#I literally drew this and the rest of the doctors months

[carlav-blogs]

Jodie Whittaker - 13

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending to lose consciousness and using it as an excuse to drop out of school?

This happened when I was in HS but it's still eating me up. I (18F at the time) suffer from a severe case of IBS, which went undiagnosed for years. During the events of this story, I had no idea what my illness was which I suffered from ever since I was a toddler. My parents took me to several doctor, all who insisted I was perfectly healthy. Every year, the pain would get increasingly worse, and we try a different doctor every once in a while. I gave up seeking medical help during middle school because I was frustrated, the doctors believed I was faking to skip school and refused to write me notes. My parents know I don't lie, yet the doctor's words got to them. They don't exactly think I'm faking, but they think I'm exaggerating a mild stomachache because I wanted to skip school and have no will to fight. I mean, it's true that I have a low tolerance to pain, even getting my hair straightened is a painful experience for me everytime.

Anyway, since IBS tends to attack when someone feels bad, high school was the worst period in my life for numerous reasons but mainly because I was getting severely bullied. Also due to my frustration with doctors, I started believing that my illness was terminal and had yet to be discovered and I was severely depressed thinking my death was soon, which made my IBS worse. When the pain was at its worst, it felt like my belly was being stabbed from the inside by several knives, it leaves me to exhausted to get up from my bed. I always locked my room's door so my parents wouldn't try to drag me out of the bed Whenever I wanted to skip school. Despite at the constant pain I was in, never once did I lose consciousness because of it. Sometimes I wish I could faint so I wouldn't feel the pain for a short a period of time, but it never happened.

In days which pain is manageable, I try my best to go to school, I often attended 2-3 days each week. I specifically insisted on going to this school because it's lenient, unlike the school my parents tried to send me to.

However, just because the pain was manageable, it didn't mean that I was feeling fine. The constant exhaustion from the severe IBS attacks left me tired all the time and I just wanted to lay in my bed again. I spent most of my time at school resting my head on the desk and teachers got used to it, but they drew the line at me actually falling asleep in class.

It happened when I was like 4-5 months away from graduating, I just wanted to rest, I had enough of the pain that I didn't want to set afoot in school again, but my parents wouldn't let me. Eveyrone thinks I'm fine and just exaggerating, that's why, I used my perfect acting skills to drop to the floor while sitting in my chair, I heard everyone whispering about how worrying the way I fell was, that it must be something serious. Classmates kept shaking me for a minute but I didn't react because I wanted it to look real. I eventually pretended to wake up and told them that I couldn't handle it anymore. That period was my Physics final, which I didn't study for, and I didn't want to take it. I have no idea what lessons we took because I never studied or paid attention in class, I was literally at my limit.

I was allowed to rest that day, and when I went back home I told my parents about losing consciousness and that I desperately need to rest. They allowed me to drop out on the condition I go back to school the next year, I agreed, but secretly believed I would never live that long to attend school ever again.

My best friend cried really hard when I told her we wouldn't be graduating together and begged me to reconsider. I told her my illness got worse to the point I started fainting, and I desperately needed to rest.

Of course, I'm still very much alive and learned what's actually wrong with me (I literally self diagnosed myself based on people's experiences on the internet then "confronted" a doctor about it) and the IBS attacks are mild and manageable these days since I know what I need to do to avoid them, I have a full time job and rarely ever need to skip. But the guilt is making me feel like TA for worrying everyone about me and breaking my bff's heart. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[halfadogwrites]

LET ME HELP

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X GN!READER

SOMETHING ABOUT FIRST AID AND THE KINDLING OF TRUST ; .7k

.

Men in the army are stubborn idiots hellbent on self destructing for the stupidest reasons, that much you were sure of when you walked in on Lieutenant Riley attempting to stitch up a gash in his side. Key word: attempting.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed at the sight that beheld unto you.

Ghost had his two flaps of skin pinched together like pieces of paper ready to be stapled. Blood was still leaking from the wounds, and he was using a straight needle in a situation that obviously called for a curved.

“What are you doing?” you continued, dropping your things onto the floor by the door.

“Bit of first aid,” he said simply, grimacing under that mask of his as he went for another stitch.

“STOP,” you yelled in a panic.

You were across the room seconds after entering, pulling the needle from his hand. He let it go with obvious reluctance. You had a feeling that if he wasn’t in what was obviously a great amount of paint that he would have fought back harder.

“What is this? What are you doing to yourself, Lieutenant? Good lord,” you rambled on, inspecting the damage he’d done and figuring out how to reverse it.

The lieutenant now called Ghost had a reputation that preceded him. You hadn’t heard much about him prior to a few months ago, so you assumed he must be pretty young, only just starting out his career in the British Army special forces. This would lead you to assume he would have some basic first aid training, namely “if it’s not a life or death situation, let a doctor handle it.”

“You didn’t even staunch the bleeding, you bloody idiot,” you chastised. “I take a lunch break for twenty minutes and I come back to golden boy doing cross stitch on himself. Christ…”

Luckily, Ghost didn’t get too far along before you caught him red handed in your infirmary. You bustled around getting the proper materials to stitch him up the right way. You literally slapped his hand away when you saw him reaching for another needle.

“Lie down,” you told him.

You uncapped the bottle of antiseptic and had a roll of gauze ready to catch its excess and any still leaking blood. When Ghost still hadn’t laid back, you grabbed hold of his shoulder and tried to ease him down. He seized your wrist almost on instinct.

You looked at his eyes through that mask he always wore. Cam cream hid the area around them, but despite a valiant effort to hide it, you could see the panic behind his eyes. He had just gotten back from a mission. You weren’t privy to the details, but according to a friend with higher security clearance, things had gone badly in the interim of coming and going.

“Hey,” you said gently, “you’re home. You’re safe here, okay? Let me help. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some soldiers scoffed at your—albeit—cheesy reassurances when they were still running on adrenaline or in shock, but you’d be damned if saying exactly what they needed to hear didn’t help. Ghost simply took your words for everything they were worth and let you guide him onto his back. You squeezed him arm in assurance and got to work.

Sanitize, stitch, tie it off. You were done in a matter of minutes, left only to cover the wound with gauze and a bit of medical tape. There were a few others back from the mission who needed treatment as well. Your nurse had been called back from her own lunch to help you; she was tending to someone else.

“Good as new,” you said, patting Ghost on the chest as you stood. “Stay as long as you need. Let me know if you need painkillers.”

“Doc,” he called.

You stopped with a hand on the curtain you were about to draw around him.

“Thanks.”

You smiled at him. “Anytime, Lt.”

You drew the curtain, letting Ghost rest on one of the infirmary beds as you called the next wounded soldier over.

[niuniente]

I have multiple favorite characters. They're all equally beloved. I don't get to choose which one of them is on the spotlight - they come and go on their own.

Because of this, I have assigned a personal meaning to each character: this character means have more fun; this character means that keep your eyes on the price; this character means a time of transition; this character asks to rest more. Always works!

A month ago, Dragunov from Tekken appeared on the spotlight (this didn't happen with Tekken 7 so we can't blame the new Tekken being out).

Now, the first time he was on a spotlight was 15 years ago. I was in a horrible place back then. There was a legal mess which, if the shit hit the fan, would ruin the rest of my life. Literally. I wouldn't be able to get a rental apartment, make any new contracts like electricity, phone, internet, buy anything with monthly payments, get subscription services, I would lose part of my income. I was THIS CLOSE to lose it all and the worst thing was that there was nothing I could. I hadn't caused the mess but I had no way out of it either. I even went to a lawyer to ask for a legal help but he couldn't help.

I feared for my life and future, hoping it would turn out OK. What kept me sane was playing Tekken 6. I played it hours every day and always as Dragunov. I even did my art school final thesis of fan culture and Dragunov (I had much fun with a Russian fan who drew really pretty pics of Dragunov and gave me an access to her screencapture collection of Tekken 6 for my thesis)

Then, one day I figured what was Dragunov's assigned meaning; you will survive. No matter what the odds, even if it was the 3rd world war, you will survive and come out alive without any harm.

That's exactly what happened. Took 2 more years but I got out alive, unharmed. It was horrible time. I'm glad it's over.

So, when Dragunov NOW suddenly appeared on the spotlight after 15 years, my initial thought was "WHAT WHAT, WHAT'S THE BAD NEWS??? WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE ODDS ARE HORRIBLE BUT I'LL SURVIVE????! "

Two weeks later, in a span of a week, without any prior warnings:

I got laid off because the company bankruptcy and fell on a social welfare

this happened while the current right-wing government made big cuts to social welfare and housing benefits (so I don't know if I can keep my current home)

while at the same time prices keep getting higher due to inflation

The IUD for anemia treatment came out on its own

Because of that I'm without any help to my iron anemia and the only solution will be hysterectomy in my case; doctors aren't giving those easily (even when needed)

I lost my workplace healthcare which would have been the easiest and the best way to get to hysterectomy

the sudden removal of IUD is causing me horrible withdrawal symptoms

my Japanese friend told me that she's unable to come to Finland this year and has to postpone her trip till 2025 :(((

(which also means I won't get my favorite cigarettes I smoke for fancy treats a few times a year because I can only get it from Japan - ordering tobacco online is illegal here)

noticed that wasps had made a nest to my balcony (that's being taken care off)

couldn't attend a free(!) ice-cream tasting for a feedback and for a free 15€ gift card because of the IUD withdrawal symptoms

found out that trains aren't operating normally and my home station is under construction and causes some issues

So yeah. He wasn't lying. It's been so bad that the first thing this morning when waking up was to take stomach medicine and have a smoke. And I'm not a smoker.

Horrible times are up ahead but I trust that I'll survive out of this phase just like I did 15 year ago.

(:::з」∠)

[alwaysbegrowing]

Wombo Combo

“Boom,” May said into her mic, “get fucked, bitch!”

If I had to sum up May in just two words I would choose “talented” and “toxic” which don’t sound great as far as introductions go. For as long as we’ve been dating she’s been nothing but kind and caring in every possible situation except for one. That one situation is whenever she boots up her favorite fighting game, Innocent Cog, which completely changes her demeanor. It didn’t get really bad until she started streaming it because her audience seriously eggs her on. I could think of a couple reasons why, though.

May’s favorite character to play was a little girl with a nautical theme named ‘Totsugeki’. That round, she’d been up against a grappler character named ‘Zepp’. I watched her latest victim’s lifebar empty, and waited for the real show to start. Ordinarily, May was a short brunette with slight curves. That day she was wearing a tank top that read ‘Get Smoked’ and a pair of leggings. Her clothing was pretty loose-fitting before she won the match.

When May started rising up in her seat she looked directly into her webcam. She moaned with each little bit her body grew, up and up, until her tank top and leggings drew tight on her. She enjoyed getting bigger as much as I liked watching her grow. She topped out at around five foot ten, which told me she was purposely holding back.

When her breasts, initially not even a B-cup, began inflating against the fabric of her top I figured out why. May cooed as she pushed her hands over her chest, relishing in the feeling of her growing tits pushing her hands further away. Her boobs went from barely filling a half of her palm to meeting, and then overflowing it.

May’s breasts bubbled against the edge of the shirt’s neckline. Her plunging cleavage assaulted the fabric until inches of her enormous orbs were on display. The honeydew melon-sized tits on her chest would have fit a large E-cup bra on her otherwise thin frame. May seemed like she was still growing up, but this wasn’t due to more mass being packed into her legs. In rapid surges, her buttocks grew larger and rounder until she was packing quite the bubble butt into her leggings.

Suddenly, as if by magic, a tiny person was wedged between May’s inflated cheeks and her leggings. I could just barely see the outline of someone wriggling against the fabric. She giggled and casually spoke into her mic as she waited for the next match. I was watching her both in person and on stream; I loved watching the chat feed explode when new viewers saw her grow live on camera.

“Finally, okay gang, a new challenger approaches,” May giggled, “aaaand it’s Doctor Scalpel? Biiig mistake, chief. Time to get your shit pushed in!”

Once a week, every week, this was the show that May would put on ever since she started streaming a few months ago. She would go until she lost a match or couldn’t play anymore. Today was shaping up to be headed toward the latter given that her latest match lasted about forty-five seconds before her opponent went down. Literally. This time, when May started growing larger and more buxom, it was within her top’s straining fabric her latest victim began squirming.

“Oof, got an active one this time, chat.” May playfully patted her inflating breasts. I could see her widening hips start pushing into her chair’s armrests. She was reaching six-foot-three while sitting in a chair setup for somebody much smaller. Purposeful, of course, since the small chair only served to make her bigger. May’s burgeoning G-cups were so large they were starting to rest on the desk in front of her.

The next match came and went; this time, her opponent failed to land a single hit in the first round and tried to rage-quit. I couldn’t help but chuckle, though I was drowned out by May’s much more uproarious laughter.

“Holy shit! Did you see that, chat?! Oh, they’re going straight to titty jail,” May chortled. She only grew a few inches this time. Much like the rest of her audience, I, too, didn’t want the show to end just when it was getting good. Still, May’s boobs were encroaching on her keyboard, and each one now had a squirming figure trapped beneath it. Then, another, and another, for a total of four shrunken people stuck and wriggling beneath her double H-cup melons.

“Mmmf, fuckin’ scrubs can’t even compete with my tits!” May sensuously moaned. Her shoulders were a few inches out of her chair, and her hips and thick ass were trapped against the armrests, truly. Her top stretched so far across her enormous bust that it barely served as a bra. She was a vision of curves that jiggled deliciously with her vigorous laughter. I saw her make direct and purposefully eye-contact with her webcam. I felt like she was staring right through me.

“Alright, chat, I’m gonna take a break. We’ll be back on later today, though, and we’ll be playing ranked. Get hyped!” May said as she signed off. I barely had time to put my laptop aside before May was on top of me. I could feel she was on the edge of bursting out of her clothes. She pressed her body into mine, squishing her victims between the two of us.

I didn’t realize just how far even watching May had pushed me. Her soft and jiggly body grinding against mine, much heavier thanks to how much bigger she was, was heavenly. I nearly came immediately and right as I managed to keep myself contained, I heard May giggle once again.

“We just started, baby,” May cooed, “don’t make me put you in jail, too.”

[undertale-outcode-imagines]

I'm back! Who am I? You don't know. My question is how would all of the boys react to his S/o getting a broken bone? Arm or leg, most likely leg.

:)

That is. Odd. But alright, hello kind stranger, thanks for the ask! No specific boios were mentioned, (and all of my characters would take a fucking year-) so I just went with the bad sanses because I'm feeling fluffily evil tonight

Also a few extras cause this is a fun prompt (more than a few extras actually, jesus fuck what did I just do)

Killer: When you first break your leg they're more than a tad shaken, but once you're on the mend, he's back to his gremlin self, and he will annoy the living shit out of you. And coerce you into playing crappy video games with them. Also, if you don't let them sign your cast they will cry. That would be so mean, why would you do that to the baby boi :'((((

Cross: He is a dumb little boy /pos who doesn't know how to help, but he makes a very nice cushion to sit on, and he has the best taste in anime to waste your time with. He also drew a little heart on your cast while you were asleep, and he denies it was him but here's a secret: it was him.

Nightmare: He is constantly resisting the urge to pick you up and carry you everywhere, but he respects your ability to handle yourself, so he will just lurk... And pick you up every time you even look like you're falling. At least he keeps track of your doctor's appointments for you?

Error: Aside from his strings being great at helping you keep your balance, it's also making little gifts to keep you comfortable. Most notable are blankets and pillows, but it will make literally anything under the sun for you.

Horror: Much like Cross, he doesn't know how to help. He really freaked out when he learned you were hurt, and you are not leaving his sight for a while. That's fine though, because you are spoiled with whatever you desire, especially food. It's important to a healthy recovery, don't you know?

Dust: He does not like seeing you hurt. He'd probably even avoid you for a bit- he feels guilty for not protecting you, and for not knowing how to help. After a bit he'll drift back to you, and although he's not much of a help otherwise, he's a nice cuddle buddy.

Ink: Fuck signing casts, he's painting entire masterpieces on your cast. They're really nice about helping you, although he sometimes. Forgets you have a broken leg, and tries to drag you out adventuring like normal. Ah well, Dream's around to remind him if you can't.

Dream: He's really regretting not learning healing magic. They want to help, damnit! He's upset he can't do more than entertain you and practically wait you on hand and foot, but he really puts his whole soul into keeping you happy. They sign your cast with a little sun and apple, and blush when you say it's cute.

Ivy: They do not like this one bit. It brings back memories they don't want to remember, and they hate seeing you hurt at all. They want to help, but it's too much emotional stress, so beyond cuddles, it's all on Nightmare and the rest of your friends to help you. That's okay though, because seeing your little partner doing well is rewarding.

Ash: Despite their skill with healing magic, it takes a pretty long while for you to be back at full health. They're there for you the whole time though, and they are a very warm cuddle buddy.

Red: He had a panic attack when he first heard you were hurt. He will worry his ass off caring for you, and probably comes off as really overprotective. He's still very sweet though, even if you're forbidden from leaving his couch for a month.

Crimson: He's threatening to murder whatever did this to you, even if it was something inanimate like a curb. And also probably blackmailing the best doctor around into trying to heal you. It's. ....Nice...????

[dalesramblingsblog]

Oh yeah, I'm a couple days late with this announcement, but thank you all so much for 4,000 lifetime views on the blog. The growth that Dale's Ramblings has experienced in 2023 is nothing short of insane to me. I only hit 3,000 views back in April!

Literally, I don't think I've stressed this point enough, but the site has been viewed almost as many times in this year alone as it was in 2021 and 2022 *combined*. That is a frankly incomprehensible statistic. I know I've had a bit of a readership spike since making the transition to Tumblr, so... credit where credit is due, honestly. I remain more than a little intimidated by this all, but that intimidation is overpowered by a deep and abiding gratitude.

Even outside of the simple numbers, the sixth year of Dale's Ramblings easily numbers among my favourites. This is by far the first extended period where I can honestly say that I have been happy with a decent majority of my work, and considering I reviewed about thirty-three novels and a short story collection in the past twelve months, that's no small feat.

I also drew down the curtain on a long-running chapter of my exploration of Doctor Who's novels by wrapping up the main body of the VARs, which was quite a bittersweet experience, but thankfully mostly sweet. I don't know that I'll be sufficiently rested by the time of the blog's proper anniversary in a few weeks' time to put out a de facto anniversary post like The Man in the Velvet Mask last year, but I hope you'll join me in the blog's seventh year when I return with Oh No It Isn't!

Thank you all so much, from the bottom of my heart.

[shslpunkartist99]

Hiiiiii

What a... fuckin' year

It's a doozy, so.. y'know the drill

So I've been more quiet as the year slowly drew to a close. The holidays have become a stressful time for me now. It used to only be because of work (work is always hectic for the holidays), but after moving out a couple of states away from my og home, it got more stressful trying to visit family. My manager didn't help with it either, literally delaying in approving my time off, so I had to go broke buying expensive plane tickets. Had to work a shit ton, both to make as much money as I could AND because it was the standard (we're an entertainment place for all ages, so yeah. Hella busy).

The holidays themselves were.. not the best. You guys know I don't talk much, and the few friends I have know that I'm not a social person (I feel constantly guilty about that). I would be perfectly content sitting at the edge of the table with friends while they chatted away. Hell, I'd be content not talking to anyone for over a month.

This ends up including my family, unfortunately. I know family is important and I need to keep in touch with them, but it's difficult. Both of our lives are extremely boring and mundane: we work, we rest at home, we eat, that's all. None of us go out to travel. None of us do any exciting activities. It's the same day everyday.

I bring this up because my silence has gotten people close to me to believe that I don't care about them. I don't keep in touch, therefore I don't care. I "only think about myself", so I'm selfish. I "don't think about other people", so I'm a careless person.

So that, uh... fucked me up.

We made the most of it, them claiming they don't want the holiday ruined (even though I was already defeated day 1 out of 4), so it ended.. ok? But it still sucked. Especially since I ended up getting sick. Medicine only made it worse because haha, why would it WANT to help? (Had me puking after taking it. Hadn't puked in years). I'm still sick now (haven't had time to properly recover because I had to work to make up for lost time, and my job wouldn't have me go back to work until I got a doctor's note, and that's just added stress I didn't want to deal with), but at least I have today and tomorrow to rest up.

Now that the holidays are done and over with, things should go back to how they SHOULD be: answering you guys' asks more often, putting up more frequent content and ideas, actually keeping in touch with friends.. the good stuff. Work should slow down to a much easier pace after this week (starting this week tbh, the next "big" event isn't until the end of this month), so I should be able to manage my time and energy properly.

I'm not gonna make any big deal about resolutions or anything like that, but I do want to try and get a writing piece done every week or something. Whether based on an existing idea or something random. I want to get the flow going again. Art shouldn't be an issue. Streaming will still be random.

The main thing is also to socialize again. Kim, Shades, I missed you guys. Kinda left ya on read, and I know you guys are super understanding and stuff, but it feels very unfair that you guys do a lot for me, and I don't do anything back. I'm gonna regain focus and energy to properly return the favor. I'm gonna try to keep the same energy with my family too. As shitty as that visit went, they're all I got, and they're all going through issues as well. So if me messaging them a "Hey, how are you?" sparks some joy in them, then I'll do that. At least for my bro, who I feel has been going through the most. He deserves better.

I still got some recovery to do. Not just with the sick or the mental, but also taking care of my home and better habits. Haven't been cleaning or cooking lately because of depression, and it's starting to show. I need to fix that up. But I'm just relieved the year is over, and I don't have to worry as much about work or spending lots of money or traveling or any other shit going on. I can finally (hopefully) relax..

If it's seen as selfish to take care of myself.. tbh? I'm defeated. I don't care anymore. I'm barely holding myself together with cheap tape. But with things easing up, it should be better. Should be easier.

I might still be a lil quiet here still until at least the sick is gone, but I might do lil stuff here and there. Probably have the Punks take over a lil for fun. I've been thinking about them a lot, as well as the comfort characters Keith, Leroy, and Naomi (I've actually been having multiple dreams with her, which made me really happy. I'll talk about them one day. She's so cool).

You guys have made for a great year tbh. Helping me develop ideas and being interested in my silly gay characters and aus. Idk how many of you are here (or still here), but I wouldn't have a happy corner without you guys. Thank you so much. I hope you guys had a great holiday, had a good enough year, and will continue to have fun times for the current future.

♤♡◇♧Bloop♧◇♡♤

[anneimaginesundertale]

SO mistreated by customer with Blue? Kinda reminds me of work at the moment ^^;

Blue had the day off, so he stopped by your work to bring you lunch (and to see you for a bit). When he walked in, he spotted you at the counter. He waved, but your attention was currently occupied by someone else. That was fine. He could wait. He stood just inside the doors and watched as you spoke with the woman at the counter.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just give me the discount!” The woman slammed her hand down on the counter, making you jump.

“Ma’am,” you started, but the lady cut you off.

“No! I don’t want any of your excuses! I don’t care!” The lady drew herself up to her full height and seemed to puff up. “Do you know who I am, you fat ugly lazy cow?”

Oh no. Nope. This was not going to continue. Not with Blue here. Before tears could even start to well up in your eyes at the insult, your husband stepped in.

“I know you,” he said. “You’re Tabby’s mom.”

The woman turned in surprise, deflating suddenly at the intrusion of a new person into the conversation. “What are you doing here?” she sneered. “Don’t you have finger paintings to grade?”

Blue kept a flat smile on his face. “Nope,” he said. “I’ve got all the paintings graded. Tabby got a B-, but I think she can improve her technique. That’s why I came here to see my pregnant wife, because I’m ready for a break and it’s just about time for her to take one too.”

Tabby’s mom inflated again. “That’s your wife?”

“Yes. Isn’t she beautiful? She’s going to have our first child in just a few months. Everybody says she’s glowing.” He allowed a little bit of a twinkle to come into his eyelights at that, more at the thought of how you’d literally glowed a little while back. “I’d really like to give her the lunch I made for her, so if you could finish up your transaction with her, I’d appreciate it. Did she ring you up yet?”

This speech threw Tabby’s mom for a moment, but only for a moment. She quickly got back on her track and puffed right back up. Now she had someone else to complain to. “She won’t give me a discount when I have a coupon!” she snarled.

Blue looked at you. “Uh oh. What’s wrong, Ray? Why can’t you give her the discount?”

You waited a moment for Tabby’s mom to interrupt you, but when she didn’t, you said, “I tried to tell her that her coupon is expired. It was for last month. I offered her one of our new ones, which would give her almost the same deal, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Because it shouldn’t MATTER!” Now she was on again. “I’ve been coming here for YEARS! I’ve spent soooo much money here! You can’t deny me stuff like this! I’m a valued customer!” She slapped her hand on the counter again. “I pay your wages!”

Blue sighed loudly. “Oh dear,” he said. “This is a problem. Ray, honey, why don’t you get the manager to come and take care of this, and you and I can go out to lunch?”

You took the offer like the lifeline it was. “Yes,” you said. “I’ll get the manager. Hang on just one minute.” You picked up the phone and called the manager in the office. By the time he reached the counter, Blue had already walked behind it and helped you down from your stool.

“I’m going to take Ray out to lunch,” he said to your boss. “She’ll call you if she’s feeling up to coming back. The doctor said she’s not supposed to be stressed out, so it might be better for her to go home and rest a bit.”

Your boss nodded. “Go ahead and take the afternoon,” he said. “I can handle things here.”

“Thanks,” you said, and you allowed Blue to lead you out of the store. As the doors closed behind you, you could hear Tabby’s mom going off on your boss. You climbed into the car and sighed with relief. “I thought she’d never stop,” you muttered.

Blue got into the driver’s seat and reached over to give your hand a little squeeze. “I’m glad I could come and rescue you,” he said.

You squeezed back. “My hero.”

“I love you, and that’s what husbands do.” Blue gave your hand one more squeeze and then turned on the car. “And don’t worry. I’ll have more words with Tabby’s mom at the next PTA meeting. She’s not going to know what hit her.”

[mosasadogs]

one time i got committed during an appointment with a psychologist. it was for worsening depression symptoms noticed during the appointment by him, which is to say, he heard me say “the medication you prescribed me has not made me feel any better and i feel worse than i did months ago when you started me on it.” he immediately said he was going to commit me as a cautionary measure due to his anxieties about depression/ptsd patients having their conditions suddenly worsen (which happens) and commit suicide (which happens.) despite this being the reason they immediately drug tested me (after making me wait five hours in a waiting room) though i was committed for completely unrelated reasons, and got interrogated about how much money i spend on marijuana in a month by the nurses. i fainted during this because they drew blood. they just kept drawing it. after this i got strip searched by a male orderly much older than me. he confronted me about my marijuana use and told me that if i didn’t spend so much money on it i could afford more than one pair of shoes (i had only one pair of shoes and they wouldn’t let me take them inside the facility because they didn’t want me to hang myself with my shoelaces). i was stuck in there for five days because i got committed on a friday and was technically “not being kept under observation by a doctor” during the weekend or friday because doctors are allowed to have weekends at that place. the men’s ward at a publicly funded but private “behavioral health center” was mostly made up of 40 year old men who were either in addiction recovery programs or headed there shortly, people sentenced to addiction recovery programs by courts but in a mandatory drying out period. the rest were homeless men. i must have heard the word faggot ten or fifteen times a day. one of the nurses would not stop complaining about her daughter being gay and wearing men’s clothing until i told her i was gay. she literally replied “oh, i wouldn’t have guessed. but you wear men’s clothes, it’s not as bad. you look like a normal man.” anyway any time one of you makes a post about how helpful therapy has been for you, how much cbt can change your life for the better, how critics of therapy are “just like scientologists” or saying someone “needs professional help” i think about cutting out parts of your insides and eating them while you’re still breathing and i’d start with the ones you don’t “need”

[777marauders]

Stranger Things Vol 2:

Things about volume 2 (some volume 1) that I want to say and no friends to say it to:

I APOLOGISE IF THIS IS A MESS TO READ, IM JUST SO OVERWHELMED BY THE BAD WRITING AND PACING. If I’m missing anything, please add it by replying.

Anyway, I’m off to read fix-it-fics ✌️

Eddie:

EDDIE, EDDIE, EDDIE.

I LOVE YOU.

WHY DO I ALWAYS SIMP FOR CHARACTERS THAT DIE ON SCREEN!

Dedicating Metallica to Chrissy was EVERYTHING. Had me shipping them with five minutes of screen time.

In my opinion though, he was one of the characters who was done so dirty.

He literally died for a town that hated him and it resulted in nothing.

He died to give more time to Steve, Nancy and Robin. Okay, that’s brave of him, I’m PROUD of him. HOWEVER. He stayed behind because he didn’t want to run. Then he ran and stopped because he didn’t want to run. Very confusion. Then the demobats circled him for what felt like years and weren’t attacking. The pacing of the show was so bad that the tension goes with it. Then Steve, Nancy and Robin were pinned to the wall and were being choked out by the hive mind for however long… it should have killed them. I just don’t think they needed the time.

The news reporters continue to use Eddie as the reason for all this happening. So it really feels like Eddie died for nothing. If they actually cared, I would want them to expose the lab and the real reason so Eddie didn’t die for nothing.

Like ALL that black and red smoke?! The CONSEQUENCES of the lab?! Hawkins deserves the truth after everything.

Max:

I WAS SINGING FOR YOU GIRLY!

Her scenes were probably one of the few saving grace’s of volume 2 as well.

Sadie’s acting is incredible.

I didn’t think they’d kill off any of the kids, but as much as I hate to say it… I think Max dying would make sense.

Again, I love her. Jason is a prick, rest in pieces.

But I think Max dying would make sense purely because WHERE DID ELEVEN FIND THE POWER TO RESURRECT PEOPLE?!?

Max may be alive now, but what if she feels more like a ghost again next season. She couldn’t feel anything (luckily the doctor’s can fix broken bones) but they can’t fix her sight. And I’m worried she’ll feel ten times worse next season.

Also Duffers… where was her mother? Like her daughter is missing for days, is in hospital due to broken bones, lack of eyesight and clinically dead for a few minutes. They couldn’t put her sitting in the corner of the room?!?

She’s been through so much but the Duffer Brothers are literally dragging her through so much more shit that what she needs.

Eleven:

I’m aware that the California Crew didn’t have the means to get to Hawkins BUT they felt really useless… all but El.

I loved the plot she was given… not so thrilled about her new power to resurrect the dead though.

I’m happy she’s free from Brenner and that she’s reunited with Hopper.

Millie ATE her scenes.

One of the few things about this season, where the pacing was executed properly and didn’t feel out of place.

Will:

THE QUEERBAITING AFTER PRIDE MONTH?!?

So what if it’s the 80s? It’s a fictional town with fictional and supernatural occurrences. Robin came out easy peasy (still hate how it felt like a plot twist).

Every time Will cried, I cried. Poor boy needs a hug and so do I. I don’t know how to recover from this.

Other Characters:

It’s late and I’m exhausted from what volume 2 did to me… so let’s wrap this up.

Argyle was a much needed addition. Served more purpose to me than Jonathan, Mike and Will. I love them but no. It just wasn’t their season to shine.

Mike… thanks for saying you love El I guess.

Jonathan is the best sibling on the show by miles. Minor problem with the ending and how he and Nancy started off super weird and at the end they brushed it aside really quickly.

Will, honey, we both need hugs.

Dustin… let me just say Gaten’s acting is unbelievable. He cried, I cried with him. Again the show drew away the tension so while I was trying to be sad for Eddie it was hard because of the pacing. But Gaten’s acting really got the emotions going. And that scene with Wayne… amazing. I cried twice during this show and his talk with Wayne was one of them.

Lucas, I stand by him always. Every decision his character made, I 100% agreed with from start to finish. My Lumax heart broke when Max died and he couldn’t save her. He never left her side and that was beautiful. They are probably the best ship on the show.

Steve had me thinking he was going to die with the way he spoke about the future this season. So happy he is alive and that they referenced Mama Steve. Not so happy about the Nancy plot. He also felt underplayed from the start :/

Nancy is also one of the few characters done right this season. She came in clutch with the plans and wasted no time. Minor problem with the ending and how she and Jonathan started off super weird and at the end they brushed it aside really quickly.

Robin, Robin, Robin. The apple of my eye. At first I was skeptical that her character went from cool and breezy to socially anxious but it worked really well. Kinda hoping the klutz aspect would play in more but it’s okay.

Erica as always is amazing. Slightly concerned that they let a kid who didn’t fully need to be involved, be as involved as she was. Anyway Erica kicking ass is iconic.

MURRAY IM SO HAPPY HE IS ALIVE THATS ALL I CARE ABOUT. There’s not enough appreciation for Murray but omg he was givinggggg. I love him.

Joyce is never wrong. Ever. Never doubt that woman. Joyce and Murray’s team up was brilliant (can you tell I’m running out of new adjectives for everyone). Her reunion with Hopper was chef’s kiss. Also the matching clothes were cute.

( I won’t lie, when I rewatched volume 1, I skipped a lot of the Russia scenes because again the writing.)

Hopper being a low-key corrupt cop with the police brutality last season and then later bribing Antonov to get out of the prison had me laughing. Ofc he would. He was so smart with everything play he made though. His reunion with Joyce and El, were one of the very much needed things to save this season for me. But again THE MATCHING CLOTHES WERE SO CUTE (I know they didn’t have anything else but still.)

Antonov, I kinda thought he would be one of the five to die… only because he had his character arc and that there’s nothing really there for him in America… he’s hot though.

Brenner… man you fucked up big time.

VECNA is actually so interesting. My jaw dropped hearing the reveal that it was in fact Henry who was 1 who was Vecna. The only issue with volume 2 vecna I’d say issssss when Mike was giving his love speech to El, Vecna could literally have killed Max three times over (not that it’s vecna’s fault more like the script’s.)

The bio parents on this show always disappoint me. Not you Joyce. And why did Karen have a poster please?! The theories on the show were a lot better. I don’t even want to talk about Jason or his friends. They just made every situation worse.

Justice for everyone honestly.

[tonyhightower]

PARIS, FRIDAY: Somebody Please Remove These Cutleries From My Knees

Alright, after this I'll write something other than my personal kvetches, but today is not that day. (If you want to skip my personal health story, go to Part 2.)

PART 1 (CW: My Innards)

Things are possibly looking up.

Yesterday, I managed to get an appointment with a knee specialist who spoke English. Unlike the last guy, I was able to talk with him -- English was clearly not his first language, but his English was definitely better than my French, so we were good, and he was a guy in his 40s who played squash, and he said had the same problem I did at one point.

It's not a ligament problem after all; he thinks it might be the meniscus, folded over on itself inside my kneecap. That's apparently a thing. It certainly would explain the pain.

[The meniscus is a small film of tendon-like material in the knee that sits between the femur (the thigh bone) and the tibia & the fibula (the two shin bones). It's a pretty common issue, and it has nothing to do with running or anything.]

The good news is that it's a quick arthroscopic procedure (pro athletes get it all the time, and they're often ready to play again pretty quickly), and then about three weeks' recovery. I'm probably out for the Paris Half Marathon, but if recovery goes well, and I can train good, I still want to at least give the Paris (Full) Marathon in April a go. It won't be a PR attempt in any way, but dammit, I want to at least do the course.

So, he drew this up (the whole appointment took about 15 minutes), and I was able to get an X-ray appointment that afternoon, and I have an MRI this morning, all set up by myself, online. They literally said "Go find someone close to your apartment. Anyone will do."

The cost so far? (The American in me is fascinated by this. It’s okay, this chapter will be over soon.)

The all-but-useless GP consultation from last week: €25

The initial consultation: €120

The X-Ray: €0

The MRI: €600 (which, um, JEEZUS, but still, (a) that's still a tiny fraction of what it costs in the USA, (b) it's 100% covered & refundable, and (c) once I get a Carte Vitale, I never see these bills in the first place.

It is a torn meniscus. It's fixable. And decades of sticker shock isn't going to go away easily, but I'm starting to be optimistic.

I've shown no ID at any of these places (One place asked to see my passport, but that was only to make sure they spelled my name right on the form.) These charges are all fully reimbursable on our temporary health plan (~$100/month). Once we get our full Carte Vitale into the French Health Care system proper, we won't even see these charges at all.

OK, enough about my health problems. Kvetching about that crap is something old people do, and I'm intimately aware of that. I just always thought, as an American, that it was interesting how little literally everyone else in the world pays for their health care, and now that I have a chance to take advantage of that, I have to at least mention it.

* * * * *

PART 2 (CW: American Health Care System Rant)

I've spent my entire adult life not going to the doctor. Toughing it out. Walking it off. Riding it out. Dealing with pain.

Oh, you have a kidney problem? Have some soup. You broke a bone? Splint it up & lay off it for a few weeks. Slice your hand open with a dull knife? RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. Put a bread bag over it when you shower. Hope you didn't cut a ligament, or else congrats, those fingers don't move right no more!

Every (non-rich) American I know, even people with actual health insurance, has these stories. You know at the time how horrifying it is, but you also know that there's no other way to get through it. It's either work it out on your own, or you go into indentured servitude to some hospital's collections department for the rest of your life, simply because you couldn't scotch-tape a popsicle stick (or a pencil, or whatever item's at hand at the moment it happens) to your finger when you accidentally jammed it in a door somewhere.

It's fucking barbaric, and the mass delusion that it's just how things work in America is infuriating.

If I stayed in NYC with this knee thing, I'd have never gotten a diagnosis, certainly never gotten treatment, and I'd probably spend the rest of my life hobbling around, in pain. Certainly, as it turns out, I'd have never run again.

God, just typing that out makes me angry.

If you're going through something like this, I'm so, so sorry. The stories of people buying a plane ticket, dragging their broken bodies to some European country, getting themselves fixed, and then flying home, aren't silly ones. Not only do you actually get what's wrong with you fixed, and for a fraction of what an American hospital would charge you, you get a trip somewhere nice, or at least different.

If you're dealing with a thing, especially something you know is probably fixable, and you have that as an option, I'd honestly recommend it. If not Europe or Asia, then even Canada. You only get one body to go through this life. Do whatever you gotta do to fix it.

The American health care system should not be holding your own body hostage against you.

[justmeandmysickies]

@angstyaches this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I hope you still like it!

Bonding

characters: Nick and Joe

warnings: emeto

„Please come over, I’m sick.“ That was all Nick had said, before the line clicked, indicating that the call had ended.

Now usually Joe would have called him right back to give him a piece of his mind – he wasn’t Nick’s mother after all – but it was different this time.

Nick was always whiny when sick. His usually so stoic and smug self would be replaced by the attitude of a needy 7-year-old as soon as he had the sniffles. And that was never a reason to worry. He’d be back to behaving like himself after a few days of resting, so Joe usually wouldn’t bother going over there to take care of him. Since Nick would be either sleeping or harassing him 24/7 it was simply not worth it.

But something about Nick’s call had Joe in his car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong. Nick hadn’t sounded whiny. He had sounded like he was in pain. Genuine pain. And Joe didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

He arrived at Nick’s building several minutes later, grocery bag filled with sick-day-supplies in hand.

Joe briefly wondered if his boyfriend had been smart enough to leave the apartment unlocked for him but fortunately the door swung open with ease.

Upon entering the small but cozy living room, he was immediately greeted by Fork, the red cat Nick had adopted just a few months prior to the beginning of their relationship. Joe had never understood that decision – he wasn’t particularly fond of the general concept of having pets, especially not the ones that could kill you in your sleep if they wanted to.

Nick however seemed to love his miniature tiger, so Joe had to live with that. Still, he couldn’t help the face of disgust as Fork rubbed up against his leg, leaving behind a trail of red hair on his black jeans.

Despite his obvious dislike for the cat, Joe stepped into the kitchen to check if his ill-stricken boyfriend had remembered to feed his pet. The food-bowl seemed reasonably full, so he started putting away the few groceries he had bought, ignoring Fork who was looking up at him expectantly as he opened up the cabinet that contained the cat treats.

Satisfied with himself, he closed the cabinets and grabbed some Gatorade for Nick to drink. Now came the hard stuff.

Joe had no idea how to care for other people. His entire life he had been taking care of himself but when it came to others he was at a loss. Maybe it was his lack of empathy. Or maybe it was his fear of things that aren’t in his control. Or he was simply scared that people would see that he actually cared. Whatever the reason, he usually avoided having to take care of someone at all costs. But this was his boyfriend, and he needed his help, so Joe had to suck it up.

And that’s why he braced himself with a deep breath and took off down the hallway to Nick’s bedroom, Fork right on his heels.

Joe opened the door in one swift motion, letting the two of them into the room. It was dark; Nick had pulled all the curtains closed. The sick man himself was only a lump buried in pillows and blankets.

Joe stood still for a few seconds, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was asleep, momentarily forgetting about the cat that had followed him into the room. And before he could stop him, Fork had already jumped up the bed, immediately cuddling close to his owner’s face.

Nick groaned and Joe could have slapped himself. He had probably been asleep before Fork decided to get in his face. “Fork, how the hell did you open the door?” The blonde asked, voice heavy with sleep as he gave his cat a little shove.

“He didn’t.” Joe answered as he stepped closer to the bed.

Nick looked up in confusion. He obviously hadn’t noticed Joe standing there. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

Joe frowned. That was alarming to say the least. “You called me.” He put a careful hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, fearing the worst. Nick just hummed, leaning into Joe’s cool palm, who clicked his tongue in concern. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temperature?” He drew his hand back and Nick whined at the loss of contact.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He mumbled quietly, burying himself deeper in his pillow.

“What do you mean you didn’t feel like taking your temperature? Have you at least taken some medicine?” Joe couldn’t decide if he was very irritated or very concerned.

“No, didn’t feel like doing that either.”

Irritated. He was definitely very irritated. And it took him every ounce of willpower to not yell at the sick man in front of him.

Joe took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’ll get you some medication in a second. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything.” Came the reply from deep within the covers. It was clear Nick didn’t feel like talking but in order to help him, Joe had to know what was going on.

“Babe.” Joe sighed impatiently, waiting for a useful answer.

Nick groaned but stuck his head out from under the covers anyway. He was quiet for a moment, before he answered. “Everything. I’m not kidding. But mainly my ear. It hurts so bad, when I first woke up this morning I actually cried for a while.”

He laughed nervously after the last part, trying to play it off as a joke but Joe knew it was true. Nick was honest when he wasn’t feeling well.

His concern only grew when Nick winced visibly, closed his eyes, and started taking deep breaths.

Joe thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Are you dizzy?” Nick hummed affirmatively. “Feel sick?” Another hum. “Does it feel like there is pressure in your ear or your head in general?” Nick stilled for a second, seemingly thinking about his answer before nodding.

“You have an ear infection.” Joe stated matter-of-factly. Unfortunately, he was all too familiar with the concept. He used to get ear infections all the time as a kid and even as an adult he still dealt with them every other year. The pain could be excruciating, at times having you unable to move. No wonder Nick was feeling so awful.

The latter only groaned, too exhausted to form words or even sentences.

“Alright, here is the deal.” In a way Joe was glad it was an ear infection – that was at least something he would be able to deal with. “I’ll get you some fever reducers and something to drink. You’ll take a bath and then you’ll go back to resting. If this isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll take you to a doctor.”

“Why do I need to take a bath?” Nick whined, once again burying his face under his blanket.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s childish behavior, Joe pulled the blanket lower to expose Nick’s face. “Because you stink. And it might make you feel better.”

Nick wanted to argue but Joe had already left the room to grab some medicine so there really was no point. He returned seconds later with some pills.

The next step was the bath. Nick reached his arms out and Joe pulled him upwards with seemingly no effort. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea. A wave of dizziness hit Nick like a truck as soon as he was upright. If it hadn’t been for Joe, he would have crumpled to the floor right then and there.

Joe held his partner close, encouraging him to take some deep breaths when suddenly Nick’s entire body convulsed with a dangerously wet sounding retch. He was trying to decide whether to get a bucket or get his boyfriend to the bathroom, but Nick made that decision for him as he bolted towards the door, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

He was so dizzy he could barely see where he was going – it was like his body was moving on autopilot. It’s a miracle he didn’t run face first into a wall.

He crashed to the floor in front of the toilet, just seconds before last nights meager dinner made a reappearance, along with the medicine he’d just taken.

Joe went after him hesitantly, wanting to help but not knowing how. He ultimately settled on keeping Nick’s hair out of his face. It wasn’t much but it was appreciated.

The entire ordeal seemed to be a one-and-done thing. The blonde was left panting and spitting excess saliva into the toilet for a while, but his stomach seemed to have calmed down for the time being.

“Why the fuck do you puke, when your ear is infected?” Nick asked breathlessly while wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure it’s cause of the pain.” Joe answered, getting up to turn on the water for the bathtub.

At that moment Fork casually strolled into the bathroom and right onto Nick’s lap where he immediately settled down, purring lovingly. The blonde couldn’t help but smile a bit as he scratched his cat behind his ear.

The three of them sat there in silence for a while, Nick being too exhausted to talk and Joe not knowing what to say anyway.

Joe once again helped his boyfriend to his feet, when the bath was ready, although a lot slower this time. He even helped the sick man undress before he turned to leave the bathroom. “Wash up, I’m gonna change your bedsheets.”

“But I’m too tired to bathe by myself.” Nick whined as he struggled to step into the tub.

Joe turned around slowly, not quite believing what his boyfriend had just said. “Are you telling me that you need my help bathing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please?” Nick pouted, which was a rather bizarre image, considering that he was muscular, over 6 feet tall and covered in tattoos.

The younger man sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting in with you. I literally just showered two hours ago.”

“Deal.”

Turns out, it was a good decision not to leave Nick alone. He was sleepy and if it hadn’t been for Joe, he would’ve probably drowned in his own bathtub. Right now Joe was carefully massaging shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp who was about to drift off to sleep. He had been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to stay awake with the heavenly feeling of Joe’s fingers in his hair.

And the latter didn’t mind. Any other day he’d yell at Nick for sleeping in the bathtub but not today. He could use the rest and Joe was there to watch him, make sure he was alright. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt him. So Joe started rinsing out the shampoo as Nick fell asleep.

Fork, who had been forced to get up from his owners lap several minutes ago, now decided to settle into the brunette’s side. He still wasn’t a fan of pets but maybe he could get used to this one, Joe thought, unable to hide the fond smile that had snuck up on him.

[applejuizz]

laughter of youth.

the scout regiment has managed to rescue eren and recover annie’s crystal from their enemies, yet at the cost of many soldiers’ lives. levi learns a valuable lesson of trust. characters: levi ackerman x gn! reader (platonic!), historia reiss, sasha braus, jean kirstein, mikasa ackerman, eren jaeger, connie springer warnings: canon violence (vague descriptions), mentions of blood/wounds word count: 1.764 inspired by attack on titan 2: final battle and the story of “our man”, the customizable in-game character.

Paperwork after paperwork after all the paperwork...

Levi had come to dread the sound of hasty footsteps pacing up to his wooden office door and its prolonged creak as Miss Four Eyes allowed themselves in carrying yet another pile of experiment reports, barely containing their unreasonable excitement. While they fervently sought the tiniest free space to fit the monstrosity held in their arms, their flow of Titan anatomy ramblings never ceased.

Levi, you won’t believe what Eren managed to do today...!

Victor - who the hell is Victor? - stood awake the whole night and was as energetic as ever in the morning! This new breed of Titans is quite interesting!

I keep naming these Titans and I won’t shut up already and I should slap myself before you kick me across the fields, Levi! - he couldn’t possibly describe the joy these words would bring him coming out of Hange’s mouth. Too good to be true, unfortunately.

He shifted into his chair, straightening his back and shaking off the annoyance that had been constantly pulling on his nerves for three days already.

Thankfully, his office was quiet and the hallway was blissfully empty. Hange had taken a day off from experiments to let Eren rest. On that note, Jean and Eren had stopped arguing for once, Sasha had ceased her relentless search of meat and he could finally relish in the silence surrounding him. It wasn’t often that he got to have such quiet moments to himself.

And because they were so rare, only when he got the chance to savor them did he realize how much he actually hated them.

It wasn’t that he disliked being alone - on the contrary, he loved solitude a little too much for his own good. Instead, he found that whenever he allowed his mind to rest, he was assaulted by intrusive thoughts and memories that he’d rather bury deep in the back of his consciousness. Perks of being a soldier.

His eyes took in rows and columns of observations on the papers in front of him. His hand signed each and every one of them away promptly, yet his mind was drifting, conjuring up crimson fields, disgusting Titan flesh sliced in half, the blood-curdling screams of soldiers trampled off their horses or chewed to their demise. Nothing he wasn’t used to. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t make his skin crawl sometimes.

He thought back to commander Erwin, weak and thinning, laying in a hospital bed with only an arm left. Levi knew his superior was a strong man; he didn’t worry much about his recovery. What did plant the seed of doubt in his heart was the fact that somehow, the man he’d thought nearly invincible had been so badly wounded, and that alone was a strong indicator of the deep shit they all were in.

And of course, the one member in his squad that had never returned from the battlefield hung dark and heavy over his consciousness, a shadow of guilt, the same damn story repeating itself over and over again. No matter how much he tried to avoid it, it came crawling back like an awful nightmare, looming over him along with the deaths of all the other people he has trusted and cared for. Isabel and Farlan, Petra, Eld, Günther, Oruo… and now them too.

I won’t die on you, sir!

Like hell you won’t.

Their promise rang in his ears as if trying to mock him. The shadows of his consciousness sneered at him: look what happens when you decide to trust people, you twerp. Should’ve known better. Haven’t you learned your lesson?

“Tsk.” He set the cup he’d mindlessly lifted back on his desk. The tea had gone cold. He’d have to ask someone to brew him another. Not exactly pleasant, but enough to distract him from the dark path his thoughts had gone onto.

Before he could even stand up from his chair, though, loud voices boomed from downstairs through the whole hideout and caused the floor beneath his feet to vibrate. They were followed by clattering of pots and Jaeger’s unmistakable yelling, obnoxious and over dramatic as always.

So much for his quiet moment.

With an exasperated sigh, Levi picked up his cup again and left his desk and the piles of papers behind, shaking off the last of his melancholy. These damn brats can’t get anything done without wrecking havoc first…

The kitchen was right beneath his office, so all he had to do was climb down the short flight of stairs, put the cadets back in their place, ask horseface to brew him some more tea and go back upstairs. Simple enough.

He came to the sight of Eren, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Connie all hunched around in a compact group, chattering loudly and all over each other. Historia’s dulcet tone surprisingly prevailed amongst deeper voices, although she was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait! You need bandages before anything else! The gash in your side isn’t looking good…”

“Yeah! You’ve literally been through hell and back!” Jean marvelled.

“No, guys! They need food!” Sasha exclaimed as if she'd made a grand discovery, grabbing a half-boiled potato straight out of the pot.

“Sasha, no! The potatoes aren’t done yet-”

“Oi, what the hell is going on here?!”

“C-Captain Levi!” Jaeger stumbled back on his feet, broom in his hands, his headscarf sitting askew on his head. The huddle immediately dispersed, everyone had gone dead silent. Levi scanned the room quickly, not paying much attention to the soldiers’ faces and rolled his eyes.

“I thought I told you to clean up the kitchen, not turn it into a pigsty!” He passed a critical hand over the table, gathering up the dust in his palm and making a grimace. Cleaning supplies, pots and cups were scattered all over the floor and the table, as if the cadets had all come to a mutual agreement of dropping everything at once just to see how many white hairs Levi would gain in his hair.

“B-but-”

“Get back to work and stop yelping, you’re turning my brain into mush.”

But before he could open his mouth to bark another order at Jean, his eyes finally landed on who was once the centre of the huddle: Historia Reiss holding on to a hunched figure’s arm, obviously attempting to provide support, but ending up resembling more of a lost puppy clinging to someone’s sleeve.

“Captain Levi!” the petite girl exclaimed, a hint of relief present in her voice, “I-I went to get water from the fountain and I found them there! They seem stable, but I think they might need a doctor-”

His thoughts were running at light’s speed, yet he couldn’t get his body to wake up from its frozen state at the bottom of the stairs. What must’ve only been seconds felt like hours. As if time had decided to finally slow down, to finally stop the nonsensical blurry of days, months, years passing by only to give him a chance to breathe. A chance to understand. Was it just too good to be true?

“Captain…?” Springer trailed off, eyes bulging out of his little bald head, and quickly recoiled as Jean subtly elbowed him in the stomach. Only then did Levi notice that he had been standing among the shattered porcelain of what used to be his teacup, his hand still hanging in the air as if clinging to the ghost of the object.

The cadet finally raised their eyes from the floor, face bloodied and battered, yet still brightened by youth and devotion.

“Captain Levi… sir.” They saluted in a weak voice, raising two fingers to their temple.

Their last name rolled off Levi’s lips in a stronger tone than he thought he’d manage, yet still trailed off a bit in disbelief. Clearing his throat, he stepped over the broken porcelain.

“So. You came back, huh?” Out of all the words piled up on the tip of his tongue, begging to spill out, the best he could come up with was a rhetorical question. But the soldier still let out a dry chuckle, straightening their back as much as their wounds allowed them to. Their legs wobbled and the Ackerman girl, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, immediately jumped in to offer extra support. Seeing the usually stone-faced Mikasa’s facial expression filled with a flurry of emotions similar to those churning in his heart allowed him to relax a bit.

“Of course.” The wounded cadet answered. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Levi gave a slight nod, features stoic, yet he felt his heart grow with pride in his chest. The same glint of determination glowed in their eyes as it did back then, during their rookie days, when they had placed their fist over their heart and had sworn to stay alive. He had heard the same promise come out of so many of his dead comrades’ mouths that realistically, he shouldn’t have expected this particular soldier to honor it. Yet for some reason, unknown even to himself, he had chosen to place his fragile trust in them. Maybe it had been their thirst for revenge, or their sheer willpower which, dare he say, could surpass Eren’s; whatever it had been, he did not regret it.

He drew closer, steps light as feathers on the wooden floor and took advantage of their hunched position to card his fingers through their hair, ruffling it affectionately. These damn kids keep getting taller… he thought bitterly to himself. The gesture managed to transform their wince of pain into a look of total and innocent wonder. The look in the eyes of a kid who's just got the utmost gesture of validation from a parent.

“You’re a good kid,” he conceded, patting their scalp twice before letting his hand fall back to his side. He could barely recognize the gentle tone of his own voice. “Although were you not wounded, I’d have roundhouse kicked your ass for scaring everyone like this.”

The phrase hadn’t even been that funny, in his opinion, but they let out a joyous, loud laugh, contagious to the people around them. It even pulled a chuckle out of Mikasa.

And as he stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the laughter of youth, he finally understood. Placing his trust in these kids, fighting alongside them, protecting them with the price of his life were worth all the risks because they were humanity’s last hope. And he would do anything to one day see their joyful faces wiped clean of crimson wounds and dirt and death. Anything.

[pkg4mumtown]

Signs of Attachment (Ch. 3)

Summary: Having an auditory processing disorder never slowed you down, but it mean you were confined to the Temple when the Clone Wars started. Will the frustration of not understanding people at times make for a rather lonely existence?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Pairing: Obi-Wan/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G (for now)

Warnings: Hard of Hearing Reader, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader

Taglist: @trash-dino-5000

A/N: Thank you, again, for everyone who’s read. This is the tentative end, but I may add an epilogue at some point!!

Just a reminder:

“Text.” Means someone is speaking.

“Text.” Means someone is speaking and signing.

Text, Means someone is signing.

Chapter 3 - Falling

I mulled over a data pad in my examination room, counting down the seconds until I could run to the mess hall for lunch. I felt an all too familiar signature approaching my door, making me look up before it had even opened. It had been a couple months since that spar with Obi-Wan, but we had both enjoyed it so much that we made a habit of it at least once a week. Though, not as intensely as that first one that left both of us rather sore the next day.

“Good afternoon,” Obi-Wan signed immediately upon seeing my eyes fixed on him. His voice rang out melodically, so I basked in it before it would inevitably become muddled.

My eyes widened when I saw his hair, “You got a hair cut?”

He paused, embarrassed because I’d noticed.

“Yes, yesterday,” he ran a hand through his hair, which was brushed over to the side, his mullet long gone.

“It looks good, I love it, Obi-Wan,” I complimented, his cheeks tinting pink almost immediately.

“Have you had—lunch?” He asked, stumbling over the sign at the end.

“No, not yet,” I stood and stretched.

“Come with me,” he nodded his head toward the door with a bright smile.

“What are you up to?” I squinted my eyes at him.

“You’ll see,” he winked.

I followed him, impressed with his progress every day. Obi-Wan led us away from the direction of the mess hall, toward the entrance to one of the gardens.

I smacked his arm to get his attention, “Where are we going? The mess hall is that way.”

“Patience,” he smirked and patted my shoulder. He led me with his hand still firmly on my shoulder while we entered the gardens. We weaved our way through to the back until we stopped at a sort of clearing. I felt him tap my shoulder before he dropped his hand.

“My Master and I used to—have mid-meal here often,” he explained.

“It’s beautiful, Obi-Wan,” I sighed in awe at my surroundings. I had been in the gardens hundreds of times but never in this specific spot, hidden just for Obi-Wan and his Master. I looked down, seeing a small blanket, just barely big enough for us to sit on, and lunch already spread out for us, my head snapping to him in question.

“You planned this?” I questioned.

“Yes,” he signed, then waved his hand for me to sit down. “An excuse to get you alone, nothing compares to conversation.”

“I agree.”

We sat facing one another so signing would be easier, our legs crossed and knees nearly touching each other. The food was off to the side of us for us to grab. As we dug in to the food he had brought, my involuntary sigh of happiness at finally being able to eat made him laugh softly, something so much easier to hear here where it was relatively quiet and low distraction. I waved my fingers up and down at him to get his attention as he looked off elsewhere.

“Obi-Wan, did you make this?

A laugh bubbled from his lips and his head shook, “Stars, no, ask Ana—kin, I can’t cook.”

I felt a smile tug my lips as I watched him stumble over fingerspelling, “That’s not good!”

He just shrugged, “He survived.”

“How is your Padawan?” I wondered, not having seen him in a couple weeks.

“He was knighted,” Obi was signed, mimicking the cutting of a Padawan braid with his fingers behind his ear.

My eyes widened in shock, “That’s amazing, Obi-Wan, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he signed, then bowed his head.

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, “What does this mean?” He asked and mimicked a sign I had just used.

My cheeks burned a little at having to explain it, “It’s your name.”

“But, my name is signed,” O-B-I- — -W-A-N? He finger spelled his name.

“Yes, you’re right, but see how long that took?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

Yes, “It was a lot,” Obi-Wan half signed and half spoke.

“Of course, if it’s okay with you, I shortened it to that. It’s just your hand making an ‘O’ and a couple swipes to your jaw,” I explained and demonstrated it again.

“That’s so much easier,” he repeated the sign. “Why here, though?” He asked, gesturing to his jaw.

“Um, your…beard,” I stuttered slightly.

“Interesting,” Obi-Wan murmured, running his hand over said beard.

I stared at the way his fingers sifted and twisted in the hair. I snapped myself out of a trance and continued on explaining.

“Usually, personal signs like that have your initial and something distinctive about you. Something you wear, your favorite animal, your occupation…”

“I see, so what would Anakin’s be? Because spelling his was exhausting, too,” Obi-Wan chuckled. I smiled involuntarily at the sound of his laughter, not always able to hear it so clearly in our brief passings.

“You’ll get better at it in time,” I nudged his knee with mine and finger-spelled “Anakin” quickly.

“That’s not fair,” he nudged back.

“Well, Anakin has a scar, right? That’s identifiable, so maybe this?” I made an “A” and drew a line down over my right eye with my thumb.

“That’s…genius, how did I not think of that?” Obi-Wan sighed.

“It can be hard to come up with them sometimes,” I shrugged.

“What did you use for Master Plo?” Obi-Wan wondered.

The words decided, then, to muddle together making me look at him strangely, Repeat, I signed to him.

“Sorry, what sign did you use for Master Plo,” he repeated and added sign.

“I made a ‘P’ with both hands and did the gesture for teacher, pretty much,” I demonstrated it for him. “It got the point across as him being my teacher. Similarly, he made my initial and did the gesture for student for me.”

“Clever, though you’re not my student, so what would you use now?” His hand made its way back to his beard, letting his fingers smooth over the chin area. And he wondered why I chose that area for his name.

“Mmm…the closest thing we have to ‘healer’ is ‘doctor’ so maybe…” I trailed off as I formed my initial with my dominant hand and tapped the inner part of my wrist on my non-dominant hand with that palm facing up. “I’d never really needed it before, but that works pretty well.”

I watched Obi-Wan repeat the sign a few times to commit it to memory.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he signed.

“Nice to meet you, too, Obi-Wan,” my shoulders jumped with laughter.

“How long do you have left on—your break?”

“Thirty minutes,” I answered after checking my comm for the time. I groaned and let myself fall backwards, my feet unfolding to land on either side of Obi-Wan. Most of my body was now in the grass behind me, not that I minded.

“Hey, you can’t nap, I can’t sign if you’re laying down!” Obi-Wan protested at my dramatic gesture.

“Relax, Obi, you’re doing well,” I rolled my eyes.

“But I’d like to get practice in!”

“We’re you a master’s pet? Because you sound like one. Oh, who am I kidding, of course you were,” I closed my eyes and rested my hands on my stomach.

I felt Obi-Wan move next to me and lay down, “I resent that.”

“But, was I not correct?” I opened my eyes and turned my head in his direction, seeing his head propped on his hand and looking down at me.

All he did in response was squint. Obi-Wan huffed and laid on his back, playfully bitter about not being able to practice, as if he hadn’t set up a whole lunch date. His hand fell into the grass, softly picking at the blades while the other rested on his chest.

“Obi, huh?” He commented turning his head slightly to raise an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry,” I murmured back, letting a hand slide off my stomach and fall into the grass, my pinky landing on his.

“I wasn’t complaining.”

“Your name is just so tedious that I have to shorten it in speech and sign,” I stressed the “and” by poking the back of his hand with my index finger.

“Yes, well I didn’t choose it, dear.”

“‘Dear’? How old are you?” I snorted.

“Our Temple Days are only five months apart, don’t insult me!”

“Says the man with gray hairs,” I mumbled.

“You’re insufferable. It’s a wonder I don’t have more, now,” he ripped a few blades of grass and used the force to fling them at me.

“You’re the one who invited me,” I sent the grass back at him, hearing him bat the grass off his face with his other hand.

I felt his hand shift under mine, taking it as a sign for me to move my hand, but as soon as I did his palm turned up and grabbed my hand back. I felt a blush rising up my neck, that I could probably pass off as a reaction to the grass, but probably not well. I could feel the contentment he was pushing through the force where our hands met, only making my blush rise faster.

What in the world was he doing?

He settled his hand when he was sure I wasn’t going to take mine back and let his fingertips barely pass through mine. Enough so, that if I squeezed my fingertips together just slightly, I could feel his next to mine.

“Why are you learning BSL, Obi-Wan?” I blurted out.

I did my best to shield my feelings, especially since we were touching, but I couldn’t help wondering why he was doing this. In the back of my mind, I knew it was for me but the fact of the matter is he was a model Jedi. He had no business growing so close to me these last seven months, learning a whole new language for me, and quite literally holding my hand in this moment.

I was too nervous to turn my head all the way but saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed anxiously. I could no longer feel contentment though his hand, but a nervous, vibrating energy instead. Obi-Wan’s fingers slipped entirely passed mine, lacing our fingers together purposefully.

I could read into it without him saying anything, but I was not going to be the reason one of the Order’s greatest Jedi would be expelled, or worse, fall to the dark side. Not that I was entirely without fault here, either. I had definitely fallen victim to attachment toward him, as well; hard.

“Obi-Wan, I can’t d—,” I moved to sit-up, but Obi-Wan sat up faster.

Please, wait, he let go of my hand very briefly to sign.

“Not now, I—.”

Please.

I could see the urgency in his eyes and hear it desperately in his voice as he plead with me, so I paused my hasty exit.

You’re—important to me, he signed slowly, foregoing speech because of the topic, trying to figure out what he wanted to confess as he went.

This isn’t good, Obi-Wan, the Council—

—Can’t understand BSL, he interrupted.

No, but they can read the force. You forget my old Master is also on the Council, I let my arms flop down in frustration.

I’m on the Council, too, now, or have you forgotten? He challenged with a playful twinkle in his eye.

Regardless, they are very set in their ways and my shields aren’t as impeccable as yours, my signing was more erratic than normal, his eyes tracking everything and trying to understand as quickly as possible. If I wasn’t so terrified, I would have said it was good practice for him.

I’ll help you, he took one of my hands in his tightly.

I scoffed and shook my head, No.

I quickly stood up, dropping Obi-Wan’s hand, only to be stopped by a single string of signs.

I’ve fallen in love with you, he finally signed, almost defeatedly dropping his hands in his lap. His eyes were downcast, my entire body frozen as I stared down at him sitting on the blanket. That’s why I’ve kept learning, because I…, he trailed off.

I didn’t even try to pretend that I didn’t feel the same way in that moment, he was just brave enough to say it first. I stared at him for ages, in tune with how his signature had wilted ever so slightly during this extended silence. I finally stuck my hand out to him, to which he looked at and then up at me. I waved my fingers impatiently, so he grabbed my hand and pulled himself up.

We stood almost chest to chest, neither of us moving. I held his gaze, trying to bring myself to sign but my hands were shaking next to me. Obi-Wan brought his hand up, brushing his thumb along my cheek. He didn’t rush me but seemed content to just watch my nervous face. Finally, I brought my hands up, his eyes immediately focusing on them out of habit.

I—I’ve fallen for you, too, I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t feel like this, we shouldn’t…, I looked down, feeling guilt wash over me like a tidal wave.

“No, no, no,” Obi-Wan murmured, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Never be sorry, not for this.”

I allowed myself to sink into his arms, the guilt barely subsiding at the contact. At least until Obi-Wan metaphorically opened the floodgates and pushed through the feelings he had kept hidden from me. I gasped against his tabards, a warmth surrounding me and taking my breath away. I pulled my head back to look at him, running my hand over his beard and smiling as he nuzzled into my palm. Obi-Wan let go of me with one hand, taking my hand in his own so he could bring it to his lips. With his eyes closed and a desperate kiss to my knuckles, he let my hand go and dropped his other from around me.

Can I kiss you? He signed shyly, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly.

Pleas—

He barely let me finish the full sign before he was pulling me back into his arms. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his shoulders as his mouth descended on mine.

There was nothing complicated or urgent about it, just a simple, exploratory meeting. I pulled away first, the location of this scandalous occurrence suddenly hitting me.

“I need to get back to the Halls of Healing,” I sighed as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“Let me walk you.”

I nodded, allowing him to hold me close as we walked until we got to the busy hallways. In the semi-safe enclosure of my examination room, Obi-Wan pulled me close and kissed me again. This time, more urgently than before, his tongue swiping along my bottom lip and making me clutch his tunics tighter.

I smiled into the kiss but pushed him back by his chest, You’re getting too excited.

Sorry, he replied shyly.

I’ll see you later, I signed, punctuated with a quick kiss.

I’ll be waiting, he stepped backwards toward the door until the door swooshed open. I love you, he signed with his back to the hallway.

I love you, too.

With that, Obi-Wan left the doorway, giving me a passing sign for “ILY” while waving with that index finder at the same time.

[gotnofucks]

Congruence

Written for @holylulusworld 10k follows challenge!

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader, Loki x Reader

Trope: Love Triangle

Summary: Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: None? Strong language, I think. Fluff and bad English (not my first language)

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this so please bear with me. Also, I’m a sucker for happy endings so…yeah.

MASTERLIST

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Wong was losing his fucking mind. He was one more broken vase away from cursing in Vedic Sanskrit and spent every hour cursing Thor for sending his miscreant brother to live at the New York Sanctum. He could have gone to Hong Kong, or maybe London where he would have fit right in with that English accent. But no! He had to send him here in New York with Wong and Stephen and you.

You had been living at the sanctum for only two months when Thor literally dropped Loki here. Wong and Stephen had been sitting in the living room when the ceiling cracked open and someone fell from the sky with a resounding THUD. Loki had looked up from the floor with utter contempt in his face at his brother who landed solidly on his feet.

“Hey there, doctor!” Thor bellowed, patting Stephen roughly on the shoulder and gave Wong a bear hug.

The sorcerers had stared at the two Asgardians with absolute shock on their faces until Wong exploded.

“Can you please for fucks sake use the door like a normal person!? Every time you are here you break something! The ceiling for god’s sake! Do you have any idea how much time and effort it takes to repair that?”

Thor looked at the ceiling with no remorse while his brother dusted himself off.

“Can’t you just, you know, reverse time with the stone and fix it?” Thor asked, taking a seat without being offered one.

“What are you doing here? And why, if I may ask, is your brother here?” Stephen asked rolling his eyes. Thor made the occasional stop at the Sanctum from time to time just for the fun of it. Banner bet him 10 bucks it has a lot to do with Wong being recently single, Stephen disagrees and says its because their kitchen is always stocked with Pop Tarts.

“Ah, you can keep my brother” Thor said nonchalantly, stretching his legs out and being comfy in his chair.

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are, trying to treat me like an object?” Loki spat.

Before Thor could retort, Stephen banged his hand on the table. “I have no plans to keep your brother, Odinson. Pray, take him and leave. And while you’re at it, put some money on the table for the ceiling. We may have magic, but we don’t use it to put splintered wood back together.”

“You must keep him doctor, for the good of the nine realms.” Thor said, raising his hands slightly in resignation.

“Have you started another war already?” Wong asked curiously, eyeing the God of Mischief who looked about ready to stab his brother.

“He hasn’t, yet. But I’m leaving Midgard for some time and Valkyrie doesn’t want him around. They will end up killing each other by the end of the week. He’s got magic, you can make use of him here. Hell, make him fix that ceiling.” Thor said.

Loki was seething at having been treated like a naughty child while the adults talked around him. They hadn’t let him utter a word in his defense and he doubted it would matter if they did hear him out. Whatever, he didn’t want to stay with Valkyrie either. Before Thor dragged him here, he’d switched all her alcohol with fruit juice. She would be spitting fire for days and he was safer here. And so, it was decided that Loki would stay at the sanctum until Thor returned. What he would do here remains to be seen. Stephen wasn’t pleased with the situation, but he’d rather Loki stay here than cause some other world ending event that would drag him and other Avengers out to clean up his mess later.

You were in the library when this weird turn of events was happening, so you hadn’t had the chance to meet Loki yet. You were a new recruit at the sanctum, chosen personally by Wong who felt they needed more than just two sorcerers to protect this place. Until then you were under training with both of them and were still getting your feel of this space. You had so far met no one other than your two mentors so you were rightfully surprised to stumble on man wearing green cape and eating your cereal in the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously while he did the same, chewing slowly.

“Y/n meet Loki. He’ll be staying with us for some time”, Wong said as ways of introduction. Wong adored you since he saw you in Kamartaj and had you brought here as soon as your preliminary training there was over. You were still very young, only in your 20s, so you brought with yourself a light and life that had previously been lacking in this sacred place. Ever since you came here, the sanctum had flower vases in almost every room and soft music could be heard at odd times. You didn’t take long to adjust to your life in New York and often forced both Stephen and Wong to eat something other than take out. You laughed and smiled and brought with yourself a woman’s touch to this dreary place. Wong wasn’t the only one affected. Stephen, who had initially been very against the idea of another sorcerer in the sanctum warmed up to you quick enough. So warm in fact that Wong could almost call it affection.

“Hi Loki, does your cape float too?” You asked and sat across him, pouring some cereal and milk into your bowl. Loki stopped eating and bent his head a little to the side, curious.

“It doesn’t.” He said at last.

“That sucks, I love flying cloaks. Stephen’s cloak – I call it Levi – loves to take me on rides. If your cape were a sentient too, maybe they could have been friends. Everyone should have friends, even clothes.”

Loki was looking at you with a small, amused smile.

“I can enchant it for a few hours; however, it won’t remain animated forever.” Loki said. He didn’t like talking to strangers, but you were so sweet, so unafraid of him that it pleased him. You had no awkwardness when you spoke, and no note of hatred in your voice, something that didn’t happen often in his conversations with people.

Your eyes brightened and you launched into a discussion about animation enchantments, something that the masters at Kamartaj had steered clear off. They were very adamant about how to use magic, and walking furniture was somewhere they drew the line. Loki’s magic was very different to yours and it fascinated you. This was how Stephen found you, deep in conversation with an amused Loki who looked at you softly. He scowled.

“What’s happening here?”, he asked, coming to stand behind you.

“Did you know it’s possible to morph your body in someone else’s completely? Solid illusions!”, you prattled on.

“Of course, I know, I just don’t use it.” Stephen said and took the seat beside you.

“You never said! You’ll teach me?” Your eyes were bright as you asked this, and it was with great restraint Stephen shook his head and said no. He found it difficult denying you anything and if he ever admitted it to himself, he would say he’s fond of you. Very fond.

Your face fell at his denial.

“You won’t teach me? Why?”

“Some magic is too advanced for you right now. We’ll build it up and maybe someday I’ll teach you, although I’m not fond of it. Some magic is just…silly.”

Loki was looking at your exchange with a small smirk and as you lowered your face in dejection, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and looked straight at you.

“I can teach you.” He said and watched your eyebrows raise before a small smile formed on them. You looked happy until you remembered your mentor sitting beside you and looked at him with a forlorn expression. Stephen’s hands clenched and he resisted the urge to mash Loki’s face in his cereal.

“Like hell you would! I’m her instructor and the only thing you’re doing is staying out of trouble.” Stephen said, one hand leaning over the back of your chair, a gesture not lost on Loki.

“Didn’t Thor say I could be of help here? Well, this is it. I could help teach Y/n and we can compare notes on our magic. Wouldn’t you like that, Y/n?” Loki asked you in a sweet voice and you nodded eagerly, eyes pleading with Stephen to agree. You looked so earnest, so willing to learn, that Stephen couldn’t find it in himself to say no. He wanted to, he wanted to shout that he will teach you all you needed to know and more, that he is someone you can rely on. But he simply said yes.

Throughout this whole conversation, Wong, who was busy cooking hadn’t said a thing but if the stiffness in his shoulders was to go by, he was not a happy man. He knew some shit was about to go down, and lord did he not want to be a part of it.

From that day, what happened in the Sanctum was something Wong could only call an over glorified dick-measuring contest between Stephen and Loki. They did all but whip their tools out and boink each other on the head with it.  

It started from little things like teaching you something new and praising you about it. You loved to have your work being acknowledged and would blush a deep red at being praised. Loki had fumed for hours watching you and Stephen work and you giggling with a red face as Stephen told you what a good job you had done. In retaliation, Loki started teaching you enchantments and when you got them right, he would pat your hand and tell you that you were a good girl. That blush, and the glare he received from Stephen was a treat.

It didn’t stop with academics. The men started vying for your attention in the kitchen, each trying their hardest to win you over with more and more complicated dishes. Wong put his foot down when Loki made a Nutella sandwich that was a foot high and dripped with toasted marshmallows that took hours to scrub off. Stephen had laughed outrageously when Wong scolded Loki, telling him to clean up his mess and if he ever did something like this again, he’ll be using his toothbrush to clean the sanctum. Stephen stopped laughing however when Wong turned to him with a spatula in his hand. “And you! You’re banned from cooking too. I can’t go shopping every day to get you ingredients because you want to make Y/n pastries and pies and stupid Turkish delights three times a day. Out of my kitchen! Now!”

The antics continued, more often than naught resulting in skirmishes between the two men which in turn resulted in a lot of broken vases, furniture, and in some rare events, bones. They fought over who you spent more time with, smiled wider at, and laughed harder at. It drove Wong crazy, an unfortunate bystander to the playground tricks of two boys fighting over a toy. But you were more than a toy, that he could tell.

You weren’t oblivious to what was happening. You were young, not naïve and so you spent your days very amused. You didn’t mind this attention, far from it in fact. Two very handsome and powerful men, for reasons best known to them, were trying their best to impress you. It made you giddy and feel wanted, but also confused because while you weren’t in love with either of them, you didn’t think you’d be able to choose one when the time came for it. Surely, they can’t keep doing this forever and will one day give you the ultimatum to make a choice. You dreaded that day because with each passing day, with each sweet gesture and praise, with each hug lasting a little longer and each eye contact being a little hotter, you were reminded that with choosing one you would lose the other. That didn’t seem like the happy ending you wanted.

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Loki was at his wit’s end and knee deep in books and ancient relics. He had scrounged every storeroom and tome trying to find what he wanted to no avail. His hair was disheveled from running his hands through it too many times and he wished you would braid it like you’d done a couple nights ago. What had begun simply as an amusing prank to show up Stephen Strange ended up being a true gamble in the game of love. He didn’t really expect to start liking you like this. Sure, you were different, and he acknowledged that fact within minutes of meeting you. But he didn’t know that he would seriously start considering his intentions towards you. At most he had hoped he would find a friend in you, but he didn’t just want to be a friend anymore. He wanted you with your tinkling laugh and ability to cast spells far above your level. He wanted to see you defend him against Thor and to tell you stories of Asgard as you took a walk through New Asgard by his side. He wanted you so bad and he’d be damned if that red cloak wearing second rate wizard took you from him.

“What in the world are you doing?” Wong asked as he entered Loki’s room to find it strewn with books and odd ornaments. Loki was sitting on the floor looking quite frustrated, and well, a little pathetic.

“I can’t find it. I’ve searched almost every book and every relic you have here. I can’t find it!” Loki moaned. Wong didn’t know what he was looking for, but he felt a small spark of pity for the god.

“What are you looking for?”

“Aladdin’s lamp”

There was a pregnant pause in the room.

“Excuse me?”

“Aladdin’s lamp. Y/n was talking about how Strange’s cloak – Levi as she calls it – would have loved having the flying carpet as his friend. And I asked her about this carpet, and she told me it belonged to the Genie who came out of Aladdin’s lamp when rubbed. I want that lamp so I can ask this Genie fellow to loan me his carpet”

It was a tough battle between laughing and patting the god on his head like a small child. Wong fought the impulse to do either and sat down on a chair after depositing the books on it on the table. “You won’t find it here”, he told Loki whose head shot up at this.

“Why not? Is it at some other sanctum? London?”

“It’s…nowhere.”, Wong said and raised a hand to stop Loki from interrupting. “Aladdin is a fictional story, so is the lamp and the genie and the carpet. Y/n loves reading about them and watching the movie adaptations. She likes to see how morals have interpreted magic.”

Loki’s mouth dropped open and for a moment he looked about ready to cry for having wasted so many hours searching for something that didn’t exist. Then, he miraculously started laughing.

“Norns! This woman drives me up a wall! She mentions one thing and I just want to do that for her. I’m not even mad at her or myself, just disappointed that I’ll have to search for something else to get her now. What the hell happened to me?”

Wong looked at a man who was very nearly, if not already in love with you. He didn’t like Loki very much, but he didn’t want this man to go through a heart break either. He would have to talk to you, soon.

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Stephen fancied himself a step ahead of Loki because he had known you a little bit longer, but if he was being honest, there wasn’t much to go by. His insecurities had a lot to do with that, for he believed you would prefer Loki, a handsome man over a scarred man like him. But you had never mentioned anything about his slightly trembling hands. You had taken to his life without a hitch and so seamlessly blended into a routine with him, Stephen felt like you had always been a part of his life. He couldn’t remember when you’d started helping him tie his robes, or necktie when the occasion called for it. He couldn’t remember when he’d started eating home cooked meals instead of takeout at the deli Wong preferred. One day he was living without you, and the other you had taken over every aspect of his life and made it ten times as beautiful. He didn’t know if he could go back to living life as he did before you, and he’d be damned if some green-bean god tried to take you away from him.

“I am going to regret asking this but what are you trying to do?”, Wong asked Stephen who was standing in the middle of his meditation room holding his cloak. Well, holding might not be the correct term. Dancing…with his cloak.

“I am teaching Levi how to waltz”, Stephen said and continued to guide the piece of fabric through the leg movements. Wong watched this with morbid fascination before sputtering incredulously.

“Why?”

“Y/n loves to waltz and as I don’t always have enough time to indulge her, I’m teaching my cloak how to do it so it can keep her company. You’ll do that won’t you, Levi?”

To Wong’s utter astonishment the cloak seemed to nod and was almost elegant in his movements. For a good few minutes Wong watched this scene before sighing. Smitten, both of them. Absolutely wrapped around your finger and most definitely on their way to fall in love. Stephen was his best friend and he looked so happy since you got here, it warmed Wong’s heart to finally see Stephen smile and be genuinely happy.

He really really needed to talk to you and ask you whom you planned to be with, if any of them at all. This is exactly the sort of drama Wong hated and he was sure no matter what you said, someone was going to get their heart broken.

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You were going to do it. You were going to do it today and tell them your decision because you couldn’t take it anymore. The hostility between Loki and Stephen was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t spend a minute in one’s company before being interrupted by the other. In the end, you just left them both, hence losing the joy of both their presence. And poor Wong. You could see him trying to summon courage for what you knew was going to be a very uncomfortable talk. The past few months Loki had lived here had been the best and worst months of your life. But now that things were starting to affect not just your friendship but also your academics (because both your instructors ended up attacking each other and spent two days in the sick bay), you needed to make a choice. So, you did what you did best and got to baking.

“It smells like Valhalla here, Y/n”, Loki said as he watched you work.

“Why won’t you let us see what you’re making?” Stephen asked, trying to look around you but you glared at him and he sat down again.

“Will you both for god’s sake ask the important question? Why the hell are we wearing these outfits?” Wong grumbled.

You looked at the three men seated around the table in Harry Potter robes, each holding a handmade wand and pointy hat you’d forced them to wear. They had protested and whined (I’m not a witch for Norn’s sake!) but had given in easier than you thought. You really did have them wrapped around your little finger.

“Could you wait for like two minutes? This needs to be perfect!” You chirped and got back to your tray.

“I’m too old to be doing cosplay”, Wong said with a huff.

“Shut up”

It took you another ten minutes to perfect your stuff, a tray lined with identical muffins with Hogwarts logo and the sorting hat on top. Picking it up you sat it down on the table before the three men and then sat down yourself.

“These are the sorting muffins but with a twist”, you declared. Loki looked on with interest. He’d watched and read all the Harry Potter books and movies at your behest.

“I hate this, and I hate twists. The last time I saw a twist was when this one-”, Wong pointed at Stephen “-annoyed a cosmic being into accepting defeat. I still get nightmares about that”

“Oh, don’t be so dull Wong. These are compatibility muffins. We don’t need sorting, we’re already sorted. You are obviously a Ravenclaw because you’re the librarian, Stephen is of course Gryffindor because Levi is red, similarly Loki is Slytherin because that cape is definitely a Slytherin green. And I am a Hufflepuff because I am the best.” Your speech did not have the jubilant response you expected, and you crossed your arm with a deep disappointed sigh. Stereotypical as your sorting had been you expected something more than blank faces.

“So, what are these muffins for?”, Stephen asked.

“We all take one and see what color filling we find. The person whose house we get, that’s the person we’re most compatible with.” Now you had your expected response. Both Loki and Stephen sat at attention eyeing the muffins critically, trying their hardest to guess which one had the yellow icing in the middle. Beside them Wong groaned and facepalmed. Of all the ways for you to choose a partner, trust you to play a game of luck involving a children’s fantasy book. He was regretting putting that talk off now.

“So, if I get blue…” Loki trailed off

“Yeah, you and Wong can go make out in the corner” You answered. “But of course, Wong must get green too you know, or you’d have to find another Ravenclaw. Consent is important after all”

It was the dumbest shit you had ever come up with. You knew it, everyone else knew it. But if this was how it was supposed to go so be it. Everyone ignored Wong’s complain of ruining a good desert and set out to choose their most perfect muffin. They were all identical to the last crumb, and it took an annoyingly large amount of time for both your suitors to choose their pieces. After they had deliberated and finally chosen their muffins, you casually selected one and motioned for Wong to do the same.

Finally, with muffins in all your hands and eyes full of anticipation and trepidation, you all took a bite.

Stephen’s face broke out in a grin as he showed off his bitten muffin with a yellow center. That smile however turned into a frown as Loki showed a yellow centered muffin too. Wong, feeling utterly stupid showed his red centered muffin and then all eyes turned to you. With a straight face you turned your muffin and-

“Motherfucker!”, Wong cried and with his head in his hands began laughing and crying simultaneously. Loki and Stephen looked stunned, staring open mouthed at the two-colored center of your muffin. Red and green.

“What?” They both said.

“I can’t choose. I just can’t. That’s not who I am.” You said and looked them both straight in the eye, hoping they’ll see reason in what you’re saying. “How do you choose between two people who love so much? You can’t quantify that feeling, you can never tell if its greater for someone or not. Call me a coward or a bitch, I don’t care. This is the truth. I love you Stephen. I love all your music references and stupid movies you make me watch. And I love you Loki, with that English accent and your horrible cooking. I love you both and I am here if you’ll have me. This is what I can offer you, because I sure as hell can’t break either of yours heart.”

You didn’t know what was going to happen. You hadn’t exactly meant to drop the L-word, but well, it was true. You couldn’t break their hearts, so you put the ball in their court and allowed them to break yours instead. It was much better than going through with the pain of choosing one of them, especially when your heart beats simultaneously for two. You braced yourself for rejection, because sharing a person you love is never easy. But if you have to share it with a person you hate, well, its almost impossible.

Loki and Stephen looked at you and then at each other. They seemed to be having some sort of wordless conversation and the longer they remained silent, the more you felt like you’d made a mistake and lost them both. Finally, they nodded at each other and then looked at you.

“I hate this second-rate wizard”

“I hate you too, green puny god”

“But we love you more.”

You blinked once and then again. It took a minute to register what they said but then you were flying and the next second you were in their arms, one man at your front while the other at your back. Sobs whacked your small body as the tension of past few months left you in your lovers’ embrace and you could finally breath easy. You pulled away and looked up with a tear stained face at Loki and Stephen, a watery smile that they reciprocated.

“So, we can finally have sex now after months of violent foreplay”, you remarked making them both laugh and pull you in their arms again. This was it. This was your safe space, your heaven.

Wong was forgotten as the three embraced and he was as baffled as he had ever been. Only you could have pulled off something so crazy. He was so glad he almost joined the group hug himself. No more broken furniture, no more shouting and no more messy kitchens. Life could go back to normal. As soon as he said that thunder rumbled outside and the ceiling cracked, depositing Thor in front of them wearing his armor and red cape.

“What’s happening here?” He boomed, looking around as if he hasn’t just vandalized their home again.

“You’re such a Gryffindor!” You cried, still delirious with joy and hugged Thor who had till now never met you. “I need to shave my whole body!” And saying this you ran away leaving the men staring at your back.

“Who’s that? And what’s a Gryffindor?” Thor asked, sitting at the kitchen table, and stretching his legs. He spotted the muffins and picked one up, taking a huge chunk out. It was blue from within. Both Loki and Stephen turned to look at a red-faced Wong who was cursing in Sanskrit.

“Looks like Banner was right. I owe him 10 bucks”, Stephen laughed.