#i had some problems but they are very pretty

[gallusrostromegalus]

In the latest installment of me Terrorizing Medical Professionals, I got my Wisdom Teeth extracted because one decided to be an asshole and the other 3 were pending assholery, and demonstrated to my dentist that it's entirely possible to out-metabolize Ketamine if you start moving ASAP and also have a freakishly powerful liver.

So yesterday I had my one-month Checkup. It went pretty great, and the dentist asked if any part of my mouth was bothering me.

"Yeah, there's a sharp bit of bone coming out through the side from the extraction in my lower right jaw. The bone spur itself doesn't hurt, but it keeps cutting my tongue, so can you just pull it?" "Oh. Sure! Let me go get everything to do that." she said, and went to go get the tools for the extraction.

...Then there was some kind of confusion at the front desk I could overhear, with someone showing up with an urgent problem and they had to juggle the available staff, so she came back a bit later with the Pliers, said something about something taking "long enough" and went in.

It came out in two pieces, and the most discomfort I had was like, a 3/10 from the extraction itself, but mostly from keeping my mouth open.

...About halfway through, the Hygienist came in, apologizing for being late getting back from the front desk.

"Oh good, you have her the Novocaine!" the hygienist sighs with relief.

"What?" Said my dentist.

"What?" said the hygienist.

Both of them turn to look at the very full syringe on the tool table behind me.

"Honestly this is bothering me way less than the shot would." I said, lightly dribbling blood, and they both turn to me in horror.

"I really hate needles." I explain.

"What." says the dentist.

"Woah." Says the hygienist. "You would have done great in like, The Civil War."

Which is probably the funniest thing anyone's every said about my dangerously high pain tolerance.

Anyway, it was a one-off issue, and a non-issue for me because I think a normal person would have stopped her, so I go back in August if she doesn't recommend me to someone else for terrifying her twice in as many visits.

[dannnnnny666]

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?” 

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?” 

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

[sirfrogsworth]

Dinner with Aunt Denise & Uncle Jeff A Tale of Science Fair Photography

Ever since my parents died my aunt and uncle have done their best to fill some of the hole left in my heart. It almost feels like they adopted me in a way. They check on me. They help me clean. They helped me sort through all of my parents' belongings. And from time to time they invite me over for dinner when I'm feeling up to it.

Last week I got a new invitation. I had been feeling pretty lonely as of late so I graciously accepted. Before I left I saw my camera sitting on the table and realized I had this fancy new lens which is especially suited for taking pictures of people.

I thought to myself...

"This lens has only taken pictures of bridges at sunset."

Which is cool and everything, but I don't really want my only photos to be of bridges at sunset. I like taking pictures of other things.

I didn't have any lighting equipment handy—just a single external flash. And without a solid plan for how I was going to use it, I quickly packed said flash and headed westward. As I saw the sun lowering in the sky above the highway my big photography brain had an idea...

"I should take pictures of *people* at sunset."

I needed a reflector of some kind to bounce my flash against. I thought poster board would probably suffice so I stopped at Walmart and headed to the arts and crafts area. I found these tri-fold poster board thingies that grade school kids use to display their science fair experiments.

I got 2 for $7!

What a deal!

After I arrived I asked if my aunt & uncle minded having their photo taken. My aunt said she was fine with it but warned me that no one had ever been able to take a decent photo of her.

I'm typically not one to be braggadocious, but I replied...

"Well, that's because you've never had your photo taken by ME."

I'm not sure I should have been so cocky considering my lighting equipment is typically used to display the life cycle of earthworms, baking soda volcanos, and... potato batteries—which was the delightful and totally real project I just found on Google.

Science Fair Entry from Billy, Age 10

After a delicious feast of bratwurst, salad, and non-electrified potatoes, I convinced my aunt and uncle to sit for a sunset photoshoot. They even helped me set up my science fair project.

Science Fair Entry from Froggie, Age 42

I decided to do a quick test indoors to make sure my plan would work. Jeff volunteered for my first experiment.

Without my contraption...

With my contraption...

I think my experiment was quite promising. But would my idea hold up outside during the sunset with constantly dimming conditions?

We moved everything to the backyard. The tri-fold poster board was a bit ornery regarding its uprightness and needed to be tamed. My Uncle Jeff used a large rock, some pillows, and a step ladder to keep the makeshift reflectors in place.

I started taking test photos without the flash to figure out the background exposure.

Those pesky power lines were going to need to be zapped later in Photoshop, but I was really digging the scenery.

I dialed everything in, started taking photos, and even on the little rear camera screen I felt like they were turning out well. With the sun setting the sky looked like it was on fire. But then the batteries died in my flash and I was starting to lose that fiery sky as darkness began to creep into view.

Unfortunately, all of the potatoes were in our bellies so my aunt scrambled to find regular batteries in the house.

This photoshoot had become a complete team effort with everyone doing their part to make it a success.

Surprisingly it was my Uncle Jeff was giving me some bona fide model poses. He just naturally has some sort of... resting model face. Very masculine and authentic. And my Aunt Denise is just pure sunshine manifested as a person. So I had no problems getting nice expressions from her.

So... would you like to see the pictures?

Will I get a blue ribbon on my science fair project?

Am I building up the suspense too much?

Okay, here we go...

I suppose the only validation I really need is from the person who has never had a decent photo taken of them.

Let's see the verdict.

All of those hours and hours of photography training helped me learn the problem solving skills I needed to pull off a photoshoot with seven dollars in supplies.

Take a small light source, bounce it off something larger, and you get a big light source.

And big light sources make people look snazzy in photographs.

Easy!

Are you kidding me?

I lost to the potato kid?

What kind of rigged nonsense...

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

Hey there~ If you are still taking requests for Kurt Wagner imagines/scenarios, can I suggest one with a mutant who has plant powers? Plant manipulation is my go to power. Nothing specific, I just really want more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler content 😊

Mother Nature

Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1,6K A/N: Alright, first of my requests is done! I made some kind of mix between headcanons and oneshot because it just fit well in my opinion. Also, the gender wasn't stated so I tried to keep it neutral. Hope you like it :)

Let's start with some basics, shall we? In my opinion, Kurt would adore a partner with plant manipulation powers.

Yes, flying and teleporting are all well and good, but plant manipulation? He's absolutely fascinated and will watch you every time you use your powers. And don't you dare stop him watching...

You are, even if it's not immediately obvious, an incredibly powerful mutant. Control over plants means control over almost everything, trees, flowers, grass, even the earth if you try hard enough (through roots, of course). Kurt is a gentleman, of course, and it doesn't always sit right with him if you want to do certain things on your own that he could help with, but oh boy... If he doesn't get weak in the knees when you go into full mutant mode.

The first time he met you was in the old garden shed, which was pretty run-down. He hadn't really wanted to end up there himself, but in retrospect he is very grateful that he did. The professor had never really had time to look after the garden house, which is why you took on the task. And let me put it this way: the first time he saw your powers? The man was smitten from day one.

Plant nicknames. You won't escape them. Neither in German nor in English. “My flower”, “My lucky clover”, “My rose” but also references, especially to mythological creatures “Little garden fairy”, “Persephone”, .... The full program.

When he gives you plants - which he loves to do - he makes sure that they are planted so that you can enjoy them for a very long time. Kurt brings you plants from different cultures and countries, keen to give you as much diversity as possible. However, if he is forced to give you a bouquet of flowers, that's no problem either. You may prefer living plants, but hey - what can you manipulate plants for if you can't bring them back to life?

One disadvantage of your power is that you don't feel very comfortable in an environment without plants. It's fine in the institute, as it's mostly made of wood (dead, but still plant-based), but Kurt makes sure that there are always at least four living plants in your classroom as well as in his room.

Also loves listening to you. You teach a kind of mixture of theoretical biology and practical manual work in the gardens and there's almost nothing better for him than listening to you talk passionately about the plants. Or kneeling down in the garden bed, your eyes gleaming in the sunlight...

Should you move in together later? Be prepared for this man to go all out and fulfill your every request. Nothing is too good for you. Big garden? No problem. Plants all over the house? Already done. House in the country, surrounded by nothing but nature? Your wish is his command.

You have also quickly become his favorite training partner. And that's not just because Kurt can't keep his eyes and hands (and tail) off his partner. For one thing, it helps him to avoid moving objects, because he has learned the hard way how painful it can be to get an ivy tendril in the face. On the other hand, the two of you are simply perfectly attuned to each other. Kurt teleports a little too far to the left? Don't worry, the branch likes to stretch out a bit to catch him. The vine was a bit too short and not quite enough to catch you? Kurt is there to pick you up with ease. In other words, you don't want to compete against the two of you.

Kurt loves it when you make him flower necklaces or flower crowns. They last forever thanks to your power and as soon as you put them on his head? Don't expect him to take them off any time soon. He wears them with pride.

Kurt has always liked nature as he has traveled a lot in his life, but since he's been with you? He's become a huge fan of garden or nature dates. Whether it's a picnic outdoors, a walk in the woods or an afternoon in the greenhouse, he'll take it all. And if you do some magic with your power? He's in paradise.

Speaking of the greenhouse? Although it was initially your project, over time, especially after the relationship began, it has become your and Kurt's project. He doesn't know much about gardening, but he's willing to learn as long as that means continuing to listen and watch you.

Kurt materialized in the middle of the greenhouse and immediately the scent of the different types of flowers, of which he did not know the names, wafted towards him, but he knew that they made you happy and that was all that mattered to him. His eyes wandered around the open room, looking for you, and he realized again how much you had already done.

Yes, he had helped too, but it was you who had done the main work.  Kurt still remembered the dead beds, the dried up earth and the broken sidewalks.

The glass panes were dirty and partly broken and the rain had caused mold to grow on some things. None of the garden utensils, the few that were at least there, were usable and pretty much everyone would have labeled this greenhouse a lost cause.

Not you.

You set to work yourself and improved everything yourself without using much of your powers. Kurt had caught you at the beginning of your project, so he was able to assess the improvement pretty well. You had cleaned and partially replaced the glass of the greenhouse - the latter admittedly with his help, as it was easier for him to reach the panes above - knocked out the path and replaced it with a loose, albeit well-kept, gravel path. The old borders of the beds were torn out and replaced with a large partition to the gravel path, allowing the plants greater freedom to grow.

One day you had grabbed Logan and Scott, Kurt had come along voluntarily, and had taken them to a gardening store to buy the necessary equipment and seeds. Logan and Scott had both grumbled while carrying them, Logan a little more than Scott, but your results were impressive.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of different plant species were growing neatly in every direction and it no longer resembled a greenhouse, but a rainforest that rivaled even the true jungle in diversity. Kurt smiled slightly and ran the tip of his tail over the soft petals of a red hibiscus flower.

You had made it possible for many plants to grow here, even if the conditions were not ideal, but they thrived under your guidance.

However, just as he was about to bend down to smell a new, previously unknown flower, a frustrated groan sounded, which seemed all too familiar. Kurt could already guess where you would be. He disappeared into a dark cloud and emerged not two meters behind you.

For a few moments he gazed at you lovingly as you knelt in front of the lily patch, but he quickly stepped towards you when he realized you were about to snap with anger (last time it had taken a week and a lot of affection from Kurt to remove the rampant thorny vines from the school grounds).

Kurt couldn't help but find your behavior endearing and pulled you closer to him, even though you tried to fight it. You might be better with plants, but he was the stronger of the two of you, whether you liked it or not. "My love," he murmured in your ear and you gave up your fight, just snuggled up against him, pouting.

„Liebling," he knelt down next to you and tilted his head. "What's the problem?" You glared angrily at the beds in front of you and began to poke around in them with the shovel. "Snails. Snails are the problem. What's the point of being able to manipulate and grow plants if those blasted bastards eat all my lilies?"

Despite your frustration, Kurt had to smile. "You still haven't given up the fight."

"No," you replied, throwing another slug into the bucket next to you with a disgusted look on your face. "That's my greenhouse. Let them find their own."

"You can't possibly remove all the slugs, the greenhouse is too big for that. Besides, it's late. Let's go back to the institute. I'll make us some hot chocolate, we'll snuggle up on the sofa and watch that movie you've been wanting to show me for weeks."

You hesitated but his tail wrapped around your middle and the tip slowly traveled up and down your side and Kurt knew he had won.

You groaned in defeat and grabbed the bucket, which you promptly emptied out of one of the windows and closed it. You cast one last angry look at the beds. "You may have won the battle, but I will be the victor of the war."

Kurt laughed softly, wrapping you in his arms again as his tail wrapped boldly around your waist. "You will." With a sweeping motion, he picked you up bridal style and pressed you tightly against him, making you squeal and then laugh. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

"Tonight, though, you're mine." You disappeared in a cloud of black and blue mist and let it be said, you didn't think about the creatures that had declared war on you for the rest of the evening.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi. is it true that you can get hpv without having sex ? my parents opted me out of getting the vaccine for it . if it is possible, how? and also how do i ask them if i can get the vaccine for it ? or can i ask the pediatrician next time i go there and ask them to ask my parents about it ?

hi anon,

I'm going to go ahead and link the Center for Disease Control's fact sheet on HPV, which I think will be helpful to have on tap here:

HPV is spread through close skin-to-skin contact, primarily vaginal, anal, or oral sex - you're not going to get it by giving someone a hug or a high five or sharing food.

an important thing to know about HPV is that it's extremely common, to the point that virtually every person who is ever sexually active can be reasonably assumed to have it at some point. and it's usually no big deal! as our friends at the CDC tell us, about 90% of cases of HPV go away after about 2 years without ever causing any health problems at all.

the HPV vaccine is to look out for the other 10% of cases. an important thing to understand about HPV is that it comes in a lot of different varieties, called "strains." most of the strains are pretty harmless, as noted above; they're viruses that just freeload in your body for a while trying to spread to other people and then go away again, easy peasy. but some strains can cause genital warts, which can be uncomfortable and cause some health complications, and cervical cancer.

important to note: cervical cancer is HIGHLY treatable if caught early and managed properly, which is why it's very important to get regular pap smears if you've had partnered sex. (the current recommendation is every 3 years until you turn 65.) pap smears screen for irregularities in the cervix that can serve as an early warning for cervical cancer, allowing you and your healthcare providers to pursue treatment as quickly as possible.

now, back to the HPV vaccine, which can lower the risk of cervical cancer even further by providing inoculation against HPV. it's a great long-term health investment against one of the most common STIs in the world, which is a great point to bring up with your parents. your pediatrician can also be a good advocate to have in this discussion if your parents are, for some reason, opposed to you receiving the vaccine, so by all means feel free to involve them!

I don't really know how else to tell you to ask your parents other than, you know, saying you want to get the HPV vaccine. that's hardly an unreasonable request; the ideal time to get an HPV vaccine is when you're young and haven't had a chance to be exposed to HPV yet.

for anyone who's not that young or has already had sex, worry not: you can still get the vaccine up to the age of 45, and a vaccine that's a little less effective is much better than no vaccine at all. I didn't get mine until I was 25! so, for anon: if your parents really decide to be hardasses about this for some reason, you're still hot to go as soon as you're 18 and can pick your own vaccines.

I hope this helps!

[storm-and-starlight]

revisiting my opinions on which doctors could pull off Heaven Sent

could do it with minimal alterations to the original episode's plot and dialogue

Twelve - obviously

Eight - could 100% pull off the speeches and the angst and, of course, the memory loss. The episode would definitely be focused a little more on the great tragedy of dying over and over and over again just in the hopes of making it through enough loops to break out, and Eight would be much much more of a sad wet cat about it all, but he could totally pull it off.

Seven - would take a bit more tweaking than Eight (specifically to change the focus of the episode to the puzzle of it all, finding the right room and figuring out the secret of the Veil), but would 100% punch his way through the wall and be able to pull off the speeches.

could maybe do it? but with pretty major edits

Four - definitely has the charisma and the ability to give the speeches, but I don't know if the speeches as written would fit well into how Four talks, and he'd also need the same tweaking at Seven to make it more about solving the mystery, rather than the very atmospheric style of the original. The wall scene would also probably have to be reworked, since Four doesn't really seem like the type to punch through it in the exact same way as Twelve.

Three - could and would punch through the wall and would do it in half the time of Twelve but couldn't carry off the angst or the atmosphere, so you'd need some pretty dramatic rejiggering of the major stylistic choices in order to make it work. Honestly, you might have to really lean into a, like, horror/thriller kinda thing, with the pursuit of the Veil?

could pull off a focus episode but would need a fundamentally different style

Ten/Fourteen - absolutely has the screen presence but they need someone to talk to in order to get it, and the same is true of their problem-solving style. They need someone to bounce off of as an antagonist and as a companion -- basically, they need the same setup as Wild Blue Yonder, which is basically exactly what Fourteen's version of Heaven Sent would be anyways. (Also Ten doesn't do speeches like Twelve does, and definitely wouldn't punch through the wall -- his problem-solving style leans more towards the whole "push a single button that sets off a chain reaction that solves everything" rather than sheer stubborness. He doesn't have the attention span for the wall.)

Nine - Nine also has the screen presence but his comes when he's angry at something, which means that he needs something to yell at, so he would also need another speaking being present in the episode for him to get really really mad at. Think Dalek but without the Rose subplots?

probably not (note: the major reason why none of these work for Heaven Sent is because they're all Doctors that work best with an ensemble cast around them -- they sacrifice intensity and screen-presence for the sake of letting other characters shine)

Eleven - doesn't have the screen presence for that kind of intensity, alas. He could pull off the speeches in his own style, but he's not hypnotic while doing them the same way Twelve is, and he definitely doesn't have the type of personality to pull off the wall. His best emotional episodes are smaller and closer to the heart, and Heaven Sent is anything but small.

Five - could not pull off the speeches or the wall or the puzzle. He's a sweetheart and a golden retriever but he's not nearly dramatic enough to carry a solo episode like that.

Two - same as Five, really

One - just... no. I can't pull out any reasons (it might just be that he's from an era of television that was so very different in how it constructed stories), but no

no clue

Fifteen - hasn't been around long enough for me to get a sense of his personality

Thirteen - never really had a consistent personality in the first place. or any good emotional episodes so I don't feel like I know her well enough to make a judgement call

Six - just straight-up haven't seen very much of his run so I couldn't say how he'd fit in Heaven Sent.

[wayfayrr]

Hey there, I wondered if Tears ever gets insecure about his arm, scars or possibly even his height. Like I find his height absolutely perfect and adorable but he is smaller than most other people and it might bother him?

So I've been wondering how he acts when insecure and what would be a good way to comfort him. I would just hold him and try to convince him of all the good qualities he has. As well as petting through his hair. Making him feel loved and secure. And honestly an extraordinary arm isn't that bad, it doesn't affect who he is after all.

I wonder if that would help or he'd need some other form of comfort. Or maybe to be left alone. Anything from an answer to hc's to a short story or even deletion is fine! If you even have time and are willing that is!

Have a great day! <3

I absolutely loved this request, thank you so much for it - I've gone with three different possible scenarios for why he could be dealing with feeling insecure and some headcanons for how you could help him feel better about himself after each one <3 There is one major one I left out but the issue regarding his memories will definitely be explored some time soon!

honestly exploring tears is just so fun, it's nice tearing into his different layers :3c headcanons under the cut!

[masterlist]

due to his prosthetic 

✦ This is the easiest of his insecurities to deal with, as it only really tends to show itself when his phantom pains act up. 

✦ he’s long used to having lost his arm by the point that you meet, having had to figure out a replacement for when Rauru’s arm faded after his second quest was over.

✦ despite that though he still isn’t used to the ricocheting pain he gets once every so often, less now than when he was first still drowned in gloom but still just as debilitating. 

✦ He just needs to taken away from other people and shown affection, reassured that his is a benefit rather than something people only pity him for. 

✦ it’s all he really needs in those moments of vulnerability, when he can feel the flesh being shredded from his none existent bone. 

“Wouldn't it be better if there was some way to just have my arm go back to how it should be? That way I wouldn’t be such a burden when he decides to haunt me again.” “Sherbert whatever do you mean? You aren’t a burden for this, why even consider it?” “The whole group has had to come to a stop just because of this stupid pain and I know you’ve seen time getting pissed off with me for the things I can do with it.” “Time’s just an old man who’s worried about your safety, he means no harm with it. Wars got the rest to come to a stop for the same reason, not because you’re a burden, but because we care for you.” “But If my arm wasn’-” “Your arm is part of who you are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, I love you for you Li, don’t even waste your energy thinking otherwise.”

✦ another way to help him through these patches is more to do with also indulging his love for learning about your home, or well more to the point - stickers. Giving him ones with meaning and that he thinks are pretty help him to work his confidence back. Because it wouldn't be possible without his arm!

due to his height 

✦ This comes out even rarer than his doubts about his arm, and only due to a very specific scenario and that’s if you’re talking about Earth's beauty standards - how taller people are often seen as more attractive.

✦ If you aren’t quick to say otherwise he’s going to assume that’s what you think too, it’s going to do a real number on his self esteem - because the thing is, he never really cares about what other people think about him, it simply doesn’t even register as something he should be worried about before he met you outside of the memory issue but that’s a whole other thing 

✦ this is the first time that something that REALLY has never been an issue for him becomes a big problem, if you aren’t aware of why he’s feeling like this then the sudden shift will come as a surprise. As he starts to avoid you and tear up whenever you see him before leaving. The rest of the chain mention that they’ve seen him tinkering with things but no one has seen exactly what it is.  

✦ the reason it came up was possibly from another member of the chains jealousy of how close the two of you were before this, or simply another villager trying to get you to go with them ‘because why wouldn’ t you want a tall handsome guy? 

✦ the sooner you can catch on and comfort him the better, as it’ll give it less time to get stuck in his head that you aren’t comforting him because it’s true, and it’s harder to tell himself that it isn’t while you’re pretty much confirming it

✦ but when you finally do get through to him that you don’t care about his height? That you aren’t secretly judging him for being so short? He’ll have a little moment where he breaks down, he’s been avoiding you for so long… and for what? All that time with you he’s missed over such a ridiculous reason will haunt him for at least a few days. 

“Tears? Link what are you doing? You’ve been avoiding me for nearly a week now. And - are those?” “I, no I haven’t been ‘avoiding’ you, just, I’ve just been busy… yeah.” “Were you just making those stilts this whole time? Is that why you’ve blanked me, seriously?” “I just - I, that - in the village.” “Hey, hey lilac there’s no need to cry love, I’m not angry, I’ve just missed you. You don’t have to tell me why, it’s just worried me.” “It - that guy, what he said - I just, wouldn’t you prefer someone taller?” “Well someone taller wouldn’t be you love. And I couldn’t even imagine being with someone else.” “R-really?” “Really darling.”

✦ he'll be impossibly clingy and almost showy after the fact, to the point where other people start getting concerned about how close he's getting - but it's not like he's hurt anyone else over it yet but if the villager who planted the idea in his head ever appears again then, well who would blame him..?

due to his sexuality (haha demiromantic asexual tears hc stepping innn)

✦ This is a bit more of a unique one, because it isn’t something he’s had to put all that much thought into before, it’s just never come up, but when he hears how some of the others talk about relationships he starts to have doubts about himself. 

✦ He simply doesn’t feel things that the others have described and the things that he has felt happened so much slower than how they said it did for them. He simply can’t help but question if there was- is something wrong with him. 

✦ He only started to fall when he was good friends with you, not the instant connection that he heard that time had with malon, or twi with midna. He doesn’t want you the person who he loves more than his own life to be with someone who he’s starting to think as so broken. If he can’t feel love ‘right’ then how could he hope to treat you right? 

✦ If he learns about this being normal, about the fact that other people share the same things as him, that he has flags that can use to show off his identity? It’s the biggest relief that he’s felt since meeting someone who treated him like a person. 

✦ once he’s gotten it through his head that he’s not broken, and that he doesn’t need to be worried about not being enough for you. You accept him for what he is and aren’t trying to make him change. It’s something he very very rarely gets to experience, and it definitely helps him feel even closer to you in the end 

✦ some of the biggest comfort he gets is you just accepting him and letting his feelings progress at his natural rate, it’s one of the best things he could have hoped for.

[crazylittlejester]

What is one head canon you have for every individual member of the chain?

only one headcanon for each of them? 🥺

Time: I’ve definitely said this one before, but he is not at all trying to be fatherly. He does care about the boys a lot, but his fatherly actions are all completely unintentional, he has no idea some of them look up to him like a dad, and he has yet to realize he looks at some of them as his kids. In his mind he’s just being kind and brotherly. He has a hard time expressing emotions and seriously struggles with facial expressions, which is why he comes off as so hard to approach and seems more responsible and dad like, but that’s not the case at all. He’s just as chaotic as the others and seriously is oblivious to how some of them look up to him

Warriors: I headcanon he comes from a family of tailors (which is a headcanon ive seen before) who own a small shop in the little village he comes from (he’s not originally a city boy to me, he became a city boy later in life). His family also owns a small farm and he had big dogs growing up. Had the war never happened he’d probably still be with them, taking over his mom’s shop because he was the one most interested in it (i also headcanon he has a lot of siblings)

Twilight: He needs people to take care of or he won’t take care of himself. He just falls into such a slump if there’s no one for him to look after because he feels useless and unneeded. He’s a serious hoverer when one of the others are injured but he feels bad for hovering so he ends up sitting on the opposite side of camp looking like a wet dog and it’s just so sad looking 😭

Sky: I know a lot of people make him super sleepy or give him asthma because of his low stamina in Skyward Sword and also because he just always seems tired in that game, but for me Sky has epilepsy, and that’s why he has periods of time where he’s just absolutely exhausted

Hyrule: Not afraid of much and has a stomach of steel. This kid will eat anything and everything and will be completely fine. Bonus extra headcanon: I think he’s older than Legend

Legend: I headcanon he’s autistic and struggles to control the tone of his voice, and that’s why he can come off pretty harsh. He doesn’t mean to, he’s seriously pretty chill (unless Warriors is involved), but he can come off as disinterested or snappy when he really doesn’t mean to

Wild: Actually extremely good at handling his emotions and dealing with problems (compared to the others). He knows he gets overwhelmed and while he’s not the best at telling someone where he goes to blow off steam, he knows how to hold himself back and handle himself, and he’s perfectly capable of defending himself if something happens when he goes off alone. Sometimes he just needs to be alone, and if he really CANT be alone because it’s too dangerous, Wolfie will trail after him just for backup and keep his distance

Four: BIG reader, he loves to curl up with a good book but it’s hard for him to get his alone time to focus on what he’s reading while he’s traveling with the others. He will make up stories in his head when he can’t sleep or actually focus, and he’s a really animated story teller. He’s told a lot of campfire stories and when he’s doing those it’s one of the very few times the others actually shut up

Wind: Dyslexic and seriously struggles to read, but he absolutely LOVES to draw and would doodle all the time during any lessons anyone tried to give him ever. Give this kid a sketchbook and he’ll literally draw you a masterpiece. He loves sketching scenery and the others and he’s FREAKY good at it

[dumpywrites]

Tears and Poetries - Namjoon / RM

Prompt: “You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader 

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

a/n: Come back to me got me feeling all inspired soooo yeah :)

It was late. Frankly you did not bother to check the time but you knew it was at least way past twelve. You just needed some air. Late night polluted air might not be the right option, but it was the best you could have at the moment. Getting out was the only coping response your mind could think off. Getting out from where exactly you could not be sure. 

Work life had been a real shit-show. You were on your fifth revision for your company project and your manager still would not accept your draft. While life? Life had been pretty exhausting. Recently your mother had been pestering you about wanting you to achieve more, comparing you to her friends’ sons and daughters, while also underestimating your own accomplishment. 

And not even two weeks ago, a guy who you were seeing just admitted that he apparently had a girlfriend. He really just dropped that info to you like a bomb, as if you did not spend time with each other the past six months. True, you never really put a label on whatever you both had, but in your head you were single and so was he. Until he told you that he got a girlfriend and had dated her for a month already. 

The wound still felt fresh especially with all the external problems added to the equation. Bearing the feeling of unwanted, unimportant, and never enough at once, was hard. Even labeling it as only hard sounded like an understatement. 

So you ran. Theoretically speaking you did not run away, you just took off from your apartment randomly to wherever your feet and your worn off sneakers took you. And they took you to a random spot near a river. 

You sat down on the dirty grassy ground, not minding how your shorts could get dirty from it.  Just sitting down and looking at the night sky, as if the cold breeze would calm you and do anything besides giving you a possibility of catching cold. 

Five, fifteen, maybe it was around half an hour you had been sitting there with empty thoughts, just letting the cold air hit your skin, when you suddenly heard a sound of a bicycle stopping and footsteps approaching. 

“Hello? Are you alright there?”

The deep voice started you and made you look back in an instant. There was a tall and quite big built guy standing with his bicycle. He had a buzzcut from the very faint image you could see due to the low light. 

Although skeptic, you decided to answer. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

You realized how shaky and stuffy your voice sounded. It probably was not a very convincing “don’t worry”. And when you did not voice another reply, the person parked their vehicle and slowly walked towards your direction. 

“Hey! Stranger danger!” You said, backing off from where you were seating. 

The guy stopped in his tracks but did not walked away. “Do you mind if I join your pondering session? Who knows two great minds might think alike.” 

You stayed still in your position, eyes searching for his in the very confusing lack of light. You could barely make out of what he looked like. 

“I’m not a creep, I swear!” He threw his hands in the air. “There’s a police station nearby if you wanna shout as loud as you can, they could hear you from here.” 

He took your silence as a green light and stepped closer until he reached a spot on your left. He cleared his throat and sat down next to you. 

There you could eventually fully saw his face. The first thing you noticed was the nicely shaped nose, and his plump lips, then his dimples which showed when he politely smiled at you. 

The first ten minutes was spent in complete silence. You did not expect the man to whip out a notepad and pencil and just started writing. A story? Poem? Or song? You tried your best not to sneak a look. He was even humming at some point when he wrote, and it was strangely enough, soothing. 

“What are you writing?” You finally asked, the suspense was killing you. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied with excitement. “I’m writing a poem. Though I’m starting to think it’d sound better as a song.”

“You’re a singer or something?”

The man looked at you in disbelief for a good second before chuckling. “Sorta.”

“Am I suppose to know you?” You eyed him back with the same questioning look. 

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t know for today.”

You looked at the guy suspiciously, which earned a laugh from him. “The more I think about it, I think I’ve seen your face somewhere…”

“Oh yeah?” He said, a light tone of nervousness was visible in his voice. 

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

He almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, that one dude from BTS.” You repeated. “Although I don’t think any one from them has a buzzcut… Idols always seem to have either colorful hair or beautiful long locks.” 

“Really…” The man voiced out, sounding unsure. 

“Are you perhaps an indie artist? K-hiphop? Don’t tell me you are a DPR member that I somehow don’t know about or something…”

“Okay, enough about that it’s not important.” He dismissed. “You wanna take a look of what I’ve written?”

“Uh, sure…”

You leaned a bit closer to him and peeked over his notes. He took his notepad nearing it to your side so you could read better. Despite the low source of illumination, you could read the delicately written words. It was deep and meaningful. Whatever he wrote on that paper seemed a little too real to just be a song, it almost felt like it came from true experience. 

“You sound like you went through hell to get to where you are right now.” 

You commented, you were not aware of how reading through his words affected you until you could practically hear your heartbeat. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm it down. 

“I’m not only talking about the sufferings.” He pointed out. “I also mentioned about the journeys in between.”

His expression brightened as he explained further. You found it really attractive for some reason. 

“The feeling of loss, left out, were there alongside the feeling of excitement, growth, and wanting to change for the better.” He grinned. “And I think life needs that small bits of flavor to complete us as human beings… Wouldn’t have loved myself so much without all my struggles and flaws.”

You gazed at the guy in front of you in awe. “Guess you’re right.” You finally broke into a smile. “That was beautiful though, almost got me tearing up.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, showing his dimples. “What about you though? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kinda lame…” You nervously laughed. 

“I’m listening.” He scooted closer, making your knees touched. 

“There are a whole list of messed up things happening in my life right now, but I guess I could name one or two…” 

You took a deep breath and the guy in front of you patiently waited for you to speak. 

“Basically my mom’s been yelling at me saying stuff about how unsuccessful I am for my nine to five job, while getting bullied by my manager at work, and not to mention, how I just got dumped by a guy who I was seeing for six months.”

“That’s fucked up…” He looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You tell me.” You replied sassily. “I mean I guess for the most part it wasn’t really about the problem itself. I’m aware of how perfectionist my manager could be and multiple revision is expected. My mom never really feels content with anything, so that’s also expected. And that fucking guy leaving me? It was probably for the better…”

“Hey.” He grabbed your shoulder suddenly, catching you in a surprise. “Don’t downplay your feelings like that. You’re allowed to feel sad when other people treats you like utter shit. It’s valid.” 

There was something about his words that triggered an emotion within you. Unknowingly, a tear escaped your eyes, followed by more next. 

You leaned backwards to free from his grip, only for him to lose it but proceeded to take off his knitted sweater, revealing a black oversized t-shirt underneath. He took it off with one hand before shoving it through your head so you could wear it. 

“It’s chilly. You might catch a cold.” 

Hesitantly, you rolled the sweater through your body. You felt the neckline stained with tears and wondered if it was his polite way of helping you wipe your tears. You thanked him and he told you to continue. 

“I don’t know what else to say, I don’t want to trauma dump on you.” 

“How are you feeling though?” He asked, eyes gently looking at you. 

“I just… I felt unwanted? Unimportant and undesirable? It happened all at once and it got me connecting strings. The root cause of my problem felt like it came from me as a person and I felt sick…”

He gazed at you and quietly nod, allowing you to continue. 

“I came here because it was loud and deafening in here,” You tapped your head with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m glad I did. Not only did I manage to tone it down a couple notches, I also get an exclusive song preview from a top star!” 

Both of you laughed in unison. You were the first to break the eye contact due to the sudden invasion of butterflies in your stomach. It might be dark and late at night, but your eyes could not lie about the beauty of the stranger in front of you. 

The silence was soon broken by a buzzing notification from his phone. It was on silent mode, but the multiple vibrations got him shuffling his hand on his pocket, fishing his phone out from his cargo pants. 

“Damn, I gotta head back. Someone needs me in the studio…” 

“At this hour?!” You argued immediately.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He ran his hand through his short hair in a frustrated way. 

“What’s your name?” 

You both stopped and looked at each other, dumbfounded. Both of you asked the same question at the same time. Laughter filled the air once again. 

“You first.” The guy gestured. 

You got up and he followed right after. Now looking at how tall he was compared to you, spelling out your name felt a little bit harder. Your heart was beating in an abnormal rate. You finally managed to tell him your name and you patted yourself internally for not voicing out like a squealing hormonal teenager. 

“I’m Namjoon.” He said with a huge contagious smile. 

“Now where did I hear that name—“

“Can I have your number?” He interrupted. Glancing at his phone screen, a small groan escaped his lips. “It’s almost three, you have to go home.”

“Oh.” Your lips formed a small O shape. “Sure. Here, give me your phone…”

You both then exchanged phone numbers. 

“I want to take you back to your home so badly but I really can’t…” Namjoon sighed. “Besides, my bicycle can only do so much…” He chuckled. 

“It’s okay, I live nearby.” You smiled. “You take care, though.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “Thank you, Namjoon.” 

“Don’t mention it, I’m really glad we met today.” He nodded at you before retreating to where he parked his bicycle. 

“Wait!” 

You followed, running to his direction. You stopped when your arms barely linked behind him, hugging him tightly. It was bold of you but it just felt right at the moment. 

“Thank you so much, I mean it.” You said with voice muffled a little by his clothes against your mouth. 

And you did. You meant it, it felt really nice having someone who actually listened to your problem and seemed like he cared about it too. 

He hugged back. “You’re not unwanted, okay? You are loved, please know that.”

You nodded and broke off the hug. A big smile plastered on your lips and he mimicked it. “Okay, you may go now.”

You both bid your goodbyes and that was how you found yourself smiling and giggling at three in the morning, by yourself, on your way back to your place, all while hugging the sweater that you forgot to give back. That encounter was weird, but in a very good way. It almost felt like the universe sent you an angel knowing how down you were feeling. In a peculiar way, it almost felt like he saved you. You went to sleep easily that night. 

The next morning you were awaken by a text notification popping up from Namjoon. You smiled like an idiot to yourself before opening it. 

“Good morning! I hope you slept well. Did you arrive safe yesterday? Sorry something came up, I wished I could stay longer.”

You quickly replied to him. “I slept good. Probably thanks to you, hehe. No problem though! Maybe we could hangout again someday? I need to return your sweater after all :)”

After typing the text and sending it, suddenly a curious thought filled your head. His name did ring an unknown bell. Namjoon did mention that he was a singer, an idol maybe? You could not be sure. You tapped your Google app on your phone and started typing his name followed by the word “singer” behind it. 

Maybe this was your cue to be more aware of the Kpop industry. You had your fair share of listening to K-hiphop, and were even an avid listener of groups like Epik High and Balming Tiger. 

So how come you failed to notice that last night you in fact just hugged Kim Namjoon, aka RM from the internationally well known boy group, BTS???

Thank you for reading! 🌙

a/n: this was a rather short one but i hope y'all like it nonetheless <3

Prompt request: HERE

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Eight - What About The Party Princess?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

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The final chapter has arrived!! I can't believe we turned this from a long oneshot into a whole ass series

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There was a knock at her door.

The Princess of Monaco stood from her sofa (which, like the rest of her apartment, had been tidy two days ago. But she'd fallen apart all over again after that) and strode towards it. She didn't check through the peep hole as she pulled open the door.

Immediately she shut it in his face.

He knocked again. "Come on, Princess! Open up!"

But she returned to her sofa and turned up the volume on her television. Tucking her legs beneath her, she ignored it as he continued to knock.

But Charles wouldn't stop. "What the fuck have I done?" He shouted as his fist kept pounding away.

Her building had security. She could have called the security guard to have him taken from the building, but she didn't. He could knock all he wanted, but she wasn't going to answer

It hadn't even been a fight, had it? You can't have a lovers quarrel when you're not lovers.

Had they really been dating, they probably would have made up. She would have let Charles into her apartment had he would have given her flowers. Still, she would have pouted at him as he took her into his arms, apologising as he kissed all over her face.

But they weren't really dating.

As far as Charles was aware, she had disappeared, hidden herself away from him. There were no new news articles on her or what she was doing. She'd dropped off the face of the earth.

The news, of course, was based on the king. Staff gave updates when they could, but there wasn't a lot that they could say. He was dying, that much was clear, and nothing could fix it.

The Princess of Monaco hadn't visited her father yet. She was aware of his health condition, but she couldn't bring herself to see him in that condition. No matter what Henri tried to get her to come to the palace, she wouldn't, couldn't.

She'd stopped answering her phone. Between Henri and Charles, it was constantly going off. So, she switched it off, placed it in the drawers beside her bed, and forgot about it.

And then the black car came to pick it up. She knew the black car with the royal crest on it, had been picked up several times in it from strangers houses. When it came, she had no choice but to climb into the back, sitting silently as they drover her to the place she had grown up.

Henri greeted her at the door. "Took you long enough," he said with something like a kind smile.

One she didn't return. The fact that she was there, that somebody had come to get her from her apartment, it had to mean something. Had to mean he was at the end of his life.

"How is he?" She asked, but she knew the answer already.

Henri had his hand on her shoulder as he guided her towards their fathers room. "Before we go in there, I need you to ready yourself," he said. "It's not a pretty sight, but he wanted to see you before he died."

She swallowed and nodded her head. She was ready.

He was small and frail, a shell of the man he once was. Seeing him hooked up to so many machines, she wasn't sure if she could do this. Before he could open his eyes, she turned on her heel to walk out of the room.

"There you are," her father said through a cough.

Sucking in a breath she turned back towards him and took a seat in the chair next to his bed. "Hey, dad," she said.

He reached for her hand and she took his. "Your brother tells me you're getting married," he said and turned away to cough into his other hand. "I'm glad. You've always worried me and I'm glad you're finally settling down with that driver."

Her face fell. Charles. He was talking about Charles. Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. But she sucked in a breath. If this was what her father needed to her before he died, she would tell him.

"Yeah, dad," she said, voice squeaking a little. "Yeah, I'm marrying him."

A sad smile passed over her fathers face. "Your brother is going to make a wonderful king," he said, eyes shutting. "I never wanted that burden for you, but Henri can handle it. He was born for this."

She squeezed his hand, but he didn't squeeze back. "What was I born for, papa?"

His hand was shaking as he raised it to her cheek. "To be my perfect little girl."

She couldn't stop herself from crying as she stood from the chair and ran out of the room. As soon as she was out in the hall, Henri had a hold of her, pulling her into his chest. "Why did you tell him about Charles?" She sobbed against his shoulder.

Henri shushed her, his fingers moving through her hair. "He needed to hear it," he said softly as he pulled her towards his office.

"No," she said as she got to the doors. "No, Henri, I don't want one of your fucking meetings," she cried and went to storm away.

Henri let her go.

She hadn't expected to go to her own room. But there she sat, on her bed, stuffed toys on the end of it facing her.

Why did her dad have to mention Charles? She had loved him. Even if she was bad at showing it, she had fallen for him. And now he wasn't even in her life. She hadn't thought about marrying him. No, it had been too early for that. They weren't even together, so how was she supposed to marry him?

Maybe that was why she searching up his name.

The Monaco Press was the first thing to show up on her phone. She should have known better than to click on anything written by The Monaco Press but the headline caught her attention.

What About The Party Princess?

Formula One driver Charles Leclerc hasn't exactly been shy about showing off his relationship with the party princess. Expensive dinners where they book out entire restaurants, taking her across the world and back with him, having her attend races.

It seemed as though the world was happy for them. Princess Y/N was finally thriving.

At least, according to what the couple let us see.

It had been a while since anybody saw Monaco's couple out and about together. This didn't seem like too big of a deal. They were busy people with their own lives still. We at The Monaco Press didn't think much of it.

Which is why we were all shock and a little heartbroken to see Charles Leclerc out to dinner with...

There was a knock at the door, pulling her attention away from her old laptop. Henri leaned against the door frame, eyes red with unshed tears. "Uh, the doctor said it should only be a matter of days," he said and wiped at his eyes. "I think you should stay here until he... goes."

"Hen-"

"Please," he begging, joining her on the bed. "For me."

Those few days at the palace were the worst of her life. Just waiting for death to come for her father. And it did. Three days after she'd told him she was marrying Charles Leclerc, he passed away.

His family had been gathered by his bedside. His wife was crying, his son crying with her. But not his daughter. She stared down at him as he took his final breath, hands shoved into her pockets.

A bitter and twisted feeling filled her. She'd lied to him. The last thing she'd said to her father was a lie, and she'd never get a chance to fix it. He'd been so proud when he thought she was going to marry Charles, but it hadn't been real. Pride born of a lie isn't really pride at all.

She went back to her apartment that night and cried. How could she be in the palace when her fathers body was there, when the staff was rushing around to make a statement and funeral arrangements?

She cried so hard that she threw up.

And, when she was finished, she pulled her phone out of the drawer and looked at her messages.

Only the ones from Charles, she couldn't looking at what Henri had sent to her before their father died.

Charles had sent her so many messages, given her so many chances. And she'd ignored all of them. But that final message. Oh, she was going to be sick all over again.

I can't do this when I love you, princess

All of this over something so fucking stupid. If she'd just let him in that night, she'd have him here now, comforting her as she cried. She'd be able to kiss him when she wanted, wouldn't have to read articles about him on dates with other girls.

Desperately she typed, sending several messages all at once, begging him for something. Forgiveness. Another chance. Something.

All of them were left undelivered.

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[mr-inkslinger]

ARTHUR MORGAN walked into your shared hotel room without knocking because he wasn't used to you tagging along with him. He walked in to see your legs spread, fingers deep inside your aching, dripping cunt your other hand working your clit. He should've walked away. He should've. He was going to as well, until you whimpered his naming as your hips lifted off the bed. You hadn't even noticed him. He should've walked. You were just a pretty young thing. He shouldn't have gotten you tangled up into him and his mess anyways.

He didn't even realize how heavy his breathing had grown, how tight his pants were. Shit.

Now, you were none the wiser to his presence, so caught up in trying to imagine what it would be like to be with him. His fingers were thick, thicker than yours. It was hard to imagine what it'd be like to have him finger you because he'd stretch you out better with two fingers than the three you had inside of you. Even harder to imagine his thumb working your clit with the same hand, given the fact that you needed two to do what he could with a singular hand. Your head tilted back in a low groan, half of it was from pleasure but the other half was from sheer frustration. You'd done your best to signal that you were interested. Bordering on desperate, at this point. You'd tried everything, touching his shoulder, batting your eyelashes, playing dumb. None of it worked. At all. At this point you had figured he just wasn't interested, so you'd have to settle for your imagination.

A floorboard creaked under Arthur's foot as he tried to take a step back. But it gave him away. You jumped and he jumped, even though he was aware of you and you noticing him. He stumbled to face the door, his skin burning with embarrassment from the encounter. He felt shame, severe shame. "I'm sorry, I-I thought you were asleep and then-"

"You crept up on cat's paws, Arthur."

"Like I said, I thought you'd be asleep."

"Well, I ain't."

"Clearly."

There was a pause, as you sat there, naked. Half covered but still, naked all the same. Naked and moaning his name and completely vulnerable because of what he does to you and he won't even look at you. You sighed, heavy, deep, disappointed. He very clearly didn't want you. "I'm sorry, Arthur.. that was.. embarrassing."

"My fault, really.. shouldn't have barged in and sure as hell shouldn't have lingered." Another huff from you. "Why are you huffin' and puffin'?" He asked you, despite facing the door, he was at least talking to you.

"Because.. well, because of you!"

"Me?" He almost turned around to shoot you a look of incredulous disbelief. "The hell did I do?"

"Beside barging in here, disturbing my private life? You didn't do anything and that's the problem!"

Arthur shook his head, trying to figure out what the fuck that even meant. "So, lemme get this straight. You're mad at me for doing something by not doing something?"

"Arthur, turn around." You had asked him gently, if he could just see how desperately you needed him, maybe he'd give you what you wanted. However, Arthur was reluctant, he just glanced over his shoulder at you. There you were, showing yourself to him. Fuck. Soft thighs and smooth stomach, he figured each of your breasts would fit perfect in his hands. He swallowed thickly, trying to get his brain to make some thought or action, something. "Can't you see that I want you- need you. Arthur, I need you." This was it, a last ditch attempt to get him to see that you wanted him this badly.

You leaned back and spread yourself for him, maintaining eye contact with the one that peered at you over his broad shoulder. His breathing grew deeper. You could see the way he broke away from your gaze to follow the dainty hand you were dropping to your cunt. The way you curled your fingers in and how you weakly bucked against your own palm. He turned to look at you, really look at you. He took a step closer, watching your chest heave and how you blushed under his gaze. He could see your struggle. How you whined and writhed and yet you seemed unable to satisfy yourself how you wanted.

Your free hand furiously rubbed at your clit, desperate to come for him, to really show him how bad you wanted him. Your eyes fluttered a few times but never enough to not look at him. You watched him chuckle, adjusting himself in his jeans. The way his hand lingered, you could see the outline of his dick. Bigger than you anticipated and that was saying something.

His hand clutched himself a little tighter as your breath hitched. "Easy now, easy.." His voice soft, deep. He spoke from his chest. His eyes trained on your weeping cunt, the way your fingers dipped in, the way it dripped around them, glistening in the low light of the room. He kept approaching, step by step as you worked yourself up more. "Nice and easy."

He reached out, a large hand gripping your knee, his thumb rubbing circles. His touch was slow and languid, you focused on the rhythm and stroked your clit to match it. He wasn't stupid, he caught onto that quick. "There ya go... just like that." His hand slid higher, testing the water as he leaned over you. Just enough to add pressure to your personal space he'd taken up residency in. His words of encouragement and seeing his hand hadn't stopped palming his cock made it easy for you to notice that you weren't the only one desperate. He leaned down further, sinking to his knees, his face dangerously close between your thighs. The scruffy cheeks in a dangerously close position to where you've wanted for too damn long.

"Arthur.." That earned you a small smirk, a soft chuckle that was broken. He leaned closer to you, his hand gripping your wrist.

"Want some help?" It didn't take much deliberation before you were nodding, pulling your hand away. His replaced yours, the rough pads of his fingers tentatively stroking down over your clit to your entrance. He marveled at how slick you were. "All of this over me?" He grinned, not ever waiting for an answer as he pressed a finger into you. "God damn.." He could feel how tight you were around his finger, your walls trembling for him. He shook his head, setting his hat aside as he curled his finger. "Oh, you're sweet on me alright." He listened to you keen above him, how your hard gripped his bicep.

This was a dream come true for you. He pumped his finger in and out, slowly, working you up to take another one of his digits and as he slipped on in, the stretch was better than you imagined. Poor Arthur, helplessly rutted against the mattress, the friction was enough for now. He leaned forward the rest of the way, stealing a kiss against your clit. Your hips lurched as your hand carded through his hair. Your touch encouraged him to stay close. His tongue was sinfully warm against you, it was overwhelming being stuffed with his hand and being devoured by his mouth. He hummed graciously as his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucked and licked and swirled it, like it was a nice aged whiskey that he was savoring. A taste test. He clearly enjoyed it, the way his eyes were screwed shut and he moaned into your core.

It was building you up, rapidly. You felt hot and you couldn't help the aggressive grip you had on his hair. His brow twitched with a wince as you tugged it again. He groaned into your folds, the vibration and primal experience of it caused you to tremble. Maybe he just made you tremble. Your moans grew and he made no attempt to silence them. He wouldn't let up, it was overstimulating the way he was eating you. The way his fingers curled with precision and made delicious noises from your pussy. The squelch of his digits dragging against your walls only to be pressed back in with enough force that it did feel like he was fucking you. With intention, purpose. He was seeking to bring you to that edge.

You breathing had become irregular, like your brain had shut off and it wasn't even something you could imagine doing. You were so caught up in all of it, you tried to pull his head away. "Stop- Arthur, I'm gunna come." You tried to push his face away, embarrassed at the idea of coming on his face. He shook his head, his tongue continuing to slurp you up, the more he consumed you the wetter you got. You could see he was covered in you from cheek bones to jaw. His fingers bumping against his chin as he dragged them across your walls, mapping you out. Every ridge and flex of muscle.

His insistence was paying off when he felt your pussy constrict on his fingers, he never stilled though. He worked you right through it, his own hips grinding against the mattress. His free hand reached under you, gripping a chunk of the meat of your ass, holding you tight and close to his mouth. He hummed and moaned, sounding like a starved man given a five course meal. You pawed at his face, feeling your own juices drenching your thighs and his wrist.

He pulled away for a moment, flashing you a crooked grin. "You're a good girl, y'know? All pretty and wrecked f'me. I ain't finished with you, though.."

[koolades-world]

one of my besties had me watch the madison beer mv of make you mine and it's actually such a good song. i love that the entire thing is jennifer's body themed. you know it's bad when i think of fictional characters while i listen to the song haha. sorry if mephi's dialogue seems a little ooc, not super familiar with his speech patterns yet

i'm really bad at giving things titles as you can see haha. highly recommend giving it a listen or listening while you read this <3

also i just learnt mephisto has an undercut? it's actually black so is purple not his natural hair color? he'd look really pretty with black hair but part of me wonders if he dyed it purple to look different from lucifer

anyways sorry this is so late! got busy hanging out with friends and the thing i had originally wanted to post wasn't ready, and i just really wanted to post this haha. enjoy :)

make u mine (mephisto x reader)

Mephisto had never meant to end up in such a compromising situation with the human exchange student, of all people. Not that it being anyone else would have made it better, but at least You looked absolutely ravishing in your party wear, and despite everything in him telling him to look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. Had you placed a spell on him?

It all started with a few words overheard in a conversation between Diavolo and Lucifer. Of course, he hadn't meant to overhear what they were saying on purpose. He could thank the journalist inside him unconsciously picking up on many side conversations at the same time, and that one in particular happened to catch his interest. Listening to Mammon and Asmo talk about the latest party they were going to could wait. His attention was fully captured when he heard the phrase "exchange program." That phrase always meant a scoop was just around the bend.

He had no clue that this "scoop" would slowly consume every waking moment he occupied.

Once the time came that for the program to start, he didn't expect to be greeted with two very different humans. One was a powerful sorcerer he knew rather well, from a distance of course, and the other was a seeming nobody. He thought it was odd, but he wanted to interview you nonetheless to get your thoughts on the program. He was interested in learning about you. It started as the beginnings of an article he knew would perform well, and morphed into personal curiosity.

Getting you alone proved difficult. One of those pesky brothers was always with you, and they seemed very insistent on keeping you two apart. They must've received some kind of instruction from Lucifer, as even Satan seemed intent on staying between the two of you. He had been sitting the the RAD newspaper room, alone, pondering over this exact dilemma, when his problem resolved itself when you came barreling the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"Hey." You were out of breath. Your hair was a mess and a half smile on your face. Your back was pressed to the door. The moment he made eye contact with you was a moment he couldn't quite put words to, despite being excellent at that. He found it hard to look away from you.

He was speechless at first at the crazy coincidence, as if his thoughts had summoned you. "Ehem. How may I help you?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Will you do me a tinsy little favor and hide me? Pretty please?" The way you batted your eyelashes at him made his heart immediately cave to your demands, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold.

"Will you agree to do an interview with me if I do?" He spun the question around on you. He had wanted to ask anyways. He wasn't one to pass up an opportunity presented to him on a silver platter.

"Deal. Quick, Lucifer probably wasn't far behind me." You rushed towards him, taking his hand. This shook him for the second time in less than a minute. Hurriedly, he shoved you behind the printing press that occupied one side of the room and turned it on to cover up any noise you might make. No sooner than he had done this, Lucifer threw the door open.

"Didn't you hear me knocking?" The demon looked just out of sort as you had, but angry rather than amused like you were. He hadn't seen anyone get such a rise out of Lucifer in a while. He was interested in hearing your story. Lucifer's eyes scanned the room in search of you, but only grew more irate upon finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"No. I'm busy." Mephisto turned his back to Lucifer to conceal his growing grin.

"Mc isn't in here, are they?" Lucifer remained in the doorway.

"What do you think? This a writing sanctuary, not a daycare." Mephisto picked up one of the papers printed, pretending to look busy. Lucifer huffed, annoyed.

"Watch yourself, cocky journalist." With that, Lucifer spun around and left the room. He left the door slightly ajar, making Mephisto the most annoyed he'd been during that entire interaction. After pushing the door shut, he called out to you.

"He's gone. You have quite the story to tell, hmm?" He grabbed his notepad and pen, beckoning you to take a seat on the couch beside him.

"Turn off the noisemaker, then we can talk." You sat beside him after coming out of hiding. With a playful sigh, he got back up to shut it off so he could really begin to talk to you.

That was his first real conversation with you without one of the brothers present, and he suddenly understood their desire to keep you to themselves. Thankfully, after that day, he had his foot in the door and you were more than happy to speak to him despite the brother's protests. The scowl on Lucifer's face from over your shoulder as you happily chatted with him was worth the world to him because Mephisto knew that Lucifer wouldn't try anything; not with you with your hands all over him, anyways. He adored being the center of your attention despite the fact that several brothers were watching closely. You often slipped away from the brothers and escaped to the room you knew he'd be in. He didn't know if what you were doing was intentional or not, but he began to grow conditioned to seeing you laid out on the plush sofa by his desk, or parked on the desk itself, waiting for him with a smile and open arms. It got to the point where he was certain he saw more of you that any of the brothers did.

He was unsure about how to feel, but he welcomed you into his life readily. It became more than just being with you to make Lucifer mad. It became being with you just to be with you, because he enjoyed your company. However, he always felt as if he left something to be desired when he thought about you. You always left his heart aflutter with your touches, even though he wanted to assume it was just how you behaved normally.

A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his arm, a hand on his. Sometimes, a hand on his waist, fingers looped through his belt loops. A hand on his chest, playing with his tie. A hand on his face, thumbs gliding over his cheeks. A hand on his thigh, hidden under the table.

They all drove him insane.

It was then he realized he harbored some sort of feelings for the human who'd initially started as just the topic of an article he was writing. He craved your attention and wanted to be as close to you as possible. He knew that went past what he'd initially thought about himself. While you were simply a human, you were a human who'd managed to capture the affections of the seven demon lords, and beyond.

A party at his place was what finally unraveled everything. Despite it being his party and therefore, the center of attention, he was only interested in one person. He knew you'd gotten ready in his bedroom as an effort to prevent the brothers from stopping you from going. They, of course, weren't invited, but he wouldn't be surprised if they showed up always once they realized where you were. He knew at this point, he should just give you your own room. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He had many empty bedrooms and could easily make one into yours, but he loved sharing his space with you. Something inside him loved seeing your things intermingled with his, and he didn't want to part with that.

But, he hadn't seen you since he went downstairs to begin greeting guests. His eyes scanned the room, searching for you. He thought he saw the flash of a familiar blond head of hair, but he swept past that. His gaze soon settled on the person he was looking for: you. You were chatting with another guest, but as soon as you noticed his stare, you excused yourself from the conversation to make your way over to him. He began to think about you, and how much happier he'd be once you were by his side. He greeted you enthusatically and told you how amazing you looked. You naturally slotted into his side, hands on his shoulders.

In his haze, he failed to notice someone behind him. They bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink all over you. He quickly turned to reprimand them, and to catch their face, but they had vanished into the crowd before he could. Mephisto clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. The perpetrator had been swallowed by the evermoving crowd of people. Instead, he went back to you, and decided to help you get cleaned up. You seemed nonchalant about the entire situation, and were happy holding his hand as he dragged you up the stairs to his room.

"Mephi, there's no need to be so worked up. It's a simple fix. If the stain doesn't come out, it was only twenty bucks anways." You kept pace with him.

"It's a matter of dignity. Whoever that was embarrassed me, and now I look like a total moron." He couldn't look at you. His face was most certainly red.

"Not to me you don't." Those words quelled the inner calamity he had a little.

"Well, either way, the stain will set in if we don't do something about it now." He pulled you into his room and locked the door behind you. The last thing he wanted was some nosy demon wandering in after the two of you. If you didn't care what they thought, why should he? But, he didn't want his time with you to be interrupted.

He peered into his closet for something for you to wear. Usually, you had clothes here, hung up, something he was rather proud of, but everything but a couple R.A.D. uniforms were gone. Earlier that day, he'd instructed his staff to wash all your laundry, clean or not, with a new detergent that the both of you quickly fell in love with at the store. It had become both of yours, in a way, and he went feral over the idea of the brothers constantly being reminded of him even when he wasn't around through you.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" He leant out of his closet to yell to you.

"Depends. Anyone important down there?" You responded through the shut bathroom door.

"Not really. Lord Diavolo couldn't make it tonight." He already knew what you were going to say in responce.

"Then we can just get ready for bed. My RAD bag is in here somewhere, so I don't technically have to go home. If you'll let me stay, that is." He heard you laugh through the door. He chortled to himself at that too. You didn't even need to ask anymore. You slept in his bed with him, for crying out loud. You even had your own D.D.D. charger for his house at his side table, right next to his.

"Are you alright with wearing my pajamas to bed? Yours are in the wash." He riffled through his wardrobe to find a very nice pair for you. He eventually settled on one of his sets of black silk pajamas. He wasn't sure if the pants would fit you, but at least you'd have a shirt.

"You know me." You extended your hand through the cracked bathroom door, to which he tossed the clothes into your open hand. You caught them, and snapped the door shut again to put them on. "Mephi, the pants are a little big." He heard you say through the door. Just as he thought. He'd never actually seen you in a set of his clothes before, so he silently prepared himself to feast his eyes. Despite this, he was not ready for you when you stepped in from the bathroom. The blank pants were draped over your arms, and the black button up top fell to your mid thigh. "Just hang these back up. No use in trying that." You put them back into his hands, and threw yourself down onto his bed. He did as you asked, and sat next to you.

"Are your other clothes still in the bathroom?" He studied your side profile.

"Yeah, on the counter." You answered his questions.

"I'll be right back. I'll give those to one of my staff, who'll get the stain out and get it looking brand new." He moved to get back up, but was stopped by your hand reaching out to him.

"Not yet. Let me enjoy a little time with you first." You whined. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll be quick." He moved to get up again, but this time, you got up before him and pushed him back down onto the bed. You straddled him, hands on both of his shoulders, pressing him into his bed.

"You've got no choice now." You triumphally smirked down at him. He knew he could easily get up, but he knew he wouldn't. You knew that too.

"Mc..." He was rather amused, but he couldn't stop from thinking about his feelings for you. Most of his confidence went out the window with that thought.

"I win." With that, you draped yourself over him fully, and Mephisto basked in your attention. As he thought more, while he really didn't want to, his heart told him now would be a great time to tell you how he felt. With the thought of now or never echoing in his brain, he opened his mouth again.

"Mc, I have a confession." He was nervous, more than he'd ever been. But, he was too deep in now to back out.

"Hmm?" You didn't sit up, and remained with your head on his chest.

"I think I'm in love with you." For someone usually so eloquent with his words, these were raw. Thankfully, they seemed to strike a chord with you. You perked up. He studied your face closely for any sort of negative reaction, but none came.

"Can I kiss you?" He was almost stunned by your reciprocation. He wasn't quite sure exactly how you felt yet, but that could wait until after his kiss.

"You may." Spilling that drink on you may have been the second best choice he ever made, the first being deciding to write about you to begin with. He was one lucky demon.

(end was a little rushed cause i'm sleepy haha)

[distort-opia]

Could you maybe explain to me what exactly Jason's problem with Bruce was/is when he came back?

Maybe I'm being stupid but I don't know. Like, I know there's this space between Jason's resurrection and Talia finding him... and Jason returing for a sec to kill Bruce, then changing his mind, and went back to Talia to plan The Ultimatum and travel the world a bit.

I went off the assumption that Jason thought Bruce didn't care enough for him to kill the Joker and then the whole stupid thing with the batarang to the neck after everyone thought Dick died.

But, like, Jason kind of destroyed his relationship with the batfam himself with the whole coming out of nowhere and trying to hurt/traumatize/kill them. I don't mean to hate on Jason specifically, I just don't get him on a fundamental level.

Would really appreciate if somebody could clear that up, I'm kind of desperate. Like I have most of the facts but it seems like a jigzaw puzzle with too many pieces and I can't make sense of it.

To be honest, I don't understand your confusion fully? You pretty much explained it yourself, why Jason was angry at Bruce after he came back. Even Judd Winick, the writer of Under the Red Hood, says it very concisely (in this interview):

When it comes to Jason's relationships with the Batfam, I'll once again let Winick explain his vision (transcription of a podcast episode to be found here):

You say that Jason harmed his relationship with the Batfam himself as if Jason's intention had been to have good relationships with them. At the times he went after Tim or Dick or Damian, I don't think he cared much about that, hah. Most of his choices at the time could be boiled down to "What would piss off Bruce the most, either directly or by proxy?"... and also, "What would get Bruce's attention the most?". Because that's what made it complicated, right. Jason wouldn't have gone to these extremes if he didn't care about Bruce.

As to things not making sense... you're not being stupid, I'm sorry to say that at least to me, it's impossible to reconcile all of Jason's actions within a coherent character. Just because he was written by different people in different continuities with very different goals (though maybe more accurately, by some writers lacking a goal, as in not really knowing what to do with him). This is true for most comic book characters, not just Jason; true consistency is a pipe dream when the history of a character spans decades. Keeping that in mind, my personal approach is forming an idea of the original core traits of a character (which is why I gave examples of what Winick himself said), and then filtering their subsequent portrayals through that. Some comics will be horribly OOC despite them technically being canon and you simply have to go the "I recognize that the Council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision I've elected to ignore it" route. Then there's, of course, your personal preferences; you can choose what is canon to you because you like it, and form your idea of a character around those instances-- though here I'd always warn to never stop being aware that it's your idea of the character. There is no absolute truth, and we're all playing in a sandbox. Other people will choose other instances of canon, or try to reconcile all of them somehow, and your ideas might not jive. That's perfectly fine.

That being said, while I do like Jason a lot, he isn't my full-time blorbo, so I'm sure other Jason scholars could respond to this much better than I did! If anyone wants to add more in-depth answers, please do.

[buddiebitch]

no hate but i truly am not seeing what all these bucktommy endgame truthers are seeing

in the few 1 on 1 scenes they have together, to me, it seems not just awkward, but like the writing and framing is intentionally pointing out the awkwardness

like, he’s uncomfortable being seen on a date with Tommy (despite having no issue in s2 when the elf lady thought him, Christopher, and Eddie were a whole family?)

not to mention how astronomically strange that kitchen kiss scene was (idk where y’all are getting cute/romantic but maybe that’s just me). Tommy kissed him to stop him from talking, asked him if it was okay afterwards, then proceeded to make entire date plans with very little input from Buck, who pretty much just stands there confused the entire time (not trying to insinuate in any way that Tommy assaulted him, he def seemed into it but that whole scene seemed very strange and forceful to me)

that paired with the scene when they met up after Tommy (rudely if i might add) cut their first date short and he insists it was because he didn’t want to pressure him? strange since he didn’t seem to have a problem pressuring Buck when he kissed him without asking and planned the whole date for him.

everyone’s already pointed out the bachelor party scene but i feel like i need to as well, Tommy chose not to dress up despite presumably knowing how much it meant to Buck, and then intentionally down played it when Buck pointed it out (idk the “they had henleys in the 80s” line seemed way to rude and dismissive to not be intentional)

and maybe it’s just me misreading it, because obviously at the beginning of any relationship there’s going to be some tension, but idk

we know that the writing and symbolism in this show is very intentional so im not inclined to believe so many people would notice it if it wasn’t meant to be noticed.

i have so many more opinions but this post is getting too long (i also have opinions on how all of this points towards buddie as well but that’s WAY too much to put in this post)

[shion-yu]

Day 11: Passing out

Using @medwhumpmay to finally finish this full length Shu sickfic! 5,065 words. Written for my @badthingshappenbingo space “Working Through the Cold” and inspired by this prompt by @snzzenby641 “A horrid boss with an equally horrid cold being less than careful with their germs.” CW: Contagion, mild mess, sneezing, coughing, fever, stuffy talk, ft. Shu’s 14 y/o son.

The second Shu hears his boss sneezing, he knows he’s going to catch whatever it is that’s causing it. He’s never had a very good immune system to begin with, but it was when he was in college that his body seemed to have made the decision to no longer put up a fight against any cold that passed by him. This is a particularly bad thing for Shu because even though he has enough PTO to go on vacation for a month, his boss, Harrison, often denies even more reasonable time off requests.

Harrison is the type to work through a cold, and therefore he expects everybody else to as well. Shu’s not sure what one would have to do in order to be excused for a few days off without getting guilt tripped into coming back early - perhaps a catastrophic earthquake would do. As long as the office was still standing, probably not. Harrison lacks the trait of empathy, Shu thinks, but in a competitive market this is an advantage.

“WEI!” Shu already knows he's in trouble by the way Harrison is screaming his name. He's been trying to avoid being in close contact with his boss all morning in some attempt to avoid Harrison’s very contagious sounding sneezes, but once he enters the lion's den it’ll be all over for him. Shu sighs, straightens his tie out, and knocks on the door of Harrison's office before entering.

"Yes sir?" Shu says, standing up straight.

"Took your sweedt timb," Harrison says, his normally punctuated speech blunted with heavy congestion. He looks pretty bad, Shu thinks. His hair is messy, his eyes are watery and red rimmed, and Shu questions why someone so critical can't tell that he really ought to be in bed right now. Stubbornness, probably. "Your performance review,” Harrison says. “Sit.”

Ah, yes. The dreaded quarterly one-on-one where Harrison points out everything Shu needs to do better and nothing he’s done right. Shu reluctantly sits across from Harrison’s desk, trying not to fixate on the overflowing trash can of used tissues next to him. Harrison lets out several harsh, wet coughs that he only half-covers with his hand, then pushes a small packet of papers over towards Shu with the exact same hand. Shu winces but picks it up and begins reading aloud just how much he sucks at his job, just like Harrison likes it.

Harrison is smirking as usual as Shu reads. He’s definitely a sadist. Otherwise, why would he make them read these in front of him like it’s confession? However he also seems distracted today by the beast of a head cold he has, unable to go more than thirty seconds without sneezing, coughing, or both. He snorts up what sounds like a very thick noseful of mucus up and grunts, rubbing his temple. If he wasn’t such an ass, Shu would feel bad for him. Instead he just feels doomed.

Once Shu finishes reading his review, Harrison asks him the required follow up questions that he always does. “Would you agree with your review? Whadt can I do better as your boss?” Snort. “How would you rate yourself?”

The thing is, answering any of these questions with honesty is a surefire way to be working overtime for the next several weeks. So Shu just answers pleasantly, as he’s supposed to: “It sounds good. Nothing. I’d say I could improve in the areas you mentioned in my review.”

Harrison nods in approval. Believe it or not, Harrison actually likes Shu. He’s a hard worker, he doesn’t cause problems, and he never asks for raises. Shu is the quintessential office grunt as far as Harrison is concerned: quiet and obedient. The people who aren’t? Don’t last very long around here.

Shu, on the other hand, has lasted at this company for over ten years. He’s the longest working consultant for this marketing firm’s location and he even started before Harrison. Shu only has a bachelors, though, so he’s never been promoted to anything farther than senior marketing consultant. He doesn’t supervise, he doesn’t make big decisions, and he most certainly does not make waves.

That is, until he suddenly became a single father to an unruly twelve-year-old who needs Shu’s attention constantly. Shu took unexpected parental leave for four weeks when Alex came to live with him, much to the disdain of Harrison. And when he came back, Shu was different. Work was no longer the number one thing on his mind. These days, Shu answers his personal phone during work in case he has to leave when the school calls him because Alex has caused trouble again, which happens often. He gets sick way more frequently because he’s not used to kid germs and he’s always tired, leading to little mistakes in his paperwork that he always would have caught before. His black hair is quickly turning gray and for the first time in Shu’s life, he cares more about another person than his corporate job.

For Shu, this change is good. Raising Alex is tough, sure, but it’s rewarding and an experience he never would have had otherwise. He loves Alex and doesn’t mind that his relationship with work is changing.

Others don’t agree. Namely, Harrison.

So when Shu comes the following week sniffling and sneezing every few minutes just like Harrison was, all he gets in response is annoyance. In fact, Harrison seems to have complete amnesia about the part where he undoubtedly gave Shu this hell of a cold with his less than stellar public health habits and actually seems to be punishing Shu with more work. He tosses a large folder of paperwork on Shu’s desk and says, “I need this before you leave today.”

Shu has his nose buried in an over-used tissue, the rough ones that the office provides that were the cheapest money could buy. “Yes sir,” he mutters into it. His nose is chapped and bright red from blowing it into the sandpaper-quality tissues all morning.

Mathias comes up shortly after with a bottle of DayQuil and a look of abject pity. “You shouldn’t have even come in,” he says matter of factly.

“Too late,” Shu croaks. His voice is going already and speaking causes him to fall into a fit of harsh coughing. He doubles over, pushing his wheeled office chair backwards from the desk and coughing, and coughing. He’s not sure he can stop.

He feels Mathias’ hand on his back and a bottle of water is shoved into his grasp. “Drink,” Mathias orders.

Shu does. The cool liquid burns as it goes down his raw throat, but it’s also soothing and he finally manages to stop coughing. Mathias cringes just observing him - darker than usual circles under the eyes and greasy hair is not a good look for Shu. “Dude. Go home.”

Shu shakes his head, motioning to the stack of papers on his desk. “Can’t,” he rasps. “I’ll probably have to stay late finishing this stuff.” At least Alex is fourteen now and Shu trusts him enough to stay at home by himself for a few extra hours. When Alex had first come to live with him, nearly two years ago now, Shu had been terrified to leave him alone for even a second.

“Give me half, I’ll help,” Mathias says. He doesn’t wait for Shu to deny him - which he knows Shu will - and snatches the two top binder clips full of paperwork off Shu’s stack of many. Shu nods, unable to bring himself to fight back when he’s feeling this lousy.

By the end of the regular work day, Shu’s sure he won’t get out of here until at least seven, maybe eight PM. He’s working slower than usual thanks to how much his head aches and how many breaks he’s had to take to sneeze and cough himself into seeing black spots in front of him. His arms and even his fingers hurt, the hair on his own head prickling uncomfortably as if affected by static electricity. He’s also freezing and has resorted to swearing his jacket over his usual business attire, but he doesn’t think it’s done much to warm him up.

“You definitely have a fever,” Mathias tells him. “Harrison can find someone else to do this shit.”

“I’m already on thin ice,” Shu says weakly.

“So? He gave you this plague,” Mathias says. But Harrison is his boss too, and he knows just as well as Shu that that’s not how it works around here. He himself only stays at this job for the health insurance, and because he has twin baby girls and a wife at home to make a living for.

“Wei,” a sharp voice makes them both jump in their office chairs. Shu resists letting out an exhausted sigh.

“Yes sir?” Harrison is standing a few feet away from him, coat on and ready to go right on time as usual. What he has to rush off to, no one knows given the man’s perpetually single and lives alone.

“I still expect that paperwork on my desk by the time I come in tomorrow,” Harrison says. “And remember we have the board meeting tomorrow at nine, so don’t be late.”

Shu forgot about the board meeting. He also wants to throw up at the idea of presenting his numbers in front of his seniors when he feels like even standing up is a bad idea right now. He swallows and nods numbly.

Mathias attempts to defend him. “Sir, I don’t think Shu will be able to come in tomorrow, he’s sick as a dog,” he says. Shu feels a rush of emotion that Mathias still defends him like this, even though he’s younger and has no reason to stick his neck out for Shu when he also needs this job.

“I expect a hospital note if he’s that sick,” Harrison says sharply. He glares at both of his underlings who don’t respond again. Then he stalks out of the office to enjoy his night beginning on time without any kids to take care of at home.

Mathias shakes his head, muttering profanities under his breath. Shu just coughs, whispers, “Thank you,” and goes back to his work.

It turns out that thanks to various errors in the data, Shu stays in the office until past nine that night. Mathias leaves around seven, apologizing profusely but Shu brushes him off and says he’s done more than enough to help. Mathias has a family waiting for him at home and a wife who won’t be very happy if he’s any later than he already is. Then Shu’s left alone in the office space, which feels even colder at night and the only sounds to listen to are the clicks of his keyboard and his own miserable sniffling.

He calls Alex to let him know he won’t be able to come home until later, apologizing and telling him to order whatever he wants for delivery food. Alex seems annoyed and just says, “Fine,” before hanging up. Shu rubs his painful sinuses in exasperation and hopes Alex isn’t too angry.

Once he’s sure the numbers are to perfection, Shu finally slaps the pile of completed paperwork on Harrison’s desk and drags himself home. When he leaves the office building it’s dark. The cool night air hits his skin and makes him shiver, then cough. He stumbles a little in the doorway and presses his now burning face into the entryway, letting a self indulgent groan escape from his lips. He feels like shit, he has an angry teenager to go home to, and he has to be back here in less than ten hours to prepare for that board meeting. He lets himself think, ‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ for another thirty seconds before standing up, slapping his hot cheeks and shaking it off. It’s just a cold. His kid and work come first.

Shu drives home without incident, although by the time he pulls into the driveway the flow of undeterred snot has made its way all down his chin. He’s disgusting. He wipes his face with his suit jacket sleeve - which he immediately regrets because now he needs to get it dry cleaned before he can wear it again - and stumbles into the house.

The first stop he makes is Alex’s bedroom to make sure his son is fed and safe. He knocks and cracks the door, peaking in to see the teenager sprawled on his stomach in bed reading a book. Just a bit of the tension he’s held in his shoulders all afternoon dissipates.

“Sorry I’mb so late,” Shu says. His voice is barely there and it hurts to speak. He feels as if he’s gargled rocks. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, not looking up. Shu knows he’s mad about his being late.

“What’d you get?” Shu asks, leaning against the doorframe because his legs are starting to feel like jello and his head is spinning.

“Pizza,” Alex answers. “I left some for you.”

“Thanks bud,” Shu says. His face suddenly scrunches up and he lets out two very loud, very wet sneezes into his suit jacket sleeve, since it’s already a lost cause. “Excuse mbe.”

Alex does look up finally, a punctuated frown on his face. “You shouldn’t have stayed late if you’re already sick,” he points out accusingly.

“I know,” Shu sighs. But it’s not like he had any choice. Alex doesn’t quite understand that though - Shu never tells him about his job, or his boss, or how much Harrison’s grown to dislike him ever since Shu decided Alex was his priority over his desk job. The kid has enough things to worry about without being made to feel like a burden. “Im’b gonna stick to mby room, don’t want you to catch this alright? Do you need adnything though?”

“No,” Alex says. Shu takes this as his cue to leave the surly teen alone, but Alex adds when he’s halfway out the door, “You gonna stay home tomorrow?”

Shu shakes his head no, coughing meanwhile. “Meeting, but if I can come home early I will,” he says when he manages to catch his breath again. Alex doesn’t say anything else, but his mouth is set in a thin, disapproving line. “Goodnighdt,” Shu says, then shuffles off to his bedroom where he is finally able to let out the torrent of violent sneezes he’s been holding back since he got home. He feels dizzy with the release and blows his nose with blessedly softer tissues than the ones he was forced to use at the office, barely possessing the energy to get into sleep clothes before collapsing on bed.

He knows he should eat and probably take medicine, but he’s one hundred percent spent. He doesn’t think he can even get to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he just needs to sleep immediately. He passes out with the lights still on and his blankets clutched tightly around him, shivering.

What feels like ten minutes later, his six AM alarm goes off. Shu cannot fathom how this is possibly correct, but the clock on his bedside table states otherwise. The sharp tone of his alarm feels like it’s stabbing him in the head with every beep and Shu turns it off with a loud groan - which turns into a series of miserable coughs that sound even more congested than yesterday. He can feel all the nighttime mucus in the back of his throat crackling and breaking up as he coughs, which hurts like someone slapping rubber bands against his throat.

Still, Shu drags himself upright, throws on the first suit he can find that isn’t covered in snot, and half heartedly fixes himself up in the bathroom. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and cringes because he looks absolutely awful. His face is pale white and he needs a shave and a shower badly. The energy required to complete these tasks is nowhere to be found though, so he settles for splashing some sink water on his face and calls it good enough. When he blows his nose, it seems there is no end to the thick, greenish snot that comes out.

Alex isn’t awake yet, but the high school is three blocks away so he walks. Besides his suspensions, Alex has good attendance and Shu doesn’t worry about him skipping school. He’s a good kid, despite what some of the guidance counselors believe. Shu fixes Alex his lunch as always, although he forgoes preparing anything with his bare hands and just throws in an accumulation of pre-packaged goods and gives it a spritz of Clorox spray too. Alex rarely gets sick, but Shu doesn’t want to take any chances.

By seven Shu’s out the door, stumbling over his own feet to the garage and praying he makes it to work safely. He feels miserably sick, he can’t even pretend to deny it. But he also feels like he has no other choice but to show up after Harrison made such a point about coming to the meeting yesterday.

When he gets to his desk, Mathias is already at his and his expression leaves nothing to the imagination when he sees Shu. “Jesus Christ, get out of here,” he says.

Shu sneezes in response. “I’d love to,” he croaks. He practically collapses into his office chair, head spinning.

Mathias strides over to him and slaps a hand on Shu’s forehead, unfazed by the way Shu startles. It’s this behavior that made Shu first fall in love with the guy, Shu thinks hopelessly. It’s an unrequited, decade-long crush that will never, ever go anywhere. Shu was the best man at Mathias’ wedding for goodness sake. Best friends is good enough. “You’ve got a hell of a fever,” Mathias says disapprovingly. “Maybe you should go make a show of being a plague rat in Harrison’s office. He might kick you out.”

Shu forces a weak smile at him, closing his eyes and just letting himself enjoy the touch of a cool hand for a few indulgent seconds. Mathias lets go all too soon and hands him a bag of cough drops. “Thought you could use these, I brought them from home.”

“What would I do without you?” Shu murmurs tiredly. Mathias pats his shoulder and goes back to his desk. The cough drops are lemon and honey flavored, which are Shu’s favorite. There was a time several years ago, long before Mathias had a wife and kids, when he and Shu lived together. Mathias must have remembered from back then.

The first hour of the day is spent preparing for the board meeting, during which Shu becomes increasingly uncomfortable. He tugs at his tie and even unbuttons the top two bottoms of his shirt, something that’s unlike him. His coughing is impossible to ignore by anyone in the office, as are his wet sneezes that now come in twos and threes. Yesterday at least they were clearing his sinuses temporarily, but now they just hurt and yet do nothing to fix the blockage in his nose. He’s fully aware that he sounds dreadfully contagious and doesn’t blame anyone for avoiding his desk completely.

Ten minutes before nine, Harrison breezes by Shu’s desk and clears his throat loudly to get Shu’s attention. “Go to the bathroom and pull yourself together,” he orders. “Can’t have you looking like you’re going to die in front of the board.”

“Maybe we’d get a sympathy vote if I do,” Shu jokes weakly, but Harrison’s already across the room. For a short, fat man, he’s awful speedy when he wants to be. Shu pushes himself into a standing position, his arms quivering with effort against his desk. He feels terribly dizzy and keeps one hand on the wall as he finds his way to the bathroom. There he washes his face and tries to tell himself he can do this. He’ll present his brief, hopefully without too much trouble with his voice, and then he just has to wait for the rest of his colleagues to finish. By lunch, he’ll be able to go home and crawl into bed, Harrison be damned.

That’s the plan, anyways. But Shu’s plans rarely work out. The meeting has a lot of important people, including Harrison’s boss and the boss of Harrison’s boss. That’s Shu’s great-grandboss, right? He can’t help but giggle under his breath when he thinks of this ridiculous title. Mathias nudges his from under the desk, a concerned look on his face. ‘Hang in there,’ he mouths. Shu blinks himself back to reality where no jokes are allowed at the board meeting.

When it’s his turn, Shu’s stands up and tries not to sway as his vision blurs. “Ahem. Excuse mbe in advance… I’mb getting over a touch of a cold,” he prefaces, as if he’s not right in the trenches of battle with whatever this hell virus is. “This quarter our numbers have been… impacted greatly by…” He’s interrupted by two sneezes that make the world spin. He reaches for the tissues in his jacket pocket and tries to wipe away the mess without blowing the rest out, which is hard to resist when he can’t breathe through his nose and talk at the same time.

“Egsguse mbe,” he mutters. He knows his voice is cracking and between that and the congestion, he’s not entirely sure his colleagues can actually understand what he’s saying. Does anyone really care, though? Probably not. As he goes on, it gets harder and harder to maintain a natural flow of speech. He’s trying to breathe normally, but instead he feels like it sounds absurdly loud in his ears. Actually, everything is too loud, even though nobody except him is talking.

“Mr. Wei? Are you quite alright?”

Shu blinks hard, trying to focus on whoever just said that. He thinks is Harrison’s boss. Or grandboss, now he can’t remember. He catches Mathias staring at him worriedly and clears his throat. “Perfectly fine. Now… we’ve seen a marked increase in… um, sorry, an increase in sales for products that were… talked about… I mean advertised using our new model of… uh…” Suddenly he can’t remember what that model is. He invented the damn model.

“Mr. Wei.” The voice is more stern this time. Then increases to a shout: “Mr. Wei!”

Shu doesn’t know why the old guy is yelling, or why he suddenly feels like he’s suffocating on hot air. “Just…” He grits his teeth in annoyance. “Just give me a…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, because then suddenly everything goes dark and when he opens his eyes, everybody is yelling. So annoying, Shu thinks to himself. If only they’d just shut up. It’s just sales. It’s really not that exciting.

“Shu, hey pal. Are you with me?”

He recognizes that voice, the one closest to him now. His eyes flutter open and he realizes he’s lying on the floor on his back, Mathias above him with his expression full of concern. “There you are. You’re okay. Take a big breath for me.”

“Ugh… Matty, I don’t feel good,” Shu groans. “Think I’m gonna…” Someone shoves a bin under his chin just in time for him to vomit. There’s not much in his stomach, given he hasn’t eaten a meal since lunch yesterday, but the loud noises that come from his throat and stomach don’t sound so little. Shu whimpers, the board room spinning around him. What was he doing here again? He can’t remember. Was he at work?

“It’s okay, we’re gonna get you taken care of,” Mathias soothes him.

Shu smiles despite himself, his head lolling to the side as if he has no control over it. “You’re always so nice to me,” he mumbles. “I think… my sugar feels low.” Shu doesn’t have diabetes, but he is prone to low blood sugar when he doesn’t eat. He remembers that time, almost eight years ago now, when he fainted at the office. He was sick then, but also had a markedly low blood sugar. Wait…

“Oh shit. Did I faint at the office?” Shu asks wearily, only now realizing he’s still in his work clothes. Now it’s coming back to him. The board meeting… Shu groans. “Oh god. Did I faint in front of everybody?” At least last time nobody had been looking at him when it happened. Especially not an entire room full of all of his bosses.

“Afraid so,” Mathias said. “But I just kicked them out and someone’s waiting for the ambulance. They’ll be here soon.”

“Kill me,” Shu said. He’d fainted and then puked in front of the entire board. That was it, his career was over. He had to quit. “I’m serious, shoot me now.”

Mathias shakes his head, shushing him. “Don’t be so dramatic, you’re probably just dehydrated. You feel like you’re a million degrees, you know that? I told you you should’ve gone home.”

“Yeah, you’re always right,” Shu mutters. He rests his head back down in Mathias’ lap where he’d woken up. “Ugh, my ambulance copay is like, three hundred bucks, too.”

Mathias smoothes Shu’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Now’s not the time to worry about that, okay?”

Shu closes his eyes. They feel hot and pulsing inside of his skull. “If I’m not out by three, will you make sure Alex is okay? I don’t wanna worry him while he’s at school.”

“Of course,” Mathias says.

The EMTs arrive a few minutes later, Harrison leading them to Shu’s spot on the floor. He’s shivering by then, Mathias’ suit jacket covering him not sufficient to ward off the chills from the fever he’s sporting. They load Shu onto a stretcher after taking his less than stellar vitals and Shu gazes blearily at the office as they walk through it to the elevators, because he’s sure he can never show his face in here again.

“I could probably just sleep it off at home, I don’t think I really need the hospital,” Shu tries to tell them, but they stick an IV in his hand and bring him anyway. There Shu gets Tylenol, a couple liters of fluids that apparently have some electrolytes and sugar, and a dose of IV solumedrol to work on his awful cough. They say it’s probably a viral infection but they’ll send him home on antibiotics anyways, just in case, plus oral steroids. Shu’s still waiting for discharge paperwork when Mathias calls with an update on Alex. He wants to know if Shu’s staying overnight because Alex keeps saying he’s going to leave to sleep at Ryo’s.

“They’re discharging me now, can you guys come get me?” Shu asks. If Alex wants to sleep at Ryo’s that’s fine - Shu knows it’s where he goes as soon as he feels overwhelmed, and Shu being this sick is sure to stress him out - but he’d like to see his son is okay with his own two eyes before then.

Mathias shows up half an hour later, by which time Shu’s dressed, IV removed and scripts in hand. “Alex is in the car,” he tells Shu. “He wants us to drop him off at Ryo’s on the way back.”

“That’s fine,” Shu says. He walks out of the ER on his own two feet this time, still feverish but feeling far better than he did this morning. Whatever “D5NS with KCL” is, he wishes he could keep some handy for all the times he’s feeling weak because he’s pretty sure that’s what helped the most. As they approach the car, Shu can see Alex in the backseat. He’s listening to music with earbuds in, but he pulls one out when Mathias helps Shu into the passenger seat.

“Hey buddy,” Shu says. His voice is still pretty rough sounding, but not talking for most of the hours in the ER helped. “You okay?”

Alex snorts, shaking his head. “I’m not the one who passed out at work.”

“Touché,” Shu says. He’s not sure that’s how the word is supposed to be used, but he’s too tired to care right now. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Alex says quickly, but Shu knows he’s lying. Not that he plans on pointing that out, but he’s aware that Alex cares about everything far more than he likes to pretend. School, Ryo, the fact that Shu still makes him go to therapy once a month even though he says his parents’ death doesn’t bother him anymore. It’s just another reason why Shu feels so fiercely that he has to protect him now.

Alex clears his throat uncomfortably. “Can I sleep at Ryo’s? His dad said it’s fine.”

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Shu says. He’s not sure he would’ve had the energy to argue if for some reason it hadn’t been fine. Thank god for Ryo’s parents and their constant willingness to have Alex over since the beginning. Thank god for Ryo and his calming presence he always seems to have over Alex, despite being the most hyperactive teenage boy Shu’s ever met.

Alex directs Mathias to Ryo’s house and hops out, his backpack for school tomorrow over his shoulder. Alex doesn't look at him, just mutters an uncomfortable, “Feel better,” before disappearing into Ryo’s house. Shu sighs in relief. As long as he knows Alex is fine, he’d rather the kid not be there stressing about him anyways. Mathias brings him home and takes him inside, setting him up in bed with tea, tissues, meds and anything else he could possibly need within reach.

“Thanks Matty,” Shu says tiredly. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“I don't either,” Mathias says, eyeing Shu worriedly. “You sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’ll make it,” Shu says. “Don't worry. I’ll be back at work soon.”

Mathias rolls his eyes. “Not too soon,” he says strictly. “Get some rest.” Then he leaves Shu to his own devices and Shu relaxes, finally in his own bed - where he should've stayed this morning. Oh well. He can't believe how humiliating he is - to pass out at work twice in the span of a few years - but hey, at least no one's going to accuse him of faking. Harrison will guiltily go easy on him for a week, at least. Thank goodness he made it home.

[captainjonnitkessler]

Way to reblog that shit totally misrepresenting the “man vs bear” argument.

If you think I'm wrong and you want me to reconsider my stance, you need to present some sort of argument instead of being passive aggressive. Explain why you think it was misrepresented and offer an alternative viewpoint.

If you don't care if I change my mind and just want me to feel bad for having an opinion you don't like, that can't be accomplished by internet randos yelling at me. Look at my blog. You think this is the blog of a person who cares if they get yelled at by internet strangers? But you might want to reconsider how you spend your time if you think lashing out at strangers for fairly minor disagreements is a good use of it.

Anyway I do think I could do better at being more nuanced. Women obviously face harassment and assault from men, including in the woods. I meet men in the woods every time I go hiking and I'm not going to pretend I've never had the fleeting thought of what I'd do if one attacked me. But that's the thing - I meet men in the woods every time I go hiking. It's really weird to have it presented as some sort of hypothetical thought experiment instead of the mundane reality of a very popular hobby.

The biggest problem I'm having is the number of people using it as an excuse to play the "I am in perpetual danger from every man I meet and I have to perform a series of performative safety rituals to ward off serial killers and That's What Being A Woman Is About" game. I've had, over the past couple years, a few people tell me that if I'm not perpetually afraid of every man I see then I must not actually be a woman, or I must be lying, or I'm some naive young waif who doesn't understand the Evils Of The World yet. It's really fucking annoying! Womanhood is not defined by fear and paranoia!

The other problem that I can't believe I'm having is the number of people arguing that bears are basically just big cuddly uwu babies who are more scared of you than you are of them!!! and you just have to shoo them off the path like waving a bird away from a berry patch!!!

Bears are dangerous as hell - even black bears - and you should NEVER assume they're safe or friendly. And sure, maybe 99% of black bears are fairly non-confrontational and don't want to fight you - but the same is true of men! But unlike men you can't outrun, outfight, or outclimb a bear. You're pretty much just fucked if one does decide you look tasty. So again - it just feels very performative to me to make a big deal about how dangerous men are while downplaying the danger of a literal apex predator.