#this is all my sleepy brain could produce

[instinctsqz]

"Now--you listen here," Sebastian tried to speak firmly. The words were serious, but the embarrassed chuckle that left him as soon as he spoke did little to make him sound threatening. It didn't help that a now muddy Sebastian was on the ground, one foot caught up in his stirrup and the other resting on the ground. "Just lend me a hand, okay? Or a foot since I could use a new one right now," he joked, keeping his sense of humor in tact despite his dignity having gone up in flames the moment his horse got spooked by a field mouse scurrying across the main road through town. Moving to rest a hand over his eyes ( a meager attempt to hide himself from anyone who witnessed his clumsy ), Sebastian wiggled his caught foot as best he could to try and loosen it again without any luck. "C'mon--my ego and tailbone are bruised enough. Don't let me suffer anymore."

#jackson;start #open to anyone! #this is all my sleepy brain could produce

[bcyhoods]

hi! can I please request the prompt “caressing the other's cheek softly, hoping to wake them up that way” with steve and shy!reader? maybe it’s their first time waking up together and he’s just so in love?

thank you for the req nonnieeee <333 need him in my bed immediately, thanks! | 0.5k gn!reader

Steve can’t seem to put his finger on it.

Maybe you were born with some sort of super power. Like you’re able to induce serenity with just a touch of your fingertips, a timid press of your lips to his cheek. Or it could be something spiritual. Something about your souls being intertwined due to something living in the stars or the color of your aura or something.

He doesn’t really know. Waking up to you in his bed for the first time makes his brain all fuzzy.

The sun spills in through his blinds and covers every inch of your exposed skin in golden warmth. Your hair is wild, splayed out over his pillowcase — which he’s sure now smells like your shampoo. You’d slowly inched apart from each other during the night, but your hand still rests over his torso, accidentally bunching up the material of his shirt around your fingertips. The longer he lets himself look at you, the harder his heart thrashes around in his chest.

He doesn’t really want to wake you, but he so desperately wants to talk to you. With a tentative hand, he trails up your arm to cup your jaw. His thumb gently passes back and forth over the swell of your cheekbone, reveling in the softness of your skin. A blithe grin hijacks his mouth once he sees you beginning to stir.

“Hmm.” Your hand is gone from his torso to grasp onto his own hand, still just barely caressing your face. You blink a few times, adjusting to the brightness filtering in when you see his face. Warmth settles on his freckled cheeks and paints his skin pink, and it only gets deeper when you give him your own sleepy smile. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” he answers, voice raspy and deep.

He’s looking at you like he can find an answer in your eyes. You might have the entire universe hiding in your pupils. Definitely something akin to stardust shines in them, he swears.

His attention makes you feel lightheaded and your skin burns beneath his touch. You squeeze at his fingers and pucker your lips to fruitlessly keep your nerves at bay, but it produces a kind of upside-down grin that makes him beam and chuckle. You giggle and ask, “What are you doing?”

“Nothin’. Just wanna look at you.”

“Ugh,” you groan and roll your eyes, but the wide smile on your face reveals your secret. Steve Harrington makes your stomach flutter and makes your heart beat so erratically that you can feel it thump and shake against every inch of your body. That’s why you’re quick to shield your face with your hands, muffling your nervous giggles in your palms.

“Oh, stop.” Peeling your hands away from your face, he brings them up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, unceremoniously. The smacking sounds make you laugh, and when he notices, he makes sure to kiss them louder. He stops the assault on your hands to cup them together and press them against his chest.

His heart beats as quickly as yours does.

“I liked sleeping with you,” you tell him with a gummy smile like it was confidential.

“Yeah?”

You’re immediately recognizing the double entendre, but he’s too lovesick to notice. You consume his every thought, it’s impossible to get his mind working accurately. So instead of teasing you, he whispers

“I liked sleeping with you, too, honey.”

#been hoarding this in my drafts cuz i have mixed feelings 🤨 #also seeing exactly where i lost steam is so funny #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #joe keery

[lu-lus-duckies]

You all need sleep and I may not be the best sleeper but here's some tips. these especially go out to @xxx-angie @nunalastor and @the-aprilfools-bitch . I will be in your closets making sure you all get good sleep >:(

rest your eyes from tv and phone. Just blue light in general. instead you could listen to music or podcasts. those are much better.

try sleeping between 2-4 PM at the latest (which means either that or EARLIER). your body produces the most melatonin (the thing you need to sleep) at those times. It will be much harder to fall asleep later than that

Take a warm bath or shower. If I didn't have a bad relationship with liquids, I would be doing this all day. the warmness helps drop your body temperature and generally lower temperatures signal to the body that it's nighttime and consequently bedtime.

no coffee if you drink some, unless you got ADHD (angie). I've heard caffeine works backwards for people with ADHD

If you grew up in a home with the TV on constantly or just generally had some noise around you in your childhood whenever you went to bed, TURN ON SOME NOISE. It is what happens with me and I can't sleep without some noise.

It would be nice if your bed was only used for sleeping, but I know that's not happening lmao

midgnight snacks disturb your sleep. try to avoid those, since your body starts metabolism during nights. it doesn't need more food to process. but if you must grab a snack, it's best to choose something that's easily digestible and maybe even increases the production of melatonin. some of these are milk (obviously), bananas, nuts, eggs, tea, vegetables and such.

Don't rely too much on meds, otherwise your body will get used to it and will depend on it for you to go to sleep. Instead you could try pavlov effecting yourself with something similar that can always be available. For example, before going to sleep, perform a certain action (I used this method in school and my version was patting myself on the head or touching my cheek with the hand opposite to it). once you've done this enough times before sleep, your brain will associate that action with sleep and you'll get a little sleepy if you do it again. This takes a long time though, A month maybe I have stopped doing this, but if nothing else works this can be an option. Though this isn't perfect lulu side rant: tried to condition myself with a ring once. was really bad with doing homework on time, so everytime I was doing homework I would switch a ring I wore to my forefinger. And this was only used for that situation. I never moved my ring to my forefinger for any reason at all. Thought this would work, but the only conditional response I got was that everytime I moved that ring to my forefinger I started thinking about homework and not really doing it.

If that doesn't work, try changing your enviorment. It doesn't have to be drastic. for example: sleep backwards. lay your head where your feet usually are and your head where your feet usually are. or maybe try sleeping on the floor. I am paranoid about sleeping in other peoples houses but this is the reason I tend to fall asleep anyway

If your lack of sleep is caused by anxiety (like intrusive thoughts or thinking about the future), try listening to a mindless podcast or a youtube video. It will help distract from your thoughts and give you something to focus your mind on, plus most content these days tend to try and turn your mind off to get that sweet sweet watchtime.

If all else fails, you can try to tire your brain out I guess. that's my method for extemely bad sleepless nights. I start reading because that's the most tiring activity I can do in bed and usually I fall asleep in the middle of it.

#lulu facts #lulu is delulu #lulu is caring for you all so he can be the most mentally ill #lulu lore

[the-fluff-piece]

Sanji x reader modern day AU part 2:

I just want some f**ing coffee

Part 1: I just want some f**king...wine!

Part 3: I just want some f**ing sleep and comfort

Check out my other stuff:

My Masterlist - Short and Multichapter stories

Headcanon Masterlist

The date you were on the other night was disappointing - but the food was great! For some reason though, a chef from the restaurant took an interest in you. After crashing your date, he realised you were living right next to him all this time - and vows to court you until you're his! In this chapter, Sanji will bring your hungover ass some delicious breakfast and you'll get to know him (and his lips) a little better

Saturday morning. You woke up late, two glasses of wine really did knock you out, how pathetic. In uni, you could easily have double that and not even noticed. Sleepy and with a light headache, you check your phone - no message from Thomas. So he didn't like the date, either. No surprises there. Still stung.

You peeled out of your blanked for your morning ritual: a cigarette and coffee on the balcony. You caught your reflection in the mirror: yup, looking tired as fuck. Bags under your eyes, hair like a bird's nest and the general vibe of something that had existed for too long at the bottom of a handbag. Enough to scare the shit out of the judgy older lady from across the street when she would see you. It were the small things that made you happy.

You shuffled to your kitchen where you made a horrible discovery: Coffee was empty. Even scraping at the bottom of the tin can didn't produce enough for a cup, so you grumpily slipped into your fluffy robe, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and shuffled on to your small city balcony.

You lit one and watched the people on the street: an old lady with a cute dog, they were often walking by, so adorable. Joggers. Should do that, too. Sometimes. Not now. Woman on bike, looking fab. Damn, I should buy some of those workout pants, too. They look comfy! Hot blond guy with shopping bags, waving at someone. He looks like a snack. Cute cat yawning. Should get a fuckton of tho- wait a minute, you knew that guy. That was Sanji from yesterday.

Yet another cigarette became the victim of slack jawed staring between the two of you, sailing down to the street two stories below. Poor thing.

"Hey princess, I brought you coffee! On the house!" He shouted, grinning from ear to ear. "I got breakfast, too!" He had the inflection of someone luring an animal using treats. It worked well.

Your caffeine deprived brain couldn't fathom what was happening down there: the cook strolled towards the building and you lost sight of him. Shortly afterwards you heard a knock on your door. You ran inside to look through the peephole in the door.

What the fuck.

"Hey princess, I didn't know what you liked so I brought the classics!" his cheery voice could clearly be heard through the door and you saw his clear, blue eyes looking directly through the peephole in a fish-eye perspective.

"Can we maybe start at...WHY ARE YOU HERE? HOW?" You screamed at the door.

"I saw that you lived here, too! What a coincidence ! I just wanted to apologise for yesterday. Please let me make breakfast for you!" His muffled voice from behind the door sounded excited and way too cheery for this hour.

You listened to true crime, you were half sure that the guy was a crazy murderer, killing lonely women and possibly cooking them. But there was also a strong dependency on coffee and you were sure that you wouldn't make it to the supermarket in your state.

And it would be rude to refuse his offer. You removed the doorchain, unlocking the door. Sanji stood there with the widest, happiest grin you have ever seen, holding up a shopping bag full of groceries and with a duffle bag strapped around his shoulder. He was wearing fine pants and shoes and a very comfortable looking hoodie. The moment his eyes caught your sight they lit up with delight and a flow of barely discernible syllables bubbled from his mouth.

"There you are JUST LIKE I REMEMBER I will make you the best breakfast OF YOUR LIFE ❤❤❤" he mumbled like an old lady talking to her kitty cat. This weirdo was definitely not feeling dangerous enough to be a murderer. You stepped to the side. He moved past you into your apartment, looking around with open interest.

"How cozy! I love that chair - oh I know that book! Wow you have lots of plants, I somehow cannot keep them alive." He looked around like a tourist in the middle of a historic little town, slowly making his way towards your kitchenette.

"Uhm, it's not much, and it's not exactly cleaned up..." you apologised. Surely he was used to grade A equipment.

"It's fine, I have the same one, our apartments are quite similar." He explained, not showing the slightest sign of shock over your dirty little kitchen. "Besides, I brought some stuff." He sat the duffel bag down.

Humming to himself, he began unpacking and cleaning simultaneously like it was the most normal thing for him to operate in your kitchen. Dazzled, you fell into your comfy armchair and watched that tall, slender and overall handsome guy in your kitchen. He unpacked various ingredients and began rummaging through your cupboards, eventually finding a bowl and beginning to mix something. He even made a little show of flipping bottles around in his hand like a bartender or cracking eggs open with one hand. You felt a bit useless.

"Can I help...?" You asked, unsure of what you could even do.

"No, need. I'm cooking for you!" He turned around with a wink.

"Oh...ok." you said, getting up, feeling your headache again.

"I'm gonna...take shower" you decided and went to your small bath.

"Yes take your time! I'll call you when it's time to eat" he assured you.

Getting into the shower stall, your body slowly woke up. The hot water and flowery scent of your soap relaxed and refreshed you, soothed the ache in your head. Haven't had a man in here in...four years? And a handsome one at that. How strange. The realization of what was happening in your apartment at this moment was hitting differently now that you've awakened.

There is a hot guy. In my apartment. He's cooking breakfast for me.

Fuck, I look like shit. Fuckfuck! You decided to put as much effort into this as you dared. Quite frankly, you were out of practice. You washed your hair with the special expensive shampoo you once bought and never really used, you tried to peel and moisturize your face like you wanted to every day, and you put on a light perfume, that also just sat there for special occasions like today.

You snuck to your wardrobe in the bedroom. Outfit - what do you wear to a spontaneous breakfast with a guy who wears business casual on a saturday morning? A Blazer and blouse? The dress you wore to your sisters wedding? Standing in front of your wardrobe, you noticed that it was much too full but you still had nothing to wear.

You reminded yourself that he had already seen you at your (almost) worst, everything was an improvement. Deciding on a casual outfit, you grabbed a shirt and a pair of slacks and peaked into your living room/ kitchenette. Sanji had a towel over his shoulder, whistling as he cut a vanilla bean open. You came to stand next to him at the counter to look what he was doing. His sleeves were rolled up and he wore a black apron.

"Hey princess, there you are!" He greeted you as he took some cream out of the shopping bag and put it on the counter.

"Do you have to call me princess all the time?" You asked. "It's kind of making me uncomfortable."

"If you don't like it, I'll stop, mademoiselle" he told you with a wink. You rolled your eyes at him and he chuckled.

"Do you have something like a whisk?" he asked even though he already had a look around your kitchen.

You pointed to a cupboard above you.

"Thank you, mademoiselle" he said and smiled at you. As he moved to open it, you became once again aware of how tall he was. He reached over your head, getting extremely close and you caught the scent of his cologne.

He took out the kitchen utensil and began whisking the vanilla in a bowl together with sugar and the fresh vanilla. It was fascinating to watch his practiced movements and his joy while cooking.

He reached into his bag again and set a device made of metal on the counter, shaped like a bottle but with a few applications. You knew that thing from that one cooking show, but the name eluded you.

"Know what that is?" Sanji asked when he saw you staring.

"Of course" you say with your most confident voice, "that's a cream whipping thingy" you concluded.

He laughed from the bottom of his heart.

"Exactly! I'll have to tell my colleagues at the baratie about it's new name." He joked while he filled the device of unknown designation with the cream and screwed it shut.

"You know you can also use it for soup" he explained as he put it into your empty refrigerator.

"A whipped cream soup?" You asked and Sanji laughed again. His happiness was infectious.

"I'll show you another time." He promised as he started to prepare coffee beans with a small hand operated grinder. Another time? He was planning other times already?

"So, since you were on a date just yesterday I'm guessing you don't have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?" He tried to ask casually, but his eyes were darting nervously as he spoke.

"No, I don't" you honestly answered and heard him exhale with relief.

"I bet the guys are all crazy about you!" He mused, watching your reaction. You snorted at that.

"Yeah, so crazy they're all running away" you commented, trying not to sound bitter and failing spectacularly. You added: "seriously, I think I am not made for dating. They all want to be 'just friends', guess I am that type of girl."

"Good to know that other men have no taste in women." He said happily. "Makes it easier for me" he continued. He cooked coffee now, pouring the hot water carefully over the powder. It smelled delicious. While the water turned into precious coffee he began setting the table. You were already reaching for the coffee pot like the junky you were when he caught your wrist. Even his hand felt soft.

"It's not done yet! I'll serve it to you when it's perfect to drink" he told you, turning your hand around in his and breathing the faintest kiss onto your wrist, causing you to blush violently.

"Just sit down while I add some finishing touches. You must be so hungry" he mused.

You wandered back to your comfy armchair on shaky legs, the tingle of his touch still fresh on your skin, looking at the beautiful cook working his magic in your tiny kitchen. When he began to set the table, you were still baffled by the variety and professional look of the foods.

There where beautifully decorated crepes with fruit and whipped cream, a steaming pot of delicious smelling coffee, bread slices surrounded by what looked like home made, savory spreads, fresh orange juice and some cooked eggs. It looked perfect and smelled like heaven. You took out your phone and made a picture to send it to your friend Chrissy to show off.

"Am I already making it to your Instagram? I feel honored" You heard him behind you as he peeked shamelessly into your phone, almost resting his chin on your shoulder.

"But let's not just look, let's eat." He waited behind a chair for you and pushed it to the table before he sat down himself, spinning the chair around and sitting down backwards, with his hands and head resting on top of the backrest.

You didn't know what you expected, but you were overwhelmed. "Uhm, why are you doing this again?" You asked insecurely - the best your ex ever managed was toast and marmalade.

"A beautiful lady deserves to be pampered" he answered in a serious tone. "Besides, I kind of lost my temper yesterday and crashed your date" he didn't seem sorry, in fact he grinned when he said it.

"So enjoy! I cooked up a luxury breakfast for you." His blue eyes sparkled with anticipation as you carefully loaded the crepe onto your plate, destroying the small masterpiece somewhat. You were normally not one to have breakfast, but the appetizing smell got you hungry.

The crepe was soft and warm, the cream tasted like vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. Its texture was perfect: creamy and fluffy, slightly buttery. It was perfectly balanced with the fresh, sour taste of the fruits. You could have moaned it was so good!

Ping

Ping

Ping

The constant ping of a cell phone was distracting you from the taste orgasm you were having. Opening your eyes, you saw Sanji, leaning on the backrest, staring at you with hooded eyes and an open mouth.

Ping

"Someone's messaging you I guess" you told him, ripping him from his trance.

"Oh, sorry! I should have turned that off." He took out the phone from his pocket and unlocked it. Being as nosy as he had been, you peeked at the screen - seeing the familiar design of a dating app.

Of course he was online dating. Every ping was a match, from the looks of it he got lots. Of course he was a player, the signs were all there, you just didn't want to see them. Suits, cooking, all that "princess" and "mademoiselle" bullshit. You scowled, hard. Years of training in the harsh world have made your scowl a powerful tool to broadcast your dissatisfaction to the world. Sanji understood immediately.

"No! It's not like that! I swear!" He held up his hands.

"I didn't say anything" you told him, surly.

"But you looked. Here, nothing is happening." He handed you his phone. What normal person does that?

You looked at his app, he had almost a thousand contacts, in this small town quite significant. Apparently, he was just matching every single woman he was shown, and most of them matched back. You navigated to the messages, he didn't protest. It really was sad.

He opened most conversations, all of them were a variation of "bonjour mademoiselle, I love you" and were read but ignored. The last messages were months old, he must have given up at some point. It was a strange display.

"You really thought this line would work? Just telling random women you love them right away?" You asked, unwilling to believe that someone would dedicate time and effort to this approach.

"It's no line!" He protested. "I love all women!" He said it as if this was a normal thing to say to a woman he currently was kind of flirting with.

"You won't get very far with that, this is too much too soon" you tried to explain.

"Why?" He asked seriously. "Love is good! Everyone wants to be loved!" He seemed very passionate about that.

"You don't just see someone and fall in love, that's not how it works, and it's not healthy" You were drawn into an obviously doomed debate but couldn't help it.

"No offense but, forcing yourself to date someone you don't like and doesn't respect you seems pretty far from love as well" he mused.

"Touche" you conceded, thinking about last night's disaster.

To your surprise, he blushed furiously and seemed strangely giddy all of a sudden.

"You are already jealous!" He said happily. "You want me so much that you are jealous, but don't be! The dating app didn't work because this" he pointed at himself and you" this is destiny!" He got up and swirled around like he was dancing, pouring you a fresh cup of coffee in the process.

"Just milk, no sugar" you reflexively said. He nodded and poured milk from a tiny carton into the cup. After the wine, the pasta, the dessert and the crepe, your expectations regarding this coffee were sky high.

You took a sip, Sanji almost leaned all the way over the table to savour your reaction.

It held up. The coffee tasted soft and just like freshly grounded beans always smelled. Like chocolate and nuts and warm summer mornings. You smiled as you remembered the delicious scent in the mornings of your childhood when the grownups drank their coffee while you had a whole day of playing ahead of you.

You heard a soft whimper from Sanji. He was staring at you with his mouth open.

"It's so nice to take care of someone who appreciates it." He said. "You're so sensual..." the last words were a husky whisper and his eyes fell shut. An unexpected kiss landed on your lips. It was nervous and hot and a little too wet, his eagerness getting the better of him. His little moustache tickled your face and you couldn't help but fondling that small goatee with your fingers. He kissed and touched you like a horny teenager, moaning as his tongue played around your mouth and his hands wandered over your body like he couldn't feel enough of you at once. His nimble, long fingers threaded through your hair.

It felt good, but it was too much. A guy with that kind of dating app approach was still a red flag. In a second, you could see your heart break when he left as soon as he got what he wanted. This was too easy, too perfect. Something was seriously wrong.

You pressed your hand against his muscular chest, but he didn't get the hint. He seemed to interpret it as you exploring him and he clutched your hand to himself, encouraging you to feel around more. It was seductive to just keep running your hand over his body, you could clearly feel his defined muscles under the soft fabric of his hoodie. But the doubt was too much for you to handle.

As his mouth broke away to kiss your hand, you managed to tell him: "Stop! Now!" He immediately let go and backed off, looking confused but still very much aroused. He was handsome with his lips red from a passionate kiss and his cheeks blushing. Too perfect.

"Did I hurt you? I am so sorry!" He wrung his hands and looked like a boy that had broken something expensive.

"No, it's just too fast. And I honestly don't know if I even want that right now." You explained.

He looked like you just stabbed him. Either he was the strangest, most naive man you ever met - or he was the best actor and most skilled asshole who would break your heart.

He turned away, looking hurt and small. But he was a grown man - he had to deal with rejection. You bet you weren't the first woman he startled. After a few seconds of hurt he seemed to get a hold of himself as he began to fidget with a zippo from his pocket.

"I am sorry I fell upon you like that. And kind of ruined the mood." He looked defeated, but composed. "I will be more controlled in the future. I am sorry!" He apologised with a smile that had to be forgiven immediately.

"Let's just be adults about this and forget it" you tried to somehow save the situation.

"No." He said decidedly.

"What?" You were confused.

"I'm never going to forget that. I don't want to act like I wasn't interested in you. I'll never ask for something in return when I cook for you, I promise. Please, let me cook for you in the future" he pleaded, absolutely losing you. What was his deal?

"So please, enjoy your breakfast" he said and sat down again to watch you. He explained all the foods to you in detail, making your head spin a little with all the information. He was almost like a podcast you could listen to while eating. Although your usual eating entertainment was Netflix. On the couch.

"So, after just now I hope it's not weird...but I brought the last classic for a fancy breakfast." He said a bit flustered.

"What is that? I am already stuffed..." You answered.

"Some champagne" He grinned.

"Did you really bring champagne?" You asked in disbelief.

"Just an open one from the Restaurant, we wouldn't sell that tonight anymore. But it's enough for two glasses and fresh enough." He explained, his relaxed smile back in place.

"Mhm, after yesterday I am a little hungover...just a sip?" You asked as he already poured two glasses.

You felt so tired and cozy, the table wasn't cutting it anymore. Actually, it has been ages since you used the small kitchen table - the couch was much more comfortable.

"Let's sit down here" you suggested and Sanji brought the glasses to your coffee table and sat down next to you with a wide grin and the bearing of someone who had just scored a win. He lay his arm on the headrest just above you and took one of the glasses.

"To destiny" He mumbled a toast.

"Destiny?" You giggled.

"Don't laugh! Do you think it's coincidence that you sit in my restaurant and an hour later I see that you live in my apartment building?" He said sternly.

"We live in a small town in a small building, we would have met sooner or later" you argued.

"Still destiny..." he mumbled with an adorable pout.

You touch your glass softly to his and say: "to daydrinking!"

He laughs. "To the good life" he returns the toast and you both drink.

The champagne is a bit too dry for your tastes, but surprisingly smooth. When was the last time you had a drink before noon? Probably some company event.

Looking at the handsome man on your couch, you deluded yourself into thinking you could have fun with him without attachment. Even in the moment the thought crossed your mind, it was as clear as the sparkling wine in your hand that you already liked him. He looked to inviting next to you, his outstretched arm creating the perfect space for you to rest your head. You leaned against him, feeling the soft fabric of his hoodie and his warmth once again. And it saved you from drowning in his eyes. He gasped a little when you touched him and began breathing really hard - good actor? Really naive? Doesn't matter now.

"Tell me something about yourself" you told him.

"Uhm mhm well I am a cook" he mumbled like his mouth was giving up.

"I know that" you told him. "What about family? Is this your family's restaurant?"

"Well kind of. More my stepfather. I don't really...it's complicated" he suddenly sounded like a normal person again. "But Zeff is really cool! And my colleagues at the restaurant are like my brothers." He told you about his stepfather, the restaurant and what kinds of menus he planned as you sipped your champagne. Between the hangover, a long week and a big breakfast - you were absolutely exhausted. Before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep, dreaming a pleasant dream about you and Sanji owning a small bistro somewhere nice and quiet.

When you woke up again, you were alone on the couch, afternoon sun bathed your living room in golden light, Sanji was gone. You lay outstretched under a blanket, the champagne was gone, too.

Fuck, now I fall asleep at a date? Is he mad at me?

The kitchenette is spotless, safe for the cream whipping thingy drying next to the sink. He cleaned up and left. Maybe you should bring him the thing? Or will he come and pick it up?

Undecided, you poured yourself the last cup of cold coffee. It tasted a little bland now, having lost its full aroma. You looked around your empty apartment and missed Sanji's cheery busyness already. Maybe you should just go and see where he lived. But you didn't even know his last name.

Years of online dating and unhealthy nosiness had given you the talent to find people by first name and extra info. You googled "Sanji" and "Baratie" and found an interesting newsarticle: "Success for charity" it said. "The local restaurant Baratie made a big leap for charity this weekend, inviting the children of the local community centre to cook delicious and healthy meals together. A win for the community and the children".

There was an adorable picture of Sanji, his arm around a cute little girl holding a plate of vegetables. The description read: "Sanji Vinsmoke showed the children that veggies can be tasty".

Bingo!

You would just stroll through the building and give him back his stuff and apologise for falling asleep on him. Like a normal, nice person. You were 99% sure that he didn't play games like "wait 3 days until you write" or something.

The halls of the building were narrow and long and it took you some time to find his name on one of the doors, it was on the opposite side of the building, no wonder you never bumped into him.

You pressed the doorbell, already anxious to see him again. Soft footsteps could be heard, the door opened. Your world crumbled a bit.

In front if you stood an absolute sexbomb of a woman. She wore Sanji's hoodie - the one you fell asleep on just earlier - and nothing else as it seemed. She had long, smooth legs, a perfect hourglass figure, full lips and the cutest face. Her pink hair was a perfect messy look. You stared. She looked annoyed.

"Yes?" She asked in a melodic voice.

"Uhm, is Sanji here?" You asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the flat behind her. She blocked your view.

"No, he is at work." Her answer was short and finite.

"I brought his cream whipping thing back" you stammered and indicated the device you were holding.

"Syphon" the woman stated.

"What?" You asked, confused.

"It's called a syphon. Thank you. Bye." The woman took the syphon out of your hand and closed the door, leaving you dumbstruck in the hallway.

_______

What is happening here? Who is the mystery lady? What's her relationship with Sanji? Is the writer of this story just messing with you to create a cheap cliffhanger?

Find out in the next installment of this Sanji modern day AU!

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE THIS. I was so unhappy and revised and revised and...you get the idea. It's still not perfect but I am content enough.

As always, please leave a comment if you want more or if you have a wish how it should continue. it's always a great motivator to me and I probably wouldn't have written part 2 if people hadn't asked for it

I am taking the freedom to tag previous commenters, I hope you don't mind

Also: please comment to be taken into the taglist for this story! I think I will write it for a while

@yeeeeezly

@roronoazorohater

@opalryst

@pastel9girlbunny000die

@pandabear-artsy-witch

@missallsundayyy

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji #sanji modern au #one piece modern au #one piece au #one piece fanfic #the fluff piece

[pastriibunz]

SOTBAW GIFT FOR @raspberrysmoon: Five Lords And A Baby

Wiggog Y’Wrath makes a decision he can’t come back from.

Humans sucked. 

He knew that for certain.

Wiggog Y’Wrath had been watching the creatures for millenia, and he had seen it all.

Sure, they had their good moments!

But there was so much depravity,

violence,

degeneracy,

and the like.

He knew that the human race was doomed from the start.

And what else could he do but watch this shitshow as it went up in flames?

Well, put some gasoline on the fire, of course!

But, this tale isn’t about how Wiggly (and his brothers, on many occasions) liked to screw with humanity, no.

This has to deal with the girl he hailed as “the one good thing that those vermin had ever (and will ever) produce.”

Kai Dean- Well, Kai Drew. That’s the name she had wanted.

AUGUST 22, 2001 [9:30 PM] - UNINGTON, USA.

The Lords in Black weren’t the only all powerful beings in the multiverse.

There was other eldritch beings, other gods. They lived in their own separate domain from the Black and White, one that they titled ‘The Heavens’.

WIggly and his brothers never really cared for them.

For one, they were far too stuck up and formal. What good is power if you aren’t gonna have any fun with it?

Two, they were so insistent on not interfering in human affairs. Bo-ring! They were such interesting creatures, why simply watch when you could become the bestest of paly-wals with them?

But, they did agree:

Humans sucked.

But they had a different reason than him.

To them, humans were far too much like them.

Their forms, too similar, the tongues they spoke in rang far too familiar for their liking.

To them, humans were just a bit off.

Almost gods, but not quite.

Like Jupiter, almost a star, but never could succeed.

Failed stars.

Failed gods.

So, to them, they made good vessels.

Wiggly had heard rumors flitting about. One of the more powerful goddesses had left their domain. Became human.

He never expected them to be both right and wrong.

Kai Dean was born August 22, 2001, at 3:27 in the morning, to a mother and father who’s names now elude him. She came out quiet, to the point the doctors were worried. Then, a chuckle, then sobs. She was imaginative from day one, her little brain working overtime.

But she wasn’t a god. 

At least, not the one that left.

He knew that as he stared down at the sleeping bundle in his arms.

This was supposed to be simple.

Kill the baby so she wouldn’t become a problem for him and his brothers later.

But, thanks to his form, the child started to cry. And he didn’t need her parents coming in. So he had to think quickly. He quickly fixed himself up, to look more “human” for this child. The cries, however, didn’t stop.

“Wh- I did what you wanted! Why won’t you shut up?!” Wiggly hissed at the child. 

She kept crying.

He sighed. “Oh, bother…”

“It’s fine,” he whispered to himself, “you’ve been around for millennia, you’ve seen humans do this countless times, it’s simple…”

He grabbed the swaddled child out from her crib, cradling her in his arms. He bounces her, and her cries slowly quiet, morphing into sleepy babbles. He blinks.

“Well! You’re an easy little one, aren’t you?” He says, gently booping her nose. 

The baby grabs his finger with a vice grip. She brings it up to her mouth, gnawing on it.

“Oh-!! Oh, no, no…that’s not for chewing, silly-billy!” He chuckles, pulling his finger away.

She whines, her big brown eyes filling with tears.

And then, he felt something he thought was impossible for him to feel:

Remorse.

He, Wiggog “Wiggly” Y’rath, THE Lord in Black, felt bad for this child. 

That was confusing.

But what was even more confusing was what he did next.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, little one. Here, here, you can have my finger back. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He cooed softly, bringing the back of his finger to her chubby little cheek and stroking it gently.

The girl giggled. His heart melted.

He didn’t want to kill her.

She was adorable.

She was his.

“So this is why humans reproduce….” He mumbled. 

He looks around the nursery, seeing the carved woodblock letters on the walls. He smiles down at her, playing with a curly lock of chocolate brown hair. 

“Kai, huh..? What a cute name for a cute girl.” He bounces her.

She didn’t need to die, right?

No, no. She…she could be useful.

He could…he could raise her as his own. With his brothers’ help. They’ll help her use this power to wreak havoc upon the mortals.

She doesn’t have to die, and he gets to keep her! It’s a win win! He smiles down at the bundle of joy in his arms, using a tentacle to pet her cheek.

“Well, darling, how would you like to go home with your new daddy?” He smiles at her and she giggles.

He coos. “Tickle, tickle, tickle…” She laughs.

He begins to walk back to where he came, Kai in his arms. “Hm…you need a last name. What about…Drew?” He asks, tickling her. She squeals. “Oh, yeah, you like Drew. You’re definitely a Drew.”

He turns, surveying the nursery for the last time. He looks down at her, smiling with a certain kind of love in his eyes. “Kai Drew. That’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

AUGUST 22, 2001 [???] - BLACK AND WHITE

Pokotho and his brothers had been waiting impatiently for Wiggog’s return. He had left, declaring some wild plan, one that he hadn’t really listened to.

“I see him.” Bliklotep declared.

“Where??? And does he have food???” Nibblenephilim asked, salivating. Per usual.

“Uh…here, and maybe..?” Bliklotep motioned towards their returning brother, now semi human, a bundle cradled to his chest tightly. He smiles at his siblings.

“Hello, friendy-wends!” He grinned, holding the bundle closer. They looked at him with confusion. He waves a tentacle towards them, rubbing circles on the top of the bundle with one of his hands. Eugh.

“Do you boys mind turning a bit more…well…presentable? I have something you’ll all be interested in.” Wiggog said slyly. The others groan, knowing what this meant. Wiggog, in turn, huffs. “Don’t pout. It’s necessary. Now. Do it.”

With practically a thousand eye rolls and loud protests, his brothers end up looking similar to the vermin that was mankind. Wiggog smiles, clearing his throat.

“So, as we all know, one of those other goddesses died-”

“Nobody knew that.” “I didn’t!” “Me neither.” “What are we talking about???”

Wiggog huffs. “Well, she did. And she ‘became human’. So, in order to cause less problems in the future, I decided to…take care of our little problem. Boys,”

Wiggog brings his arms in front of him, cradling the baby in his arms. “Meet Kai.”

His brothers crowd around him, staring at the child in his arms. Pokotho is the first to speak, smiling confusedly. “I mean…it’s kinda cute-”

“I WANNA EAT IT!” Nibblenephilim interrupted with a fervor only seen in a salivating, rabid animal. 

“NO!” Wiggog shouted almost instantly, pressing Kai close to his chest, startling the other lords. “We aren’t going to eat her! I said it earlier, we’re going to take care of her! Nurture her! Love her! Raise her as one of us!”

The other four blink. Pokotho is once again the first to speak. “WHAT.”

Wiggog has a stern, unamused look on his face. “You heard me.” He smiles down at the infant, petting her cheek. “We’re gonna raise her as one of us, so when the time comes, we can use her to cause chaos!” He nuzzles his cheek to hers, cooing to the sleepy bundle. “Who’s daddy’s little destroyer of universes? You are! Yes, you are!”

“Ahem.” Pokotho says, clearing his throat, unamused. T’noy Karaxis, Bliklotep, and Nibblenephilim are a different story, however, the three snorting as they try to hold into their laughter. Wiggog awkwardly clears his own throat.

“This isn’t up for debate. It’s happening.” Wiggog says with a certain finality.

Bliklotep turns to T’noy. “Woah, we’re parents now.” 

T’noy blinks. “Woag.”

Nibblenephilim pops between the two, raising his hand and waving it in the air. “I WANNA BE THE MAMA!”

Pokotho sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He heads towards his eldest brother. “Wiggog, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Wiggog blinks. “Whatever do you mean?”

Pokotho motions to the way Wiggog is holding the girl. “You seem…attached. I don’t know if-”

“It’s happening. You can’t convince me otherwise.” Wiggog says flatly.

Pokotho huffs. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

He storms off, leaving Wiggly alone with Kai. He looks down at his child, who’s been awoken by the commotion. She yawns. He sighs and smiles, petting her cheek and cooing at her. “You won’t be any trouble, huh? Nooo, you’re just Papa’s perfect girl.”

The baby laughs. He smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “Yeah, you won’t. You’re Papa’s now. For now until forever.

Fin.

#kai drew #oc #tkwdlm #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #the kai who didn’t like musicals #hatchetfield #kai in hatchetfield #wiggly #wiggog y'wrath #pokey #pokotho #nibblenephim #nibbly #tinky #tnoy karaxis #bliklotep #blinky #sotbaw #bro the cringy ass kai lore is my biggest opp 😭

[justalonelyslytherin]

It's You - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female Reader (callsign 'Lady')

Summary: Following the events of ‘Hold Me Close’ they find themselves waking up together the next morning. Things have shifted between them, neither really understanding nor realizing what it means. It’s the perfect breeding ground for a misunderstanding that threatens to rip the two of them apart. Their mission is fast approaching, leaving no place to resolve their differences, will a near-fatal end of the mission be able to bring them back together?

Warnings: combat/mission, getting shot at, the possibility of death and crashing, misunderstanding/miscommunication, emotional confusion, idiots in love, I know very little about the navy = military inaccuracies, fluffy ending!

Wordcount: 6.4k

A/N: the callsign 'Lady' comes from the fact that she was the shortest person in her class and still is in her squadron.

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

Beeping filled the otherwise quiet, still darkened cabin. 

The noise ripped her rather abruptly out of her slumber. Waking up felt hard. Neither her consciousness nor her body wanted to and the resistance both mustered produced a low grumble in the back of her throat. 

The assailant was her wristwatch, the one she had set. Yesterday evening it had felt like a good idea, considering she needed to get up extra early to sneak into her cabin and get ready. Now she cursed herself.

Rather sleepily she registered the heavy, muscly arm slung around her waist and then the warm presence of another body against her back. Memories of the previous evening flooded back, reminding her of Hangman’s offer and how they fell asleep in his cabin.

Another groan left her mouth as she rubbed a hand over her face, finally reaching for the watch on her wrist and turning it off. Said hand had held his when they fell asleep. Throughout the night it had slipped to his forearm. She noticed they had barely shifted otherwise. Not that the tight space of the bunk allowed much movement.

Sleeping tightly embraced by Hangman felt surprisingly comfortable to her. She hadn’t ever slept that well on a ship before. If she was entirely honest with herself she hadn’t slept that well on land in a long time either. Something about having the blonde aviator behind her, so close and safe in his embrace, had a calming effect. 

It was serene even, so relaxing she didn’t want to leave and get up. It would be so easy to fall back asleep right now. The realization scared her somewhat, not understanding where this came from now. Maybe it was the last shreds of sleep desperately clinging to her mind, keeping her fuzzy and her reactions slow.

Her still sleepy mind started to work anyway, trying to come up with a solution on how she would get out of this bunk. Preferably without disturbing the man clinging to her back. She had to get out of his hold somehow before she could even attempt to climb over him. Both actions seemed much too impossible for the early morning. 

While she racked her brain Jake started to stir behind her. A warm puff of air brushed over her neck, setting off a hot tingle all over her back. It made her shiver and press herself against him. Jake - still in a sleepy daze himself - answered by pulling her even closer. That’s when she noticed something else. His hand had shifted during the night. It wasn’t sprawled over her stomach anymore, instead, he had snuck it under her shirt. It was alright with her. The thing she was acutely aware of was its new position. 

On her boob.

Without a care in the world and comfortably as could be he held her boob, cradling it in his palm almost - and she cursed her head as she could only think how well it fit in there. 

Her breath hitched as his fingers twitched unconsciously, his thumb swiping over the soft flesh directly under the swell of her breast. She couldn’t help but arch her back. Jake groaned quietly against her shoulder, burying his head into the crook of her neck. His hips pressed into her butt, a distinct hardened shape poking at her. Screwing her eyes closed, her breath came fast and unsteady. She needed to calm down.

“Jake.” He didn’t react.

“Hangman.” This time he stirred.

“What?” He mumbled against her neck, slightly lifting his head. She nearly forgot how to speak and even how to breathe. The deep drawl of his voice directly after waking up was making her dizzy in only the best way.

“Take your hand off my boob.” She could feel him freeze for only a short moment before she felt his fingers stretch. Teasingly kneading her soft flesh once.

“Why?”, he asked her in an equally teasing manner. 

Why? Because they were colleagues and it was inappropriate? Because he made her body tingly and her mind cloudy? Because she didn’t know what it was between them and it scared her how nice it felt. Because she didn’t want this to end, because she was so ready to go further and commit more, to risk getting hurt and it terrified her.

“Because I have to get up.” Behind her, she felt his heavy sigh.

“What time is it?”

“Too early for you to get up,” she told him, tapping his arm with her hand. Only then he slowly retracted it and she once again cursed herself. This time because she immediately missed his touch. The warmth and comfort it had provided.

“Why are you getting up then?” It was so dark in the cabin she could barely make out his face after she had turned around to him.”

“Because I have to get back to my cabin and get ready.” There was a shower she desperately wanted to take as she hadn’t had the opportunity the previous night. Her hair needed at least a quick rinse or else it would be a nightmare to keep it fixed to regulations.

She could feel him shift around the bed. As he did her hand shot out landing on his shoulder. 

“Stay,” she told him, only letting go once he was lying on his back.

“Well, how are you thinking about getting out if I don’t get up?” The sarcasm in his voice was dripping. That’s the Hangman she had almost missed yesterday evening. While his soft side was to melt for she had strangely always liked his sarcasm.

“Like this,” with that, she climbed over him. To be fair it was more like squeezing over him. The tight space of the bunk limited her movement heavily, leading to her hitting her head as she was directly on top of him. She cursed. Jake’s hands shot out to her sides, one hand on each hip.

“You okay?” His eyes flashed in the darkness as his head lifted, their noses brushing against each other.

“Yeah,” she muttered, “Just hit my head.” 

She could hear him laugh quietly. 

Hitting his chest wasn’t such a good idea. Without two of two arms to stabilize herself over him she sagged downwards. Jake groaned - moaned? - once more as her hips dug into him, something long and hard poked at her stomach. It drove heat into her cheeks and neck.

“Sorry.” As quickly as she could she climbed out of the bunk, jumping to the floor. She could still feel the heat radiate as she scrambled to the pile of her uniform. At least it was dark enough so he wouldn’t see her.

“Try to get back to sleep,” she told him, clearing her throat once she was almost finished with dressing. Only her shoes were left as she fumbled, buckling her belt.

“No,” he huffed, “Won’t be able to fall back asleep again. Thanks to you.” His tone wasn’t accusing. Once more it was teasing and even cocky. She was pretty sure it was an innuendo.

“Sure you don’t want to climb back in?” Jake asked her and now she was sure it was an innuendo. She bent down to tie her shoelaces before answering.

“Have fun with your hand Hangman.” With that, she turned towards the door. But before she could leave the room, she stopped and turned her head back.

“Thank you for letting me sleep here.” It was nothing more than a whisper before she slipped out of the door without waiting for his response.

On her way back to her cabin she prayed the door would be open and that Phoenix’s lover had left already. Partly her wish was granted. Turning the corner towards her room she nearly ran into him. They looked at each other, Y/N raising an eyebrow. She looked blankly at him for some moments before cracking a small smile and shaking her head. With a sign to keep her mouth shut she motioned for him to go. They squeezed past each other as she shook her head once more. This time the door opened without trouble.

Phoenix looked up as she entered the room, her roommate getting ready. The two women briefly looked at each other.

“Next time go to his room.” Phoenix's laugh conveyed some embarrassment as she nodded.

“Sorry,” she said, only to be waved off.

“It’s fine. Just don’t sexile me again.” Secretly she wanted to thank Phoenix too. Without her roommate's nightly endeavors she wouldn’t have slept in Hangman’s cabin. Thinking back to it made her heart beat faster. The sensation confused her. Why did she suddenly feel like that? Hangman and her had been on good terms before, always getting along she even considered him a proper friend. Their silent understanding had been something she prided herself in, finding comfort in the other in a way they couldn’t with any other dagger. Something had shifted the previous night. Something she couldn’t put her finger on yet.

“Where did you even sleep?” Phoenix ripped her out of her thoughts.

“Ah, you know…I found someplace.”

Neither the night nor the morning waking up in Hangman’s arms wanted to let her go. Thoughts and pictures flooded back to her in the least expected moments. Now sitting in the cafeteria she couldn’t concentrate on her breakfast one bit. Phoenix nudged her with her elbow, glaring at something in the distance.

“Hangman’s staring at you. Why is he staring at you?” She looked up, knitting her brows in surprise. He was?

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, which didn’t satisfy her fellow female pilot. Phoenix seemed to even get a little angry about it.

“If he won’t stop I’m going to make him.”

“Don’t, it’s fine.” Phoenix looked at her with one brow raised and scoffed.

“I bet that’s one of his stupid tactics to throw you off your game. I know he and Rooster are team leaders for the mission but I know Maverick is considering selecting you as dagger one.” The brunette sounded angry and ready to march over towards the blonde.

“Phoenix it’s fine really. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Did you hit your head somewhere last night? We are talking about Hangman. He got better but he is still a cocky, lonesome asshole.”

“Stop it. It’s too early for that. I just want to enjoy my breakfast.” She muttered, a finality in her words that made Phoenix stop. At least for now. 

While the brunette was convinced, Y/N on the other hand felt like Hangman was staring at her for an entirely different reason. One she couldn’t explain.

He indeed was looking at her she realized as her eyes met his. They stared at each other for a moment. It made her swallow hard. His look was intense and it affected her in a way she couldn’t comprehend nor explain what it was. Subtly Hangman raised his brow, she averted her eyes. For the rest of the breakfast, she made sure to keep her eyes on her tray.

After that, the Hangar underdeck where their jets were stashed was their destination. The storm had indeed hit in the night and mostly passed over. The sea was still rougher than usual but the vessel had embarked after permission to leave had been granted early in the morning. Now they were on their way to the mission site. For the daggers that meant an easy day only doing maintenance on their jets.

She stood in front of her jet, looking over it. One of the hatches was opened to look at the interior mechanics. Standard maintenance. Running through the checklists was like second nature to her. She could do it in her sleep. Yet, even as smooth as the routine was, one part she always dreaded. Closing the hatch. Sighing she put the clipboard away and stood on her tiptoes. She was not too short for it, if she were she wouldn’t have been allowed to become a pilot, but it was always a gamble if she could do it in one go or not. 

Before she could even try another arm entered her field of vision, grasping the hatch for her. As a second hand landed on her hip, softly kneading her skin, she turned her head.

Hangman. Standing behind her, his chest bumped against her back. Her heart had started to beat faster, the strange flutter back again. Confusion followed and a wave of strange anger. Both at her inability to identify these sensations and the way Hangman’s behavior had so drastically changed. It frustrated her to feel so helpless, left to be succumbed by her feelings.

“I had that,” she told him sourly.

“I wanted to help.” His answer came calmly, ticking her frustration up a notch and causing her brow the raise.

“Since when do you do that?”, she asked him snippily. It was a low blow, she knew that. He reacted rather calmly, narrowing his eyes and looking down at her but the way he had pulled his lips into a thin line told her her words had hit.

“Can I not?” He asked her dryly back. His jaw ticked slightly, making her swallow. Instead of backing down, however, she huffed.

“You done being helpful now?” 

No one was close by to see them which to her was a relief. Once again she was confused about what this was supposed to be. Just like the morning, she wanted to let herself go. She could feel him so close to her, deep down she liked it. She wanted to preen and lean back against him, wallowing in the closeness, but she couldn’t.

A part even deeper down didn’t allow her to relax and let it happen. The closeness scared her. She had never wanted to do this before, never wanted to be so close to him, indulge in him. He had never come so close to her before, giving her such mixed signals. 

Sure they had touched and gotten close in friendly games of dog football with the team. Hangan had occasionally even slung an arm over her shoulder when they had been in the Hard Deck or walking out to a campfire the group had organized. But never like that. 

The way he pressed himself against her back, his hands on both sides of her hips subtly grabbing at her and her suit. He had never made any advances towards her that could have suggested anything but them being friends. She had seen him flirt and get handsy with ladies. Now she feared she was his next goal simply because they were on deployment and miles away from the closest shore and any civilian woman.

“Why’d you go so fast this morning and then avoid me during breakfast?” He asked her, his breath against her hair and the tip of her ear. It made her shudder.

“I had to go get ready.” Her answer evaded his question. Hangman hummed quietly behind her. She couldn’t decide if there was something here, if she was reading into the situation correctly or if he was just trying to use her as a bed bunny. The thought of the latter being true made her mad.

“Had fun with your hand?”, she asked him stubbornly, turning to grab her clipboard but he tugged her back against his chest.

“I had preferred you had been there to help.” He told her hotly, his lips only inches from her neck. Her breath rattled and her head spun. No coherent thought was able to form. 

Somehow she managed to snap out of it, elbowing him in the side. Not done with him, she needed a way to let some of the anger she felt right now dissipate, she reached behind her and found his harness. Harshly pulling on it made him groan. Hangman buckled over at the uncomfortable feeling of the harness being pulled tighter around his legs and crotch. It was enough for him to let her go. Exactly what she wanted as she now turned around to him, a stern look in her eyes.

“I’m not your plaything,” she told him before turning around and stomping to the other side of the jet. Her chest was heaving and her mind reeling as she tried to calm down. He shouldn’t be able to affect her like that, shouldn’t be able to make her lose her composure.

Finally having calmed down she looked back around the jet. Hangman was gone, back to his jet but her mind was still alight with thousands of thoughts. All surrounding him. The anger in her had simmered down but there was still some disappointment bubbling in the pits of her stomach. Had she read too much into the situation? Had there been something more, something that wasn’t blatantly sexual? She had long before cracked down Hangman’s cocky mask, seeing behind the manwhore he played. Had she been wrong the entire time?

She hated how the short moment between them in the hanger had left her mind reeling, distracting her every waking moment afterward. She knew she was distracted and she knew the others had noticed as well. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to focus, she wanted to. Wanted to forget everything interpersonal that didn’t belong with the mission. She couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to. 

Hangman had kept his distance the last couple of days and while it shouldn’t it bothered her. Bothered her deeply. He was going overboard with it. The evenings the team found themselves in one of the common rooms, he stayed at the opposite end of the group, moving whenever she tried to get close. He hadn’t talked to her alone. Even in the group, he said only the bare minimum. The only times he addressed her at all, it had to do with maintenance of the jets or the mission. The distance between them now was the exact opposite. 

She hated it.

At lunch, she sat together with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback. They were all watching her out of the corner of their eyes. The conversation they shared halted every couple of minutes to shoot her concerned looks. Slowly their behavior ground away her nerves. Her hold on her metal spoon kept getting tighter and tighter.

“What’s going on with you?” Phoenix finally asked once her spoon had clattered into the metal tray. Her roommate was equally fed up with her as she was with them. Furrowing her brows she looked at her friends and colleagues.

“You have been out of it ever since the storm.” While it sounded outright accusing deep down she knew it came from a place of concern and maybe even fear.

“Have we somehow changed dimensions? Are we in a parallel universe in which you are a horrible pilot?” Payback joked but smiled reassuringly at her. He was trying to lighten the mood.

“No,” she tells them briefly, her eyes wandering through the cafeteria. Just a couple of seats away sat Rooster, Maverick, and Bob, just behind them were Coyote and Hangman. On the latter, her eyes stayed put. If he was aware of her eyes on him he was doing his best to ignore it. She gnawed on her lip.

“Did something else happen that night?” Phoenix prodded. Looking back at the three of them she shook her head.

“Can’t be. She went to bed earlier than we did,” Fanboy chimed in good-naturedly. If he only knew, but she wouldn’t tell them that. Phoenix leaned back in her chair, one eyebrow raised accusingly. Y/N looked at her, blinking slowly and granting the brunette no reaction or clue. The brief exchange between the female pilots went entirely over Fanboy and Payback's heads.

“You still haven’t told me where you slept.” Ah, so that’s how she wanted to go about this now.

“Does that matter?” she asked defensively.

“It does if it is the reason you are off your game,” Phoenix said, increasingly getting more frustrated, “Come on, we are only trying to help! The mission is getting close and we need to be at our best once it’s time.” 

She knew. Oh, how she knew. Besides Hangman there wasn’t anything but the mission in her head.

“I know! Do you think I live this? Being distracted and making mistakes in procedures I can normally do in my sleep. Do you think I enjoy this added pressure? Knowing the dire and danger of the mission?” She knew exactly what it pertained, what it meant to be distracted and make a mistake up in the air. Certain death. Even in practice, it was dangerous to be distracted. In a real mission, it was fatal.

Her stomach angrily twisted into knots. Any feeling of hunger was gone. The food in front of her repulsed her suddenly. Shoving the cutlery away, she stood up rather abruptly. Multiple eyes turned towards their group, some even following her as she stormed out of the dining hall.

One particular pair of green eyes followed her every move, standing up not long after she had turned the corner.

Too deep into the never-ending cycle of thoughts plaguing her since the night of the storm, she didn’t notice the steps echoing off the walls following her. Only when her arm was grabbed and the momentum she and her attacker had spun her around, she realized. Her back strongly collided with the metal wall.

Nestled into a nook, standing chest to chest where Hangman and her. The blonde looked down at her, both hands holding her wrists as he observed the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“What’s going on with you?” His calmness was a stark contrast to the agitated state she was in.

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t able to look him in the eyes. Why did he go after her now? Had he finally reached the point where he had become so annoyed about her possibly messing up the mission? Or was he finally able to let her try to talk to him? To resolve what had happened? Whatever it was, now it was her turn to not want to. Instead of being confronted by him, she just wanted to go. Tugging her wrists in an attempt to free herself from his grip turned out to be futile.

“You don’t know?” Hangman scoffed, his grip tightening. He pulled her even closer, caging her in further between the hard plains of his broad chest and the cool, solid metal of the wall.

“Let me go!” She demanded.

“Not good enough. Think of a better answer.” He told her sternly, his brows crinkled deeply as he slightly shook her arms. It made her look up at him defiantly, eyes boring into his. 

A pang of sadness and hurt bloomed in her heart. She didn’t want to fight with him and the way he was so angry at her hurt her deeply. How had it gotten like that? How had they gone from cuddling together in bed to fighting like this?

“What is your problem?” she asked exasperated and fighting hard to channel the anger and agitation instead of the hurt that wanted to mix in.

“Mine? What is yours?” he asked her back, leaning forward and pinning her further against the wall until his hips dug into hers. 

He was so close his breath grazed her lips. Her body betrayed her as he trespassed into her personal space. Now her heart wasn’t beating furiously from the anger. The traitorous thing was beating wildly because he was so close. Because she could feel his breath on her lips and it made her realize how easily he could kiss her. His scent encompassed her, clouding her senses and numbing her buzzing mind. The tantalizing familiar tones send her straight back to the night of the storm, to the way he held her throughout the night as his scent wrapped around her like a safety blanket.

“You are.”

Her voice lacked the fight it had possessed moments before. She had almost entirely deflated, so quiet it may as well have been nothing but a whisper. But he had heard her. 

His posture turned rigid and then he retracted, looking blankly at her. There was a silence between them. For the first time, it felt uncomfortable. It lasted only a couple of heartbeats but it was long enough to be torturous.

Then he was gone. In the blink of an eye, he had let her go, pulled himself out of her space, and turned on the spot. She could only stare at his retreating back. Once his form had rounded the nearest corner she slid down the wall, sinking to the floor. The adrenaline washed from her, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.

“This is it,” Maverick told them as they were all lined up in formation and donning their flight gear. The ship had reached the mission coordinates. Start of the mission was in t-30 minutes.

“Be prepared for everything that could happen, to happen. But don’t forget it is you that matters up there. It is the pilot, not the plane.” While he stood there addressing all of them with his talk, she couldn’t help but feel singled out by his looks. Her game had been off. She had only slightly recovered after the altercation with Jake as it had felt like the end of everything between them. 

Maverick knew it too; she still wasn’t back on her game. She had been so sure to be exchanged with one of the other pilots, for him to choose someone else over her. He hadn’t. Because he believed in her, something she wasn't sure she could at the moment. Now she was on her way out for the mission. It felt more like she was out to find certain death high in the clouds.

“Dismissed.” At the end of his speech, the group dispersed.

Both Phoenix and Bob came up to her, the duo just about to go to their jet and get ready. Concern was brimming in both their looks. She knew they were concerned, secretly she was too. But for their sakes, she swallowed the uneasy, bitter feeling and smiled at them.

“I’m fine,” she reassured. “Got my head back together. Don’t worry.” Lies. All lies. 

They didn’t look particularly convinced but didn’t prod further either. Phoenix pulled her into her arms, squeezing her tightly. Even without saying anything she knew. It was a silent message, a plea to come back together with them, to not let them get back with one person less.

“I’ll go get ready.” She could feel her throat closing up the longer they stood by her. Bob and Phoenix in turn nodded at her, letting her turn around. As she walked away they exchanged a concerned glance.

Her jet wasn’t far off. It stood on the elevator platform, ready and waiting to get lifted onto the deck. Hangman stood by his jet, the one directly next to hers. Her throat tightened even more looking at him as he stood there, his helmet in his hand, fiddling with the straps like he always did before putting it on. It was a habit of his, some sort of ritual he had told her once. Without thinking she walked up to him. Once directly behind him, she hesitated. His shoulders were broad, pushed outwards confidently but also tense.

“Hangman.” There was no way she could bring herself to say his first name. It felt forbidden to her now like she had lost the privilege of it. His head turned around. Surprise crossed his eyes briefly before they turned steely cold.

“Good mission,” she told him, inwardly cursing herself for the shake of her voice. He noticed too. As she turned back around, his hand closed around her wrist, softly stopping her.

“You alright?” He asked quietly. Nearly she burst into tears. It was so unusual of him. He didn’t care about anyone else, especially not before a mission. For him to not only show some concern but also, after all, that happened? It made her knees weak as a whimper crawled up her throat. She wanted to nod, to put up an act just like she had done in front of Phoenix and Bob. She couldn’t so instead she swallowed down the emotions and shook her head.

“Don’t do something stupid up in the air. Don’t let yourself get distracted by whatever it is that got to your head.” There was actual concern lacing his voice now. It nearly made her laugh. 

His hand lingered around her wrist, his thumb softly brushing over her skin. They looked at each other, neither of them able to look away. If not for the announcement overhead that broke them apart, they would have stood there for eternity.

The landing was rough. 

The wheels of her jet screeched and wailed as the aircraft harshly decelerated, coming to a rocky stop on the deck. The moment the jet had entirely stopped she slumped back in her seat. Her hands only slowly let go of the tight grip she had kept on her control stick. The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins, and her head throbbed. She felt sticky and disgusting, covered in a thick layer of sweat that had matted her hair to the back of her neck. Distinctively she felt a pearl of sweat trail down her spine.

A shuddering breath left her. There were a thousand thoughts in her mind, jumping back to the moments up in the air just before. The rush of what happened was still there, still so fresh. Yet it hadn’t hit her how close she had come to not returning.

The missing canopy above her head was a strong indicator. Where her face had been exposed to the frosty air her skin prickled, where it had hit her unshielded from the moment the hood had been lost, it stung. She wasn’t sure if it was only from the cold or also from the small metal parts that crossed her path.

All she could think about was the last exchange he had up in the air with Hangman. She hadn’t even cared that the rest of the team and the control room could hear her too.

“Shit! I got two on my tail. I can’t shake both of them!”

“Where are you? Who is closest to her?”

“No one.”

She had to swallow hard. “I can’t see anyone else from the team.”

“Lady! Hold on!” Hangman’s voice had been so stern. “Don’t do something stupid.”

“I’m not trying to,” she told him, a tick rising in her voice, a certain tremble she couldn’t hide anymore as the situation grew ever more threatening.

“Damn it, I’m hit! Engine one is down and there is a large crack in my canopy. The cockpit is depressurizing” 

She remembered the way her stomach twisted as she tumbled through the sky, the first time in her life where she didn’t feel entirely at ease up in the clouds.

“Someone needs to get to her!” 

She couldn’t remember who had called out.

“Trying to restart the engine.”

“God damn it. Someone get to her!” Hangman had said it with a voice that was laced with so much tight-wound desperation. It had been scary to hear him so emotional, so different to the aviator that got his callsign from leaving anyone else behind.

“Hangman,” she had told him, clenching her teeth as her fingers dug into the control stick, fighting to get control back without getting shot down.

“It’s you,” she had told him, certain it would be the last thing she ever uttered.

“Lady! You alright?” The voice brought her back, realizing she was still sitting in her cockpit. She felt dizzy but still nodded.

"Yeah. I’m fine.” As fine as someone could be after an experience like that. She wouldn’t be getting around a check-up later on, she was sure of that. For now, the deck around her was in chaos. People were running around, checking on the other pilots and jets, getting the runways cleared for every plane to fit. There were even some people already celebrating.

Slowly she climbed out of the cockpit. Her legs felt a little wobbly, so she wasn’t mad about the hand the landing assistant had on her back. When she stood on the deck with both feet she finally pulled her helmet down. Her hair was sticking to her temples and forehead, having come loose from her bun.

Unexpectedly she was yanked back and spun around. In front of her was Hangman. His eyes were frantically raking over her from head to toe. She noticed how erratic his breathing was as his fingers dug into her arms. The next moment she was pushed against his hard chest, crushed inside an embrace.

“I’m alright,” she told him softly, her arms slowly snaking around his waist. It felt good to be so close to him again, to feel his arms around her. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and revel in it. Both of them clung to each other as their hearts and breaths slowly calmed. He broke the embrace too soon for her liking.

There was conflict in those green eyes of his, she could tell he was having a fight with himself.

“It’s you.” Telling him again the words felt raw and a little too soon but now that he was standing in front of her, now that she made it back alive and in one piece, she had to tell him personally. His brows furrowed deeply in confusion.

“You are what got into my head.” Hurt crossed his face, followed by recognition as she shook her head. Not like that. Not in a bad way. There were many more things on her mind she wanted to tell him. Too many for her to know where to start. 

“You are not a plaything for me,” His words - heavy with the drawl of his accent breaking through - made her gasp. Looking intently at her, he continued, “I thought it was clear. I’d never act like that with you. I’d never try to get you into bed for a one-time thing.”

She had to close her eyes. Really, she would like to hit herself. How could she have been so stupid? So insecure to even think that? Too scared of the things she felt, how she hadn’t been able to realize them at first. Now it all seemed so clear, so obvious, and easy. 

Instead of dwelling on the negative emotions, she let the butterflies win, the soft tingling erupting all over her body. After all, she hadn’t imagined the pull between them that night. When she opened her eyes again he was intently watching, his eyes searching hers. She smiled at him.

Snaking her arms around his neck she pulled him down. Their lips met. It felt like the eruption of a firework. Not even the thrill of flying, the feeling of a successful mission could compare to his. Jake’s hands landed on her hips, pulling her towards him, flush against his body. As if she wasn’t already impossibly close. He was holding her as if she would disappear any moment as if he never wanted to let her go again.

Two bodies lay beside each other on the narrow bunk bed. Similar to the night of the storm in which they had first shared the close quarters. Now - just as the first night - they were embracing each other. Jake was on his back, one arm drawn around her and softly trailing his fingers through her hair. She was resting her head on his chest, snuggled tightly against his side. Their bodies were bare under the thin blanket.

They were quiet and content. The comfortable silence had returned to them, the need to say something void. A soft sigh left her lips as she nuzzled her nose against his clavicle, the smattering of his chest hair tickling her softly. Had she had her eyes open she would have seen the soft and loving way Jake looked at her. How pleased he was.

“Next time you gonna talk to me directly?”, he broke the silence after a while. She stretched to his words, slowly opening her eyes and looking up at him.

“The next time? Are you expecting us to fight again?”, she asked him. He smiled down at her and shook his head.

“No, just asking if you’ll let me into your head from now on.” There was still a pang of shame in her for the way she had handled the situation. Had she been straightforward with him from the beginning it all would have gone smoother. She wouldn’t have come so close to dying either. Besides the memories that wouldn’t be forgotten so easily, and the small bandaid on her cheek there was no other indication of the near-fatal end.

He could tell she was getting lost in her thoughts again, so he shifted, turning to his site and eliciting a small protest from her. But he knew a way to shut her up quickly. As his lips descended on hers the complaint died on her tongue. Instead, a satisfied hum left her lips.

The kiss was only broken by her yawn. Jake looked at her, smirking slightly as he swiped his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Let’s sleep.” She wanted to protest but he shushed her softly. “Sleep,” he insisted. She complied with a sigh, giving in to both the exhaustion of her body and the invite his arms provided.

They shuffled around slightly, both getting comfortable. It was a coincidence they ended up in the same position as the night of the storm, him wrapped around her back, she was content in his arms and with his hand on her stomach. 

Both were close to falling asleep when her hand moved once more. She tugged on Jake’s hand, feeling him go pliant and letting her guide the appendage. A surprised noise formed at the back of his throat, just as she let out a soft hum.

“Better,” she mumbled sleepily, cuddling back into his embrace. Jake chuckled as she fell asleep to the feeling of him at her back and his hand on her boob.

#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman fic #hangman seresin

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Flufftober Day 20

Bedtime Stories- Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 775    Wanda Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist   Flufftober

You had been tired all day, but now that you were finally in bed and ready for sleep your mind just wouldn’t be quiet for you. You sigh as you toss and turn, attempting to get more comfortable but give up after a few shuffles so as to not disturb your sleeping girlfriend.

   “Malysh(baby)?” she grumbles, accent quite apparent in her sleepy state, “Are you alright?”

   Well, so much for not disturbing her. “Sorry I woke you, love. I’m alright. Just go back to sleep, ok?”

   She knows you're lying so as to not worry her. It's past three in the morning, if everything was ok then you'd be asleep with your arms curled around her, not huffing in irritation as you tug on the blanket for the hundredth time. Her brows furrow and she focuses her eyes intently on your face, trying to make out your features in the darkness of the bedroom. 

   Once her eyes adjust she can see the bags under your eyes and the slight frown you wear as frustrations gets the better of you. She instinctively moves closer to you, resting her head against your shoulder before letting one of her hands come to rest on your chest.

   “Nightmare?”

   You shake your head, “No. I just can’t seem to turn my brain off long enough to fall asleep.”

   She hums in acknowledgement. She used to have nights like that all the time back when she first got her powers, then again when she had lost Pietro. You've had nights like that before too, but normally you’d be able to settle yourself down after a short while. Tonight however was not one of those nights.

   She lets her fingers trace gentle patterns across your chest as she looks up at you, “Is there a forest around here? Not like Central Park, but like an actual vast forest full of trees.”

   Despite finding her question random you decide to humor her, “Yeah, a bit out of the city in other areas of the state there's lots of forests.”

   “I miss the forest.” she admits, “Sokovia was surrounded by them. When Pietro and I were young, we would go in to explore them. We’d play and wander around four hours, just getting lost in our daydreams and imagination. It was wonderful.”

   You wrap your arm around her, “I bet that was a lot of fun”

   “It was. Being so deep in the wilderness was like we were the only ones that existed, other than the animals of course.” she replies, “Once we were older mama talked papa into taking us camping.”

   “Did you enjoy it?” you ask, stifling a yawn

   She nods, “It was a lot of fun. The four of us were jammed into one small tent, it was all we could afford at the time, and the nights did get terribly cold but we were together. We would cook our meals over the fire, eggs and meats for breakfast, grilled sandwiches or made soups for lunch, then we'd have some game papa caught for dinner. It was usually rabbit served with potatoes.”

   You snuggle deeper into her, humming in acknowledgement to get her to continue. She smiles, quickly kissing your cheek to show her appreciation, and of course her love for you.

   “We would tell stories around the fire before bed, Pietro liked the scary ones the best. Sometimes he would go fishing with dad and my mom would take me around the forest, helping me to identify the different mushrooms, berries and flowers. It was always so interesting to know which ones were actually edible.” she tells you, pausing briefly to inspect your sleepy face 

   You smile groggily at her, so she continues, “In the winter time it was far too cold to go camping, but we were still allowed to go out and play for a bit, so long as we bundled up appropriately. Pietro and I would build snowmen, make snow angels and have snowball fights before we would go back inside for a cup of mamas hot cocoa. After that we’d go back out, just to enjoy a short walk through the woods. It was so beautiful to see everything covered in snow. The small animal tracks here and there, the few bushes that produce red berries that stood out so brightly against the white.”

   When she doesn’t receive a response she looks back at you, and finds your eyes tight shut. You're fast asleep, soft snores leaving you as your breathing remains steady. She carefully cups your face

   “I’m glad my story helped you.” she tells you, kissing your cheek, “Goodnight malysh(baby), sleep well.”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69​​​​ @mmmmokdok​​​​ @nataliasknife​​​​ @natashasilverfox​​​​ @when-wolves-howl​​​​ @danveration​​​​ @naomi-m3ndez​​​​ @sheneonromanoff​​​​ @sayah13​​​​ @likefirenrain​​​​ @nighttime-dreaming​​​​ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece​​​​ @chaoticevilbakugo​​​​ @crystalstark02​​​​ @wackymcstupid​​​​ @xchaiix​​​​ @iaminluvwithnat​​​​ @lovelyy-moonlight​​​​ @mistressofinsomnia​​​​ @that-one-gay-mosquito​​​​ @yomamagf​​​​ @yourfavdummy​​​​ @justarandomreaderxoxo​​​​ @scoutlp23-blog​​​​ @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145​​​​ @eline03 @wizardofstories​​​​ @imthenatynat​​​​ 

#wanda maximoff #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #flufftober2022 #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n

[herri-writes]

Clingy

Ritsu Sakuma x Reader

Note: Another day, another short fic. Goddamnit. I can rant on how the heck I imagined a certain someone irl attempting to bite my hands (Well that happened after teasing him ofc with a small tickling and pinching session. My hands and arms became red afterwards HSHSHSHSHSHSHS)

Warning: Swearing. It's been a year. I am not supposed to swear a lot this year and I'm still trying not to swearTT

You dashed your way towards Knights' practice room. You were practically wobbling as you ran. You tried to stay awake by slapping your cheeks, jumping, and running yet it worked a little but your sleepy mind wanted you to rest. You shook your head as you felt your eyelids get heavier as you reached the practice room. You opened the door to see if anyone's here but to your surprise, no one is in here, not even a single person.

You groaned as you sat on the floor and leaned your back on the wall of the practice room. Things had gone busier when your schedule is occupied for a week and you barely had time to rest due to producer work. You sighed in distress and closed your eyes as you felt the exhaustion running through your system.

Your mind woke up as you heard footsteps in the practice room. Your eyes remained closed but you could almost recognize the voice around you.

"Uchuu~ Producer, we're here!"

"Leo, don't disturb the producer."

"Knights' practice is cancelled because we're late searching for Leo."

"Hmm... we should put the producer on one of the makeshift beds we prepared for Ritsu. The coffin bed is also here isn't it?"

"Put the producer there and they'll be my pillow while they're asleep."

"I think it's best for her to sleep at the infirmary."

You felt a weight in your lap but your eyes are too tired to open. "Meh. Too late, Secchan." Your heart rate quickened when you recognize that voice too easily. Even though you're sound asleep, you can feel the blood rushing up to your cheeks and warmed up.

'Wake up, sleepyhead!' You told yourself and tried to move your arm to rub your eyes awake but exhaustion completely invaded your system. 'Curses... of all things Ritsu could do to me is just sleep on my lap? I am awake but my body isn't. Am I dead?'

"Should we leave them...?" Arashi asked the others and Izumi nodded. "I don't think we could." Tsukasa said as he pointed the ginger on the floor, lying on his belly, composing a song with the music sheets and was now scattered on the floor.

"Ahahahaha! Inspiration! Inspiration is overflowing! Hehehehe..." Leo exclaimed as he continued to write the melody from his head. Izumi facepalmed when he knew the reason: You and Ritsu napping the day away.

You scrunched your nose while you mentally scold yourself, making it seem like you're stirred yourself awake. Ritsu noticed this and wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face on your belly. He felt your body moved a little. He smirked when he remembered that you're ticklish.

'Ritsu, what the heck are you doing?!' You mentally sweatdropped when you suddenly became his pillow. 'Mao, please get me. I am begging!'

"Ritsu, if you don't want them to leave, you can just put them on one of the makeshift beds." Izumi pointed out the beds on the back corners of the practice room and continued, "Don't give them a hard time. Soooo annoying~"

Ritsu shifted himself to face the others and gave Izumi a smug look. "Secchan, producer will be fine here. Don't be bitter." He turned back to face you and continued to nap.

'Really? He's not bitter you bloodsucking sloth. He just want you to give me space.' You thought and tried to flick his forehead but it was nearly impossible for you because of your sleeping companion.

Minutes had passed which it felt like hours, you finally able to flutter your eyes open. You stretched yourself awake and forgot what you just heard earlier when your brain is active in your sleep. Just as you were about to stand up, you felt a weight on your legs.

'I almost forgot that this little devil here is sleeping on my lap.' You look down to see Ritsu sleeping. You sighed in relief because he was just sleeping on you but the gods above was never in your side today.

You closed your eyes and waited for him to leave. At the same time, he opened his eyes and began nuzzling his face to your belly. "Ha—" You exclaimed and you went into a fit of laughter when he laid his hands to your waist.

"Ritsu, please—!" Your words cut off with your laughs. This little shit never showed mercy to your pleas whenever he has an attempt to make fun of you and to tease you.

"What's going on? Ritsu, stop teasing the producer. Soooo annoying~" Izumi groaned as he heard you laughing. Ritsu clicked his tongue when he heard Izumi groaned and whined at his moment with you but that didn't stop him there.

Ritsu didn't stop tickling you until you felt your body lying down to the ground. He knew that you're about to surrender at the torture and rise up from his lying position. Now, your whole body on the floor as Ritsu tickled you.

Unknown to you two, Arashi recorded the whole tickle session that Ritsu gave you. She quietly giggled as she recorded everything.

"Ritsu... please— Aha! Stop!" You yelled and he let you go from the torture. You panted for air while that stupid smile remained on your face. Your eyes half-lidded and face red from laughter. Your felt dizzy and nauseous. You sighed in relief and looked at the vampire on you. Your face went even more red when you realized the position you two are in. Your eyes widen when you know all too well that it didn't end there.

Ritsu lied down and faced you as he wrapped himself all over you, making you as his body pillow. He took your hand and brought it to his mouth and began kissing it. You jolted at the sudden contact of his lips to your hand. You felt chills on your spine when his teeth grazed on the back of your hand. You suppressed the whimpers in your throat as he playfully nibbled your fingertips. You nearly yelped when you felt him licking the side of your hand.

You irked and pinched his arm that held your hand but he didn't flinch. Instead, he bit it, leaving a mark. You glared at Ritsu who is currently smirking behind your hand. You finally remember why he acted clingy towards you.

You look up to see Arashi and her phone's camera facing you and Ritsu. Red began to creep towards your face and she put her phone down. She gestured you to stay quiet and you nodded in return. Leo jumped up from his lying position and laughed out loud. He ran out of the practice room to look for more inspiration which that made you sigh. You felt Ritsu move and your attention went to him as he spoke.

"Now you understand why you shouldn't ignore me for the whole day. You're facing the consequences, producer." Ritsu said and he hugged you tight. "And don't overwork yourself. I'm forcing you to rest. So nap with me..." Soft snores took place from his drowsy words. You sighed and patted his head and hummed, lulling him to sleep.

W/N:

Curse Little Romance for sending me ideas. Okay this is the last fic I PROMISE. I WILL CONTINUE WITH MY STUDIES PLS LEO GET OUT OF ME— *INCOHERENT SCREECHING*

#written by herri #ensemble stars #enstars #ritsu sakuma #sakuma ritsu #ritsu sakuma x reader #sakuma ritsu x reader #i have two hands. one for rei and one for ritsu #OKAY OKAY THIS IS LAST FIC FOR THE MONTH. I HAVE A PPTX CONFESSION PRESENTATION TO MAKE AT SEMBREAK #PLS SUPPORT ME WHILE I CONFESS TO MY KAZUHA KINNIE CRUSH #he's the mao to my ritsu. shuddup #JUST PLS LET ME FINISH MY RITSUMAO FIC I AM BEGGING YOU SCHOOL PLS DON'T BE A BTCH #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader

[sewerpeaches]

The Answer to the Age Old Question:

Who is older, Donatello or Raphael?

The long answer that you didn't come here for is: it depends on the continuity. So you can find my breakdowns for each continuity here (eventually).

The short answer:

Donatello

Why?

#1. "Word of God" #2. IDW Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2011), volume 5 #3. Character/family/team dynamics #4. Aesthetics

~ 1 ~

For those unfamiliar with the term, the Word of God is "A statement regarding some ambiguous or undefined aspect of a work, the Word of God comes from someone considered to be the ultimate authority, such as the creator, director, writer or producer of a TV show / video game / film / etc."

With that in mind, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird co-created Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in 1984. Unlike a fair amount of co-created series, TMNT is actually an evenly split brain-child (ie neither Eastman nor Laird seems to be any more responsible for or involved in its creation/production/etc than the other).

On August 14, 2014, Kevin Eastman stated "I'm going to take a bold step and say Donatello is older" during a Reddit AMA .

I couldn't find so much as a whiff of Peter Laird's explicit opinion on the matter (for all my searching... and there was a lot), but that also means that I never found him contradicting Kevin Eastman's statement. (More subjectively, Laird seems to have essentially directed the 2k3 run and I'll post my take on why 2k3 has peak little-brother Raph energy here (eventually))

At any rate, if you're the type of person who accepts the "Word of God" at face value, then continue no further! I, however, don't do that—hence why this is only reason 1 of 3 (4).

~ 2 ~

If you're not familiar with IDW Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2011) then read it, because it's phenomenal, it's the franchise's longest running piece of media ever and up until volume 100, original co-creator Kevin Eastman co-wrote the series and collaborated on page layouts. The much acclaimed Last Ronin, the first thing written by both Eastman and Laird since the original Mirage run, is set in the IDW-verse as its own version of SAINW.

The premise of the IDW run is that Splinter's and the Turtles' souls are reincarnated from those of a human family that lived in feudal japan (yes it sounds stupid, but it's touched on very little and is executed surprisingly well). And that means that the Turtles' corresponding human-selves are all visibly different ages (because unlike turtles, it's not so common for humans to have quadruplets).

So when we see the Turtles' human selves in volume 5...

It's clear in both appearance and mannerisms that Don is older than Raph.

They're definitely the closest in age of the siblings, but still most assuredly different ages.

Besides Raph being smaller than Don with shorter and chubbier limbs, his hairstyle also strikes me as more baby-like (kinda like the ancient version of the ponytail parent's give their 1 year olds when they don't have enough hair yet to actually do anything with). His mannerisms also lend themselves to that of a younger child—more sleepy, much more oblivious to his surroundings, and more clingy. Don's also shown to be able to stand, while Raph seems like he might not be able to yet.

~ 3 ~

This reason is subjective, which is why I've listed it last and need more space to elaborate on it. You'll find the unabridged version on my blog at some point under this tag (eventually), because I simply have Too Many Thoughts™ to contain within a post not dedicated specifically to it.

The short of it is: Donatello's character has always seemed to be designed around being second-in-charge—both in team and family contexts.

I don't think anyone would argue against the fact that Don is the go-to turtle. Doesn't matter what continuity you look at, when Leo anyone runs into a problem, they turn to Don.

You could argue that Donnie's the smart one and "so it only makes sense to turn to him to fix a problem" (and that's a bit of a catch-22 that I'll talk about in more detail in the unabridged version!). However... he's not a real person and so him being the smart one that characters always turn to when Leo falters (including Leo!) is a deliberate choice by the creators. And in the context of the The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle's very traditional operating style—with heavy emphasis on hierarchy by age, blood, etc.—it's very telling.

Were they a real family, yes, they would have developed their personalities/aptitudes mostly independently of their birth order, but given that specifically assigning children roles/ideals based on birth order is a significant player in Japanese culture (especially ancient Japanese culture which pertains to ninjitsu on which TMNT is based)... well... (I mean just look at how Splinter treats Leo).

Anyway, looking at the TMNT franchise as a whole, the advancement of the plot, in 9/10 cases, hinges on Don coming up with a solution either (1) via Leo coming up with something, pointing him in a direction, and asking "Don can you make [insane thing] work?" or (2) when Leo stalls entirely and Don has to take over. And though it's a formula, it's a formula with a million different permutations so it stays interesting.

Raph's role is to go into a berserker rage and brute force a second-wind powerup when when fighting is the only option. He's as the one who makes the first option work when Leo & Don are stuck and he has to, not the one who comes up with the second option. And, narrative-wise, it would be boring and lazy for the Turtles to only ever brute force plan A. (Happy to say I wrote this before I saw Laird say the same thing about Raph (bottom of #55))

That very distinct chain-of-command is why we get things like this, which is much more interesting and satisfying than beat-the-thing-until-it-stops:

The same follows in terms of family dynamics. Leo & Raph are simply too similar for the family to feel "balanced" if they're the two eldest brothers. There's no functionality in a family where 1 & 2 are providing nothing different or, worse, butting heads. Don holds the emotional stability of the family in the palm of his hand, largely just by existing as the buffer between Leo & Raph (we all know what happens in SAINW).

And, just from a characterization perspective, it seems much more natural for Raph to turn to Don for comfort than vice versa.

(Again, I'm gonna just... aggressively point to IDW.)

I'll go into this much more in the unabridged version, but I wanted to touch upon it here: setting Don aside for a moment, I see so many people argue for Raph being the second son based entirely upon his attitude towards Leo and ignoring everything and everyone else. It sorta drives me insane, tbh. I think it's a wildly shallow interpretation of his character.

Raph's entire hang-up is not around being second best, it's around being denied authority/autonomy in general—you know, stemming from being a mutant and being banned from doing 9/10 things he'd like to? That's why we see him fighting with Leo; Leo is the only authority he can fight (putting aside crime syndicate-type authority which he also fights obv). But more importantly, we also see him exerting as much power as he can by playfully, not cruelly bullying Mikey //glares at 2k12 (and in more source-compliant adaptations, yes, it is only Mikey that he truly messes with //glares harder at 2k12) or going off solo.

As much as I love 2k7, specifically the Leo/Raph dynamic, it's not actually a good representation of their real relationship—more of a spin-off "what if" (which Laird has also said). And 2k12 is ok plot-wise, but as far as I'm concerned it mostly fails at creating any compelling character dynamics and it crashes and burns in terms of staying true to source material. C':

~ 4 ~

Finally, I will end this post with my strongest argument for Don being second-eldest...

Sunset Aesthetic

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #raphael tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt don #don tmnt #raph tmnt #tmnt raph #donatello #raphael #tmnt age discourse #the age old question #sewerpeach prose #Kevin Eastman

[katya45kg]

Weightloss tips u may not know about or do but don’t know the science behind them 🩷🫶🏻

1. After a 48hr fast your dopamine receptors reset. For example: a mars bar gives u a dopamine hit? Gone. Try eating fruit now, it will taste better, sweeter & its more healthy for u. - source “Fast like a girl by Dr Mindy Peltz”

2. The reasons why people can’t stop themselves from binging is because of sugar and flour. Eating those foods or food containing them MAKE u hungry. The best way to satisfy yourself after a meal is to cut those products out. I eat only fruits and vegetables and i find that after lets say 2 tomatoes or a banana, i feel satisfied. Some days all i eat is a piece of fruit for snack and a salad for dinner & im fine. - source “Bright line eating by Susan Peirce Thompson”

3. After 3 days of fasting, the hunger goes away. Push through it & you’ll notice it gets easier. When u break your fast ALWAYS do it with something healthy like fruits or vegetables. Going back to like ice cream will ruin the dopamine receptors and you will crave unhealthy foods again. - source I can’t remember but ive heard it heaps on YT videos & ive tried it and can vouch for that tip.

4. After 2mins of running or high intensity exercise, your body runs out of energy & begins to fuel you by producing cortisol to keep u going. High amounts of cortisol results in your body storing BELLY FAT. So if u happen to notice that u store belly fat mainly, that could be the reason. Source - Autumn Bates on YT (i forgot which vid but i think maybe it was a tik tok, sorry.)

5. Starvation mode is a myth. Look at prisoners of war for example. They are so emaciated due to lack of food, if “starvation mode” was true, they wouldn’t end up like that. Maybe u may not loose for a few days but that is your body holding water or possibly gaining muscle, if it prolongs further than this see my next tip. Source - i forgot im so sorry, possibly a podcast?

6. Your body has a natural rhythm known as the circadian rhythm. This in short like an internal clock that regulates our sleep-wake cycle and other bodily functions. It helps us feel awake during the day and sleepy at night. It's influenced by factors like light exposure, hormones, and daily routines. It means that your body doesn’t digest food the same at night, if at all. It isn’t supposed to. If u feed yourself after 6-8pm, the digestion process is slower, much slower. This can cause to hormones being released at the wrong time, storing fat, keeping u awake etc. It is best to not eat after 6pm (if u heard this tip from ur mother growing up, it is actually science backed, its not so u “eat less & that makes u loose weight” its because u stop eating after a certain time. It is actually because your body isn’t designed to digest food late in the night and so u loose fat easier.) Source - “Change your schedule, change your life by Dr Suhas Kshirsagar”

7. Birth-control whacks out your hormones. If u are on BC & find u have all these cravings & can’t seem to restrict, thats most likely the reason why. A lot of doctors will tell u “its just water weight” but thats not the case. The constant stream of synthetic hormones keeps your body in a state that similarly reflects how u feel the week before your period (bloated, craving, tired etc) and u feel this way continuously. Im not saying go off birth-control but if you are puzzled as to why u may feel like this & u are on BC this may be the reason. Source “Your brain on birth control by Sarah Hill”

8. Also on the topic of hormones, if u aren’t loosing weight no matter what u do or its very slow progress, it can be due to a hormonal imbalance. Exactly which one im not sure, it depends on you and your body. U can see which hormones are out of balance via online tests (idk what to google i read it in a book). Completing tests online can give u a rough idea of which hormones may be unbalanced and then u can go to your doctor and request certain tests to medically check. Your dr can then advise you on what to do to balance them. You may also have hyperthyroidism which can make u constantly tired, unable to loose weight and sensitive to stress. Source - “Hormone repair manual by Lara Briden”.

That is all i can think of rn. I have read all books i have sited & many many more. There is definitely a huge science to weight loss and i may make another post in the future stating what i have learnt. Most books are written by drs or people of similar qualifications. I applied all these to my life and loose weight continuously. My mother is also a certified nutritionist, personal trainer and life coach & she also follows all these things & has read the same if not more books. She is almost 50 & bmi 18.3 & has consistently been this way for my whole 21yrs of living even after having 3 kids. She doesn’t loose weight due to her high calorie intake (like 3k cals a day) but she also doesn’t gain weight so if u follow these examples by restricting u will see major weightloss. I also have lost 5kg in 8 days from following these tips this relapse & last relapse i lost 30kg in 4ish months from these tips.

[nambaeksan]

hellooooo again again friends, just me! (lis, she/her) bringing yet another child who has lived in my brain for lord knows how long, bae. below the cut is some quick stuff about bae and some random connections i could come up with but you can find his stats here and his full bio here! just throw a like at this and i'll come attack your im's or discord for plots (:

about. - the shortest tldr; bae runs an online vintage shop, where he searching through local consignment shops for cool pieces he could take home and bring back to life, even reforming some that are too far gone; though his ultimate goal is to be a fashion designer, creating pieces of his own. he was born and raised in seoul, having lived with his aunt since the age of four after his mother passed away. currently he still lives with her in his childhood home and has a little office space he rents that he uses for his shop.

personality. bae is a ball of energy. period. he is always on the go, always finding a new thrift store to explore or fabric store to raid. in his mind bae will rest when he is dead and he takes that to HEART. the type of person who lights up a room and commands attention, even without realizing it. bae is friends with all walks of life, loving have people around him but if you do even one thing to break his trust? you’re out of his life without even a second thought.

★·.·´¯`·.·★

possible connections. - a muse. someone bae feels inspired to create pieces for. could have some sort of crush component to it or not! - someone in the entertainment industry (trainee, idol, producer, anybody) that bae has been able to get wearing his original pieces or something he's reformed. this friendship may have taken off because bae saw them as someone he could use to get his name out there but maybe they become friends? or there's some drama from it? - old school friends! bae was born and raised in seoul and has never left so it's likely he crossed paths with people before. - also literally anything else! this is just what my sleepy brain was able to come up with <3

#jongno:hello

[ianschip]

One boy that was my friend

In university, I felt (and still feel) so blessed to have met such friendly souls. The friends I made belonged to a generation older than mine but I fit in perfectly, I was funny and they liked my ideas; I wrote scripts for them to direct and produce. I suppose they must have liked a younger person in the group for often what immature brains lack in experience they sometimes make up for in idealism. Nothing seems impossible to them.

There was Katya who was (and is) hilarious, one time we took a cab together and we cried-laughed all trip long because we were making ridiculous sounds out loud, and it wasn’t even that funny we just had a lot of chemistry, and I’m pretty sure everyone in that cab thought we were on crack. Just remembering that ride makes me smirk. We went on having moments like that even to this day, our sense of humor is just so equally stupid we are the perfect match for each other.

So Katya’s house used to be the place where we hung out, birthday parties, christmas parties, we-just-want-to-drink-and-hang-out-parties, and so on. And there we felt very free, it was nice belonging to a group of friends who didn’t feel judgmental, and even if we did talk lip about others, we did it in their face and nobody got butt-hurt.

There was one person who would never talk lip about anyone, though, because he was sweet and his heart was soft. He would never cuss, and said ‘sorry’ for anything, and was caring. It’s hard to find the words to describe someone so sweet, specially a man. I guess he’s the type of person someone would say: he would never hurt a fly. I called him Jochechuy. A babyfied version of his real name.

So in university, I used to sneak in my friend group’s classes because it was really fun to be together. They often asked the teacher if I could come in their class even if I wasn’t taking that class. And I used to sit aside Katya, and Jochechuy used to sit aside me.

Katya-Me-Jochechuy.

And very often I used to play with Jochechuy’s hair. And it was okay because he had a girlfriend so I didn’t feel like I was flirting. And while we took our lessons together, in the same classroom, I would gently scratch his skull with my fingertips, and then he would put his hand in my knee and caress it. And that thing happened on the daily. However, it never felt sexual. It felt sweet and innocent. We never said out out loud how cozy that felt but we could sense it, we both knew. I don’t think his girlfriend knew, though.

After I graduated I never really saw him again because he lived very far away, he saw some other people from that friend group, though. I didn’t see him for years, and I missed him so much without realizing it, one could believe encountering people that sweet is common, but not for me, finding tenderness in people has been hard.

But I saw him last week. Katya made a christmas reunion. It felt like not a single day passed, I put my head on his shoulder, and he would just gently touch my face. And he would put his chair close to mine, and I wouldn’t mind. Our brains were wired like that, even after so much time passed, my chip was coded to feel completely comfortable with his touch.

The most beautiful moment of that night, and the spiritual climax of this text, happened at 3AM, when we were taking turns to play Mario Party and at one point him and I were giving the controllers to other people so we could keep playing with each other’s hair. And at one point Katya and her boyfriend noticed and Katya fell asleep and her boyfriend took both controllers and started playing Mario Party with himself, and Jochechuy and I remained there, sleepy, him caressing my arm, and I caressing his curly hair. I now know he has liked me all along and broke up with his girl because he is bisexual. Maybe I could go on to the date he suggested, he told me: let’s go for some coffee, it’s a date. I think… maybe I’m ready for new tenderness, I think I believe people can be good. We can be good. We are good.

[meds4beatlemania]

Til There was You (one-shot)

A/N: for Day 1 of McLennon week 2022, the theme was Hamburg. So, enjoy this one-shot where John is injured after a night out and Paul comes to his rescue!

John couldn’t remember the last he’d looked at the time. He hadn’t needed to - with a pop of Pep pills and the cheapest German beer the Silver Beatles could splurge on, it was like his fingers teleported from a bottle to his guitar’s fret to the tits of some hammered bird in the Star’s alleyway. With his drugged brain compressing the hours of sweating and screaming into minutes, who needs to keep track? 

She was German, that much his drunk ‘n drugged mind understood. He could not speak a word of German.  However, he did speak “horny drunk” and - how serendipitous! - she was looking for some action, too. 

It ended quick, though. They might’ve made out for almost an hour - probably not even that, and she wanted out. She shoved him off of her. 

“Oomf!” John’s lungs compressed against the back of his ribs as the bird left in tears. His head banged against the rough bricks of the neighboring bar. He groaned as his ass hit the asphalt, ruining his leather trousers. He got up and stumbled in a circle as his brain worked on over drive - getting his lungs to take in air normally again, pumping adrenaline to his ass and head; pumpong blood to keep him warm; discarding the Pep and producing the melatonin that it had prohibited; kicking his memory like a dead lawnmower - Where did the guys go? When did it get so cold? How long has it been? What the fuck happened to my watch? Where’s our room? 

Oh, he was screwed.  

Well, John concluded, better start walking. 

There was nary a thought behind John’s eyes as tried to appear sober along Hamburg’s nightlife. He braced the back of his head - a migraine starting to form. He brought his hand back, wiping the metallic sweat on his clothes. He mumbled some lyrics - vaguely reminiscent of Mama Thornton’s Hound Dog, mixed with Elvis’ version.  

You ain’t nothing but a hound dog, 

Been snoopin ‘round my door 

You ain’t nothing but a hound dog

Well, you ain’t ever got caught a rabbit,

Don’t think of comin’ ‘round here no more 

As he came around to a dry, empty alleyway, every step on loose gravel pierced the nerves of his feet. Exhausted, sweaty, aching, and crashing from his high, he gave up on finding their room.

 Better luck in the morning, perhaps.

He yawned, leaning head against the wall for support. 

So, so many footsteps echoed down the alleyway. 

“There you are!” 

Nah, he’s probably just talking to a cat. 

“Oh, you fucking moron.” John winced as the footsteps got louder - closer. Through the drowsiness, his memory lit up as a familiar face was outlined. 

“Just…wanna fucking..fuckin sleep…” 

“You can sleep when we get to the room. Or a hospital.”  Paul grunted as he tried to lift his friend from the ground. 

“Noooo..” 

“Shit, can you stand? Like, at all? Can’t do this alone, ya know!” 

“Fuchkoff!” John forced his legs to at least squat, and Paul finally had enough leverage to lift John by his shoulder. 

“That’s it..That’s it…Lean on me, now.” 

“Than..christ.” John only had to make his feet move, no matter how much they ached in his cowboy boots. 

 “So what the fuck happened?” 

“Dunno. Some bird just…” he weakly gestured a pushing movement, trying to find the words for it. 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. I must’ve hit it hard, me head’s bleedin’, I think.” Everything lifted from his shoulders-  his weight, the migraine, the sleepiness. Maybe he was beginning to feel better. Until his ears started to get blurry. 

“Yeah. Made it easy to follow you.” 

“What?” He squinted, trying to hear his friend. 

“Yeah, ye left a bit of a trail - drops of blood starting at the club, right past our room, and back to the club.” Paul chuckled. 

John sighed, preferring not to talk. 

When they finally got back the room, it was repulsive. Everything about it would’ve caused Mimi to have a heart attack - the pile of moldy vomit next to George’s bed, George sleeping half-way off of the edge, Pete -for some reason- slept on the floor with a blanket and pillow next to a stripped bed, and Klaus was on a train to Liverpool with Astrid. 

Paul assessed John’s wound.

Yer mum was a nurse, wasn't she?

No. She was a midwife.

Oh, same difference.

He grimaced as John winced at every moving strand of hair  “I..uh..I don’t think ye lost too much blood. Hard to tell. Might be better to get it checked in the morning, though.” 

“I could die by then.” John whined. 

“Oh, shove it, softie.” Paul chuckled. He lightly poked John’s wound. “No, straight up, you’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. “ John yawned, leaning back on the naked bed. He stretched, and yawned, popping his jaw a little. “Night, Macca.” 

“Night, Lenny.” 

Paul turned out the light and settled on the floor, falling asleep and silently dreading the morning back pain as much as his friend’s morning agony.

#mclennonweek2022 #platonic mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #beatles fanfiction #the beatles

[carpemor1]

I am chronically ill.

As the heading suggests, I am a sufferer of chronic illness. I hope to shed some light on a few of the things I've struggled with to be informative and show other chronically ill people that they are not alone.

I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (a connective tissue disorder.) This causes a whole slew of problems throughout my entire body. Because it is a completely genetic condition, I was born with it. I was born with a double hernia and had to have surgery to repair it at six weeks old. I didn't get a diagnosis or treatment until I was 16 because, hard as I tried to get doctors to listen to me, I was told my problems were caused by stress and my weight. I bet you can guess my sex.

I have arthritis all throughout my body, but it's the worst in my back because I have Spondyloarthritis. Before I was medicated for this in 2019, I was in horrific pain every single day. I remember one night crying my eyes out after taking out the trash in my house. My spine ached so bad I couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream.

I also deal with partial dislocations, called subluxations, daily. I've had a few full dislocations in my left knee that eventually led to me needing an MPFL reconstruction in 2021. And no, I didn't injure myself playing sports, or doing hard labor. I was just walking. After that surgery I immediately had such a huge buildup of scar tissue surrounding my knee that I couldn't even get my leg to bend to a 90° angle. I had to go back under anesthesia to have them bend my knee because of how excruciating the pain was trying to bend it on my own. It ended up building back up and I had to stretch my knee until I literally felt and heard my tissue tear apart.

After I had finally healed from that, I noticed some different symptoms start to appear. Just a few months ago, I noticed that I would go completely blind in my right eye every time I stood up or did anything that caused me to squeeze my muscles. I visited an ophthalmologist when I noticed it was getting worse, not better. The doctor ordered an MRI and a spinal tap to confirm that it was, as he correctly guessed, Intracranial Hypertension. In layman's terms, my brain produces too much spinal fluid and the built up pressure is cutting off blood flow to my optic nerves. If I had gone with my initial plan to ignore it for a bit longer, I could have permantly lost some of my eyesight.

This is just a small number of stories out of the many that I have, but I'm getting sleepy. Hopefully you learned something new if you've never dealt with these illnesses, and if you have, I hope you feel less alone.

In conclusion:

#ehlers danlos awareness #ehlers danlos syndrome #chronic illness #chronic pain #medicine #support #informative #spoonie #medication #nursing #arthritis #my experiences #spongebob #bob sponge #spreading awareness #awareness #health care #rheumatology #idiopathic intracranial hypertension #ramblings #funny memes #wholesome memes #subtitles #hospital #medical problems #medical ptsd #medical professionals #gen z shit #please help #share this

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Find the Word Tag

Tagged by @amapofyourstars thanks!

From Syndicate:

boots

The one thing that Jesse had that was actually useful that I didn't already know (but he shouldn’t have) was a handwritten piece of paper under Raymond’s picture with a hotel address, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t even asked Raymond where he was staying when we’d talked before. I realized, as my boots stomped into the puddles along the sidewalk, that I wasn’t heading home but to Raymond’s hotel.

I paused and looked around. I was pretty sure no one was following me, but I circled back around the block for a moment, looking around. If Jasmine had spied on me watching Mika, I wouldn't put it past her to watch me now— but if she had, and there was a chance Zacahry didn't already know everything, then he was about to.

flowers

I checked my watch. Just about 6. His face dropped a bit when I looked back at him, but all he said was, “It’s pretty here, isn’t it?”

I nodded— it was, the garden was full of flowers more in bloom than I’d expect for the season, with a stone path winding between them. “How’re you affording this?” I asked, and I didn’t mean for it to be judgemental but maybe I can’t help myself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed me, then gestured to follow him to the walkway and then up the stairs to the second floor, producing a key from his pocket to unlock it and lead me into the room.

sarcastic

Of course I was lying. That moment was etched into my memory. That moment was what I returned to. But it was also something—in a way, the thing—I couldn’t tell her.

I took a deep breath, and it sucked, because even if we weren’t letting our guards down, she’d opened up to me, she’d trusted me, and she’d offered me something that I needed and she needed, but I couldn’t.

How could I give her an answer? If she’d asked me this just yesterday it would’ve been so easy to brush her off, to give some sarcastic comment that would make her pissed. 

“You are,” she sighed. “Fine. Whatever. We can not talk about that.” She stared out the window, jaw set. 

It was unfair, though, I knew that. I couldn't tell her, but I knew it was hurting her, that she was still grieving him, and that maybe he was the only reason she was taking a chance with me. Goddamnit, Raymond.

genuine

Raymond shrugged. “Yeah, it would’ve been nice. It’s okay though, you had places to be, and we were meeting. I get it.” He took a sip of soda. “Avoiding contact.” His voice had shrunk.

I nodded slowly, suddenly unsure. It wasn’t that I would have acted differently— even if I could have sent Raymond some sort of never-mind message, there still would have been a chance that they’d be in the same place. On top of that, she could’ve seen the Copper Court photo. But I was less concerned with what I maybe could have done and more concerned with what I should be feeling. I didn’t regret not accompanying Mika, but maybe I should. And maybe I should have put it together, realized what was going on.

Raymond was the one who got stuff like that. When I was younger I’d been baffled by it. By now I’d realized he was just genuinely a kinder person than I was. I could partially blame Zachary for that— you don’t train a good assassin by teaching them to care about other people. 

morning

It took a second to recognize her, but my brain was racing and already up in Zachary’s office— it was Mika, holding a mug of tea— a very normal scene at this time in the morning. She raised an eyebrow at me, probably wondering why I’d acted like I didn't recognize her, though I didn't know myself and I didn’t want to try to interact with her anyway. Just seeing her reminded me of Raymond, mad at me and leaving, and it threatened to pull me out of focus. I hardly acknowledged her further, just continued up the stairs, and recast Focus before I knocked on Zachary’s door. “It’s me,” I announced.

Tagging @sleepy-night-child @vellichor-virgo @teardropsandtherain and anyone else who wants to. Your words are: believe, offer, dismiss, concern, & recognize

#find the word tag #my writing #syndicate

[teabooksandsweets]

A City of Bells

Chapter I — Part V

“Mr. Jocelyn,” said Sarah, and left them together.

The welcome that the two old people gave to their grandson was typical of them. Grandfather bounced to his feet and hurried forward delightedly, his hand out and his whole face beaming. Here, his manner implied, was the one person whom of all others he was most anxious to see and in whose welfare he was most interested. And there was no insincerity in his welcome. His interest in his fellow-creatures was so deep that whoever was with him at the moment seemed to him to be the very best of God’s creatures … And Jocelyn was his favourite grandson.

Grandmother, meanwhile, sat in her chair very stiffly, her hands folded on her knitting, and waited to see how Jocelyn had developed before committing herself. Her bright eyes darted critically over him, noting his fair, close-cut hair and moustache, his trim figure, well-brushed clothes and slight air of fatigue.

“Humph,” she said, “you’re improved. More like your dear mother and less like your father, thank God. I never could take to your father, good man of business though he is.”

“Dear Jane,” murmured Grandfather, “there is good in all.”

“I didn’t say there wasn’t,” said Grandmother, “I merely said that I don’t take to the good in Thomas … You dress better than you did, Jocelyn. When you were at Oxford you were a radical, I remember, and dressed accordingly. I told your mother what I thought about it at the time, but she said she had no influence. I will say for the Army that it teaches the compatibility of a sense of duty with a crease in the trousers … You may kiss me, Jocelyn.”

His kiss produced one of her rare moments of softening and she touched his cheek gently with one of her dainty, mittened hands. “You look tired, dear boy,” she said. “You’d better be fed up. I’m sorry about your leg, but, as I said to your grandfather, it’s a mercy it wasn’t your stomach or your brain. Given belief in God, a good digestion and a mind in working order life’s still a thing to be grateful for.”

She abruptly stopped talking and became engrossed in the ritual of tea-making, her little hands hovering over the old silver and Worcester cups and saucers. A hush fell, the steam from the tea-kettle rose into the air like incense and the fragrance of china tea mingled with the scent of flowers. Jocelyn leant back restfully in his chair, feeling life halt a little and its grip on him relax. It seemed no longer a river in spate, whirling him along without time for thought or feeling, but a calm backwater where the opening of a flower and the song of a bird would be important and significant.

“Does time ever pass in Torminster?” he asked Grandfather.

“Dear me, no, dear boy, nothing ever passes here. The past steps into the background, of course, but it never seems to disappear … I think, dear Jane, that you are putting too much milk in Jocelyn’s tea.”

“It’s a sleepy place,” pronounced Grandmother. “I’ve started two working parties for Missions to wake them up a bit, but I never saw women make flannel petticoats so slowly in all my life … Thank you, Theobald, but I am quite capable, at my age, of making a drinkable cup of tea … Help yourself to bread and dripping, Jocelyn.”

It was not perhaps usual to eat bread and dripping at afternoon tea, but Grandfather liked bread and dripping and insisted upon having it, in spite of Grandmother’s repeated assurances that it “was not done.” It was his habit to do what he liked, whether it was “done” or not, provided that what he liked was compatible with his religion … He did not eat dripping in Lent.

“Where’s Hugh Anthony?” asked Jocelyn.

“Having his tea downstairs,” said Grandfather. “We find that best. He’s eight years old and exhausting, though a dear boy. We’ve adopted a little girl to keep him company, thinking female influence might quiet him down, but there’s little improvement noticeable as yet.”

“Your grandfather’s latest,” said Grandmother in resigned tones. “He saw the child at that orphanage he’s on the board of, liked her eyes and brought her straight home with nothing to her name but a Bible, three pinafores and a couple of vests. Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous?”

“I was guided to do it,” said Grandfather.

“Well, all I can say is I hope someone will be guided to care for the poor children after our death,” said Grandmother forcibly, and sighed. She had been married to a saint for fifty years, but still found it as difficult to adjust herself as she had done in the first month of her marriage, when he had given away their bed to a woman whose need, he felt, was greater than theirs.

“When that dear child’s eyes met mine,” said Grandfather, “I knew that her welfare was my responsibility … I have sometimes thought, dear Jane, that, should Jocelyn marry, he might, after our death, feel guided to take upon him the fatherhood of both those dear children.”

“Well,” said Jocelyn doubtfully, “you never know.”

“Not until the time comes,” said Grandfather happily. “So, as I say to your dear grandmother, why worry beforehand?”

The atmosphere felt a little tense and to lighten it Jocelyn asked them about the house in the Market Place.

“Who lived there?” he asked. “It’s a jolly little house. It’s a crime it should be empty.”

All the happiness drained away from Grandfather’s face, leaving him looking stricken and old, and it was Grandmother who answered.

“A young man called Gabriel Ferranti lived there,” she said. “He looked like an organ-grinder and wrote books that nobody could make head or tail of, and was considered to be clever for those reasons, though why untidy hair and an inability to make oneself understood should be the hall-mark of genius I have never been able to understand. Your grandfather took a great fancy to him; what for I don’t know.”

“There was great good in him,” murmured Grandfather sadly.

“What happened to him?” asked Jocelyn.

“He got into the financial difficulties that were only to be expected of a young man with a name like that,” said Grandmother, “and disappeared just as your poor grandfather was trying to bring out the good in him. Your grandfather naturally took it all very much to heart, for goodness only knows what has become of the young man now, or of the good that your poor grandfather thought he was bringing out.”

“If he had only told me about his difficulties,” mourned Grandfather, “I could have relieved them.”

“What with?” asked Grandmother a little sharply. “I’m thankful the young person had the good taste to disappear before you’d given him our last halfpenny … If Jocelyn’s finished his tea take him to his room while I get on with my knitting.”

The two men went out together while Grandmother’s voice drifted after them in its habitual chant of, “Knit one, purl one, knit two together.”

#torminstertravels #booklr #literature #readalong #books #a city of bells #a city of bells: chapter 1