#i think the physical container they come in is part of what threw me for so long

[boyswanna-be-her]

Let me preface this by saying that I'm recounting all of this kind of mundane shit about BFR for myself because guaranteed I'm going to be trying to understand/recap this narrative while im lonely in colorado. And honestly I know it's gonna be easy for me to forget details and second-guess shit that feels so obvious to me in the moment. So if you don't want a blow by blow of this absolutely PG romantic relationship, just skip this one for now.

Today was really nice and the first day in a little while where I haven't had anything pressing to do. It was pouring at the clinic today--has been all week. Yesterday I sat in my front seat w BFR and we smoked a joint together and made fun of the one wet protester until the rain passed. Great morning.

We had lunch together at one of my favorite taco spots in my old neighborhood, and then we had to walk back to the thai place where we ate dinner the night before bc they'd left their sunglasses behind. We went to a coffee shop for a while where they patiently waited for me to be done with a working meeting on my laptop. Then we took a walk in the park in between rain. It was just seamless, idk. There's no question that we'll go do the next thing together. When the rain wouldn't let up at the park, I suggested we go to one of my fave places in the city, and I drove us to a giant used bookstore that was a few miles away.

I didn't realize until we got there that they'd never been before!! I try to take everyone I can there if they're from out of town, and it is ABSOLUTELY my favorite place to both take a new date and have a special date with an established partner. I don't feel guilty about taking basically everyone I've ever dated there--a good date is a good date. There's a lot of built-in conversation to be had and it's easier than a bar and free to wander around. We accidentally killed an enormous amount of time there, and we shot the shit about 20th century history which is my jam, so amazing to talk abt it w someone who can hang, READS, and doesn't have anything to prove in terms of static knowledge recall.

We hung out for a little while but they had yoga and I wanted to head home so we split up after that and it felt... weird? Like it always feels like there's this last step we are missing to our goodbyes. They forced a hug one time when we were saying goodbye from the clinic, but it was really early on and RIGHT when I was coming to terms with being attracted to them (like second time seeing them after having the realization) which means I was in ultra robot mode, and also assumed it was one-sided and they were just trying to be nice. Like I literally think I did a one arm side hug and they were so dejected they never tried again. Now we're weeks later and it feels weird that we're not kissing goodnight or something.

But I had the evening to myself and finally broke down and talked to someone from my real life about them. He was very affirming that I'm not insane, and just recapping the timeline to someone made it make more sense in my mind. I didn't even have to present half of my evidence for my friend to say yeah, that's going in A Direction. I just second guess it all for a variety of reasons, but for example when I screenshotted a text and sent it as evidence that I feel like they text me like a coworker sometimes, my friend pointed out that nobody in the history of neutral coworkers has ever crafted such a long and careful text. Which. Touche.

This morning we were back out at the clinic bright and early. My friend was supposed to join us but she couldn't at the last minute. Instead she dropped into the chat and asked if someone could fill in for her. If I didn't feel like we were already attracting attention (spoiler: we are), i would've REALLY preferred to jump in and say "noooo worries, no third wheel needed please." But we are getting a little visible. So I didn't. And BFR's friend jumped in to take my friend's place volunteering with us.

I ended up being really happy the friend was there though! The two of us are more like a couple when there IS a third person there, although the vibe can be a lot to navigate sometimes and I often have to shut down and take some time to myself. It wasn't unwelcome to have him there though. It makes the vibe between me & bfr more apparent, pronounced, whatever. We already have such a shorthand in common which 😍 wrow, communication fluency.

I invited his friend to lunch with us, and he accepted, and it was fun--I took them to my favorite Greek place which is legit like three blocks from the clinic.

Friend went on his way, the two of us moved to the next location: their favorite spot to work. I also love this location bc you can watch the afternoon rain and vape furiously on the porch without getting wet. Like I said, today was the first day in a while where neither of us had much to do in the way of work. They have been threatening to inflict their favorite board game on me for a while now, and it finally happened today. I am notoriously uninterested in board games (more like bored games amiright) but the combo of my biggest fan being excited to teach/compliment me on how AMAZING i am at it (rofl lying but ok) and the inherent fun of the game meant that I, uh, had a lot of fun, unfortunately.

We did two REALLY close rounds, and in the second game they almost fully missed a work call they had at 7:00 (I remembered bc i am insane but I also didn't mention it until 6:50 bc I thought maybe they were goofing on me and pretending like they'd lost track of time). Turns out they had been planning on muting and barely looking at the meeting anyway bc they didn't wanna stop playing--which is flattering but I'm also like "[Redacted], i already very much want the best for you, INCLUDING not becoming completely codependent and risking your living bc im so charming and fun" so there was a lot of me pausing the play and asking about the meeting.

By the time that was over, we were already butting up against the time we were supposed to meet their friends to lift tonight. We hadn't eaten dinner but they offered to feed me at their place which was perfect. We went straight back and holy shit their homemade leftovers were delicious.

Their friends came on time to lift and the first thing out of the mouth of the one who knows me better was "you and [redacted] have really been spending a lot of time together huh?" The two of us made eye contact and kinda laughed and BFR said "yep" and both made the 😬 face and the friend wouldn't let it go and repeated "you guys spend all day together now..." and my 😬 face couldn't get any more intense and he said "all day... today..." i said "yep we're pretty codependent." (I'd made the same not-joke yesterday when I was very truly pointing out that I don't remember what to do with my alone time anymore, and they not-jokingly replied "yeah we've ruined each other." Which like. At least we're aware.) Only later did I realize that BFR mustve been talking to the friend about it bc I definitely wasn't and there was no public talk about it in our shared discord so 👀 bitch i see u chatting in private abt me.

Lifting was incredible as always. Their friends who are a decade younger than us and sometimes join us, sometimes don't, really crack me up and I have such a good rapport with one of the guys that I think I lift better with him around (the one who was giving us a hard time tonight). He dishes out the abuse I give him while lifting, which I love. Between him and bfr, I feel like a fucking all-star lifter in that little garage gym. They talk positively about my form when they don't even realize I can hear them. Even so, BFR will not hesitate to call me out when a lift looks bad or I need a cue.

So yeah. It's nice. Hanging out at their place, being fed, getting let in on a LOT more inner details than I got in the first months of knowing them. That's all lovely. I always try to text them and let them know when I've had a lot of fun with them, and that's just basically turned into a nightly check-in. On Sunday, I got a very coworkery (imo) message from them about enjoying our time together, thanking me for my "wonderful company," thanking me for spending so much time together, thanking me for attending so many events with them, and saying that they are "definitely down to keep hanging out in the future." At the time I felt like "that's a weirdly formal way to put all this" but getting home to tonight's much more neurotic message made it make more sense (along w the feedback from a trusted friend who makes good points). Like it was a careful message because they are being exceedingly careful with me. They know some of my more obvious damage (all the psychic sucking chest wounds are hard to ignore after a few weeks of learning about me, and i've been going out of my way to be quite "warts and all" with them). They value our time together A LOT. And the more that I understand our similarities, the more I know that they're also likely really fucking scared to endanger the chemistry of this friendship by introducing ANY other dynamic.

Im finally getting to the end here. Tumblr will probably eat this entry. I'm posting it before a full edit--RIP anyone parsing this.

But the message that I came home to tonight was FINALLY a little more vulnerable, and essentially said that if I want to spend LESS time with them, I'm going to have to tell them that straight up, and that that'll be ok, but if so they need to lnow because this is the amount of time they want to spend with me (all of it), and they don't anticipate that changing.

So! Guess I'll puke and die now! Literally spent five minutes last night considering how I could smuggle them to Colorado with me. Also I haven't had anywhere to put this but since this is an all-bfr all the time blog now, we are going to go on a trip together to chicago in August! There's an actual reason to go other than lovefest vacation (pretty much a work trip for them that I've been asked to tag along for) but as we are actually finalizing the trip plans, it definitely feels more than a little bit like we are going on a lovefest vacation. Which is all the more reason why it would be great to not be hella conspicuous (even though it's a little fun being hella conspicuous).

Like I didn't need another human to come validate my existence, but I *did* need to meet someone who could threaten the idea that I'm ready to die alone. It's nice. It's all nice!! I'm definitely not crying and throwing up!!!

#i am not doing either of those things but i AM messy #the game is Class War btw #i felt like there were more items i was holding for the tags #prob just more conspicuous evidence that i am Liked and Cherished #if we ever get to the eventual reveal on this person idk what the reaction will be #theyre nothing like anyone i've ever dated physically #chemistry wise it's ridiculous #personality wise it's a win #i think the physical container they come in is part of what threw me for so long #I'm... not complaining that is not a complaint lmao #my biggest fan is more conventionally attractive than me which isn't RARE for my relationships #just like not someone who was on my radar on a physical level #until they started touching me all the time and making me feel like the only person in the room #bfr

[sofasoap]

A quiet moment - Lastochka

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish) + Taskforce 141 + König

Summary: Little Anya getting all the love from her family.

Part I , Part II, Interlude,Part III,Part IV,Part V,Epilogue, Night

WARNING: Mature theme, talk of pregnancy, swearing, slight hint of sexy time

Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Nikolai can hear you groaning over the headset, in discomfort. But he couldn’t see what was happening. They are flying over a danger zone, he can’t afford to lose his concentration nor tear his eyes off from the sky, no matter how much he wants to turn around, and check up on you physically. He has noticed you haven’t really been yourself in the last month or so. Often wake up groggy, exhausted all day, and losing appetite. He is seriously starting to worry there might be something wrong with you. You are currently bending over, head in your hand and legs curled up in your seat, trying everything to distract yourself from the nauseating feeling that hits you in waves every time there is a slight turbulence, shaking the helicopter.

“Um… Uh, You ok??” König asked, trying to pat you on the back clumsily. Letting out another groan, you threw your headset to the side, curling up even further into your seat, into a foetus position. Slightly panicking, König reached into one of his side pouches, where he brought out a little tin container. Opening it up, he took out a piece of candied lemon ginger from there and stuffed it into your hand. “Ah, have this, I , um, get motion sickness sometimes, and um, this usually helps.” he stammered as he explains, encouraging you to put the candy into your mouth, hoping to give you a bit of relief. Turning your head slightly with watery eyes, you nodded your head, and quickly putting the candy into your mouth. Getting slight relief from the tanginess of the lemon and spiciness of the ginger, you turn onto your side, leaning your head against the back of the pilot seat. “Give me comfort to have my wife as close to me as possible.” Nikolai said once when you question why he always insists on you sitting right behind him. Now you are glad you have something to lean against, other than trying to lean against König, which you are sure the giant soldier probably will get a panic attack if you do that. With a shaky hand, you pointed to the med kit on the other side of the helicopter, mumbling something. König leaned closer and asked you to repeat.

‘.... ondansetron…..med kit… pass it to me please…” you said weakly. You knew you should have taken it this morning before boarding the flight.  But went against it because you didn’t want to fall asleep during the mission. 

Quickly unbuckle his seat belt, passing other soldiers as he stride over to grab the medication you needed, and pass it onto you. Breaking the foil and putting it under your tongue, try to let your mind wander, and think of everything else other than the breakfast and bile that is threatening to come back up, at the same time praying the anti-nausea medication will kick in ASAP.

König took his headset off, leaning closer, trying to be discreet, “Not trying to be nosy but um, my wife.. She had similar symptoms when she was… you know.” motioning with his large hand, indicating a large stomach. 

You feel like someone has dumped a bucketful of cold water over your head. Shit, you forgot that might be the possibility. But… you have a birth control implant. That’s when you realised, it has expired. For quite a while too. CRAP.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Fidgeting with his hand as he reassured you,you nodded your head with gratitude, thanking him for looking after you.  He pressed the small tin box with the candy into your hand. “Here have this, just in case um, you need it again.” Opening your eyes wide, you shook your head, trying to decline.

‘It’s ok. I can make more.” “You, you made this?” Gosh, that was a surprise.

Twiddling his thumb, he confessed, “I .. I like baking. And um, carving.” Your eyes brightened up. Two of you spend the rest of the flight discussing recipes, and exchanging your famous chocolate biscuit recipe for his Oma’s mouth watering apple strudel recipe. It was a welcoming distraction until the helicopter came to land.

Nikolai found you lying down across the seat, lazily waving goodbye to the soldiers as they departed for their mission. 

“Hey.” You greeted your husband with half closed eyes, the medication has finally kicked in, so has the side effect.

Frowning as he gently moves your head into his lap and caresses your face, “What’s going on little bird, I am seriously worrying about you lately.” “Nothing. Just getting a bit air sick.”Closing your eyes as you enjoy his loving touches, and trying to dismiss his concerns. Not wanting to fuss about you and letting him in on the news until you are a hundred percent sure. There is a chance maybe you ate something that doesn’t agree with you, or maybe you are getting a bit old, and motion sickness gets you easier now. But deep down, you are pretty certain the cause of the discomfort. “You never get motion sickness. At least not when I am piloting.” He puffed with pride. “I know how your brain works, little bird, tell me what is wrong.” He can always read your thoughts. When you are hiding something. When you are uncomfortable. When you pretend to be strong. “I really don’t know.” You are scared. Scared by his reaction to a possible new addition to the family? Or are you scared that after finally working your way back to active duty, you will be pushed back to sitting in the barrack again, that feeling of uselessness coming back to you again. Taking a deep breath and circling your arm around his waist, “Maybe it’s something I ate. I’ll get it checked out once we are back at the base.” 

“Promise me you will?” He gave you a look of warning. He knows you too well. You will put things off until the last minute or until necessary.

“Yes love. I will.” burying your face into his abs, taking in his scent, giving you some comfort. Not yet. Just to keep it to yourself a little bit longer..

“Positive?????” “Positive. Congratulations.” 

Chameleon passed you the pregnancy stick and blood test result. “Now you know what that means right?”

Your shoulders drop. Rubbing your forehead, you know you have to stop all active duty pretty much from now on. You are going to miss looking after the team from the frontline. 

“How did you do it?” You asked after staring at the piece of paper in front of you. Signing off another few documents,she replied,“ Well,I guess my situation is slightly different, I rarely get sent out, so it was easier for me. But.” passing the prescriptions to you, “You know how much John fusses over things, he was texting every hour, if they weren’t going dark,asking how I was feeling.” She sighed. 

You can just imagine the Captain hovering around his wife, nagging away like a mother hen. Letting out a snorting laugh, you took the documents from her. 

“Anyway, go get some rest. I’ll file the reports to the HR tomorrow. But it’s up to you to break the news to the boys now.” She smiled. You gave her a big hug before you left the infirmary, back to your shared room. You don’t know how long you have sat there for, zoning out, thinking of ways to break the news to the team. Or to your husband first. Also trying to fully come to terms with the situation, another big twist to your life. The two of you have briefly talked about the possibility of starting a family when you first got married. You were quite reluctant to jump into it after trying to recover from your ordeal, and Nikolai never mentioned anything again, and you assumed either he wasn’t too keen to bring up the subject or he had given up on the idea. You heard the soft click of the door unlocking, before seeing Nikolai stepping into the room. Calling out to him with a wavering voice, lips trembling, trying hard to contain the tears that are threatening to drop from your eyes. Those damn hormones are already wrecking your emotions, you thought. Why are you even crying???? It’s a happy occasion isn’t it? That self doubt starts to appear again. What if he gets angry at you? What if he doesn’t want the child at all? On that thought you bursted out crying. Nikolai immediately closes the door, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of you. “What’s the matter Lastochka, was it bad news from the doctor? Please tell me?” He gently wraps his larger hands around yours, encouraging you to talk. 

Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, you closed your eyes, taking a few deep breath before Letting out the news. “I .. I can’t be with you anymore….” you hiccuped. You feel his hand tighten around yours. Opening your eyes, you can see flashes of fear before staring at you with hardened eyes.  

Realising your mistake, you quickly explain, “ No. nono, that came out totally wrong.” you quickly pull back his already retracting hands, guiding it towards your now slightly showing bump. “I can’t go on missions with you boys anymore. Lady Fortuna is officially off active duty now.” you let out a weak chuckle. “ and you.” Patting his hand and softening your gaze at him, “Have to start learning to be a Papa.” He was still staring at you, you couldn’t figure out his emotion at all. You chewed on your lip, waiting anxiously for his reaction. Pulling one of his hands away, his eyes dropped down to your stomach, slowly caressing it as he started mumbling words in Russian. Your eyes fill up with tears again as you see him showing tenderness towards the unborn baby.

“...Boy or girl?” he whispered. Shaking your head. “I am not sure yet. I am going for the scan in a few days.” “How far along?” 

“I am guessing I am still in the first trimester….” You didn’t want to say, but you had a pretty good idea when this happened…. 

That night was the first time he showed his full possessiveness towards you. Filling you up again and again.“That Сука has tainted my beautiful Lastochka with their filthy hand…” “I have told you before, you will only crave for me, no one else.”

“My beautiful bird,sing for me again.. I know you can do it..” 

Your face starts burning when you think back to the night. “From that covert mission?” he chuckled. “We were.. Quite busy that night.” standing up, he moved himself to sit beside you, and pull you into his lap. 

“Thank you.” He whispered as he slowly and gently kisses you.

“For what?” you murmured.

“Carrying our child.” You chuckled. “Hey, you were part of the production as well.” you teased. “It’s only the start of the journey. We still have a long way to go.” Caressing your bump, he cooed, “Well, can’t wait to meet you, our little nestling.” 

“COME ON Anya, come to uncle Gaz!!!” “Nonono Anya, come to your REAL uncle here!!” 

“....... “ Ghost sits there, opening his arm, staring down at the baby without a word. “Ignore those .. What is the word, bampots? Come to Poppy Price.” Little Anya crawled forward, looking at each one of them, confused. She slowly moves towards Gaz, who is waving one of his latest crochet dolls at her, trying to lure the baby. Anya pouted a little, and looked at her Uncle Soap, currently flashing a brilliant smile at his niece. Anya hesitated, and eyed Ghost, and her eyes went wide with tears in her eyes, and started quickly crawling towards Price. “There there.. It’s ok.” Price cooed and patted the poor baby as she burst into tears, startled by Ghost’s balaclava. Ghost hung his head, shoulders down, feeling defeated. Gaz and Soap gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “ Maybe lose the balaclava and just wear a face mask next time…” Gaz suggested. Stuffing one of the dolls into his hand, “Or maybe try this.” 

The four men were in quite a shock when you called them into Price’s office days after your discovery. 

Sliding the ultrasound picture onto the desk. All four of them stared at it, looking up to you, and back to the photo, and seconds later, Ghost, Gaz and Soap erupted into an argument over who is going to be the godfather to the baby, while Price rubbing his temple, irritated at their antics.

You shifted yourself off base towards the end of the pregnancy, getting ready for the birth.  Price helped you to find a place, close to the base, easy for you to go back and forth for work and visiting. 

The soldiers at the base also have secretly named Ghost Gaz and Soap “Cerberus” as there is always one of the men walking around with you all the time like a guard dog whenever Nikolai isn’t around to look after you.

Little Anya was definitely spoiled by his godfathers and uncles even before she was born.

König and his wife sent a baby gift in a huge crate. You found all sorts of things there. Blankets and winter clothes his wife has made, wooden toys and baby mobiles with aeroplane and helicopter hanging off it made by König. Even a rocking horse. You were really touched by the thoughtfulness of the couple, especially his wife, who you never met before.

This fired up Gaz’s competitiveness when he discovered all the clothing and toys König had sent. He came over one day with a huge bag, inside was all the crocheted dolls of everyone.

Price with his signature boonie hat and little cigar in his mouth, Soap with his mohawk, Gaz with his Union Jack cap, Nikolai and his aviator and headset, and there is you too, in a little combat gear. Konig in his hood and gears. He even asked for photos of your parents crocheting new doll figures afterwards too. 

“You made all these?????” Your jaws drop as he keeps bringing over new knitted items. Now you know where all your previous birthday and holiday gifts came from, you always wondered how everything fits you perfectly with all the unique patterns. Gaz has really surprised you with his unexpected handcraft skills. Soap and Ghost practically decorated the whole nursery full of stuff from the cot and changing tables and the dressers and any supplies you can name? They bought it all.

“.... Boys, you realise you have bought a half room full of nappies that I possibly wouldn’t ever finish using?”

“Hey, they did say newborns pop a lot, better to be ready than sorry.” Soap shrugged his shoulders. “And my niece deserves the best. Doesn’t she??” he bent down and started talking in a baby voice to your very ballooned up stomach. You can see Ghost nodding in agreement behind Soap. 

Price and Chameleon, being experienced parents to two adult kids, provided you with tips and guidance when you needed the most. Especially Chameleon, she knew the hardship of being a soldier’s wife, looking after the children alone. She was there when your water broke, to calm you down when you were crying and worrying Nikolai and the men wouldn’t make it back in time to witness the birth of the baby.

Anya MacTavish ( Nikolai and you decided she would take on your surname, as it was dangerous for Nikolai’s true name and identity to be attached to the child ) was born a healthy baby, inheriting her father’s more calming nature, making minimal fuss when she landed in this world. 

Nikolai tries to be there for the two of you as much as he can. Between assisting the SAS and running the mercenary group, he is a busy man. His heart often drops every time when he comes home, his daughter will clutch onto you, in fear and looking at him as if he is a stranger. It breaks his heart. He decided he needs to start pulling back, spreading his workload to his second in command and spending more time with his family. 

Ghost looked down at the doll he was holding, thought hard for a second, before he went ahead and removed his balaclava. You have only seen once or twice in rare circumstances the real face of Simon, but you didn’t expect him to remove the face covering just for your daughter. Hiding her face in the crook of her Poppy Price’s neck, she turned her face slightly as Simon tried to call out to her, waving awkwardly the little doll of himself. She looks at him, eyes going wide again, trying to make sense of who this “ new person “ is, before reaching out for the doll, Price slowly passes Anya over to Simon, while she is distracted. She let out a little yawn as she fiddled around with the doll, eyes fluttering and fell asleep snuggling in Simon’s arm. Everyone smiled at the scene in front of them.

You can see mixed emotion in Simon’s eyes. Happy that both him and Anya are slowly getting comfortable with one another. Your brother-in-arms deserves every bit of happiness after all the trauma he went through with his life, and maybe his goddaughter will bring him that tiny bit of joy. You gave Nikolai a nudge, reminding him to guide Simon upstairs towards the nursery to put the baby down in the cot to sleep.

“Still sleeping?” Nikolai asked in a hushed voice, as he came up and checked his little princess after all the men had returned to the base. Peering over the cot, he can see she’s holding on tight to the Ghost doll in her arm, while sucking on her thumb as she sleeps.

“Sleeping like a log. Nothing is phasing her even if the ceiling collapses.” You are fortunate Anya has been a very easy baby, sleeping through the night most of the time. A very deep sleeper too. “Just like her mother.” “Hey, I do wake up when I sense danger.” You pouted, referring to the safe house incident where you didn’t even realise Soap and Gaz had entered the apartment.

Nikolai bent over and gave his little baby daughter a kiss on the cheek. Thinking back when he proposed to you. He thought he was lucky enough just to have you in his life, now he has a tiny little precious bird he will give all his life to protect her from all the evil of the world. Letting out a yawn. Exhausted from entertaining the guests you were ready to sleep.  You let out a little yelp as Nikolai scoop you up into a bridal carry. “Time for bed for the big princess.” Kissing you lightly on your forehead, carrying you back towards the bedroom. Ideas pop up in his head. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

141 boys often volunteer for babysitting duty.  They were a constant presence in their goddaughter’s life growing up. There is also the constant battle of “ who is Anya’s favourite” going on between the men.

When Anya got married, she insisted her Papa and all her uncles and Poppy walk her down the aisle. 

Anya often changes which doll she is in favour of, one week might be Ghost, next week might be Gaz, or hugging both Price and Soap’s doll to sleep at same time. You tease Price and Chameleon if they are getting clucky again, or they are wishing for a grandkid, Price paled thinking about his little Grace being married so young. You tried out König’s recipe of Apple strudel. And it is heavenly delicious. It became one of Nikolai and Anya’s favourite desserts. 

Yes, thanks to  @siilvan , I am so inspired and might write another chapter in regard how Anya was produced *wink wink * what exactly happened the night of the covert mission (Let’s hope the muse of Smut will inspire me bit more this time )

taglist:

@homicidal-slvt,

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@siilvan @floral-force @kaplerrr

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #könig call of duty #mini mactavish universe #mini mactavish #mini mactavish verse #sofasoap writes

[feverishly-kpop]

Beomgyu & TXT - Anxiety

A/N - as the title implies, this story contains themes of mental illness and anxiety. Please be kind to yourself and considerate of your own mental health when determining if and when to read this!

“I think that’s good for today, yeah?” Soobin looked around at the others who were all equally as sweaty and tired as he was. Yeonjun, Taehyun and Kai all nodded in agreement, relieved that practice was finally over and that they had the next day off. It was their last full day off before their comeback so Soobin had instructed them to try and rest in order to be ready for the hectic few weeks that were to come.

Soobin couldn’t help but notice that Beomgyu didn’t seem as eager to leave as the rest of the members, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the leader as he paced back and forth in the far corner of the room. Yeonjun noticed as well. He had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu for the last week or so after he noticed how anxious Beomgyu seemed.

At first he was just quiet - his usual enthusiasm about the most minute aspects of their lives very obviously lacking. But as the days continued it seemed that Beomgyu was continuing to withdraw. Yeonjun took stock of how physically tense his dongsaeng seemed as well as how emotionally despondent he had become. He has tried to approach him about it on more than one occasion but each time Beomgyu insisted he was just fine and that Yeonjun’s concerns were unfounded.

Yeonjun knew that they weren’t.

Soobin and Yeonjun locked eyes, sharing a knowing glance before diverting their attention back to Beomgyu, whose brow was furrowed as he wandered back and forth.

“Head down with them, I’ll be there with Gyu soon” Soobin quietly instructed Yeonjun. “Just give us a few minutes, okay?”

Yeonjun nodded before rounding up Taehyun and Kai. All three paused in the doorway and looked back to Beomgyu before Soobin gestured for them to leave him and Beomgyu alone.

The silence loomed overhead for a few moments until Beomgyu stopped in his tracks, seeming to finally notice that the rest of the members had left apart from Soobin who was standing quietly on the other side of the studio.

“Sorry, I guess I got distracted” Beomgyu said, pasting a fake smile across his face. Soobin nodded, giving his next actions some thought before taking a seat against the wall with his water bottle and indicating for Beomgyu to join him.

“What’s on your mind?” Soobin’s tone was light but had an underlying sense of seriousness. Beomgyu sat down next to him but didn’t respond. “Gyu, talk to me, please.”

“I’m fine. Just…” Beomgyu trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for word. “I’m going to stay a little longer. There were a few parts of the choreo that still feel a little awkward. Hopefully I can work them out tonight.”

Soobin wasn’t fond of the idea of leaving Beomgyu alone given how off he had been acting lately. At the very least he seemed exhausted and needed some sleep. But Beomgyu seemed to have read his mind, quickly reassuring him that he wouldn’t be too late. Soobin finally relented and stood up to collect this things. It wasn’t that he was fooled by Beomgyu’s feeble attempt to convince him that he was indeed absolutely fine, but he knew his dongsaeng well enough at this point to understand that he wouldn’t be receptive to a conversation right now.

“We’ll talk later then? Text me when you are on your way back” Soobin replied. Beomgyu nodded in response but he had a distant look in his eyes. They’d talk later, Soobin would make sure of that.

*~*~*~*~*~

You’re worrying them.

Get it together.

Beomgyu’s thoughts were racing as he threw his empty water bottle across the room causing a loud thud to echo in the silence.

He hated lying to his members and it felt way too easy at this point. It was certainly easier for him to tell them that he needed to keep working on the choreography that he had truthfully mastered weeks ago than to confess that he hadn’t been able to sleep and that most of every meal he was given ended up in the waste bin. Nobody else needed to know how overwhelmed he was as the comeback approached or how his anxiety had driven him to the point where be could barely function.

So he did the only thing he could bring himself to do. He curled up in a ball and closed his eyes, desperately hoping that the solitude combined with the level of exhaustion he was experiencing after a long and physically demanding dance practice would be enough to force his body to sleep, if only for a little while.

*~*~*~*~*~

Taehyun glanced down at his watch again. He and Soobin had been waiting up for Beomgyu to come home but it had been over three hours without any indication that he’d be returning soon.

“Still no word from him?” The fatigue in Taehyun’s voice was evident but he was adamant about waiting up for Beomgyu.

Soobin shook his head in response before standing up and grabbing a hoodie that somebody had left on the couch.

“I’m going to go get him. We’ve given him long enough to respond” Soobin said more so to himself than to Taehyun but Taehyun was quickly on his feet as well.

“Hyung…” Taehyun interjected awkwardly in a tone that immediately grabbed Soobin’s attention. “I think that maybe I should go.”

Soobin nodded in agreement as he pulled his shoes on but Taehyun wasn’t finished.

“I mean, I think I should go and you should stay here” he added, bracing himself for Soobin’s response. Soobin stopped what he was doing and looked up at Taehyun, unsure how to respond.

“You know we all love you hyung. But Gyu-hyung hasn’t been himself lately and if he’s overwhelmed about the comeback…” Taehyun chose his words carefully. “You’re the leader. I think what he needs right now is…not the leader.”

Soobin visibly deflated in a way that made Taehyun feel a bit guilty but it didn’t negate the truth. “Hyung it’s not…”

“No, no it’s okay!” Soobin straightened up and feigned a smile. “Don’t apologize. You’re right.”

“I’ll text you once we are on our way back” Taehyun said as he grabbed his jacket.

“Please text me if…I’ll send Yeonjun if he needs…” Soobin was at a loss for words but Taehyun nodded before heading out the door.

*~*~*~*~*~

Beomgyu’s sleep had been restless yet he woke with a start at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He took a moment to get his bearings before sitting up with the help of a gentle pair of hands.

“Don’t sit up too fast. You must be a little sore from sleeping on the floor” Taehyun’s voice was soft as he helped Beomgyu up. Despite being thankful for Taehyun’s help he was simultaneously mortified to be found like this.

“Hyunnie” Beomgyu replied, his voice gruff from sleeping for - how long had he been asleep anyway? It suddenly dawned on him that he told Soobin he’d be back soon. Clearly it wasn’t soon enough or Taehyun wouldn’t be there waking him up. He quickly tried to jump to his feet but Taehyun stopped him.

“Soobin’s mad, isn’t he?” Beomgyu was certain that he was in some hot water. “Shit…I just…”

Taehyun cut in quietly, not wanting Beomgyu to spiral any further. “Hyung.”

That was all it took for Beomgyu to break down. The tears started flowing before Taehyun could get another word out. Instead he just moved closer to his hyung who laid his head in his lap and hid his face in Taehyun’s shirt, clearly running on little more than fumes at this point. Taehyun, meanwhile, sat quietly, simply running a hand up and down Beomgyu’s back in an attempt to wordlessly comfort him.

After a few minutes Beomgyu’s tears were reduced to just a few sniffles here and there. He sat up and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, Taehyun-ah” he said sheepishly.

“Are you doing okay, hyung?” Taehyun asked once he was certain that Beomgyu had settled down enough.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’m not sick, I promise. Just a little tired I guess.” Beomgyu did his best to sound convincing but if the look ok Taehyun’s face was anything to go by he knew that he was anything but convincing.

“I know you aren’t sick, Gyu-hyung. That’s not what I was asking” Taehyun replied, pushing Beomgyu’s hair from his face before it could get anymore tear soaked than it already was.

Beomgyu took a deep breath and that’s when the flood gates opened. Taehyun listened and nodded along as Beomgyu explained how he didn’t feel like the style of the comeback suited him. How his voice didn’t sound right and how he had begged the producer to redistribute his lines to the rest of the members. How his outfit suffocated him and made him itchy all over. How his hat gave him a headache. How he felt like the style of dance made him look awkward and gangly. And, ultimately, how embarrassed he was about all of it and how he had kept it all to himself out of fear that he’d let the rest of the team down.

Taehyun waited for Beomgyu to get everything off of his chest before responding.

“I hear what you’re saying. And I could tell you that none of it is true but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel that way about it” he said softly as he reached into his bag and grabbed a bottle of water for Beomgyu. “But I think that there are some things that we can fix before the comeback.”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t want to be a bother…” Beomgyu started but Taehyun shook his head.

“It’s not being a bother. Your hat gives you a headache? Then fuck the hat. And I’m sure the stylists can make adjustments to your outfit to make it more comfortable.” Taehyun watched as his hyung’s breathing evened out, beginning to return to normal.

Beomgyu smiled sadly at Taehyun. “Thanks for coming, Hyunnie” he said quietly. “And thank you for listening to me, I know it all sounds so silly.”

“No it doesn’t, hyung. And any time” Taehyun responded as he helped Beomgyu off the floor. “Let’s go home. You need some sleep. In your bed, not on the floor.”

Taehyun pulled his phone out of his coat pocket as Beomgyu collected his things and got ready to go, quickly sending a text to Soobin:

“Heading back now. There’s a few changes that we need to discuss once we get Beomgyu to bed. See you soon.”

And with that he turned back to Beomgyu to set off back home.

#kpop sickfic #kpop fic #txt fanfic #beomgyu sickfic #Beomgyu fanfic #txtangst #kpop angst

[mothwithapencil]

Speaking of Jacq: the other day my wife and I discovered why there's tons of pixiv ship art of him and Clavell. And looking into it, that's cool I think. Also some of his lines in SCVI threw me down a huge rabbit hole of analysis and speculation almost completely unrelated to shipping but very much related to character ages, the professors, Area Zero, the Pokedex, and the really fucked up technological Pokemon timeline. This contains heavy spoilers and gets kind of ramble-y so sit down and get comfortable.

It appears Jacq is older than one would initially assume. He and Clavell worked together as researchers a long time ago. This promptly throws a ton of shit into question (see the list above).

In Jacq's class he's talking about when he made the Pokedex app and says something like "But that was waaay before I started teaching. In fact, Director Clavell wasn't in education at that time either! He was a researcher working alongside me at the same facility," which would have to imply Jacq has been around for much longer than he appears.

He was a researcher, which requires a degree, worked at a facility with Clavell for enough time to develop a Pokedex, and then there's whatever amount of time "waaay before I started teaching" means.

It's incredibly likely that "the same facility" meant the Area Zero labs with the professors. Not only because Clavell was there too. Area Zero has tons of hexagon symbolism. Most notably the unidentified hexagon-shell pokemon that's allegedly coming in the DLC and the Zero Gate being covered in hexagons. Although it's just the shape of his glasses, Jacq working with Clavell who also worked with the professors at Area Zero seems too intentional of a design choice.

And tbh Jacq and the professors look like they could potentially be around the same age? Roughly? Trying to map out stuff timeline-age wise is difficult.

On the topic of what the hell happened with Clavell and the professors and apparently also Jacq, I think all of them experienced some accelerated hair graying due to being around fluctuating time machine shit for a while... Which idk how that would happen but it's cool as fuck! We don't know what the professors looked like when they died or what they would have looked like had they not died. They could have had some graying or other aging too, probably the most of anyone. My wife brought this up after I wrote all this, but this could also be why Jacq looks so much younger than he is. An unstable flow of time could definitely fuck with one's appearance in a couple ways methinks.

I also feel like Clavell would have been extremely stressed after the Area Zero stuff because he was closer with the professors. I can't imagine that knowing your close friend is in grave danger, locked in a room in the deepest part of the most dangerous area in the world, would just. Not have any physical effects from the stress. With all that potentially being the case, it's hard to say just how old Clavell is. This is NOT to say he's "young." He's middle aged at LEAST. But given the circumstances and the fact that Pokemon ages +appearances have zero consistency, it's definitely questionable. Cyrus looks Like That and he's 27. Lusamine looks Like That and she's over 40. There's wiggle room for sure.

Maybe Clavell's hair went white early because of stress. Maybe he ages like milk. Maybe jacq just likes older dudes. The world may never know. But the only thing that's clear is that, given the implied timeline, Jacq is not like, 27 as I had previously thought.

That all being said, the Pokemon timeline is incredibly complex and contradictory. Drayden allegedly lived before pokeballs existed and Clavell allegedly had to hand write his Pokedex, but I don't think either of them were alive during Legends Arceus so someone is lying. But hand writing the Pokedex would be understandable if Jacq's Pokedex was the first digital one in Paldea. Which brings up a whole other question: "if Kanto had digital Pokedexes nearly 30 years ago why don't the different regions share the technology with each other? Why is every new region just now developing a Pokedex?" So like. What the fuck is happening.

Is Clavell just saying he had to hand write his pokedex to fuck with you and Nemona because neither of you were alive and/or self aware like 15-20 years ago when the digital Paldea Pokedex was developed by Jacq? Possibly.

I'm hoping this history with Jacq and Clavell gets expanded upon in the DLC, especially given their connection to Area Zero, because this was honestly such an interesting topic to think about. I'd love to discuss it further if any of y'all actually read through this!

#pokemon #pokemon scvi #scvi spoilers #jacq pokemon #director clavell #professor turo #professor sada #area zero #also this means i get to draw jacq with eye bags *breaks fingers*

[ironwhumper359]

The Tenets of Growth: Part 4

Atonement

First: The Path of Cultivation Prev: Flowering || Next: Replanting

CW: torture, restraints, hung by wrists, stress position, beating/caning, religious themes, religion used to justify torture, multiple whumpers.

Word count: 1900~

Author's Note: Putting the author's note at the top this time because this is it lads, this chapter actually contains actual, physical whump. Not referenced whump, not whump that's alluded to happening, this is an actual scene with two whumpers physically hurting a whumpee. Hooray! As much as I love the character and world building I'm doing, I do also love writing whump for whump's sake, and from here on out the amount of whump in this story is going way up, so if you saw the previous parts of this story and thought "hm, not whumpy enough for my tastes" then I'd ask you to check this chapter and the next chapter out and reconsider, because we're getting into it in earnest now! Anway, I'll stop rambling and let you enjoy the show <3

---

The guards came for the thief early in the morning. They yanked him to his feet, clapped iron cuffs around his wrists and ankles, and threw a bag over his head before hauling him out of the prison. 

The transport was a confused blur full of manhandling, jostling, and painful jabs, and by the time they reached their destination, the thief had nearly gone slack in the guard's grip. He let himself be dragged through he didn't know how many hallways and corridors, until finally coming to a halt.

He heard someone knock, followed by the sound of a squeaky hinge, then he was shoved so suddenly that he fell forward, catching himself awkwardly on his hands and knees. 

“Ah, excellent. His papers, please?” said a woman’s voice, followed by a rustling as the guards complied with her request. “Thank you. You may go.” 

The guards’ footsteps receded, but before the thief could even catch his breath, a new pair of hands grabbed him by the arms and tugged him to his feet. His arms were pushed above his head, and he heard the rattle of chains before the hands retreated. He tugged experimentally, and found that the cuffs on his wrists had been attached to something above him, forcing him to keep his arms raised. 

“Very good,” said the woman’s voice. “I must see to other preparations now. Inform me when he is ready for Replanting.” 

More footsteps, then the squeak of the hinge again, followed by the clang of the door shutting. The thief swallowed, doing his best not to think about what the other prisoners had said. 

“Some folks say they get killed…used as sacrifices in rituals and the like.”

That had to be nothing but a rumor, he simply couldn’t believe that the Order was performing secret human sacrifices. Perivyta was a harvest goddess, for goodness sake. But why else would they chain him in a dungeon like a slaughtered pig? Was there some other ritual they performed that required a live victim?  

“I don't know what happens in those Nurseries of theirs, but mark my words, boy. It's nothing good.”

“Lift him,” said a low voice, interrupting his thoughts. 

The thief barely had time to wonder what “lift him” meant before the sound of a crank turning filled the room and his wrists were raised higher above his head. With each rotation of the crank, his arms were pulled higher and higher, until his bare feet were scrambling against the stone floor for any purchase he could get to relieve the pressure on his wrists and shoulders. 

“Enough,” the low voice finally said, and the cranking stopped, leaving him precariously balanced on the tips of his toes. “Remove his clothing.”

“What?!” the thief cried out. “Hey! Stop!” 

He jerked wildly as a pair of hands began pulling on his trousers, but he froze when he felt something cold and sharp press into his neck. Once he stilled, his trousers and shirt were briskly stripped away, leaving him in only his underthings. The blade withdrew from his neck, and he shivered, from cold or fear, he wasn’t sure. 

"Remove the hood."

He blinked at the sudden flood of light as the bag was pulled roughly from his head, then quickly looked around, trying to get a read on his surroundings.

The room was fairly small, with wooden walls and a stone floor, and he was suspended from the ceiling in the very center. Two people stood in front of him; one was shorter and wore a simple robe of undyed linen tied with a red sash, while the taller man wore a robe dyed fully red, tied with a sash that matched. Both had the hoods of their robe pulled up, and their sleeves were tucked into the ends of thick leather gloves. This alone made for an unsettling silhouette, but what were particularly nerve wracking were the cloth masks covering the bottom halves of their faces, leaving only their eyes visible. 

 “What’s going on?” he asked, hoping that his voice didn’t betray his fear. “What are you going to do to me?” 

Neither responded, but the shorter one in the uncolored robe glanced briefly to the taller one in red. 

So, there was a hierarchy between the two.

As if to confirm his suspicions, the man in red nodded to the other, who stepped behind the thief and out of sight. The man in red tilted his head back, lifted his hands up, and spoke.

“To walk the path of Perivyta is to embrace Her will and grow in Her light. When we forsake Her ways, we forfeit our place at Her Table of Plenty.” 

The man lowered his hands and looked the thief in the face. 

“What rot has manifested in your life that has brought you here to me?” 

“I- what? What are you talking about?” 

The man did not reply, and looked over the thief’s shoulder. Before he could turn to see what the man was looking at, he heard the sound of the crank again and found himself being hoisted higher, until he was dangling nearly a foot off the ground.

“What rot has manifested in your life that has brought you here to me?” the man repeated. 

“Nothing!” the thief exclaimed. “I don’t know what you mean!” 

The man just shook his head. 

There was a *thunk* from behind, and the thief craned his head, trying to look at where the sound came from. The assistant had dragged over a crate, and the thief watched in morbid curiosity as they reached inside and pulled out a set of iron spheres connected by a chain.

“Listen,” he began. “I don’t-” 

His words were cut short by the assistant, who draped the chain connecting the spheres over the cuffs between his ankles. The weight couldn’t have been much more than five pounds, but it was enough to put noticeable strain on his already aching shoulders. 

“Every time you lie,” the man in red said calmly. “The weight will increase.” 

“But I’m telling the truth!” the thief insisted. The assistant added another pair of weights, and he grunted as the pressure on his shoulders intensified.

“I will ask until you answer,” the man said. “What. Rot. Has manifested in your life.” 

“I don’t know!” The thief groaned as the assistant placed more weights. “I don’t know what you mean, what do you mean?” 

“When rot enters our lives, we forget Perivyta’s way,” the man said. “We turn from her path of light and lead lives that bring only suffering, to ourselves as well as others. What rot has manifested-” 

“Theft!” he cried, understanding at last what the man wanted from him. “Theft, I- I stole from people. Broke into their houses.” 

“How many lives did you allow your rot to poison?” 

“I…don’t know,” the thief said. The assistant added even more weights, and he choked back a cry of pain.

“How many lives did you allow your rot to poison?” 

“I, I broke into three houses,” he said.  “I don’t know how many people- agh!” 

“Still you continue to lie,” the man said, shaking his head. “Or perhaps you are merely a fool.” 

“I don’t know!” the thief insisted. “It was three houses, I don’t know how many people lived there- no!” 

His shoulders were screaming with agony; every additional weight threatened to pop his arms out of their sockets completely. Tears welled unbidden in his eyes, and the man in red stepped closer to him. 

“The Goddess knows the truth of your heart,” he said. “You cannot hide your wandering from her, and you cannot atone until you admit fully to what you have done. How many lives did you allow your rot to poison?”

“I- ten,” the thief gasped. “I robbed ten houses, please, I don’t know how many people were there but I robbed ten houses, please, please…” 

“Repeat these words: I submit to Perivyta’s will, that she may welcome me once more to Her Table.” 

“I- I submit to Perivyta’s will,” he repeated helplessly. “That she may welcome me once more to Her Table, Please, no more, I’m sorry, please…”

The man in red nodded to the assistant, and after a moment the chain holding the thief up suddenly went slack, dropping him back to the floor. His feet had gone numb and he landed hard on his knees, but the sob he let out was one more of relief than of pain.

The assistant quickly gathered up the weights, returning them to their crate. The man in red lifted his hands above his head again and turned his face up towards the ceiling.

“The Goddess has heard your confession,” he said. “We prune away our rot in life, so that in death we might rightfully join with Her and be fruitful in Her eyes.”

He lowered his hands, then nodded to his assistant. 

“Position him.” 

The assistant began to turn the crank again, and the thief’s eyes widened as his arms were pulled back over his head.

“Wait, wait!” he exclaimed. 

He tried to scramble to his feet, but a gloved hand pressed between his shoulder blades, forcing him to stay on his knees. 

“I confessed!” he pleaded, looking up at the man in red with wide eyes. “It was ten, I robbed all ten houses! I confessed!” 

“You did,” the man in red agreed. “And now you atone.” 

The man held out his hand, and the assistant appeared, placing a long, thin cane in the man’s grip. 

“Turn him,” the man commanded.

“No, stop, just wait, please-”

His begging fell on deaf ears, and the assistant grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around so that he was facing the opposite wall. His breath caught in his throat, and he stared in horrified disbelief at what was now visible to him. 

The wall was neatly lined with dozens of tools: blades, pliers, shears, chains, whips, coils of rope, and other things he couldn’t even name. This wasn’t a cell, as he’d first assumed. 

This was a torture chamber.

“In Perivyta’s name, I restore you to Her favor,” the man in red said, and the thief braced himself.

The first strike across his back was harder than he’d thought it’d be, and he let out a strangled cry. 

“One,” said a small voice, the first time the thief had heard the assistant speak. 

The cane connected again and the thief’s body jerked. 

“Two.”

Again and again, the cane cracked across his back, and again and again he spasmed with pain. The assistant counted quietly for each strike, and the thief tried to focus on their voice, on counting the tools on the wall, on anything other than the white hot pain exploding across his back. 

After the sixth blow, there was a pause, and for a moment he thought it was over, but then the man spoke again. 

“Repeat these words: I give thanks to Perivyta for this Pruning, that I may walk Her Path of Light anew.”

“Please,” the thief whispered, tears streaming down his face. 

“If you do not, then we will begin again.” 

“I…I give thanks to Perivyta for this P-pruning….that I may walk Her Path of Light anew.” 

The cane struck, and he screamed. 

---

Prev: Flowering || Next: Replanting

Tenets of Growth Masterlist

#whump #whump fic #whump blog #whump writing #chained #beaten #caned #religious whump #tenets of growth #stress position #cedar

[cannedbeefaroni]

Why Didn’t You Stop Me? (Edward Nashton x Reader) (Angst)

This is part 1/2. Part 2 heavily contains smut. Read part 2 here

Summary: (Y/N) takes on a villainous altar ego after a severe mental break that leads to murder. An old friend pays a visit after seeing what she’s been getting up to.

Content: VAGUE DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND MURDER, BREAKING AND ENTERING, VAGUE MENTION OF A SHARP WEAPON DRAWING BLOOD, VAGUE MENTION OF ABUSE/CHILD ABUSE, DEPRESSION, PARANOIA, SELF LOATHING, CODEPENDENCY, (Y/N) CRIES A LOT

(Y/N) is referred to as she/her

I look for a picture of you to

Keep in my pocket

But I can’t seem to find one

Where you look how I remember

How long has it been since (Y/N) was in love? She’d be lying if she said she couldn’t remember, but she preferred to not think about it too much. The last person she was with fell off the face of the earth one day and left her wondering what she did wrong. Yes, she wanted a new partner, but after everything that’s happened to her, she has more to think about. 

She killed a man. Plain and simple. 

If her childhood and adolescent trauma weren’t enough, now she had another reason to seek psychiatric help. No one knew she did it. She had no idea how she got that lucky, but she didn’t know whether to be relieved or ashamed. She felt bad, but did she regret what she did? No. Fucker had it coming. She couldn’t count how many times she had called CPS on him. They never did anything. He was beating the shit out of his wife and kids. Even when she reported him to her boss, they did nothing. She saw the beatings in real time. She stalked him for weeks. Hell, she even recorded it. But when she came forth with evidence, she was the one charged for recording his family without permission. This world was corrupt. She had to do something.

It wasn’t her fault she was there that night, throwing out a broken paper cutter machine; and there he was, walking through the pitch black alleyway. She had a massive blade. She didn’t know if there was a higher being, but she believed she was there for a reason. She had no choice. She had to slice his fucking head off. Sure, maybe dismembering the body, and arranging the body parts and organs into a well designed display for the bastard cops to see was too far. But maybe she was just elated, finally feeling like she was on earth for a reason. 

Ever since that night she decided she was done pretending to be like everyone else. She became cold and isolated to everyone she knew, and became a complete shut-in; except for when she’d go out at night. Finally being freed from her own mental shackles, she decided to finally pursue what she really loved: art. The idea of her being an artist was shot down so many times in her early life, she never even considered it in adulthood. But now, she could use it as a weapon. She’d go around rich neighborhoods and important figures' houses to destroy them. She’d graffiti, smash windows, throw rotten eggs, and do whatever vile things she could think of to their property. 

Tonight, she was on her way home from a night out. She wore a painter’s filtration mask to keep her identity hidden. She stumbled around, exhausted. She was a mess; physically and emotionally. All of her thoughts were assaulting her head, and she sat on the ground on the sidewalk to compose herself, if only a little. She pulled a spraypaint can out of her bag, staring at the label. She wondered how people managed to get high off aerosol containers. If she could figure out how to do it, maybe it would help her feel less shitty. After pulling her mask down, she instantly regretted her decision as she spray painted the inside of her nose; and possibly her trachea, windpipe, and lungs. So, she threw the can aside and decided to just curl up and sob. 

Suddenly, she heard the footsteps of an approaching figure, and jolted up. They sounded close, but when she turned around, she saw a figure directly behind her back. She froze in terror, as they appeared to be some kind of masked thug. In this city, those were a dime a dozen, but she had been really good so far at avoiding them. She stared for a moment before realizing her mask off, and this stranger had seen her entire face. She bolted as fast as she could down the street. No idea where to go, but she just had to run. Not bothering to even look behind, she ran into a subway and hopped on a random train that was about to depart. She sighed a breath of relief as she realized that person hadn’t followed her on. 

She spent the rest of the night on various trains, trying to find her way home. If that creepy person had been following her, they must have gotten sick of her spending all night going nowhere. When she finally got back to her apartment, she threw herself onto her couch, filthy and decrepit. She didn’t care what day or time it was, she just wanted to sleep forever. Maybe dream about a better life for a few hours. 

Days passed as she returned to her usual routine, which only consisted of going to work for nothing but a paycheck, and sleeping. She held off on the nights out for a bit after becoming increasingly paranoid. She wondered if maybe she should quit and pursue a normal life; maybe settle down and marry somebody so she won't have to be so alone. She thought back to her past relationships of disappointments, especially the last one before she gave up on love. Everything was going so well, but he just disappeared without saying a word. She thought maybe he died, and somehow his death wasn’t on record. But the conclusion she couldn’t help but arrive at was that he abandoned her. She’d rather die than ever have to experience that feeling ever again. 

Every time she left the house she got the uneasy feeling that someone was following her, but she chalked it up to her paranoia. She couldn’t help but think that masked thug from the other night was stalking her. She thought about it constantly, and wondered what they could possibly want with her. She worried they were somehow related to the guy she killed, and they’re now out to get her. Sitting in the break room at her job, she stared at the wood grain on the table, going through horrifying possible scenarios in her head. Everyone else in the room ignored her, watching the news on the television. Randomly, she looked up at the screen, wondering what was catching their interest.

News anchors were discussing some new criminal whose picture was on the left of the screen. It was all too familiar. The freaky green mask with glasses atop, and wide eyes with impossibly dilated pupils. He was the one who saw her. And he’s apparently a major threat to society. She couldn’t even pay attention to the broadcast as she lost her shit internally. 

Was this her punishment? Was she going to die?

Days passed of intense paranoia. Every step she took outside the house felt like a countdown to her demise. She could barely function at her job and almost completely lost her appetite. She couldn’t understand why she was so afraid to die. Maybe she’d rather have her own say in how she leaves the world. She beat herself up over not foreseeing this: being entangled with dangerous people. There was never a chance she could just discreetly become a criminal without ever having to pay a price. 

In the middle of the night, she laid on her bed over the covers, just to stare at the ceiling. Not much went through her head, only vague dark ideas. She was exhausted beyond belief, wishing she could just fall asleep for once and not lay awake for hours. She tried reading, drawing, even just scrolling mindlessly on her phone, but she couldn’t focus on anything. 

Suddenly, she heard fumbling outside her window. 

She laid, completely frozen in place. Her apartment window had a fire escape, and it sounded like someone was climbing it. She wanted to scream and cry, but her body remained dormant. As the sounds grew louder, she slowly dragged herself out of bed, checking if the window was locked. Figuring a window wouldn’t stop them, she creeped over to a cabinet to retrieve a large kitchen knife. It was dull from use, but she figured it could still work to some extent. 

She wondered if it were best to just leave her apartment, but before she could think about it she heard the window lock click.

A person was crawling inside, caught behind the curtains. She held the knife tightly as she held her breath, shaking violently. As he got mostly inside, she finally mustered up the courage to attack, running to the figure and plunging the knife against their back. Her stabbing was too weak, and it ended up only plunging through the coat and cutting along their skin, eliciting a deep,  guttural scream. She screamed as well, mortified at what they might have planned for her. She jumped backward, trying to get as far away as she could.

The figure stood up, holding their bleeding shoulder, hunched over. As (Y/N) suspected, it was the same masked thug from that night. They stared into her eyes with the same dilated pupils, making her wonder if they were high on something, or were just naturally that scary. She held her knife, waiting for their next move as they stood panting in pain.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH,” they yelled, voice muffled. 

“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” She screamed back, nearly shrieking as she tried to make herself scarier. 

“Trust me, you already know who I am,” they sneered. “I’m someone you forgot a LONG time ago. But don't worry, I’m certain you’ve heard of me now.” Their voice fluctuated between screaming and quiet jeering. They lifted themself up, towering over her. 

“Y-you’re some criminal from the news… I guess? A killer?” She engaged with him out of morbid curiosity, but she knew it was stupid to do. For some reason, there was something deep inside her wanting to know more about this person. 

“Playing dumb gets you nowhere, sweetie. Everyone’s heard of The Riddler by now…” 

“Uh… okay… w-was that what you called yourself?” she asked. She genuinely thought she never heard that name before. That news broadcast she saw once was a blur in her memory.

“I forgot how dumb you were…” he scoffed. “Another pretty face with no brain behind it. Typical.”

“W-why are you calling me pretty?” she understood him calling her dumb, but the pretty part confused her. She felt embarrassed getting flustered at the backhanded compliment. 

“Because, darling, ever since I saw you that night, I couldn’t help but wonder: what was a pretty girl doing out on the streets in the middle of the night, huffing paint?” He slowly paced closer to her, laughing.

Every part of (Y/N)’s head was telling her to run out of the apartment and get help, but for some reason she was captivated by his presence. Even though she knew this man was dangerous, him speaking the word ‘pretty’ rang through her ears and drove her insane. Besides that, she worried that making a run for it would only put her in more danger if he could catch her; so she ended up staying in place, allowing him to get ever so slightly closer.

“You’re not one to judge what I do.” she responded coldly. 

“It takes one to know one, sweetheart. I know you’re doing bad things. You can’t hide it from me. I’ve seen you smash windows, and paint beautiful murals of death and decay on those disgusting bourgeois mansions. You need to stop acting innocent.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was tearing her down or praising her. She hung on every positive word he used toward her, even though she felt incredibly patronized. 

“I’m not like you…” she chewed on her lip, face growing hotter from either anger or embarrassment. 

“I know you think you’re better than me. You look at me and feel grateful that you’re not as disgusting. You’re just as bad. You’re fucked up but you won’t even admit it. You’d rather play businesswoman all day and keep your dirty secrets in the shadows like a liar.” he circled around her, spitting out the words cruelly.

“I’m horrible…” her voice cracked, staring at the floor as tears pooled in her eyes.

“Oh great, now you admit it and feel sorry for yourself. It’s pathetic. You don’t even know you could have it so much worse. Why don’t you go run to your boyfriend and cry about how terrible you feel?”

“What…? I-I don’t even have a boyfriend!” she snapped, confused at where that even came from.

“Please, you could easily get one if you wanted. It doesn't matter,” he scoffed. 

“I’ve been trying for six years!” she screamed. A dead silence rang out. “I tried so hard… b-but ever since my last boyfriend just… disappeared… I can’t move on. I want him back… I want him back so bad. But it doesn’t matter if he came back, he’d never want me again... I’ve ruined myself. I’m a monster. No one will ever want me again!” She whined desperately and heaved. She dropped the knife to the floor and covered her face with her hands. 

“What did you do?” he spoke after moments of silence.

“I can’t say,” she rubbed her puffy eyes. 

“You’re becoming like me, aren’t you?” 

“No! I won’t, I can’t! I don’t wanna do it ever again!” she cried out. 

“I can tell you killed someone just by how you’re reacting, sweetheart.” 

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT,” she shrieked as she punched him across the face, knocking his glasses off his masked face.

He fell backwards, grabbing his nose as he groaned. Once he got up, he stared at her intensely for a few moments. She buried her face back into her hands and sobbed heavily.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded. She picked her head up and wiped her eyes. He pulled off his mask and dropped it on the floor. She stared for a minute as tears ran down her face. 

“Eddie- Edward.” she croaked. “But… why?” 

“I could ask the same to you.”

“Oh, Eddie…” she approached him slowly, reaching her hand to his face as he stood motionless. Back when they were together, she always worried about him hurting himself; doing things that’d he regret. He was almost never happy, and his trauma got in the way of almost every aspect of his life. She thought back to all the times she wished she could’ve helped him, but she didn’t know how because she was also broken. “I wish I could’ve saved you… I'm sorry…”

Her shaky hand cupped his sweaty cheek as her thumb caressed his face. She wept as she stared into his cold eyes. 

“(Y/N)… you were my angel. I never loved anyone like I loved you. I thought you deserve someone better, that's why I left. But… look where we are now.” he spoke somberly, resting his face against her hand. “I never wanted you to sink to my level… I thought you would have moved on and had a family by now.” 

“I can’t…” she cried. “I tried but I just couldn’t love anyone else. You’re the one I want to be with. If I’m going to be a monster-” she choked on her sobs. She sniffed deeply and wiped her tears and snot. “I want to at least be a monster with you.” 

“Sweetheart… I’m not the same man you fell in love with…”

“Please, let me try to love you again. I missed you so much. I needed you.” she sobbed. 

Edward grabbed her arms firmly and pulled her close into a tight hug. It didn’t feel like it used to, between the layers of dirty clothes and thick gloves. Despite the smell and the roughness of his coat, she held onto him for dear life. She wailed into his shoulder as tears stained it. 

At this point, there was nothing to do. Neither of them had any idea of what would come of this. Even trying to imagine what the next day would look like was impossible. (Y/N) couldn’t help imagining leaving everything behind with Edward so they could finally live peaceful lives together. The thought only made her more sad. She hadn’t a clue what he even thought of her now. She didn’t even know how she felt about him anymore.

Part 2 (smut)

#the riddler x reader #the riddler #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #paul dano riddler

[hollowfyshunsuikubo]

Personal Bleach HCs

AN: Bleach is my comfort anime and I WILL die ok this hill. Also, no beta we die like Chojiro if there's spelling mistakes do NOT come after me

Featuring: As many as I can fit.

Contains: NSFW, Crack, fluff, a lil angst

MINORS DNI I WILL CONTACT YOUR PARENTS.

So, we all know that Kenpachi and Chojiro have cannonically bathed together. I honestly think that they tried to date at some point. It didn't go well, as Chojiro is very refined (and a little old) and Kenpachi is neither of those things. Kenny darling was very into rough sex and battles while Chojiro was,,,,, decidedly not into either of those things. They parted on good terms and still bath together and share self-care tips. Until Chojiro got his ass wiped by the Quincies.

Asane walked in on Soi Fon cuddling with a doll of Yoruichi once, when she was in the Squad Four healing stations. Mysteriously, when Soi Fon woke up, it was clean. Asane denies all accusations.

Kenpachi has and will continue to ignore whenever Yumichika is getting his ass pluughed. He doesn't care. He has shit to do and everyone else is sleeping or eating.

Yamamoto listens to records. Sometimes, he'll secretly send put Shinigami to the mortal realm to get him some. He likes Frank Sinatra, The Beatles, Queen, Elton John, and Paul McCarneys solo albums the most. He pays said Shinigami extra.

Komamura made his gigai look as much like his human form as possible. Some nights he'll sit and stare at it, wishing he could just look like that all the time. That is, until his Leiutenant comes in and starts yammering away about whatever er boring thing he's done that day. Then he gently puts it away to listen. His Squad doesn't judge him, and that's enough.

Byakuya once challenged Kira to a fight over who has the best hair. Shuhei has to physical restrain Kira and haul his ass to Unohana personally when Senbonzakura was released. Yamamoto is still pissed about it.

On that note, far too many Shinigami have called Shuhei "Dad" or some variation thereof for it to be a coincidence.

No matter how hard he tries not to, Urahara will cry himself to sleep. He misses the Soul Society more often than not. He makes sure to not make a noise.

Yoruichi lies awake, hoping Soi Fon is okay.

Shinji only pierced his tongue on a dare. He has his nipples done too and has little swords in them. He thinks he looks cool but Hiyori called him a whore when she found out.

Rose once hit his head so hard he only spoke in Spanish. But the only Spanish he knows is from whatever songs he listens to. Just imagine your friend desperately quoting 'Despacito' to you while in tears. Essentially, that's was Rose's life for a week and a half.

Chad has never once masturbated nor will he. He's beginning to think he's asexual. Oh, and far too many girls have confessed to him. He gets embarrassed every time and ends up rejecting them. He likes his girls with bite but he only seems to get the good girls. He's never once thought about Tatsuki that way though. He though she was a cross-dresser for months.

Orihime punched someone in the face once, and only once. They called Chad a homo and she said immediately after she'd do it again if they were ever homophobic near her.

Ichigo doesn't know what the fuck Rainbow Mafia means and thinks it's and actual mafia.

Uryu has seen porn and he threw up right after. Ryuken thought he had the flu.

Hiyori tried going to school once in the mortal realm. It took her all of three hours to put eight people in hospital, create three news rules and then get expelled. No she will not talk about it.

Tatsuki had a breakdown when she saw a fluffy cat once. It was so chonky and had a squished in face. She cried for three hours and blamed it on dust. Orihime just went with it.

Grimmjow, for me personally, is a virgin. He doesn't even know what sex is. He's not a sex God he's a little shit with sharp teeth.

On the flip side, Ulquiorria once had sex with Tôsen. Did not go well.

Tôsen was the one who suggested they bring in Orihime. He liked how she is an LGBTQ+ ally. As a gay man he appreciated her violence towards homophobic assholes.

Gin doesn't know people can be gay. He thinks it's a myth. He missed every single time when Shuhei tried to chat him up.

Aizen eats mints more than he drinks water. He likes the spicy ones. They make him feel powerful. He also eats lemons like apples. Szayelaporro is terrified of this.

Isshin Kurosaki was PEAK chaotic Bisexual for his future wife and Urahara at the same time. He still has no idea that Urahara would 110% hit that DILF ass.

#Bleach #Anime #headcanon #Personal headcannon #funny #bleach spoilers #bleach tybw #I'm not putting all those names #X reader #Bleach x reader #lgbtq #lgbt representation

[tonystarchive]

Perilous Waters (Part I of II)

Read on ao3

"Tony should have expected Peter’s eyed to be closed but the sight still caused knots to form in his stomach. His hands trembled as he shook Peter’s still form. 'Peter. Peter, wake up. Eyes open, kid.'

The complete silence in response from the usually animated boy was enough for bile to rise in Tony’s throat. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. That’s when his eyes caught the slightest trail of smoke rising from the lab entry access panel."

Following the events of Avengers: Endgame, Peter Parker temporarily moves into the Stark eco-compound to help Tony Stark in his recovery from the snap. The pair is left alone in the cabin for the first time when a flooded lab and a fried security system lead to a life-or-death situation.

Peter Parker rummaged through the fridge, searching for ingredients that he might be familiar enough with to use for putting together a meal. Besides some whole wheat sandwich bread he found in the back of the pantry, presumably for Morgan’s school lunches, he wasn’t having much luck. 

If he could just find some… bingo. Behind a large glass bottle of Pepper’s favorite brand of Kombucha, Peter found a plastic container of chicken salad, most likely from some high-end health grocery store.

Peter grabbed the container, grinning to himself. With Pepper and Morgan out on a mommy-daughter date, he was in charge of lunch for himself and Tony. Luckily for his mentor, Peter happened to be an expert sandwich maker. 

“You sure you don’t need any help in there, kid?” Tony’s voice rang out from the living room couch.

Peter’s head popped out from behind the refrigerator door, his arms full of various toppings from the produce drawer. 

“I fight crime for a living, Mr. Stark. I think I can handle making lunch on my own,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “Have you no faith in me?”

Tony looked over the rim of his glasses, “Hey, last I checked that list of spider traits didn’t include culinary expertise. Plus, I wouldn’t exactly call wheatgrass juice and quinoa a wide range of ingredients.” 

Peter laughed, using his foot to shut the refrigerator door while he set out the food items. “That’s definitely not how you pronounce quinoa, but don’t you worry. I have plenty of experience feeding toddlers, just ask Morgan.” 

Tony pointed a finger in feigned warning, “Don’t make me come over there, Parker. Just because I’m on forced bed rest doesn’t mean I can’t still take you out.” 

Peter’s eyes widened, playing into the empty threat, “Don’t you dare. It’s my first time on babysitting duty, Pepper would never let me hear the end of it.” 

He threw two slices of bread into the toaster while Tony grumbled something about Pepper not being the boss of him under his breath. Peter laughed, knowing full well that they both knew that was untrue. 

He wasn’t entirely joking about his nervousness, though. Peter had been staying with the Starks at the eco-compound since Tony got back from the medical facility in Wakanda two weeks ago and this was the first time the pair had been left alone in the house. 

Pepper had taken a temporary leave from her SI duties to take care of Tony full-time while he recovered from his injuries following the snap. It had been a long and grueling few months, but Peter couldn’t be more relieved that his mentor was finally out of the woods. 

Even so, Peter couldn’t help but be a little overprotective of the man he’d come to view as a father. They’d all come much too close for comfort to losing Tony forever and the reality of that fact still loomed heavily over Peter. 

After returning from the Blip to find that he’d already lost five years with his mentor, he didn’t want to risk losing another second. Which is why Peter was more than happy to stay with the Starks as long as they’d have him. 

Of course, Peter wanted to help Pepper in any way that he could, but a larger part of him still needed the physical closeness to Tony to reassure him that he really was okay. He just wanted to be around the man.

Peter scooped a heaping pile of chicken salad onto the bed of lettuce on Tony’s sandwich before adding a slice of tomato and the top slice of toasted bread. He cut the sandwich into triangles and poured a glass of green juice that Pepper insisted on Tony drinking with every meal, his nose scrunching up at the smell. 

He loaded the food onto the wooden dinner tray and made his way over to Tony, making a dramatic display of placing the meal on the man’s lap. “Your lunch is served.” 

Tony grinned, “Would ya look at that? Not bad, kid. You even got the slime juice and everything.” Peter laughed, turning to the kitchen to grab his own plate before returning to sit crisscrossed next to Tony on the couch. 

The pair ate in comfortable silence, happy to enjoy each other’s presence. Once Tony finished his sandwich, he placed his plate on the coffee table and leaned back. 

“You know, since I’ve finally got you all to myself, there are some upgrades to your suit I’ve been brainstorming. Maybe we can on ‘em together–”

Peter’s eyes widened with excitement, and he couldn’t help cutting in, “Are you kidding? Yes , please. When did you even have time to do that? Are you sneaking off to the lab in the middle of the night?” 

Tony laughed, swatting Peter’s arm playfully. “No, genius. I happen to have a Starkpad for those kinds of things. And a lot of spare time on my hands,” he gestured over his reclined form, “if you haven’t been able to tell.” 

Peter tried to hide his genuine relief with a chuckle. If he was being honest, the thought of Tony sneaking around in the night and getting himself hurt without anyone around to help him sent a chill down Peter’s spine. 

Tony shot him a curious look, “So are you gonna go get my tablet, or should giving it legs be my next project?” 

Peter laughed, “Watch it, old man. Is it in your room?” Tony nodded, “Should be. Chop chop, kid. I’m not paying you the big bucks for nothing.” 

Peter launched himself off of the couch, shaking his head in amusement, “You mean this is what you pay me nothing for .” He made his way down the hall to the master bedroom. 

Though when he reached Tony’s bedside table, the tablet was nowhere to be found. Peter checked around the room to be sure he wasn’t missing it before calling out, “It’s not here!”

Tony replied, “Might be charging in the lab, then.” 

Peter turned on his heels and exited the room, making his way to the door to the basement stairs. He’d only seen Tony’s new lab a handful of times when grabbing odds and ends that Tony needed back at the facility. Though every time, he was met with a bittersweet nostalgia of the days his mentor and he would spend hours on end tinkering around in the Stark Tower lab. 

Peter secretly hoped that someday Tony would suggest a lab day in the new house. When he was back to his normal self, of course. In the meantime, Peter was content just lounging around with the man. As long as Tony was happy and healthy, it didn’t really matter to Peter what they did. 

Having made it to the bottom of the stairs, Peter was appalled to find a pool of water at his feet. His brows furrowed in confusion, “What the…”

Deciding to investigate the source of the liquid, Peter raised his hand to the lab access panel. Though the minute his palm came in contact with the screen, his entire body lit up in bright hot fiery pain.

The sensation was all-consuming, whiting out Peter’s vision as he briefly registered that it must be what being burned alive felt like. Huh. 

Peter was paralyzed, limbs rigid and lips unable to even cry out in his agony. Darkness quickly came to claim his consciousness, and Peter instantly welcomed the relief. 

Ten minutes passed and a whole glass of green juice was downed when Tony started getting impatient. He used his good arm to help sit up and muttered to himself, “What the hell is taking that kid so long…”

Tony knew he shouldn’t be getting up without a chaperone but he knew Peter wouldn’t be able to hear him calling from upstairs inside the soundproof walls of the lab. And for crying out loud, a man should be able to walk down the stairs of his own house. 

Tony let out a grunt as he pushed himself off the couch, his knees clicking in protest. “The things I do for you kid…gonna break my back one of these days.” 

Looking back, Tony should have decided to get off his ass a lot earlier and gone down to get the damn tablet himself. He’d never forgive himself for that mistake. 

Opening the door to the basement, Tony peered down the staircase to a sight that made his blood run cold. Peter’s foot was peeking out from behind the wall. 

Tony felt himself go into autopilot as he gripped the railing and made his way down one step at a time as fast as his weak body would allow him, Peter’s name at the tip of his tongue the entire way. 

He resisted the urge to call out to the boy, as he didn’t think he could handle it if he didn’t receive a reply. His eyes remained locked on Peter’s completely unmoving foot until the rest of his body came into view and the air left Tony’s lungs.

Peter wasn’t moving. Peter was facedown in a puddle of liquid on the floor. He wasn’t moving. Tony fell to his knees beside him, hands useless at his sides as he urged his body to do something . 

He inhaled sharply and flipped Peter over by his shoulder. He was wasting time . He needed to do something. He needed to fix this.

Tony should have expected Peter’s eyed to be closed but the sight still caused knots to form in his stomach. His hands trembled as he shook Peter’s still form. “Peter. Peter, wake up. Eyes open, kid.”

The complete silence in response from the usually animated boy was enough for bile to rise in Tony’s throat. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. That’s when his eyes caught the slightest trail of smoke rising from the lab entry access panel. 

Electrocution. He’s in shock. Check his vitals. Check his breathing. Tony’s mind screamed at him as he quickly lowered his head to Peter’s, waiting for the rhythmic puff of air to hit his cheek. His hand landed on Peter’s neck, fingers searching for the pulse point. 

He whispered to the boy, pleading, “Come on. Come on. Come on. You’re alright. Give me something here, Pete.” Without registering his actions, Tony gripped one of Peter’s hands in his own. 

Seconds passed by like an eternity until… there . Peter’s heartbeat was thready but it was there and Tony could have cried with relief as a small puff of air brushed his cheek. 

Peter was alive. Tony could work with alive.

“Okay, buddy. There we go. You’re okay. Can you hear me? Can you squeeze my hand for me, kiddo?” Tony gripped Peter’s limp hand like it was his lifeline as we waited for any indication that the kid was with him. 

His chest deflated when he received nothing in response. Peter needed medical attention yesterday . Pursing his lips, Tony wracked his brain for the first aid procedures for someone in shock. 

Call 911. Elevate his legs. Keep him warm. Tony felt for his phone in the pockets of his pajama pants only to come up empty. “Damn it!” He’d left it upstairs. “FRI? You there?” 

Silence. All systems must have been down. Judging from the expanding puddle of water on the floor, the whole lab must have flooded during the storm the previous night. 

Tony cursed under his breath. He’d have to make the trek back up the stairs and risk leaving Peter unaccompanied. As much as the thought terrified him, Tony knew he didn’t have to medical knowledge or resources to give Peter the help he needed right now. 

His eyes scanned Peter’s still form, reassessing the situation as he went over his options in his head. Quickly, he brushed his hand through the boy’s curls to calm his racing heart.

“Okay, Pete. Let’s get you comfortable and then I’m going to get some help.” Tony moved behind Peter to lift the boy from under his armpits. He grunted while he shifted Peter’s body closer to the staircase so that he could elevate Peter’s legs on the steps. 

The simple task was much too difficult for a man who used to be able to carry triple Peter’s weight with no problem. Tony hated how useless his body was now. 

If a father couldn’t even carry his son in a time like this, what good was he?

Pushing the self-deprecating thoughts aside, Tony busied himself with talking to Peter as he arranged the boy’s legs propped up at an angle against the stairs. 

“There we go. That’s much better, huh? Get the blood pumping to that genius head of yours.” 

Peter most likely couldn’t hear a word Tony said, but the man’s flaring paternal instinct made it impossible to refrain from at least trying to offer some comfort to his kid. 

Tony had to let him know that he was there, and that he would never let anything bad happen to Peter. Though a nagging voice in the back of his mind kept telling him that he already had . 

Finally, Tony roughly pulled his sweatshirt off his back, leaving him in the white T-shirt he slept in the night before. He folded up the material and gently lifted Peter’s head to place it underneath. 

That was all Tony could do for him now. What Peter really needed from medical attention from a professional. Staying by the boy’s side any longer would only be stalling though Tony could hardly bare leaving Peter when he was so vulnerable. 

Having no other choice and refusing to waste any more time, Tony squeezed Peter’s hand. He blinked back tears as he took in the boy’s slack face and pale lips. 

“I’m gonna get help now okay? Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, you hear me?” Tony’s voice was choked up with emotion, “I’ve got you, Pete. Dad’s got you.” 

Tony raised the joined hands to his lips and placed a quick kiss on the back of Peter’s wrist. It was time to go. 

Making the journey back up the staircase was much harder with the knowledge of what Tony was leaving behind. But at the same time, he had a fierce determination to make it to the top in order to reach his phone. 

Tony’s knuckles were white as he clutched the railing for support in hoisting himself up each step. A burning sensation had spread across his chest as his lungs protested against the exertion. 

For a moment, Tony wondered if he had even recovered at all since the snap. His body might have looked better physically as the angry burn scars healed, but he was clearly not in good shape if we could barely manage to do anything other than lounge on the couch all day. He was useless . 

By the top step, dots had begun to cloud Tony’s vision as beads of sweat trickled down his neck and back. He collapsed to his knees on the floor, gulping in air through his mouth to steady himself. The living room was feet away. He couldn’t konk out now. 

Resorting to crawling the rest of the way, Tony finally made it to the coffee table, his entire body buzzing. He was just able to grab his phone before sprawling out on the carpet in defeat. Call Helen. Call Helen Cho. 

Clumsily, Tony was able to unlock the device with shaking hands. He was eternally grateful that he had made Helen an emergency contact a few months after meeting Peter for situations like this. Though he never imagined he’d have to call her for an incident that wasn’t Spider-Man-related. 

As the woman’s smooth voice rang out after the second ring, Tony exhaled deeply with relief. “Tony. It’s been a while. How is recovery treating you?”

Tony couldn’t get the words out fast enough, struggling to form a sentence with his dry tongue. “Pete’s– Peter. He needs help. Now.”

Helen’s tone immediately turned serious, having grown quite fond of the superhuman teenager over the years. “What happened, Tony? I’m on my way. He’s staying with you at the compound, correct?”

Tony’s eyes were closed as he lay on the floor with the phone pressed to his cheek. “Yes. He was electrocuted. The lab–I guess the lab was flooded and he was down there getting something for me and he’s–he’s not waking up. I think–please just hurry. He needs help.”

Tony could only make out a few of Helen’s words amidst the thundering of his racing heartbeat in his ears. “Tony, breathe. –coming. –Pepper? You need–, Tony. –ten minutes.” 

Helen was coming. Help was on its way. Tony could finally breathe again. The phone fell from his cheek as his hand went limp from exhaustion. 

Tony focused on the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he pictured Peter alone on the basement floor. He prayed the boy’s heart was still beating. He couldn’t accept anything else. Hang on, Pete. Help is coming. Hang on. 

#irondad and spiderson #iron dad #peter parker whump #peter parker #iron man #tony stark #peter parker fic #tony stark angst #irondad fanfiction #irondad fic

[soltiana]

tristamp ep 11 ramble

I almost forgot that if I had longform (IF INCOHERENT) thoughts about something I could just...blog about them?? i'm still getting used to having this power again. cut for spoilers of course, this ep was so fucked (positive). I have thoughts/hopes for the finale too but I'll keep those to myself so I don't get hooked on them lol whatever will be will be.

meryl and wolfwood exchange pretty standard pleasantries. it's obvious ww is going to come back to try to help vash despite his contract. i still think his chances of making it out alive are pretty good, but i guess we'll find out.

then we're directly thrown into the pussy juice tank. like. last week the episode ended on knives throwing vash into what looked like an oversized version of a plant bulb container, so I was like haha he threw him into the pussy juice funny :) but tristamp pointed directly at me and was like this person knows exactly what we're doing here. what a smart person. yes. the entire tank is pussy juice and it's FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH KNIVES' EGGS. there are plant "buds" everywhere, following up on conrad's discussion last week about how knives has been "helping" him create the perfect living creatures, like himself, but the conclusion they had both come to is that knives' offspring were missing an ingredient, what humans call a soul. the new plant lore dropping is that while humans originally created plants they don't quite understand where their powers come from, other than a "higher source" (god).

tesla vash and knives are what conrad and other plant scientists call "independents" because they have:

souls (from the higher power, presumably)

wills of their own

biological non-independent plant mothers (who died giving birth to them)

and, according to conrad's analytics, while knives "gate" is receptive to the higher power from god, vash's "gate" can not only receive but transmit this higher power (souls) as well. in other words vash is. just. chock full of sperm. he's a humanoid vector for getting other creatures god pregnant, so since they couldn't air vash literally fucking knives pregnant, they settled for him inseminating knives' dozens of pre-laid eggs like a horrifyingly beautiful deep sea nature documentary.

so to get back to the meat of the episode, knives connects his body to vash by stabbing into him with his chains of knife tentacles, and immediately after losing his senses from this black roots begin to grow out of the points the two brothers are connected. the roots seek out each of the eggs, and glowing energy begins to transfer, through knives' manipulation, from vash into each of the eggs.

then we take a trip inside of the twins shared headspace and watch knives brainwash vash one memory at a time, erasing his past for him so that he can be wiped completely blank. when this process reaches a critical point, vash's external body starts reacting defensively - this part is speculation but i think he senses that knives is seeking his memories of rem, and starts instinctively re-creating her before it even happens. so new roots start to grow, this time straight down, following vash's will instead of his brother's, and through the rest of the episode this set of roots expands and becomes a monstrously enormous tree literally in the shape of rem, covered in bio-luminescent blue geraniums.

this is also the moment where instead of knives seeking vash's memories, vash begins visiting knives' instead. vash begins appearing both in memory form as well as his current dream self, which implies a subtle growing grip that vash has on the situation, despite being at 90% synchronization physically. so it's vash who starts entering doors in the ship that leads to knives' memories, beautifully complimented by the fact that the next one he accesses is him solving a problem knives can't figure out on his own. we get our tesla reveal moment and it's fucking incredible.

birthday confirmed canon july 21 happy birthday boys. it also says they were born in the year 2455 so let's just hang in there a couple hundred more years and say hi to them.

vash looks into another door that rings with mechanical sounds, but when he tries to enter it knives takes him instead to the rec room, where they both seem to be recovering from their discovery of tesla. the mechanical door memory is skipped, either for vash, the viewer, or both. in a reversal of their manga conversations where knives is more manipulative and vash is more depressive, knives despairs of human wrongdoing while vash urges knives to have faith in humanity's ability to change. knives interprets this to mean that vash, who has no powers of his own, feels the need to bow to human might and expectation out of self preservation, and makes up his mind to eradicate them so he doesn't have to. adult knives appears in the memory he's curated to explain this, and to tell vash once again that the fall was his fault, since knives did it all for him, to protect his vulnerable twin from human cruelty.

this is the point of mind break for vash, and knives, taking advantage of that vulnerability, becomes empowered and moves in to finally remove rem from vash's memories. symbolically, as soon as he does, vash's red coat carbonates, and knives synchronization (the tristamp version of melding from the manga) reaches 100%. with no memories left to access, we return to knives in the physical world, quietly elated, wishing his brother a happy birthday since believes he has literally re-made him in his own (rem-free) image. while knives and his plant eggs all give off light in the pussy juice tank, no part of vash is glowing anymore, he only reflects light.

then (through vash's power) knives opens the final pussy, the opening to the higher plane where plant power is drawn from. this is the moment that vash's mega-rem geraniums begin to bloom as well. and the plant eggs, still attached to vash's insemination roots, open, revealing non-independent female plants that are connected to vash via their enormously swollen pregnant bellies.

conrad is revealed to be dying, a hostage knives took as an adolescent to fulfill his wishes. this is not news but it is sexy. the knives conrad relationship in tristamp is weird and really good. knives finally disconnects from vash, leaving his motionless shell behind in the pussy juice tank as he crosses through the gate vash opened for him. all the while, vash's giant rem tree is growing, literally suffocating the entire city of july and killing or driving its people to flee. at the moment that knives seems about to make contact with the core he believes to be the source of their power, vash's tree rem fully takes form, and blooms.

#trigun stampede #plantcest #my rambling is very crude #it's text only no images but yknow #i'm crass #this is mostly an episode summary with my projections and opinions sprinkled in #spoilers #do not click if you don't want spoilers please

[leelei1980]

Part 18 - Beauty and the Freak

Let’s play a game🌶️

Mature 18+ Smut Minors DNI

Veronica

" This definitely does not qualify as a scary movie Princess ." Eddie looked down at the movie case as he pulled it out of my backpack.

" It has ghosts in it Edward." I put a bag of popcorn in to the microwave and punched in the time, then hopped up and sat on the countertop as I waited.

Eddie walked over and stood in front of me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in close." It's Ghostbusters, Sweetheart. "

" It's a compromise. You get ghosts and I get laughs, win win."

He leaned in and kissed my neck. " We probably won't be watching much of it anyway."

" Why is that Mr. Munson?" I couldn't help myself,closed my eyes and sunk into him. His lips were so warm and soft.

" What happens every time we watch a movie? We make out or we have sex."

" Not every time." I backed away from him, eyebrow raised. " Do you think I can't resist your charm? "

A slow smile spread across his face and he ran a finger down my cheek. " You haven't been able to so far."

" I love your confidence." I smiled right back at him. " I think we should play a little game. Let's see who can hold out the longest, resist temptation. No physical contact."

He chuckled." I am up for a challenge."

The microwave beeped and I unwrapped myself from him, and he backed away a couple steps. I slid down the counter and looked up at him. "Your going to lose Munson. "

He smiled down at me and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. " Good luck Sweetheart." He grabbed the bag of popcorn out of the microwave then strutted into the living room  giving me a perfect view of his tight ass , and then sat on one end of the couch.

I smiled. This was going to be fun. I opened up the refrigerator door." Hey Baby, would you like a soda or a beer?"

" Sure, I'll take a Coke."

" Coming right up!"  I slowly bent down  to grab a couple sodas from the bottom shelf, and felt his eyes on me. There were two things Eddie Munson couldn't resist, my ass and my breast. I pretended to shuffle around containers on that shelf , stalling so that he would get an eyeful. I grabbed the sodas , slowly stood up and closed the door. I picked up my backpack that had a bunch of candy in it for movie night, then walked over swinging my hips, laying it on pretty thick, and handed him his coke.

He smirked." Thanks doll face." He winked at me. Jesus.

I sat on the opposite side of the couch , one full couch cushion between us and he laughed.

" Afraid you're not going to be able to resist the urge to touch me?"

" I always sit on this end and you know that." I put my drink on the stand beside the couch and opened up my backpack, took inventory then pulled out a box of skittles and threw them over to Eddie.

" Thanks Sweetheart." He smiled.

" Welcome baby." I pulled a tootsie pop out of my bag and unwrapped it. "Cherry, my favorite." I brought it to my mouth and licked it, put it into my mouth and swirled it around then pulled it out with a pop. I flicked it with my tongue then licked it again. I looked over at Eddie and smiled when I saw him swallow hard. " How many licks does it take Ed's?" I watched him watch my mouth so I licked my lips.

" The world may never know sweetheart." He blinked, snapping out of his daze then was back in the game again. " Its warm in here, are you feeling warm? I'm feeling warm." He stood up and slowly pulled his shirt up over his head, his ink on full display, his abs, his cute little belly button,his pants hanging low on his hips, the V pointing down to his-" You alright Princess?" He threw his shirt on the floor and walked over in front of me, grabbed the stick of my lollipop popped it out of my mouth then stuck it in his. "Yummy."

" Well that was rude."

He threw his head back and laughed, god, I wanted to kiss his throat. I'm going to fucking lose. I need to pull myself together.

" You know your right, it is toasty in here. " I grabbed a scrunchie from my pocket and put my hair up into a messy bun, Eddie once told me that there was something about the act of me putting my hair up , or putting on lip gloss or putting in earrings that he found sexy, I would use that to my advantage. I tugged on the collar of my shirt, " I think you had the right idea baby." I sat up on my knees and untucked my shirt , then made direct eye contact with him while I unbuttoned my shirt all the way . I bared my shoulders."So much better." I ran a hand down my neck, my chest. I watched his eyes follow my hand then settle on my breast, he licked his lips. I pulled off one sleeve then the next then threw my shirt to the floor. " There! Now I'm comfortable." I looked up through my lashes and smiled.

He shook his head and smirked. " So we are getting comfy now Doll face? Sounds great." I watched his hands go to his belt, he unbuckled it then slowly pulled it through the loops and tossed it away . " Now that is better."

I wanted to touch him so fucking bad, I wanted to trail kisses all over his body, but I was too proud. I knew he could see it written all over my face. I plopped back on the couch , grabbed the bag of popcorn and decided to stuff my face as a distraction.

Eddie looked at me with a shit eating grin on his face. " What's the matter darling? "

" Your so annoying."

He laughed again." Awww, baby , just touch me, I know you want to, then this stupid game will be over."

" I wouldn't give you the satisfaction." I huffed, then put some popcorn in my mouth. " I'm sitting here drooling over you and you barely even flinched. I used all my tricks. I thought once the boobs came out it was game over but no. I'm clearly revolting."

" You look so fucking cute when you pout."

" But not cute enough to touch. Any other time I swear to god you would be all over me."

" Your goddamn right I would. But you see Princess I am trying to show you that I have self restraint, that I am not the only one in this relationship that is a fucking horndog. " He took the lollipop out of his mouth and pointed at me ."You are just as guilty as I am. I don't know if you have ever noticed, Sweetheart, but 70% of the time you are the one making the first move. I am just innocently laying there ,head on your lap and you lean down and kiss my neck, or nibble on my ear. There was that one time you straight up reached over and grabbed my junk. That was fucking bold babe, and I loved it." He finished off the tootsie pop.

I smirked. " You think I don't know how I get when I am around you? I am sitting on your couch with my tits out, cramming popcorn into my face to distract myself so that I don't attack you."

He twisted some hair around his finger and brought it over to his mouth, started chewing on it." What would you do to me if you weren't cramming your face full of popcorn?" He knelt down in front of me, big brown eyes searing into my soul.

I put down the popcorn and sat up straight in front of him. " You want to know? Alright." I bit my lip then slowly looked him over, my eyes stopping at his." First I would cover your mouth with mine, your lips would taste sweet,like cherries from your pop.Then I would wind my hands in your hair, give it a little tug, because I know that you like that, pull your head back and kiss your jawline, suck on your earlobe, kiss your throat, work my way down. Tonight I'm feeling a little feisty, I would nibble on your shoulder, I bet you would like a little bite, wouldn't you?"

Eddie swallowed hard and nodded.

" Thought so. I would run my fingernails down your back, not enough to scratch but enough to give you chills. Then I would kiss every single tattoo you have, slowly working my way down, my hands unbuttoning your jeans ."

" That sounds fucking amazing Princess. " He was staring at my lips, I could see his breathing quickening.

I leaned forward a little more  and whispered." How about if I were to slide my hand down your pants , wrap my hand around your cock and stroke away. How does that sound baby?"

Eddie groaned , then leaned in and whispered , his breath giving me goosebumps."How about I push you back on the couch , strip off the rest of your clothes and bury myself deep inside you? Make you cum so hard your legs will be shaking the rest of the night? How does that sound Sweetheart?"

Fuck, I'm done. A little whine slid past my lips. I slowly backed away and saw a smile spread across his face. He was just about to say something when I covered his mouth with mine, slid my tongue into his mouth. He did taste like cherries. He matched my intensity, this tongue tangling with mine. I moaned into his mouth, the pent up sexual energy from the night finally being released. My body was humming and I hadn't even touched him yet. We pulled apart gasping for air.

" You win." I nuzzled into his neck and started kissing it , working my way down, lightly biting his shoulder, as promised.I heard him groan.

"Fuuck, Sweetheart." He reached behind me and unclasped my bra, slid it down my arms and threw it to the floor. He pushed me back onto the couch.

" Baby , pants, take off your pants." I demanded as I slid my own off, not wanting to waste any time. I wanted him, needed him right now.

He quickly took off his pants, his dick springing up, hard and ready. I bit my lip, I was ready.

" Eddie," I whined." Please fuck me."

" What do you want me to do baby? Say it again."

" I want you to fuck me. "

He carefully lowered himself down on top of me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me again softly then pulled away, kissed my neck, my chest , latched onto my breast, teasing my nipple with his tongue, then working his way over to the other. He was lingering, taking his time .It felt so good. I ran my fingernails lightly down his back. I felt him shiver.

I felt his hand in the inside of my thigh, spreading my legs wider." Your so wet,"

He slid the tip of his cock up and down my slit, practically making me whimper with need. " Are you ready?"

" I'm so ready baby please." I begged.

He lined himself up with my entrance the slowly slid himself in.

I moaned. I was so full, but in the most wonderful way. He slowly pulled out then buried himself into me again, this time further, making me gasp.

" You good?"

" So fucking good. Keep going baby, please."

" You feel so fucking good. You take it so fucking good." He picked up the pace. " My sweet girl, taking me in so well."

I arched my back , wrapped my legs around him to pull him closer. His head dipped down and he kissed me again. I wound my hands through his hair pulled. He moaned into my mouth.

He pumped harder and faster relentlessly and I could feel the wave of pleasure wash over me, hitting me hard. I cried out and a few moments after I felt Eddies body shudder, and he called out my name, I kissed his throat as he climaxed knowing that it would only intensify it for him. He collapsed on top of me and I held him close as we caught our breath.

" That was so worth it , even if I lost."

Eddie turned his head to look down at me." Neither one of us lost Darling, I would say we were both winners. " he leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose, then lifted himself up on his elbows.

I smiled at him then gasped." Oh god Eddie , I left a mark on your neck! I'm so sorry!"

" A hickey? Really?" He laughed." Baby, it's fine."

" I'm sorry Ed's." I reached up and gently touched it with my finger.

" Really Sweetheart it's fine. I will wear it like a badge of honor. Besides, it is more important that I don't leave one on you, Lucy would never forgive me if she found a mark on her little girl."

" I think your shirt will cover it. I don't want the boys to see it. "

" You think that they will think of you differently if they see this little love bite? "

" Maybe? I want them to think of me as the funny smart girl, not the slutty girl that leaves hickeys on her boyfriends neck."

" They would never think that." He brushed a hair out of my face and kissed my lips. " I'm totally showing Harrington though."

I laughed. " Are you serious?"

" Yeah, but like casually. Like I'll pretend to scratch my neck and pull down my collar. He's going to be impressed."

" Your such a dork."

" But you love me."

" I do."

Eddie rolled off of me and helped me up. I ran off to the bathroom and came back wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants. He had gotten back into his tshirt and boxers.

" Your ass looks way better in those sweatpants than mine does. So round and full." He slapped my ass as I walked by.

" Sure , now you'll slap it." I plopped back down on the couch and got comfy." It's kind of funny how this whole thing started because you didn't want to watch Ghostbusters. But now that we got the sex part out of the way..."

" It's ghost and Bill Murray time, I know." He popped in the movie and pressed play, then he curled up next to me ,laying his head in my lap.

" I promise I won't nibble on your ear."

" I mean if you really want to.." he looked up at me and smiled. " Will you play with my hair though?"

" Of course lover boy. "

" Your the best. "

" It's the least I can do, I mean you did deliver on the shaky leg promise."

He laughed." A promise is a promise."

#eddie fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson

[mioyeo]

I’m a Dad ?! : 3# ONE LAST TIME ?

Just to be left with a baby all of the sudden when your just a growing teenager yourself isn’t easy

Pairing : player!Choi San x Ateez

Warnings: this chapter includes mentions of , heartbreaking scenes, almost occurring anxiety attacks, injuries , character deaths appearance , funerals , Blood , character passing out , ambulance , lots of crying

Word count : 1,4k

This chapter was inspired by the song below , and the whole series inspired by the drama on some parts but everything is a little different

Seonghwa had finally let San sleep together with Samuel under the conditions to let the door open and that he had to take care of him immediately

It was hard because Samuel cried a lot when he has been glued to Seonghwa since he was born

And it was an understatement to say that he was hurt and wished to have that bond with his own son , who was actually lately opening up to his dad and getting more comfortable with him

" Did you bath him already? "

San was currently laying down looking dazed with his puffy eyes as Seonghwa kept asking him questions

" Yes I did , and everything else I needed to "

" San please stop crying , you alread- "

" Seonghwa are you that naïve ? "

Seonghwa looked at him surprised at the harsh tone he just voiced out towards him

" San it's just that it hurts me- "

" It's not you who lost someone you loved that also left you with a child to take care of ! "

The boy wiped his face and sat up on his bed

" It was just yesterday that I parted physically with her , even thought we broke up it hurts more because I was left with a bigger memory "

" San please if you need help we are all her- "

" I am tired of crying every day and history repeating itself , I'm a freaking dad for goodness sake how could she le-eave me "

He dropped himself back down on his bed and started shedding tears again

" San please let me talk now will you ? …. thank you now what I wanted to say was that if you think it's to much I recommend some therapy "

" I don't need no damn therapy, just bring her back to me ! I ca-ant do this alone "

He started crying uncontrollably making Seonghwa look at him and start shedding tears as well from the heartbreaking sight

" San you know that's not possible "

Samuel started crying silently since they accidentally woke him up

" N-no baby don't cry daddy's sorry "

The younger quiet down as his dad picked him up and hugged his tiny body while trying to control his own crying

" San please consider taking therapy this is taking a big toll on you , besides school is starting soon again you can't just- "

" I already talked to the principal and they recommended for me to start studying online "

He sniffed and laid the sleeping baby back on his bed than sat back on his bed sighing

" I have to go and pick up something from the grocery store for Wooyoung so if you need anything call me or the other boys for help "

Seonghwa wiped his tears and patted the younger on the back before going out

Now it was him all alone again slumped back into the darkness

He started crying uncontrollably again after closing his eyes , all he could see was her cold peaceful looking face inside her casket , she looked so different from the last time he saw her that one night

Her beautiful long curly hair was now in a pixie cut , her beautiful sparkly eyes and smile now death and never to be seen in public eye ever again

It was all vivid to him the way he screamed, jumped and threw a fit while screaming his lovers name to come back to him

The boys had to calm him down because it was to heartbreaking for them to keep watching

His parents who watched couldn't contain themselves and teared up at the sight of their son missing someone so much , they had met jasmin before because San took her to a family gathering and they all grew to love her

The most important reason was because she loved their son to the moon and back , took care of him and never let him in need of anything else with him under her care

They hugged each other's while they listened to San screaming loudly for the guys to let him go in order for him to go and wake her up since she was just sleeping peacefully and waiting for him to kiss her Goodnight

From her friends point of view they just couldn't dare to say anything anymore, they shed tears screamed and mourned her dead

But nothing could top the overwhelming amount of feelings that poured out of the body from someone that lost their partner permanently but was left with their partners other half to take care of

San began breathing hysterically not being able to forget the way her once warm welcoming lips just felt like nothing else but coldness and a bitter sweet goodbye

He didn't notice the others screaming for his name as he started loosing consciousness, he didn't notice Wooyoung's voice crying out to him and the way Hongjoong stroke his head and patted his cheek to wake him up

He didn't see Seonghwa crying as he kneeled in front of him , nor the way Mingi dialed the ambulance while almost having an anxiety attack because he had hit his head after falling and coming into contact with the hard corner of his bed and started to bleed

Neither was seen the way Jongho rocket his son back and fort who was crying violently since he could feel the tension in the room and that something wasn't alright

The only thing he could notice the presence of was , something standing in front of him and looking at him with their red eyes as tears fell

Yeosang sniffed as he opened the door for the ambulance to take the now unconscious body of San that blacked out from reality some minutes before their arrival

" We'll take him to hospital as fast as possible since his puls is struggling to keep in touch "

" Seonghwa go with them we will trail after you guys , Mingi grab a bag with some of sans clothes and meet me downstairs at the car "

The paramedics rushed San out and Seonghwa sniffed as he trailed behind them

" I'll stay home with Samuel , he needs to calm down for now see you guys later "

Yunho grabbed the baby from Jongho and rocket the child that bursted out crying again as he saw the others rush out and the house getting quiet

He sat down and rocket the boy who looked at him with his eyes full of tears

" Come on Sanie daddy's gonna be ok "

Yunho couldn't help but burst into tears of his own , ever since yesterday at Jasmines funeral the whole house was out of energy when they got home

He couldn't understand why this happened but he knew that it was going to be a hard path for all of them to move on especially San

Samuel started closing his eyes and fell asleep on his uncle's warm embrace as Yunho kept caressing his head softly after wiping away both of their tears

The boy yawned but just as he was about to fall asleep with the baby in his embrace, something started ringing and he gently laid the baby on his blanket that was always ready on the floor for his nap time for when they where in the living room spending quality time together

Yunho made his way towards the room where the sound was coming from and surprisingly it came from the storage room

It was coming from inside a box , he grabbed it and pulled it out before retrieving the item out

It was San's late girlfriends phone that ringed repeatedly , he hesitated to answer but in the end he declined the call only for them to call again making his nervous so he ended up answering and stayed quiet

" Jasmin ~ mommy is gonna visit you soon "

Yunho gasped and started crying again

" Jasmin sweetheart are you there ? "

Yunho hung up and started crying into his palms , he felt so broken to know that someone just lost their child and had no idea about it

The phone kept ringing and he looked at it as the ID said " My star 🌸💕"

He was really fighting himself if he should give out the news or let San do it , because he himself wasn’t mentally ready for it

He sniffed as he looked at the innocent baby that slept peacefully

“ I’m so sorry Sanie , how could you already notice something if your only just an innocent infant that’s being taken care of ”

Yunho slowly laid himself down next to the baby boy and fell asleep without being aware of someone watching his every step as they cupped their mouth to muffle their cries even thought nobody would be able to hear it

May your dreams come true ~

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #choi san #atiny

[fictionkinfessions]

(Warning: this is going to be a lot heavier than most of my other confessions, and it contains mentions of lookism and ableism, disability erasure, verbal/physical bullying and the resulting trauma, and other uncomfortable subjects! Sorry if this is too much.)

Looks like I'm now just using this blog as a place to vent about my personal gripes with the Vocaloid fandom, huh?

Jokes aside, I really want to talk about a huge issue I see with how people portray me. It's not *as* common as the whole memelord thing, but I'd argue that it's a lot more harmful since it doesn't just affect me, but it affects people in real life who have birth defects, scars, skin conditions, or anything else along those lines.

If you take a look at any art of me drawn by Mikuma (my official artist!), one of the first things you'll notice is that my face and eye are... a little fucked up. I've seen a lot of different interpretations in the fandom of what they may be. For me personally, it's actually a birthmark that goes allllll the way down the right side of my body (and there's also a few lil spots on my left side), and that's what gave me my all-red eye as well, but I know that's not canon-canon, and I enjoy seeing the different ideas people have, especially if they're another me! (Fellow Fukases RISE UP)

However, the problem comes when people decide that these things are "too hard to draw" or "look too ugly" or whatever, so they just. Get rid of those things and draw me like Some Guy™. I don't look like that irl, but it still makes me extremely fucking uncomfortable for reasons that I'll clarify in a minute.

Like I said, I was born looking like this. When I was little, a lot of other kids were either scared of me and avoided me like the plague or they just straight-up bullied me, all because I looked the way I did (well, there were other factors too, like my autism or the fact that I'm trans, but the birthmark was most of the issue). I hated myself for such a long time because people acted like and told me that I was ugly, so it made me feel ugly, too. Whenever I tried to talk to someone, I felt like I had to cover my face so they wouldn't get grossed out and run away. I'd get anxious to the point that I wouldn't be able to talk because I didn't want to accidentally draw attention to myself and have people stare at me. It was awful.

Eventually, it all culminated in something that I honestly don't remember too well. I think I was about 8 years old, it was during recess, and there was this group of other kids that I was talking to, for some reason. Things were fine for a while, but then (HUGE TW FOR PHYSICAL ABUSE IN THIS NEXT PART!!!) one of them threw me onto the ground, and they all started kicking me. Most of it's a blur, but I clearly remember them screaming at me to die and calling me a fr//k, over and over again. They just wouldn't stop. I had to be dragged away from them. I'm convinced that they would've killed me if they had the chance.

Obviously, that affected me a lot. You know how I have a cane in my canon design? That's because my spine got all fucked up from that incident, and it still hurts to walk sometimes, so I use that to help when my back acts up (ironically, I have chronic back pain irl too, but it's less severe and mostly due to genetic reasons). I can't hear the word fr//k even in passing, or I start panicking because of it. It's especially bad in-character, but it also makes me uncomfortable irl.

What does this have to do with people drawing me without my birthmark and red eye? Well, basically, what I'm trying to say is that by getting rid of those things, they're erasing the trauma that I've had to deal with because of them.

Not to mention, you think it's bad for me? I've only dealt with this kind of thing in-character. The bullying I've dealt with irl was for completely different reasons and nowhere near as bad. I can only imagine how people who actually have to deal with this kind of harassment feel. Every other Vocaloid released previously and since have basically been flawless picture-perfect anime characters, and when someone like me finally comes along, someone that people with deformities/blemishes can potentially see themselves in, people bash me for being "ugly", "overly detailed", or "too hard to draw". How are those people supposed to feel about that? At the end of the day, I'm just a singing computer and I can't say anything about this, but it goes a lot deeper than that, and I know my pity is the last thing people want, but it makes me sick. It's not just about me; it's a bigger problem within not just the Vocaloid fandom or even fandom spaces in general, but society and its toxic beauty standards as a whole.

Wow, fuck, sorry for the essay. This issue is obviously extremely important to me, so I wanted to go into as much detail as possible. I hope everyone reading this has a nice day/night/whatever time it is where you live!

-Fukase (please tag as otherhearted (although I'm starting to think it's a bit more than that?), #👁❌️🔴)

🪵

#fictionkinfessions #otherhearted #👁❌️🔴 #fukaseotherhearted #vocaloidotherhearted #lookism cw #ableism cw #abuse cw #bullying cw #fandom issue #fanart issue #violence cw #physical abuse cw #mod party cat

[silver-heller]

Spector 👓 (PT 1.)

Pg-13 | One-Shot | Mordecai | Based on a dream | Read it on Ao3

Mordecai grunted as he pushed himself up against the train. His side grazed it, shoving him away before he could grasp onto the handle at its side. His leather-gloved hands merely slipped off of it, as if it were nothing, black coat billowing behind him as he spun out of control. He dug his boots into the gravel, heels becoming heated as he pushed until he was facing forward once more.

Yet, despite the pain, now not only in his hand but his feet, he had no choice but to continue, huffing for air as he sprinted after the train. Pebbles kicked up from under his feet, slick surface threatening to take him under several times, but he just used the momentum to push himself forward. 

He could see his entryway clear as day up ahead. Even with the blur seeping into the edges of his vision, it was too enticing to pass up. A part of the train had an open compartment, containing several wooden boxes but also plenty of room for him to slip on, granted he could make it in time. 

He let out a huff, pushing against the burning of his legs as he sped up. He held his uninjured arm out, grasping for it. But, each time, it seemed so close, just to avoid his grasp by a foot or so. I have to go faster. His lunges flailed helplessly at the thought, already struggling to keep up with the intensity of his feet.

Yet, before he could push himself further, mentally and physically preparing himself, he was distracted by something out of the corner of his vision. He turned, eyes widening at the sight, mouth agape and sending puffs of air into the atmosphere. 

There was a wolf, running just alongside him. They were completely white, and yet, appeared silver in the moonlight. They too were running along the train, bounding down the hills to join him on the dusty side of the tracks.

He stared for a moment longer as the canine’s eyes met his, piercing right to his very core and causing his whole body to shiver. At first, he thought he should be worried, arms shooting up to protect himself from what he expected to be a lunge. But the wolf made no move to attack him, just watched, encouraging Mordecai’s legs to quicken one step at a time.

He snapped out as he remembered, looking back and the compartment was there, right beside him. It seemed keeping in pace with the canine had been just what he needed, and he was thankful, despite having no idea what it was doing out here of all places. A smile made its way onto his lips, showing his pearly white teeth until he realized.

It was further than he would have liked, and he wasn’t just about to make the same mistake twice. He gritted his teeth. There was no escaping it, he’d just have to jump.

So, with a deep breath and nerves made of steel, he threw himself forward and took the leap of faith. His eyes closed shut as his life flashed before his eyes, getting a hint of the track momentarily coming closer in his vision. He gritted his teeth, just waiting for the pain, a part of him thinking he deserved it, another too nostalgic for such dark thoughts. 

“You know, you’ve always scared me with your capabilities, darling,” he remembered saying to the young man, sitting just across from him at the table, “They make me wonder sometimes where I truly stand.”

There was a loud clunk as Mordecai’s back hit something, flipping his legs over and putting him in a rather awkward position.

He opened his eyes, finding himself hurtled to the ground of the train compartment, safe and sound. After a moment of lying on the steel, he sat up. It took some effort, grunting as, with a swoosh, he threw himself up, legs flinging off him and onto the floor as he sat more properly. His feet winced at the impact and he held back a hiss at that stinging pain.

He let out a breath, relaxing. That is, until he heard that bark. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the sound, bumping into one of the boxes in the process. Spinning around, the wolf was there, sitting directly beside him. Apparently, his lungs hadn’t experienced enough abuse as, in his shock, he let out a surprised yelp…or perhaps, scream was the more apt description.

“AAAH!”

#lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy fanfic #self shipping #self ship fic #human mordecai heller #humdinger👔 #silver😺 #based on a dream #aka the fics where Mordecai gets a pet wolf #tw wolf #tw dog #tw near death #themaninthekeyboard

[kyrodo]

I had words that I would think up, basic search terms that would reflect what I'm feeling or what I'm thinking. Like dark furryart or emo furryart or miserable furryart, etc. Usually I put both together or I'd put furry instead once I exhausted the search, or wolf, cat, etc. And this was a habit I got into very close to when we started "communicating" that I eventually turned into a subtext medium that would most likely only make sense to me. Something I was privy to doing a lot of.

Partly due to uncertainties I myself had but also because I'm a very openly private person. Meaning I don't always necessarily want people to look too hard into what I'm thinking or saying, but I still wanted the emotion or thought expressed somewhere that would be translatable if someone really cared to. So there usually was some kind of pattern to it that could be reverse engineered, but the level of obscurity I made worse and worse. Like with my fa favorites. And sometimes I'd have periods where I try to bury whatever message they contained with art that either was objectively good, or expressed a particular imagery or theme. The flute thing for example. I used to do the same with my retweets. And having a stalker in a way validated those habits, because otherwise no one had any chance of finding whatever meaning I was trying to convey. Since these emotional expressions through art that I couldn't personally draw was also a way to destress as an alternative for someone who couldn't draw with the same level of consistency and saw it as more of a chore when actually trying to draw myself.

Much like how my head canons when I wrote were an alternative for someone who used to be a roleplayer but had nowhere to do that anymore. These were adjacent actions that I could do instead. And at the time I found any level of comfort I could find through things like that and just let myself indulge in it. No matter where ot would lead me I was not in the mood to put a stop to it. I thought I was going to be stuck at peloton forever even though I went to school to be a game programmer. My back was going bad because of it. I didn't know what future physical complications I would have if things continued and things were not looking good for me on any front, socially, physically or career wise.

So I didn't care if people understood what I threw out there. But I made art in the most alternative ways possible. I formed stories with my rants and my likes and favorites. Like a collage but with even less effort. I just wanted whatever was on my mind to be pushed out there in any form, understandable or not. But without the added benefit that someone was at least trying to understand it, that form of destressing would've meant nothing. So I kept coming back hoping you wouldn't stop checking up on me. The feelings obviously played a part in that too, but there were multiple reasons I couldn't just up and leave permanently. All the people that consoled me, that I described these things to directly didn't end up doing the same thing themselves. They listened and that was it. And I guess that was for the best honestly. I probably would've lost some friends that way. You on the other hand didn't count as one.

With you I actually had a reason to revisit all these random moments in my life. Since you weren't there it meant I had plenty of content to get through while waiting for my mind and emotions to stabilize. All the better if they related poetically in some way. A small comfort perhaps but at least it was you and not someone I knew. If I was going to lose someone to my ramblings, I'd rather lose someone I never had. Even though I was half-assedly trying to burn nearly every bridge so I could start over, you bore the brunt of it instead of them. I'd rather lose a stalker than my friends, even when I was actively trying to discard them. Becoming this alternative conduit for my stresses that would allow me to probably be able to get back to my friends later, you played your role extremely well.

So about this mastermind you were trying to take down, where the fuck is he?

The extent you went and still managed to get the short end of the straw, it's fucking hilarious. Imagine a world where people talked out their problems and set boundaries there instead of hacking each other like dipshits. You skipped way too many fucking steps. You didn't even fucking try.

And I to this day struggle to understand the world of expectations that you enforce or how anyone would survive in it. All I understand is that as long as you don't like someone for any reason, they are completely and utterly fucked whether it's fair or not. You're white and you're doing stuff like this and what the fuck do you want me to call this? If you're trying not to be lumped in with bastards like those you're doing a great fucking job. You are doing absolutely everything right.

Am I the only one who looks at every subtext you ever shared and appreciates how fucking ironic it is? Oh wait, you conveniently forget every single thing you do. So I guess it never happened.

You can bet. Not a single person in my life will ever get away with the same kind of shit you tried to. If they try to gaslight and pretend they never did anything, and they just retweet things or they just meant it as a joke, I will fucking end them. Because this is so fucking toxic, it is so easy to be taken advantage of because of this, and I am fucking done. I will never let anyone harass and hurt me under Red's nose again no matter how they try to fucking do it. I will not give anyone free reign to make my life a living hell again!

Whenever there is a bad actor anywhere in my life I'll yeet them off the fucking stage. There will be no beating around the bush or pussyfooting. I am not afraid to cut people off when they prove to be a waste of oxygen. Less drama, more getting back to my fucking life. I don't care what way they try to guilt trip me or what posts they share trying to pretend I'm a bad person for blocking someone. I'm not gonna wuss out of cutting someone out that tries to hurt me ever again. Especially when they're doing the kind of shit you were doing like actively harassing me with memes and subtext. Why wouldn't I want them gone?

I don't understand how people can see posts about whatever shit they do online while they're actively being the picture perfect stereotype and not do a single thing to change their behavior. It isn't a problem for me, so what the fuck is yours? I am alone in my witnessing of all this and yet I have so much social leverage now that you're completely fucked. Because I put so much effort into ensuring I do everything right after a social conflict and you do everything absolutely fucking wrong. I didn't spend the last few years sitting on my thumbs. What about you asshole?

Not once did I ever pull the kind of shit you did just because I didn't like someone. It's not my character trait. Because I'm not a total bitch. For you though that's the only reason you need to hurt and abuse someone. You are an actual fucking psychopath and you don't belong in society. What hurts the most is the stupid fucking kaleidoscope I had on you for a while that appears to be greatly misguided and undeserved. If I'm "not hard to love" what's that make you?

I only let people betray me so many times. I found a better king. Not once did I ever see Choskey cuss when he's angry. Not once have I ever seen him truly mad. I never feel like I'm walking on eggshells around him. He is softer than you in so many fucking ways. Cuter. Sweeter. A bit of a ditz at times but I can live with that. I can't deal with you. I can't deal with people who want to "kick someone's teeth in" or whatever the fuck. Who want any sort of target that they can hate on mostly just for clout and not because they actually genuinely care. Get fucked. Also, heard you like fallout boy lyrics. Thanks for the memories asshole.

There's only so much shit you can put people through before they snap, don't ever test that limit again. No more of this edging between friend and enemy. You've already lost my respect but the least you could do is not justify it further.

Instead of choosing to let the dust settle when the book closed, you chose to re escalate things for no other reason than to get back at me and I will never let you forget that. You made choices and none of them had a fucking shelf life. How the fuck are you going to shut me up now. If hacking me and blackmailing me is all you had then you chose the wrong fucking person. Here's an idea, how about the next time you have a problem with someone you fuck off!? Who knew it was that fucking easy!? It's not hard asshole!

I can poke so many fucking holes in every little thing you did and you couldn't even debunk my allergies. I'll never get over how much you fucking shat yourself when all that time you could have just talked to me in the first place. That is the most pointlessly tragic shitshow I've ever had to witness in my life. And frankly I don't know why you didn't know any better. I don't know how you failed so fucking hard.

Must do wonders for the ego huh? Damn am I fucking glad I'm not you. I walk away from that heavily scarred but I didn't have to hide shit. You got an entire social world to collapse on you because you spent no more than a hot minute when it comes to considering revenge. What kind of whiny little shit would take things as far as you did!? That's what you get for crying wolf. You fulfilled your own stupid prophecy. You got fucking wrecked asshole.

[weallwantabetterlife]

The physical Death of Jesus, take the 1 min to read, if you don't cry, you may not understand who He really is. I pray the Holy Spirit awaken in each soul that reads, in Jesus Name! Amen!

For the next 60 seconds, set aside whatever you're doing and take this opportunity! Let's see if Satan can stop this.

At the age of 33, Jesus was condemned to death.

At the time, crucifixion was the "worst" death. Only the worst criminals were condemned to be crucified. Yet it was even more dreadful for Jesus. Unlike other criminals condemned to death by crucifixion, Jesus was to be nailed to the cross by His hands and feet.

Each nail was 6 to 8 inches long.

The nails were driven into His wrist, not into His palms as is commonly portrayed. There's a tendon in the wrist that extends to the shoulder. The Roman guards knew that when the nails were being hammered into the wrist, that tendon would tear and break, forcing Jesus to use His back muscles to support Himself so that He could breathe.

Both of His feet were nailed together. Thus He was forced to support Himself on the single nail that impaled His feet to the cross. Jesus could not support Himself with His legs because of the pain so He was forced to alternate between arching His back then using His legs just to continue to breathe. Imagine the struggle, the pain, the suffering, the courage.

Jesus endured this reality for over 3 hours.

Yes, over 3 hours! Can you imagine this kind of suffering? A few minutes before He died,

Jesus stopped bleeding. He was simply pouring water from his wounds.

From common images we see wounds to His hands and feet and even the spear wound to His side... But do we realize His wounds were actually made in his body. A hammer driving large nails through the wrist, the feet overlapped and an even larger nail hammered through the arches, then a Roman guard piercing His side with a spear. But before the nails and the spear, Jesus was whipped and beaten. The whipping was so severe that it tore the flesh from His body. The beating so horrific that His face was torn and his beard ripped from His face. The crown of thorns cut deeply into His scalp. Most men would not have survived this torture.

He had no more blood to bleed out, only water poured from His wounds. The human adult body contains about 3.5 liters (just less than a gallon) of blood.

Jesus poured all 3.5 liters of his blood; He had three nails hammered into His members; a crown of thorns on His head and, beyond that, a Roman soldier who stabbed a spear into His chest.

All these without mentioning the humiliation He suffered after carrying His own cross for almost 2 kilometers, while the crowd spat in his face and threw stones (the cross was almost 30 kg of weight, only for its higher part, where His hands were nailed).

Jesus had to endure this experience, to open the gates of Heaven, so that you can have free access to God.

So that your sins could be "washed" away. All of them, with no exception! Don't ignore this situation.

JESUS CHRIST DIED FOR YOU!

He died for you! It is easy to pass jokes or foolish photos by e-mail, but when it comes to God, sometimes you feel ashamed to forward to others because you are worried of what they may think about you.

God has plans for you, show all your friends what He experienced to save you. Now think about this! May God bless your life!

If you are not ashamed to do this, please, follow Jesus' instructions. He said (Matthew 10:32 & 33): "Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before My Father in heaven; but whosoever denies Me before others, I will deny before My Father in heaven."

Thank you Jesus I could never repay you for carrying the cross to calvary for me . THANK YOU LORD !!!!

[alheria]

Fresh wind on a hot day (6/9)

-Luca, you are scaring me. -Jim sighed heavily, looking at the shockingly empty fridge containing only beer, a half-empty jug of milk and some Chinese leftovers. -I was gone only three days, what the hell do you eat while I’m not here?

-Coffee, cereal and takeaway. -the older man shrugged, not even briefly gazing up from the newspaper. -I was fine before you moved in, will be fine when you move out.

-How are you still alive?! -Street shook his head in disbelief. To be fair, he used to be like that, not caring about food too much, but ever since he started spending time at Buck’s, who enjoyed cooking, realised that eating properly is a game changer in terms of physical and mental health. -Also, there is no more cereal, I checked.

-Oh, good to know. -nodded the other officer. -Write it down on the list.

There was no list. Jim quickly found some post-it notes and made one, with a little more items than just “cereal” on it. He felt a little guilty for often leaving his best friend alone, and as much as considering moving in with the firefighter. It somehow wasn’t right, despite them having a strictly platonic relationship. Like if he was abandoning his family, even though it was obvious one day their living arrangement would change.

Possibly soon.

They were talking, hypothetically, about Street slowly merging into Buck’s apartment. Which seemed too fast, after barely four months of dating, however not that unreasonable. So while he thought about permanently staying with his partner, the Omega began to fill the designated closet space, one clothing piece at the time. This activity was actually forcing him to visit the Alpha more frequently, since his current household had severe laundry issues. He actually had to go there after today’s shift, having no clean shirts anymore.

The shift the two cops were nearly late for, neither watching the clock, thinking the other one was keeping track. And they were lucky because the team had to roll only five minutes after starting the work day.

There was a bust of a human trafficking ring in progress, planned in detail by the PD, although a last minute development have occurred, when once on the move, they found a strange tunnel coming from the target facility and realised the group on some point had built a few escape routes that were not an original part of the building, therefore weren’t on the blueprints. Which meant they needed more people than anticipated to cover all exits.

Jim was “fortunate” to get himself a creepy ass underground corridor lightened by flickering bulbs. He slowly walked down the makeshift stairs, and cautiously continued forward, unsure what’s waiting at the end, hoping the passage is not too long ‘cause it made him feel like he’s in some horror game.

The officer passed a corner, instantly noticing an oddly placed curtain covering the left side. Before he managed to inspect it, a large man came flying through it, rage clear in his wild eyes as he hit the opposite wall. The perp ran straight into the first shot, crushing the cop under his significant weight as he attacked him. Gun dropped somewhere on the floor above his head, too far to reach without being able to move as strong hands firmly grabbed his neck, holding him in place. Struggling with oxygen deprivation, Street did the only thing he could think of, punched the gunshot wound on the man’s shoulder, who immediately screamed in pain and backed off abruptly. Aware it might be his only chance, he threw himself in the gun’s direction. This movement did, however, leave him on full display. The assailant noticed a perfect opening and instinctively bit the Omega’s exposed nape. Then fell down lifelessly onto Jim’s chest when a bullet pierced his brain.

Completely ignoring the sharp, pulsating pain, and the whole situation in general, like on autopilot, the officer got up, wiped his face and calmly pushed forward to continue his job. He cleared the small room hidden behind the curtain, crossed the very long corridor to its end, and eventually left the building where half of his team was already waiting, done with their routes. Street joined them quietly, feeling too nauseous to talk. Deacon was the first to look at him, his eyes instantly went wide open.

-Street, what happened?! -he shouted, hastily approaching his blood-covered teammate and anxiously checking him for any visible injuries while he stood there absently as his mind began to drift away. -Oh god. Oh fuck no. I need some help over here!

From there, everything went a little foggy. Someone grabbed his arm and pulled towards the ambulance, where he got sat down, several raised voices surrounded him uncomfortably tight. He couldn’t understand a word though, sounds blended in together, overpowered by his heart pounding extremely loud whilst the brain fought hard not to panic.

A stranger bit him. Again.

But this time, it was so much worse because in addition to losing a chunk of dignity, he entirely lost Buck’s scent, which got replaced with a sickening stench belonging to that dead motherfucker.

It felt unbearably wrong to not have that familiar fragrance linger on his skin, as if he was suddenly naked, completely exposed to this dangerous world roamed by vicious predators. Not only that, he couldn’t stop wondering what his partner will say when he smells a different Alpha on him, sees the forced mark.

The painful mark a paramedic was now gently cleaning, observed carefully by the whole squad. Luca seemed to be holding his hand, and it helped to take the edge off, bring the muted senses back with a comforting touch. He was really lucky to have such caring teammates, who didn’t mind he was a bit more vulnerable than most of them. Other teams weren’t so understanding, from what he’s heard.

-Street, you good to walk? -Chris asked softly once the medic gave a green light. She was quite shaken up knowing her closest friend got hurt in this nightmarish way for a second time in his life. It shouldn't have taken place even once.

-Yeah. All good. -he nodded, letting Luca assist him with getting up onto slightly wobbly legs, which, thank the heavens, somehow managed to reach their vehicle.

During the ride back no one was in a mood to talk, so they stayed silent. Neither of them really knew what to say to not make things any worse until they entered the armory and Hondo finally spoke up.

-Jim, go home. -he ordered.

-I'm fine. I just need a minute to calm down. -Street disagreed, heavily sitting down on the bench, his knees too weak to keep standing.

-You got attacked, it's not fine, take the rest of the day off. -demanded the squad leader, his mind already made up. “No” was not a viable answer. Not today.

-I can work, it's fine! -the officer hissed through a clenched jaw. -No biggie. -he whispered, hiding his spinning head in shaking hands, a nauseous wave hitting him once again.

He wasn’t fine.

The wound sting, heart raced, lungs rejected air, and skin itched as if he was covered in dust. He felt dirty. And angry at himself too, because he should’ve been more careful or wear a stupid neck guard or just bond with his Alpha already, so he never loses his scent again. What a fucking disgrace it was, being branded like some cheap piece of meat.

-Can you give us a moment alone? -Chris asked in the background, and everyone seemed to obediently leave the room, aware there is nothing they can do. She then sat down next to her best friend and reassuringly squeezed his shaking thigh. -Jim, being through this before, you know the drill better than anyone else. The smell is not going to go away anytime soon, and will mess you up too much to think about anything else. Buck is not working today, have him sort it out for you, it's gonna take only a few minutes, and you'll be all good to return tomorrow. Do you want me to call him to pick you up?

Chris was right. There is no way he could keep going like this, and a solution was extremely simple, now that he got blessed with an amazing Alpha boyfriend.

-N-no. I'll drive. -Street sighed, trying to muster strength to get up when a painful realisation hit him once again. -He bit me Chris…that motherfucker…oh god…it's so disgusting…fuck, I need some fresh air. -he groaned, and quickly left the building, with no intention of returning.

That nasty smell had to go.

---

The call Buck unexpectedly got from Chris a few hours after he woke up to enjoy his day off, boiled the blood in his veins. He expected pretty much anything to happen to his boyfriend working such a dangerous job, but certainly not being bitten by some random piece of shit.

Waiting for Street's arrival, his Alpha instincts were restless as he anxiously paced around the kitchen. There was no way to predict what to expect. It was a second time occurrence, thus the affected man would either know how to deal with the emotional toll right away or get inevitably crushed by both old and fresh trauma. So when the door finally opened, and the extremely pale Omega slowly appeared, still wearing work clothes and looking like someone died, his heart dropped to the ground at this miserable sight.

-Jim…-Buck started talking, but didn’t get to finish. The officer hastily crossed the distance between them and wrapped himself around the concerned firefighter, who quickly crushed his partner in a tight embrace. For a few seconds he shook violently before the sense of security ceased the tremor. It was awful to see that usually strong, high-spirited person in such bad shape, but at least he was back home, safe. -I’m so sorry sweetheart. -he murmured, pressing a lengthy kiss to the short strands.

And that’s when it hit him.

The smell.

Ever since they began seeing each-other more often, his own scent started mixing with Street’s, creating a very unique, amazing fragrance. It was a natural biological reaction, signalising that an Omega is in a relation with an Alpha, thus is not currently “on the market”. If the pair wasn’t bonded, this would fade after a few days of being apart or could be instantly removed by someone else putting their mark. Like in Jim’s case.

The attacker’s stench was truly repulsive, immediately made Buck feel nauseous, while the anger at being unable to sense himself on his boyfriend clouded his view. He hoped the fucker who did that was dead.

-Can you make it stop? -the cop asked quietly, his voice so weak it broke the firefighter’s aching heart. The Alpha calmed down right away, brought back to reality by intense distress. This was not about him. Someone incredibly dear to him was suffering, helping them was an absolute priority.

-Of course. Of course, I can. -he whispered softly, showering Jim’s head with tender kisses, trailing them down towards the injured neck. Buck didn’t necessarily want to look at that but had no choice, gently removed the dressing, and froze, raw fury ignited in his chest at the shocking sight. The bite was deep, horribly bruised, surely painful, and so, so wrong. Not wasting any more time, he bit into the disinfectant tasting flesh, quickly leaving a second, even deeper mark over the horrific proof of violation.

Despite the sharp pain it caused, Street relaxed momentarily, feeling the disgusting smell slowly evaporate from the veins, get forcefully replaced by that beautiful warmth, and familiar affection. His whole body went numb, if strong arms didn’t support him, he would’ve probably fallen to the ground, overwhelmed by the rapid changes to his system.

They didn’t move for a good ten minutes, silently enjoying themselves while the disrupted emotions steadily returned to somewhat normal levels, considering the gruesome circumstances.

-Better? -wondered the Alpha, loosening the hold enough to look into his partner’s slightly glossy eyes. He wasn’t ready to let go completely, not yet.

-A little. -the Omega nodded before resting his cheek on the taller man’s shoulder, loudly inhaling the comforting fragrance. -I still feel his hands on me. -he added, cold palms sneaking under the hem of the firefighter’s shirt, making him shiver at the chilly touch when they moved around, stealing heat and caressing the shivering skin. Suggestively.

-That can be helped too. -Buck hummed, capturing Jim’s lips in a passionate kiss. Oh, how he loved their coping mechanism was sex. Talking about trauma and issues always seemed way easier after having a rushed, hot intercourse. As the tongues danced, he swiftly guided them towards the couch, neither interested in going upstairs. He sat down, pulling the officer down to kneel over him on the soft cushions. They quickly got rid of the upper clothing, bodies warming up impossibly fast. The Alpha skilfully unbuckled the belt and freed the growing bulge to the cop’s satisfaction, who moaned prettily into their joined mouths before having to part for much-needed air.

-Please just fuck me already. -Street huffed, brushing through his boyfriend’s hair while they looked each-other in the eyes, gazes foggy with arousal, hearts racing. Buck’s dick instantly hardened hearing that desperate request amplified by the sole sight of this unbelievably sexy man panting heavily as he begged to be fucked.

-Yessir. -the firefighter growled, tugging on the open pants, which soon met the floor, promptly followed by soaked underwear. Seeing the large, twitching in anticipation cock, he couldn’t stop himself from steadying those sturdy hips and licking that beautiful shaft, causing the Omega to whine loudly in pleasant surprise. -I’m sorry baby, can’t fuck you just yet. -he grinned mischievously before grabbing that beautiful penis, and swallowing it nearly whole.

The sound Jim made must’ve been surely heard in the entire building. It was so erotic, Buck’s mind glitched for a second when it went straight to his neglected dick. Somehow, this turned out to be the most challenging blowjob in history, listening to his partner’s shameless moans, he was on the verge of coming in his sweatpants, completely untouched. Too impatient to get some action, but not breaking the merciless rhythm, the Alpha reached between those muscular cheeks and pushed one finger inside the older man. He almost choked to death once Street spilled deep in his throat, cursing fiercely as a powerful orgasm rolled through his body.

-How dare you disregard your elders! -hissed the officer the moment his senses returned, making the firefighter laugh.

-I’m not sorry. -Buck smiled, leaning up to steal a quick peck off his boyfriend’s unamused face. -But don’t worry, I’ll lose my mind if I’m not inside you in the next sixty seconds. -he added, and not waiting on any response, swiftly shifted their positions. The Omega got pushed onto the couch’s backrest, his naked ass on perfect display, admired by the abnormally horny Alpha from his spot right behind. He hastily removed the annoying clothing and in one smooth move buried himself in the wet hole.

Pressed into those warm, smooth insides, Buck could clearly see the overlapping marks as the cop’s neck bent when he bit the cushion to muffle the euphoric scream. It was infuriating, seeing his precious baby violated in such a barbaric way. Not needing to think about this, his hand squeezed the nape before he started thrusting to cover the unpleasant view. This gesture forced out a loud whimper from Jim, for whom being touched in this exact place by his Alpha felt absolutely heavenly, despite the stinging pain.

-Harder. -he demanded, voice muffled by the couch. The firefighter wasn’t sure if the request referred to neck pressure or the penetration, so he put more effort into both those things, earning himself a series of ecstatic moans driving him crazy. -Harder! -Street barked, and Buck obediently delivered. He was literally lying on his partner at this point, brutally fucking into the tight ass, and nearly suffocating him with his clenched palm. Somehow, regardless of being in this animalistic state, the Alpha remembered they are, in fact, having sex in the living room, and managed to grab the pulsating tip in time, preventing it from ruining the couch once the orgasm hit them simultaneously.

The release was so intense, their brains shut off temporarily whilst burning bodies vibrated, overpowered by raw pleasure for what truly felt like hours. Exhausted beyond reason, the couple barely had any energy to separate, although knowing well enough they needed a shower asap, they dragged themselves to the bathroom to sit on the floor under the warm spray in hope to recover sometime soon.

Not wanting to risk infection, before leaving the steaming bathroom Buck insisted on disinfecting the open wound and putting a new dressing. His heart was heavy as he did so, but seeing Jim in a good mood -ranting something about Luca dying from starvation- made the experience a little easier. Which didn’t mean the officer was doing perfectly fine, the tough subject of him getting assaulted had to be eventually addressed, preferably today.

-I think we should talk about it. -he said, sitting on the bed and watching half-naked Street search the closet for an already worn, nicely scented hoodie. He’d always wear his Alpha’s clothes after having a shitty day. Adorable, however slightly concerning that it was a habit. -What do you think?

The Omega didn’t respond right away, he put on the chosen hoodie, approached his partner and pushed him on his back, so he could lie down next to him, their hands joined on Buck’s chest.

-I wish we didn’t have to. But I guess bottling up feelings is not the best idea. -the cop sighed, eyes focused on the ceiling. -It was the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. -he revealed, squeezing the larger palm a bit firmer before continuing. -Scarier than the academy incident for sure, because when that perp bit me, I killed him just so you know, and the adrenaline ran out, I realised I couldn’t breathe. There was this horrendous, rotten smell all over me, and not a trace of you. It truly frightened me. Your scent disappeared, and it was so wrong I nearly lost my mind, it felt like I cheated on you somehow, still feels that way to be honest. You have no idea how relieved I am to sense it again, to have my invisible comfort and safty back. -Jim concluded, turning his head sideways to look at his boyfriend, who absently stared at the ceiling in an attempt to not get emotional over the painful statement. -Buck…are you less angry now?

-What? -the firefighter frowned, confused by the odd question.

-Earlier, you kissed my head and got really angry for a moment there. -clarified the officer. -It was the smell, wasn’t it? You were furious I let some stranger mark your property.

-You’re not my property. -the Alpha reminded sternly. He hated when Street used that term to describe himself. -And you certainly didn't let him do it on purpose.

-I’m your Omega, it’s the same thing. -the older man shrugged nonchalantly.

-No, it’s not. -Buck barked before taking a deep breath to calm down. -But you’re right, partially, at least. I was mad that someone bit you, but not because it hurt my ego or something. It's just…when I couldn’t smell myself on you, it felt like a break-up. You always smell like me, Jim, always. So when you suddenly stopped…it, um, frightened me, because I know losing you would break my soul. There isn't even a word in existence describing how much you mean to me right now. More than anyone else, to be honest. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. -he whispered. unable to hide those strong feelings anymore. -You're my everything. -added, finally turning towards his partner, who gazed at him strangely.

The long silence that followed, despite the unbroken eye contact and their hands still holding tight, made him wonder if perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. And then, Jim spoke:

-I think I’m in love with you.

The firefighter instantly froze in shock. Love? No...this was not happening. This could not be happening. People do not confess to him. In every previous relationship he was the one putting major emotional effort, not the other way around. Why the hell was he being confessed to?! He should be doing that! It was great of course, he desperately wanted to be loved, but being disappointed so many times already, he stopped considering it a valid possibility a long while ago. Perhaps he was hallucinating. Or dreaming. Or finally losing his mind. Or all of that. There was simply no way the most perfect for him person he wanted to spend his whole life with just said they were in love with him, because that’s a crazy thing to say. Insane even.

-Nah, forget that. -Street shook his head, bringing his boyfriend back from spiralling into madness. -I don’t think, I am in love with you.

And oh, Buck’s heart exploded with pure joy.

-That’s good. -he smiled, happy tears clouding his sight. -That’s actually very good, because I am definitely in love with you too.

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