#and even if the towel wiped you clean of the worst of the water you now to wash the now dirty towel

[teamatsumu]

do you? i do. (akaashi keiji x reader)

summary: you lose a bet, so now you have to confess to your crush. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1461

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @keiva1000 @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @kindnessspreads

event masterlist

Turns out, promising to do ‘anything you want’ wasn’t something Konoha Akinori took lightly. Especially not when you add Bokuto Koutaro to the mix. Konoha was a sly opportunist, while Bokuto wasn’t embarrassed by anything, so it was a deadly combination.

You didn’t know why you let yourself be talked into making a stupid, silly bet with the two boys. Konoha had a talent to goad, and he managed to successfully goad you. So when you lost the bet (really, why did you think having a physical competition with two volleyball players was a good idea), it was like Konoha had his winning prize ready. The request fell from his lips like he had been practicing it for days.

Which he probably had. The menace.

So here you were, hands shaking violently as you put away water bottles and towels, cleaning up the club room and taking all the time in the world to change back into your uniform. The other managers had offered to wait for you so you could walk home together, but you encouraged them to go on, saying you had some stuff to organize before you left so it would take time. You didn’t need them to stick around to see you horrifically embarrass yourself when you confessed your silly crush and got rejected. Already Konoha was making all the boys stay behind to witness the moment. You couldn’t bear to have your closest friends see it too.

You locked the club room behind yourself before slowly and painfully making your way to the gym. You could hear the thuds of volleyballs and squeaks of shoes as the boys noisily cleaned up. They were talking and laughing amongst themselves, and you felt your nerves tighten even more. This was the worst possible place and time to confess. The chances of public humiliation were sky high. But Konoha had made his demands clear. And you weren’t one to go back on your word, no matter how dire the consequences.

You smoothed your skirt when you reached the gym doors, standing in the doorway and watching the scene before you. Despite the net slowly being lowered, Bokuto was still bounding towards it.

“Akaashi, go again!”

The boy in question was already in position, setting the ball high towards Bokuto, who spiked it hard over the half-up net. Washio was yelling at them to stop and it was enough for the day.

You watched Akaashi wipe the sweat off his forehead and kneel to tie his shoe, breathing slightly labored from the exertion. Your feet remained frozen, eyeing him silently and dreading how your relationship with him was about to change forever. While Akaashi wasn’t someone who harbored ill feelings, you weren’t sure how he was going to react to a love confession and subsequent rejection. What guarantee did you have that this wouldn’t affect your friendship going forward?

“Oi, look who’s here!” Konoha’s voice was filled with glee, and all eyes turned to look at you when he pointed at the door. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and deck him across the face. Violence was not the answer.

“Do you have something to say?”

Okay, maybe violence was the answer.

You gave him a large, fake grin, before nodding jerkily. You could feel the edge of your face and your ears turn burning hot, hands already going clammy as you tried to clench and unclench them.

“Akaashi-san, may I talk to you in private?”

Akaashi seemed surprised, blinking twice before nodding and standing up to walk towards you. No one else was caught off guard, of course, grinning faces looking between you two, knowing what was about to happen. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to do this in front of the entire volleyball team. But a bet was a bet. You had brought this upon yourself.

Whenever you had lain in bed and fantasized about confessing to Akaashi, you had pictured just you and him. Either outside the gym, or in the school grounds, nice cool air blowing through your clothes and hair. You had imagined how he would smile and return your feelings, which was a long shot but anything was possible in your imagination.

Akaashi was…. dignified. Organized. He was crazy smart, perceptive to a fault. It was almost impossible to not like him. Two years since you had started managing the Fukurodani team, and your crush on him had only grown. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. And he was leagues above you in every sense.

That was the reason you had always believed Akaashi couldn’t return your feelings.

He stepped out behind you, following you only a few steps away from the gym doors. Konoha had explicitly said that you had to stay within earshot. A childish, immature request but part of the bet reward, so you couldn’t exactly refuse. You turned back to the boy, unable to meet his eyes and instead staring at your own hands as you fiddled with your fingers. You had rehearsed in your head over and over how you would take Akaashi’s rejection, what you would say, how would you tell him it wasn’t a big deal and you didn’t expect him to return your feelings. That you hoped you could still be friends. But now, standing before him, you realized you hadn’t really thought about the actual confession. You were completely blank.

“Is everything okay?” Akaashi’s voice was laced with concern, and he tilted his head a bit to catch your eye. You stared at him for a good minute before blinking and vigorously nodding.

“Yes! Completely fine. I’m fine.”

Embarrassment was already beginning to crawl up on you. There was a bout of silence. Behind Akaashi, you caught sight of multiple heads peeking through the window. You felt annoyance build up in you.

“Screw this,” you mumbled. “Akaashi-san, I like you. A lot. Not as a friend. And I was never going to tell you, but I lost a bet to Konoha and he thought this would be the perfect way to humiliate me. By making me confess. So….. here I am. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

Akaashi watched you unblinkingly for a few moments. You glanced at Konoha who was scowling, probably because you name dropped him. But that wasn’t one of his conditions, so you didn’t care. You felt a twinge of satisfaction at having bested him even in your current circumstance. Good. He deserved to feel even a fraction of the anxiety and embarrassment you were feeling right now.

“Why would that humiliate you?” Akaashi finally spoke.

Your eyes met his dark ones, and you felt yourself freeze. Of all the questions you thought he would ask, this was not one you were prepared for.

“Uh-” You tried to come up with an answer that didn’t sound equally as embarrassing as the confession. Because you will reject me and they will all witness it?

Akaashi sighed and toed at the ground a bit, mouth pursed in thought. You stared at him wide eyed, waiting for him to speak. To say something. Follow up on his unusual question.

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined this moment to go.” He muttered, and you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t already looking at him. Your breath hitched, eyes so wide you were sure they would pop out of your skull. You tried to process the sentence, tried to think of any reason he would say that without getting your hopes up.

Akaashi peered around, as if searching for something, looking left and right before he finally caught the floating heads behind him. There was a yelp as they disappeared from the window suddenly, followed by thudding and a curse. You bit back your laughter. Akaashi rolled his eyes.

“I would like to talk about this more. Where others can’t see us.” His voice was as calm and quiet as ever. You felt your heart race. Your limbs felt jittery. Did this mean….?

“Akaashi-san, do you-”

A smile that made your heart leap. “I do.”

You felt a smile stretch over your face, feeling giddy at the thought of something you had considered so impossible materializing in front of your very eyes. You could still hear faint bickering from the gym, and you were sure Konoha had not seen this coming. Somehow, he was the least of your concerns now, in the face of Akaashi’s quiet smile and the way he was leaning towards you. You leaned forward too, realizing you had never been this close to him before. You basked in the moment.

In ten million years you could not have wished for a better outcome.

[yelenasdiary]

Bed for Three

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda comes home to find you and the twins cuddled in bed, sick. 

Fluff | Comfort | No Warnings | 1.4K

AC: Another late-night idea that I had! Also, sending get well wishes @mywitchy-assassin ! I hope you feel better soon, my love x

"Honey, I'm off to work" Wanda whispered softly as she placed a kiss on your forehead. Wanda hated waking you up, but she also didn't want you to wake up in a worry. "Have a good day, baby" you mumbled as you snuggled into the covers, you'd have at least another hour of sleep before you'd have to get up and start getting the twins ready for school. 

Wanda smiled softly at you, soaking up the last image she'd see of you until she came home. Mission reports and plenty of Avengers meetings were booked today and Wanda wanted to be at the compound early to get the reports out of the way. 

Your alarm was always the worst sound in the world to you, shut it off you sat up and stretched your tired body out before stepping into the bathroom to prepare yourself for a tough morning. The twins loved school, they got to see their friends of course, but getting them up at 7am was always a struggle. You'd take a quick shower before making sure their breakfast was on the table ready. 

"Boys, it's 7" you spoke softly as you opened their door, straight away you could hear in their voices there was no way they would be going to school. "Ma, I don't feel so well" Billy pulled the covers over his head while Tommy agreed, "my head really hurts" He spoke softly as if even the sound of his voice was making his headache worse. "Oh no" you said to yourself as you walked over to Tommy and gently placed a hand on his forehead, "you're a bit warm honey" you added. 

"I think I'm going to be sick!" Billy jumped out of bed in a rush to the bathroom. Your mother instincts kicked in as you quickly followed him. Luckily for you he made it to the toilet before throwing up last night's dinner and ice cream, you grabbed a clean hand towel and soaked it with warm water before handing it to Billy to wipe his mouth. "I think you boys are staying home today" you pressed your lips together before helping Billy back to bed. 

"Can we sleep in your bed please Mama?" Billy asked, his tired and weak tone made your heart break. You hated seeing your boys unwell. "Of course, my loves, come on. I'll make some tea and get you a bucket" you replied, both boys slowly got out of bed and made their way to your shared room with Wanda and made themselves comfortable as you placed a bucky and towel on Billy's side of the bed then made your way downstairs to make some tea. 

Water and light food for Billy, pain killers, fruit and honey lemon tea for Tommy should do the fix you thought, well, you hoped. Wanda was always better at this stuff than you were, she knew exactly which foods to cook to make sure you and the boys got all the goodness you needed to keep your body from feeling any worse. As much as you wanted to call her, you knew she was in for a busy day and that meant this mission was all yours to handle. 

The day was spent in bed with your boys as they both rested their heads on your shoulders while the three of you watched movies on Disney +. The boys fought over which movie to put on only to be reminded that if they could fight over movies, maybe they weren't too sick after all. For lunch it was light foods for Billy to nibble at, Tommy had some fruit and a sandwich before taking a cold and flu tablet when he started to complain about having a sore throat and his headache not getting any better. 

By the time Wanda got home you and the boys were fast asleep with the last movie the boys picked playing in the background as the end credits rolled. Wanda noticed the house was rather too quiet for a family of three to be home. The boy's backpacks weren't thrown on the sofa like normal, their shoes weren't in random places on the floor in the living room and their home wasn't sat on the dining table waiting for you and Wanda to help them. 

She wandered upstairs and followed the sound of low music coming from the bedroom, the soft smile on her face when she saw her wife and two children snuggled up in bed, tissues littered the bedside table next to Tommy while the bucket next to Billy sat clean. "My loves" Wanda shook her head softly as she turned the TV off and closed the door quietly behind her. 

The smell of food cooking downstairs woke you with hunger, your head now pounding with a headache and the boys still asleep beside you. One look at Tommy's red nose and cheeks and you knew that you'd caught whatever bug he had, you only hoped that you wouldn't also catch Billy's stomach bug. Carefully, you managed to slide out of bed without waking your boys and made your way downstairs where Wanda was in an element of cooking and singing softly to herself. 

"You're home" you spoked softly, now realizing your throat was itchy and dry. "Hi honey, you don't sound so good, go lay down on the sofa. Dinner is almost ready, pumpkin soup for the three of you" she smiled as she looked over at you. "The boys, they're not well. I don't know what Billy has but I think Tommy is coming down with a cold or flu" you explained with a pout, "I gave Tommy a cold and flu tablet and made sure Billy had light food, toast and water but I think I'm catching Tommy's bug" you added as you reached for the painkillers for your headache. 

"You should've called me darling, I would've come home" 

"I know but you said you had a lot to do today, and I didn't want to bother you" you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and downed the two tablets. 

"Next time, bother me, okay? Now go back to bed or lay down on the sofa. I'm home now, I'll take care of yous" Wanda replied as she stirred the pot of soup. 

----

After dinner, Wanda put the boys to bed and made sure they were warm and had plenty of water to drink throughout the night, the twins completely worn out only confirmed with Wanda how sick they felt. "My poor loves, get some rest if you both still feel like this by morning, we'll make an appointment with the doctor" she kissed Billy on the forehead as she tucked him in. "I think we made Ma sick too" Tommy commented as Wanda made her way over to him, "I think you did" she chuckled, "we'll book an appointment for Ma too" she added with a kiss on Tommy's head. "Goodnight mom" the twins said in sync as Wanda made her way to the door, "goodnight boys" she smiled before flicking off their lights and closing the door over. 

"I just told the boys that we'll see the doctor tomorrow if they don't feel any better but morning, that includes you" Wanda smiled softly as she entered the bedroom where you were already snuggled and waiting for her, "I'm totally fine" you joked but your voice breaking wasn't convincing Wanda as she shook her head playfully at you. 

"I might take the guest room tonight; I don't think I want whatever you and boys have" 

"What? No" you pouted, "please stay, please give me cuddles, I promise I won't get you sick" you added with your best impression of puppy eyes. They always won Wanda over, she caved in and slid right in beside you. "If I get sick, don't cook for me" she chuckled as she wrapped her arms around you, "why's that?" you asked. 

"Honey, I love you so much but your cooking isn't that good and I feel it would only make me feel worse" Wanda replied with another chuckle before placing a kiss on your cheek, "fine then" you huffed playfully, "the boys and I will just order pizza" you added. 

"Goodnight honey" Wanda playfully rolled her eyes, "goodnight baby". 

A week later Wanda woke up with a pounding headache and a quick dash to the bathroom before making her way downstairs, looking between you and the twins with her arms crossed. "Oh no, you're not!" you said as you looked over at her while she nodded, "I'll call the doctor" You tried not to chuckle at your wife's unimpressed look.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz  | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @wandsmxmff | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @lizzieslcver | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 4

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There's a hammering on the door. You ignore it as you spit up your guts into the porcelain. You've been hugging the bowl all morning, even with nothing left to spit up, the bile rises and burns its way out.

You puff and lift your head shakily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lloyd calls your name, an unusual address that has you rigid. What the fuck is his problem? Not like he's sitting here fighting a chest burster.

"Go away," you groan and pound on the wood.

Silence. You face the toilet again and flush, breathing slowly as another sheen of saliva gathers on your tongue. You just want it to stop.

The door quakes as the sudden bang makes your yelp. Just a abruptly, your heaving, body contracting painfully as chaos shakes the door. The handle falls free, dangling from its screws as Lloyd kicks his way in and you glance over as you pant deeply.

"What the hell do you want–"

You don't have time to react as he stomps towards you and pulls you off your knees. You barely get your feet under you as he pulls you up and holds up the paper in his other fist. He shoves you against the counter and you cover your mouth dizzily.

"Jeez, I'm in here puk–"

"Shut up!" He snarls, "you said you'd sign. Last week!"

"Okay, okay, I just haven't had–"

"You have time," he slams the papers down on the marble, "so, Mrs. Hansen, cut the fucking cord–"

"What is your problem?" You touch your throat, "you couldn't wait."

"I've been waiting," he pulls a pen out of his shirt pocket, "so come on. Right now."

You stare at it and take it slowly. His sudden change has you even more unsettled than the stirring in your stomach. You click it and turn, hand trembling as you stare at the names set in bold font.

Colin Shea, just beside yours. His signature is already there. You've been like this every day, hand perched and ready but you just can't do it.

"What's the fucking hold up?" He plants his hand on the counter and looms over you, "we got a wedding in two weeks."

"Lloyd," you snip and sigh. You close your eyes and scribble across the line. "Fuck off." You swipe up the contract and push it against his chest, "now if you don't mind–"

You spin back to the sink and grasp the sides as you retch again, bending as all that comes up in acidic and slimy. The papers crinkle and he exhales, making no move to leave. His hand rests on your back and he rubs it soothingly. The gesture only enrages you.

You pop your head up and push his arm away, "don't fucking touch me."

"Babe, I–"

"You got what you want. Like you always do," you bark, "now please, leave me the fuck alone." You shake your head as you glare into the sink, "must be pleased with yourself."

"Peaches," he drawls darkly.

"Look what you've done. I fucking hate this."

He's quiet. He reaches to twist on the faucet, "get yourself cleaned up. Lay down or some shit, I don't know."

"Get the fuck out," you put your hands under the flow, "fucking asshole. One after the other. Fucking fuckers."

"Watch yourself–"

"What are you gonna do?" You retort, "huh? I'm already fucking miserable and even you can't make it worse."

He growls as you splash water over your face and cup it in your hands to rinse your mouth out. You spit it out as he slaps your ass hard. You throw your arm out to keep from hitting the wall.

"Lucky I'm not rinsing that fucking mouth out," he squeezes your meanly, "if I didn't already have you knocked up…"

You ignore him and right yourself, shaking the water off and grabbing the hand towel. You dry your face and as he backs away. He leaves you, slamming the broken door in his stead.

In a moment, your adrenaline drains and your anger follows quickly. You're suddenly drained. This is going to be a long pregnancy and it won't even be over after that.

💎

You spend the rest of the day in bed. You just want to sleep but you're too queasy to. You can't focus on the dumbass book you can't follow. You toss and turn in agitation until the growling in your stomach turns ravenous.

On top of that, your moods are wild. One moment, you're distraught over your plight and all that brought you here. The next, you're livid about the bathroom and Lloyd's dumbassery. Then you're about to cry because of some random thought.

You get up, a twinge in your hips. That old ache making itself known as the tension and hormones mingle in the perfect storm of misery. You go down to the kitchen, listening along the way for any sign of your all-too-charming warden.

He's nowhere to be found but you're less than disappointed by the revelation. You go to the fridge and open the door, the suck of the seal loud in the silent house. You lean forward, scouring the shelves for something delicious.

Organic seaweed smoothie and oh, yum, raw liver. What the hell? A veggie medley that entails too much work for your current hankering.

You grimace and shut the fridge. You could be sworn–

You stop short as you spot the empty jar beside the sink. Oh, great. The pickle spears are all gone and they were the expensive kind with the extra zest. The ones you never bought for yourself but indulged in as your sole source of comfort in this prison.

You grab the jar and sob. You could smash it to bits. Of course he ate them all. He had to have this and not his stupid pigeon eggs with the weird spots. Ughhhhhh.

"Problem, baby face?" Lloyd's voice makes you growl as you clutch the jar and turn to him.

"You ate all the pickles."

"There was like two left, I made a sandwich and–"

"You made a sandwich? What kind?"

"Um, turkey–"

"Turkey and pickle?" You nearly salivate as your stomach roars.

"Well, you didn't seem very hungry. Besides you can't have coldcuts--"

"Like you would even think to offer," you snarl, "fuck!"

You turn and slam down the jar. You really want a pickle or anything crunchy. You could eat his mustache at this point.

"I'll order some more–"

"But I'm hungry right now," you sneer as the fury sparks in your brain, "and all you have is organic nonsense that tastes like grass."

He stares at you, forehead wrinkled, "look, if this is about the papers, it had to be done–"

"I'm fucking starving," you stomp towards him, "I need food. Real food."

"Alright," he keeps you from grabbing him by his collar, "what do you want? I'll order something."

You narrow your eyes, "you will?"

"Yeah, I mean, you just gotta ask," he says as if it's obvious, "there's a steakhouse that delivers–"

"I want pizza, double cheese," you cut him short, "extra mushroom, ummmm, chicken, and… olives. Lots of olive. Oh, I know a place. They do deep fried pickles."

"Deep fried pickles?"

"Mr. Hoity Toity never had a bread pickle, yes. Deep fried."

"That's not exactly healthy," he says.

You rip your hands free and grab his shirt, "what? What did you just say?"

"No, I just mean, it wasn't on the list–"

"Not healthy? Not healthy?! You know what's not healthy, this thing you put inside me is gonna tear my vagina right up to my ass. I read about it. So don't tell me about healthy, sir, don't fucking do it."

"Alright, calm down," he puts his hands over yours, "I didn't think you'd take the divorce thing so hard–"

"Shut the fuck up. Shut up and order me pizza. Now." You tears your hands away and march angrily around the kitchen, "the baby is hungry."

You touch your stomach for effect and he squares his jaw. He watches you, as if weighing his options. For a minute you think he might say no.

He huffs and takes out his phone, "fine, what's this place called?"

[kiddbegins]

Sick Days - Will Halstead

Requested: yes

Word count: 564

Warnings: just sick time

A/n: this is short but will would 100% be annoying about being sick

Masterlist

“Either go to bed and get some rest willingly, or I will drag your ass down the hall kicking and screaming. You know I’ll have no problem with either option.”

You hated being sick. It was the fucking worst thing that could ever happen to you personally. Sneezing, coughing, hard to breathe, not to mention the soreness in the back of your throat if you took in too much of a breath. It sucked.

That was bad enough alone. But it was amplified by a hundred when your caring boyfriend decided to bring his job home. Yes he was a doctor but you appreciated it more when he didn’t treat you like another one of his patients.

Which is exactly what he did. The first sound of a sniffle and he was forcing you to take vitamins within the next ten minutes. So you’d learned to at least try and hide your illnesses until you couldn’t anymore. You’d done good the last couple of days, orange juice and Dayquill being your best friends.

But it was catching up, today you were groggy, barely shuffling around the kitchen as you attempted to clean up before Will got home from his overnight. The throbbing in your head made things a bit shaky as you emptied the dishwasher and wiped the counters.

All while sucking on a cough drop that wasn’t doing much of anything but tasting decently good as you ate it. You didn’t even hear the front door open, too busy leaning your forehead against the front of the metal fridge, enjoying the coolness it gave off.

“Baby what are you doing?” Will’s voice made you jump, turning slowly. “Whoa, are you okay? You look a little pale.” He dropped his duffel bag as soon as he saw your face, the circles under your eyes practically impossible to ignore.

You attempted to swat his hand away as it came up to your forehead but it was no use, he just dodged the whack and pressed the back of his hand to your skin. “You’re really warm baby, why don’t you go lay down and I’ll make you something to eat, we have stuff for soup I’m pretty sure.”

“Will, I’m fine. I just need to drink some water and I’ll be good as new.” You always tried this, to convince him that you were fine but, spoiler alert, it never worked. Not once. It’d been going on three years and he still managed to baby you.

He shook his head instantly, “Look. Either you go to bed and get some rest willingly, or I will drag your ass down the hall, kicking, screaming and all. You know I’ll have no problem with either option.” Will raised his eyebrows at you, propping himself against the counter.

Truthfully it wasn’t even worth arguing. He could pick you up as easily as he could pick up a damn banana when you were in full strength and health, never mind when you could barely open a jar of pickles.

“Fine.” You grumbled, tossing the paper towel onto the counter. “I don’t even feel that sick.” A lie of course, a cough following your words, Will instantly giving a knowing look. One that personally said ‘Are you sure about that?.’ “Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything, now go. I’ll take care of all of this.” He gave a warm smile to you, watching you until you disappeared into the bedroom before turning and finishing whatever you were cleaning and making the dinner that did make you feel the slightest bit better.

JOIN WILL'S TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @everything-fandom, @thebejeweledwatercat, @mrspeacem1nusone, @wnbweasley, @alexxavicry, @halsteadbrasil, @firetruckstuckley, @lilithblade, @angelicbxtchthea

[jaozendry]

"Why would you do this to yourself?"

Pairing: Robby Keene x GN!Reader

Type: Angst

Warnings: drinking, self-harm, blood, knives, mild-swearing

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Summary: Robby finds you in a pitiful state after your breakup and tries to make you feel better.

______________________________________________________________

"Y/N? What happened here?" Robby asks, opening the door to your mess of an apartment.

It's been two weeks since the two of you broke up. Since then, you've been drinking to try to forget it, and... self-harming to go through the pain. Robby went to go live with his father in the meanwhile and left the apartment to you. Little did he know, leaving you all by yourself might've been the worst mistake of his life.

Robby comes back to your apartment to check up on you since he's still paying for the bills. Deep inside, he's not just here for your half of rent: he wants to see you. He misses you, he still loves you but he won't admit it. Letting out his feelings through words has never been his strong suit. He's worried about you.

He finds you on the bathroom floor, bleeding profusely from the wrist. "Holy shit, Y/N! You okay?!" he asks, rushing towards you. "What happened?!" he asks again, stopping the bleeding with a towel. He notices the knife you used on the counter, obviously bloodied. "We talked about this..." he tells you, sighing. "I'm sorry." you sob while Robby cleans your wound to heal it. "Don't be sorry." he sighs, searching for plasters in the curtains. "Why would you do this to yourself?" he asks you, healing the cut. You remain silent while he shakes his head.

"Can you stand?" he asks, reaching out his hand. You nod in agreement. "Come on, let's sit you down." You struggle to stand, much to his surprise. "You were drinking again..." he tells you, taking your hand and helping you up.

The both of you head to the living room. Robby had to help you out a lot, given your pitiful condition. You were struggling to walk properly, which made his heart skip a beat. He thought you were going to fall at any moment and worsen your condition.

While you sit down on the couch with a pillow, Robby takes the empty bottles of alcohol on the table to throw them out, as well as the unopened ones in the fridge. "What are you doing?" you ask him, barely able to pronounce a word. "Taking away your drinks. It's bad for you; look in the mirror right now." he explains, putting the bottles in a plastic bag. "You're not my dad-" He interrupts you: "There's no discussing it." he snaps. He immediately calms down and sighs. "Sorry."

He sits down next to you on the couch, holding your hand. "Talk to me." You can see the sincerity and concern in his beautiful eyes. "Is it because of the breakup?" he asks while tears dwell up in your eyes. "Yeah." you reply, your voice breaking. "I just... miss you." His grasp on your hand tightens firmly. "I know." he adds, crying softly as well. "But... I'm still not ready to commit to a relationship. I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind." he explains. "I know, it's fine."

His voice starts breaking. "No, I know it's not. You're drinking yourself to an early grave and cutting yourself until you bleed out. It's not fine, Y/N." You look at him with teary eyes, realizing he still cares. "I never stopped caring about you, even after the breakup. You're still precious to me... you always will be, Y/N. You helped me at my lowest, let me help you." He wipes away the tears from your eyes. "Thanks, Robby." He caresses your face softly. "I don't want you to end up like my dad because of me. Drinking your life away, being drunk all the time, just being sad and pathetic." he says, earning a little laugh from you. "He got better now, you can too." he adds, kissing your forehead.

"Let me get you something to eat." he says, standing up and going through your fridge. "Here, you had some pizza in your fridge. Also water." he says, smiling. You giggle. "Thanks." you reply softly. He sits down next to you once more and eats with you. He sighs out of relief.

"I still love you, Y/N. And I still care about you."

[supermarvel-fics]

Tickletober Day 6: Cuddles

fandom: marvel

word count: 1,080

pairing: bucky x reader (established relationship)

summary: cuddling with bucky after a rough day leads to something else

Sometimes all you needed after a long, hard day was Bucky.

Training to keep up with the rest of the team took a toll on you both physically and mentally, but it was always worth it when you finally got into the field to show off the new skills Natasha had shown you. So for now, you’d suck it up and work hard and think about how much your body hurt after the session was over.

You drank the remainder of your water, wiped your sweat off with a towel, and made way back to your room to clean yourself properly. You had already made up your mind about inviting Bucky over to cuddle and watch a movie with you, so when you opened your bedroom door to find him already lounging on your bed, you dropped your things onto the floor and rushed over to him in excitement.

“Buck!” You shouted, jumping on your bed and wrapping him up into a hug. “I missed you!”

Bucky laughed, repositioning himself so his arms were around you and his face wasn’t being smushed by your shoulder. “You saw me at breakfast!”

“Yeah, but that was hours ago,” You pulled back to admire his face, smiling when his eyes shifted to your lips for just a millisecond. You chuckled, surging down to kiss him chastely. “Wait for me while I shower? I’ll be quick.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” He replied as he nudged his nose with yours, his eyes glazing over. “Go, you’re sweaty and you stink.”

Gasping in faux offense, you pushed off of him and towards your bathroom, grabbing a set of pajamas on the way. “Words cut deep, Bucky. You owe me after that.”

“I think I have something in mind,” He grinned. “But you gotta smell like lavender.”

“You are the worst,” You pointed at him accusingly, but a smile couldn’t help but form on your face. Before Bucky would retort back, you shut yourself in your bathroom to take the quickest shower possible.

It’s surprising how fast something can be done when you have an incentive to finish. You washed your hair and body in less than 10 minutes, drying yourself off before changing into something comfortable. You stepped back out into your room, eyes roaming when you didn’t see Bucky on your bed.

Your face fell slightly, but was replaced by pure shock when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“BOO!” Bucky yelled as he grabbed you. You made a loud squeaking noise at the surprised, growling and batting at his arms once the initial shock wore off.

“Bucky! That was mean!”

“It’s October, doll! I gotta scare you as much as I can,” He said, reaching his face forward to kiss you on the cheek. You grunted and rolled your eyes, wrenching yourself from his arms and climbing onto your bed.

“You owe me times 2, now, James,” You declared as you got situated under the comforter. Bucky followed your lead, sliding into the other side of the bed.

“Oh, using the first name on me, huh? You must be really mad,” He responded with that insufferable taunting lilt to his voice. The one that made you involuntarily smile. He slid down so that his head was on the pillow and he opened his arms for you. “Well, I have a way to make you forgive me. Come here.”

You crossed your arms across your chest, still leaning back against the headboard and not gratifying him no matter how much you wanted to. Bucky huffed and bit the inside of his cheek before sliding his arm around your waist. You knew exactly what he was planning before he even started.

“Don’t,” You ordered. Your tone wasn’t as serious as you’d wanted it to sound, but only because the two of you always played games like this and neither of you were ever truly angry or upset.

“Then, come here.”

When you still didn’t listen, Bucky’s fingers dug into your right side, causing you to arch into him to escape. You squealed and giggled, falling sideways straight into Bucky’s arms like he’d planned. You heard a triumphant Hmmph come from his throat when you’d given up and snuggled into him more comfortably.

His strong embrace pulled you closer to him with your head resting on his chest, and you sighed in contentment as you hugged him. Legs entangled together, it was what you’d been waiting for all day.

The silence between the two of you felt normal. Just enjoying each other’s company and listening to the rhythmic breathing and Bucky’s heartbeat. It was pure bliss and every day, you were caught off guard by the fact that Bucky was yours and you could do this whenever you wanted.

A light fluttering sensation across your ribcage pulled you from your train of thought; a ticklish grin coming to your lips. “Buhucky, what are you dohoing?”

“You know tickling you is my favorite thing in the world and now that I had a little taste of that wonderful giggle of yours, I need to hear more of it,” He answered honestly. You squirmed into him, obviously not trying your hardest to get him to stop. You didn’t mind it, especially when it was soft and light like this.

“Buhut, we were cuddling!” You protested, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Yes, and look! We are still cuddling even though I’m tickling you. We’re killing two birds with one stone,” He teased. You let out a giggly groan and moved your arm so that your elbow was blocking the space he had, but Bucky put a stop to that by grabbing your hand with his metal one and pulling it across his abdomen so he had access to your entire right side. “No, no, you can’t hide from me.”

“Buhuck!” Your laughter pitched up now that you felt exponentially more vulnerable and you attempted to arch away from his wiggling fingers, but it only sent you closer to your assailant. “You owe me tihimes three nohohow!”

“Oh, I do, huh?” He sped up his tickling fingers, moving closer to the backs of your ribs where he knew you were extra sensitive and grinning smugly when your giggles turned into belly laughter and you buried your face deeper in his chest. “What about now?”

“TIHIHIMES FOHOUR!”

You just want me to keep going, don’t you, doll?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. Bucky already knew by the way you were still in his arms.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 6

For now I had put the groceries down on my bed. I really didn’t want the bags on the floor because that’s disgusting and would attract ants. 

“I’ll figure that out later,” I say as I grab the hoe by the door and head outside.

The sun is beating down ferociously today. Thankfully, it is still spring which means there is a bit of a cool breeze whipping through the air. My tank top should be enough to air my upper body out when it does get too warm. Worst that will happen is probably a sunburn.

The time comes to start getting down to business. I till and rake up the dirt to create good soil for planting seeds. I am not an expert at doing this since this is only my first time doing so. I just kind of eyeball it and when the soil looks dark and stirred up enough I move to the next spot. I keep going until I have several rows of fresh, turned up soil.

I plant one row of each type of seed which results in me having 4 long rows of seeds. That didn’t take nearly as long as cutting the trees or slashing the grass. It was a lot of bending down though and my thighs are feeling pretty stiff. 

Once I planted the final seed. I rose from the crouch position I was in, wiped my brow, grabbed the hoe and walked right back inside the house. It’s only about 7 o’clock judging by the position of the sun. I could really go for a beer or something.

Inside the house, I walk over and start the shower. It’s about time I clean myself up. I strip down to nothing and throw a towel around my body. First I put the overalls in the stream of water and put some soap on them to clean them up the best I could. There is no washer or dryer here or even a bucket for them to fit in to wash. The shower is the best I have to work with. 

I ring out the pair of overalls and walk them outside, still wearing just the towel, to lay them across the front porch. Hopefully the sun tomorrow morning will be shining enough to dry them nicely.

“Um… is this a bad time?” A voice calls out. A let out a startle scream and darted my eyes around the field to see who it was. It’s Leah.

I cling to my towel to hold it tighter against my body in hopes it doesn’t decide to fall down at this moment.

“It is slightly a bad time, yeah. But I can’t turn away a fellow Pelican Towner. What do you need?” I give her a friendly smile to lighten the mood slightly.

“I see you’ve just planted some crops.I was just wondering if you’d be able to spare me a head of cauliflower when they are ripe and ready to be harvested? I was going to put it on the Help Wanted board… but I figured I lived close enough I’d take a walk over and ask. Sorry for the bad timing.” She scratches the back of her neck and gives me a goofy grin. 

“Of course I will give you one when they are ready! I will come find you in a few days. Where do you live again?”

“I live by Marnie down that way,” she points to the pathway south of the farm, “I, of course, will give you compensation for this chivalrous deed you are doing for a dear lady in distress,” she sarcastically explains in a weird accent. She lets out a laugh, causing me to join in with the laughter. 

Leah gives me a wave and heads back south to her home. I go back inside to finally hop in the shower.It feels so nice to be clean again. I missed feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Exiting the bathroom, I walk to my suitcase and start rummaging through it for something to wear. I finally settled on a pair of distressed baggy jeans, with a pink plaid, button up t-shirt. After slipping on my boots, I head out the door and to the Stardrop Saloon.

The air has really cooled down since the sun is no longer up. It took me about an hour to fully get ready to go so it’s now 8 o’clock. The townies will all be piling up in the saloon one by one as it gets later. A good chunk should already be there by the time I arrive.

With my hair still damp, I start putting it into a braid while nearing the door of the saloon. I toss my now braided hair back over my shoulder and walk in. Just as I suspected, it is bustling with commotion. Pam is over in her usual spot, and so is the guy standing by the fireplace. Mayor Lewis is at a table with Pierre and Marnie and a couple others I haven’t met yet. They all give me a friendly wave as I enter. I shoot them one back as I approach Gus.

“Hey Gus! How are you today?” I ask, kindly as I sit down on a bar stool.

“Not too bad. Same old, same old. What about you?” he replies.

“I’m in the same boat as you. Although, I did finally get some crops started so that’s a bonus,” I flash him a thumbs up and he copies me.

Without even asking me, Gus grabs a large glass and fills it with beer and passes it to me. I look at him with wide eyes.

“How’d you know?” I utter in astonishment.

“I just had a feeling. I’ve worked here long enough to read people and how they're feeling.” He winks as he goes back to drying other big glasses that have just been washed.

“Wanna try some pizza? It’s freshly made!” Emily had appeared behind the counter near Gus without me even noticing her walk by. She was holding a large, circle tray which I assume is holding the pizza.

“Absolutely I will try some,” I exclaim as I reach over, grab a slice off the tray and start devouring it.

“Pig,” a melodious voice chimes from behind me. Except it wasn’t that pleasant considering what she just called me. It was no other than Haley, strutting in with Alex on her heels.

I turn to give her a scowl, but I have a mouth full of pizza at the same time. My cheeks are slightly puffed from the big bites I was chewing and that caused her to laugh. It seemed like a genuine one rather than her just laughing at me to make me feel bad.

Haley covers her mouth to hide her laugh, but does a bad job because I can still see her face scrunched up and her body shuttering as she chuckles. 

For some reason, her giggling over my behavior makes my stomach feel funny and I feel my face heat up. I quickly look away from her and find anything else to focus on.

“Are you stalking me or something, creep?” She calls out once again.

I slump farther into my seat and turn slowly in the spinny barstool to face her once again.

“I could ask you the same thing. I was here first, you know.” I extend my legs and cross them at the ankles while simultaneously crossing my arms. I see Haley’s eyes flick down to look at my arms but then right back up at my eyes.

“Yeah but I was at Pierre’s AND the fountain first!” She snaps. Poor Alex is still standing behind her, barely even through the door. He has the most confused look on his face I’ve ever seen on a person. He finally decides to grab her shoulders gently and move her to the side so he can squeeze past.

“Then you must just be wishing I’m with you then, huh? The universe must hear your prayers.” I taunt. 

“Go to Hell!” She finally shouts while aggressively pointing at me. She sashays away, trailing behind Alex as he goes to the arcade. I notice her little hip sway as she struts away. 

I grab another beer from Gus and follow their trail to get to the arcade as well. Just about everyone is hanging out there now and I’m one of the last few to arrive. We are just waiting on Penny and Elliot. Penny must be still with Jas and Vincent, but who knows where Elliot is.

Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail are once again playing a game of pool. This time it’s Sam versus Abigail and Sebastian watching from the side. Maru is playing one of the two arcade games, while Leah plays the other. Haley is back on the corner couch whispering away to Alex.

Surely enough a few moments later, Penny comes jogging into the saloon, seemingly out of breath. 

“Sorry…” she pants, ”Late tutoring session. Got wrapped up in a book.” She takes a seat on the couch next to Haley and Alex. Haley shoots her a look but goes back to whispering. 

Tipping back the rest of my beer, I stand up to go get another one from Gus, stumbling around a tad in the process. I am kind of a lightweight and being on an empty stomach with just a slice of pizza in there doesn’t help. 

As I enter the arcade once again, beer in hand, I shout, “Who wants to have a pool tournament!”

Everyone nods in agreement and some chatter stirs up amongst the crowd in the arcade. We go to the chalkboard that’s pinned against the wall and start mapping out the brackets. Since there are 8 of us, potentially 9, it is going to be a long night of pool.

[dreamersbcll]

We get a lot of “Tara gets hurt” or “Sam takes care of Tara” but what about Sam? Obviously we know the way to hurt Sam the most is through Tara, but what about if Sam was hurt in a way that required Tara to have to help take care of Sam in the way that we know Sam does so often for Tara?

“Enneagrams”

for this anon and the other few who wanted this same prompt.

—————————————————————————-

“Ow. Ow. Fuck. Ow,” Sam hissed.

She wasn’t supposed to be out of bed. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to be in the bathroom by herself. But she would be damned if she had Tara help her to the toilet.

The stab wound was just a setback. It was from some Stab-obsessed fan who wanted Sam’s signature. Instead of giving it to them, Sam decided to slap them. How was she to know that they had a knife on them?

In hindsight, she should’ve known.

But it didn’t matter now. What’s done is done.

Honestly, the worst part of this whole ordeal was how much Tara doted on her.

Though the pair had been through heaven and hell together, Sam couldn’t handle the care that Tara was providing. Her sister was so gentle and so sweet with her. She didn’t deserve it. It was a sobering thought to know that her baby sister would take her own heart clean apart if it helped Sam’s beat.

Her sister was so good. Tara was the sunshine that came after a storm. She was the sun rising, and the colors shimmered across a calm sea. Sam was the rain that came after, the storms that destroyed cities, and the chill that followed cruel words.

Sam didn’t deserve anything good. She wasn’t a fundamentally good person. Violence was intertwined with every cell in her body. If anyone deserves hell, it was Sam. She could feel the flames licking her skin and her hollow heart crumbling apart.

Yet despite all the damage that came with knowing Sam, her sister stayed.

And she had no idea why. Sam had left her. Tore her foundations down. She shattered her heart onto the pavement. Sam broke Tara and never gave her a chance to heal.

But Tara came back. Every single time. Her arms open, hands ready to take the weight off Sam’s shoulders. Her sister back in her life, loving her as she deserved, was an out-of-body experience. Whenever Sam felt she couldn’t breathe, Tara would take the oxygen straight from her lungs.

She didn’t deserve this. But Tara still stayed.

——

“Sam? You’re supposed to be in bed. Why are you in the bathroom? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Sam closed her eyes to her sister’s voice, trying to breathe out through her nose. Nausea rose in her throat, and her vision felt blurry. Too much movement. Too much input.

“Tara, help,” she whispered. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to avoid her reflection in the mirror. If she didn’t look, she didn’t have to see the pathetic human in front of her.

She heard the door open behind her and could feel Tara’s gaze drink her in.

“I’m sorry. I needed to use the bathroom. I can’t get out. It hurts,” she mumbled, gripping onto the countertop.

Her sister pressed a hand to Sam’s back, grabbing Sam’s hand with the other. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, I promise,”.

Sam sobbed a bit, choking down the bile in her throat. She needed to be stronger. She had to be better. Her sister shouldn’t have to take care of her. Sam should be the one strong enough to stand guard over her own body.

Despite every muscle in her body begging her to stand tall and stand strong, she let her sister guide her to bed. Tara was so fucking careful, laying Sam down and tucking her in. She even had a glass of water and her pain medications ready.

Sam swore she couldn’t let Tara in again, but like a force to be reckoned with, her sister broke down her barriers. And though Sam wanted to fight it, her sister still loved her unconditionally.

Tara wiped her face with cool towels, held her hand as pain rose through her, and kissed her wet cheeks despite the tears that fell.

Maybe, just maybe, Sam could take her armor off. She could put her sword down. She could be loved.

Tara showed her what a great privilege it was to be loved.

Sam wanted to believe her.

[paleparearchive]

Reason for Anger

Bazille's Peaceful Tea Time 4★ story (1/3) ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

Location: atelier (morning) ; Renoir, Monet, Sisley & Bazille's room | Characters: Bazille, Renoir, Monet, Sisley

Bazille: (... Phew. I think it's time to take a break. I've been painting since this morning.)

(Right, I should go ahead and send out the letter while I'm at it. That way it will arrive in time for their wedding anniversary…)

Hey guys…

Sisley: Be careful, Bazille!

Bazille: Ah!? W-What the…!?

*falls*

Ah…!

Monet: Hey, what happened!? There was a huge noise, is everythin' okay!?

Renoir: Oh? You fell down, Bazille? That's unusual, did you get hurt?

Bazille: N-No… I'm fine.

Sisley: I'm glad you're not hurt... I think you stepped on this brush.

Bazille: For God's sake… Why is there so much stuff scattered on the floor? Ah. In addition to that, the one that was stepped on is broken.

Monet: My bad. I had used that earlier and left it out.

Bazille: … Listen there. If you know, put it away immediately!

Monet: But ya see! I've been pickin' up the brush a lot lately and I'm still paintin' today!

Bazille: You should just have to take it out of the brush slot each time.

Monet: Huuuh, it's a hassle to wash it every time. I'm gonna use it right away anyway.

Bazille: You… Then at least don't let it roll on the floor!

Sisley: Ah. Bazille, over there…!

Bazille: Aaaah!? What is it this time!?

Sisley: I was going to say that there was a bucket of dirty water in there…

Bazille: Ah. Thank you. It was too late, though…

Renoir: Sooorry, Bazille. I guess that's my fault. I just got new water and left the dirty one in there.

Bazille: You… Why are you using three, four or five buckets for brush rinsing! One is enough. And don't keep the dirty water forever, just throw it out!!

Renoir: Well, if I go to change it when I feel like picking up the brush, my motivation will run away, you know.

Monet: W-We'd better wipe this off! Are your clothes wet, Bazille!?

Sisley: Uuhm, there must have been some towels around there... Ah. Your letter is all wet and soggy…

Renoir: Oh no, the letters are smudged too. I guess you can't send it anymore…

Monet: This is the one ya wrote… right? How did it end up here?

Bazille: How, I wonder… I guess I dropped it when I fell.

Monet: Huh!? Then it's my fault!

Bazille: If you get that, stop messing around with your brush! You too, Renoir, make sure you put that bucket away!

Renoir: Y-Yes, understood.

Bazille: Sorry, but you'll have to wipe the floor clean as well. You never know who might fall down again.

… I'll go change my clothes.

Sisley: Bazille…

Monet: H-He was angry at us… right? He even got his clothes all dirty…

Renoir: That's true. And I ruined the letter he went through the trouble of writing.

Monet: Do you think he'll come back?

Renoir: … I wonder.

Sisley: He just went to change his clothes, I'm sure of it. If you're worried, I'll go check on him later.

—

Bazille: (Jeez, those guys... No matter how much I tell them, they can't get rid of their messy habit. The worst part is that neither of them had any bad intentions. But they have to do something about it before it's too late. They were lucky I was the victim, but what would they do if someone else got hurt? Besides, if it's a letter, it's one thing, but if it's a painting that gets dirty, it won't go unpunished, right?)

… What should I do?

(Ah, I guess I'll have to rewrite this letter, too. Come to think of it, that was the last of the letter set. And that too…)

… Shall I go buy it?

[jaozendry]

"I'm better now, right?"

Pairing: Gar Logan x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempts

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Summary: Gar finds you in the bathroom crying and tries to understand why. You decide to explain to him what happened last year: February 10th, 2022.

Author's note: trauma dumping dont mind me!!!! </3 ; the damian wayne fic part 3 is coming btw!!!!!!!!! <3

______________________________________________________________

Gar rushes to the bathroom after he hears you sob quietly, but also loudly at the same time. It's the first time he's seen you in this state, in the shower, no less. Here you are, sitting in the shower with hot water covering your teary eyes with Another Love by Tom Odell playing in the background.

Gar pauses your music and turns off the shower. He didn't care if you didn't clean yourself yet, that's the least of his worries: he wants you to be okay. He wraps a towel around you so you can feel comfortable.

"What happened?!" he asks in horror. "I heard you cry, I- are you okay?!"

He wipes away your tears and holds both of your hands. You sigh in sadness, asking yourself if you should tell him about... last year. February 10th, 2022. The first time you tried to kill yourself.

"I- uh..." It is clear that you can barely speak. Gar looks at you in the eyes with the patience of a literal saint.

"It's okay, take your time." he says, smiling faintly and his voice slightly breaking.

"It's about... you know... last year. February 10th 2022. You know what happened-"

Gar immediately stands up to check the date upon hearing those words. A horrored expression clouds his face when confirming that the date is indeed February 10th, 2023.

"It's been exactly a year." you declare, still sitting on the floor, a towel wrapped around your body.

Gar immediately rushes back to you, standing on his legs to be on your level and taking your face softly.

"Don't worry, Y/N. You're feeling better now, right? It's all in the past." he explains with half a smile on his face.

"I know, but like, I remember it like it was yesterday." you admit, tears welling up. "I remember every single thing I did. I was in the shower exactly a year ago, pills inside my desk drawer, thinking if I should do it. I should've talked to my sister, she was literally in the house! I should've talked to my parents, to anyone! I should've... I shouldn't have done this to them... to you!"

You break down in tears, holding your stomach while Gar hugs you.

"It's okay, calm down. Talk to me, let it out. You have the chance to right now." he comforts you, his eyes welling up tears as well. You take a deep breath before continuing your explanation.

"I literally remember the music I was listening to while waiting for the pills to work, what clothes I was wearing, the faces of the cops when they showed up, everything! The look on my mother's face when she saw me, the disappointment in my father's eyes, all of it is still in my head."

Gar holds your hands tightly to prevent you from losing control of yourself. He caresses your face and nods for you to continue.

"I remember every room I was in at the hospital. Everywhere I went that day, it's still in my mind. The worst is like... the mental hospital. I felt trapped, because I was! I remember everything that happened there, how many times I cried and at what time, thinking what would happen to me. I was thinking about my family, my friends, even my teachers and most of all... you. What would you think when you found out?! I'm just- I'm sorry."

Your green-haired boyfriend grabs your hips and finally lets the tears in his eyes drop while you quietly sob. He wipes away your tears once again before kissing you on the forehead.

"Look, when you did it, I was terrified... of losing you." he explains. "I didn't care how many days of school you missed, or how much homework you would have to catch up on. Your life is worth so much more... so please... don't throw it away. Let me help you. Please."

His voice starts breaking and his tears drop more and more. He finally breaks and hugs you to avoid worrying you. He kisses your cheeks repeatedly and holds your head.

However, you felt comfort when you heard those words. You didn't feel trapped and alone anymore. Someone was actually there for you. It felt like a fairytale. The both of you finally calm down enough for Gar to whisper this into your ear:

"You're stronger now. Don't let it go to your head, okay? I'm here."

[smuttyworks]

Captured (part 2) - Brandon Carver

in continuation of the first story I posted! still getting use to Tumblr since I haven't used it in years, but enjoy!

He didn’t even return to face you after that little commotion you both caused, instead a woman came in, quiet and distant, but offered some clothes and a towel, asking If you wanted to wash yourself off, to which you accepted, grateful to wash off the dirt and sex off your sore body. 

She directed you to a small cement room with a bucket of clean water and a purple loofa above a drain. She leaned against the wall and made an effort to not watch you scrub the grime off yourself, but you know it was her job to watch you and make sure you weren’t up to something, but you didn’t really have much fight in you.

You told Daryl days ahead that if things went south while you snuck in, to just assume the worst and take care of the group, making sure they would be safe. You prayed he would listen, hoping no one else would get found and tortured, unlike the ‘torture’ you had endured. 

The pleasure you felt with the unnamed man did make you feel guilty, for all the pain they caused your group and what they would cause if they found any of them, how could you enjoy anything that he did?

You gripped the loofa tightly, dipping it into the lukewarm water and scrubbing your legs, reaching up to your sticky thighs of where his seed stuck to your skin, now mixed with the dirt from the cell. You felt filthy, disgusting… 

“Carver, I got this.” The woman said in annoyance, making your eyes jolt up to who she could be talking to. “You’ve done enough.” She hissed, but you couldn’t see who she was talking to past the door frame. Could it be him?

“Go.” His voice commanded, answering your question, it was him. 

Your heart started to pound at the sound of his voice, you scrubbed more of your skin as quick as possible as she turned out of the room and stomped down the long concrete hallway. Carver, his name was Carver… fitting name. 

He took her place and leaned against the door frame, his eyes watching your every move, but he didn’t say anything. So, neither did you, instead you continued to clean your body, happy you even had the chance to clean yourself off like this.

Trying to ignore his lingering eyes, you cleaned the small wound on your chest, wiping off the dried blood that dripped down between your breasts, feeling the pain of the cut was a reminder of who he is, despite the short amount of fun you two had together, he was nothing but the enemy.

You winced slightly when trying to scrub your back, sore from the harsh abuse you went through just a few hours before. “May I?” he questioned, stepping closer to you, and you warily nodded. You passed him the loofa and he dipped it into the water before slowly stepping behind you and pressing it to your back, gently rubbing the loofa over your back and scrubbing the spots where you couldn’t reach.

“What’s with the change of mood?” you asked quietly, looking down at the drain, watching the water drip down.

He huffed, “You want me to be cruel or what?” he asked sarcastically. You shook your head and turned to face him, looking up into his dark eyes.

“No.” you sighed, “I’m just confused…” you swallowed

He stepped back, dropping the loofa on the ground, and picking up the towel from the stool that the woman set it on, “I am too.” His head tilted slightly as he watched you dry off your body.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, wrapping the towel around your hurt body. “Why haven’t you killed me yet? Because I’m not going to talk, and you know that.” You used the last bit of confidence you had to say that.

“I don’t fucking know.” He spat, taking a step closer to you, scared he was going to hit you again you flinched back. Your eyes met his again and his expression was a little softer, “I don’t know.”

“I’m tired.” You breathed, looking down at your feet.

“I’ll take you back to your cell now then.” He said blankly, motioning for you to out the small door frame before him, so you did, and followed in the direction you remembered to get back to the cell room. Once you got back there you could see a glass of water and a small pill on the table. You stopped and looked down at it, “It’s the plan b.” he stated, to which you nodded, reaching for the small pill, taking a short look at it before popping it in your mouth and taking it down with some water.

You finished the glass of water and looked at the cell you were last in, noticing a little blanket along with a pillow, beside the clean clothes the woman brought for you. “Did you bring those?”

“It’s no big deal.” 

You gave him a small smile, “Thank you.” and stepped into the small cell grateful for the little amount of kindness he was showing, but it was furthering your confusion. He locked the gate behind you, muttering a quiet goodnight before leaving the room.

You put on the clean clothes, slipping the oversized shirt over your tired shoulders, and pulling the sweatpants up.

You had never met someone so cruel, brutal, and dangerous before, someone who had a soft side as well, it confused you to no end, thinking of how he could walk through those doors with killing you set in his mind, or fucking you, or maybe even kissing you… you could never know what was going through his mind, you couldn’t trust him.

And clearly with what that woman said, “You’ve done enough.” Shows that she isn’t the biggest fan of how he was handing this situation, if he even told her the full story at all… but why would he? You’re only supposed to be alive long enough to tell them information about your group, so your death was long overdue.

You shut your eyes and leaned your head on the pillow, covering your cold body with the blanket, trying your best to shut your mind down so you could get some sleep before tomorrow, because something had to happen soon, he had to come up with a decision soon.

-

You were woken up by the door opening, and half asleep you still jolted yourself up so you were leaning on the wall, wanting to be the most prepared for whatever was coming as possible.

It was him, he made his way to the cell door and unlocked it, then stepped back and sat on the ledge of the table with his arms crossed comfortably, his eyes looking down at the floor.

You swallowed nervously before pulling yourself off the cold cell floor, “Hi.” You breathed, standing in the doorframe of the cell.

“Morning.” He sighed, “I need you to give me some kind of information… anything.” Your brows furrowed, he knew you weren’t going to tell him anything, even the smallest piece of information they could possibly figure out more. “You’ll be dead by tonight if you cant tell me anything, I cant keep you alive otherwise.” His eyes shot to yours, they were soft.

“Why do you want to keep me alive?” you questioned softly, confused on why he suddenly cared when a few days ago he was willing to torture you for information.

He took a deep breath, “I don’t know, I cant explain it…” he turned to look at the door, “I feel something about you, I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I don’t think I will again.” 

You stepped closer to him, now directly in front of him, “I feel the same.” You gave him a small smile.

“I don’t even know your name,” he breathed, his eyes staring at your lips.

“(Y/n).” you swallowed, leaning slightly up towards his face, to which he wasted no time closing in the remaining space between you two, connecting your lips together softly, his movements gentler than you’d ever felt from him before. 

“Carver,” you breathed against his lips, causing him to pull away slightly, looking into your eyes. You swallowed nervously, hoping you didn’t push your luck.

“Brandon Carver,” he lightly smiled before connecting your lips again, his lips were soft, he parted yours with his tongue smoothly, entering your mouth delicately as he pulled your body into his, his arms wrapping around your back and holding you in place.

You could feel all outside thoughts slipping from your mind as he deepened the kiss, snaking his hand up your back until he reached the small of your neck, pulling your face in closer to his. 

You could feel his growing erection on your tummy through both your clothes, and it excited you but also made you nervous to see if sex this time would be different or if he would hurt you like last time.

With your free hand you started lightly palming him through his black cargo pants, earning a breathy moan from him. “You could earn a spot here, with me.” He breathed, slipping his hand under the hem of the shirt and trailed his warm fingers up and down your back lightly. “Youre different, you could stay with me, you just have to give me something… anything.” He swallowed, pulling away and looking into your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, you knew you wouldn’t cave. Your group meant everything to you and you’d die before giving away anything about them, and he knew that… “Just kiss me for right now.” You whispered.

And he did just that, dragging his rough hand over your back, then by the hem he lifted the shit up and over your head, once again exposing your breasts to him and the cold air of the cell room. He looked down at your body and ran his fingers lightly over the scab on your upper chest. “You could handle the pain; you could take what I did without caving… you’re stronger than anyone else I’ve interrogated.” He lightly smiled trailing his finger down until he reached your hard nipple, lightly pinching the bud between his two fingers, causing you moan lightly.

The way his eyes explored your body and is fingers worked lightly on your sensitive nipple was ecstasy, you enjoyed every second of his sweet torture. He pulled from you, much to your dismay, but then turned the both of you around so you were standing against the table now, and he pulled down the sweats before lifting you so you were sitting on the table, fully exposed.

Without saying anything, Carver leaned down and took your sensitive nipple between his lips, lightly swirling his tongue around you, leaving you to moan out his name. with his other hand he started palming your breast and playing with your other nipple, causing your arousal to drip from your core. Your head fell back from the pleasure he was causing, his tongue worked so amazing on your skin, his soft lips leaving small kisses around your nipples as he switched from one to another, making sure to give attention to both.

He dropped his hand from your breast and started lightly rubbing his fingers between your thighs, making sure not to touch your arousal just yet, teasing you like crazy.

You didn’t know this Carver existed, you only saw the rough selfish Carver who put a loaded gun between your lips in a way to scare you, which worked. You mentally shook the thought from your mind as you only wanted to enjoy what this Carver was doing to you.

His long fingers finally reached your core, he slowly ran his large finger over your slit, causing a moan to escape at the pleasure. “You’re so wet.” He breathed, dipping his finger between your folds and teasing your entrance before lifting his hand towards his face, and slipping his idle finger between his lips, sucking your juices, his eyes never leaving yours, “You taste so fucking good.” 

Your eyes watched as he dropped to his knees, lifting your left leg over his shoulder, and pushing the right leg open more, his eyes curiously watching your expressions as he started kissing your inner thighs. “Carver,” you moaned, lightly tangling your fingers in his dark long locks.

As he kissed closer and closer to your core your moans got breathier, the pleasure already driving you insane. “I want to make you feel good,” he breathed onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, once again running his fingers over your core before parting your lips and running his tongue over your sensitive bits. 

“F-Fuck,” you cried, gripping his hair slightly harder. You weren’t used to these kinds of feelings, no one had gone down on you before, so this feeling was brand new, and exciting.

“You taste so good, baby.” He groaned, lapping his tongue over your clit, causing you to cry out again at the intense waves of pleasure. He started sliding his finger in and out of you at a pace that matched his tongue, the motions together driving you close to your orgasm already.

With his free hand, he gripped onto your bare thigh that was over his shoulder and used more pressure with his tongue, “I want you to cum on my tongue, (Y/n).” he breathed, obviously he could see you were getting closer and closer.

With a few tongue flicks he had you coming completely undone, his hands gripping your body tightly as his tongue worked wonders, letting you ride out your orgasm in complete ecstasy. 

Carver stood back up and pressed firm kisses to your lips, your hand still tangled in his soft hair so you could keep him close. “I want to make you feel good now,” you breathed against his lips, pressing small kisses to the side of his lips until you reached his jaw, kissing his skin. 

“Its all about you today.” He smirked, gripping your jaw lightly so he could look you in your eyes. You giggled and reached for his belt, quickly undoing it along with the buttons of his pants, but pulled on the hem of his longsleeve black shirt before pulling his pants down, telling him you wanted him fully naked this time, to which he obliged, lifting the shirt off his body.

Your eyes widened as you took in the gorgeous man in front of you, his tan, muscular torso, his skin soft yet scarred, he was the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on in your life. Your fingers looped in the belt straps of his pants and you tugged them down, waiting as he kicked his pants off, now standing fully naked in front of you, and you didn’t know what to say, but “Wow.” You gawked, in awe of him

He rolled his eyes with a small chuckle before stepping closer between your legs, positioning his length at your entrance, but instead of sliding in yet he dipped his tip between your folds, mixing your juices with his pre cum, something that turned you on insanely. 

His eyes met yours and you gave him a small nod, letting him know you were ready, and he pushed his body into yours, sinking his large length into your core, making you both moan into each other at the amazing pleasure you gave to one another.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, holding the back of your neck again so he could pull you close, “so good.” he breathed.

Your moans mixed with his filled the cold room as well as the sound of both your skin hitting each others. This was the best feeling you had ever felt, he knew exactly how to drive you insane. His thrusts were sinfully delicious, his dick hitting your g-spot with every movement.

With his strong hands, he pushed you so your back was on the table and legs over his shoulders, him now entering you at a different angle and causing you to cry out in pleasure, “Carver!” you begged, feeling him roughly enter you, his face contorting in pleasure, but his eyes always staying on you, pressing kisses to your calves that rested on his shoulders, the small details of his intimacy turning you on like no other.

His movements started to get sloppier, entailing he was getting close to his orgasm, and you wanted to feel him fill you up again, you wanted to see his expression as he poured himself inside of you, the intimate feeling was everything to you…

“Fill me up Carver,” you moaned, running your fingers over his stomach, “Fuck baby,” he pressed his palm firmly to your lower stomach, holding you in place as he moaned out, “F-Fuck…” he groaned, before he came undone above you, harshly pumping inside you, filling you with his seed once again.

He rode out his orgasm before lifting you off the table and pressing kisses to your forehead, “Tell me anything, anything…” he whispered, out of breath, “I want you to stay here, you have so much potential, you’d do so well here.” 

You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, not wanting to ruin the moment the both of you were sharing with what you both knew, which was that you wouldn’t tell him anything, no matter how much he had grown on you over the short amount of time together.

“It’s the only way youre staying alive, do you not understand?” he said, the rage starting to appear, “I have to kill you, (Y/n).” he spat, pulling away from you completely.

“I cant,” you swallowed, tears prickling in your eyes slightly, “I care for them, I love them, I wont ever put them in harms way, I would die for them.” You said quietly, scared of what he would do next.

“You could have so much here, you could be so much.” He said angrily, slipping his pants back on and throwing his long sleeve over his head, “Think about it today, ill be back tonight and I hope you make the right choice.” He sighed, gripping your arm and pulling you back into the cell, passing you your clothes before shutting the cell door.

“So you only take me out to fuck me?” you rasped, feeling tears fall from your eyes. He didn’t turn to face you, instead he quietly made his way past the cells and out the door, leaving you alone again, this time hurting more than ever.

-

You felt gross, you hated the feelings you felt for the cruel man, during the short amount of time you had really gotten a clue on who he was as a person, the good and the bad parts, but everything intrigued you, he was a complicated person but he was still someone you could see yourself being close with outside of the actual situation you were in.

Hours had passed and you couldn’t lift yourself from the spot on the floor, someone you didn’t care to look up at brought you some food, but you didn’t touch it. You awaited him return so you could tell him that you weren’t going to tell them anything about your group, and then you would be killed.

That was your future…

-

More time had passed, you weren’t sure how much but you could hear someone enter the room, it had to be nighttime already, Carver probably had hoped you would change your mind, but you never would.

The footsteps stopped outside the cell door, and when you looked up you felt as if your eyes had deceived you, as if the lack of food and water had caused hallucinations, but it wasn’t that, your eyes saw true, he came for you…

“Daryl.” You whispered, a single tear falling from your eye. He looked down at you shocked, so you wondered how you appeared, what was the damage that you couldn’t see of yourself. 

He quickly shook himself from his trance, effortlessly breaking the lock off the cell with the handle of his knife and opened the door, quickly pulling you off the ground and into his arms. “(Y/n),” he whispered, “You’re okay now.”

You smiled into his chest, “You came back for me.” Happy tears streamed down your cheeks as you held onto him tightly.

He kissed the top of your head softly before pulling you out of the cell room, your eyes taking in as many details as possible before he pulled you out of the room, you felt as if you were being pulled further and further away from Carver, and it was painful.

You and Daryl were quiet as you sneaked through the hallways of the building, he clearly figured his way around here well and knew how to get you out.

“Almost there.” He muttered, but you could feel your legs start to give way from your own body weight, even with the help of Daryl you couldn’t keep up. You felt something run down your legs and looked down to see some blood on the sweatpants. The plan b you had taken was working fast, giving you strong cramps as well as fatigue. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling you into a small closet.

“I’m fine, I-I just need a second,” you breathed out, leaning against the cold wall.

His eyes looked down and noticed the blood, “What’d they do to you…” he said angrily, his arm helping hold you up steady, “I’m gettin’ you outta here.” He said, lifting you up more and basically carrying all of your weight as he lead you out of the closet. Once you reached the door out of the building he kept a look out for a minute to make sure it was clear and then you both darted for the tall gates, avoiding any attention at the same time, until you reach the place where he was able to sneak through the walls, to where he helped you climb up and over the wall, leading you past the dead, closer and closer to home. But a part of you would miss Carver, and the connection you two had made in the short amount of time spent together.

[nicktremblaywayfu]

Persistence

Prompt : "I'm not sick, I'm only slightly ill. There's a difference. I can handle today."

Warning : Injuries, Blood

Rating : 15+ (no smut)

Author Note : This was a quick ficlet that i did in one sitting. I'd like to explore the alternate story where he was Ammit's avatar but like The Moon Bois did, rather than just being her avatar in one night like in the show. The prompt was randomly generated from here.

---

One major flaw from the power Ammit had bestowed was the lack of healing ability. It was not like she didn't want to, nor she didn't care. That was just how she always had been, a keen fighter. Continuously fighting and beating down her opponent, without having or needing a chance to heal. And so was her avatar. 

It was 2 am the time Arthur finally home from his duty. He was bleeding, bruised, injured. The feelings you had were mixed. Anger, sadness, worries, all into one inside you. He slumped into the sofa, not having much energy to take care of his wounds. You hurried to take warm water and some towels to clean up his wounds. 

"I'm fine, my love. Those wounds would go away within days"  Of course Arthur didn't have the heart to see you worried about him, yet he can not fully lie to you. 

"Sometimes I wish you would care about your injuries even just for one day." You sighed heavily while wiping the blood on his temple

He just smiled at you. His mouth showed the warmest smile, yet his eyes could no longer hide how tired he was. Penance was the perfect word to describe how he saw his wounds. But what was the point of empty punishment ? 

Ammit was just staring in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadow of the unlit part. She was ruthless, that's how the Gods saw her. But there was a reason why Khonshu was the worst ennead for an Avatar, not her. Unlike the old bird, she knew the words of "enough is enough". You didn't like her that very much, but at the same time you didn't particularly hate her. You only talked to her when it was really needed, the rest was you tolerating her existence on your lover's side. She didn't say anything as she was merely an audience as you finally finished and decided to sleep on the couch, alongside already-sleeping Arthur.

You were abruptly awoken with the harsh sound of Arthur coughing, spitting mucus from his throat with blood mixed in it. 

"Go to the bed now, Arthur. Enough of your avatar stuff today." Your voice was a bit firm, decisive as you wanted Arthur to obey.

"I can't. The world needed me to continue our Goddess's judgement." He was persistent with his duty, like usual. 

"Listen to her, Harrow. You know well you couldn't fight with a body like this." The crocodile goddess's voice was loud, enough to startle you. At the very least she was on your side.

"I'm not sick, I'm only slightly ill. There's a difference. I can handle today." He wiped the blood trace on his mouth corner.

"Slightly ill with blood coming from your mouth? Were you doing your job or you wanted to kill yourself?" You hated every time you had to argue with him, but you had no choice. 

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed.

"Very well. I shall rest this morning, but if I'm fine in the afternoon I will continue my duty." He walked to the bedroom, limping with the cane supporting every movement of his leg. 

You sat on the couch, head resting on your hands. You glanced at the goddess, eyes meeting each other. You both knew well he would insist on getting out of bed before the sun set. But what was important is that he got a proper sleep this morning.

[burnt-avocado]

Empty Space 2

Empty Space - Chapter Two

summary: on the night of november 6th, mars experiences something inexplicable. [3.6k]

CW: blood, terror, a baby

series tags: canon divergence slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, memory loss, [REDACTED]  

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Mars

There’s a terrible clatter of cracking ceramic that grates on Mars’ ears. The sound participates in the obnoxious chorus that’s played in the backing track of the night; a broken ashtray follows the spilling of coffee and the burning of burger patties. Earl’s telling a tall tale to the other guests in the diner, voicing over the bustle of the Sunday evening crowd. Mars heaves a sigh and wipes a stray hair from her forehead with the back of her soapy hand. The salt of sweat has puddled in the dip of her philtrum, settled on her upper lip, and she licks it away. A headache is pulsing behind her eyes and the tips of her fingers are burnt on her left hand, but Mars continues to scrub away at the last dish in the overflowing sink. Benny’s Burgers is buzzing with life and Mars is daydreaming of a nap.

After many hours on her feet, the girl is about ready to peel out of the diner at mach speed. There’s only so many dad jokes a teenager can take, and since Benny’s attracts customers of the old man variety, Mars has met her limit twice over. Not to mention the near-constant unprompted comments on Mars’ appearance and not-so-endearing nicknames. ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘honey’ have quickly climbed to the top of Mars’ worst words list. How much longer must I suffer? she asks herself, looking to the clock hanging above the sink. The short hand lies halfway between six and seven. She’d started her shift at eight this morning

Mars twists off the running water and wipes away the citrusy residue of dish cleaner onto her apron, adding another stain to the greasy, white nylon. She turns her back to the wash basin and faces Benny, the large man leaning over his grill. His once white henley has been splattered with grease and sweat stains have conquered the space down his back, he’s flipping a lone patty on the cooktop.

“Hey, Benny?” Mars asks across the small kitchen. She has to raise her voice a bit to come through the noise of the customers.

Her boss twists his head to look at her, “Yeah, kid?” He’s not smiling, but he’s not looking at her unkindly. Benny’s had a long day, too.

The girl picks at a soggy cuticle, not quite meeting Benny’s eyes. “Did I mention I had to leave a bit early?” 

Benny focuses back on his burger, “No, you didn’t.” He scoops the patty onto his spatula and turns opposite the grill to a bun sitting on a white plate. His fingers move quickly as he layers meat, lettuce, tomato and bread. “But I’ll pretend you did.”

“Thanks, Benny—”

“So long as you take the trash on out with you,” Benny cuts in, “and this for your aunt.”

He’s shaking open a brown paper bag, tossing a napkin and then the hamburger in front of him in.

Mars looks out at the gaggle of men trading conversations just outside the kitchen. “Someone’s gonna miss their burger.”

“Eh,” Benny towels off his hands with a rag he’d had draped over his shoulder, “Henry ain’t gonna be too bothered waiting ten extra minutes.” 

Said regular’s voice is then shouting into the kitchen, “What about me?” And the clink of a glass bottle hitting vinyl flooring. “Ah, shit.”

Benny shakes his head, “Man, I am not cleaning up after you again!” There’s some warm admonishment from the other regulars and teasing laughs from those that sit in the far corners of the diner. Benny moves to cross through the swinging doors to the hallway, but stops and turns back to face Mars, holding out the brown bag of burgery goodness.

“You make sure you get home alright,” he says, sternly. “And you tell your aunt I said ‘hello.’”

“Yessir,” Mars says, nodding. The corners of her mouth tug upwards, too, as she takes the takeout. Big softy. 

Benny throws back Mars one last nod, and she’s untying the laces of her apron. Her fingers are quick but clumsy, little touches reminding her of the reddened, plasticky skin at her fingertips. She collects her book bag from its hanging place, replacing it with the oily garment to be collected on her next shift, and wraps herself in her sherpa-lined corduroy coat. The brown to-go bag fits snugly among the loose notes and pens of her bag. At the back door are three large, plastic trash bags stretched thin and tied tight waiting to be thrown out just below a corkboard of postcards and polaroids of her, Benny, and the regulars like Henry and Earl. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, when she’s twisting and angling her right hand to hold two of the three bags at once. Fingers, don’t fail me now! They quiver as she’s kicking open the back door—perhaps a bit more eagerly than she intended—Mars aims straight for the metal bins outside and heaves a sigh of relief once the bags of trash are no longer in her grip. 

Finally, Mars thinks, home, and she’s pulling her walkman from the depths of her bag. Mars is halfway down the road by the time she has her headphones blaring the Mirage album on tape. 

The sun’s low in the sky for the autumn, casting Mars’ path home in low pink light. The street beneath her feet is decorated in red and orange, the once crunchy maple leaves now made damp by the morning’s rainfall and forced flat against the asphalt by car tires. She walks to the beat of Wish You Were Here, a crisp breeze painting her cheeks a blush of carnelian. The tree branches are dancing and the girl knows that they’re making that sound of perfectly tuned wind through brush. Mars revels in the sight of her breath appearing in puffs of vapor, just like one of Dustin’s dragons, and licks at her chapping lips. It’s a pretty enough evening, she thinks. Clouds like cotton balls in the sky, each painted in the lilacs and peaches of sunset.

Mars thinks it’s pleasant, beautiful even. She’s feeling the stress of the day fall off her body and leaving with the wind. Mars looks ahead to where she pictures her warm bed and a newly opened stack of flash cards awaiting her. The little cards being for her project in third period English Lit. With Steve. About Michel de Montaigne and something about a bunch of essays. Mars doesn’t quite trust that she would’ve remembered the assignment at this point if her partner hadn’t made such an effort two days ago. So I don’t forget, Mars had repeated for herself over and over. In fact, she’d been so caught up in picturing the boy’s smile that there was no room for remembering the history test scheduled for fifth period, or even the fixing of Dustin’s bike that night (and those notes on the fridge, Mars begrudgingly admitted, helped her avoid a pissed off pubescent boy). The warm brown of Steve’s eyes, light like a flickering flame, had impressed themselves on her mind, swiping up any dignity that remained and sent her into daydreaming. But she couldn’t bring herself to be bothered, and was even happy. And when that headache she’d felt earlier returns with a vengeance, stabbing at her temples and scoring behind her eyes, she can almost pretend it's not there.

I wish you were here, holding me tight

If you were near, you’d make it alright

I wish you were here

‘Cause I feel like—

Pain. It’s white hot on her hippocampus, sending licks of flame into her jaw and spine. Mars’ ears are ringing and the world is spinning like the Gravitron as she clutches at her head. Bile threatens to climb up her throat and she can barely feel the rip of her knees hitting the ground. “God, what—fuck!” Stars are flashing brightly in the black of her clenched shut eyes. 

Mars feels like she’s dying.

And when she loses consciousness, fear is all she knows.

✦✧ ✦✧ ✦✧

A man in white. Needles. Chess pieces. Eight spheres. Ink. A rainbow. A girl. Blood.

They repeat in flashes, bright and fast, through a layer of hazy interference. Someone’s screaming.

A man in white. Needles. Chess pieces. Eight spheres. Ink. A rainbow. A girl. Blood.

A man in white. Needles. Chess pieces. Eight spheres, eight spheres, eight spheres…

Eight spheres are floating, spinning on an axis. Four tiny, four bigger. There’s focus on the small crimson ball near the center of the whirling storm. A feeling of want reverberates through.

“—what do y—” Static.

“—stop the—” Screams.

There’s the feeling of falling, then the feeling of sinking, and finally being swallowed. Light comes through the unending like sunlight between tears in cloth. It’s rapidly approaching, ripping and clawing until it’s all there is. 

White walls, white laminate floors. Cold metal tables and even colder chairs. A heavy weight from an invisible burden.

They’re watching you.

What?

Do what they want. 

I don’t understand—

Sound is sluggish, delayed and coming from underwater. The hum of electricity, the buzz of an air duct, the sobbing of a dying man. 

He’s there now, hands cuffed behind his back and ankles shackled to the floor. Blood’s pouring out of a wound in his hairline, there’s tears and mucus diluting it into a pale red concoction down his chin. His weeping is cut apart by coughs of clotted red, white overalls painted a sickening shade of wet crimson. He’s reflected in the glass on the wall to his left, his pitiful sounds bouncing off the walls. 

There’s highly-pitched feedback that peaks, scraping at the walls and sends the man into a fresh round of wails. The languid pulse of his heart can be heard in every corner within these walls, fear hangs in the air like humidity.

The feedback cuts off, a voice replaces it from beyond the intercom.

“Begin,” it says. Commands. 

Do what they want.

What do I do?

“Please, n-no!” comes off his bloody tongue. “Can’t you just let me go? I won’t te-ell anyone, I swear!”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” The intercom speaks once more.

Choked weeping, stunted thrashing against the restraints. No eyes, but pleading. “Don’t do this, kid! C-can you, just—”

Do what they want.

Look at me—

—No eyes. Louder sobs.

Look at me!

His lips tremble, a sputter of red renewing the trickle downwards. His chin tilts down.

Look at me.

Eyes. The whites no longer exist, blood vessels burst and lids pink with tears. Just pale gray outside a fading light to chase; to reaching; to grasp; to force; to yank. 

And the light isn’t from the fluorescents any longer, but from a sun bruised purple. There’s no more slight noise, only a cacophony of voice. Giggles, crying, humming, moaning, screaming. Faces flit about the air, young, old, pretty, horrifying. There’s putrid stinks and mouth-watering scents, flavors that burn and tastes that soothe. A pang of betrayal is stabbing deep somewhere, along with a terrible fear mounted by despair—but there’s something else. It’s stark and cutting against the cold chaos.

It’s warmth. Comfort. Like a shadow looming over the tangled mess inside. 

Do what they want.

Right there. It’s vivid, far clearer than what came before:

The tiny chortle of a young baby boy, not even a year old.

No! 

He rests upon his mother’s breast. She’s beautiful.

Stop!

They’re gone every moment after. 

Please—

Burnt. Bloodied. Gone. In any life after.

It's finally quiet. An all-encompassing silence. All under the purple sun lie forfeit, ripe for the plucking and the peeling.

“Good.” It’s the intercom, far, far away. “Please, continue.”

Do what they want.

It’s simpler now, to read the threads. Easier. Not so jumbled, not so messy. The root is uncorked like a message in a bottle. And just as easily, it’s rent asunder. 

‘This is the solar system,’ Paul told the girl. She was—is—so tiny in her hospital gown. He’s got eight styrofoam balls stuck on toothpicks through cardstock. Debby had told him it looked like a third-grade science project. His beautiful wife’s just supportive like that. 

‘See? We’ve got all of these up in our sky! But they’re very far away from here.’ 

She’s furrowing her brow. ‘Far?’

‘Yes! And they’re spinning around the sun, just like us. Here on Earth.’ Paul pointed to the third sphere from the center. He’d painted it a sloppy mix of blue and green. 

But her focus was on the next ball, red and brown and splotchy. He had let little Cameron place his tiny baby hands, drenched in spaghetti sauce, all over this particular styrofoam planet. Paul thinks it was amazing.  

‘That one,’ the girl muttered and pointed. 

‘Oh, Mars? It’s after Earth, and the closest of all the other planets.’ 

‘It’s happy.’ She smiled.

He smiled, too. And his smile grew when she lifted each sphere into the air without so much as a touch. These kids are really something else, he thought. They don’t deserve to be locked away.

‘You could be happy, too,’ he said, without thinking. ‘Outside.’ Stupid, stupid!

‘Paul,’ the cold voice of Dr. Brenner had been like a punch to the gut. Paul was caught. ‘Would you like to step into my office?’

The tiny planets fell to his feet.

The scene becomes less clear, it’s trickling away.

‘The safety—children has always been—utmost importance, Mr. Ya—’ Flashes of tiny, bald heads

It’s less of a vision now, more of a suggestion.

‘—you—we cannot let you leave—’ A lab in the woods.

And it’s final, watching the thread unravel and fade. Like a plant pulled at the root, it’s dying.

The purple sun fades quickly to black.

No more eyes.

His have shut by now. The man’s sitting limply in the cold metal chair. His reflection sits just as limply. His heart beats much quieter now, but there’s not enough energy to focus.

“Wonderful job,” the voice praises, dripping unknown sharp.

Not succumbing to exhaustion is becoming increasingly difficult. So difficult, in fact, that there’s no point in fighting it. 

And as the white walls and white floors fade, cold metal table and chairs disappear, any sounds are rendered quiet, the man’s eyes still linger against the unending.

✦✧ ✦✧ ✦✧

Mars jolts awake, breathing in gulps of air. Her eyelids blink heavily, blinking away dark spots in her vision. It’s dark now, though there’s a sliver of purple lingering on the edges of the sky. What the fuck happened? she thinks. How long have I been out? There’s warmth coagulating at her top lip, and Mars swears her ears tickle. A throbbing is punishing her head something fierce. Mars’ knees feel achy and raw, and she sees her jeans have been torn open over the skin. Her headphones are no longer on her head, discarded but hanging by the cord now tangled around her neck and in her hair. It feels as if she was kicked by a horse, a big one.

She’s picking herself up off the chilled asphalt and rubbing at her ears when Mars spots the blood on her coat sleeve. 

“Fuck.” Another swipe below her nose. The stain spreads on russet corduroy. 

Mars is trying her hardest to remember how she got on the ground. There’s a sliver of memory, tiny and dim behind that pounding in her head. A vague picture of a planet of spaghetti sauce.

She’s trying her hardest not to cry, tears pricking at her lower lash line. A bubble is building in her chest, a temptation of teary release. Everything hurts and between her ribs an unknown despair hangs like lichen. Call Aunt Claudia, she’s telling herself. Mars knows she couldn’t have been farther than a few minutes from Benny’s, the Henderson house at least an hour walk at a brisk pace. And it’s back to Benny’s Burgers she goes, wincing and sucking back sobs. Fuck, why am I crying right now? Stop!

The diner’s closed, but the lights are still on. A familiar old Buick sits outside the front of the building. Mars is a little relieved to know she won’t have to face a crowd and tell them she knocked herself out, but more relieved to know Benny hasn’t left. She’s banging at the front door, calling out for Benny when the man swings the door open. He looks confused, and a little annoyed, for a moment, but the expression is quickly replaced by wide eyes and raised brows.

“What the shit—” 

“I fell.” Mars interrupts. There’s a waver in her voice and a quiver in her bottom lip. “I think I knocked my head pretty bad, passed out and everything.”

Benny opens the door wide and motions for the girl to step in. “Siddown. I’m calling Claudia.” And he does, walking straight to the phone and dialing the Henderson house.

Mars does as told, finding a seat at a newly cleaned table in the middle of the diner. She’s staring at her fingers, blinking away the moisture threatening to spill from her eyes. I don’t want to cry in front of Benny. She begins to pick at a raw bit of skin on her finger left from washing dishes for hours. It’s just the right amount of pain to distract her from the raging headache she has and the embarrassment she feels. 

Benny is watching her from the phone, and Mars knows he won’t have to wait long for an answer. “Claudia, it’s Benny…” Mars goes to hold her head in her hands, covering her eyes tightly. Like she can physically hold the tears in. “Yeah, she’s here. You able to come and get ‘er?

“I think it’s best you just come now and we talk when you get here,” he’s supplying as gently as Benny can. “Thanks, Claudia... Yeah. Buh-bye.”

He’s hung up the rotary and proceeds to fish out a bag of frozen burger meat from the freezer. It’s wrapped loosely with a paper towel when he’s offering it to Mars, who avoids his gaze. 

His arm is outstretched, “You got any bumps need icing? Head injuries can get nasty.” 

Mars shakes her head. “No, no,” there’s a catch in her throat that she coughs to clear, “I’m just a little spooked is all.”

Benny’s looking at her with doubt, his tongue prodding at his cheek. “Uh-huh,” he moves to hand the girl the paper towel alone, damp from tiny melts of ice. “Wanna at least get that blood off?”

“Y-yeah, thanks.” Benny doesn’t look on as she’s dragging it, near scrubbing, the remains of rust from her face and neck.

He doesn’t continue to pry, and Mars is thankful. He busies himself with wiping down a few more tables in the passing minutes. Mars racks her mind for any semblance of an explanation other than her being a clutz, rolling the soiled paper towel in her hand. She retraces her steps. I left Benny’s, was listening to my Walkman and still had the headache from earlier, then... then? Mars thinks hard, but all she can see in her mind’s eye is a crusty meatball planet floating in space. The effort sends a pulse of pain into straight into her occipital bone, and she relents. I fell. I remember my knees on the ground, must’ve hit my head on the way down. Or something.

God, what a night.

Aunt Claudia’s bursting through the diner door in record time, and she walks in with a zest only a mother knows. There’s first a burst of warmth that fills Mars’ chest upon seeing her aunt, but it’s followed by a dip in self-esteem.

“Oh my gosh, sweetie!” Claudia’s got her hands prodding at Mars’ face, “What happened to you?”

“It’s really stupid, auntie,” and there’s the bubble threatening to pop again. “Kind of humiliating, really.”

Her aunt is shaking her head back and forth, “Are you in any pain, are you bleeding anywhere?”

“Not anymore, auntie—”

“Anymore!” and Claudia spies the bloodied coat sleeve and tissue. She’s gone pale, and Mars fears she’ll pass out from anxiety.

Mars takes her cue to give a comforting hand to her aunt, holding onto her upper arm as a brace and stands up. “I had a bit of a nosebleed, is all—“ don’t think about the spaghetti, “—I bumped my head pretty hard. Took a catnap on the road!” She’s forcing a big smile to her face. Mars is pleading with her eyes.

Mars knows her aunt’s reluctant to accept but places a warm hand on the palm of Mar’s cheek. “Oh, honey.” The older woman turns to Benny, who’s taken to leaning against an over-wiped table. “Thanks for calling, Benny.”

“It’s no trouble, Claudia, ma’am,” and he’s sending her a warm smile. There’s still an inkling of doubt in his eyes when he looks to Mars one last time, but he says nothing. 

“Well, then. Let’s get you home!” And Mars is following Claudia into the Volvo. It’s like clockwork, Mars jumping in beside her. 

Something dawns on Mars when she’s setting her bag down at her feet. “Um, auntie?”

“Hm, sweetie?” The older woman pauses before turning the key in ignition.

“U-um...” Mars can’t help it, a tear leaks down her cheek. She moves to pull out the brown paper bag from the depths of her book bag. “Benny wanted me to give this to you tonight, but I think it’s c-cold.” Another tear, trailing down the opposite cheek. 

A soft smile overtakes Aunt Claudia’s face. She says nothing, grasping the sack from the teen’s hand and nodding in thanks. It’s put to rest in the back seat. Mars’ aunt begins driving them back home but reaches to clasp the teen’s left hand in her own, one on the steering wheel. Mars looks at their intertwined fingers, like a braided chain of warm brass and pale white gold. Brown and white. 

It’s quiet, for the most part, as Claudia drives. The headache plaguing Mars is only aggravated by the pressure in her sinuses and tears, which makes me want to cry more, which is making my head hurt—and that’s a spiral Mars stops herself from going down, instead, taking deep but shaky breaths. Her free hand clutches at frayed denim on her knee. The sun’s gone to sleep by this point. 

It’s been a long fucking day. Ten hours straight at the diner and a freak accident trying to get home? Give me a break, Mars says to herself. I just want to get home to rest and work on quoting the shit out of Michel de Montaigne. There was much to do by tomorrow, but she’d promised that young man with the perfect hair.

“While you were at work,” Claudia cuts through Mars’ train of thought, “a boy called the house.”

Mars’ eyes light up. Speaking of.

There’s a glance at Mars that Claudia doesn’t try to hide when she says, “Said his name was Steve, just calling to remind you about your project due tomorrow? Did you remember to get it done?” she finishes.

Mars squeezes Aunt Claudia’s hand. There’s a beat where Mars doesn’t answer, but a smile breaks itself wide open. “Yeah.

“Yeah, I remembered.”

[hr-johnson-tiles]

What are the Methods to Remove Cement Stains from Floor Tiles

When renovating your home, it is common to get stains of cement, mortar, or paint on floor tiles in the bedroom and living room. Cement stains are the worst and become very difficult to remove if not cleaned on time. Removing cement stains from floor tiles can be challenging and require specific treatments. The sooner you remove these stains, the easier they are to clean.

Cement stains can destroy the entire look of your designer floor tiles. The only way to avoid this is to look for the best stain-removal methods and work on the same as soon as possible. 

Out of various methods and tips available on the internet, here are some most effective ways to remove cement stains from floor tiles:

Method 1: Use a Sandpaper or Scraper

Cement stains become stubborn if not cleaned properly on time. A sandpaper or scraper might not work for rough surfaces, but you can use it to remove cement stains from smooth surfaces like glossy finish tiles. Even if the entire stain doesn’t get away with sandpaper, try to remove as much residue as possible using it. 

Method 2: Remove Stains with Vinegar

Vinegar helps to loosen the cement stains from the tile surface and the cleaning process becomes much easier. You can remove tough cement stains from tiles using a few simple materials that are easily available in your house. Using white vinegar is one of the easiest methods to remove cement stains as it requires very less effort.

Materials Required: White Vinegar, A scraper or flathead screwdriver, Scrubbers, Sponges, and soft clothes or towels. 

Detailed Steps: Follow the below-mentioned steps to remove stains from floor tiles using vinegar:

Pour a moderate amount of vinegar into a bowl.

Put the entire soft cloth or towel in the bowl filled with vinegar. Leave it there for a few minutes, so that it soaks vinegar properly.

Take the cloth out of the bowl and place it over the cement stain. Make sure to cover the entire stain properly.

Leave the cloth there for 2-3 hours for the best results. You can reapply the vinegar if it gets evaporated in the meanwhile.

Remove the cloth and check if the cement stain has loosened its grip from the surface of the floor tile.

To remove the stain completely, scrub it using a scrubbing pad.

Rinse with clean water after the stains are removed.

Method 3: Use Phosphoric Acid for Stubborn Cement Stains

If the cement stains are stubborn and the vinegar solution does not work, you can opt for phosphoric acid. Make sure to take all the necessary safety precautions. You can remove cement stains using phosphoric acid as follows:

Remove as much cement residue as possible using a flathead screwdriver or sandpaper.

Take a small amount of phosphoric acid and apply it directly over the stained area. 

Once the stain loses its grip, remove it using a scrub.

Wipe the tile clean with water.

Choose Stain-Resistant Vitrified Tiles for Easy Cleaning

You can avoid the headache of removing cement stains from floor tiles by taking necessary measures at the time of construction or renovation of your home. If you are getting the roof or other parts of a room renovated, you can cover the floor tiles using large polyethene.

This will keep your tiles safe from all the stain-causing materials, such as cement, paint, etc. Choosing the right tiles is also important. The vitrified tiles by H&R Johnson are resistant to stains and scratches. These tiles have an extra smooth surface, which makes them easy to clean and remove stains. 

[sicjimin]

ooo okay maybe some yoonjin? they recently found out that jin is carrying twins. it’s sparks up new anxiety for him since they hadn’t been expecting a baby at all but now two?? i’d assume the stress makes him more sick then he’d usually be. morning/day sickness. he works from home maybe or yoon is the only one who works? idk whatever you want! if you can add some cuddling that’d be nice :( make him feel better

— Double Trouble —

tw : mpreg

a.n : i changed it a bit, i hope you dont mind ... to seokjin found out his bad morning sickness caused by he's carrying twins .. hope this still up to your liking, anon, thank you for requesting as well. i hope i do justice to your cute prompt !

Seokjin's arm shakes as it steady himself when he bends far—complying his body as a quite huge wave of his stomach content pour out of his plump lips. He pants, opening his eyes in a daze, and immediately meet with a mess below him—his white toilet that he just cleaned up yesterday, now coated with barely digested food.

He coughs. His left hand moving around his pregnant stomach, assessing it, if it's okay for him to move.

He pats it gently, and when he doesn't feel like gagging—he quickly flushes the toilet, and walk to the sink.

"Jinnie ..?"

Seokjin clears his throat, "Wait, love", he answers, before ducked his head down to rinse his mouth and wipe every proof that indicates he just threw up. It's no use actually, as the person he didn't want to know about his "messed-up and gross" side, already standing in front of the door—waiting for it to be opened.

Seokjin swirls the water in his mouth for a good seconds, before spits it on the sink. He dabs the towel gently against his face—his red-rimmed eyes hasn't gone yet.

"Yoongi ..", he whines as soon as he opened the door, then letting his head rest on the younger crook, even it's caused him to be in a quite weird position. His boyfriend is too small.

Yoongi wraps his arms around the older, automatically rubs his palm against his arched back, "Feel better?"

"No ..", Seokjin mumbles, "It lessen a bit, but i still feel like i might hurl again anytime soon", he groans.

Yoongi frowns worriedly, "Let's go to the doctor, you have been feeling sick for 3 days .."

"This maybe just a stomach bug", Seokjin brushes it off as he peels himself and walk to the bed, resting his exhausted body there. He sighs in relief when his back hit the soft bed.

"Just a check up, Jinnie .. maybe you also can get something for your nausea", Yoongi insists, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Tomorrow .. if i still feel bad tomorrow then i will go", Seokjin promises. "Doctor is overrated, Yoon, this is just stomachache or something, i will take a nap and i will feel fine", he adds, curling himself small before tugging the blanket close, willing himself to fall asleep.

Yoongi scoffs, patting the older covered legs before he heads up to prepare dinner, "You're so stubborn, Jinnie"

***

Turns out, Seokjin's vomiting escapades not only going bad the next day, but Worst. He had woken up at 3 AM, tossing off his dinner he just disgest few hours earlier. All of it came out in such aggresive and continuous wave—that it even woke up Yoongi with how loud he was being. After that, he was back to face the sink during breakfast—his stomach completely rejecting the small toast Yoongi have made not even 10 minutes after the last bite entering his body.

"Jinnie .. there's no way you could go to work today, let's go to the doctor instead. You were sick ..", Yoongi says as he rubs the older back, then handing him glass of water after Seokjin straighten his body and run on the tap to drained his vomit.

"But i have important meeting today, Yoongichi", Seokjin breathes out, feeling exhausted despite its only 6 AM. "And it's only zoom meeting, i will be fine!"

"Can you even present anything in this state?", Yoongi rolls his eyes, "What time is the meeting finished?"

Seokjin shrugs, "12, i suppose", he takes a sip before he let himself slump on the stool—trying to regain his energy back. "I really can't skip this one meeting, love .. the shareholders are a bit difficult to match the schedule with"

Yoongi sits beside him, "Okay then .. but i will pick you after, at 12, then we go to the doctor", he tries to compromise, "I'm just worried hyung. You have been feeling sick for 4 days straight, what if it's something serious?"

Seokjin hums, "Stops the frown, you are going to get wrinkles faster!", he chuckles lightly, "Fine, baby. If that's gonna make you less worry"

***

Yoongj left to check some of his works in the office not long after, and Seokjin has been facing his laptop for an hour, waiting for the meeting to ends. He slowly leans to his seat, sliding his hand under his shirt to rub his stomach that starts brewing nausea again. He swallows, occasionally pressing his fist to stiffles a burp—until it's time for him to do presentation.

He pulls himself together, and starts doing his presentation, talking slides after slides, until he feels dizziness hits him—causing him to lost his train of thoughts and pauses midway.

"Seokjin-ssi, are you okay? Why did you stop?"

"Ah..", Seokjin spaces out, "I'm sorry, the connection is a bit fuzzy here. So as i say—", he continues the presentation, ignoring how liquid slowly creeps up to his throat, and how his chest starts tighten with pressure. 2 slides in, almost nearing the end, when Seokjin's body decided to disrupts him.

"From this slides we can see that—hurgh", Seokjin slaps his hand over his mouth. Eyes widen as he feels embarassment rush on him and completely mortified with how he basically gag with his mic and camera on. Everyone sees it and hear it.

But he didn't get a time to ponder over it before he gag again, more productive this time as his mouth filled with vomit, and saliva starts soaks over his palm. He quickly fumbles with his laptop, turning off his camera and mic before he run to the bathroom.

He barely made it—there's a trail of vomit fall to the floor, and on the toilet seat as his stomach can't wait until he's in proper position. Seokjin let his hand go, blobs of vomit that been pooling in his mouth immediately fall below. His brain just now registered how disgusting the sensation was to hold back vomit in your mouth—it churns his stomach and Seokjin belches wetly, a more aggresive wave pouring out of him. Seokjin gasps, before bending even further, complying his stomach that wracked with a big stream of vomit, and loud gag.

Seokjin shut his eyes as his ears ringing, and his heart thumping loudly against his ribs. He hissed in pain, pressing his palm over his stomach, willing it to fasten the process. He coughs, lips quivering before it makes an "O", and water with tinge of yellow bile exits from it.

He throws up 2 more round after that, before ending it with a harsh dry heave that hurts his throat and chest. He pants, heaving for breath, as he flushes the toilet. He let his hand that still covered with vomit hangs low beside him, as he rest his head on the toilet seat—feeling lightheaded and gross.

"Yoongi .. can you go home now? Let's go to the doctor, i'm not feeling well", Seokjin types after he managed to muster his energy back, cleaned up himself along with the mess he make in the hallway, as typing out a long paragraph of apologies to his manager and coworker in that meeting—then curled himself on the bed. Letting his body overtaken with dizziness and nausea. He ignores the ping of notifications—know that it's Yoongi replying. He just gonna wait for him to shows up.

***

"Jinnie!", Yoongi frantically calls once he stepped in their apartment. It was too silent. He sees laptop on the living room, and paper scattered around it. But there's no trace of his boyfriend. He tiptoes around, heading to their bedroom, and sighing in relief when he sees a lump under the blanket, and Seokjin's hair peeks from it.

"Baby ..", he pats Seokjin cheeks, and it immediately wakes him as he's a light sleeper to begin with. "I'm home .. are you okay?"

Seokjin scrunches his face, before he groans, and fumbles to get out from the blanket. Yoongi frowns, watching Seokjin slams the bathroom door before— "Uurrkk"

Yoongi's eyes widen. He scrambles on his feet and trudge in to the bathroom. "Hyung ..", he calls, wrapping his arms around the older, as he peeked at the toilet. It's still clear. Seokjin sways forward, gagging again, but only bring a trickles of saliva in there.

"Nauseous?", Yoongi hums, rubbing his back that feels hot against his hand. Seokjin nods wordlessly, keeping his head hangs low, and his lips parted, as few seconds later he's back gagging emptily.

"Yoongi ..", Seokjin moans in pain after few minutes of dry heaving. "I feel so sick", he croakes out before a burp escapes him, and to his surprise, it brings mouthful of water out of him. Seokjin propped himself against the toilet seat, gripping the rim tightly as he shook with burps again, a bigger mouthful of water splashing to the bowl.

"Sshh .. let it out", Yoongi murmurs beside him as Seokjin brings up water, wave after wave. "You're empty hyung ..", he points out.

"I am", Seokjin closes his eyes as he sits back, sniffling, then flushes the toilet. "But i keep have this urge to throw up ... i don't know, i feel horrible", he mumbles tiredly.

"Go clean up hyung, and change, let's go to the doctor", Yoongi suggests, tucking the older long hair behind his ears and wipes sweats that sticking some of it away, before helping him to stand up.

He waits in the living room, anxiously tidying up Seokjin's paper until the older emerges from the room. "I'm ready"

***

The rides to the hospital is rough for Seokjin. He keeps feeling like he's going to throw up during those 20 minutes drives—motions of the car making his dizziness increases. He's sure he's breaking cold sweats. So it's understandable when he immediately burps up puke once Yoongi parks the car. White vomit splatters to the pavement below. Seokjin sniffles, tightening his grip on the car door before he pukes more.

"Hyung .. you're so sick", Yoongi murmurs worriedly beside him, holding him steady as he vomits. "Do you have water, Yoongichi?", Seokjin croakes out after he's done. Rubbing his nose with his hand. Yoongi quickly rummages his hand and hands him one. He looks at the older attentively as the latter swirls it on his mouth and spits it. "I'm sorry", Seokjin mumbles then, hopping from the car. "I must be gross for you"

Yoongi slaps him lightly, "What are you saying?"

They sit in the waiting room, waiting for 2 more numbers before their turn. Seokjin rests his head on Yoongi's shoulder, fumbling with his hand on his hold to distract him from anxiety and lingering nausea.

"What do you think could be my sickness, Yoongichi", Seokjin breaks the silence between them.

"Stomach bug"

"I don't have fever though"

"Food poisoning"

"I always ate your cooking, or mine", Seokjin sighs, "I will still love you, Yoongichi even i have some deadly dis—"

"Hyung shut up!", Yoongi hisses, "You're fine!"

And before Seokjin continues his antics, the nurse calls him.

It's his judgement turn.

***

"I hate you", Seokjin mumbles, after he spits, glaring at Yoongi that dares to chuckles while he walks in and sit besides him.

"What did i do wrong?", Yoongi innocently asks as he places the medicine and water on the table. Seokjin didn't get to muster his complaints as he jolts with gag again, his dinner slosh to the bag he's holding.

Yoongi rubs his back, patiently waits until his boyfriend is done, before quietly helps to wipes his face and dispose the soiled bag. "Take your medicine, hyung"

Seokjin grunts, still glaring at him as he takes the medicine. Grimacing when his throat almost rejecting it—he counts to ten, taking a deep inhale and exhales, with his hand pressing his lips tight, before he deemed it safe and lay on the bed. "I hate you", he says again, gaining a laugh for Yoongi, that already lay beside him.

Seokjin scoots closer, resting his head on Yoongi's chest as the younger plays with his hair. "What did i do wrong, hyungie?", he teases.

"My dinner is gone because of you! And so is my breakfast and lunch and—", Yoongi places a quick peck on his lips, shutting him up, before Seokjin yelps, "I just puked, that's gross Yoongi!"

"Stop being so feisty", Yoongi chuckles, "Is it because of the twins? One of them must be grumpy!"

"Like you", Seokjin scoffs. Yoongi squeezes him tighter.

"I'm sorry though, i don't mean to get twins in the first try"

Seokjin rolls his eyes, "I don't feel sincerity in there"

Yoongi shrugs, "I hope they won't give you too much hard time", he moves his hand to rub Seokjin's stomach that still flat. "Don't worry, i will keep rubbing your back"

"They already make me throw up my dinner, Yoon", Seokjin snorts, "You better. You're the one who make me like this"

[offtorivendell]

Skincare routine?? I know some of it, but I want all the deets

To be fair it's not really interesting. It's more a very long and convoluted story haha, but I'll be brief¹ ish².

TL,DR: acne + sensitive skin is a fun combo, and less is more, imo.

I was wrong.

Very wrong.

I've always had sensitive skin, but adult/cystic acne hit me hard after I changed my birth control in the second half of my 20s. Most acne products I tried were too harsh on my skin - I've reacted badly even to "sensitive" products and had to run back to the makeup shop after ten minutes for a wipe to remove whatever it was I'd tried and still ended up with a layer or two of skin burnt off and bumps all over my face for a few weeks - so while the benzoyl peroxide or salicylic acid etc may have worked for others, for me they just destroyed my moisture barrier and left me with acne AND extremely irritated skin -> worse acne than I had to begin with.

After a year, I went to a dermatologist - cystic acne isn't just a knock to your self esteem, it can actually hurt - and the topical clindamycin helped a bit, but it wasn't enough. The oral antibiotics I was prescribed just made me vomit (hooray, new-found allergy) and the differin gel made me peel like crazy, as we've established my skin had no moisture barrier left.

Eventually, after maybe another year, I tried one of those online prescription delivery services for skin concerns, because I was desperate and figured why the fuck not? I couldn't even wear scarves in winter because they hurt the cysts, and I couldn't cover the acne with makeup, because it just highlighted everything and made my face look ten times worse. I'd tried everything else, nothing worked, and I was miserable.

The prescription worked.

Honestly I cried at one point, I was so relieved. When you have awful cystic acne, you feel gross (or I did, anyway), as if you are being judged for a lack of hygiene when you probably put more effort into keeping your skin clean than most people out there. 😅 It took a wee bit over 6 months, but it eventually cleared up by about 90% (the last 10% healed as the scarring and red marks etc faded). Obviously cystic acne is far from the worst thing out there, but it's still not fun, and some of the looks and questions from strangers - "have you tried drinking ACV?!" - get old quickly.

So, what worked for me back then?

A super duper gentle face wash, no exfoliants or anything else fancy.

The cream I was prescribed was really gentle, too, with small doses of clindamycin, azelaic acid and zinc pyrithione. Once a day.

A light moisturiser over summer, with SPF, or a richer moisturiser over winter, also with SPF.

What works for me now, a few years later?

I still use a gentle face wash - 'La Roche Posay hydrating gentle cleanser' - once a day (or twice if I'm wearing makeup). If not, I use a microfiber towel and water to wash my face before bed. As much as I'd love to steam myself in the shower, too much washing irritates my face in the long run.

I tried a slightly different formulation from the same prescription service for 6 months, with retinol instead, but I was always slightly peeling, my skin never got used to it, so I'm back on the original formula, once a day, and my skin is still clear barring the occasional hormonal pimple.

Over winter I'll add in a serum to boost the hyaluronic acid, because I get very dry very quickly. I really like the 'Intraceuticals' brand, though they aren't cheap, but one bottle lasts me 6 ish months, so it's not awful and I'm happy to splurge.

Currently liking 'The Ordinary Natural Moisturising Factors + HA' over summer, or 'Embryolisse Lait Creme Concentre' for winter.

Neither of those moisturisers have SPF, so I use IT Cosmetics CC cream with SPF 50+ for the day and/or Bare Minerals SPF 25 year round, because when you grow up in Australia you learn not to fuck with sun exposure. If I need a normal/untinted sunblock for my face, 'Cancer Council' brand for sensitive skin is good (and I use their regular mineral sunblock for the rest of my body, too). If I'm going out at night, I use a Charlotte Tilbury foundation, which doesn't have any SPF but I still love it. I've been okay with other mineral sunblocks, but some of them leave a white cast even on my pale skin, which isn't ideal.

I tried 'Dr Dennis Gross's Alpha Beta Exfoliating Body Treatment' wipes - I think we spoke about them a while back? 😅 - and they're good! A bit pricey, but luckily I don't need to use them constantly. Still, bacne sucks over summer.

It's not skincare, but skincare adjacent: in terms of makeup, I don't wear a lot, but I like Glossier (mascara, brows and blush cream), Charlotte Tilbury (foundation, eye shadow, blush powder, bronzer, mascara and lippy), Bare Minerals (mineral veil finishing powder and eye shadow), Stila (colour correcting primer and eyeliner). And paw paw balm for lips, of course lol. I tend not to be all that adventurous once I've found something that works, for obvious reasons.

So basically, I do the following:

AM

Wash/cleanse

+ HA serum in winter

Moisturiser + sunblock (then maybe makeup)

PM

Wash/cleanse

Prescription cream, + HA serum in winter

Moisturiser only

So yeah, no 27 step beauty regimen for me, because firstly I can't be arsed, and secondly, chances are I'd react to something and spend a month babying my skin back to baseline. I'd love to be one of those people who can use all natural skincare or try almost anything once, but unfortunately it never works.

Stay tuned for me spending my time and money figuring out how to fight the inevitable fine lines and wrinkles without retinol. 😂

Weirdly specific asks.