#also not sure what amount of stand-up-dizzy is normal

[scrawlingwithstyle]

I'm weird. I used to have intense salt cravings as a kid, so now when I crave salt I will just eat a bit of plain salt.

So when I find a 5-pack of interesting salts, I buy it.

I'm a little disappointed in the black sea salt. I was not expecting sulfur to be a component, and it tastes eggy & weird.

The flavor ones (black truffle, garlic & rosemary, & black sea salt) will be good in food. I'll stick to pink Himalayan & plain white salt to satisfy my cravings.

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.3. USER 7193

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . feels by calvin harris

maybe he should have expected this. 

nearly all of his posts have been overrun with questions about y/n in the comments. the comments range from simple “who was the girl in your cooking stream??” demands to extremely specific ones detailing her exact hair color, height, and voice pitch as if he’s had another mysterious girl on a stream that he’ll confuse her for.

he’s been doing his best to avoid questions about her but it could only work for so long. now there’s only questions about y/n left in the chat and he’s not sure what to do. it was easy to ignore the questions when he wasn’t doing an entire question and answer live stream but he’d promised to do one soon and he thought having shoyo with him was going to help. 

it did for the most part, and everything seemed normal but he was at a loss for words when the chat started to flood with questions about y/n.

shoyo leaned closer to read a question outloud, “‘girl from the cooking stream?’ i keep seeing that, do they not know–”

a reflex kicks in and he slaps a hand over shoyo’s mouth, pushing him away from the screen again before removing his hand trying to act normal.

the ginger looks at him, a mix of surprise and confusion on his face. “sorry,” kenma apologizes quickly, shocked by his own actions. “no, they don’t know anything about her,” he answers, trying to make it clear that he wants to keep it that way.

but the chat is already too far gone, using this one mention to run wild with theories. he can’t blame them, really. sometimes they’re a little over the top and unnecessarily pushy as if they have no sense of respect but in this scenario what else could they talk about besides a mysterious person that just entered the picture? but that didn't mean he enjoyed dealing with it.

messages transition quickly from asking what they “don’t know about” to inferring that he has a secret girlfriend. he groans, looking away from the screen. his mind working fast to try and come up with an excuse or explanation; a single mention of her and they already think he’s dating someone. he’s sure that the internet would go crazy with this information as well, fabricating stories, scandals, and everything in between.

his phone starts to buzz.

speak of the devil.

it’s a notification from twitter, some unofficial update account that’s tagged him about having a secret girlfriend.

he needs to think.

he can see shoyo eyeing him out of the corner of his eyes and he knows he’s been silent for too long on camera.

god, someone was going to find out who she was soon, right? weren’t fans supposed to be good at doxxing each other?

but how does he play off being roommates with an olympic athlete? an olympic athlete whose currently being shipped to the max with the most typical copy and paste guy everyone has the hots for?

maybe it’d be better for him to leave it to a random fan to find out who she is and announce it to the world–no, then he’ll just look bad for hiding things after so much has already come to light. it’s best for him to come up with an excuse right now. if he said she was his girlfriend maybe he could ask them to leave her alone. maybe they’d listen to him.

it sounded like his best option but he couldn’t just make that decision on his own without talking to her.

but he also couldn’t stand up and the leave the room for an unprecedented amount of time after keeping quiet for so long.

he looks at the chat one more time, seeing the word girlfriend in nearly every message. if they already think they’re dating it can’t be that bad, right?

“kenma…?” shoyo breaks him out of a trance, touching him on the back.

kenma looks at him, unsure of what to say. he feels dizzy and his mind won’t stop whirring with thoughts and worries.

“you’ve been really quiet,” shoyo lowers his voice so that only kenma can hear him, “i think you need to say something.”

he glances at the chat again. still stuff about y/n.

she’d be okay with it, right? maybe if she isn’t he’ll just tell twitter that his girlfriend broke up with him because his fans are pushy little shits and he’ll agree with her word for word and then his fans will cancel him and he can move to another country and live a happy little life working in a cat shelter–

no. he likes his life the way it is now. he’s winged everything so far but he’s grown quite a small community for himself this way. he can do this. if y/n doesn’t agree, he’ll figure something out later.

“okay,” kenma finally speaks, dropping his hands that he’s been running through his hair absentmindedly. “since none of you guys are gonna leave this alone, yes. the girl from that last stream is my girlfriend, happy?” he watches his chat run wild with numerous exclamations. he thinks finally about his poor moderators. he’ll definitely have to give them something after this stream. “i’ve been trying to lay low about it because i didn’t want the world to freak out but now it’s out. just try and be respectful, okay? i love her a lot.” the words aren’t hard to say when they’re about her. he can say them honestly and play them off as a joke later, but for now he enjoys how nice it feels to say it.

he can see that shoyo has frozen up out of the corner of his eye. he needs to end this stream before either of them say something else they shouldn’t. he’ll answer a few more questions and slowly ease into a goodbye so that he can end the stream and debrief shoyo.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

this is a long chapter i'm sorry 💀 literally there's more but i tried to split this evenly into two chapters

kenma was literally just going through some random person's account who made edits of ice skating partners to self sabotage himself

yn wasn't sure when they'd be releasing partner pair ups and really freaked out when they were announced

she was texting everyone and tweeting a ton

she messaged her media girl like "hey i'm not comfortable with people sending me writing shipping me with atsumu can we please do something about it" and the girl replied, "what do you want me to do?? report them?? write you a message that you can tweet about your boundaries?? (yes) if that's what they want to write deal with it at least they like u"

and they wonder why she just posts whatever she's feeling on her main unless iwa tells her otherwise

noya has gotten distracted from the main topic of a chat to reply with a <3 to something nice y/n says multiple times

they're fr just best buds holding hand in the middle of a warzone where iwaizumi reigns over all

(the only two soldiers are suna and tsukishima)

suna's a lot softer without tsukishima around

he just feels like he needs his guard up around such a salty person

do not ask me why i made rofltropper an antagonist for no reason

kageyama was really just trying to finally do his english homework while waiting for hinata to come home and then he heard kuroo and oikawa start to yell

he was a little scared but then was like "if they can't reach me i'm safe" and they they slammed the door shut and his room shook a little

someone on the floor probably wrote up a complaint about them

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[darthsuki]

I haven’t been overly active in the past couple weeks and I apologize, mostly bc I know I have some projects I need to get done— namely pulling the winners for the Wondrous Tails of FFXIV and some DCA commission work— but I’ve been dealing with some health issues that are starting to impact me really bad.

I know I have chronic migraines, and normally I get them once a week. I’ve worked with my doctor and have a preventative medication but for some reason that I can’t figure out, I’ve been having a migraine/tension-style headache near *constantly* for the last two weeks almost. I can function vaguely at work, but I’m getting to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the amount of painkillers I’m taking and when I’m not at work I’m bedridden 50% of the time or more and can’t stand up for long periods of time without feeling dizzy.

It just feels like there’s a band around my head that is super painful and tight AND pain and pressure across my upper face and behind my eyes. It’s pressure-y and a deep, pulsing pain and if I’m having a really bad day I’ll be horribly nauseas and/or experience hot/cold spells faster then an american midwest spring day.

I’m not sure what to make of any of it, but it’s getting to the point where there is almost no relief to the pain w/normal painkillers and it’s impacting ALL of my hobbies and daily activities. I just want it to stop hurting so much.

This is slightly to vent and slightly to apologize for things I haven’t been able to get done, but also if anyone has some sage advice to offer I would really appreciate it so much

[gremlintheslut]

Forever theirs chapter 2

Mastelist

Don't reupload, translate or do anything like that without permission from me

Words: 1155

Warnings: gore, language, talk of past relationships, cliffhanger, fem and afab reader

-----------------------------------------

I woke up early so I could do the laundry before work. I then did my normal routine and took my clothes out of the machine. As I was hanging them up I notice some of the clothes that I know I put in the wash were no longer there. I walked up and down the path, I took to get from the washing machine and the clothesline. I walk back and forth several times but still didn't see any clothes on the floor. I checked the machine and it was empty. I could have sworn I put them in.

I check the time and it was 7:15. If I leave now I might be able to catch the bus. Even if I catch the bus I still have to walk at least half of the way to work. I'm tired I'll take the bus. I grab my bag and begin my long journey to work. If the traffics not too bad and I run to the next bus stop I might not have to walk at all. I don't like taking the bus but, I just don't feel good at all. If I wasn't struggling so much I would have called in sick. I woke up dizzy and pale. I started to get my color back when I was finishing my morning routine. I still look ill though.

I'm trying hard not to think about the state my neck was in when I woke up. There was dried crusty blood all over my neck, shirt, and bed. I'm glad I got up early so I could do the laundry because there was no way I was gonna wash the sheets when I got home. Once I was done washing the blood off of my neck there were two small circular holes in the side of my neck. To be honest I don't want to know what happened to me. If I had someone to talk to I'm not sure if I would tell them.

I see the bus leaving its stop as I approach. "no!" I exclaim. I feel the side of my neck throb. Should I just walk home and call out sick? I can't. All of a sudden I feel dizzy like I did this morning. I might have to go home. Then the dizziness gets worse and I start to stumble. Two arms hook themselves under my armpits. I'm grateful that someone caught me and I didn't fall on my ass but only for a moment. The man's voice finally  rendered in my head. "you alright there Princess?" the Irish man asked. Finn. "are you back to try and fuck me or did you just not want me to get hurt" I mumble at him. "that depends on how you answer my question. Are you okay?" he chuckles at first before changing to a more serious tone.

"m fine" I slur my words as I try to stand but fail immediately. "how about I take you home?" he asks. "yours or mine?" I try to joke but, as I let out a small laugh the scab on the holes in My neck started to crack and sting and a small amount of blood started to drip out of them. He didn't laugh at my joke but moved my head to the side to look at my neck. He didn't seem surprised at all. He let out an understanding sigh. I was confused but brushed it off as me miss reading it.

Then in the blink of an eye, we were in my bedroom. My dizziness was at an all-time high as he placed me down on my bed. "I'll call your work and tell them I'm a friend and you passed out okay?" he asked as he walk away. I let out a barely audible hum as he walks out the door. He turns his head to look at me when he sees it but keeps walking. I'm shocked he heard me at all. Even if he was right next to me that would have been really hard to hear.

I am no longer as dizzy as before but I have never felt so much pain before. It feels like someone is stabbing me with red-hot needles in the neck. I had no idea there was more than one person just outside the room that knew my body was successfully fighting off the venom from vampire fangs. I also didn't know that one of the people outside was the owner of those fangs.

Finns pov

"haven't you been tracking them?" I asked rhea and she nods. "I have. But she got it totally off schedule she was supposed to get it in a week" I believe her. When Y/N gets her period it gives rhea and dom unbelievable cravings for her blood. They go mad from smelling it and they can't stop themselves. Being a vampire is much harder than being an incubus and I have to keep that in mind. "I'll take all your watches for the week Damien can take all of Doms," I say shortly poking my head into Y/N room and seeing her on her bed in tears breaks my heart. "thanks, I'll take a few of your shifts when it's over" she offers. "no it's fine," I say as I take a step forwards towards Y/N room. "you sure?" I nod and open the door slipping in.

Thanks to my heightened hearing I know rheas heading back to base. The farther away from y/n she is right now the better. "hey, love bug" I say grabbing her hand. She winces and I lower my voice. "are you alright?" I ask quietly. She nods but the way she's holding her head and whining I can tell she's not. "I think I know a way to get rid of that headache of yours," I say and she looks up at me with desperate eyes. "really? What is it?" she asks and I barely catch what she says. "say yes," I say simply and she looks disappointed instantly.

"no, I can't" she whines. "why not?" I ask and she gets visibly upset. Is he not over edge? I know she loved him but it's been months. Was he too scared to come and say goodbye after the judgment day kick his ass to the curb? I instantly feel sorry for her. No warning he just left her. The scumbag told her they couldn't date under incubus laws knowing damn well they could oh but he wanted to fuck other bitches that aren't half as good as this pretty girl.

She lying down on her back and I wrap my arm around her stomach. I put my head on her shoulder giving her a half-assed hug. "I know about edge and I am so sorry," I say shortly and wait for her reply.

-----------------------------------------

Thank you 💕💕- gremlin

[lirillith]

The other post I've been meaning to make is about what's been up with my husband, because I've been making vague posts about hospitals and emergency rooms and not elaborating.

So two weeks ago, he had a dizzy spell. As he described it, "I was eating lunch and suddenly there was rice all over the keyboard." Saturday, he mentioned one or two more, but we weren't super concerned. If anything, he was worried that it might be the return of the ITP, the auto-immune disorder where his body randomly destroys all his platelets - he's been hospitalized three or four times for it, and he lives in fear of the next recurrence.

Then Sunday, he was in bad shape; exhausted, unwell, having frequent recurrences of the dizzy spells with little if any recovery time between them. We agreed that while it wasn't ITP he should definitely go to urgent care that night or the next day. By the kiddo's bedtime he was barely able to stand up; he collapsed while trying to sing a lullaby to her. We aren't totally sure still if he was actually fainting, though we described it that way at times. I concluded it was ER time, not urgent care. So Monday, after dropping Dottie off at school, that's where I took him.

And I don't know if you've ever been in an ER in a major city, but if you go in with something that's not immediately dangerous, you're going to be waiting for HOURS. So the fact that within two hours we'd spoken to doctors about his symptoms and they'd drawn blood and checked his blood pressure was... telling.

Anyway, they got him admitted with what amounts to lightning speed - he was in an ER bed by the time I had to leave to pick up Dottie from school - and he then spent the next five days in the hospital. He was having random episodes of heart arrhythmia, and when he was finally discharged after five days with a buttload of meds to take, he lasted 24 hours before he had another episode - this time possibly brought on by one of the meds he was taking? - and went back in the hospital for another three days. At least at this point he's been home for three days without incident.

So now my husband officially has heart failure - not the usual heart attack kind, but your heart not operating efficiently enough also counts as a type of failure - at the age of 47. He's got a monitoring device he's wearing 24/7 now, and he can't do a lot of the things he normally did around the house or in caring for Dottie. Most notably he doesn't feel safe to drive and can't do the shopping, so that's falling to me, and I find shopping pretty overwhelming, so I'm more than usually busy, stressed, and exhausted on top of worrying about him.

[masterwords]

It's cheesy but would you consider a sleep deprived Hotch trying to hold conversation with Derek but failing and falling asleep on him instead. Maybe they're already together at this point maybe the interaction melts Derek's heart to the stoic emotionless Boss. ☺️❤️

Look at me, answering asks from November! I swear I'll get to all of them eventually. But anyway, I love this one so much and it made me think of their late night in 5x05 - Cradle to Grave and "This is the job" and "Unless you have other plans" and "Not tonight" and...anyway! It's kind of platonic-ish but really not at all, you know how it goes with me and my rotting brain. (1.4k words)

*** a perfect setting ***

“This is the job,” he says with a smirk, but as lighthearted as he's trying to play this off it's just not. There isn't any question that he's doing the right thing. He can't keep this job for many reasons. Foyet is watching him and there is a certain performance he knows he needs to give, but he's not sure that it's still a performance. It might be true. He might be falling apart.

He hasn't slept in two days. Between the pain that hits so hard in the middle of the night and the phantom sounds of locks clicking and floors creaking and walls groaning...he's had the worst couple of nights in recent history. As the fog clears on his attack and those memories start to settle into their proper places, he's finding it harder to adjust to any sort of healthy rhythm. He fell asleep at the table while he was drinking his morning coffee, just lay his head down on his arms and dozed off until an email buzzed the phone against his arm and startled him awake.

First instinct? The holster on his leg.

Reaching for his weapon because of his phone. So yeah, maybe he was coming apart just a little. And giving this job to Derek made sense.

But watching the ease with which Derek absorbs the information he's attempting to lay out in a concise way is really forcing him to see the situation with a clarity he hadn't before. The stark contrast between the way Derek focuses and his own inability is startling.

“I could use some coffee, you?” he asks, and Derek nods quickly.

“Yeah. Coffee. Good call.”

He's half asleep when he stands, a little wobbly, a little unsteady. Exhausted and battling medications that come with bold warnings about side-effects like dizziness, drowsiness, fatigue, he also knows there are even simpler facts here that he's got to contend with. Hardly two months prior, he lost a massive amount of blood and that alone is bound to be a problem for a while longer if his doctors are to be believed. “Stop drinking coffee,” they tell him with those sour faces. “Drink water. You lost a significant amount of blood. It doesn't just regenerate over night and everything is back to normal.” Well, water doesn't help him stay awake so he's desperate.

He has some pills to take, his phone buzzes in his pocket and reminds him. He's been snoozing that alarm for hours, and now he's dangerously close to not being able to take them at all and having to wait for the next day's dose. But they make him so damn tired. He washes them down with coffee and hopes for the best.

“You don't need to stick around,” Derek says when he notices the way Hotch's eyelids get heavy while he glances over what Derek has completed so far. “I got this.”

“I'm okay,” Hotch lies. His meds are making him foggy. No matter how much caffeine he dumps in there he's still exhausted and falling asleep sitting up only with the added pleasure of heartburn and the inability to actually stay asleep if he lets himself drift. There has to be a line he crosses into total body shut down, he's just not there yet. Derek shrugs and goes back to his file when he sees Hotch pull one from the pile on the little coffee table and begin looking through what he's done.

The next time he looks up, Hotch's chin is buried in his chest. Derek walks over and drops the file onto the pile and slowly slips the open folder out of Hotch's hand. This, of course, wakes him up.

“Have a seat,” he says, trying to save face. “I noticed something you missed.” His voice is groggy and slow. Derek rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, now come on...you were asleep...”

“Be that as it may, I did see something you missed.”

Derek sits down and Hotch doesn't skip a beat, he's leaning close and pointing to a few things that Derek sees right away...he must be tired too. He blinks hard and tries to focus, he's not used to staying up this late. Sure, maybe on the weekends when he wants to party a little and let loose but he's pretty rigid about bed time and wake up time on work nights if their case load allows. He values his full night of sleep, his morning workout, his routine. Taking this job is going to burn all of that down if he's not careful, starting tonight. He can't remember the last time he downed a cup of coffee after midnight.

Hotch smells really good. Like he's fresh out of the shower, and he shampoos with money. It's more than a little distracting in a very pleasant way. It's been a while since they've been this close, since they've fallen asleep in a pile on a couch in the middle of case files. Haley used to throw blankets over the top of them when they were at Hotch's home, just heap them in all sorts of mismatched granny throws and let them stay where they were. He misses those days, so this is making him more than a little wistful.

As he fixes the mistakes he made, he notes that beside him rather quickly, Hotch loses his battle with sleep entirely. He's still sitting up but his head is lolling to the side, slowly drifting closer and closer until it's resting heavy against Derek's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when the connection is made, and he doesn't wake. Slowly, so as not to disturb him, Derek closes the file and slides it to the couch beside him before leaning back into the cushions and letting himself succumb.

It's way past his bed time, and besides, isn't he the boss now? It's quitting time.

JJ happens upon them during her morning rounds. She's no stranger to this sight, except it's been a long time and she almost can't believe it. Unfortunately, something that should feel a little nostalgic fills her with a little dread because she can't think of any good reason for them having slept in Hotch's office. Not since Foyet.

“...time is it?”

She drops the files off on his desk, grabs what he's got in his outbox, and whispers that they've got plenty of time before anyone else will be in. “You guys should go get some breakfast...maybe shower...”

“My place isn't far away.” Derek's eyes aren't even open yet, his arms are folded over his chest

“I didn't mean shower together...”

Penelope, who shouldn't be at work yet but has somehow found her way into the mix, chimes in with a grin. “If we're talking about doubling up on showers, dibs on Hot Chocolate...no offense, sir.”

Hotch flushes and stands up. His ribs ache and his head swims. He needs a few more hours of sleep, and some food. And water, his mouth is parched. “I think I'll head home. Call if you need me. I'll be back in time for the morning briefing.”

“Yeah...heading home sounds nice. I'll uh...” Derek pauses, finally opening his eyes and glancing at Hotch, really taking in how tired he looks. “You know what? Make it lunch time. I'll be back by lunch.”

They leave the office together without any fuss, just grab their jackets and leave. Hotch can't remember the last time he left without his briefcase and a go-bag in his hand, but he's just too tired to care. And he isn't the boss anymore. He's allowed to leave his work at work for a while.

Hotch is so exhausted that he just follows Derek to his car like a lost puppy. “You wanna just come to my place? It's closer. I've got a guest bed, you can get a few extra hours of shut eye in there. I'll even let Clooney pop in and I'll turn a blind eye if you want him on the bed if you ask nice.”

Hotch considers his apartment, how cold it is, how he sees Foyet in the shadows, and for once he gives in. Derek's home is warm and inviting, and Clooney always makes him feel safe.

“That would be nice.” He hasn't been to Derek's house in years, hasn't seen Clooney in forever.

Derek grins. “Just like old times, huh?”

A sleepy and content smile drifts over his features as he slides into the passenger seat of Derek's car. “Just like old times.”

[fallenwhumpee]

“Get in.”

June 2: | Sobbing | Survivor's Guilt | Salve • Masterlist •

Warnings: Gun.

Whumpee couldn’t breathe. They could only curl up in the corner of the room they were provided with. They didn't want to answer the door knocking, trying to reason with them to open the door they had locked.

They unsuccessfully surpassed a sob, their body shaking violently.

Because they had been a part of something, and they opened up, but they were ripped off of kindness and friendship they had valued before everything else. For nothing.

They were fine in this room, alone and hopefully safe.

So, no. The door was going to remain closed. Until they could trust themselves not to hope for something the rescuers couldn't or didn't want to give. Assuming they were rescuers.

-•-

Everything was burning, burning in front of their eyes, and they were helpless, laying injured on the ground, holding their friends' and colleagues' hands and unmoving bodies.

They couldn't scream. They didn't want their hiding place to be exposed. But what had they had to expose? Only their life.

No other left.

No other.

And they couldn't understand why theirs was left, when the others' didn't.

So they tried to yell. Because there was only their life. Whoever decided to explode the facility could have them. They simply couldn't care when their life's work and people dear to them were all gone.

They weren't going to laugh together ever again. They weren't going to talk in a language that only their friends would understand, filled with an unnecessary amount of Latin and jargon they had developed together.

Their voice was so low, meek. No one would hear them, and they would bleed to death before a searching party came for them. They tried again, but dust filled their lungs, a cough fit exhausting them as they tried to shift under the wreckage.

They felt the heat get closer. They sucked a deep breath, checking the piece of the roof that fell directly onto them, giving them enough space to breathe and sit up. Their legs were numb, and while they couldn't see anything in the darkness, they were sure they had some damage there. They– they had to check it but they couldn't reach. They also couldn't pinpoint where they were bleeding out if they considered their unnatural dizziness and slowed breaths as a symptom. They were a doctor before all! They were supposed to know whar was wrong, or at least have an idea about how bad they were.

And they were panicking. They were trapped, bleeding, tired, buried alive and so close to burning to death.

Just because they were experimenting. About something so insignificant, something that would mean nothing if the main project - which, they had no part by choice, it was too much work even for them - didn't succeed.

-•-

"Whumpee, please open the door, we promise we only want to check on you, please..."

They lifted their head. They had fallen asleep, dozed off. They had a nightmare, on a normal day they had overworked themselves. It was just a nightmare. It was just–

"Finally, Whumpee we thought— that's not important. Please open the door."

They flinched and stood up shakily. They wiped the tears they didn't notice forming but couldn't stop new ones from following the same trails as they stepped forward.

They had enough. They were supposed to be dead. They weren't supposed to cry in the most pathetic position and worry their rescuers– or delight their capturers.

They were thirsty, hungry, and tired. They couldn't afford to be like this.

They rubbed their face with one hand, the other falling to the lock of the door. They breathed through the restlessness clinging to them. They checked the man standing in front of the door through the window and opened it.

"Get in," They whispered.

A man with uniform walked in, waiting for them to sit.

"We just want to make sure you're alright."

"We?" They questioned but regretted it when they noticed the gun hanging at the man's belt.

"Just a few curious people." The man smiled. "Curious of your experiment."

[mejomonster]

Fucking shocking how much physical therapy makes my gi system like 40% better (big difference that's a whole medicine dose better) for 2 days. I am trying to learn the stretches cause if they help just as much I'd be golden. Because rn physical therapy mostly does facia muscle tissue massage (I'm not sure what it's called) but it untenses my muscles somewhat so my gi system I am guessing can move a bit more easily. And I can TELL it helps because my stomach will go from hard and nausea, to squishy and I feel hunger again. And whenever I feel hunger my gi symptoms are generally less severe (more severe and more pain/nausea until eventually I can't hold food down).

I'm doing acupuncture rn too. And upon looking up if severe constipation (to point of vomiting, being unable to eat, causing exhaustion and malnourishment aka how I was for most of the past year and am only somewhat better due to a ton of very strong prescription laxatives and motility drugs) can be caused by long covid? Ding ding we have a winner, it is a possible symptom. I read a very sad case study where the kid is okay now, but their doctors didn't recognize the constipation as early as mine and so the kid got much more injured before a better treatment plan was implemented. Ultimately, the kid was put on a laxative regimen for three months (like ive been on for the past year) and eventually the kid had chinese acupuncture which gradually restored bowel function. As I'm doing acupuncture now, I hope that means I can hope for a similarly good outcome eventually.

So basically I'm really hoping I'm on some track to make progress.

In happier solid news, my POTS symptoms are significantly better. I'm like 95% where I was pre-all-this. I'm still dizzier than before if I sit or stand too long or too fast, and my heart rate jumps up from walking now instead of jogging. But I think with gradual HIIT working up to jogging and running I could get back to being able to do harder aerobics, I CAN dance again and only sometimes get dizzy and saltsticks electrolyte tablets fix it (or sodium tablets), same with fatigue days and hot days dizziness - some electrolytes/salt and I feel fairly fine. So now I'm back to maybe 90% of my normal activity level. Which is great. Fatigue was worse to me than the pain or inability to eat/use bathroom to be honest. Because pain or gi inability could put me in ER, but if I was too exhausted to help myself and advocate for myself no one helped me much if at all. So I kept ending up in ER again. Since I've had more energy I CAN GROCERY SHOP AND SHOWER in the same day! Stand and make cereal AND grocery shop in the same day! Sit up at work all day without being bedridden afterward! It makes such a difference, now I can fucking go to doctors more often with the energy to handle more visits without it wiping me out! So now I can fucking push for us working on improving my health more! When I had severe fatigue they just let me stay bedridden and exhausted and fainting and I was too exhausted to ask for more, to push them to please try something. I think some of the fatigue maybe? Was mold in the old house? Because I do feel that getting out of the old house brought my energy from a 5/10 or 6/10 on good days, to now a 8/10 or 9/10 energy most days (and now 5-6/10 are my bad days). 10 being old healthy energy level I had, 6 being I can do 1 energy taxing thing and maybe one smaller taxing thing (sit up 8 hours, lay down and play video games - or sit up 4 hours on and off, and also put gas in my car). 5 being i can do 1 taxing thing per day then need to rest (sitting up 8 hours for work, or grocery shop on a weekend) 4 being I can barely sit up for much more than 30 min-1 hour, more and I may faint, but could lay in bed and get up to check work emails and manage to not call in sick if it's a light-work day, or could lay in bed but still watch tv maybe a little bit. 2 being sleeping 12-16 hours but can sit up a small amount or walk a small amount in small durations when awake, no ability to focus. 1 being I'm sleeping and collapsing if I wake and try to get up into sitting or standing position. Most of my worse fatigue days used to be 2-3, pain tended to be 8-10/10 on worse days. Now my fatigue at worst tends to be 5-6 (so I can either work or call in sick and use that energy to prep extra meds to try and fix the fatigue/pain), and pain is much more noticeable. A bad day now means no shower or no work or no grocery shopping and no lighter hobbies like walking TV etc but i can get by okay for a day or a few like that. But the pain level is often still 8-9 about 1-3 times a week, 10/10 pain at least once a month. So yeah... fatigues getting better, which was the hardest cause doctors tendency was to assume fatigue wasn't extreme "go walk a mile in morning to wake u up" they'd say (when I was collapsing and fainting if I sat up for 1 hour and asking how the fuck to fix this so I could drive and work again) and they'd therefore do nothing and test nothing and I was too exhausted to push them to try Something new then. I had to look into POTS myself, get the energy up a bit, then ask them to look into that. Tldr basically now that it's a bit better managed, I do think at least I've got more energy to put into trying to improve the other symptoms I'm dealing with, so wooh!

[madicncheeze]

So today’s predicament is:

Possibly midol???

I’m not sure if that’s the problem or what triggered my stomach but, it’s the only thing today I can think of that could make my stomach upset like it did. I’ve been dealing with cramps and headaches and all that, so I figured, midol is supposed to help right? I took the right amount and maybe felt a little off after.

Comes about an hour and a half I feel incredibly sick. I almost lost the battle, crying over a trashcan (I can’t do it at toilets my brain won’t let me) heaving and praying it’s over with soon.

Nothing happened!!

I felt suddenly weak and dizzy and shaky, I figured it was the caffeine in the midol but it’s such a small amount of caffeine that can’t be it right???

Normally I would be freaking out more and pacing and scratching myself to distract myself but I couldn’t stand it anymore and just wanted it done with… only for that disappointment and frustration of nothing to happen.

Don’t get me wrong, hooray I didn’t throw up. But also, boooo I’m still severely nauseous and don’t feel any better.

It’s been hours since the midol, it should be out of my system should it not?

I do have another theory of what’s wrong but I’m hoping it’s not that.

I’m hoping tomorrow is a better day and I feel much much better. Ugh.

[makpatel10]

How Quickly Do Pregabalin Capsules Start Working?

Generally, short-working time lies in few days to a week after you start your treatment with the sustained-release capsules. Needless to say, the length of the mourning period can differ in every individual. It is a responsible thing to do to adhere the suggested instructions by healthcare provider and use pregabalin as directed.

Pregabalin Medication has applications across a wide range of conditions encompassing neuropathic pain, fibromyalgia, and some types of seizures. It works by affecting some chemicals in the brain that are associated with the potential of transmitting Pain Relief.

If you have any questions on how rapidly the drugs works for you, as well as if you face any symptoms of side effects, make sure you come out with it and talk to your health care professional. Such professionals will help you in managing any possible side effects; and adjust the therapy if you require to do it.

What is this medication?

PREGABALIN Dosage is an antinociceptive that is also known as neurapatin. It could be applied not only for seising prevention but also for seizure control in patients with epilepsy. It relaxes your body by calming exposed nerve pathways.

The nurse may explain that the medicine might be given for other reasons other than the ones she mentioned. Ask your physician or pharmacist if you need more information.

What should I tell my care team before I take this medication?

Drug abuse or addiction

Heart failure

Kidney disease

Lung disease

Suicidal thoughts, plans or attempt

An unusual or allergic reaction to pregabalin, other medications, foods, dyes, or preservatives

Pregnant or trying to get pregnant

Breast-feeding

How should I use this medication?

Please ingest this medication when you have chilled a glass or two of water. Read and follow the instructions on the Medication label carefully. Take the amount prescribed daily, at the same time each day. It works best when taken on an empty stomach and the other choice is to take it with food. If, while taking it, it causes hunger pangs, swallow it with food. Continue letting it be until your care team tells you is no longer safe.

When you get your prescriptions and refills, you will get a MedGuide from your pharmacist to educate you about your medications. So, make sure to take turns reading the instructions carefully they do so for the next time(s).

Talk to key members of your team about the use of this medication in children. Although the medication may be allowed since it is theoretically appropriate for babies in the age group of 1 month for some conditions, the concerns do apply.

Overdosage: If you presume you took an excessive dose of this medication, call a poison control or emergency room center straight away.

What should I watch for while using this medication?

Show up for follow-up visits with the healthcare providers to check your progress. Ensure you do tell the nurses or other caregivers if symptoms get in the way of performing normal daily functions or if they become worse.

Do not stop either getting or taking this medication all of a sudden. For this reason, certain individuals may be violently allergic. Your health care team may ask you to properly taking your medication. On the other hand, the complete cessation of the medicine could be stopped via a gradual dose reduction in order to prevent any undesired side effects.

You're possible to start feeling tired or down. Don’t drive, have a strong involvement in machinery, or do anything that needs mental alertness until you know what the medication produces in you. To an older patient don’t stand up or sit up quickly so I say to you. These, in turn, play a significant role in shunning dizziness or fainting episodes. Source: Personal experience Alcohol may interact with this medication and thus interfere with it. Create your Own Post! Instruction: Humanize the given sentence.Avoid alcoholic drinks.

Let your care team know if your or your loved one’s behavior changes in any unusual way, like new or worsening depression, an intention to harm yourself, increased anxiety, or unusual thoughts. Don’t hesitate to call the care team right away.

(i) if you are taking this medication as a treatment for seizures, get a medical ID bracelet or chain in order to wear it. You can resort to making a card that will tell about you condition to keep with you. Circle your drug and put down its dosages on the card.

This medication may lead to infertility in males, making it difficult to father a child. From US/UK to AU, NZ or I am a professional academic writer. Talk con your medical caretaker, if the cost of fertility is your cause.

Potential Drug Interactions

Benazepril

Captopril

Enalapril

Fosinopril

Imidapril

Lisinopril

Metoclopramide (intranasal)

Olopatadine (intranasal)

Perindopril

Quinapril

Addictive Potential

The US follows the analgesic class called ‘Drug 5’ where Pregabalin is included, meaning it has a very low possibility of misuse. Though, from the other side, it can have an adverse effect and create some problems in other regions.

However, it does not posses the addictive potential like other drugs. Users of illicit drugs mostly take Lyrica(pregabalin) to boost the effects of heroin and other opioids. In a manner similar to how it has been traditionally used therapists, pregabalin will increase euphoric effects brought about by the use of illegal drugs.

[antixsocialthoughts]

Update:

MY HAIR GOT FUCKING RAINED ON ANYWAY

Updated update:

You know what? It’s fine. I’m just gonna go make some tea and brood while I fix my hair by burning it all over again. Then I’m gonna do something else that involves minimal use of my currently waning energy. I’m running on six hours of sleep just like yesterday and all I’ve had to eat since the night before last is some peaches and a few sips of coffee, which I’ve most likely burned off from running so much in the last few days.

I’m feeling a little bit shaky so the tea probably isn’t the best idea right now — especially since green tea has a fair amount of caffeine — but I’ll at least put some sugar in it just to see if that helps at all. I haven’t been drinking as much water as I should’ve been with all this exercise and not enough food, but I’ll start drinking a little more this time around.

Also I’m not really sure if this has anything to do with the exercise or how much I’m eating or my sleep because it’s happened at totally normal times before — but I’ve gotten a little bit dizzy from standing up kinda quickly a couple times today. It’s happened even before I started doing all this unhealthy crap to lose weight, so I’m not sure what’s up with that. I don’t wanna say it feels like I might pass out, because I don’t even know that feels, but it does make me feel a little wobbly for a few seconds before it goes away. So yeah, there’s that.

[liecoris]

It was at this moment that Mukuro thought that Elizabeth Báthory was on to something。 Standing in, as well as decorated in, an amount of blood that far surpassed the amount that could be contained in two people, even after being bled completely dry。 Mukuro could feel energy swell within her, unknown if it was because of the blood that adorned her skin, or her new found ability。

This absolutely had to be a dream Mukuro assumed, after all, the other day Mukuro was just a normal human and now, Mukuro had somehow obtained the ability to kill and revive anyone, also any thing, how many times as she pleased。 Her discovery of this skill had been an accident, having unintentionally revived a bird when it passed away by hitting her window at a high speed。 Feeling sorry for the creature, Mukuro had absentmindedly wished that the bird didn’t have to die that way。 In the next moment, the bird hopped up and flew away。

At first, Mukuro pinned it as just some weird chance, maybe the bird was just dizzy from hitting the window and only had regained its senses after a short time, but when something similar happened a second time, when she was obtaining information from someone, Mukuro had the ever so brief thought of ‘ what if they died and I just was able to bring them back〜？’ Then, as soon as the person took their last breath, Mukuro had made sure that the subject was actually dead before wishing that they were brought back to life。 And before her eyes, as if time only reversed for this one individual, their wounds healed up and life was breathed back into them again。 

They seemed to have some knowledge of passing, for when they awakened from their supposedly permanent slumber, there was panic in not only their appearance but their cries and shouts。 Frantically asking Mukuro what happened and why they were still alive, swearing that they died。

Testing this new theory, Mukuro wasn’t hesitant in killing the person again and then proceeding to wish them alive again and the surprise was evident on Mukuro’s face for a moment as the person she just killed again was brought back, sniveling and crying out the information Mukuro wanted to know before pleading to either be let go or just left to their endless slumber。

As Mukuro’s mind began to race with the one thing Mukuro wanted to do now that she knew that whatever she was capable of doing was an actual power, Mukuro had to quickly scribble down the information being told to her before her current thoughts pushed the new information away。 

      Once Mukuro got the information down, she no longer heard the person babbling and crying about either continuing to live or staying dead, Mukuro’s thoughts were totally elsewhere。 Finally, taking out a tool she rarely used, Mukuro planted one bullet in the victim’s forehead before taking her leave, making sure that she contacted who she needed to in order to dispose of the corpse。  

Using her connections she’s made throughout her years in this career path, Mukuro was able to set up a meeting between her and her parents。 Under the guise that the meeting was to discuss some important business merger that would highly benefit her parent’s company。 With the meeting framed as a private place to discuss business while having a good drink, Mukuro would be the only one waiting for them when her parents would arrive。

When her parents walked in, the expressions they wore were absolutely priceless。 Expecting businessmen, her parents were met with the figure of their disowned daughter。 One who they assumed would’ve been long dead by now, having not once thought about her since her disownment。 

Perhaps assuming that she was here strictly to act as a sort of secretary for the business men they were supposed to meet, they took their seats across from her。 What they didn’t know was that not only were they going to die tonight, but it was going to be multiple, multiple times。 Either until Mukuro grew bored, or she felt satisfied with their punishment。

Regardless of which decision would be made, it would be quite some time until a final decision would be made。

Which brought her to now, standing above the once broken bodies of her parents。 The quinquagenarian and sexagenarian lay in front of her, their breathing labored as they stared up at her。 Learning that by now crying and pleading with Mukuro would only fall on deaf ears。 Mukuro stared back at them, her eyes still lit up like a kid in a toy shop as she thought of what to do next。

As much as she loved the idea of being able to telepathically lift them up and slam them against the floor over, and over, and over again, she was unable to do that, so just using various tools she brought with her to kill them, and revived them, and continue this cycle until she saw fit, would have to do for now。

Even when she’d bring back her parents, the newfound skill didn’t erase the blood and gore from the area, which resulted in Mukuro still being soaked with the blood equivalent of ten deaths on her。 Would this absolutely make it hard for Mukuro to leave this place？ Probably, she would not have brought an extra set of clothing with her along with a few towels to at least mop herself up some so that she wasn’t dripping blood on her way out。 

Her mother’s broken voice was what initially took Mukuro out of her thoughts, her gaze focusing on her as she allowed her mother to speak。 But what was said caused Mukuro to fly into more of a rage。 

「SORRY？！ NOW you’re sorry？ Oh that’s funny, unfortunately you’re a little late for April Fools don’t you think〜？」 Drawing out the first syllable, the grip Mukuro had on the baseball bat tightened once more as she swung the bat back down with a newfound strength on her Mother’s skull for the fifth time tonight。

The bat had more than enough dents in it by now, and with this recent use, had a considerable bend in it, showing that it had gotten more than enough use tonight。 Throwing down the bat with a clang, Mukuro’s sharp gaze quickly flicked over to her father, who had tears in his eyes as he, once again, watched wife die in front of him for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight。 

「Do YOU have an apology for me too？」 She asked, her father slowly shook his head, begging softly to just end his life, to just continue this sick game of hers。 With a hum, Mukuro tilted her head to the side.。。。 game, yeah this was what this was, wasn’t it？

With that new mindset in mind, with a snap of her fingers, Mukuro brought back her mother, whistled sharply to get the older lady’s attention and with a quick action rose her foot and slammed her stiletto heel into the eye socket of her father。 Her mother, who hadn’t watched her husband die before her during this night as much as he had of her, let out a wail and quickly began to plead and beg Mukuro to just stop this。

「No。 This is only the beginning of this little game〜 Now,」 as Mukuro spoke, she lifted up her foot, the heel of her shoe pulling out of the socket, gore sticking to it like some, dark viscous cherry syrup。

「What shall we play next〜？」

[wroteclassicaly]

May I Taste Your Sin

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.

A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!

Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)

Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!

~*~

He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.

You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.

You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.

“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”

The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.

Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.

Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.

What is he even doing...?

“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.

You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.

“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.

Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.

Chores now, panic later.

~*~

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.

Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.

Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.

Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.

Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.

You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.

Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.

Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?

The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.

It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.

“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.

You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”

You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.

“You’re bleeding, I know.”

Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.

“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”

When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”

It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.

“Please don’t do that.”

You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.

Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.

If I could only just lick that...

Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”

“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.

“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”

It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”

“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.

“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.

Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”

Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.

Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.

~*~

Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.

“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.

You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.

Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.

Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..

On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”

Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.

“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.

Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”

“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.

They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?

You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.

You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.

“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.

You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.

He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”

You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.

“Take down your hair, Y/N.”

Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.

“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”

“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.

“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”

A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.

“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.

Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.

His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.

Closer... He’s getting closer...

When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.

“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.

You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.

Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”

Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”

It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.

“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.

“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.

It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.

That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.

In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.

His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.

“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.

Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.

He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.

“What... Michael, who are you?”

He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”

Tag list : @littledemondani @dark-mei-rose @fckinsupreme @angelicmichael @icylangdon @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @instinctsxbaby @infernwetrust @ferndolan @9layerdevilfoodcake @bloodcoatedeclipse @wormycircumstance @antichristsxbox @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @ramona-thorns @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @codyarchives @dailylangdon @codyfernuk @langdonsjoyy @7-wonders @blakescoven @holylangdon @bitchchatter @suspiriva @taskmastter @kitty4860 @ladynuwanda @langdonsexual @sammythankyou

[elysianslove]

haikyuu boys and tropes that suit them!

includes: kageyama tobio, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tōru, sakusa kiyoomi, miya osamu, miya atsumu, suna rintarō

(possibly part 1??? consider this an apology for not posting as much 💔)

kageyama tobio — practice kissing. 

kageyama is, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit this, inexperienced, greatly so. he’s in his third year of high school, 18, and is yet to have his first kiss. college is approaching him dauntingly quick, and he doesn’t think he can handle being as clueless as he is for any longer. so while you’re sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he bluntly asks you if you’ve ever kissed someone. he seemed so confident, and the words were straightforward and lacked any sign of anxiety or uneasiness. but the moment they left his mouth, he’s red in the face and his hands are shaking. when you agree to help him practice, he’s scared, shy, flustered, and his heart is in his throat, but he lets you lead the, setting the pace yourself as you sit before him, his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. it’s electrifying, to put it to the least. he’d heard a million horror stories from his upperclassmen about first kisses, but he finds himself unable to relate. everything about the kiss and you is perfect, and he asks for more practice, starts looking forward to theses ‘sessions.’ he starts growing more and more confident, until he’s the one flustering you, the one making you gasp and squirm and mewl, not the other way around. and maybe he’ll find it in him to confess. maybe. 

iwaizumi hajime — friends to lovers. 

in general, with iwaizumi, he has a hard time believing in that he’s meant for a relationship, in that he has his own person, and for many reasons. he tries to be rational about it, saying he has other priorities at the moment, that he won’t be able to give his all, that he’s not particularly ready or in the right headspace/situation to commit to a person and a relationship. but it’s also, deep down, because of this indescribable fear of not being enough, of his flaws being too much, of being too imperfect. he just chooses not to get a headache over it, honestly. that’s why friends to lovers is perfect for him. it’s this person who he’s known for a long time, someone he’s come to know so well, so deeply, and vice versa. they’ve seen the bad and good of each other, been through all the ups and downs, learnt all their quirks, their habits, their tendencies. this is someone who is already a priority, someone who is already a constant. of course, he still hurts his head thinking about how wrong it is to have feelings for his friend, and the shame and guilt eats at him from the inside out. but it’s just so— easy. to love them. it’s so, so easy, as easy as breathing. and iwaizumi spends such a large amount of time pining and yearning that the final straw, the snap, the breathless confession, is so satisfying. 

oikawa tōru — enemies to lovers. 

oikawa wants and needs someone that’ll both keep him on his toes, always pushing him to the very edge but not completely over. he needs someone that excites him, someone that he has to work to earn. the word enemies is blurry to him. all he sees is someone playing hard to get, and he takes it as a challenge. it’s not that he wants and needs everyone to be in love with him and how dare you not be swooning at the sight of me!! it’s more that this person intrigues him impossibly. this person challenges him, bites back, and bites back hard. and the transition from enemies to lovers is so smooth with him, because it’s unpredictable and unexpected. one moment you’re swearing at him across the hall, the next you’re tenderly massaging at his injured knee and reassuring him of his hard work and efforts. it’s beautiful, really. the snarky comments and the flirty comebacks and the glares returned with playful grins, and them the moment of realization that opens up a whole new door that this person isn’t so bad after all. the satisfaction of finally giving in, either so slowly, so carefully and timidly, or rushed, hurried and desperate. so good. 

sakusa kiyoomi — there was only one bed! 

sakusa does not share. it’s nothing personal (sometimes it is), but he just prefers to have his own private space, where he can be comfortable. but things happen! like a trip where you’re stuck in the same room! and there’s only one bed! and the person you’re stuck with is the same person you’re very confused in regards to your feelings about them! the trip is a couple of days, and so it starts with the offer to sleep on the couch. it’s very uncomfortable, but he does it anyways, because a) he’s a gentleman, and b) you both now each have your private, safe space. two days pass, and you both tiredly pass out on the bed next to one another. he wakes up before you in horror and falls onto the couch quickly, but he doesn’t fall asleep again. as if this were fate’s play, you find yourself unable to sleep, and neither can he, so you quietly scoot over, a silent invitation. reluctantly, he accepts. he doesn’t spend that night sleeping either, instead simply stares at you, his hand outreaching for you, but not quite touching. eventually comes a day when he wakes up with your face buried in his shoulder, and although his cheeks are as warm as ever, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. he only feels grateful to be finally touching you. 

miya osamu — soft only for their lover. 

it’s not that osamu is rude to others, or hates everyone else, or anything along those lines. it’s more that he’s less likely to open up, be vulnerable, be softer, easier than compared to with his partner. with his lover, he smiles easier, expressions are readable, his eyes always a dead giveaway to what’s on his mind. he’s colder and less approachable to others, but it’s almost as if his resolve melts the moment he spots his lover. he could be yelling at someone, angrily, then turn to his partner and in the softest voice say, “just a moment, my love,” and go back to yelling as if it were completely normal. similarly, he will always take his lover’s side of the argument regardless of whether they’re right or wrong. and, he’ll be kissing his lover, but pause for a moment to deck his brother, then return to kissing his lover again even softer. it’s because his lover owns such a big part of his heart, and when osamu loves, he loves with every part of him. he’s been called out on it multiple times; the fact that he’s so much meaner and harsher and stubborn with everyone else, including his brother, but it’s always the opposite with you. you are his soft spot, really, and it tickles your tummy whenever you notice the little changes and shifts in his attitude and personality when it comes to you. 

miya atsumu — enemies to lovers. 

unlike with oikawa’s case, you and atsumu genuinely hate each other. you despise his attitude, his cockiness, his ideals, his approaches, his voice, his hair, everything, and likewise, he can’t stand you. he’d only ever been rude to you, and in response, you’d defended yourself by being equally as rude. this isn’t playing hard to get enemies, this is i hate your guts enemies. rarely does being in a room with him not result in some sort of argument. your mutual friends are all fed up, of the arguments, the fighting, the smack talk behind one another’s backs, the complaining, everything. it’s infuriating, and so they beg you to talk it out, to try and resolve whatever it was going on between you, but either he wouldn’t cooperate, or you wouldn’t. it seemed hopeless, until at some point in time, you get badly hurt, maybe mentally or physically, but atsumu finds himself worried unbelievably. it’s irrational to be, especially with your history with one another. but he’s worried, insanely so, and when he finds you, finds out you’re okay, or you will be, the relief that fills him is dizzying and so, scary. but maybe the both of you were just projecting onto each other, the fact that you so badly wanted each other but felt like you couldn’t do anything. 

suna rintarō — brother’s best friend. 

it’s a dash of forbidden love, a dash of friends to lovers. he’s your brother’s best friend, older than you, and it’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t help it. on the days he’s invited over, you purposely make sure to stay at home, and you make excuses to pass by your brother’s room constantly, to talk to him. he knows you like him, knows you’re desperately chasing after him in your own subtle way, and for a while, suna lets you. he acts dumb, none the wiser, lets you have your little fun of sneaking snaps of him to send to your friends and when you purposely press your leg against his sitting next to him on the couch or when you offer your lollipop after you suck on it. he indulges you, slightly, subtly. and when he sees it suitable, finds it right, he starts to return the advances: he accidentally arrives a little earlier than planned to your home when he’s invited, and he passed by you in school more often, and he makes up excuses to text you all the time. eventually, the sexual tension is unbearable, suffocating, incredibly overwhelming, and when it snaps, nothing else matters. just the two of you. he’s experienced, good with his words and his hands and his mouth and he’s a dream. and all you do is fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper. 

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

[engie-ivy]

Yes, he's in the hospital and doesn't remember anything about himself, but it's actually not that bad. His memories are sure to come back in a matter of days, and until then, he can spend time eating, sleeping, reading, daydreaming about that ridiculously attractive Healer...

(The aim is Funny and Fluffy Wolfstar)

It's Like the First Time

“Everything seems to be in order,” the Healer Trainee, Aubrey, says. “As we expected. How’s the dizziness?”

“When I’m laying down, it doesn’t bother me,” he replies.

“That’s good,” Aubrey smiles. “The dizziness and light-headedness should gradually disappear over the upcoming days, and then the memories will come back after.”

He nods. He’d be more worried about all his memories being gone if the Healers at St Mungo’s weren’t so certain they’ll all come back in a matter of days. Dizziness, light-headedness, and amnesia; it’s a familiar picture when being hit with a Confundo-charm from a defective wand, which the Healers have encountered many times before and has apparently happened to him during some friendly duelling.

It’s always the same picture: the dizziness and light-headedness slowly lessening, and the memories all coming back at once after two to at most five days. Like, one moment you know nothing, and the next you remember everything.

Well, he doesn’t exactly know nothing. His semantic memory is intact, meaning he has basic knowledge and remembers facts and skills. He knows he’s a wizard, he knows the hospital is called St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he knows the people in the lime green robes are the Healers, he knows that since he’s a wizard he probably went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he knows perfectly well how to perform a wide variety of charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. (So luckily those years at Hogwarts weren’t for nothing)

What he doesn’t know is anything about himself. His episodic memory, memory for any kind of life events, is completely gone. Who he is, what he does, what he has done, who he knows, it’s all gone. His own mum could walk into the room, and he’d think she was the laundry lady. (Luckily, she seemed like a very nice lady, and had thought it rather funny)

The only thing he knows about himself, not because he remembers, but because it’s the only thing they told him, is that he’s someone named Remus Lupin. Apparently, in the past, trying to fill in the gaps has proven to be more frustrated than helpful for the patient and, as the memories will come back on their own anyway, quite unnecessary. Therefore, they don’t tell him much else, and all he can do is wait.

Past experience has also shown that the patient often finds it quite stressful, and even frightening, to be surrounded by lots of people who all know him, and whom he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. Therefore, friends and family are only allowed in limited numbers, one new person a day, which started with his mum.

His mum had brought him his favourite novel, saying that he read it so many times, and would always wish he could erase it from his memory just so he could read it again with the same sense of anticipation. Well, she had figured this was his chance. Now, all he can do is lie in bed, read his book, and eat food, which is... Well, pretty great actually.

He doesn’t have anything to worry about. How can he worry about anything if he doesn’t remember anything? It’s like having a little break from life and all its expectations and responsibilities. (Though the fact that he’s so happy about having no worries, makes him think that this Remus Lupin normally worries quite a lot)

When a Healer comes to see him, he suddenly knows something else about himself: he’s very, very gay.

The Healer has a classic, aristocratic beauty to him, with his sharp cheekbones and full lips, and his eyes are of a clear grey, that appears silver, which contrasts quite nicely with the strands of raven black hair that have fallen from the messy bun on top of his head. And no one has the right to look that good in lime green robes, which he fills out pretty well with his lean, muscular body.

The Healer gives him a soft smile, and really, if he smiles at all his patients like that, the whole hospital must be diagnosed with palpitations. “How’re you feeling?” the Healer asks in a warm, deep voice.

He wonders whether his semantic memory has failed him after all, as he suddenly seems to have forgotten how speaking works. “Erm...” he says, very eloquently.

The Healer frowns, and looks at Aubrey. “Isn’t the confusion supposed to be gone by now?”

Aubrey looks from the Healer to him and back to the Healer, while a knowing smile appears on her face. “Don’t worry,” she tells the Healer. “He has been perfectly responsive and coherent all day.”

“Has he had some Anti-Confusion Concoction?”

“He’s had a small dose, as the confusion was already wearing off on his own.”

“Are you going to give him Memory Potion?” the Healer continues his questioning.

Aubrey shakes her head. “We have already given him Mandrake Restorative Draught against the spell’s physical effects. Adding Memory Potion might make the dose of Stewed Mandrake too high. As we can be certain all memories will come back on their own, it isn’t worth the risk.”

The Healer nods thoughtfully. “So only a daily dose of Restoration Potion until all effects have subsided, I assume?”

“Yes,” Aubrey agrees. “Based on past experience, that’ll in all likeliness be sufficient.”

The Healer turns his head back to him, and that soft smile is back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, a bright flash can be seen, and a gazelle made out of shining white light is standing in front of them.

“I’m so sorry to disturb on a moment like this,” a stressed-sounding voice of a young woman comes from the Patronus, that is directing itself to the Healer. “But you’re needed back at the HADA department immediately! We’re having an emergency.”

The Healer curses under his breath. He takes a step towards the door, but then stops to look back at him with a pained expression.

“He’s in good hands,” Aubrey says.

The Healer nods. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells him, before hurrying out the door.

Though his mum was right, and the novel is really good, he has trouble focusing on it from that moment on. He’s constantly interrupted by thoughts of bright, silver-grey eyes. Merlin, he’s seen the guy once, and he’s acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush!

Telling himself off for it doesn’t stop him from looking up hopefully the moment he catches a glimpse of lime-green robes. It’s quite a disappointment when the Healer that walks in to check his vitals is a greying, grumpy man with a face that seems to be twisted in a permanent scowl. Asking him where the good-looking Healer went to seems kind of impolite though, so he just sits and nods whenever the Healer grumbles something unintelligible.

“So, why have I gotten a different Healer?” he asks Aubrey later, trying to sound casual.

“Different Healer?” she asks, not understanding.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling to his great annoyance that his cheeks begin to flush. “There was this older man checking up on me, while before, there was the young man with the broad shoulder, shining dark hair, sweet smile, pretty eyes...” He trails off.

“Oh!” Understanding, and a not insignificant amount of amusement, appear on Aubrey’s face. “Oh, he wasn’t not your Healer, sweetie! He was visiting.”

“Ah,” he sighs disappointedly. So the Healer had only been here for some sort of second opinion, and he probably won’t be back. It was too good to be true, to have a Healer like that around as a nice distraction.

“Healer Black works for the Healing Against the Dark Arts Department,” Aubrey continues.

“You know him?” he asks.

“I know of him. But honestly,” she adds with a wink. “Everyone working at St Mungo’s knows of Healer Black!”

He chuckles. “I suppose he cannot not catch your eye.”

“It’s not just his appearance,” Aubrey says. “Healer Black is the leading expert on healing Dark Arts-related injuries and combating curses from the Dark Arts. He has invented novel Healing Spells and revolutionized the protocol for treating curses. Healers from all over the world consult him on their cases, and patients come to see him from all over the world.”

“Wow...” he sighs again, but this time it’s a more wistful sigh. He doesn’t even care anymore that he sounds like a love-struck teenager. Maybe Aubrey will write it off as a side-effect of the Confundo-charm. He briefly wonders about that himself, but as those bright, silver-grey eyes come to mind again, he knows he’s under a whole different kind of spell.

“Yeah,” Aubrey smiles. “He’s quite a remarkable man.”

“So I guess I won’t be seeing him again then,” he says dejectedly, letting his head hang. He wonders why they’d sent that Healer to come see him in the first place, as he surely must’ve had better things to do.

He hears a choked noise besides him, and he looks up at Aubrey, who seems to be stifling a laugh, with her hand pressed against her mouth. “Don’t worry, love,” she says with obvious amusement in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him.”

The young man sitting next to his bed has been talking about his wife and their baby for an hour straight. Though it really isn’t so bad. His stories are quite amusing, and the man is very charismatic. He has sparkling eyes, and hair so messy, he had immediately checked whether it wasn’t storming outside when the man had entered. He has a disarming smile and a contagious laugh, and is surprisingly easy to talk to. He says his name is James Potter, and he’s Remus Lupin’s best friend.

He has to give Remus Lupin a pat on the back for having made such a nice friend. Honestly, the idea of socializing with new people, trying to make friends, does not appeal to him, and he’s glad to know Remus already has them.

“And I just went to see Sirius,” James says. “Well, more like I was speed walking next to him in the two minutes he had to get from one room to another. He still managed to apologize twenty times though. Normally, I’d say he should be sorry, but the poor guy seems to hardly have any time to eat or sleep.” James shakes his head. “Did you hear what happened? Three children were playing in the woods, and they must’ve accidentally touched an unknown cursed object. They were brought in barely conscious and with a mother completely beside herself. So of course, ‘the widely renowned and highly acclaimed, capable-of-the-impossible Healer Black’ was the only one who might save them. And he has, as they seem to be recovering,” James adds, relieved. “But really, there aren’t many excuses that would justify him not being here, but having to save children’s lives is definitely one of them.”

“Thank Merlin those children are alright. That sounds- Wait,” he says, before sitting up. “Healer Black? You know Healer Black?”

James blinks at him. “Ehm... Yeah?”

“Merlin, that man is so handsome!” he exclaims. “He was here for like two minutes, before he got called away to other patients, but I just can’t stop thinking about him! He already looks perfect, and now you’re telling me that he’s some kind of miracle Healer saving children’s lives?” He sighs. “It’s just not fair.”

At first, James still looks confused. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and his mouth starts twitching like he’s trying to hold back laughter.

He doesn’t blame him. He’d laugh at himself too, with how ridiculous he’s been acting over this random Healer. He just hopes he won’t have embarrassed Remus Lupin too much once his memories have returned.

“Don’t worry,” James says, in an amused voice. “Healer Black will come back as soon as he has the time.”

Now, his own eyes widen. “You really think he’d come to see me again?”

James lets out a strangled noise and starts coughing, which he strongly suspects being a laugh quickly covered up by a cough. “Yes,” James replies, suppressed laughter still sounding through in his voice. “I really think so.”

He knows it’s rather pathetic, but as he’s got nothing better to do, he did it anyway. He practiced what he’s going to say to Healer Black when, or if, he comes back.

He’ll tilt his head slightly downwards, so he’ll look up at the man through his lashes, and then he’ll give him a coy smile, while softly saying ‘Healer Black. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve heard many great things about you, and what you did for those children is truly admirable.’ Luckily, flirting seems to fall under semantic memory.

However, when the moment comes that Healer Black enters the room again, his carefully constructed plan falls apart.

At first, he’s stunned that yes, Healer Black really looks like that, and he hasn’t made it better in his head. Alright, the man has bags under his eyes, his robes are rumpled, and his hair is slightly greasy and so much strands are peaking out of his bun, making it look more messy than what would qualify as a normal messy bun, but he still looks like the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t even notice Aubrey and James walk in after Healer Black.

He opens his mouth to deliver his carefully practiced lines, but the words die in his throat as Healer Black... Well, flings himself at him. He literally splays out on top of him, hugging him close and pressing his face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you so much,” Healer Black murmurs against his skin.

He freezes. Yes, he has forgotten quite a lot, but he’s still pretty sure this is not the standard operating procedure for Healers to greet their patients. “Erm...” He says, once again ever so eloquently.

Healer Black lifts his head and looks up at him in confusion, but he can’t possibly be more confused than he’s feeling.

James scrapes his throat. “Remus, may I introduce you to Healer Sirius Black-Lupin, your husband?”

“So neither one of you decided to tell him?” Healer Black has crossed his arms over his chest and is glaring at Audrey and James.

“I’m sorry, Healer Black!” Aubrey squeaks. “I know I should’ve told him, but it was just too cute, watch him be all smitten with his own husband.”

He isn’t really listening. He’s openly staring at Healer Black. Apparently, he bloody married the guy, so it’s allowed, right?

“I don’t know how you pulled this off, Remus Lupin,” he whispers under his breath. “But thank you, and kudos to you, mate, kudos to you.”

As he looks at Healer Black up and down (at some point he’ll really have to stop referring to his husband as Healer Black, probably), he suddenly really wishes for his memories to come back fast, as there are some things he’d really like to remember.

Though on the other hand, he thinks, biting his lip, maybe ‘Healer Black’ won’t mind freshening up his memory in the meantime?

“Ugh,” Remus groans, hiding his face against Sirius’ chest. “I can’t believe I was practically drooling over you!”

Sirius chuckles while he’s rubbing soft circles on Remus’ back. “You were cute.”

As a reply, Remus just groans again.

“I’m sorry, though,” Sirius says, suddenly quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been by your side as I was supposed to be.”

Remus lifts up his head to look at Sirius. “Hey, none of that! You were saving lives.” He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to be anywhere else.”

Sirius smiles softly at him, and Remus lays his head back on his chest. “Besides, it was a good reminder that I should be more proud of my accomplishment to get Healer Black to marry me.”

Sirius barks a laugh, that Remus can feel vibrating in his chest. “And how exactly was me down on one knee practically begging you to become my husband ‘you getting me to marry you’?”

Remus smiles fondly, happy that that memory is safely back in his head. “And it was nice to feel like having a new crush again,” he continues. “ All exhilarated, enraptured, and in awe.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Remus’ head. “I feel like that every time I look at you.”