#in my own time to help improve my work because im too fucking tired because im too fucking depressed to do anything. im a failure.

[thedevotionaltour]

anyone else ever remember how they are gonna end up in some dead end soul sucking job instead of the actual career they wanna pursue because they are far too unskilled for it. just me. awesome.

[morethanmeetstheass]

alright, let's do the lowdown of "where the fuck has suna been all this time." probably gonna be long so ill put a keep reading, but tldr: life got bad, life got better, im working on existing in fandom space again

SO. i cant remember the last time i posted, so let's start at where shit went bad. 2020 baby, the rona hit, i graduated college virtually, lost my job, and ended up having to move to another state bc new jobs were so hard to come by. started anew down here in maryland, though a little worse for wear bc i went from living with my 4 best friends to having exactly 0 friends. very isolating, no fun. got cats, one of them died, so that didn't help at all.

fandom-wise, iacon online was both a huge benefit in my life and a huge pain. a lot of stress and misery went into that convention, but a whole lot of good came from running it. i ended up getting the chance to do 3 covers for idw, which was a massive blessing. became friends with multiple members of the cybertronic spree, made new friends with other organizers, got to accidentally roast james roberts to his face.

but it was also very stressful, and admittedly, my love for transformers did a huge swell and then took a big hit. i spiraled into a weird pit of having no interest in anything, lost interest in writing my fic, and started exploring other parts of my life. especially when idw lost the license to transformers, because fuck, now if i want to do covers again, i gotta make MORE connections. i was just very tired and burnt out. started hating all my artwork and despising how i was drawing for validation instead of passion.

sort of accidentally became a prominent creator on tik tok, so i got to explore other parts of my life that got lost in the transformers shuffle. got a new job working remotely, adopted another cat, things were looking up. then my apartment had a fire and i spiraled again, even worse. my mental health still hasn't recovered. it is a miracle that my belongings, health, and pets were ok, but i didnt even feel safe in my own home anymore. still struggling with it almost a year later, even in a new apartment. its been hard.

but i was shuffling on spotify today and stumbled onto my blitzbee playlist, and i got a little twinge in my tummy. i miss transformers. i dont miss being completely consumed by it, but i want to reintroduce myself to the fandom, start making mecha art again, as well as other art.

and i swear on my life, i WILL finish my fic. even after all this time, i still read all the comments i get on roe, on aufn, and especially kwz. i see how many of you want me to finish it, and i want to too. and i will. itll just take me some time to reintroduce myself to the fandom, to get comfortable with creating out of a place of love rather than out of a place of need for external validation. roe was a passion project, and its so clear with how much it was loved. it was good bc it was made out of a place of excitement, out of me genuinely wanting to share the story, not just wanting the likes and kudos. and im feeling that passion again. not 100% just yet, but i am.

so yeah, thats the deal. life has settled. still suffering with post traumatic stress from the fire and trying to feel safe in my space again, but im improving. im finding love for transformers again. im finding love for a lot of things again, and i dont want to box myself into one passion or the other. im a lot of things and i want to give myself space to love all of the things that i love. and robots are one of those things, but not the only one.

blitzbee forever. i will die a dirty bee kinnie and a blitzy simp.

[lordmushroomkat]

hi sorry to place a mild rant here i just cant do journaling to myself. So i got diagnosed with pcos and i just got birth control to take. And i dont know how to feel about it. Im genderqueer but not ready to come out and like E was the only option they gave me and since im a teen i didnt know, still dont know, how, if, when i can tell these people that i dont think this is what i want. Im writing this right before im supposed to take my first pill and im scared. Scared i will hate it and will have to live with that because i just cant come out. But im also scared it will make me feel better. Do as my mom says and make me less tired, less cranky. Im scared that when she says that she is doing this because its the best for my health, that she is scientfically right. And my dr even mentioned how i didnt seem to care about anything they were talkin about (pills-side effects, “benefits”) but like after the fact i realized that i could have said that i didnt care because all that she wasnt going to improve my life in any fucking meaningful way. Like body hair? Love it. Or well i would like to remove some not all of it, and not feel like in removing like stomach hair that i was agreeing that i was a women or that hair is disgusting. Because i would remove hair for myself ya know. Not for the preconcieved idea of who i am and how i should look. And acne? If i cared id actually put my acne cream on. Fertility? Dont want children, and they talked about unwanted random fertility but im ace and sex repulsed. Beyond the first visit they didnt even mention cancer. Ive been telling myself im going to take these pills to prevent cancer in uterine lining. And im scared to look up how true thag is. I mean on how e decreases these helath risks. Im scared theyre right. Im scared their wrong. I will fucking riot if they are lying because that means this is for nothing. Im scared it wont give me gender dysphoria, scared i will have dysphoria because it wull peel layers off the dissasosiation i face. and before all this i was planning on making my mom a presentation about intersex people and gender. Because shes supportive just a littl confused and not radical, im radical because grief has made me angry and i want to let her in on it ig. But i dont think i can do that anymore. Because i would have pointed myself out as intersex. Imply she could be too if she liked the label. But im scared that her being cis, and having struggled with weight and eating when she was a teen (and that pcos effects weight) would mean she would hate the idea. Would call me wrong or cite drs. She told me to shave under my arms once, for the convience when traveling light on vacation so that deodorant worked better?? And hours after she said it i realized if i existed for ease i would crase to exist. But im worried whats a good ease for her would be a killer for me. Idk anymore. i guess any advice? But that will probably be to come out and i dont think i can do that. any research or resources that proves im allowed to be angry? I think im just looking for people to tell me im normal for feeling this way. Having a bad day. Thanks for any.. help? Hope this wasnt triggering or anything, i just saw that you were nonbinary with pcos too- and yea. Okay bye

I really don't know if I'm the right person to answer this. I was already out as non-binary for years before I got my PCOS diagnosis. When they said "take these pills" I asked about the other options and they gave me none so I simply refused to take the pills. But I'm like,,, I don't super care about the negative affects of PCOS. I'm casually suicidal all the time and I'll keep living for my family but if something kills me I'm pretty alright with it. I don't really expect to live much longer than like, a handful of decades and like honestly the world is on fire so it'll probably be shorter. So like, my perspective on this is not necessarily a super healthy one? I'm fairly apathetic about my own existence.

But like, I understand your struggle here with wanting to explain the PCOS=intersex connection to your mom but knowing she'll respond poorly because she also has PCOS.

I really don't have any solid advice here. Just... I guess, consider really carefully how you want to feel in your body. If you've been enjoying the superficial changes the PCOS has done to your body with this weird little second puberty, maybe you should consider advocating for yourself a little more firmly about it. Your future health is important but so is your current comfort in your body.

[keefwho]

February 16 - 2023

10:28 PM

I keep getting really horny, struggling to find a way to relieve myself, and when I finally do I feel guilty because of how pent up I’ve kept myself. Because it’s hard to ignore when my loins are on fire and it has a way of working into my social interactions. Its all that will be on my mind and I have to actively suppress it which ends up being stressful. I think the solution to this is to just crank one out more often but I’m always afraid I’ll miss out on something if I keep myself drained. Its stupid this is even a problem. I don’t want to be a perv and I don’t think I am one. My body is having urges that I can’t really control, I just have to deal with them appropriately. It’s very annoying. I do not want any of my relationships to be made weird or oversexualized because of some stupid urges. 

Part of it is because I’m bored and jerking off is an easy way to fix that. Also when I get too stressed out I like to do it as a distraction for a little bit. I like to fuck myself up hard just to get away from it all and usually it has a positive effect on me, like a little mental reset. 

This is so stupid. I’m just gonna will this problem out of existence. This should be something that is stressful. Things like my relationships take priority too. I will not let this impact what is actually important to me. 

12:08 AM

I get in my own head a lot that people don’t actually like me. It doesn’t make any sense because they wouldn’t want to be around me if that was true. I always figure this kind of thinking comes from how I don’t like myself all the time. It always takes a lot of work, but stepping back and getting some perspective on my interactions usually helps a lot. I’m always stuck in my own head with my worries but if I shift my perspective to the other people or completely outside of our interactions, I can learn a lot. Trying to see me interacting with myself through their eyes helps a LOT and can clue me in on how I might be acting. Also replaying their choices like I’m them helps me realize they must actually enjoy my company if they are doing the things they do. Im tired and this might not make much sense. I’m just aware of at least one of the things that inhibits my ability to fully enjoy other people and I have some methods to improve it. 

I just want to be more stable and reliable. I want to stand alone and be strong, and I want to give that strength to others when I can. The standing alone part is the biggest challenge right now. It’s so so hard to put up with myself sometimes. I don’t get it. I’m trying to understand it. 

There’s a lot I want to say to a lot of people but I’m afraid I’ll come off as weird for messaging so much or being too open. But on the other side, I’d love it if I heard what I want to say from other people. My besties cannot spam me, it won’t get annoying. I hope the same goes for them. Im trying to speak up more, especially since there could be so many missed opportunities if I don’t. The rule is if I feel strongly about something, I say it. I don’t like bottling things up because I feel like it might be weird to say when I have no reason to believe that. And I know doing that will eventually lead to me keeping more things inside and that will stop me from being myself. I’ll end up wearing a mask of sorts that has to stay on around certain people. That would prevent real connection. 

[honeymilkk00]

Haikyuu Boys: You Flinch

Pt 2

@silver-argent​ :  Hii! I super looooove the way you wrote Haikyuu Boys: You flinch, perfect amount of angst to fluff! Are you taking requests? If you are, will you please do a Sakusa and Kenma? the you flinch. It's okay if you don't tho! I'll still look forward to your works!❤❤

tysm for the encouraging words!! my requests are open and im more than happy to do Sakusa and Kenma jewbjkew. i hope you enjoy. i'm literally so tired and just wanted to finally get this out <3

characters:

-sakusa

-kenma

___________________________

Sakusa

Dating Sakusa was the last thing you ever thought would happen to you. He filled your days and nights with such love and passion. You had broken through his stoic and cold shell and had seen him for who he truly was deep inside- a loving partner through and through.

Of course, old habits die hard. Since he had spent years of his life being a reserved person, only putting up with his family and teammates, he still was very hesitant when it came to affection. Sometimes all he wanted to do was to be alone with his thoughts and nothing else. It hurt to see him like that, knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t help him, but you understood and gave him the time he needed.

Five months into yours and his relationship had lead to a few disputes, but nothing too serious. He was a prideful, headstrong man which lead to you having to bite your tongue during arguments and keep your snarky words to yourself, refusing to let them slip off the tip of your tongue. If they did, the argument would escalate. 

You loved Sakusa for everything he was, bad parts and good, but sometimes he was too much. 

And, that’s how you were here, biting your lip harshly as you stare at him, refusing to let your anger get the best of you. 

Sakusa had been coming home quite late due to volleyball practise, but it got to the stage where you were scared that he was doing to overwork himself and injure himself. Instead of letting it slide, you confronted him about it and suggested that he should take some time to let his body heal from the strenuous training regimen that he was doing. It seemed that Sakusa wasn’t in the best of moods and had snapped at you, shooting abhorrent words towards you as if you were nothing but a pile of shit, accusing you of restricting him from reaching his full potential and trying to turn him away from volleyball because you were too clingy for his liking. 

“Fucking hell (Y/N), you’re so fucking clingy! Just because you’re an attention whore and want me to worship you doesn’t mean you can try and take me away from what I love doing. You’re so fucking obsessive it’s driving me crazy!” Sakusa bellowed and clenched his hands together, his nails digging into his hands. 

Taking a deep breath to keep yourself as calm as possible, you spoke in a soft tone, “Omi, I’m not trying to keep you from anything. I just think you should rest your body before you overwork yourself and become ill or injure yourself. I know you want to improve but that can happen gradually over time. I doesn’t need to happen all at once.” You murmured and gently placed a hand on his, trying to reassure him.

Letting out a deep, angered growl, Sakusa pulled away from your grip harshly and pushed your hand away, “don’t fucking touch me! You’re fucking disgusting! All you do is hold me down and try and control my life, you obsessive pest!” He hollered out.

His words ripped open your chest and stabbed you in the heart repeatedly. You felt like you were choking on your own heartbeat. It hurt knowing that your lover found you disgusting. A strong feeling of rage surged through your veins. “How fucking dare you, Sakusa! I’ve done nothing but tried to help you and all you do is treat me like shit. Every time we argue I have to bite my tongue because I know that if I retaliate, you’ll just get even more angry. I can’t express how I feel to you anymore and I feel as if I don’t matter in this relationship. If you want to overwork yourself and injure yourself then fine, go ahead, but don’t blame me for saying I told you so after it’s happened!”

His eyes narrowing at your words, Sakusa swiftly turned to glare at you and raised his fist, poking your chest aggressively, “Fine, I will then because I’m not letting you control me anym-” He paused mid sentence, his eyes widening when he noticed you flinching when he raised his hand. Slowly, he lowered his hand and dropped them at his sides. Your shaking figure made his heart clench painfully tight. “(Y/N) I-”

“I can’t do this anymore, Sakusa.” You voice whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled quietly. “I can’t handle this pain anymore. I can’t handle feeling like I’m walking on egg shells with you. I can’t handle being afraid of how you’ll react when I speak about how I feel. I just can’t do this anymore.” You voice got quieter and quieter the more you spoke. Looking up at Sakusa, you swallowed thickly. “I can’t do us anymore.” 

Sakusa was frozen, watching you carefully. It was deathly silent. The only sound he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat beating rapidly. 

“I’ll pick up my things tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Atsumu’s for the night.” You whispered and turned away, heading towards the front door. 

A small, almost whine-like noise left Kiyoomi’s mouth. He reached out and clasped your hand gently, tears forming in the corner’s of his eyes. “Please.” He begged quietly.

Looking back at the man you loved, your heart shattered into small pieces when you noticed his dampened eyes. Never had you seen him cry before. “What is it?” You asked quietly, biting the inside of your cheek.

Sakusa pulled you in tightly for a hug and pressed his lips against your cheek gently. “Please don’t leave. Please please please… I’m so so sorry (Y/N).. I didn’t mean anything I said. I love you and I’m grateful for everything you do for me. I’ve just had a really bad day. Please I love you. Please don’t leave. You’re my baby... “ He pleaded softly and held you tightly, as if afraid that you’d disappear if he let go. 

Letting out a sigh, you caved in. You were still mad at him but at the end of the day, you loved Kiyoomi more than anything else. You would give up everything for his happiness. “Kiyoomi...” You whispered softly and then turned around so you were face to face with him. Gently cupping his cheeks, you sighed, “I love you so so much Kiyoomi... But you can’t say stuff like that to me even if you’ve had a bad day. You really really hurt me even though I was just trying to look out for you.” You explained and frowned softly, kissing his tears that resided in the corner of his eyes. 

Pressing his lips softly against your hands that rested on his face, he let out a shaky breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, “I know... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I promise I’ll do better..” He whispered gently and pressed his nose into your hair lovingly. “I love you so much...”

Leaning in closer to Sakusa, you inhaled his scent, “I love you too, Omi..”

He never wanted to see you flinch like that again.

________________________

Kenma

Kenma was an erudite genius when it came to the art of strategy. His deep understanding of the game and the unspoken pledge to win is what drove him forward and kept him reaching, grasping, clutching for new strategic idea that would leave his opponents breathless.

For days, maybe even weeks, on end, Kenma would be researching, training, and repeating the process until he felt confident in his methodology that would be used in a game. Thus, led to a breakdown. After weeks of undereating, lack of sleep, training beyond his physical capabilities, and his mental strain thinking of ways to defeat the opposing team, Kenma was at his wits’ end. 

As his partner, you immediately noticed the changes in his personality. Of course, concern was your initial reaction and you were somewhat frightened of irritating him more, but you knew you had to confront him about his lack of self care. Seeing him train during lunch and falling asleep in lessons led you to realise how hard he was working himself. 

So, after school you managed to pull him to one side before he proceeded to train at the club. A frown was present on your lips and you took a deep breath. Looking at him now hurt a lot: his eyebags had considerably increased since the last time you saw him; you could now see physically where he had lost weight from undereating for weeks; his eyes seemed a lot duller; his body slouched over slightly, as if it was begging for a break. It was agony to see your partner slowly harm his body and mind like this.

"Kenma, just know I love you so much and I understand that volleyball means a lot to you right now since it's your final year with your team as you know it with Kuroo as captain, but look at yourself. You're not taking care of yourself at all. You aren't helping you or your teammates by undereating and not sleeeping." You murmured gently, taking Kenma's hands in your own. You knew that you had to be careful and not push your boyfriend, but you couldn't let it continue.

Kenma simply frowned at your words and pulled his hand away from yours, "(Y/N), I don't need your lecturing. I'm perfectly fine taking care of myself. I don't need you." He hissed out and turned his back on you, proceeding to head to practise. He had no time to waste on pointless conversations.

(Y/N) grinded their teeth together, their heart aching slightly at the harsh words, "I'm not lecturing you, Kenma! I'm doing what a s/o should do and I'm looking out for you! Please just take a small break before you overdo it!" You hallooed, as if that would make the words sink in.

Vexed, Kenma turned around with a deep scowl on his face, "Why don't you just back off, (Y/N)!? I don't care about you right now, all I care about is me and my teammates winning this game!" He shrieked, which caused you to trip back and swallow thickly.

A small whimper escape your lips and tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you flinched. You were normally fine with Kenma's salty attitude, but he never usually shouted at you. Taking a shaky breath, you looked at your boyfriend dead in the eyes, "fine! Do what you want to do! Since you don't care about me I won't bother anymore! Don't you fucking dare come running to me when you overwork yourself and can't handle it anymore!" You retorted and turned away.

Kenma's eyes widened slightly at your words as he watched you turn away. "Wait...." He whispered out, his hand reaching towards yours. Lightly, he grasped your wrist and sighed, pulling you close and burying his head in your shoulder. "'M sorry... I'm just so stressed..." Tears brimmed his eyes and he sniffled softly. "I didn't mean it..."

Letting out a soft sigh, your shoulders relaxed and you pulled your lover in for a cuddle. "I know you didn't mean it baby... But remember your health comes first, volleyball after." You whispered and gently stroked his hair. He simply nodded in response and hugged you tighter.

Maybe you both could work things out. You just need to learn to communicate more.

[interstellarflowers]

Professor Parker Ch. 1| Professor, Peter Parker x Student, Reader

a/n this fic doesn’t follow the marvel cinematic universe but assume that peter has been what he’s been through with the exception that tony lived, and bruce is still bruce, sorry but i just can't deal with endgame hulk/bruce rn emotionally or mentally. im sorry nat is still dead but dw i'll actually treat it with respect unlike endgame like goddamn where was her funeral, am i right? the stages of grief thing they did was interesting though. im sorry i digress, this is set in nyc (because heyo im a new yorka) and the avengers/stark tower is still a thing, peter is fucking traumatized and has turned kind of cold as a result. this fic may contain a smut chapter in the future? not sure yet, where this fic goes depends on the feedback, thanks for reading also sorry im not the proudest of this first chapter so ill probably edit it but promise itll only improve from here just not in the best mental state rn

University life wasn’t exactly everything that you imagined it to be. There was hardly time to do anything that people claimed was good about coming to university. The parties, the epic heartbreaks, and romances, they were just nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing particularly extravagant about your experience thus far. You went to class, studied, and went to your internship. Your internship was probably the most exciting thing about your life at the moment, you were lucky to be accepted into the Stark Industries student internship, the company paid college tuition and only required around twenty hours of lab work a week, you couldn’t complain. Of course, the exciting part of the whole ordeal was the name attached to it, “Stark,” not that you had ever met him, but it was nice to have a unique feature like that in such an impressive student body.

So here you were on the first day of your third year of university. You lived off-campus, about a five-minute walk from the Stark Tower, but a twenty-minute subway ride to your campus. However, having an 882 square foot space to yourself was really nothing you could truly complain about despite the distance. The studio apartment being yet another benefit reaped from Stark Industries. Thank you Tony Stark, the unseen benevolent God in your life.

Typically you would start your mornings off quietly and in no rush, a shower, a cup of coffee, maybe some studying before heading off to your campus, but your phone had other plans for you today. Instead of your alarm going off like it was supposed to, you were woken up by the sound of a particularly loud car horn, and oh how grateful you were for that. As soon as you were jolted awake you shifted to grab your phone and turned it over to see an alarming 8:40am glaring back at you.

Holy shit. You were late.

You scrambled out of bed nearly face planting several times in your hurry to get dressed and only barely ran out the door with everything you needed at 8:47am.

By the time you managed to get to the subway and clamor onto the right train it was already 8:55am. Out of breath and panicking, you considered your options. You could explain after class, you could shoot an email, there were a plethora of things you could do but none of them seemed to justify being late as a third-year to a level 500 class. You had googled all of your professors while registering for classes as was common practice. You couldn’t find a RateMyProfessor on Professor...Parker? You were pretty sure it was Professor Parker, but you do remember seeing on the STEM department page that he was currently a Ph.D. student, so you could only hope that as a fellow student he would be at least a little understanding towards your lateness.

You stood outside of the lecture hall huffing and trying to catch your breath at 9:32am, psyching yourself up, you pushed open the door to the class and attempted to go unnoticed. The class was in a lecture hall despite being only composed of around thirty students, so if you were lucky maybe nobody would even see-

“Ms.(y/l/n), I presume?.” Shit.

“Professor Parker?” Shit.

“You are aware that class starts at 9am, and not 9:30am, would this be correct Ms.(y/l/n)?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s just that I had an emergency.” The lying route. Not exactly the highlight of your academic career.

“I regret to inform you that I only take valid excuses Ms.(y/l/n), please take a seat, and next time, don’t bother disrupting class halfway through the lesson.” Fuck. You mustered a quiet “ok,” and a small nod before escorting yourself to the back of the room, thirty-something eyes following you until you sat down.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, it was just too embarrassing, time moved forward but you couldn’t help but be stuck on what had just happened. For the first ten minutes after sitting down you felt like dropping out of the whole class out of sheer fucking humiliation. This was of course before you reminded yourself that this class was a requirement to graduate in your field of study. You quietly bargained with yourself before sighing quietly and settling on the conclusion that Professor Parker was just a dick. A dick who certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of you switching out of his class. If he wanted to be like that, you decided, you would simply return the favor.

“I know, Ms.(y/ln), why don’t you tell us DeBroglie’s equation?”

“With pleasure, Professor Parker.” Yeah, you’d return the favor alright.

“Ms.(y/l/n), you stay.” Fuck that. You looked the other way and feigned ignorance as you kept making your way towards the door. About to leave, the door shut on your face.

“What the fuck!” You jumped before turning around and you felt your face heat up.

“Ms.(y/l/n), please refrain from using profanities in my classroom.”

“I’m sorry Professor Parker. I was just startled.”

“Mhm,” he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, “Just don’t do it in the future Ms.(y/l/n).”

“Of course. My name is (y/n), by the way, Professor Parker, you can just call me that, actually, I prefer that people refer to me by (y/n).”

“Rest assured, I’m aware of your name, Ms.(y/l/n). My name is Peter, but you can continue to call me Professor Parker.” You could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew what he was fucking doing, asshole. You held back from rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Of course, Professor Parker.”

“As you know, Ms.(y/l/n), I did request that you stay after class.”

“Oh? I sincerely apologize Professor Parker, I really didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sure, Ms.(y/l/n).” Fucking. Dick.

“Well, what exactly did you want Professor Parker? I do have another class soon.” Professor Parker narrowed his eyes at you in obvious distaste before reaching behind himself into a bin underneath his desk and pulling out a stack of papers,

“These are the handouts you missed from the beginning of the class. Textbook requirements, syllabus...Crucial information to have if you care to succeed in my class Ms.(y/l/n).” So coldly, so maliciously, Professor Parker placed the stack into your arms.

“I take my work very seriously, Ms.(y/l/n), I do my part as your professor so I only have the simple request that my students do the same.” You nodded feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course, Professor Parker, it won’t happen again,” you said with a tightlipped smile.

“Mhm,” Professor Parker turned around and began shuffling around some paper and without giving you a second glance said, “You are dismissed.” You nodded and hurriedly made your way out of his classroom. Of course, you had lied. You didn’t have another class until late in the afternoon. So you called your coworker instead,

“Hey, Harvey.”

“(y/n).”

“Wow, okay, don’t get too excited.”

“Sorry, just woke up.”

“Tsk, the early bird gets the worm, Harvey.”

“I don’t want a worm.”

“Fuck you. I’m headed to the lab, can I expect you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You had been working with Harvey for around four years now, he was quite the impressive specimen, having attended MIT and graduating Summa Cum Laude at age 20 was no easy feat, he was closer to Tony Stark than you would ever get, he was quite personable, and you couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking. You’d never tell him that though, he didn’t need another ego boost. Besides, you had some connections of your own.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Banner!”

“Can we expect Harvey today?”

“Honestly, not sure.” You both knowingly smiled at each other before you made your way over to what he was working on,

“Do you ever get bored here?”

“With you and the other idiot always running around? How could I?” You laughed,

“No, seriously, like wouldn’t you rather be doing nerd shit with Tony or something? Isn’t it a little tiresome babysitting us?”

“Tiring? Maybe sometimes, but not nearly as tiring as doing ‘nerd shit’ with Tony. He’s exhausting,” Bruce smiled at his own joke, “I don’t mind playing babysitter at all kid.” He fiddled with the handle of a mug that read, “Don’t be so Na Cl,” which you had gotten him a year back as a joke, but he still used it.

You really loved Bruce for all he was. Since losing your family back in 2012 during the battle in NYC, you didn’t really have any familial figures. But since landing this internship you found yourself with a parental figure again, and you would never be able to put into words how much it meant to you, so you didn’t. Besides, you didn’t want him to feel pressured about it, especially after everything he had been through himself. Frying half your body and losing the love of your life in such a short span of time was really nothing less than horrifying. Yet, here he was, smiling, laughing...You loved him for it.

“First day of junior year? How was that?”

“Shit.”

“Huh?” Bruce stopped tinkering with the device in his hands and looked over at you, “I’ve never heard of a course being too hard for (y/n) (y/l/n), what is it? Aerospace? Quantum?”

“No, just one giant dick.”

“Pardon-”

“My professor, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ah, I see. If he’s really harassing you (y/n), I don’t mean to overstep, I really think we should alert administration, what’s his name?” Bruce took a sip of his coffee.

“Professor Parker,” Bruce choked on his coffee, “Oh my God, Bruce, are you okay?”

“Yeah-” he said, still coughing, “Just a little too strong.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce caught his breath, “What did he do kid?”

“He’s just a dick that’s all.”

“You sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I don’t know what you could do anyways. Thank you though.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised.”

Sitting at your desk stressing over school work at 3am, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you. Everything appeared ordinary. The ordinary cup of tea, the familiar glow of your computer, and a morning chill creeping through your window. It was all so breathtakingly normal until there was a rap on your window. You took an earbud out of your ear, certain you were just hearing things, you looked to your window. Holy shit.

You opened your window wide so that he could crawl in.

“(y/n)?”

“Mr.Spiderman.” Still too in shock to fully process the situation you started to take in the scene in front of you,

“Please, it’s just Spiderman.”

“Oh-Oh my God, what happened?” Head to toe the suit seemed to have blood seeping through, tears in the body of the suit revealed gashes and a bullet wound.

“Bad guys. I know this guy-said he knew a medical student close by, you are (y/n)? Right?”

“Y-Yeah, but I’m really just a student, I’m not really a prof-”

“This guy, he said you might as well be.”

“I don’t know Mr.Spiderman, really, maybe I could take you to the hospital though.”

“-Spiderman, it’s just Spiderman, listen, (y/n), you know I can’t go to a hospital, it would ruin this whole secret identity thing I got going on here, and this guy, he’s probably the smartest guy I know, so if he says you can handle it, you can.” You swallowed and nodded,

“Yeah-” you wring your hands together, “Yeah-Sorry, let me go get my first aid kit.”

[kjmsupremacist]

guys my age (taeyong/yuta)

Taeyong, fresh off of his first year of college, finds himself in a new city for his summer internship. He keeps running into a beautiful man, and Taeyong can’t help but be attracted to him. The problem? This guy is around 40, and Taeyong only just celebrated his 20th birthday.

Chapter 13 - (the summer’s wild) and i’ve been waiting for you all this time YUTA POV  |   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11   Chapter 12   Masterlist

Characters: Taeyong, Yuta; the rest of nct intermittently

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: AGE GAP (like taeyong is barely legal)*, daddy kink, somnophilia, alcohol mention, vomiting, some alcohol poisoning-related scenes

Rating: Explicit

Length: 5.2k

official playlist here! | if ur able, u can buy me a coffee here!

*please mind the gap! I am in no way condoning or encouraging real life age gap relationships with this fic. I think there is an inherent power imbalance, and that they are rarely healthy. I still like them in fiction though, because im fucked up :) if you think it will upset you, then please don’t read it!

(divider cropped from a photo taken by @/double_cats on twt!)

(A/N): i find it quite hard to believe that we’ve come to the end of this fic--and to such an end! more of my sentimentality at the end, but for now, please enjoy.

 The night following the breakup is a long and empty one for Yuta. He considers following Taeyong after he storms off, but ultimately decides against it, realizing quickly that seeing as he was the one that wanted to break things off, he shouldn’t really be chasing Taeyong down. Besides, Taeyong’s an adult—he won’t let Yuta forget it, either. He should be fine.

 He doesn’t sleep easy that night, and rises early the next morning. The house is so still. It’s not like he’s not used to being alone, it’s just that the world seems wrong. Even the bright sunlight does nothing to improve his mood; he slogs through his work halfheartedly. It does nothing to distract him. He keeps expecting Taeyong to be around every corner.

 You did the right thing, he tells himself firmly as he starts the dishwasher and heads upstairs. Eventually, this hurt will fade, and Taeyong’s will too. He’ll agree, and everything will be fine. You just have to get through the first couple of days, that’s all.

 But if it was the right thing, why does he feel so empty? He curls up in bed that night feeling cold and alone. He knows he should start the process of removing traces of Taeyong from his life—he should delete his number and erase their text threads and call history, he should check around his house for things he may have left behind and box them all up, maybe even throw away some of his clothes that he remembers seeing Taeyong wear. But he can’t. His heart is too heavy, and he’s so tired.

 He actually manages to fall asleep relatively early, and doesn’t wake until his phone rings right next to his ear. He nearly jumps out of his own skin, scrambling to find it in the sheets and turn the ringer off. He’s about to deny the call—it’s three in the morning, for fuck’s sake—but he catches the caller ID and freezes.

 Lee Taeyong.

 Why the fuck is Taeyong calling me at three in the morning? He runs through possibilities in his head. He’s probably drunk, and it’s quite possible he’s in trouble. Yuta sighs. Maybe he should just ignore it. But he knows if he doesn’t pick up, he’ll regret it, and he won’t be able to sleep without knowing if Taeyong’s okay.

 So he picks up the phone, feeling around his room in the dark for clothes as he talks to Taeyong, half running, half falling down the stairs to go pick him up.

 Taeyong is more or less incomprehensible by the time he arrives. Yuta catches him when he falls into his arms, making sure he doesn’t lose his phone, which is dangling precariously in his fingertips. He slings one of Taeyong’s arms over his shoulders and wraps an arm around his waist, and helps him into his car.

 “I’m sorry,” Taeyong slurs out, again and again. “I’m sorry.”

 “It’s alright, honey.” Yuta clicks his seatbelt into place. His hands are shaking. The last time he saw someone this far gone, he was at university and it was a rough night. He tries not to show his fear, handing Taeyong a plastic bag. “I’m glad you called me. I’d rather you call me in the middle of the night than get hurt.” He goes around to the other side of the car quickly, sliding in and starting the engine. Taeyong groans softly. Yuta looks over at him and his heart twists in his chest. Taeyong’s head is lolled forward and his eyes are screwed shut. There are tear-tracks streaking his makeup. I did this, Yuta thinks miserably. Oh god, I did this. It’s all my fault. He reaches over to rest a hand on Taeyong’s knee as they pull out onto the street. “We’ll be home soon,” he says, hoping to soothe him. “You’re gonna be okay.”

 “I know,” Taeyong replies, and it breaks Yuta’s heart. “I’m with you.”

 Taeyong throws up about halfway up the hill, but luckily he’s aware of the plastic bag in his hands, and he doesn’t spill anything. Yuta rolls the windows down a little to help with the smell, apologizing for the sharp twists and turns as they make their way to his neighborhood. At last, they pull into his garage. Yuta swears he’s never moved faster in his life, parking the car and basically jogging around the hood to go help Taeyong.

 “Think you can make it upstairs, honey?” Yuta asks, gingerly taking the plastic bag from Taeyong as he guides him into the house.

 “Mm-hm,” Taeyong says, and he does, vomiting again as soon as he’s safely in front of the toilet. Yuta presses his lips together and rubs his back. He wants to hold him, but he thinks it might be a bit inappropriate now—especially with Taeyong blackout drunk. But god, his hands itch to take Taeyong into his lap and promise him everything will be alright.

 Taeyong quiets after a bit, resting his cheek on the seat of the toilet. Yuta coaxes him backwards so he can flush it, murmuring apologies when Taeyong startles at the sudden loud noise. He lets him lean against the toilet again once the bowl has finished filling, and crouches beside him, brushing his damp hair off of his sweaty forehead.

 “If I run downstairs to get some snacks and some water, will you be okay on your own for a couple of minutes?” he asks. Taeyong nods mutely. “Okay, I’ll be back in a second.” He curbs the urge to kiss the top of his head, and hurries down to the kitchen. He fills a large bottle with cool water, and grabs a small cup, a box of plain crackers, along with a couple of slices of white bread. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do.

 Taeyong’s exactly where Yuta left him when he returns, and he barely reacts when Yuta enters the room. Yuta sets the items down on the floor and pours some water into the cup.

 “Hey,” he says softly. “Drink this for me, please.”

 Taeyong is compliant, Yuta has to give him that. He’s met (and babysat) so many people in his life who refuse to cling to an ounce of sense the instant the alcohol hits them, and he’s grateful Taeyong isn’t one of them.

 They sit together for about an hour. Taeyong throws up a couple more times, and Yuta forces him to rehydrate after each round, even though he knows it’ll just give him more to throw up later. And then, Taeyong stops responding to him. Yuta keeps him on his side on the floor, using a damp paper towel to clean off his face, and tries not to catastrophize.

 “Baby,” he whispers, fear making his throat hoarse. “Can you answer me?” He brushes Taeyong’s hair back and watches the shallow rise and fall of his chest. “You’re breathing, so I know you’re okay. It’s okay if you’re too tired. I’m just worried.”

 Eventually, he pulls Taeyong’s head into his lap, ready to sit him up real quick if he starts vomiting again. But he doesn’t, he just lies there, not asleep but still not lucid. Yuta doesn’t know how long this goes on; though he’s tired, he forces himself to listen for Taeyong’s breathing. But after a while, it starts to blend into the background, and he can’t tell anymore.

 “Taeyong?” Yuta brings a hand up to his cheek. “Taeyong, honey, please say something.”

 And Taeyong, to Yuta’s great relief, turns his head and presses his lips weakly to Yuta’s palm. “Thank you,” Taeyong mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t be sorry,” Yuta whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

 “I’m sorry,” Taeyong repeats. “I’m sorry.”

 “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Yuta pulls them both to their feet, propping Taeyong up against his shoulder as he turns on the shower. He makes Taeyong swish out his mouth, and then gets him to drink a little more water before he undresses him. It feels improper, but Taeyong’s clothes are covered in vomit and alcohol, and he can’t do it himself.

 Yuta rinses him off while still fully clothed himself in an effort to maintain some distance (though he’s kind of aware it’s not helpful, and also very stupid). He dries Taeyong off, putting him in one of his old t-shirts, and lies him on his side on his bed. He takes the fastest shower known to man, just so he can get the layer of nervous sweat off, and then joins Taeyong in his bed.

 Taeyong curls into his side instinctively, and Yuta can’t help but let him. What am I gonna do with you? he thinks. Why won’t you let me let you go? The same guilt surfaces again, and he feels it everywhere—pounding in his head, sitting on his chest, crawling across his skin. I like you a little too much. And that’s scary to him—the care he has is overwhelming, even now as he watches Taeyong sleep. And it’s not fair of him—it’s selfish, to want to keep him when Taeyong has his whole life ahead of him, and Yuta’s on the other side of it—he should be settling down now, just like his mother always asks. But here he is, in a summer fling turned whirlwind—well. To say romance feels wrong somehow. Because how can there be romance here? Here, where Taeyong is being taken advantage of by the very person who’s supposed to be looking out for him instead. He’s tricked Taeyong into thinking that this is what he wants; that this is good, that this is right.

 But what’s scarier than his care for Taeyong is the possibility of losing him, somehow. Yuta knows it, and hates to know it. Even with all the insanity of tonight, it still felt better than the day that they spent apart. Maybe Yuta’s just weak—maybe he isn’t used to people liking him openly, so the instant somebody did, he latched on and didn’t know how to let go.

 Or maybe… He traces over Taeyong’s face with his eyes, the sweet pout of his lips, the faded blue hair that brushes across his eyebrows. Or maybe it’s okay, he thinks carefully. It doesn’t mean that we have to promise ourselves to each other for the rest of our lives. But—maybe, as long as we’re responsible, maybe it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be.

 He resolves to talk to Taeyong about it in the morning. But right now, sleep calls, pulling his eyelids shut and sending him swirling into dreams. As expected, he dreams of Taeyong.

 ~ * ~

 And so after not-so-careful deliberation, Yuta decides to keep Taeyong in his life. It worries him, faintly, but Taeyong seems to have a good grasp of their boundaries, and doesn’t push Yuta to do or say more than he wants to. If anything, Yuta’s the one pushing it—buying him flowers, offering to come help him pack, offering to see him off at the station. But he can’t stop himself from offering. And, like always, when he asks, Taeyong says yes.

 The Monday of their final few days together, they agree Yuta can try to see how many times he can make Taeyong come. The night before, Taeyong looked at him with shining eyes, and said, “If you don’t make me pass out, you didn’t do it right, okay?” He was being entirely earnest, but it made Yuta laugh.

 So Monday morning, Yuta wakes up next to a still-sleeping Taeyong, and only looks at him for a second before getting to work. He rolls over as gently as he can, trying to push away from Taeyong without disturbing him, and grabs the lube from his bedside table.

 “You’re lucky you’re a heavy sleeper,” he murmurs to Taeyong, smiling to himself when Taeyong doesn’t move a muscle. He scoots back down behind Taeyong under the covers—heavy sleeper or not, the cold will wake him—and carefully hooks his arm under Taeyong’s right thigh. He opens the lube with his other hand, squeezing out a small drop, and pressing it between his fingers to warm it up. Slowly, he presses his index finger against Taeyong’s entrance. He’s still a little loose from the night before, so it’s not a bad stretch. Still, Yuta takes his time. Taeyong’s body has a long day ahead of it, and he also doesn’t want to do anything too suddenly and wake him up.

 Taeyong barely reacts, even when Yuta has his finger completely inside him, and even when he starts drawing it in and out—measured and relaxed at first, and then faster as Taeyong opens up around him. The second finger goes mostly the same way, though when Yuta brushes his prostate, Taeyong lets out a soft huff.

 The way Taeyong manages to be so cute but so hot at the same time honest-to-god fries Yuta’s brain. It’s probably a little perverse of him, but—well. Yuta supposes he’s always considered himself a pervert. But god, it’s like Taeyong was made perfectly for him; he just checks all of Yuta’s boxes—except for his age, but right now that’s neither here nor there. Right now, Yuta pulls his fingers out and Taeyong whines softly in his sleep, fidgeting.

 “So needy,” Yuta whispers, reaching up a little to wrap his hand around Taeyong’s cock, which is just starting to harden. Taeyong gives a soft sigh of satisfaction, but he still doesn’t wake up. Yuta ducks his head to press a kiss to the nape of his neck. He stays there, lips to his skin, breathing in the scent of Taeyong’s shampoo as he pumps Taeyong’s cock. The sunlight is getting stronger; soon it’ll spill through the cracks in his blinds, illuminating spots of gold on the bed and on their bodies. The day will be spent in that same sort of gleaming warmth.

 Yuta goes back to opening Taeyong up, adding a third finger. It’s a bit tight, but they have time, so he just goes slow. And because Taeyong’s asleep, his body gives way to Yuta quickly, and soon he’s moving his fingers with ease. Yuta keeps going until Taeyong is loose around him, and then squeezes his pinky finger in beside the other three.

 Taeyong inhales sharply, but still he doesn’t stir, relaxing back down into the pillows as his body gets used to the intrusion. Taeyong’s cock is drooling precome onto his inner thigh by the time Yuta’s content with his prep.

 He puts Taeyong’s leg back down and rolls onto his back so he can slick up his cock, then slots his right leg between Taeyong’s and lines himself up with his hole. He spreads Taeyong’s ass with one hand, the other holding onto his waist to keep him close, and pushes in. It’s hot and wet and tight, and Yuta has to hold his breath to stop from moaning.

 Taeyong makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat and Yuta freezes, but he doesn’t speak, and his breathing is still deep and heavy, so Yuta keeps going until he bottoms out.

 It’s nice to just be inside him, but Yuta knows they have an agenda today, so he only sits and waits for a couple of minutes before beginning to move, rolling his hips up into Taeyong while he presses light kisses to his shoulder. Taeyong hiccups out a moan, finally blinking his eyes open, one hand flying to the hand Yuta still has on his waist.

 “Hi, honey,” Yuta says, and his voice comes out rough and deep.

 “H-hi, daddy,” Taeyong stutters back breathily. “Oh,” he whispers when Yuta thrusts up into him again. “H-how long?”

 “Mm, only about twenty minutes or so,” Yuta admits. “I know you like it, but I wanted to speed things up a little, you know? We have all kinds of plans today.”

 “Y-you have all kinds of plans,” Taeyong corrects, as adamant as he can be when he’s biting back moans. “I’m just a willing but ignorant participant.”

 “My point still stands,” Yuta replies, half amused and half amazed by Taeyong’s sharp clarity and wit given his current state of being. “Here.” He pulls out and taps Taeyong’s hip. “Roll over so I can see you.”

 Taeyong obeys, blinking up at him with a sweet sincerity. He links his hands behind Yuta’s neck and sighs happily when Yuta pushes back in. “Thank you, daddy,” he says after a moment. “You always know what I like best.”

 Yuta gives him a charming smile, sort of at a loss for words. “Don’t think I’d be doing my job right if I didn’t,” he points out, and Taeyong just hums, tugging him closer so he can kiss him.

 Yuta kisses him deep and rough, letting himself get lost in the feeling of Taeyong’s body. Taeyong’s breath is soft but hot against his lips, and it’s kind of ridiculous, but Yuta doesn’t even mind the taste of Taeyong’s morning breath. How can he, you know?

 Taeyong has a hand between their bodies now, stroking himself slowly, moaning low and sweet into the quiet morning. Yuta stops kissing him in favor of knocking his forehead against the sharp line of Taeyong’s shoulder. Taeyong giggles through his moans.

 “Yuta,” he giggles, for no reason at all. Just to say his name, Yuta thinks. He doesn’t mind. His brows pinch, a funny feeling when the skin is pressed up against something else. “Daddy,” Taeyong adds. Yuta reaches up blindly to cup his cheek, groaning softly into the shadowy dip of Taeyong’s collarbone. He tightens his hold on Taeyong’s jaw once his palm shifts into place. Not to hurt him. Just to hold.

 He ends up hooking his thumb into Taeyong’s mouth. It’s probably a little uncomfortable for him, but Taeyong just gives a sweet little whine of appreciation, so Yuta doesn’t worry about it, focusing instead on chasing his own release. Taeyong lets out soft cries, drooling around Yuta’s finger, and then Yuta feels Taeyong’s come hit his stomach as Taeyong trembles beneath him.

 Taeyong clenches around him even as he disintegrates into the mattress, swimming in a post-orgasm haze, as if to say now you, daddy. Now you. And Yuta doesn’t need much longer before he’s spilling into Taeyong with a choked out moan while Taeyong makes happy noises around the thumb that’s still in his mouth.

 “Was this a satisfactory start to your day?” Yuta asks, only half-joking, when he has his breath back.

 Taeyong laughs, pressing a loud kiss to Yuta’s temple. “Yes,” he says. “You’ve set a high bar for yourself, though, I have to warn you.”

 Yuta grins. “I’m not too worried about it,” he says, half a promise, half a threat. Taeyong shoots him a delighted look as he pushes him away so he can slither off the bed. Yuta follows, watching in amusement as Taeyong steps carefully across the floor and goes digging around in one of Yuta’s drawers for a butt plug.

 “It’ll be easier later,” he says, shrugging, when he notices Yuta’s silent observation.

 Yuta follows him into the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wipe down with—nothing thorough, since it won’t be long before they’re dirty again—and then they find something to wear.

 “Do you have a goal in mind?” Yuta asks. “For the number of times you wanna come?”

  “Mm, maybe like ten?” Taeyong shrugs. “I don’t really know. I mean, we’ll see how long it takes before my body gives out on me, right?” He giggles as he pulls on a pair of Yuta’s sweats. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

         Yuta watches him totter down the hall on shaky legs, grinning as he fastens the ties to his shorts, hurrying to catch up with him so he can kiss his hair.

 The rest of the day passes this way—warm and slow and pleasant. Yuta makes Taeyong come again after breakfast with his mouth, and again by twisting the plug against his prostate, cruelly, until Taeyong is crying through a mouthful of t-shirt.

 They take a break after that. Taeyong offers to help him sort the the pile of god-knows-what Yuta’s been storing in his bonus room, and they do that for a little before they both get tired. It’s kind of like they’re just waiting for the day to happen to them, but Yuta doesn’t really mind. They end up back in Yuta’s bedroom, and Taeyong crawls into Yuta’s lap where he’s sitting on the bed. Yuta fits his hands around Taeyong’s tiny waist, helping him settle, and then wraps an arm around him and trails his fingers up and down Taeyong’s spine.

 Yuta’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, a big dude. He’s medium on a good day, with strong limbs but still a more slender and lithe figure. And yet around Taeyong he feels like fuckin’ Superman, even though they’re the same height. Taeyong is just so fucking little—an impossibly small waist, narrow hips, bony fingers. All sharp edges, except for the gentle plushness of his lips. And god, it drives Yuta insane.

 Taeyong starts squirming in his lap, and Yuta just rolls his eyes. “Up,” he says softly. “Pants off. We’ve let ourselves get distracted for far too long.”

 Taeyong just laughs, though he does as he’s told, stepping out of the sweats and folding them neatly on the mattress next to Yuta. “How do you want me?” he asks, his tone playful and light.

 “Back in my lap, come here,” Yuta says, gesturing him closer. He pulls him close, pressing kisses to his shoulder, and reaches around him to grab the base of the plug. He works it out slowly, nudging Taeyong’s head with his own—”Relax, baby.”

 Taeyong trembles in his arms as Yuta sets the plug aside. He offers his fingers to Taeyong to suck, letting him get them sufficiently slick before coaxing them back out of his mouth. He reaches back around again, and pushes his fingers into Taeyong’s hole. As expected he’s still loose, and it’s not long before Yuta is pumping his fingers in and out, grinning as Taeyong whines.

 He adds a third finger and then sets a relentless pace, ignoring the way Taeyong is pressed to his chest in a failed attempt to escape. He doesn’t ever actually tell him to stop, just babbles out moans and lets Yuta milk his prostate until he’s coming between their bodies, his cock completely untouched.

 Yuta doesn’t stop, though. They’re only on four now, and he knows they both want more. So though he slows for a few minutes to give Taeyong a chance to catch his breath, he never pulls away completely, and Taeyong’s cock doesn’t even have much of a chance to go soft before it’s hardening again, an angry sort of red now.

 Taeyong slumps against Yuta’s chest, only managing an exhausted whimper when Yuta speeds up again. “Daddy,” he slurs. “’S’good, but i’ hurts.”

 “Too much?” Yuta asks, just to check.

 “Mm-mm,” Taeyong insists with a tiny shake of his head.

 This time when he comes, it’s only a small amount of clear slick. Taeyong moans, looking faintly embarrassed but mostly pleased, his head tilted back while Yuta stops him from falling with the hand that isn’t knuckle-deep in his ass.

 “Okay, you deserve a nap,” Yuta says, chuckling when Taeyong makes the quietest of noises in response. “But we gotta clean you up first, okay?”

 It takes a little maneuvering, but soon Taeyong is dozing in his bed and Yuta is down in the kitchen scrounging up some lunch. He lets Taeyong sleep for about an hour before luring him downstairs with the promise of noodles.

 They’re up to seven by dinner (one from Yuta’s hand and another from Yuta fucking him on one of the stools that go with his kitchen island) and after dinner they curl up on the couch to watch an episode of a drama that Yuta pretends to pay attention to for Taeyong’s benefit. After the episode, Taeyong demands Yuta choke him on his fingers while he jacks himself off, and Yuta is in no position to say no.

 “So?” Yuta says when Taeyong sleepily licks his own fingers clean. “Are we going to call this experiment successful?”

 Taeyong thinks about it for a moment. “Well, I haven’t passed out yet,” he says slowly.

 “What do you suggest?” Yuta asks, already resigned to fulfilling Taeyong’s wishes, whatever they may be. Like always.

 Taeyong wishes end up being Yuta fucking him there and then. “I think it would be fun if I could get to ten,” he says rather matter-of-factly, “but we’ll see what happens.” He gives Yuta a tired grin. “As always, if I fall asleep, I want you to keep going.”

 “Okay,” Yuta agrees, bending down and kissing his forehead.

 It’s a precarious process, really, because as much as Yuta tried to spare Taeyong’s ass today, he knows he’s going to be sore as hell tomorrow. And though Taeyong has an unusually resilient body, Yuta knows he, too, has his limits. So he tries his best to be gentle with his prep, adding more lube than is probably necessary, just to play it safe. He knows it’s okay; Taeyong likes to feel messy anyway.

 He fucks him slow, too, even when Taeyong begs him to speed up. “I’m hurting you as it is, honey,” Yuta chastises. “Don’t think I can’t tell.”

 Taeyong pouts, but he stops asking. He lets his head loll to the side, only stiffening slightly when Yuta wraps his hand around his cock.

 The other reason Yuta’s going slow is because he knows it’s gonna take a while to get Taeyong there after all his body has been through today. He knows he won’t be able to last if he does, so he focuses more on getting Taeyong to come, his own pleasure entirely secondary.

 “You look so tired, baby,” Yuta teases.

 “Yeah,” Taeyong admits. “But not too tired for this.”

 “Of course not,” Yuta agrees. “My little boy likes getting fucked more than anything else in the world, isn’t that right?” Taeyong looks like he’s about to argue—an unnamable emotion flickers across his face—but then he just nods meekly. “Even when your body gives up on you, huh?” Yuta continues.

 “Especially then, I think,” Taeyong agrees. “Especially now.” Yuta meets his starry gaze, and he can’t look away.

 And it does take a while; it’s long minutes of Yuta forcing himself to keep the same even, gentle pace, soothed by Taeyong’s dark noises of desire. But even with the time that has passed, it happens somewhat suddenly—Taeyong is twisting and writhing against the cushions, and then he’s coming with a silent scream in Yuta’s hand.

 “So beautiful, honey,” Yuta tells him. Taeyong doesn’t reply. “Baby?” Still nothing. Yuta considers stopping, but he knows how indignant Taeyong will be if he does. Taeyong told him to keep going, and he also told him he wanted to hit ten orgasms by the end of the night. And besides, Yuta still hasn’t come.

 Still, he doesn’t go fast, doesn’t treat him rough. He rolls his hips slow and distracts himself by looking over Taeyong’s body. He bends over him and flicks his tongue across his nipples. Even unconscious, Taeyong’s whole body twitches in response, so Yuta keeps going.

 Truth be told, though his body hasn’t been through the wringer like Taeyong’s has, Yuta’s tired, too. So even though he tries, his thrusts get uneven and hard as he loses focus. Taeyong still doesn’t wake, though, and Yuta hopes he stays asleep until he’s gotten him upstairs and in the bath. He doesn’t need him asking for more, because Yuta’s quite certain he won’t be able to give it.

 The pressure is building in Yuta’s stomach whether he likes it or not, and it might be awful of him, but he loves the idea of coming in Taeyong when he’s unconscious. Part of it is that he knows Taeyong wants him to, but part of it is because it makes him feel like he’s staking some kind of claim over Taeyong’s body.

 And when he comes, Taeyong doesn’t move at all. Yuta gasps quietly, then grits his teeth so he doesn’t make any more noise. He still owes Taeyong a tenth orgasm, and he’d like to try to make it happen while he’s sleeping.

 As soon as he’s spent, he pulls out and drops to his knees, taking Taeyong’s cock in his mouth. He holds Taeyong’s hips in place and lowers himself down, closing his eyes and willing his gag reflex away. Yuta knows he’s good at sucking cock, even though he doesn’t do it that often anymore. So he’s not surprised when Taeyong’s cock hardens further under his tongue—isn’t surprised when Taeyong’s coming more of that clear slick down his throat a few minutes later. Taeyong sleeps through it all.

 Taeyong sleeps until Yuta’s lowering him into a hot bath, when he stirs as his feet touch the water. “Yuta?” he murmurs.

 “Hi, honey,” Yuta says, unable to suppress a small smile.

 “Did we hit ten?” Taeyong asks hopefully.

 “Yes,” Yuta says, rolling his eyes. “Are you happy now?”

 “Are you lying to me?” Taeyong asks, a hint of accusation in his tone.

 “No, when have I ever lied to you?” Yuta defends.

 “I suppose,” Taeyong acquiesces, adding, “I missed it, then.” Yuta can’t decide if he sounds excited or disappointed.

 “Well, that’s what you get for asking for ten.” He steps into the tub beside him and hands him a washcloth. “Now get clean so we can go to bed, yeah?”

 Once they’re clean and Taeyong is happily tucked into bed, out like a light, Yuta props himself up on one elbow and watches him sleep. They’re both sated and happy, and though Yuta’s body is screaming with exhaustion, he can only feel satisfied. He knows in a couple of short days, this will all be over, and he’ll see Taeyong very, very rarely. But for now, this is good.

 As he drifts off to sleep, he recalls that this whole day was supposed to be about figuring out the limits to Taeyong’s libido—that maybe this would stop him from being such an incurable little slut. I wonder if it worked? Yuta muses to himself.

 Taeyong wakes him up the next morning with a blowjob. So, in short, the answer is no. Yuta’s pretty sure nothing could curb Taeyong’s sex drive. Not that he’s complaining. And it’s like they said. They like each other the way they are.

 ~ * ~

 Yuta sighs, dropping his overnight bag on the floor where it lands with a soft whump. He nudges it inside the door of his laundry room. He’ll deal with it later, but right now he just needs to disappear into his couch with a drink in hand.

 The weekend with Taeyong was wonderful. It was so good to see him again, even though they’d only been apart for a couple of weeks. It’s not that Yuta doesn’t know what to do with himself without him, it’s just that he’s better when he is with him. And besides, it had been nice to get a look at Taeyong’s university.

 He pulls a beer out of his fridge and wanders into his living room, turning the TV on just for some background noise. He peers out his windows into the inky darkness. The nights are getting colder, even if the days remain warm. There’s no longer a palpable buzz of life outside to keep him company. Yuta settles back against the cushions of his couch, drawing his legs up to sit criss-cross-applesauce. It’s a little tight, but it’s still comfortable. He takes a swig of his beer, and closes his eyes.

 And thinks of Taeyong. And thinks of him and Taeyong. It’s all he thinks about, really. It’s all he dreams about. In a dream, Taeyong moves back to this city after he graduates so they only live a short drive away again. He starts his musical career, and their professional paths end up crossing. In a dream, they begin to date in earnest. They go out to dinner, take walks on the beach and hold hands. All the cheesy shit Yuta has always liked to pretend he didn’t like because he thought he could never have it.

 In a dream, Taeyong and Yuta get married. Yuta’s parents probably won’t come to the ceremony, but Taeyong’s will. And hopefully some of their friends; not too many. Just enough that there are witnesses, even for just one night, to their love. Because that’s what it is, in a dream—they’re in love.

 In a dream, Taeyong and Yuta are in love, and Taeyong moves into Yuta’s house and finally helps him clear out the bonus room so they can turn it into a game room. Taeyong insists they repaint it while they’re at it, and they work side by side in ratty old t-shirts and too-small shorts, windows open to help with the fumes, and the sweet summer breeze drifts in. Taeyong laughs and tells Yuta the smell of it reminds him of the summer they met, even though he can’t possibly smell anything over the heavy stench of wet paint. Yuta will nod anyway. Covered in paint and sweat and with a stray piece of masking tape stuck in his hair, Taeyong will have never looked more beautiful.

 In a dream, Taeyong and Yuta are in love, and they adopt a dog and two cats. And a bunch of fish, and probably some snails, and shrimp too—whatever little aquatic pets strike Taeyong’s fancy. Taeyong will stay up late one night to remove one of his fish’s parasites, calmly and gently, while Yuta watches him and panics. Taeyong will finish the little operation and laugh at Yuta as he wipes his hands and puts his tools away. He’ll tell him to stop looking so worried. He’ll tell him their kid is just fine.

 In a dream, Taeyong and Yuta are in love, and they work together and travel together and live together. In a dream, they’re never more than a few meters apart for more than a day. In a dream, Yuta finishes an album while Taeyong cooks lunch. Or Taeyong comes home from recording to find Yuta setting the table. Or they both get home late and order takeout, and sit on the couch that is no longer just Yuta’s and pet their cats and play with their dog and talk about their work, and everything is good.

 In a dream, Taeyong and Yuta are in love, and they are happy. In a dream, nothing matters except for that. In a dream, Yuta isn’t running, except towards Taeyong. Always towards Taeyong.

 But, at least for now, it’s just a dream.

~ * ~

(A/N): I hardly know what to say here except that I have to say something. Thank you to each of you who encouraged me as I wrote and developed this story. I expected it to do well, but never this well. I adore the little community we’ve created and I hope you’ll all continue to stick with me. Lots of writing (and specifically yutae!) to come from me in the future! But regardless, thank you all for your patience, your kindness, and your love. 

[ramuoto]

TOP 10 MANHWAs

if anything good came out of 2020, it’s my discovery of manhwas. 

well, it’s not like i’ve never read a single manhwa in the past 15+ years but tbh, the ratio of manhwa:manga i consume on a weekly basis has jumped exponentially this year. previously it was like 1:99 and now it’s like 90:10 LMAO. 

so, just to remind myself that the world is still full of good things, i had to make this list. which i will probably edit in the future, if i can be bothered to. :) 

anyhow, this list was not made in any particular order, just whichever came into mind. it’s loooong so be prepared! (I’ve read way more titles than mentioned but just included the ones worth checking out)

for whoever stumbles across this list, i hope some of these resonate with you and i hope they make you as happy as they made me. 

pic credits: https://geekculture.co/geeks-guide-to-transmigration-novels-avoid-death-at-all-costs/

1. Ebony

https://mangadex.org/title/41838/ebony

Bahahah omg he looks evil there! But our dearest archduke is hardly that aww. Soz, I just ripped off the covers of the manhwa cos I can’t find a panel I liked more than another. I mean, this manhwa is a GEM. I can’t even begin to describe this because everything about it blew me away. This is not something you read when you are craving for fluff, or just wanna have something brainless after a hard day at work or if you just wanna have some eye candy lol. This is something you pick up on a weekend, when you have time, because you need those hours to digest, appreciate, clutch your chest, tear a little because you find yourself falling in love with these characters. It doesn’t have any of that cliche isekai, romance, revenge themes going on. It has a solid plot, backed by incredible characters, beautifully woven by the authors and artist with incredible pacing that keeps you on your toes and keeps you looking forward to the next chapter. Maybe I would have been happier if I found it after it was completed lol. HAVE I CONVINCED YOU ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU WANNA READ IT?! like, idk, just go. JUST GO READ IT GDI. 

p.s. it says there romance but naaaaaaah, dont go in with that expectation. :) this story is so much more than that. 

2. Bring the love

https://mangadex.org/title/44472/bring-the-love

This...this!!! THIS MANHWA NEEDS MORE LOVE. If you need a lot of fluff, a little, ok maybe quite a bit of sadness and tragedy, sweet sweet romance, cutie pies, please, look no further!!! Again, pacing, character development are so important to me and this manhwa aces it. I love the 2 MCs very much. And the side characters too. :)

3.  A Stepmother's Märchen

https://mangadex.org/title/39474/a-stepmother-s-m-rchen

When I first read this, i fucking cried. like please don’t ask me why. it’s not like its an absolute tragedy but I was just rooting for the MC so much and I really want for everything to go her way. That’s how much I adore this MC!!! I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER MORE THAN YOU DO NORA! HAHAHHA. okay soz. I need to keep this spoiler-free.

Anyhoo, there is nothing typical about this time travel plot. Sure, she goes back to try to undo the stuff that went wrong but phew, she certainly changed things so much everything that comes her way have made it so her previous experiences can hardly help aaaaaaand that’s what makes it fun! I sometimes wish the pacing could be a little more consistent, and there could be more characters I could love a little more wholeheartedly (so i wont have to be in so much despair when i read this sometimes lol) but omg the art, isn’t it pretty?! I’ve re-read this soooooo many times but the art blows me away all the time. And have I already mentioned how much I love her?! I LOVE YOU SHULI! AND I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY!

4.  Lady Baby

https://mangadex.org/title/34691/lady-baby

I literally LOL-ed when I saw this cover. WHO THE HELL ARE THEY. WHAT LADY BABY?! ehehehe. okay anyway, uhm, this is already incredibly popular. im not sure if i need to elaborate but yes, it’s adorbs!!! i dont think i like the MC as much as i love her family lol. and everyone else who adores her. im looking forward to when they get older. :) actually not really. please stay cute for as long as yall can! but yeah, i do wish the plot can move a lil faster. i want to see more character development in the other kids too COME ON! 

5.  Death Is the Only Ending for the Villainess

https://mangadex.org/title/47754/death-is-the-only-ending-for-the-villainess

am i allowed to reveal how shallow i am rn? like the previous choices were all like ‘wow-deep-plot’, ‘wow-character-development’ and this one i just included cos of AESTHETICS ALONE?! the novel covers are breathtaking!!! the manhwa art is amazing as well. and the harem is great! LOL. as for plot... uhm... it’s alright. it’s pretty engaging and i quite like the MC, she’s smart and independent and i love how she views them all antagonistically at all times HAHAHHA. her past is kinda... weird though and i do wish they’d stop referencing it. cos... girl why do you wanna go back to reality!!! stay here! it’s way more exciting! 

i love the whole isekai/reincarnate/transmigration theme and this is honestly one of the better, not-so-cliche or cheesy ones HA.

6.  Beware of the Villainess!

https://mangadex.org/title/47286/beware-of-the-villainess

do you already see the whole villainess theme?! am i suppose to start feeling embarrassed about my choices?! NO! cos this one is AWESOME!

again, another wildly popular title. for good reasons. it’s hilarious, our MC is as real and candid as it gets and LOOK AT THAT BLUE HAIRED BEAUTY. DO YOU SEE HIM?! IMPLANT HIM INTO YOUR MEMORY NOW!

it’s highly entertaining and breaks all isekai-reincarnation-villainess plot stereotypes. definitely one of the titles i look forward to every week.

7.  Who Made Me a Princess

https://mangadex.org/title/32506/who-made-me-a-princess

what? why did i choose this?

BECAUSE OF CLAUDE OF COURSE. ahahaha. okay aside from the amaaaaaaazing art and the beautiful people, the plot is not too bad. a little extreme at times but it’s interesting enough to keep me going. it’s currently on hiatus though and i was highly annoyed by how the first season ended. (YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED? NOTHING.)

i hope the plot can move faster in the next season! and that our dearest MC athanasia can you know, finally be a little more useful... like omg just tell lucas already!!! and tbh girl, no matter which guy you choose, i approve. :D 

8.  The Flower That Was Bloomed by a Cloud

https://mangadex.org/title/37648/the-flower-that-was-bloomed-by-a-cloud

i featured this before, mostly out of frustration HAHAHA. do you see why i chose this cover?! yeah, i support this (unpopular) pairing okay! the other one is doomed!!! no matter what the author is trying to do now!! I DONT SUPPORT IT!!! lol.

anyway, i had to feature this cos the art is unique! and the story is great. :) and i looooooove listening to the ost while i read it. it starts out kinda slow but as the pace picks up, you won’t be able to stop. and you find yourself conflicted at various points. it did win an award for a reason. 

no matter what, i still think dowun is best for her okay. it’s dowun or nothing. he’s devoted to her, we all know that! he just needs to ditch that annoying female guard!!! ok yknw what, maybe nothing is better. :/ *cries*

9.  Solo Leveling

https://mangadex.org/title/31477/solo-leveling

why do i even bother? this manhwa is popular enough. 

the art is great. the MC is great. i use him and his gang as my wallpaper. 

im just not sure i like how this season’s plot is progressing. :/ but i guess it brings us nearer to solving the mystery in the first leg of the manhwa. i just enjoyed the whole part of him leveling up and now that he isn’t really leveling up anymore... idk. am i hoping for more plot shit like bleach (oh wow now u quincy?)... idk man. anywho, no regrets starting on this series and marathon-ing it to death. 

cross fingers the plot picks up and doesnt get too complicated for its own good.

10.  The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

https://mangadex.org/title/31606/the-reason-why-raeliana-ended-up-at-the-duke-s-mansion

okay, tbh, by the time i reached 10, i still have like 15 other series i was considering LMAO. i even considered lengthening this top 10 to top 15. but that would just be more of me and my nonsense. so... why did i choose this?

COS I LOVE THE 2 MCs!!! they’re adorable. the plot is again, kinda far-fetched at times (i literally laugh my head off at some parts) but it’s isekai-reincarnation okay! anything is possible in whatever magical crap country you end up in! lol. and i like how straightforward it is... in the sense there’s no 2nd lead. like okay i mean they are there but we all know they have no chance. oops. sorry!

and cos i can’t give up on the other titles i have, imma just list them down, without pictures... cos im tired. HA. 

11. Doctor Elise 

https://mangadex.org/title/29474/doctor-elise 

Kudos to the huge improvement in art style lmao. The good... lovable MCs, engaging plot. The bad... sometimes lengthy, incredulous medical moments (i work in the medical field so i... idk. sometimes this borders on iryu LMAO and i need to remind myself this is romance) otherwise, this is a highly highly entertaining read.

12.  Seduce the Villain's Father

https://mangadex.org/title/46775/seduce-the-villain-s-father

This is another of my ‘father-love’ whims. MC is adorable and ML is handsome. enough said.

13.  The Villainess Lives Twice

https://mangadex.org/title/49644/the-villainess-lives-twice

This is like a lesser version of Ebony and Bring the Love combined HAHAHA. The plot and premise is great and it’s awesome to marathon! I don’t find myself loving the MC as much as I should but the ML is a darling! I just find her a little toooooooo gloomy. Like come on girl, be more spunky! 

14.  The Stereotypical Life of a Reincarnated Lady

https://mangadex.org/title/46790/the-stereotypical-life-of-a-reincarnated-lady

I dont know why I like this so much HAHAHAHA. It hardly has a plot. I just find the MC and ML amusing i guess lol. 

15.  I'm Stanning the Prince

https://mangadex.org/title/45586/i-m-stanning-the-prince

Sometimes I wonder if I should be ranking this higher but I kinda feel this manhwa is trying to achieve too much with an underpowered MC. I love her... but I just don’t like how she’s just a pawn of everyone else and I dont know how she can change this situation of hers. It’s cute though. the MC and ML.  and the ML reminds me so much of american/jap Mackenyu. 

16.  The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass

I HAD TO. the art is so pretty! but girl, dont use the hour glass so much! you look a little too old! i would appreciate it if MC stops basing too much of her moves on the “past” tho like idk you are gonna sound unoriginal soooooon like develop your own thoughts soon okay? <3

17. Inso's Law

ANOTHER ONE. omg. im a lil on the fence regarding this but i like MC too much. and her harem LOL. i dont see where the plot is going either but i just hope for a happy end... ):

18.  Why Are You Doing This, Duke?

HAHAHA. this is sooooo sooooooo cute, i would have ranked it top 15 if it wasnt licensed by tapas tho cos they are a joke. WHY NOT TAPPY GDI. 

19.  Miss Not-So Sidekick

Uh-oh. Is this a top-20 list now? anyway, the MC for this series is GOLD. im not liking where it’s currently heading tho thus the lower ranking.

20.  IRIS - Lady with a Smartphone

omg IVE NEGLECTED THIS FOR TOO LONG. lemme go buy more chapters hahahaha. it’s a tad too lengthy... otherwise i like the MC and yummy ML!

still not enough?

Special Mentions - Okay, these will be unranked cos I don’t think these are that good but probably still worth a read.

I've Become the Villainous Empress of a Novel - this is new, im looking forward to how it progresses wheeeee.

Lady to Queen - It’s a ruthless manhwa. There was a point i started reading all sorts of sadistic content (i was running out of content i swear) and this was one of the better ones. I appreciate the MC very much. the plot now is a little weird and im a bit wary of the MC’s sister... hopefully the ML can be more useful. he’s pitiful though. but dude come on, dont rely on the wrong gal.

Goodbye, In-law - I’m not sure if i like the current progress buuuuuuut MC and ML are cute so who cares.

The Duchess' 50 Tea Recipes - plot is still engaging. MC and ML are cute. i dont know where the plot is heading towards though. 

A Falling Cohabitation - this is interesting and fun but a lil lengthy.

Light and Shadow - the sequel is out!!! i highly enjoyed this entire series!!! i would have probably ranked it a lil higher if i did this post earlier but too many series have overtaken this in my heart lol.

This Girl Is a Little Wild - is the hiatus ending yet? i would add it back to top 20 if it came back LOL. it’s highly entertaining tho. ML is adorable.

The Duchess With an Empty Soul  - pretty nice. MC and ML are a little boring. i think it can end soon. LMAO.

A Capable Maid - it’s amusing how she gets her powers for all sorts of situations lol. the prince is creepy tbh. and im secretly rooting for the other king hehe.

Beware of the Brothers! - it’s cute and heart-wrenching at the same time! not too sure im digging the latest plot development but okay... i’ll take it. they’re all cuties.

Living as the Tyrant's Older Sister - hehehe. it’s cute. duke is kinda silly but the latest chapter made me squeal!!!

The Evil Lady's Hero  - idk where the plot is going but MC and ML are adorable!!!

The Dragon Next Door - HAHAHA. it’s hilarious.

The Youngest Princess - she’s growing uppppp noooooooooooo

Virtues of the Villainess - ginger is hilarious. i dont see where the plot is going tho... and cant say i like the ML yet. i dont even get to see him much, hello?!

The Justice of Villainous Woman - pretty wholesome... i like the MC! (the ML is fine. no one else to contend with so...) can u end already?! lol.

Amina of the Lamp - hey, what happened to this? it’s pretty inconsistent but i do like the MC and ML... and the art...

The Villain's Savior - this is some sadistic shit. i reserve it for when i feel sadistic. i pretty much wanna see MC happy but idk if she’s making the right choices. :/

I Don't Want to Be Empress! - HAHAHAHA uhm it’s getting interesting. i just want ML to step up more... 

La dolce vita di Adelaide - I FINISHED THIS! and it’s wholesome, feel-good and cute. some parts felt a lil extra but ah whatever.

The Black Haired Princess - plot. move. faster!!! otherwise the MC and ML are pretty cute.

The Abandoned Empress - im a lil on the fence but i know how popular this series is. it started out HORRIBLE. i hated the ML so much. and then i found the green hair boy creepy. like MC, you need better taste in boys. it’s certainly getting more interesting now though. so please, continue to make my money’s worth!!!

Lucia - i. am. not. guilty. of. anything. *smut warning* anyway go read the novel. it’s better. hehehe.

What's Wrong with Secretary Kim - i do not need to elaborate any further. 

Past loves 

I created this section just to remind myself, that what i could like one day, i could hate the next LOL.

The Monster Duchess and Contract Princess - I know this is wildly popular. but i lost interest in it once she grew up. i dont think she’s particularly lovable. soz.

Survive as the Hero's Wife - another popular choice. I find the plot kinda boring now. MC and ML are cute though. 

Sincerely: I Became a Duke's Maid - another popular one. again, boring plot. like cant it end yet? oh you mean we need to wait for the real female lead to show up? dont need luh.

I Am a Child of This House - wow. the plot is shit now. and i do not support the MC and her guard. soz. she’s OVERPOWERED tbh. 

This Is an Obvious Fraudulent Marriage - idk what happened but my enthusiasm for this died.

Charlotte and Her 5 Disciples - i don’t get it. i dont get their obsession for her. 

[qwertyfingers]

suicide tw i guess sorry i just need to. say things and not have a real conversation but how the fuck am i supposed to get out of this state of mind rn when im in thjs much pain literally nothing is helping at all. even if i wasnt also strugglign mentally for other reasons this would be insane to deal with. its been 10 fucking years of just eternal decline the pain gets worse and worse im developing increasingly dangerous symptoms i literally *physically* on a chemical level can't get anywhere close to a healthy amount of sleep because everything is so fucked up in my brain. 3-5 nights a week i cant even lie down all the way because the pain gets worse because the pressures so bad and no one can help me no one can improve any of this even a little bit. maybe i get lucky and in 6-9 months time the new injection reduces the symptoms enough to get back to my previous level of disability where i [checks notes] uh 'still cant function in a basic way but at least get more than 2-3 hours of lucidity per day' and thats maybe 60% likely. 40% chance it has little-no effect and the nhs refuses to fund it long term and my literal last hope for any relief from this hell is lost. and i cant even bring myself to be hopeful about the medication working because i have lost all sense of optimism or belief in my own body and dont know that ill ever get it back. given the symptoms and my dad getting diagnosed with the same thing theres close to 100% certainty my migraines are literally just a result of spinal instability in my neck that could be fixed surgically but its literally impossible to get in the uk and the sums of money needed even just to get assessed are so astronomical it will literally never happen. i cant do this for the rest of my life! i cant spend 30-40-50-however many years exhausted and distraught and in agony with absolutely no reprieve or hope or change. whats the point! what do i have to live for? media consumption? i cant even hold a conversation online about things i like anymore. when was the last time i managed to reply more than 2-3 times before the conversation fizzled out or i got too sick to be online or i forgot i was talking at all and just disappeared. i will never be able to go back to school i will never have any kind of work that fulfils me in any way. ill probably never regain my ability to read even close to as well as before. my drawing ability will keep deteriorating and ive already lost all patience and affection for the process of making art in any form. ill never be able to regularly do the things i used to love like hike and play team sports and act on stage. ill never get back my mathematical ability ill never get to study physics like i wanted ill keep losing parts of myself by inches and miles every time something in my body deteriorates. i lost everything i cared about at 16 and the only thing that kept me alive was my hope that i could recover some semblance of it, and then i almost died a few dozen times and my hope wavered but at least i had my fucking stubbornness and now i dont rven have that. i have no spite or rage or tenacity or ferocious desire to prove myself against all the odds anymore im just tired. physically mentally spiritually its all just over and done i got nothing left to give to this fight now. what is the point of suffering through it all if the struggle is so utterly painfully meaningless.

[meowmerson]

Can you write a Tomione doctor AU? I’ve always thought it would be really cute if they were surgeons.

perhaps…………………a nurse/patient AU????????????? :)

(only because i was trying to think of a story for doctor tomione but my brain kept going back to this so i hope its ok, if it s not you can send me another ask DEMANDING A SURGEON AU and i promise i will brainstorm an idea)

(also uh im sorry i made it really long)

–

It’s the tail end of the night shift when she sees him, although the first time is fleeting. Fleeting, but not irrelevant. 

He’s flanked by six guards from the prison. He looks like he’s in pain, and quite a lot of it. He’s wheeled in on a hospital bed to room 119 and she watches from the reception desk as he and his entourage of prison guards pass her by in almost slow motion. 

“What timing,” Lavender said with a cheeky grin, “Your shift just ended. You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

“Your idea of fun,” Hermione corrected, completing her chart for the night, “My idea of fun involves going home, having breakfast with my daughter, taking her to school, and going to sleep,” She put her pen down and smiled in the face of Lavender’s pout, “But enjoy the day shift with the clearly dangerous criminal.”

“Tell Rose I said hi,” Lavender said. 

Hermione went home and did exactly as she said she would. She paid the babysitter, laid down in Rose’s bed for a moment before gently waking her. She smiled at her 3-year-old daughter across bowls of cheerios and listened to her talk about what she dreamt about the night before. Then she dressed Rose, brought her to pre-school, kissed her goodbye, and returned home. She fell asleep in her scrubs, and didn’t dream about the man flanked by prison guards. 

–

Hermione worked nights for a few reasons. The biggest one was the amount of time she got to spend with her daughter - she could always skimp on sleep to spend more time with Rose, but she couldn’t exactly skip work, and if she only worked while Rose was sleeping (save for a few precious hours at night) it meant she would never need to miss a school play, a birthday party, pancakes on sundays, or pillow forts in their living room. She could see all of that. 

Nights were quieter too. No visitors, some patients slept but some didn’t, Lavender only worked day shifts so Hermione only ever saw her for an hour at most if their shifts overlapped which was about as much of Lavender as she could take. And no visitors, god Hermione hated visitors. 

She worked 3 nights a week, sometimes 4 if she needed the money and they had an overtime shift for her. She was always tired, always a bit stressed, and her hair had never looked worse than it did in motherhood, but it was all worth it for the time she got to spend with her daughter. 

She had to remember that, when she had nights like this one. 

“Apparently he hasn’t urinated in a week,” Neville said, “He had a pretty severe blatter infection and sepsis but is steadily getting better,”

“Why hadn’t he urinated?” Hermione asked, and Neville shrugged. 

“They think it might be an escape plan, so uh,” he none-too-subtly leaned to the side to peer at the guards outside room 119, “They’re keeping an eye on him.”

“How is he?” She asked.

“Horrible,” He answered, “Right bastard, gave Lavender hell all day on his first day in, didn’t sleep all night, then we gave him to Minerva–”

“Well, surely she set him straight,” Hermione interjected.

Neville laughed, but there was no humor in it, “Yeah well, she handled it fine, but she also said if we give him to her as a patient again she’s going to retire.”

“Shit,” Hermione sighed. She thought of Rose, asleep in her bed and thought of seeing her in the morning and waking her up for breakfast, “So naturally you give him to me.”

“Well,” He shrugged, looking sheepish, “It was either you or me, so…”

“So you sweet-talked the charge nurse into giving you an easy night?” Hermione quirked a brow and Neville just grinned. Hermione sighed, picked up the chart, and turned to face Room 119. 

There were only two guards now, not six, and they nodded at her as she entered. 

Tom Riddle sat on the bed in a room of his own, he looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and he fixed his eyes disconcertingly on her the moment she stepped through the door. 

“My name is Hermione,” She said, putting gloves on at the door, “I’ll be your nurse tonight.”

“Is that so?” He asked. His voice was deep, but gravelly. He must be exhausted, she thought, if he truly hadn’t slept since he arrived. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, but before he could answer she added, “I hear you haven’t slept since–”

“How can I sleep?” He cut her off, “Sitting in a hospital bed with a new nurse every few hours asking me the same inane questions?”

Hermione paused, observed him for a moment. She had dealt with plenty of difficult patients, was used to biting her tongue and slapping a smile on her face. He kept staring at her with dark eyes, his jaw clenched, and she knew what she was in for. 

“Well, Mr. Riddle,” Hermione said with a smile, “I will endeavor not to ask the same inane questions, then.” She stepped closer, made a vague gesture in his direction and asked, “May I?”

He was receiving fluids, antibiotics, seemed stable, she just needed to check his blood pressure to be sure. The fact that he obviously hadn’t slept wasn’t a good sign and certainly wouldn’t help in his recovery. He nodded once, tersely, and she glanced back at the guards at the door. 

“Is it because of the guards that you won’t sleep?” She asked as she took his blood pressure. His brow twitched, but he didn’t look away from her face.

“If I said yes, would you take them away?” He asked her. She looked up from her work to meet his eye and tried to figure out if he was making a joke. 

Either way she laughed, shook her head, and said, “I think we would both love that, but no, unfortunately not.”

His blood pressure was low, but according to his chart improving. It would probably help if he slept. She met his gaze, he was still watching her. “Your blood pressure is low.” She told him, “You should sleep.”

“I should sleep?” He echoed, his brow rose like he was talking down to a child, “Close my eyes, and dream?” He looked almost crazed, she thought. She wasn’t sure if that was the lack of sleep, the time he spent in prison, or maybe it was just who he was. Either way, she didn’t move - it was always better not to react when a patient became angry. “Let the medication take effect, while the rest of you skirt around me like an animal in cage–”

“Sir–” She interjected, but he spoke over her. 

“While men with guns fantasize about the possibility of turning those very guns on me while I sleep and while I continue to be denied visitors that I would typically be allowed to see simply because I am unwell–” She sighed and made to move away as he worked himself up, but he grabbed her arm. She met his eyes again “–Don’t pretend to be concerned for my health, nurse,” He spat, “Shut your mouth, treat me, and keep your inane thoughts to yourself, lest I lose my temper.”

“Hey!” A guard from the door called, took a step into the room. Hermione held out a hand to stop him, “Miss–” 

“Please let me do my job!” She said, turning to hold a hand out more firmly against the guard at the door. He hesitated, shifted his weight on his feet. “Return to your post, please.”

The guard very pointedly looked at the place where Mr. Riddle’s hand was on her arm. Hermione looked at that same hand, then back at the guard, and she hoped she was communicating every ounce of annoyance she felt in that stare.

The guard returned to his post. 

Hermione’s gently pried Tom Riddle’s fingers from her arm. “It was merely a suggestion,” She said and met his eyes with a smile, “Stay awake if you wish.”

He was stable, so she turned to leave the room. The guard stopped her at the door. “Hey, uh–” He said, glancing into the room and back at her, “Could I get a sandwich?”

She looked him up and down. 

“It’s just, we’ve been here all day, I’m pretty hungry.”

“No,” She snapped, “We don’t give sandwiches to the guards, they’re for the patients.”

“Well, he’s not going to eat it.” He said, gesturing toward Room 119 with his head. Hermione, taken aback, glanced into the room and saw Mr. Riddle’s eyes fixed on her before she looks back at the guard.

“Don’t ask me again,” She said, and walked away. 

–

That night, she had Mr. Riddle with the temper and the armed guards, Mrs. Sprout with the lovely disposition recovering from a severe allergic reaction, and Mr. Crouch the drug seeker in the hospital for a broken leg who wouldn’t stop screaming for opiates, and Mr. Riddle’s stupid fucking guard who kept asking her for sandwiches.

It was a long night. 

“What is he in for, anyway?” Padma asked, looking toward Hermione for an answer. She didn’t have to specify who - obviously she meant the one with the guards. Hermione shrugged - she really didn’t know.

“Like everything.” Neville said, pouring himself a coffee while Padma patiently awaited her cup. “He’s in jail for life for everything from selling weed to killing people and chopping them up.”

“No way,” Padma said.

“Yes way,” Neville took a sip from his coffee and shrugged, “You heard about him - he went by Voldemort.”

Padma gasped, turned and faced Hermione with wide eyes and a wide-open mouth, “Hermione, you’re treating Voldemort,”

“I’m treating a very irritable prison patient” Hermione corrected, “And not for the first time.”

“He was all over the news last year!” Padma said, clearly distressed, “He’s crazy - and I heard he didn’t piss for a week to be sent here, this is probably all his plan or–”

“Padma, drop it.” Hermione snapped. “There are two guards outside his room, a guard at the lifts, a guard at each stairwell and at the front entrance of the hospital. Mr. Riddle is in a hospital bed recovering from sepsis.” She stood up, “I suggest we all stop panicking and help him to recover, like it’s our job to do.”

She left the break room and glanced toward Room 119 and saw only one guard.

“Excuse me!” She called, hurrying toward the singular guard, “Excuse me,” She said again, peeking into the room. Mr. Riddle was still awake, watching her as she appeared in the doorway. She looked at the guard, “Where the hell is the other one?”

“Miss, please calm down.” The guard said. 

“Where is he?” She asked again, “Where has he gone - doesn’t he have a job to do?”

“He stepped away for a moment.”

“Stepped away where?” She demanded.

“Calm down, nurse,” A voice said, and she turned her head to see the guard approaching with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Where did you get that?” She asked quietly, a familiar feeling of annoyance mixed with rage in her chest, the kind that only comes after a long night of work on very little sleep.

“The vending machine downstairs.” He said, shrugging. He started to open the package, but Hermione snatched it out of his hands. 

“This nurse has a name,” She said, “It’s Hermione Granger, and I expect you to use it. And no one,” She lifted the sandwich to eye level, right in his face, “Is going to be eating any sandwiches here except for Mr. Riddle, as he is the patient. The rest of us will do our jobs and eat when we’re done.”

The guard laughed, “Okay, okay, just give me back the–” He reached for it and she snatched it away. His smile fell off his face. 

She marched into the room, tearing open the package and thrusting it toward Mr. Riddle in his bed. 

“He doesn’t want it!” The Guard protested.

“Yes he does,” Hermione snapped, and turned back toward Mr. Riddle in the bed, who was staring oddly at her. “Don’t you, Mr Riddle?”

He just stared at her. She thought maybe he would have another temper tantrum and start yelling. “Take it,” She encouraged gently, “Please.”

To her surprise, he did. He took the sandwich and took a bite, watching her all the while. 

She smiled. 

“There,” She said, turning back toward the guard, “Don’t leave your post again or I will inform your superior.”

She left the room, grateful that Mr. Riddle didn’t have another one of his outbursts this time. 

Her shift was nearly over anyway. 

–

When she returned home, she laid down in Rose’s bed minutes before she was meant to wake. 

“Mummy?” Rose murmured.

“Good morning,” Hermione whispered.

“I dreamed you were a kangaroo.” Rose said.  Hermione laughed. 

“Were you a Joey?” Hermioned asked. 

“No,” She said, “I’m a Rose.”

Hermione laughed again, “A Joey is a baby kangaroo,” She explained. 

“Oh,” Rose said, and then, “Can we have cheerios?”

Hermione loved these moments more than anything.

She watched Rose over bowls of Cheerios again. She would gladly spend every morning, every moment like this. She thought of the loneliness she felt when she first found out she was pregnant, the boundless love she felt when she held her in her arms for the first time, the feeling in her chest like she was going to explode with happiness when the nurse handed over her baby, wrapped in a white blanket.

She dreamed of a life where she could have this always, no interruptions. 

–

She returned to work the next night. 

“Why the hell do I have Riddle again?” She asked when she looked at the assignments for the night. Lavender was there, the tail end of her shift, and she raised her eyebrows and looked away. “What?” Hermione pressed. 

Minerve spoke up, “He asked for you.”

“He what?” Hermione balked. 

“Fucking screamed about it,” Lavender muttered, “I tried to bring him something to help him sleep and he slapped it out of my hand and said he wouldn’t take anything from the hand of a whore.”

“He said what?” 

“He’s crazy,” Lavender said, “Fucking crazy, good luck Hermione, you’ll need it.”

And she left like that, clearly furious. Hermione looked to Minerva, but Minerva said nothing, simply raised her eyebrows in the way she always did and left to start her rounds. 

The guards outside the room were different than the night before. They nodded to her as she entered. Mr Riddle watched her, looking more tired than ever. 

“Miss Granger,” He greeted. 

“Mr. Riddle,” Hermione replied, smiling, “I heard you were asking for me.”

“You’re my favorite nurse.” He said. 

“Already?” Hermione asked, “Well, it sounds like you aren’t giving anyone else much of a chance.”

“I liked seeing you with McLaggen yesterday.” He said. Hermione wasn’t sure what he meant, and that must have shown on her face, because he said, “The guard.”

“Ah,” She nodded, and added, “You know, this version of you doesn’t exactly match up with the man who apparently slapped medication out of a nurse’s hand and called her a whore.”

“That nurse,” Riddle said as Hermione read over his chart and set about checking his vitals, “goes between speaking to me like I’m a child, and speaking to me like I’m a war criminal.”

“Sometimes you act like both,” Hermione said. 

Mr. Riddle snapped his eyes to meet hers, and it took that for her to realize he finally hadn’t been staring at her. But he was now. Hermione blinked, and then realized what she just said. 

“I hope you won’t start slapping me and calling me a whore.” She said, a poor attempt at a joke.

He smiled then, and it struck her that despite the dark circles around his bloodshot eyes, despite his pale skin and gaunt cheeks he really was sinfully handsome. “You wouldn’t like that?” He asked. 

“No,” Hermione said firmly, and trying to change the subject she asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I am,” He said, but before she could be too pleased by his cooperation, he continued, “But first I have a question.”

“Yes?” She prompted. 

“How old are you?” He asked. 

She smiled. Such a random question, such a strangely serene patient. “I’m 27.”

“You look older,” He said, and she couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh. “I don’t mean any offense,” He continued, “I mean that you don’t hold yourself like most people your age.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The way you look. Like someone who has a large amount of responsibility and wisdom. A teacher, a scholar,” Hermione was taking her gloves off when he said, “Or a mother.”

She paused. She watched him for a long moment in silence. The guards stood silently outside the door.

“I apologize,” Mr. Riddle said, “I am only trying to make conversation. 

“Are you a father?” She asked him, and he laughed. Twice she’d seen him smile now. 

“No,” He said, “I never had time.”

She thought about what Padma and Neville said in the breakroom, thought about the armed guards at every exit. She wondered why he was asking her these questions, why he was here, why he had forced himself to become ill enough to end up in the hospital, she wondered…

“I have a daughter.” She admitted. Because here he was a man, receiving treatment, and she refused to treat him like an animal. 

“Does she look like you?” He asked her, “Or her father?”

She smiled, a bit tightly, and didn’t answer. 

He did a funny thing then - hie eyes narrowed just a bit, he tilted his head, and his mouth twisted in what wasn’t quite a smile but couldn’t be defined as anything else. 

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Hermione said, “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

“Not yet,” He said, “I don’t want to sleep while you’re here.”

Her stomach twisted at that, and she a strange, nervous feeling made her hands twitch, as if there was something humming just underneath her skin. 

“I’ll bring you some food.” She said. 

“Thank you, Hermione.” He said. 

The guards watched her as she left the room. 

–

He was the easiest patient she ever had. 

He let her run his IV, administer the antibiotics, check his vitals, all without any complaints, just a few odd questions. He didn’t ask about her daughter again, perhaps because he noted that she became uncomfortable when he did. Instead, he asked what her parents did for a living, he asked where she was from, he asked irrelevant things like her favorite flower and how she took her tea. 

He was much chattier than she expected him to be. 

“Miss Granger,” Minerva said in the break room, using her surname as if she was a patient. She always did that. “How has Mr. Riddle been?”

“Fine, actually.” Hermione said. “The guards are more difficult than he is, although the ones tonight aren’t so bad. They’re quiet.”

Minerva raised a single eyebrow and said nothing else. 

Hermione gave Tom Riddle a sleeping pill at the end of her shift, and he took it with a smile.

–

“Do you have to go?” Rose asked. 

It was 7:00pm. The babysitter had just arrived and Hermione was dressed in her scrubs ready to go to work for the third night in a row and Rose was crying. Hermione brushed her daughter’s hair out of her face and felt her heart wrench. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said, “I’ll be back in the morning, just like always.”

“But I want you to read me a story,” Rose sniffled, snot running out of her nose. She wiped at it messily with the back of her hand. “I want you to read me a bedtime story.”

“I’ll read you a story in the morning, I promise.” Hermione said, “I’ll come back home, just like always, in the morning. When you wake up I’ll be right there next to you.”

She never once wished that Rose’s father was around - he didn’t even know he had a child, and Hermione would keep it that way - but in moments like this, she always wished she wasn’t alone. Maybe it would be easier that way. 

Rose wouldn’t stop crying. Hermione had to shut the door on her crying and begging her mother not to leave. 

–

“Again?” Hermione snapped as soon as she saw the assignments for the night. “Again? Seriously?”

“Stop complaining,” Lavender snapped, “Everyone knows he’s an angel with you.”

“Why are you still here?” Hermione snapped back, and Lavender glowered back at her. 

“I’m just leaving,” She said, “He has given me hell ever since he woke up, so good fucking luck.”

She watched Lavender storm out, but the only thing she really took from that conversation was that he finally got some rest. She looked at Room 119, saw the guards outside the door. McLaggen, the annoying one, he still wasn’t there - it was the same guards from the night before. 

She started toward the room, and the guards watched her closely as they always did. They nodded to her as she entered the room.

And she stopped short. 

A tall, blonde man was sat by Mr. Riddle’s bed. He had one of Riddle’s hands clasped between his, and looked as if he was saying something quite passionately before Hermione interrupted. 

Visitors weren’t allowed on the night shift. 

Tom Riddle wasn’t meant to have visitors at all.

“What the hell is this?” Hermione asked, quietly, let the low tone of her voice fill the room that was silent except for the steady beating of Mr. Riddle’s heart monitor. 

Tom Riddle blinked at her, and said nothing. 

“No visitors.” She said firmly, and turned toward the guards, “Why the hell does he have a visitor?”

The guards looked at each other, and then her, and said nothing. 

She turned toward the blonde man, feeling as if she was in a dream or on a TV show, something that couldn’t be real life, “Get out.” She snapped, “No visitors - what part of no visitors do you not understand? Who let you in here?”

“Nurse,” The blonde man snapped, holding up a finger as if to say ‘wait, one second, “Give us a moment.”

“No, I will not give you a moment.” Hermione snapped, “No visitors. Period. You need to leave.” She turned to the guards, “Excuse me?” She threw up her hands, hoping they would soon understand the ridiculousness of the situation. “Get him out.”

The guards walked in, finally, and said, “Sir, it’s time to leave.”

“No, it is not time to leave.” The blonde man snapped. He must come from money, Hermione thought, that was the only thing that would explain his tone. “We are having a private conversation, so if you don’t mind–”

“Abraxas,” Mr. Riddle interjected. “Do as Hermione asks.”

First, the blonde man - Abraxas - screwed up his face and looked at Mr. Riddle like he thought he was crazy. Then he looked at Hermione, and back at Tom. His expression changed, flattened out, like he suddenly understood something, then he turned his eyes back to Hermione and stared. 

He just stared and stared, his expression unreadable, in a way that made Hermione acutely uncomfortable. 

“Goodbye, sir,” She said, then turned to the guards and said, “Could you both do your job, please?”

“No need,” Abraxas said, his tone quieter, less snobby, less snippy. “I’ll see myself out.”

He reached down and clasped Mr. Riddle’s hand once more, but said nothing. Then he left.

Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath, tried to shut the anger away. She felt on edge tonight, it started with the way she left her daughter and was only made worse with all this bullshit. She turned on the guards again, who were returning to their post. 

“No visitors.” She snapped, “At all.”

One of the guards nodded tersely. Neither said anything. 

She turned back to Mr. Riddle, who was watching her patiently from his bed. 

She shouldn’t mention it to him. She knew he could get nasty, she shouldn’t try his temper, she should try to have a nice night at work, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know you aren’t allowed visitors.” She said.

“I know.” He agreed, “I apologize. He always visited me in custody - it is a wasted effort to try and explain to him that anything should be different here.”

“Seems its a wasted effort to explain anything to him at all.” Hermione snarked, pulling on her rubber gloves. Mr. Riddle chuckled.

“You aren’t wrong,” He agreed, and watched her very closely as she approached the bed, “You seem agitated.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked, ignoring his observation. 

“I am steadily improving,” He said, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing just fine,” She said, moving to take his blood pressure. He caught her arm, far more gentle than the last time he touched her. 

“Hermione,” He said her name quietly, reverently, it made her stop in her tracks for a moment. “I can tell that you aren’t.”

She met his eyes then. She had no desire to entertain whatever delusions he was experiencing, whatever it was he thought was going on here. She wanted to get on with her job and return home to her daughter and let him be dragged back to prison. 

“I am frustrated that the patients of this hospital are incapable of following basic instructions, and concerned about how incapable the guards outside your room seem to be at doing their job.” She said, “I would like to check your vitals, and then go about my job. I have patients other than you, Mr. Riddle.”

His jaw clenched. He let go of her arm. 

She went about her business, and he let her. No questions, no comments, no interruptions. It felt strange, charged, she found that she preferred it when he asked her odd questions. 

Abruptly, she felt guilty. Not because she felt like Mr. Riddle didn’t deserve to be told off, because she believed that he did. But it was her job to be his nurse, not anything else, and she had no business telling him off when he was being nothing but polite. She always hated the idea of someone being treated like a burden, or an animal, or anything other than a person in need of human interaction, and who was she to tell off the patient when it was the guards and the nursing staff who allowed it to happen in the first place?

“My daughter,” She said after a long stretch of silence, “She was crying when I left. I hate to leave her like that.”

“It must be difficult,” He said, not missing a beat, as if he was ready for her to break the silence. “Raising her on your own.” 

“Yes,” She agreed, “It is. I wish I could be with her all the time.”

“You are a good mother.” He told her. 

She stopped her work, raised her head to meet his eyes again. He was always staring at her so intensely, in a way that made her hair stand on end. 

She couldn’t help herself when she asked him, “Why do you have armed guards all throughout the hospital guarding you?”

He smiled, “Because I’m a prisoner.” He told her. 

“I can’t imagine you committing a crime so terrible you need to be brought in by six guards.” She admitted. 

He smiled, and said nothing else. 

And something about the way he looked away from her then, looked toward the guards, still smiling, like something about this whole situation was deeply amusing that made her think; it truly wasn’t so far fetched. 

And remember the way he acted to people other than herself, remembering the way he somehow had a visitor with the permission of the guards and the nursing staff, she wondered why she had thought it was far-fetched, even for a minute.

She needed some air. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But not yet.”

A strange answer, but Hermione just nodded and left the room. 

The guards, as always, watched her as she left.

–

Hermione researched Voldemort on her break.

Neville wasn’t wrong, he was in prison for life. He was found guilty on counts of Assault, kidnapping, theft, robbery, murder, and multiple drug charges. He was the kingpin for the Death Eaters, which as Hermione understood from the news she read, was an organized crime unit that participated in predominantly drug and arms trading. 

If the hospital was an escape plan, as was the original concern, she wondered how someone like him could take so long to carry out his plan. She wondered why he was still there, sitting in his hospital room surrounded by prison guards, sitting patiently, as if he didn’t have any plan but to get well again. 

She called the babysitter to check on Rose. She was asleep in her bed. 

Hermione took a deep breath and returned to work. 

–

“You don’t work tomorrow night.” Mr. Riddle said when she was checking on him after her break. 

“No, I’m not.” Hermione said, “Did you ask someone if I was?”

“Yes,” He admitted, “You’re my favorite nurse.”

Hermione smiled. “Try not to call any other nurses whores and you should be just fine.”

“I can’t help it,” He said, “It does make me angry when I have a nurse who isn’t you.”

“That’s rather childish, don’t you think?”

“You know, we’ve met before.” He admitted, and that abruptly caught Hermione’s attention. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, quietly, as if they were telling secrets. 

He lowered his voice to match her tone, “Once, you looked after a gunshot wound for one of my friends,” Hermione furrowed her brow, shaking her head, she was sure she would remember meeting him. “Before that, a colleague who nearly lost their leg,” 

“Mr. Riddle–”

“But that wasn’t the first time.” He continued. His gaze was decidedly intense now. Hermione felt helplessly caught up in it. “The first time,  I came to the hospital on business.” He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, “You were a patient, and I was in the wrong room.”

She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t remember. 

“I held your daughter in my arms,” Hermione felt something heavy settle in her chest, something cold, “You were half asleep. You asked me to hand her to you, you didn’t know who I was. I realized I was in the wrong room but I couldn’t bear to leave.”

“Why were you there?” She asked, her voice was shaking slightly, try as she may to conceal it. 

“I was waiting for someone,” He said.

“To threaten them with their baby in your arms?” She guessed. He had that strange expression again, his eyes slightly narrowed, his head tilted, and she knew she was right. “What are you doing here, Mr. Riddle?”

“Right now,” He answered, his voice soft, “I’m looking at you, wondering how many more times we should cross paths before I finally begin paying attention.”

She moved away, feeling unsettled, afraid. She turned, and the guards were stood at the doorway as if nothing was happening at all. 

“Mr. Riddle, are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But I don’t want hospital food.”

“I’m afraid thats all I can offer you,” She said, “I’ll let you get some rest.”

She left him like that. She didn’t check him again for the remainder of her shift, and then she left. 

She went home, and made good on her promise to Rose to read her a story in the morning. 

–

Rose was coloring at the table while the TV was on that morning. Hermione stayed awake despite the long night shift before to have more time with her daughter.

No matter how many channels she switched through they all had the same message. 

Voldemort escaped from Hogwarts Medical Centre at 8:22am. 

Police had yet to make a statement. 

No one knew where he was. 

“Mummy,” Rose called, looking up from her coloring book, “Can we bake muffins today?”

Hermione tried to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled deep in her gut. She smiled at her daughter, and thought of the nurse that had so gently handle her daughter over to her that first night. The man who wasn’t really a nurse at all. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Hermione said, and she smiled. 

She switched off the TV.

[weeb-writings]

hcs of tsuki and akaashi w/ s.o who fences & does vb

omg a request >.< i am so happy you requested 

this is for the wonderful: @clyeste 

request: headcannons of Tsukishima and Akaashi whoose s/o fences on the same level they do volleyball (fencing is to put simply sword fighting !) 

ahhh i love fencing so much :), as someone mixed w french this spoke a lot to me lol :) but yeah, fencing is such a beautiful sport :) 

warnings: none , ok i lied maybe swearing- 

pairings: tsukishima x gn!reader, akaashi x gn!reader

a/n: i hope i did okay! if you have any thing i can improve on, lmk! also the position in volleyball wasnt specified so i didnt go too into depth about what role you play exactly

if you have any reqs, be sure to ask! if you have any comments/anything i can improve on pls lmk

Tsukishima

bye hes so ATTRACTIVE i cannot BREATHE- 

omg im so sorry hes just wow 

okay so, tsuki (as hes always hced) is gonna seem like hes not that interested in the fact that his so is quite literally amazing

like youre balancing two sports instead of one?? and here he is lazing around (ok not rlly but you know what i mean) 

when you tell him he might not seem like he gives two flying fucks but inside hes PANICKING

like his mind is straight up spiraling???? 

i take him as a guy whos shown some interest in fencing before so when you reveal to him that you play it, hes instantly gonna wanna marry you

oh you have a game?? will message you an hour before w some lame ass excuse as to why hes coming

you let him know you have matches for fencing and hes ALWAYS there, always, even if its for five minutes

he thinks your technique is INCREDIBLE and he thinks it makes you look so elegant and endearing hes in love w you reader >:( i ship yall-

but like ok so, once hes processed the fact that you play fencing, hes going ape shit inside his head (and his heart) bc somefuckinghow you also play volleyball too 

when you end up missing his practice, hes gonna be all like ?? huh whered you go in a really bitchy subtle way 

and you were like, sorry i was at practice 

but you have fencing every friday wednesday and monday?? today’s tuesday

first of all, WE BEEN knew his ass has your schedule memorised to the dot 

so youre like 0o0 

and hes like uhhhh

and then youre like “i was at volleyball” and hes salty so hes like no you werent~~

and youre like, dude i play for this team outside of school (which is still super popular) *insert you deadpanning here* 

and now its his turn to be like 0o0 

yknow when hinata drops a feint on bokuto and bokuto is like “HAHHHHHH” and in shock

yeah its tsuki for like a split second b4 he gets his act together

but you noticed bc youre special like that

you will tease him endlessly (as you should) 

and as much as he tries to make it seem like he doesnt care, he does, a lot

hes always having extra snacks for you and water in case you like overwork yourself 

and if youre not as his practice or games, hes at yours 

hes your number one fan and supporter

the type of bf to show you off in subtle ways

idk like maybe has keepsake of yours w him that he carries w him all the time

he def. will practice volleyball w you and will make fun of you for sucking, even if youre better than him 

overall, hes super supportive of you 

and he will check in to make sure youre not overworking yourself

will help you w school work if you need it bc youre so damn busy

will sneak in a compliment or two between insults abt how you’re wasting time or too busy

basically he loves you-

Akaashi

next we have the most beautiful man in the world, my husband, your boyfriend!!!!

sorry he’s just so *chefs kiss*

but anyways, i feel like when he first learns that you play volleyball, it’s before you two even met??

bokuto probably mentioned you once or twice before bc you play for a popular volleyball club outside of school

so, naturally, akaashi basically knows you’re good at the sport & that you help keep the ball in play

when he first meets you, you start the convo off abt him being a good setter, to which he responds by talking abt how he’s heard about how you play, etc.

because of this common interest, you hit it off in more than one way and BAM y’all are dating

fast forward a couple months, and akaashi has your v-ball schedule memorized to the dot

so when you text him saying practice is running late so you might not make it to your date

he’s like ?????????

what practice? bc like it’s saturday, who tf had practice on saturdays

i do but that’s not the point here

he’s like, “uh baby what practice”

and youre like fencing

and he’s like .....

and then you remember that throughout the entirety of you two knowing each other, you’ve never mentioned the fact that you do fencing

and he’s like so in awe ??????

he’s like,,,,, you do fencing????

and you’re like yeah?? and you can feel the awkward vibe through these text messages

after he processes that, he’s like oh go finish and i’ll pick you up

so he picks you up, and you’re in your white fencing suit bc he comes a bit early

and he’s watching you practice, and this boy is MESMERIZED

like really

he loves you so much, and thinks you look so amazing + your technique is so good

and he’s someone who can easily pay attention to the little details, every turn, every torque he’s there to watch you

after he picks you up from practice, you notice the faint blush on his cheeks

he just loves you that much omfg-

after that day, he’ll ask you abt fencing and he’ll learn more abt it

when y’all practice volleyball together, he’ll be sure to ask you how fencing is going, etc.

like tsuki, he’ll be there at your practice & matches for both vball and fencing

overall, he’s super supportive

and he’s smart, so he’s making sure you’re up to date w school work

makes sure you don’t over exhaust yourself and always has extra food & water w him in the case you end up getting hungry/thirsty/tired

he just loves you so much so he’s always watching out for you

is definitely motivated by you to keep up w his own things, bc you balancing out multiple things at once is so amazing to him

you’re amazing to him

bye he loves you >;( this is a ship that will sail forever

[cowboyjen68]

I can’t help but feel like a stunted 23 y/o. Toxic relationship with my mother but still live with her, I feel like a teen but more responsibility & an office job. Too tired to be social so I have few friends to those I’ve known since childhood who are out meeting new ppl. And ofc I’m a lesbian as the cherry on top so my love life is struggling. I’m tired of being closeted & having to endure lame questions about my virginity/lack of boyfriend & im sure my mom gets those questions too. Fuck.

You are CLEARLY not alone (see the previous ask I answered this morning).  

Being dependent, either financially or otherwise, to anyone is a hard place to be as an adult. But the fact is many of find ourselves there at some point. Some of us with parents, others with a partner or even a roommate and later, some of of us with our adult children. 

Our society is not set to support people living on their own. It always assumes a partnership of more than one person. Everyone is assumed to be “two income”. SO don’t feel bad that you can’t afford things on your own. 

The best thing you can do is focus your energy on a goal. Let’s say that goal is to get your own place. Right now you are “tired” and have no energy possibly because you work, come home to an uncomfortable environment, than back to work.That is surviving not living.  If your energy is due to health or mental health, first stop: see your medical dr. Then seek therapy. Many places offer free and reduced and even teletherapy or video consultation. 

After that take a look at what you can do to get to your goal.  Get your license if you don’t have one. Make sure you have access to your birth certificate and SS card.  Research what is the minimum type of an apartment you would be happy in and triple that. (first last and one extra month). Research utilities, WiFi, moving expenses. .What you are doing is refocusing your energy to the positive. Doing something that is within your power because feeling powerless is a big part of your suffering. 

Got a number? DO a budget. Find a bank with a high interest saving account, either on line or local. Talk to a credit union financial advisor. I use a company called Stash that compiles many small investments into one big one so I can invest even on my budget,  ( I am in medium risk) and you can choose. low, medium or high. But just a savings account is fine. Start with 10.00 a paycheck. See how it feels.  

While doing this in small steps, possibly seek volunteer or hobby opportunities to enrich your life. Right now you can’t go out and help at senior centers or food banks mostly likely but think about what you like. Do you like books ?Find an on line book club with a genre you enjoy. The internet means you can find people from all over the world to meet and share what you like. Maybe history ? Many museums, even small local ones, need old manuscripts and journals transcribed. You can do this from home. Some shelters are still allowing dogs to be walked. 

Eventually, find local places to donate some time. Meet people that way. You have shared interests with them, at least one, already. These new people in your life can become references, roommates or help you network.

Lastly, don’t worry about your mom and her “hurt’ feelings about your sexuality. You don’t owe her comfort. Of course if your safety and housing rely on you staying in the closet, then you have to for now, at least at home. But stressing about her fielding those questions is not your problem.

You can start with smaller goals too. Like saving 200.00. Or saving and planning a weekend trip just for you when this is over. Or take a course in something that might improve your employment value. 

I have not yet used this company but I have researched it. It is an investment company for women and owned by a woman. As a top investment broker she recognized that women were not investing for a variety of reasons and she wants to change that. This allows you to invest very little and build from there. It seems silly to invest in the stock market now, but you can research it and see what you think. https://www.ellevest.com/

Feeling less powerless is going to help boost your energy and, in turn,your drive to do more. 

[ackermancurse]

im super excited to see ffh !!! on another note tho, (sorry for nsfw) imagine thighriding w peter. him holding your hips to control your movements..

AN: kinda got carried away and wrote a whole essay haha but this is my first time posting smut on my blog so please give me feedback! i’d love to improve

Warnings: swearing, 18+ Peter Parker, SMUT!!!

When Peter and you decided to finally get an apartment together with the help of your families you were excited, possibly a little too excited. The two of you always had to plan when you guys could have sex since your dorm rooms weren’t the most ideal place. It especially became less ideal after Peter’s roommate caught you guys fully going at it on top of the covers, not your brightest moment. So to say you were ready to have sex without worrying about someone random barging in was an understatement.

The past week was very busy for Peter that his routine became unbearable for you, it was your first week alone together after all. Peter got home from lectures, worked on assignments, went to study groups, and then came home late at night too tired to do anything.

Watching him walk around in his grey sweatpants and tight t-shirt was absolutely unbearable for you. After he left to his study groups it was like clockwork trying to get yourself off using any and all methods to relieve some of the sexual frustration.

Tonight you decided that you were finally over trying to get off at imagining Peter do stuff to you that you needed to take things into your own hands.

You decided to wear Peter’s red t-shirt that he absolutely went crazy about whenever you wore it, it was like a seduction technique you had. You opted to wear black lace underwear underneath, again Peter’s favorite pair, and no bra. You knew that this was going to finally give you both the action you craved.

Peter’s face was illuminated by his laptop screen as he was typing away for an essay at the kitchen table and of course he was wearing those grey sweatpants that made you tighten your legs together.

You make your way into the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water, reaching for the glass on the third shelf.

It was of course to high so the shirt you were wearing lifted and revealed your underwear. The tapping on the keyboard went to a very slow pace at this change of events and you smirked to yourself, Peter was definitely looking.

After trying to grab the glass you sigh and turn to face Peter. Once you turn he instantly types away again, “Peter can you help me grab this cup please?”

He stops.

“Uh yeah sure,” he coughs and his hand taps lightly against the table before standing up and making his way towards you. He was hard and you could see it through his sweats. Your underwear was damp at the sight knowing you only got him hard with what you were wearing.

He grabs the glass and hands it to you, making direct eye contact and you notice the dark lust filled pupils.

“Thank you babe, sorry to interrupt you,” you pout and Peter’s eyes wander down your body.

He clears his throat again.

“Don’t worry about it. Anything for my girl,” he places a hand on your hip and drags you close giving you a kiss. You bite down on his bottom lip and he moans quietly, using one of his turn ons against him.

You poured yourself water and drank it at the counter watching him type away feeling your underwear getting more and more damp by the second. His concentration was killing you.

Setting the glass in the sink you sway over to Peter and standing behind him you wrap your arms around his chest. Peter turns his head to look at you and you place a peck on his lips. He looks back to the screen and types more. You begin leaving kisses along his jaw and his hands shake as they try to concentrate on typing. Once you got to his neck he slightly tilted it and you leave wet kisses, another moan escaping his lips. You stop.

“I’m not tired yet can I sit on your lap and watch you write until I get sleepy?” you innocently ask your boyfriend.

He hesitates, “Mhmmm.” Peter knew that if he tried to speak his voice would sound too needy. He knew that he hadn’t spent as much time with you as he had hoped. He knew that you were both sexually frustrated out of your minds. He knew that once you sat down on his lap that you guys would eventually get to rip your clothes off and have the sex you both desperatley needed.

You sit with your back facing Peter and try to find a comfortable position. Grinding your hips ever so slightly and feeling Peter’s hard on underneath you. You droop your left arm around Peter’s neck and watch him type away once again.

The veins on his hands were poking out, a sign that he was getting close to losing it.

That’s when you swing your legs to face him and run your fingers through his hair. His eyes close and you hear his breath tremble at your touch.

You slowly start to move your hips along his thigh and moan out at the friction. Peter shuts his laptop and pushes it further towards the center of the table. Your arms wrap around Peter’s neck as his head tilts back in pleasure.

His hands find your hips and help guide them to help your movements. They were extremely tight and you knew that you would have bruises in the morning.

Grazing his cock every once in awhile with your core Peter would let out the loudest groans you’ve heard.

Feeling the pit in your stomach that you have been wanting forever your movements become rapid and you are biting down on your lip.

You let go of the tightness and pant hastily soon feeling Peter release in his sweats as he sighs in content.

“Fuck we needed that,” Peter mumbles as he kisses you passionately.

You stare into his eyes and nod, “Hell yeah we did.”

“Now I don’t know about you but I could go for another round,” Peter pants and two of you rush to take off your clothes.

When you get off of Peter’s lap you notice the wet spot on his light grey sweats and feel yourself getting hot. Peter drops his sweats and you notice another hard on in his boxers.

You lift the red shirt and Peter stares at your bare breasts, your nipples hard from the cold air. You sit on the kitchen table and slowly pull down your black lace underwear while watching Peter pump himself in his hand.

Right as you pull the last bit of your underwear off your leg Peter latched his lips onto yours.

He kissed along your jaw down to your neck and landed on your breasts. He twirled one of your nipples in between his fingers while he sucked dark purple marks on your other breast.

You moan out and he places more kisses until he is face to face with your core.

Peter’s index finger slightly grazes your clit and you whimper, “Wet already?”

“Please Peter I-I need you,” you stammer as you feel Peter’s hot breath against your core. You felt your back arching off the table and you tried bucking your hips towards him.

“As you wish,” his hands pushed your hips down and his the tip of his tongue enters your core.

He licks rapidly and you were a moaning mess.

“God Peter just like that,” you say and your hands shoot down to his hair, tugging him closer.

Peter felt himself grow harder at how much you needed him and how he knew that only he could make you feel this way.

Your thighs wrap around Peter’s head as he continued to lick your clit wildly. Then he caught you by surprise by entering a finger.

“You look so pretty baby girl. So so pretty enjoying my tongue and finger,” Peter says before licking your clit again.

This was it. You started seeing stars.

“I bet you tried pleasing yourself but nothing compared to me huh?” Peter questioned as he entered one more finger and began moving faster.

“Oh god yes. N-Nothing c-compares to you. I needed you s-so bad,” you cry out as you feel your legs shake and the tightness in your stomach becomes unbearable.

“Now princess I want you to let go, let go all in my mouth. I want to taste you,” Peter latches his lips once more to your core and with a loud moan you release.

He slurps up all your juices and uses his fingers to clean the corner of his mouth, licking every bit.

He grazes his finger to your core and you wince. He brings it up to your mouth, “Suck.”

You oblige and suck his finger, tasting yourself.

Peter’s hand goes back down to his member and he pumps himself at the sight of you. Panting and sweaty all because of him.

He sits back down in the chair and continues to stroke his member, moaning quietly.

When you finally catch your breath you push yourself off the table and kneel on the floor in front of Peter’s cock.

Your hand replaces his own and Peter’s head falls back.

You let your tongue swirl the tip in your mouth and Peter whimpers.

Without warning you sink your mouth down all over Peter’s cock, “Fuck.”

Staring up at Peter his eyes are shut forcefully and his lips are slightly parted. You moan against Peter when you feel him hit the back of your throat and his hands grab a fistfull of your hair. He forces his eyes open and he looks at you staring back at him.

“God baby you’re d-doing so good. Do you like my cock? Did you miss me face fucking you?” At the last comment he bucks his hips upwards and you feel tears well in your eyes.

You felt another tightness in your stomach again. You were getting off for the third time and it was just because Peter was moaning because of you.

Peter’s cock twitched in your mouth and you were ready to taste him after such a long time.

Your head was yanked off of his member and you gasp, “Sorry love as much as I want to cum in your mouth I’d rather cum inside you…. You’re still on the pill right?” You nod and he smirks.

He helps you stand up and you hover over his erect member. You feel the tip enter your core slowly and you both let out sighs in pleasure. That’s when Peter grabs a hold of your hips and slams into you, bucking his hips.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you bounced on Peter’s cock. Your breasts bounce in front of Peter and he flicks his tongue against one of your nipples.

You moan out, “Shit I missed this.”

“Tell me about it. S-so many times I wanted to fuck your brains out when I g-got home,” Peter stammered and your hand fell to your clit moving back and forth rapidly.

Peter speeds up his thrusts and you were screaming his name, letting profanities fall out of your lips.

You feel Peter twitch inside you and the tightness in your stomach was almost about to be set free.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you say as you look into Peter’s eyes, resting your forehead against his.

“Fuck… I am too. C’mon baby cum for me,” Peter groans as he looks deeply into your eyes. You feel yourself clench around him and let your juices fall out. You pant and Peter chokes on his breath when he cums inside you. Both of your eyes were closed as try to catch your breath.

You kiss Peter and open your eyes. He smiles a sloppy grin at you as you push his hair away from his face. He leans your forehead down and presses a small kiss.

As you stand up off of Peter, your legs tremble as you walk to retrieve the red shirt that was thrown on the ground.

You throw the shirt back on and put your hair in a messy bun, “You are so beautiful.” You turn and see Peter smiling at you, now fully clothed.

Walking over to the fridge you grab 2 gatorades you had bought earlier that day. You hand Peter a blue one while you take the red one. You sit back on his lap and the two of you drink in silence.

“Well I’ll leave you to finish this essay,” you give him a kiss and head to your shared bedroom. You uncover the bed and lay peacefully with the lights off.

A few minutes later you hear shuffling in your room and the bed sinks next to you. Peter’s face was inches from yours and you look confused, “What about your essay?”

He chuckles, “Yeah about that… If you were paying attention to the screen I wasn’t writing anything. Just a bunch of random words.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his lips, “I love you.”

His thumb softly rubs against your cheek, “I love you too.”

[whumpsideblog]

Previous Parts

 @im-not-rare-im-rarr @constellationwhump​ @justwhumpitwhumpitgood​ @maybeawhumpblog​ @lumpofwhump​ @whumpity--whump--whump​ @inky-whump​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @ihaventwritteninsolong​

 ***

 He didn’t know what was going on, as the vampire sat him up, gently coaxing him to open his mouth. He could hardly think, just follow what he was told. When he brought his wrist to his mouth, urging him to drink from a deep gash, he couldn’t recoil in disgust, he simply did as he was told, too weak to even realize what he was doing. 

 Alastair’s blood didn’t have that metallic taste that Silas knew too well from constantly biting his tongue and biting his lip. It was like drinking something rotten, it was disgusting and he was surprised he didn’t throw up immediately. In fact, he was surprised that he felt better. His vision was clearing again, he could sit up on his own, he could actually think.

 He could realize that he was drinking a vampire’s blood. 

 He jerked away quickly, but deep down he knew it was too late. He could feel it spreading through him, a horrible burning pain that started in his stomach and spread to the rest of his body.

 “Now calm down love, there’s nothing you can do to stop this.” Alastair said when he saw the panic on his face. Silas quickly scrambled out of the bed, trying to put some distance between them, but as soon as he tried to stand he collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach. 

 “M-make it stop, please!” He cried, breathing frantically. The pain was unbearable, he felt like someone had stabbed a knife into his heart and twisted it. 

 “But darling, didn’t you ask me to save you? This is what you wanted right?”

 “I didn’t know! I didn’t think you would do this!” He screwed his eyes shut, praying the pain would pass.

 “Oh, how else would I be able to do it?” He’d gotten out of bed, kneeling beside Silas. “Just calm down and don’t fight it, it’ll only make it hurt more and you’ll never succeed.” He pulled him into his arms, and Silas collapsed against him. 

 “No no no no… this can’t be happening, please, I- I can’t-“

 “Shhh, it’s okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to comfort him. It wasn’t working. “Once it passes you’ll feel so much better.”

 He had no choice but to ride it out. He tried to get away from the vampire but as always Alastair was stronger than he was. His head was pounding, that moment of regained strength and clarity had long since passed. 

 “I don’t… I don’t want this…” He groaned. “This isn’t real- this is a nightmare, right? This isn’t happening, it can’t be happening…” He didn’t try to hold back his tears, he wished he’d just let himself die. This really was the worst possible scenario to him, and the pain was excruciating. He sobbed openly, hand clutching Alastair’s shirt, he didn’t care, it didn’t even matter anymore. He might as well have been dead, hell, technically he was, or, undead anyway. He didn’t care enough to think too hard about it. 

 Slowly but surely, the pain did pass. He no longer felt the need to vomit, the pain that gripped his heart slowly faded away. The pain was replaced by exhaustion, he could hardly keep his eyes open and barely move on his own. At least he was mostly aware this time.

 “Come on love, I’m sure you’re tired now.” Alastair slowly helped him up, helped him back into bed. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.” He smoothed his hair back, kissing his forehead before going to get into bed as well. 

 “I don’t think I want to wake up…” He murmured, covering his eyes with his arm. He never in his life thought he would wish for death, but it certainly sounded kinder than this.

 ***

  The first thing he realized when he woke up that evening was how hungry he was. He was still tired, but Alastair was already up and getting dressed and he knew he’d be forced out of bed sooner or later. He sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He’d had the worst nightmare, being almost killed, forced to become a vampire. It may have been a normal fear of his but he didn’t typically have dreams about it. 

 “How are you feeling, love?” Alastair asked, coming over and helping him out of bed.

 “Tired…” He murmured. He pulled away from him, he hated having to be helped to get dressed when he knew he was perfectly capable of it himself. “Hungry I guess.” He shrugged. He took his time getting dressed, before going to tie his messy hair back. He never really did feel like brushing it.

 “Come here, you look like a mess.” Alastair waved him over, having him sit down in front of a vanity table. As soon as he caught sight of his reflection, he screamed. “Oh calm down, I haven’t even touched you yet.” Alastair rolled his eyes, while Silas jumped to his feet.

 “No- no, that was a dream, it wasn’t real!” He was breathing heavily, already going into a full panic. 

 “What? Last night? I have a scar on my wrist that says otherwise.” He laughed. “Now come here, sit down.” He gently grabbed his arm but Silas jerked away from him.

 “Don’t fucking touch me!” He shouted. “Stay away from me!” He felt like he was going to throw up, it was supposed to just be a dream, a horrible nightmare. He couldn’t be a vampire, he just couldn’t. 

 “Silas,” He said gently, though he grabbed his arm more roughly this time, “Come sit down, you’re getting worked up. Remember, you asked me to do it.”

 “I- I didn’t… I didn’t know…” He allowed himself to be pulled back, forced to sit down. He stared at his reflection with wide eyes. He hated to see himself start to cry, but not as much as he hated the sight of bright red eyes and sharpened fangs. This wasn’t something he could hide, it wasn’t something he could forget about and certainly wasn’t something he could undo. Unless he could work up the courage to kill himself, he was going to have to live like this forever. 

 He furiously rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, while Alastair pulled the brush through his hair. He knew he’d have to face Dahlia, he’d have to tell her what happened. It would be impossible to hide this from anyone.

 “Why are you crying, love? If anything, this is an improvement.” He braided his hair back, while Silas had a hard time responding through his tears. “You’re stronger now, you’re immortal, doesn’t everyone long for immortality?” Silas shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look at himself. “Oh, and the best part of course,” The vampire set the brush aside, draping his arms around Silas’ shoulders and pulling him close, “You have no reason to ever try to leave me.”

 ***

  Typically if Alastair brought Silas to see her, it was because one of them did something wrong. She was confused when she was woken up though, Alastair dragging her out of the cage. She saw Silas on the other side of the room, but he quickly looked away, almost hiding his face from her. She had the feeling something was horribly wrong. Alastair left them alone, which was odd, but she hopped that maybe things would be okay. He stopped to say something to Silas she couldn’t hear, before leaving the room.

  “Silas…?” She yawned, slowly getting to her feet. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She didn’t have to see his face to know something was wrong, she always knew. 

 “I… I made a mistake…” He started. “I, I tried to kill him last night, and I failed, and it… it’s bad…”

 “What? You look okay… Silas, look at me. What did he do?” She asked. 

 “I… I don’t want to tell you.” His voice cracked. She approached him slowly, cautiously. She had an awful feeling about this. 

  “Silas…” She said softly. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?” She raised her hand, resting it on his arm. “Look at me, please?” He hesitated a moment, before finally, reluctantly looking at her. She expected a lot, maybe a bloody wound, a missing eye, a horrible gash, something like that. What she didn’t expect though was ruby red eyes in place of bright blue ones.

 She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t hide her reaction, gasping and taking a step back from him. He turned his head away again, but she’d already seen his eyes, seen fangs, all the evidence needed to know what happened.

 “I- I didn’t want this to happen, he almost killed me, and I, I was scared, I couldn’t think, when he o-offered to save me I just said yes b-because I couldn’t think, I just didn’t want to die-” He was rambling, he was going to start panicking if she didn’t calm him down. Despite her own rising panic, she forced herself to stay calm, for his sake. She’d have time to freak out later. 

  “Hey, hey, i-it’s okay…” She said softly. “Here, come sit down, okay?” She led him over to a couch in the sitting area of the large room, having him sit down and sitting down next to him. She kept a hand over his, looking up at him. “Tell me what happened, please?”

  “I… I tried to kill him… but he woke up, and he bit me hard, he’d never done it like this before… and I was dying, I know for a fact that I was going to die and when he offered to save me I just said yes because I was so scared of dying I didn’t even think about what he would do…” He wouldn’t look at her as he spoke, his voice shaking. Her heart hurt watching him, more vulnerable than ever. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t want this to happen…”

 “Silas… please, don’t apologize… you didn’t mean for this to happen, I should’ve been there to help you, I shouldn’t have asked you to do it alone.” She squeezed his hand. “I promised we’d finish this together, I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry…” 

 “H-huh?” He looked at her, almost looking surprised. “No, no Dahlia, this isn’t your fault, please don’t blame yourself.” He insisted. She shook her head, blinking away tears.

 “I just… I can’t believe this happened to you… I wish I could’ve stopped it…” She quickly wiped at her eyes. “You’ll be okay, I know it, but… I’m sorry… I’m sorry he did this to you…”

 “I… I don’t think I’ll be okay.” He sighed. “I mean… I’m a fucking vampire now. I can’t, I can’t change this, I can’t fix this, if I want it to go away then I’ll have to kill myself and I just… I can’t, I don’t want to die!” He was beginning to panic again, running his hands through his hair anxiously. “How could I possibly be okay after this?!”

 “Well… you’re you. You’re very strong, Silas, you’ve always been okay, and I don’t think this will end you.” She assured him. “And… I’m here with you. I’ll always be with you, not matter what he did, no matter what you are, you’re still the same to me.” She tried to smile at him, holding her arms open for a hug. “Come here, please?” He started to lean in without hesitation, but suddenly stopped, pulling away.

 “It’s… not a good idea…” He frowned, moving away from her.

 “What? Why not?” She frowned, reaching for his hand again. He just pulled away though. 

 “I’m… hungry. I’m really, really hungry, that’s why he brought me in here, and I can’t do that to you…” He moved away from her slightly. “I can’t be like that, I can’t be like them, I don’t want to be…” She hesitated for a moment, she certainly didn’t want to have to do this, but if it was what Silas needed then she was willing to go through with it.

  “Silas… I know you won’t hurt me. If you don’t want to hurt anyone else, then you should do this now, before it gets worse…” She offered her wrist to him, watching him expectantly. “It’s okay, really.” She insisted. He looked to her wrist, only hesitating a moment before suddenly grabbing her arm, sinking his fangs into her wrist. She winced, biting down on her lip so as not to make too much noise. She didn’t want him to feel worse for this. 

 He seemed to relax as he did this, which made her feel better at least. It had been a long time since anyone had done this to her, in fact she’d hoped it would never happen again. She cared about Silas though, a lot, and if things got worse then he’d actually hurt someone, and neither of them wanted that. She knew one thing for sure though, as she watched the once human man she’d known for so long feed off her. She was going to make Alastair pay for what he’d done.

[maxe-mini]

Pretty Blue Eyes

A/N- Hey there! So this is my first ever full written fanfic, atleast one I’m going to post on tumblr. I had a lot of fun writing this, in fact, I finished it in a d a y sjgjsdb so yeah. This is gonna be an OC x Bakugou oneshot(?) Im not sure if its a oneshot bc I might make a follow up in thhe future, it depends. Anywayyyy, yeah! If you want details on who my OC is, her name is Kano Amaya(Last name, first name). I’ve posted plenty of art I’ve made of her on this blog, which can be found on my pinned post, which also happens to have the link to her wiki on Amino. Give it a read if you’d like! Now onto the fanfic! :DD 

Taglist: @deephasoceanmagic​ @kuroshin15​

Warning: Lots of cursing(I mean it has Bakugou in it), small mentions of blood and nosebleeds, overworking, passing out 

A/N- dw this is actually just soft and ‘angry pomeranian is angry bc he has feelings lmaoooo’

This wasn’t the first time it’s happened, but that didn’t mean it pissed him off any less. For the sixth time these past few days, his eyes had managed to wander right back to her. Dark blue hair tied into two low pig tails that seemed to always flow through the air just the right way as she moved. Cold yet mystical blue eyes that he could constantly feel himself drowning in. Fair skin dusted with soft freckles that he craved to touch. F u c k. He was absolutely smitten by this girl and he did not like it one bit. Those goddamn pretty blue pupils suddenly met his, and he stared back-even that was a competition to him now-forcing a scowl on his face. The girl merely raised an eyebrow before returning back to quietly eating her food, the chatter around her seeming to be uninteresting.

Bakugou scoffed, finally returning his own crimson eyes to his curry, practically stabbing a piece of meat with his fork as if it had personally wronged him, earning a few concerned glances from his- he did NOT want to call them friends- classmates. Only the sound of utensils clattering with plates could be heard around their table, which surprisingly only served to piss off the ash-blonde haired boy even more. “What?” He spat out, looking up to see Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari staring at him, their eyes practically answering his question.

“You doing alright man? You seem… more angry than usual.” Kirishima was the first one to speak up, his small eyebrows furrowing up in worry. “Did Kano do something?” Sero followed. Turns out that was a big mistake. Just hearing her name sent a jolt of electricity through his spine, and for a second he thought Kaminari had a death wish.

Bakugou growled. “That’s none of your fucking business.” He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream, he didn’t even let a single small explosion go off on his palm like he usually did as a threat. The ash-blonde boy only returned to his food, and it seemed his words were enough to stop any more questions from his peers. Good. Atleast they knew what was good for them.

 It hadn’t always been like this.

Bakugou stared at the ground, the angriest, most frustrated frown anyone had ever seen on his face. His classmates stared at him in concern, knowing exactly why he was so full of rage, yet none of them knew how to help. He’s always been difficult to deal with. None of them wanted to risk trying to comfort him, knowing that would possibly make him even more upset.

He was silent, his hands shoved into his pockets and his posture slouched. He had failed the Provisional Licensing Exams, and he was feeling no less than pissed about it. He knew it was because of his ‘harsh language’  towards the victims- if you could even call them that, they were all actors after all. Just thinking about it made him grit his teeth in frustration.

Before he could mope around even more, a delicate, dainty hand suddenly wrapped around his arm and forced him away from his thoughts as they pulled him to the back of the bus. People were apparently still collecting their things and everyone had time to chat with each other before having to eventually get back to school- not that he himself was interested in doing that. His frown faded away to surprise before he noticed who it was. Kano. 

The scowl edged itself back onto Bakugou’s face as he stared at her, yet for some reason, he didn’t move. He let her bring himself here, and for some god forsaken reason, he wanted to hear what she had to say. 

Those blue eyes pierced through his soul, as if analyzing every bit and piece of who he was. It took a fair amount of his will power not to back away, only staring back, hoping his gaze was as intense as hers. 

“Bakugou.” Her voice was firm. It always was, whenever she talked, which was a rare occasion. The boy in question didn’t answer, only raising his eyebrow in response. 

“I know you’re upset about the Licensing Exam.” She continued, her expression unchanging, staring at him in stoic honesty, and he could not-for the life of him- pinpoint what she was feeling at the moment. 

“No shit. I don’t want your pity.” Bakugou spat back, his words laced with venom. If anything made him angry, it was pity from other people. He didn’t need anyone’s fucking help. He wasn’t weak. 

“I don’t pity you. In fact, I look up to you, and I whole heartedly believe that you will receive your Hero License after the training course with ease.” Kano wasn’t startled at all by his profanity. She only stared at him through those unreadable eyes which he always managed to get lost in. 

Bakugou’s own crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise. That wasn’t what he expected. He didn’t answer. He didn’t know HOW to answer. This was not something he expected from someone like her, especially when he considered her competition, along with Half and Half and Ponytail. 

“So stop moping around. You know you’re strong. You know you’ll be fine, so go kick some ass at that training course.” For the first time since he’d seen her in the entrance exam, she sweared. Not only that, the corners of her lips curled up into a soft, confident smile, her faintly freckled cheeks glowing an equally soft pink along with it. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her with any other expression except for the one she always wore, unchanging and unreadable. She had her hands to her hips and looked so uncharacteristically bold. 

Bakugou could only stare. He’s been doing that way too much now, but he had nothing to say. He didn’t expect ANY of this from Kano. The ash-blonde haired boy was thoroughly taken by surprise. 

'That smile looks nice on her.' 

The thought made him blink rapidly, startled by his own mind. What the fuck? What the fuck was he thinking about? 

After a few seconds of silence, possibly as Kano patiently waited for his response, he formulated a reply. 

“You’re goddamn right I will.” He grinned. The same confident grin that brought terror onto those who were up against him. 

Seeing him back to his normal state seemed to have made Kano much more glad, as her smile only widened. F u c k. That smile could kill people. Bakugou barely managed to hold back incoming heat that was threatening to expose itself on his face, and he hoped to god that the girl in question couldn’t hear his rapid heartbeat. 

Before any of the two could say something, a voice pulled both of them right out of their thoughts. “Hey, where’s Kano and Bakugou?” It was Shitty Hair. Of course it would be Shitty Hair. 

The ash-blonde haired boy walked away, not waiting for whatever Kano was going to say next, assuming she had any. The glimmer of wild confidence had intensified in his eyes, and he was feeling pumped up. He would never admit it, but what she said helped. 

The ride back home was a blur after that. Thoughts of the upcoming training course flashed through his mind, interrupted by a few images of Kano’s smile. It irritated him to the core.

Bakugou grimaced at the memory, knowing that that was the start of when he started thinking of Kano as more than just a rival, and let himself scream a battle cry as he released a massive explosion onto an equally massive boulder, resulting in it having a big gaping hole in the middle, the little bits and pieces of rubble all but strewn about behind it. 

The ash-blonde haired boy huffed. Class 1-A had been given time to train in Gym Gamma, and he’d been releasing all his frustrations on these rocks. It was working atleast, but now he was tired and his wrists has a dull ache in them. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been destroying these stones, but he assumed it must’ve been a little over an hour. A few of his classmates had already gone back to the dorms, presumably to rest. He scoffed at the thought. 

One of the students who hadn’t gone back though, was one of the sources of his frustrations. Kano was currently heaving up an ungodly amount of water, her expression visibly strained, yet it was still stoic. It reminded him of Half-and-Half in a way, but he shook away the thought before he angered himself even more.

He jumped off the concrete platforms to get himself a bottle of water, panting as he noticed he was a little out of breathe. His crimson eyes followed her dark blue figure as her wrists flicked the other way and the liquid which she was floating in the air instantly formed into large icicles. Bakugou’s vision narrowed. 'She’s gotten faster at doing that.' 

A part of him was threatened and annoyed at her rapid improvement, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride for his classmate. He shoved the thought away, continuing to watch her movements closely. Her back was to him, so he didn’t notice the blood that was flowing down her nose. 

Kano threw her torso forward, following her arms, causing the large icicles to pierce through the boulder infront of her, the force of her control and the amount of ice she had enough to absolutely decimate the huge rock. As soon as the icicles went through, they melted back into water, and the girl immediately put the liquid right back into its containers which were from god knows where- Bakugou assumed it had been provided to her earlier before they all started training. 

Suddenly, Kano’s knees buckled, and soon she was on the ground. The ash-blonde boy blinked in shock, not quite registering what had happened yet before his legs led him right to her. Her eyes were closed, and he saw the blood that was coming from her nose slowly pool down onto the concrete. Once again, for the first time, Bakugou saw her with different expression on her face. She was in pain. 

Before he could think about what he was doing, he wrapped his toned arms around her body, carrying her bridal style. She didn’t move or resist, and Bakugou concluded she had passed out. What the fuck happened? One moment she was destroying rocks left and right, her strength shining through even when she was just training, the next she was unconscious and experiencing a nosebleed? Did the dumbass overwork herself?

 Aizawa had been watching from a distance, his tired eyes twitching in irritation. He had heard about how Kano’s bad habit of overtaxing herself in her training, but he didn’t expect her to do it now, not in UA of all places. The teacher pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out an annoyed sigh, walking over to his students- he’d have to talk to her about this later- before he noticed the Bakugou had already gotten to her. Huh. That’s unusual. 

“Bakugou. Bring Kano to Recovery Girl. That’s enough for the day for all of you. It’s getting late.” He instructed, his hands in his pockets as he looked around at the few others who were still training. His voice was loud enough to hear for the ones nearby, and the ones from afar seemed to get the message as they saw their peers suddenly stop what they were doing. Good. They’d gotten better at listening. 

He expected his ill-tempered student to put up atleast a little bit of a fight. Tell him it wasn’t his responsibility if his dumbass classmate worked themselves past the point of consciousness, but he got none of that. Bakugou merely nodded- although the teacher caught that his mouth was stretched into a thin line and his eyebrows were formed into a near v-shape- and ran to the front door. 

Aizawa was a bit surprised, although he didn’t let it show on his face. It seemed this problem child had changed much more than he thought he had. 

Bakugou’s arms were stiff against Kano’s body, effortlessly carrying her to the infirmary, which was a good distance away. He should never have decided to carry her when he saw she passed out. If he hadn’t, Aizawa wouldn’t have told him to bring her to Recovery Girl.

He was thoroughly annoyed, his teeth grating against each other as he forced himself not to pop a few small explosions on his palms, not wanting to harm his classmate accidentally.

The ash-blonde boy wasn’t angry because he had to bring his classmate to the infirmary. No. He was angry because of the goddamn heat in his cheeks that just won’t go away. He was angry because of the annoying ass beating in his heart that was pumping at a rate that couldn’t be explained by adrenaline. It was far too fast for that. Bakugou bit back a growl caused by his own frustrations, afraid he’d wake up the girl that was unconscious in his arms. Turns out he didn’t have to do that.

“…Bakugou?” That wasn’t firm. This was, again, the first time he’s heard her voice sound so… vulnerable. The ash-blonde boy met his gaze with hers, and he saw that her eyes were cloudy. Unfocused.

“Yeah, it’s me. You passed out while you were training.” He wasn’t sure why he was answering. The words just left his mouth on their own.

“Mm.” She only hummed in response, nuzzling her face onto his chest. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly now. Bakugou felt his heart beating at higher speeds than he’d ever thought possible, and he was sure she’d definitely heard it by now. Yet, she didn’t say anything, and he presumed she must’ve passed out again.

After a few minutes more of running, they arrived at Recovery Girl’s. Bakugou let himself catch his breath before he opened the door with his knee, and he was met by the old nurse’s startled gaze.

“Oh dear. What happened?” Recovery Girl shuffled over to them, wordlessly gesturing towards a hospital bed for Bakugou to lay Kano on.

“She passed out while training. Aizawa told me to bring her here.” He watched as his school nurse got to work, checking her temperature and observing her complexion. Now that he could look at her properly, she was a lot paler. What the fuck had this dumbass doing?

A soft whimper pulled him away from his thoughts, and he watched as the girl in question slowly fluttered her eyes open, looking around in a haze. Her hand instantly went to her head, and she groaned in pain. A headache?

Recovery Girl looked worried, but only silently reached for a few pills and a glass of water. “Here, drink this. It should help with the headache for a while.” He was right.

Kano didn’t say anything more, only drinking her medicine. The pain in her expression dulled, and she looked a lot more relaxed. Bakugou wasn’t sure if it was that obvious, or if he’d been observing her long enough to notice these things. He hoped the latter was wrong. That would be extremely embarrassing, maybe even creepy, on his part.

A few beats of silence passed through the mostly empty infirmary, and was only interrupted by the soft tap of glass against wood as Kano set down her glass of water on the small table next to her bed.

“I’ll have you rest here for a while. I apologize for this, but I can’t trust you to go back to the dorms yet, not after what Aizawa told me.” Recovery Girl spoke first, her tone edging on strict. “What?” Her voice wasn’t firm again, and Bakugou felt his chest constrict at its softness. What was wrong with him?

“You’ve had multiple records of passing out from overworking from your previous schools. Kano, I know you want to be the best hero you can be, but this type of behaviour will not be tolerated in UA. You have to let yourself rest every once in a while. Everyone has their own limits, and you need to know yours.” The nurse scolded, which was met by visible surprise on the girl’s face, before she nodded slowly. “I understand.” Kano answered, her pitch soft, yet somehow strong. She was back.

“Good. Now rest, or do I have to tell Bakugou to hold you like earlier so you can do that?” Recovery Girl teased, her tone once again upbeat. Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly as he almost choked, shoving back down the heat that was threatening to expose itself on his cheeks. He did not miss the way Kano did the same, except she wasn’t as successful at hiding her blush, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

The nurse only chuckled before she went back to her desk, beginning to work on whatever documents were on there. “I’ll tell you when you can leave. You can go to sleep if you want.”

A few beats of silence, then their eyes met. The clarity finally returned back to Kano’s pretty blue pupils as she gazed at him, seeming to be searching for words to say. Bakugou silently stepped closer to the bed, waiting.

“Thank you. I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to bring me here, but it’s a welcome surprise nonetheless.” She finally said, and the ash-blonde boy was left to analyze what she meant by 'welcome surprise.’

“You better be grateful. Why’d your dumbass pass out anyway? You can’t be that weak.” Bakugou responded, and he internally winced at how harsh his words sounded, but he couldn’t help it. Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind, nodding solemnly in response. “It seems I went a bit overboard there again. Recovery Girl was right about me having records for constantly overworking. Sometimes I can’t help it.”

Bakugou grimaced. “Well, that’s stupid.” He didn’t miss Kano’s sigh before he continued. “You don’t even need to do that. You’re already strong regardless.” That caught her by surprise, her head turning to look at him so fast he was afraid her headache would come back. “What? Didn’t expect that either?”

Her eyes were wide. “No. I didn’t but-” That smile. That fucking smile again. “Thank you, again. I appreciate it.” Bakugou wasn’t sure if her cheeks were flushed because she was flustered, or if it just came with her smile. Either way, he liked it.

“You better.” The ash-blonde haired boy let his own soft smile form on his lips, and the two gazed at each other in comfortable silence.

Maybe he won’t be that angry about this after all.