE

[ ROSE : 18:47PM ] : if anyone asks, i’ll deny it to the ends of the earth. and i’ll delete this text once i know you’ve read it

[ ROSE : 18:48PM ] : but you’re not the worst company in the world, lucien. maybe, perhaps, there’s even a chance i could one day consider you a friend. MAYBE.

[ ROSE : 18:48PM ] :  maybe i’ll even let you buy me a drink.

[ ROSE : 18:49PM ] : i think there’s more to you than the diabolical type. so, how about you try and show others the same?

featuring ; @ofkingmakers.

#answered. #answered : rose-marie ortega. #answered : rose-marie ortega & lucien castle.

[nickgerlich]

Unhappy Hour

Price increases are one of the most painful things we consumers endure, and we sure have had to endure a lot of them the last couple of years. We have had sticker shock at the grocery, and in other cases, realized it wasn’t our imagination that while the shelf price did not go up, the package had shrunk.

No matter what, it sucks, because wages and salaries always lag inflationary pressures on price. But when the price increase looks more like a tax on good times, then it hurts even more. Like with what is happening at about 800 pubs in the UK. Stonegate, a giant among pub owners, has about 4500 different pubs under its corporate umbrella, and under several operating names. Now comes word it is going to implement surge pricing on beer during peak hours at selected pubs.

And people are crying in their last cheap pint of it.

Surge pricing, which also goes by the name of peak pricing or dynamic pricing, is the concept of raising prices when demand is highest. And Stonegate wants to add on 20 pence (or about $0.25US) per pint at busy times, like at its Slug & Lettuce chain. It may not seem like much, but I have seen London pubgoers having a good time before. It could easily add $1-$2 per bar tab.

Prices will remain as-is during the off-hours, so perhaps people will be encouraged to engage in day drinking and other such off-peak hours. As for the folks who want to drink when everyone else is (and through no fault of their own, thanks to work/life schedules), it feels like they have been sucker-punched.

Now before you throw the baby out with the beer water, consider that we have been confronted with surge pricing here in the States for years. It’s just that the sellers don’t package it as baldly as Stonegate is doing. Ever noticed how a matinee theatre ticket is much cheaper than, say, a Friday night ticket? Or how airline tickets and hotel stays are more expensive on weekends, but cheaper other days?

Yup. Take, for example, my recent visit to Northern New Mexico. On Thursday night, my room at the Hotel Don Fernando de Taos was only $110. For Friday and Saturday nights, it was roughly double. And pity anyone who wants to fly somewhere on a Friday and return on Sunday.

But then there was the case of AMC Theatres who, earlier this year, started charging more for prime seats. That landed with a thud, and they nixed the plan. You know. Just when people are starting to return to the theatre, raise the prices on the good seats. Nope, nope, nope. It’s a theatre, not an arena. They are all good seats, except for the first two rows.

I have also seen petrol stations in Germany use dynamic pricing, with higher prices at the morning commute time, as well as the return in afternoon. During the day, prices are lower. Unless you are unemployed, retired, or working midnight shift, you will never get your fuel cheaper (and right now it’s running about $7.48US per gallon). Still, the Germans tolerate it, my friends tell me.

Stonegate could have executed this better, because they are coming out looking like the bad guy. Consider the global naysaying and commenting. Sure, they offered a lot of pithy excuses and rationalizations, like it will allow them to have more staff on hand during those peak hours, blah blah blah. But a price increase is a price increase, and this sounds like a penalty right at the time of day you want to be chilling.

I suspect that Stonegate will only tolerate the negative fallout for so long, and will have to walk it back. I don’t buy the surcharge as enabling them to have more workers. That should be a given, and paid for by the added sales that were already in place because of the peak. Please don’t push the burden of paying even more staffers on the backs of your most loyal customers.

Just raise prices across the board 10 pence and call it good. That will probably be a few pence below the JND, or Just Noticeable Difference. That’s how you raise prices. Small bumps go unnoticed or are just not worrisome. But a big one always is.

Surge pricing is a fact of life. I get it. Just don’t make it a hard pill to swallow. Because if my favorite rehydration station—Pondaseta Brewing in Amarillo—were to do something like what Stonegate is doing, I’d just stay home.

Dr “No Taxation Without Representation” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #UK #surge pricing #Stonegate #beer

[guacamoleroll]

𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 「𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

content. gn!reader. hurt/comfort, major character injury, angst with a happy ending, comas, alcohol, implied/referenced self-harm, cuddling, kisses, comfort, post-vampire outbreak. not proofread. 1.9k+ words.

author's note. i'm back much sooner than i expected! moving into uni has been absolutely kicking my ass, but the love and support that i've received from you all has made my day! updates will be infrequent, but please feel free to submit asks (at the time of posting). i'd love to have an influx of ideas (though i'm currently prioritizing the original requests in my inbox, and i'm in a particular hurt/comfort and protective mood). this is one of the few times i won't have a limit on requests in my inbox, so go bananas (but not too bananas).

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. you haven't lost him yet. it had come so close, but life continued to cling to him. some time may be needed to heal the wounds that come with a dance with death, but as long as you are with him, you don't mind so much.

Everything was over. No more vampires. No more One Order.

The Decay of Angels had been defeated. Kamui had been defeated.

With the combined resolve of the Armed Detective Agency members and the surplus of determination from valiant citizens prepared to throw caution to the window and place their lives on the line for a chance to liberate their world, the extinction of humanity had been prevented. It had been a backbreaking hellscape of pain and suffering, but it had been accomplished. And with that, the ADA had been upheld within both public and private circles with the highest regard, both due to admiration for their contributions to the crisis but also out of shame because of the global assumption that they were terrorists. 

You were hunkered down by a 5th-story window overlooking the citizens of Yokohama as they overtook the streets, celebrating. Some clutched onto each other tight, weeping about the lives that were lost in the massacre. Others practically screamed once they saw each other, singing their praises to the heavens above. Shrieks of pure relief trumpeted throughout the street as people reunited with their missing loved ones, cries of mirth echoed from opened windows, and a faint jumble of different radios blended into the background to complete the scene.

“This is all thanks to you, my love,” you whispered, though you couldn’t muster the heart to turn around. You wouldn’t even join the celebrations; you didn’t have the strength for it. Not now. You couldn’t even manage a meager smile for more than a few minutes, despite your incessant attempts to appease the concerns of both your fellow co-workers and your boss. They would visit from time to time, some in pairs and some alone.

Atsushi and Kyoka always visited together, bringing with them bowls upon bowls of steaming chazuke and stuffed animals that felt like clouds drifting upon the ground. It was one of the few moments when you had cracked an authentic smile—because, at the end of the day, they were only two innocent kids. Despite the trauma and terror they had faced and the lessons they had learned, they didn't know what to do in this situation. But the endearing sight of them covering the room with cheap, dollar-store flowers brightened your day, even if only by a bit.

The Tanizaki siblings also visited together, which possibly broke your sanity even further. They brought along the usual distractions that came with their peculiar relationship, effectively fracturing the monotony of the day with antics that made you more than a little squeamish. While you appreciated, or more like tolerated, their efforts to reprieve you from your perpetual worries, you would've rather sat in your silence. 

Kunikida was the one who visited the most out of everyone, on the same days and at the same time. He ensured that you had properly taken care of yourself—which you hadn't—and that you had eaten a proper meal—which you rarely did. Doctors and nurses were startled by the yells that boomed from inside the room, but you knew better than to be mad. He may be a harsh and stubborn man, but you knew that deep down, he was only concerned.

Yosano snuck booze into the room whenever she swung by, though a drinking session was always followed by a roulette of genuine advice. You would have a couple of drinks—though Yosano would never have more than a couple of sips—before opening up about your concerns and disquietudes. Then, she would spend the next hour or two carefully picking each one apart with logic, an arm wrapped across your shoulder to reassure you that everything would be alright.

Fukuzawa always walked in without you noticing, though the smell of tea and the pawing of a cat against the fabric of your pants always clued you in—you had no idea how he managed to sneak the cat in. The cat remained stretched across your lap, nuzzling into your arms and encouraging you to pet him as he purred. Tea was always sweet and delicious, a stark contrast from the darker brews that he made at the office. And he always peered down at you with a sympathetic frown, parting with a gentle 'call me if you need anything' and a squeeze to your shoulder.

And then there was Ranpo. His visits were much more irregular compared to your other co-workers, which was in character for the famous detective. However, they always had a trend to them. Most of the time, he would be his usual, obnoxious self, groaning over a new case that he had picked up or complaining about an irritant that occurred post-vampirism outbreak. But in rare moments, he only sat across the room from you, completely quiet. Those were during the nights that you trembled despite wearing thick sweaters and being wrapped in woolen blankets. He always visited during those long hours between dusk and dawn, in spite of the 'no visitors' policy.

He knew that you didn't need to be alone.

But you only continued to gaze out the window, longingly admiring the birds that had remained perched on the roof of the building across from you, doves endlessly preening their feathers—symbols of peace, paradoxically existing in the same space as your disordered mind. You honed in on those luscious white feathers despite the strain of your eyes, your soul desperate to escape your body, and ran from the slow, labored breaths of the bandaged man unconcious on the hospital bed.

The stupid, idiotic man.

The apocalypse had been the closest he had ever danced with death, entangled in a tango with a rhythm he had become very accustomed to—they told you that he had a smile on his face when he was found, battered a beaten, embracing his fate with the same playful expression he had greeted every passing moment with. You barely held back the impulse to smack the stupid grin off his face, only restrained by the way your fingers wavered against his scratched skin, laden with bruises that blossomed beneath previously scarred flesh.

It made you ponder the same question that had been spiraling in your mind, like a dust ball, constantly pushed into a corner until it needed to be cleaned. Did he really want to die so badly and escape from this world—even if it meant leaving you behind? Would he watch from beyond the grave as you wept, sorrow imbued in your bones as your soul rotted alongside his corpse? Did he expect you to learn a lesson like the one he had learned from his old friend?

Such bullshit.

His cold fingers slipped into yours with practiced ease, muffling the sobs that escaped your lips as you hid your face in the back of his limp hand—you weren't close enough; nothing would ever feel close enough. You wouldn't be able to protect him, to save him from himself. He was such a brilliant man, his mind swathed in mystery and impenetrability, only making you fall deeper with such a magnetic pull. It didn't matter that you could never dream of understanding him. But his mind also fought against him, like a parasite devouring its host, trapping him inside with no chance of escape. He remained a wanderer within the despondency of life, monochromatic shades impairing his vision as he continued to roam without a purpose. But you had thought, foolishly so, for those spare tranquil moments, that he had a purpose in you. In your love. But perhaps, you were wro—

"A-Are you an angel?" a voice croaked, and you momentarily lost your ability to breathe. 

You blinked back the tears that blurred your vision and debilitated your sight, desperate to make out the image of that same brainless man, the very one that had been in a coma in that damned bed for weeks. He removed the ventilator mask with a huff, a pair of tired, darkened brown eyes peeking between curls of puffed-up bangs that needed to be trimmed badly.

He smirked, that familiar, playful upturn of his lips marking his cheeks, life returning with a flush to his pallid skin. "I guess that I must be in heaven if my angel is here—" He inhaled sharply as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight and burying your face into his neck to breathe in everything that was so him . His coltish expression softened, a knowing gleam in his eyes as he leaned into your embrace with a coo. "Oh, baby."

The remnants of his cologne had been washed away by the redolence of hospital soaps and the stench of gruesome death. But he was here—he was alive, and that was enough. The edges of his hair brushed against your face, tresses bouncing and tickling your skin as he pulled you taut to him. His lips trailed the exposed parts of your neck, a hint of vehemence in each mark. 

And he trembled, a hand cupping your back as it traveled into your shirt to trace the bare skin. He missed this. The way your warmth and softness felt against his calloused fingers and how you would shudder from the chill. The way you pinned your hair off your neck when you had been wrecked with exhaustion and the tiny baby hairs that fell to frame your face. The way your brows shifted to reveal exactly what you were feeling and how they always relaxed whenever you looked at him. And those eyes, those incandescent eyes that bore into him with such a fire, ferocity and passion mixing to create a stunning swirl of devotedness and adoration, the same ones that reflected in his own eyes. It was the memories of those eyes that he longed for in those ceaseless nights, staring at the perimeters of his cell—you had shown him a purpose, being the reason he was inside that cell in the first place, the reason he fought against the hands of fate and the will of a fellow demon.

Because if anything had happened to you while he was stuck in the damned jail—if even one aspect of his plans had fallen through, he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. It didn't matter if he had to put his own life on the line. He would do it a million lifetimes over to ensure your safety—even if it meant sacrificing the life you had together, the comfort you brought that made him want to live, to feel enlivened through the tenderness of your unyielding love, always bringing him back from the tedious degeneration of living. The way you looked at him made him realize that to you, at the end of the day, he was the only thing that mattered.

And it was the same for him.

You continued to cling to one another as the celebrations continued below, an aura of gratitude coating the hospital room's walls as you soaked in his presence, listening to his words and feeling that enlivened love between you, knowing that it would be mirrored back tenfold.

And those doves flew into the skies above, although one, in particular, remained, only for a moment, perched at the edge of the room's window. It tilted its head, peeking inside at the sight of the two of you, and with a thistle of its white feathers, it flew into the air to join the rest.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat

© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2023 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅ #starring: dazai .ೃ࿐ #gn!reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader