#like ill start asking is my question good?? has it been answered before??? whats an interesting question to ask???

[fingertipsmp3]

Living in a small town is conceptually bad on basically most if not all levels, but they went off with the communal village cat who lives in the church garden and can be visited at pretty much any time

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[luvs4matt]

—𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭

a matthew sturniolo blurb

“such a dirty little slut” a slap landing on your ass from the palm of matts hand as he pounds into from behind “o- only for y- you, oh fuck!” changing his angle, his chest is now touching your back with his arm wrapped around your neck, making him go deeper than he already was

it was so much, too much, you tried running but he pulled you back with the arm he had wrapped around your throat “don’t run from me baby, be a good girl and take it all” he always knew what to say when in bed “oh my god! oh my god!” you scream out as he starts going faster and harder

“you feel good baby?” he says teasing you, he knew you did based on how hard you were clenching around him, your mouth hanging open, eyes shut, all of the pretty whimpers and moans leaving your mouth, it showed everything “y- mmm, y- yes, fuck!”

he chuckles as he watches you falling apart under him, he starts to nibble in your sweet spot right under your ear lobe causing you to let out a whimper, “you like that?” he whispers in your ear, going back to marking you “i fucking love it” moaning loudly

you could hear every groan and whimper he let out right in your ear and it only increased your pleasure “squeezing around me so tight, you gonna cum f’me gorgeous?” you couldn’t even talk anymore, when you only let out a broken moan

he lands a harsh slap on your ass “words babygirl” he quickened his pace, you don’t know how he could go any faster but he did “y- yes!” “good girl” he reaches his hand between your body rubbing small fast circles on your clit “oh my god! m’gonna cum! please, please let me cum!”

“please who?” the things he could do (and did) to you was euphoric, always felt so good, he knew your body inside and out “please daddy! m’so close” somehow managing to speak while experiencing a ungodly amount of pleasure

“there you go baby, go on, cum all over daddys cock” his words sent you over the edge, you let out a scream, your orgasm being the best one you’ve ever had, the speed of his hips never faltered or slowing overstimulating you

“t- too much!” you cry “i’m sure this tight little pussy can take it, don’t you think?” drastically slowing his speed to make sure you feel every inch, every vein, every thrust, and you did feel everything

“y- yes, please daddy! f- f- faster” he goes faster and deeper than before, you didn’t think it was possible but he did it “good girl” he has a tight grip on your ass pulling you to match his thrusts, he takes his hand off of your right cheek using it to push your head into the pillows, giving a bigger arch

“aw, are you gonna cum again angel” speaking with faux sympathy, you respond with a whine

“so pathetic, its been less than 5 minutes and you’re already cumming again? fucking slut” a hard slap landed on your cheek making you moan “you like when i hit you? hm?” he grabs a hold of your jaw squeezing your cheeks together making you turn your head around to look at him

“y- ohh my fuck!” he lets go of your jaw slapping you once again before grabbing it again “you’ve been being such a good girl for me, but if you don’t answer my question you’re not cumming again” the fucked out expression on your face spurred him on more “ill ask you again, do you like when i hit you? do you like when i treat you like the slut you are”

“yes! yes! i like when you treat me like a slut” you moan “that wasn’t so hard now was it” “go ahead princess, make this cock yours” after a few more thrusts your juices are squirting out between you both with a loud pornographic moan

“fuck baby, turn over” pulling out of your swollen hole, crawling on top of you until his dick is infront of your already open mouth slapping his dick against your tongue, every time you try to put him in your mouth he moves

growing inpatient you grab his dick and move it to your mouth taking in the tip “you want it?” “i want it” you say before putting him back in your mouth “you want it?” you huff taking him back out of your mouth “i said i want it” you try taking him back in your mouth but he pulls your head away with the grip he has on your hair

“say it louder” “i want your dick daddy” your previous begging wasn’t enough but it was now “yeah? then take it” you take his tip in your mouth starting slow attempting to tease him like he has been you but he pushes your head down to take all of him in your mouth gagging, but you loved it

“you gonna swallow it all baby” pulling your mouth off of him so you can respond “yes sir” “good girl” tears running down your face as his tip was hitting the very back of your throat, you ran your tongue on the under side of his cock

that sent him over the edge “fuck! there you go baby, doing so good f’me” his words mixed with his seed spilling in your mouth caused you to moan around him, slightly overstimulating him

he pulls out of your mouth “open” you complied, opening your mouth, and sticking your tongue out showing that you swallowed every drop of his cum “you listen so well baby” giving you a peck to your lips

he moves his head down between your legs spreading them open “i love cant, t- too sensitive” trying to pull back but his grip on your waist doesn’t let you “just gonna clean you up a bit okay?” placing light kisses on your inner thighs “o- okay”

you could feel the smirk on his face as he licks a stripe up your folds, lapping up all of your juices before pulling away he places a kiss on your clit making you arch your back

“cmon baby, lets go get you cleaned up”

© LUVS4MATT

dividers by @bunnysrph and @chrissvalentine

[nkjemisin]

Hello NK Jemisin! I'm a huge fan of yours, and I wanted to thank you for writing all of the books you've written, and doing all that you do. You're really awesome and you are doing important work! :) I had a long question, if you have time to answer! What's your commentary on creating fantasy cultures, using real ones as inspiration? You've done this before in your stories, and I wanted to know if you had any guidance on doing it well. I'm writing my first novel right now (fantasy!) and am dealing with a surprising amount of guilt regarding using real cultures as a basis for my fake ones. On one hand, I want to create a really unique fantasy world, not the bog-standard European stuff. It's not only more interesting to me, but I also admittedly want to use my story to help introduce people to concepts that might be helpful in the real world, help readers understand what these real people go through and perhaps inspire change. On the OTHER hand, I don't know if it's 'my place' to do so (I'm Black btw, but I'm not just writing about Black-coded fantasy characters). And I'm worried about representing people in a harmful way, even if it's by accident. I'm even hung up about names! Should I use names from real languages related to the cultures I'm inspired by, or should I just make them up to emphasize that, while yes these people are clearly inspired by real cultures, they are ultimately *their own* thing. I'm really conflicted on this and am hoping you can offer some feedback and/or commentary. Sorry for the long ask. Either way, have a great day and I look forward to whatever work you do next!

If I can rephrase what you're saying here, it sounds like you're concerned about cultural appropriation -- specifically, which cultures you get to "borrow from" and "remix," how much remixing you can do before you've done damage, how to depict people from cultural backgrounds other than your own, etc.

If that's what you're asking, then there are whole schools of thought on how to "appropriate appropriately." A lot of thinking on this has evolved in the past few years, for good and for ill; Own Voices, for example. (The short version: the Own Voices hashtag movement started as a grassroots attempt to get marginalized voices telling the stories of their own cultures, because there's been a nasty trend of only white/Western/Anglophone/etc. authors publishing books about those cultures. The problem? Some publishers and readers started acting as if marginalized writers weren't allowed to do anything but stories in their own cultures -- a restriction, instead of an inclusion/correction. Worse, publishers, etc started using it as a marketing shorthand, in ways that were just... not good. They made it weird, basically.) But I'm still fond of the approach that's in Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's centered on ethnicity/race, but a lot of its approach can be extrapolated to culture. There's too much good stuff in this book to summarize it easily, but you should read it instead of a summary anyway -- it's short.

I don't see the point of guilt, when it comes to something like this. Guilt is what you feel when you've done something wrong, and admiring another culture enough to want to tell a story featuring it isn't wrong. However, there are things you need to do -- research, conversations, considerations of power dynamics -- to reduce the harm you might end up doing by telling that story as an outsider. And note that no matter what you do, though, you might still end up doing harm. (Even people writing about their own culture can end up doing that.) If you fuck up, apologize, figure out what went wrong, and try to do better next time. That's really all you can do.

And then write whatever the hell you want. There's a persistent pressure on Black writers to only cover certain subjects, certain settings; nah. We get to have range, too. You've just got to put in the work to do it well.

Good luck.

[planetkiimchi]

send my love | l.jh

featuring: music producer!jihoon x musician!reader, secret relationship

word count: 936 words

summary — jihoon accidentally exposes your relationship with a slip of his tongue… in front of an entire school of students.

author’s note: had sm fun writing this and doing the bonus part <3 inspired by the songwriter that came to my school today!

Jihoon stands backstage, listening to the first few seconds of your song, “breaking down walls”, play. When it stops playing, the chorus of voices doesn’t stop, and he’s shocked to hear the students singing the lyrics to the song the two of you co-wrote together, their voices loud and clear in the multi-purpose hall.

He’d thought it would stop, but he swears only the first 3 seconds of the song were played, yet they sing all the way to the chorus before stopping.

Still in a daze, he barely notices when he’s signalled to go onstage, but he pulls himself together and does exactly that. He’s prepared a presentation for the students, to let them know a little bit more about songwriting and how he came to write songs, and a few tips he has for anyone who might be looking to become a songwriter.

He was invited to speak because your song was a top hit, and the lyrics were about breaking down the barriers of mental illnesses with the help of medication, proper treatment, good relationships and healthy coping strategies.

Mental health is something that he’s struggled with for a while. Every time he feels low, and his mental health is waning, he writes a song about it.

He writes about other things, but his favourites are probably the songs that he writes coming out of a slump caused by executive dysfunction, when he manages to get his life back on track again.

The school he’s visiting is holding activities for mental health week, and this presentation he’s giving is among the last few before they wrap up the week.

Of course, Jihoon mentions you in his presentation, because you’re the singer of “breaking down walls”, a song that the two of you wrote over a series of months, rarely exiting the studio except occasionally to get food. He probably calls you stunning a couple of times—he can’t remember, but he’s always found you the better looking between both of you anyway. You’re also more popular, so he apologises that you can’t be there because you’re busy preparing for your concert the day after.

He was nervous getting onstage to speak to such a large audience, and he can’t say he’s ever been gifted at public speaking, but he thinks he does an okay job. The crowd is relatively quiet, and he hopes the soft buzz is just the students excitedly talking about the content of his presentation.

When he’s finished delivering his points, one of the music teachers that he briefly met backstage comes onstage. Two students bring out two chairs for the two of them to sit, and the Q&A segment starts.

Jihoon feels that this is the part he was most nervous for. Before getting onstage, he wondered what he would say when asked about this song. It’s very close to his heart, and while he’s co-written a different song before, with a different friend, about mental health too, it wasn’t really the same. It’s hard to explain, but the you and his other friend have different styles, and he thinks “breaking down walls” holds a special place in his heart. It’s truly an irreplaceable song.

Because of how important “breaking down walls” is to him, Jihoon finds it difficult to articulate his emotions without feeling extremely overwhelmed, and he’s afraid tears may start flowing if he thinks too much about it.

However, his fears are eased when the teacher begins speaking. The teacher asks Jihoon simple questions like what’s his favourite song he’s written, and one of your songs that he finds criminally underrated.

These are easy to answer; he barely hesitates before launching into a full-blown explanation for his two choices, and he’s bolstered by the cheers of agreement from the students.

Jihoon gets really into it when asked about “breaking down walls”, managing to word his feelings without getting too emotional. After all that worrying, he’s impressed with himself when he manages to phrase it as “writing lyrics from the bottom of his heart, with all of his soul”, expressing his gratitude for all the support the two of you have received for this song.

As the teacher brings the Q&A segment to a close, the students burst into a round of applause. Jihoon thinks you might want to see how much admiration they have for you, so, taking out his phone, he says, “I’ll send Y/n my love—I mean, your love.”

He doesn’t blush, but his palms grow sweaty. He subtly wipes them on his lap before hitting the “record” button on his phone.

”Hey, Y/n. I hope you’re having a good time preparing for the concert. There are some people who’d like to say hi to you.” He smiles, thinking about how you’ll look receiving his message in the middle of rehearsals, hoping he can give you a boost in energy.

He turns the camera around to show the students, who—to their credit—cheer so loudly his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. When he turns it back to himself, Jihoon says, “That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the rehearsals!”

He stops recording, and turns to the students. “I’ll send it to them and let you know. Thank you so much for having me.”

He’s escorted away from the venue with a gift from the school, but all he can think of is the way he slipped up onstage. He still sends the video, but he receives a notification on X first.

Clicking it open, he finds something that makes his face turn pink. He’s glad he slipped up, after all.

—

Bonus (the tweet in question):

[howtofightwrite]

Most traditional boxing instructors will tell you that if the opponent is taller than you, has longer arms than you, or is heavier than you, you're fucked and you need to stay extremely aware and work really hard to compensate for all the advantage he has over you.

In a recent forensic survey, it was determined that most traditional boxing instructors who get into real world altercations die when they're shot in the head.

This is the problem with a lot of these kinds of arguments. No one practices traditional boxing. At least, no one does so publicly. How do I know this? Because traditionally boxers fought in the nude. Yeah, we're not seeing that, are we? Now, maybe they meant bare knuckle boxing, but really no one does that either, these days. Boxing without safety equipment is not a particularly good idea, for fairly obvious reasons.

The only reason the word, “traditional,” is in the ask is to lend their statement unearned credibility. It's an attempt to make their statement sound more authoritative, without offering any evidence to support the statement.

Who said that?

“Traditional people did.”

Okay, but, 'traditionally,' people cleaned shit off their ass with a stick. So, maybe appealing to Hellenic sports isn't the best gauge of how a fight will play out.

Also, I know I just said it, but, who are these authoritative sports guys? Because they're not named. We're simply told, “most,” of them agree. Which starts to sound a lot like “four out of five dentists agree.” Who are these instructors? What do they teach? Why are the currently in prison for indecent exposure? And how much did you pay them to get their uninformed opinion? Salient questions which may need to be answered, if the original question wasn't invalid on its face.

Why do I say it's invalid?

Because boxing isn't fighting.

Boxing is a sport.

Boxing has rules.

Kick your opponent in the groin, or shin, and you're punished.

Step on their foot, push them, and watch them tumble to the ground before you start stomping on them, and you'll be punished.

Throwing your opponent will be punished.

And of course, as mentioned at the top, pulling out a gun and expanding your opponent's mental horizons is extremely frowned upon.

These are all things that can happen in a real fight.

These are all things that do not benefit from increased height or reach.

There is one genuinely accurate statement. In a fight, you do need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Everything else is the product of someone who's been punched in the head repeatedly until the CTEs got them thinking that boxing is analogous to a real fight in any way. (And, statistically, will probably end their career sitting in a jail cell over an aggravated assault charge, because their emotional self-control was completely destroyed by those same head injuries.)

The rules that boxers need to follow are designed to (somewhat) protect the participants. It reduces the dangers of a boxer being killed in the ring. In an observation that I would hope to be self-evident, those rules don't exist in actual combat.

It's also amusing, because the original Asker had to go so far as to single out an ill-defined, “traditional” boxing, because no other martial art they checked gave them the soundbite they wanted.

And, of course, women box. Historically, you could say, “traditionally,” there were even boxing matches between men and women. It wasn't until the 1880s that women were excluded from competitive boxing in the UK. (I'm not sure of the exact date when women were banned from boxing in the US, though that prohibition lasted for less than a century, before the modern return of women to the sport.)

So, either these “traditional instructors” don't know the history of their own sport... which doesn't sound particularly “traditional” to me, or they're full of shit.

My advice to everyone would be, maybe, don't take the advice of a sports coach about how he's secretly an absolute badass in all the delusional fantasies he's cooked up about how he'd like to inflict violence on others because they wouldn't date him.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[drvscarlett]

Sweet Nothings (2)

Carlos Sainz x pageant queen!reader

Summary: All that they ever wanted was sweet nothings but everything changed like midnight rain.

Sweet Nothings: 1, 2, 3. 4

A/N: i indulged a lot with catriona so expect a lot of her faces. i like to build up things hehe.let me know your thoughts

YNjpeg posted a photo.

Liked by CarlosSainz55, LewisHamilton, and 543,456 others

YNjpeg thank you for the opportunity for the roundtable to discuss different issues faced by our society [link]

User4 the way she speaks says a lot about her character

User6 I dont need to see any other queen, Y/N is my Miss Universe 2024.

User7 i never knew Y/N is this knowledgeable

User9 right?? i mean before we all knew her as just Carlos' partner User10 is it bad for me to say that i think Carlos and Y/N break up is a good thing? User9 true bestie.

LewisHamilton Wonderful insights, thank you for using your voice!

YNjpeg honored to be appreciated by you Lew! LewisHamilton 👑☝️ User12 real recognize real!

User55 anyone notice that carlos is still liking?

User90 omg i just noticed that! User77 my divorced parents

F1News posted an article.

Carlos Sainz sits down talking about championships, end of contracts, and relationships.

The hottest topic in the paddock at the moment has been Carlos Sainz. He is the driver that has been to watch out for as he becomes the El Matador that crushes Red Bull's streak of victory. The soon to be ex-Ferrari driver thanks the team for building a good car and creating new strategy that allowed them to best Red Bull several times already.

It was no surprise that him and teammate, Charles Leclerc has been chasing Max down for the championship. When asked about how does he deal with the pressure, he mentioned that he kept himself grounded by a note tucked inside of his helmet. He said that the content of the notes cannot be discussed (as well as the writer of the note) but he is very grateful for it for keeping him in touch with reality. The Spaniard is currently sitting at the second place with only 2 points difference from the current champion.

"It has not yet been decided" this is what Carlos has to say regarding where he would sign next. Carlos assures everyone that there are offers but he is still weighing which will be a better option. His focus at the moment was not on the signing because as he states "if I'm a good driver then the offers will just keep coming." He wishes to focus on doing his best with his current team and reiterates that he has no ill feelings with the team.

Another hot topic that Carlos was asked about is regarding his love life. There were rumors about his split with long-time girlfriend and now running for Miss Universe, Y/N L/N. Carlos explained how he is very proud of Y/N and that he wishes all the best for her. He refused to answer questions detailing more about her since he explains that "focus on Y/N as a beauty queen and not because of her relationship. She deserves more than just being someone's girlfriend."

CarlosY/N4ever

CarlosY/N4ever me realizing that Miss Universe 2024 and the Las Vegas Grand Prix is happening together???!!!

User5 wdym together???

CarlosY/N4ever It will both happen in the 24th,the gp will go first at 2pm while the Miss Universe will start at 6pm. User5 OHMYGOD????

User7 So are we going to watch miss universe or f1???

User8 Im gonna watch both User9 rip to us with a different timezone

User10 i love how we can use Y/N's reactions for this

User11 girlie is a walking meme User13 walking meme but still elegant

User19 SO WILL THE GRID BE WATCHING????

User22 what is barbenheimer when we have this going on!!!

QueenYNUpdates just posted a reel

Well my gowns and my costumes have been carefully selected. Everything has a meaning. It is an homage for my country and of course to the best parts of myself. [Can we have any more insights about your evening gown] All I can say is that I want to make Filipinos proud and the color has a very personal meaning.

User10 Im excited to see her final look!

User12 agreeeee,her attention to details is everything!

User7 Our filipina queen! PERIODT!

User13 the color has a very personal meaning + that smile.. anyone wanted to bet with me that its ferrari red???

User15 I might cry if its really red User18 and its carlos' last year to ferrari as well User90 I just want to have a good time on this app

User55 Go fight for the crown!!!! Bring home the crown!!!

QueenYNUpdates posted a reel

[What can you say about your relationship with Carlos, everyone is curious about what happened] This is the only time, I'll talk about this. If you are looking for drama, there is no drama between the two of us. Carlos and I met when we were still young people and we grew up together. We matured as individuals..Its not a bad thing. I am extremely happy and proud of where he is right now. Were both chasing our dreams. What we are, what have been. Its all good. That's all that I have to say.

User5 This basically confirms it.

User6 we are really children of divorce

User7 CARLOS GET HER BACK, ITS NOT TOO LATE

User8 YEAH SHE IS NOT YET MISS UNIVERSE User9 BRO DON'T LET HER GO CarlosSainz55

User11 Its the miss universe curse. If the girl really wants the crown then they will undergo heartbreak

User14 why do we have to sacrifice someone?? User15 so miss universe is just like ferrari strategy? here we sacrifice a boyfriend, in ferrari we sacrifice leclerc User17 that comment got me gagged.

YNjpeg posted a photo

liked by CarlosSainz55, LandoNorris, and 876,525 others

YNjpeg I am ready to represent!!! Flying to Vegas!!!

Charles_Leclerc goodluck Miss Philippines!!

YNjpeg thank you charlieee

LandoNorris can't wait to see you take the crown

YNjpeg lando you believe in me too much LandoNorris I SAID take the crown!!! YNjpeg ON IT!

User5 im so happy that she is still being supported by the grid

User67 bring home the crown Y/N!

User8 Mark my words, she will come back with the crown!

User9 safe flight!!!

CarlosSainz55 just posted a photo.

CarlosSainz55 You always hated flying. You told me that there is a certain discomfort and uncertainty when you are a thousand feet from the ground. Right now, you are flying. I know it has a certain discomfort and uncertainty of what's to come but I believe you can find some joy in it.

You will always be the most beautiful in the universe.

User7 OMG????

User6 CARLOS I WAS UNFAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME

User8 bro really went to tell the whole world that he will be here no matter what

User15 were always talking about how Y/N is Carlos' biggest fan but Carlos is also Y/N's biggest fan

User17 ITS TOO ERALY TO CRY

CarlosSainz55 just deleted the post.

[whiteskullofroses]

Baldwin IV of Jerusalem x physician!reader

(Before any of you get mad this is about Baldwin from Kingdom of Heaven not the actual historical figure.)

🩷Imagine Baldwin receiving the medication for leprosy along with a new physician who has to see his face for the first time and makes him feel comfortable about it🩷

"Y/N Y/L/N, is that who you must be?" Sibylla questioned. You had just been preparing to leave for the Palace, in which you'd be treating the King when she rode up to you with her horse. Her confidence amazed you, after all she was quite beautiful.

"Yes, my lady." Looking up at her with a bit of a struggle, since it was a hot summer day, the Sun was high up in the sky causing your eyes to burn when gazing up at her.

"Good. Follow me." She ordered and waited a short while for you to straddle your horse as well. You named your horse Sihara. You felt the need to do so as she was always with you on your travels. You were blessed with the privilege of having a loyal horse, tying her to a tree to avoid losing her was unnecessary. She simply never left you.

After you two left, there was another 15 minutes before you'd arrive to the Palace because the city was heavily crowded. Neither of you spoke much, from time to time Sibylla would as you questions regarding your medical career. It was reasonable of course. Her brothers life, whom she loved regardless his illness, was now at your hands.

This put a great amount of pressure on you. If anything went wrong, the people would kill you. She and her fellow men and women of power would hunt you down no matter for how long you'd hide.

But what could go wrong? All you had to do was apply cream on his open wounds for about 3 months until they'd heal and you'd go on with your life.

~.................~

"This way." Sibylla pointed to a long corridor with two guards standing at each side. There was another hallway on the right before you'd finally arrive to your patient.

The walk was filled with anxiety. You could feel your stomach twisting inside out with every step you took. You've saved many many lives and have helped many many people to gain back their health but this time it felt like it was your first time in the medical field. Like it was your first time keeping one on this Earth.

Maybe it was because this was your first time treating royalty?

But when you reached the doorway and saw the king sitting with his back to you, all worries went away. In a weird way, you could feel his calming and peaceful energy from afar, telling you 'everything will be alright.'

You weren't sure how to announce your presence in the room, but thankfully the King heard you walking and was about to make that clear.

"Come forward." His voice loud and clear. The way he carried himself, as though he wasn't sick fascinated you and had you admire him deeply.

He turned around on his chair to have a look at you, as you bowed.

"No do not kneel." Surprised, you got back up and straightened your back. "I'm glad to meet (your father's name)'s daughter. He was a great friend of my father's"

Baldwin got up from his chair and started walking closer to you. "The Saracens say that this disease is God's vengeance against the vanity of our kingdom." He chuckled and added: "My guesses are you are to remedy this so-called curse casted upon me."

"Certainly, my lord." You gave an innocent half smile and nodded.

The king turned his head towards a table: "Come, sit."

As you walked closer you noticed there was displayed the popular game amongst men of power all over the world. Chess.

The two of you sat down, a servant served you wine and than the serious conversation began: "Y/N, I must ask this. How is the healing process going to affect my duties?"

"Not at all." You answered with much confidence. "All I have to do is apply the medicine on your wounds and areas that have in general been infected the most." Explaining to him as Baldwin leaned forward, signaling for you to go on: "This should last approximately 2 to 3 months."

You could sence that he was nervous. After all he was still so young and probably still insecure about his features, as much as someone with a disease that disfigures you can be.

"My lord, you can trust me. Worrying is out of the question here, after all I've been in the medical field all my life. I promise to you I won't let you down." Your words were full of pure determination to save him, they cut so deep into his heart in the best way possible he could just tear up.

~.................~

As you were mixing up the cream that was soon ready to be applied, the tension in the room was indescribable. Baldwin layed on the bed almost unmoving.

His upper body and legs were exposed. What you could see from the start was that his left arm was most infected, than any other body part.

Besides that he still had his mask on, which he would have to remove at some point to get the full healing process done.

The medicine was prepared. You put on your gloves and went to work.

"My lord, if you feel any discomfort during this, please warn me immediately." You stated.

He nodded and even though you couldn't see it because of the mask, the young man was blushing. So far all his personal physicians were males, and since he was sick he was never really touched by a woman in the slightest, besides his mother when he was younger, so of course he was flustered.

You applied the cream firstly on his left arm, being extra careful and waiting for any signs of nausea from the king. Sometimes treating people who have been infected with leprosy can be quite a pain since vomiting and dizziness are common side effects. Luckily the king was doing just fine and in silence you slowly applied the cream all over him. Except his face.

"My lord, may you now remove your mask please?" You smiled softly at him, really trying to get the young king to get comfortable around you since you'd be doing this for 3 months together.

"Is it necessary?" He hesitated. Feelings of shame and insecurity flooded his mind. He never let anyone see his full face, especially not a young woman whom he learned love to gossip around since his sister and her friends used to do it for as long back as he can remember. But this time it was different, and you wanted him to understand so badly: "I understand you may not feel comfortable doing so, but trust me I wish the best for you. To have this treatment the most affective it can be, I'll need to apply it on your face too." You explained as gently as you could.

After a moment, he did it. And he looked beautiful. His face was decorated with a pair of blue eyes and soft locks of golden hair. His face was of course infected, he didn't have a nose and there appeared to be a quite litteral hole in his right cheek but you didn't care. He was handsome no one could deny that.

So you smiled and commented: "My lord, I really can't comprehend why you were so afraid."

He looked up at you, who was now slowly smearing the medicine on his face.

"Is it really that hard to understand?" He sighed.

"My lord, you look just as handsome as any. Infected or not. You are someone young men should look up to. A true God's warrior."

He took a deep breath in, smelling the healing herbs on him.

When you turned around, he shed a tear.

THE END.

[mikalame]

Can she come, please

This is gonna be a bout little tom and TH going on their first tour and he's wanting you to come a long with the band ( young love relationship)

taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

"Please let her come sir i promise nothing bad will happen to her, please..." Tom childish voice bounces of the wall in the living room. His pleading feel on the deaf ears of his girlfriends dad.

It was currently 11:30 pm at night the tour bus was leaving in an hour Tom was already running late. He just wanted his lovely girlfriend to come along on on their first tour what was so bad about it.

"Boy, do you know how stupid you sound right now, do you really think that i would let my little girl go in a bus with people i dont know-" "but you know me! " Tom argues back

"Dont interrupt me, i may know you but i don't trust you little boy" The older man snaps at the young boy "____ calm down let Tom speak" ___ mum asks with a hushed voice the only person that on his side with letting her come along

"Please sir, this is a very big achievement and shes been there since the beginning pleas-" "dad whats going on, why are you yelling" a girls voice echos through the halls before a body pops out from the hallway.

Looking in the girl is very confused seeing her dad angry looking at her boyfriend and her mother trying to calm down her dad. "Go back to bed ___ this has nothing to do with you" The man says not using the same tone of voice as a couple seconds ago "well if my boyfriends involved i think i does, hi Tom" The girl says kissing the boys cheek before sitting down.

"Wait aren't you supposed to be on tour right now" The girl questions "yes i am, and i was asking your dad if you could come along but he's not agreeing" Tom says frustrated rubbing his hand over his face "Oh you little-" "okay, you two go up to ___ room ill be there in a second i need to talk to your dad first" ___ mother says calm and collected, very over this discussion.

Before her dad could argue against it they bolt down the hall and close the door shut. They talk for a while saying things about how they would text and call whenever they can before Tom had a great idea.

"Why dont you just run away and come we could leave right now" Tom says chipper thinking is was one of the best ideas in the world "No Tom, thats a stupid idea my dad will kill you and then me for even going along with that plan" ___ whines back.

"My dad already doesn't like you why do you think that wold be a good idea" ___ pleads not wanting her boyfriend to not get even more hate then he already gets from her dad.

Just then her dad opens the door, Tom stands up ready to defend himself again. "Sit down down Tom, i dont trust, like or even want you in my house right now, ...but my daughter seems to really like you a lot so i suppose you can go" The kids start cheering only for it to be cut off "BUT, i need you to answer my questions okay" The boy nods dreads to short to tie up yet bouncing with his head.

"Will there be adult supervision?" the man questions "yes every bosy but from us will be adults" the boy very happy that she is able to come along.

"No alcohol, drugs or anything of the sorts on the bus" The man says eyebrow lifting, eyes squiting looking for any detail that could say that the boy was lying to him. "Nope sir, the only people what would have alcohol would be the adults, they wont give anything to us dont worry" they young boy adds trying to better his chances at getting her dad to like him.

The older man huffs "fine but i want you to know Tom im not fully agreeing to this, ___ mum is the only reason why ___ coming with you dont think i like you right now" "i understand sir" Tom nods

"___ pack your things you need to leave in like an hour, hurry up" the man says nonchalantly over his shoulder.

Time skip

"Thank you so much mum and dad i love you see you in a couple weeks" The young girls says the excitement bubbling in her voice " Thank you ma'am and sir promise shes in good hands" The boy says "yeah she better be" the man huffs "you two be safe and careful, wish you good luck to you and your band Tom" ___ mother says with a warm smile on her face " Thank you, hope we do good aswell" the pair wave as they close the door behind them.

"He called me Tom not boy, Ahhh i think im warming up to him" the girl giggles at what the young boy says walking to the tour bus hand in hand.

Hope yall like, sorry i havent done TH in a while most of my request are Manzini its a bit hard to write for him tho but i try my best

[dmercer91]

in your arms i feel at peace | look after you, tz11

in which trevor is your shoulder to cry on

don't let those super fluffy pictures of z fool you, this is sad as fuck (and dialogue heavy)

when i first started this account i figured i'd be doing mostly nsfw and look at me!!! every character i write has mommy issues :)

also send in for this au pls and thank you ill give you a vital organ

"someone's in a good mood," trevor mumbled behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you made breakfast for the two of you. nobody else was awake yet, and it was nice to just have some quiet time with him.

in just a couple weeks you’d become great friends, and you found yourself glued to him or to a book all day every day

“my mom asked if i wanted to go shopping with her today, it’s been a while since we’ve done something like that,” you explained, not clocking the look of worry on trevor’s face

you were over the moon that your mom wanted to spend time with you, one on one. this was your chance to bond with her now that you were closer to being an adult

your chance to fix things and have her treat you as an individual

you figured your mom saw today the same, that she might change. maybe she wouldn’t undermine your issues, compare them to her own

maybe she’d offer you help rather than argue that she was worse off

maybe she’d buy you things you actually like rather than force you to dress like she wanted - professional and proper so that you would be taken more seriously

trevor could tell that you thought today would change some things, and he wasn’t quite sure what to think of it

he knew your relationship with your mom wasn’t great. he knew your relationship with your whole family was less than ideal, actually.

he was a little nervous to see where the day went, but for now? you were excited, and he loved that for you

that excitement didn’t last long

he had a feeling he’d be left picking up the broken pieces of your heart whenever you got back

the feeling was right

but, he didn’t think it’d be this bad.

you were yelling as you walked through the door, your mom poker faced and unimpressed, almost rolling her eyes as she told you to calm down

“would you quit being a brat? there are other people in this house!”

trevor watched from the bottom of the stairs as you paused, laughing to yourself

“right. other people. you know what, mom?” you left space for her to answer you despite the question being rhetorical, but she just crossed her arms

challenging you to say what it was that was on your mind

“i don’t want to be your daughter anymore. from here on out, i am a stranger to you, i am the other people you’re so worried about looking your best for” you smiled softly

your moms face fell from amused to confused, thinking you’d do what you normally did - cry, and then accept any offer to rekindle your relationship in hopes that this time, she’d be a mom to you.

“you’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and i was just a kid. i didn’t- i don’t deserve to be tangled in this stupid, one sided vendetta you have against me for just existing,” your tone was level, you weren’t yelling anymore

your mom scoffed, trying to hold up a cold exterior while facing the reality that she was losing the only person who’d do anything for her

the person who, at seven years old, helped her move out of your dads house after the divorce

the person who didn’t question that you were moving in with a man you’d never met before

the person who cleaned the whole house regularly so that she wouldn’t have to stress about it

the person who helped her with laundry because her boyfriend refused

the person who defended her when he was drunk

the person who let her cry on your shoulder when owen wanted to stay with your dad for some time

the person who didn’t do the same because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings

the person who offers to do anything and everything for her because you know she works a lot

the person who forgives quickly and tries to forget, cause that’s your mom and you believed she could be better

the person who shuts up when you’re feeling down because you don’t want to put more things on her

the person who drops anything you’re feeling cause when you bring it up, suddenly she feels worse than you about that same thing and she needs you to lean on

the person who after seventeen years, has finally given up

you’ve given up.

“don’t you think that’s a little dramatic, y/n?” you smiled with a shake of your head, a tear falling down your face

“that’s kinda the problem, isn’t it? if i was any less emotional you might have me checked for psychopathy.

my whole life you let owen walk all over me. demean me over and over, and of course i cried, i was eight years old.

every time i tried to say something you’d tell me i was too emotional, that he treated me like shit on the bottom of his shoe because it was easy and i reacted too much

that wasn’t the truth. you just didn’t want to deal with it. you were annoyed that i was crying.

regardless i believed you because you were meant to be my mother

the bullying never stopped but every single time i just walked away and suddenly i wasn’t emotional enough for you

i was uncomfortable in my own home and that meant i was rude and blunt and i needed to smile sometimes cause i seemed like a bitch

you made me into that and i think it’s time someone lets you know so you can get the fuck off your high horse, cause we all know you think you’re a great mother”

she clenched her jaw and opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off

“i’m not done.

news flash, buying me things at the mall just to soften the blow of you being a massive cunt doesn’t make you a good mother

putting a roof over my head and feeding me doesn’t make you a good mother, it just allows you to keep your kids.

so, again. you’re gonna start treating me like a stranger

because it’s not hard to see how insecure you are about how random people see you on the outside

you put up this mask of perfection for people who don’t even know you and never will, but you don’t give a single fuck how your own child sees you on the inside

i’m done being an extension of you to torment and compare yourself to, and i’m staying here wether you like it or not.

i’m here as a friend of quinn’s, now. as a friend of the family’s. this is not my family,”

the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop

“don’t be disrespectful, y/n. i do a lot for you. i bought you summer clothes today!” you bit the inside of your cheek, filing through you head to look for any memory of her that wasn’t tainted by it’s true purpose, and you couldn’t.

“you didn’t listen to a word i said, huh? figures,”

when you turned and the first thing you saw was trevor, looking at you from the staircase, every bit of yourself willed to not let the dam break until you were alone, with him.

you walked right into him, clinging onto him and pressing your face tight into his neck

he reciprocated the second you were near, taking you into his arms and squeezing you tight, cupping your head and rubbing your back

he helped you up the stairs and towards the door to his room, holding your hand until you got to his bed and he could pull you back into his arms, on his lap.

"what happened, sunshine?" he murmured, letting you comb your fingers through his hair to try and keep yourself calm

it didn't work all that well, tears already streaming down your face now that you were in the comfort of his room, alone where you felt you wouldn't be judged.

your reply was muffled by his shoulder, where you'd pressed your jaw to try and keep your cries quiet

"she wanted me to go back home."

trevor furrowed his eyebrows and traced patterns on your leg with his fingers, knowing you'd open up when you were ready.

you took a minute to calm your breathing, explaining everyhting.

that originally you wanted to spend the summer at home with your dad because you knew you'd be isolated here, that quinn had other friends and you couldn't steal him away from everyone for the whole offseason.

that you got put in your place before the drive down to michigan and told that ellen needed you there to help around the house and that you could just be helpful 'this one time'

that ellen hadn't made you touch a thing all summer, the only time you did a chore was when you made yourself and him a snack, so you knew your mom just wanted you here to be a servant

that when you met him, you were finally happy in michigan and you were actually looking forward to the summer and getting to know him, spending some more time with jack and luke now that you had someone in common

that today, the shopping trip was just a cover up, your mom spoiling you before telling you - not asking - that you were going back home to house sit until the offseason was over

that you were naive at first, that you thought your mom grew a heart and that she was giving you an out due to you wanting to stay back home weeks ago

that you quickly saw through that

that your mom told you that owen had been excited to meet the team usa guys, trevor especially, and that you were getting in the way of your brother having the offseason experience he wanted

that you were going to be miserable the whole summer, but now that you've found a happy place in michigan, you were told to go home and be miserable there instead

that she wanted you isolated all summer. that was her plan.

and after you let it all out to him, you just started sobbing, and you couldn't stop

trevor did his best to soothe you, mumbling sweet nothings and reassuring you that ellen wanted you at the lake house and that he knew she'd let you stay

"i don't know what i could've done to make her hate me so much," you croaked, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him closer

“you didn’t do anything, sunshine. there’s nothing in the world you could’ve done to deserve that, you were just a kid. n’ you’re an angel, you know? like heaven on earth, it’s not your fault,” he whispered, cradling the back of your head

you looked up into his eyes from your spot on his shoulder, eyes uncertain and still overflowing with tears

“i know you don’t believe me, it’s okay,” he slid his thumb back and forth along your hair, kissing you on the temple.

you adjusted your head to get closer to him, still keeping your eyes on his

sniffling slightly, you took his other hand and toyed with his fingers, gaze eventually falling there as your tears slowed and nose cleared up

“thank you, trev, that-“ he cut you off with a kiss, catching you a little off guard

still, you pulled away with a smile, holding his jaw with the hand you’d had gripping his shirt

“that’s really sweet.” you finished, fresh tears falling from your face

he moved to wipe them, brushing his thumb against your nose gently

“of course, my sunshine,”

you hugged him, using both arms to wrap around him and squeeze tight, him returning the favour

“i’m all yours for the rest of the day, hm? maybe we can sneak off on the boat? bring some snacks, blankets n’ your laptop for movies and make a day out of it,”

you nodded happily, becoming pliant in his arms with a dumb smile

“that sounds perfect, z,”

he went to kiss you again, but the door cracked open mid lean-in and you jumped apart like it was an affair

it was ellen, now grinning to herself at the sight in front of her

“i figured you’d be in here. can we talk?”

you blushed, nodding.

“yeah, auntie el, just-“

“i’ll go,” trevor cut you off, ruffling your hair and placing a kiss on your cheek

[bitethedevil]

The Virtue of Chastity (Chapter 2/2)

Tags: Corruption, Dark!Raphael, Dub-Con, Nun gets corrupted by devil-trope

TW: Dubious Consent, Depictions of Illness, Death, NSFW Content, Mention of Thoughts of Suicide

AO3 LINK

(Chapter 1)

Summary:

A cleric of Ilmater is mourning the loss of someone dear to her. Lucian, an earlier patient of hers who she loved dearly, had died from his illness, but not before revealing that he had sold his soul to a devil. Destroyed by the knowledge she cannot save him from his suffering in the afterlife, she runs into a strange man by the name Raphael. He says he can fix it all and bring her the soul of her dear Lucian.

He is also oddly fascinated by the fact that she has sworn a Vow of Chastity, and he seems to know an awful lot about her and her relationship with Lucian.

AN: He's such a fucking asshole.

She went back about a week later. Of course she did. Even if there were many unanswered questions, even if he was bluffing with his offer, she still needed to try. She could grant Lucian peace if he really did uphold his word. She had to try. Besides, Father Marcus was over the moon with how much gold Raphael had donated to the temple. She had no choice but to keep playing along.

When she arrived at the mansion, she was led to his chambers once again. This time he was laying in his bed when she entered. He was wearing a robe, and he was under the covers of the bed. He smiled when she entered.

“Chastity,” he greeted. “What a pleasant surprise to see you return so soon.”

There was something about his tone that suggested that he knew she would be back today, but she pushed it aside. She still felt somewhat embarrassed about crying her eyes out on his lap the last time, but she tried to remain professional. She put her bag of supplies on a chair and rummaged through it.

“I have more potions to bring you,” she said.

“Lovely,” he purred, watching her. “The last ones you made worked a charm.”

She pulled out the potions and placed them neatly on the desk. She took one of them and went to his bedside to hand it to him. He took it and placed it on his bedside table.

“I will save it for later,” he said with a smile. “I just took one this morning.”

She nodded and looked him over.

“How is the pain?” she asked.

“My legs are still aching,” he said. “Though because of you, it is now bearable. You have my sincerest thanks. How have you been?”

“Good,” she answered quickly and politely before changing the subject to the problem at hand. “Can I take a look?”

He smiled and gestured to his legs. She pulled the cover aside to reveal his bare leg under it. She adjusted his robe slightly. She was not sure he was wearing anything underneath it, and she was not exactly eager to find out. She went through the same procedure as last time, starting with feeling for anything odd in his lower calves and going from there.

“Do be careful with your back,” he said, looking at how she was hunched over the bed. “You can sit on the bed. I won’t bite.”

She glanced up at him before sitting down on the side of the bed. Just like last time she did not feel anything unusual. He was not swollen anywhere or had any knots. She moved up to his knees. She could see that he was watching her from the corner of her eye.

“I trust that my humble donations pleased Father Marcus?” Raphael said.

“Oh absolutely,” she said and smiled. “You have been a great help. We are very thankful, Raphael.”

He smiled, though it was not exactly a friendly smile.

“The feeling is mutual,” he purred. “You are very helpful and exceedingly kind to me. Are you this kind to everyone, I wonder?”

She moved her hands up to his thighs, careful with her touch. He groaned as she did.

“I try to serve the people who come to our temple the best I can,” she answered with a smile.

She moved to the leg furthest away from her.

“Your posture is atrocious, dear,” he said and patted the mattress. “Don’t be shy.”

She hesitated but again, she did not want to displease him. She crawled up on the bed and straddled his leg. She was careful not to actually sit on it, as she moved from his calf and up. When she got to his thigh, he suddenly pressed his leg up against her, making her lose her balance in an attempt to not cause him pain. She almost fell forward face first down onto his chest. He held her there as he groaned.

“A cramp,” he explained and groaned. “Apologies. It will pass in a moment.”

His leg was pressed up between hers and she immediately got flustered at the feeling. Though his face was contorted in pain, she could see a sense of satisfaction in those brown eyes of his. She had a slight suspicion, but now it was almost confirmed: he was faking it. She tried to move off him, but his grip around her only tightened.

“Oh dear, am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked and looked down to where his thigh was grinding up against her. “Here.”

He wrapped his hand around her thigh and moved it over the other leg as he pulled her to straddle his lap instead. She immediately knew what was going on and tried to pull herself away again.

“You are not sick,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to yank herself away from his iron grip. “Let me go!”

“Brava! It took you much longer to come to that conclusion than I expected,” he said with a smile and ground his hips up against her. “You are correct, of course. I am not sick. However, your friend is still very much dead and in my possession, so I would suggest that you keep up your end of the agreement if you want his soul.”

Her breath involuntarily hitched when he pressed himself up against her. She put all her strength in to get off him.

“I took a vow,” she hissed at him. “I won’t break that for you.”

“Oh, my sweet, perish the thought!” he said with a smile. “Call this a…trial of sorts. To test your devotion. You pious types seem to love those. I would never take you against your will, I am not a monster…Though you will be begging me to by the end of this. I don’t care if you win or lose, I will give you his soul regardless. You can agree or I can simply let you walk back to that temple of yours, while that boy you loved suffers in the Hells. What will it be?”

She stopped struggling. This was not fair. Raphael smiled.

“Good girl,” he said and flipped her over so that he was on top of her. “I will give you a gentle start. Have you ever been kissed before?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard.

“I thought so,” he purred and leaned down to press his lips against her.

Her body was already betraying her. She felt hot all over and her stomach was in knots at the gesture. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, tasting and exploring every corner of it. He hummed in satisfaction and bit her lip. He kissed his way over her cheek to her ear.

“Would you be a dear and untie my robe?” he whispered in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe and kissing his way down her neck.

Her hands were shaking but she did as he told her. His trail of kisses ended just above her chest. His hand moved to untie her robes, and she opened her mouth to protest. He silenced her with a finger to her lips.

“We are not breaking any of your little rules,” he said and kept working at opening her robe. “I simply want to have a look.”

He opened her robe and pushed the fabric to either side, so she laid exposed to him. Her chest laid bare, and she was only wearing panties underneath. He kissed his way down between her breasts and stopped at her lower belly before leaning over her again, so they were face to face. He pressed his hips against her.

“Beautiful,” he purred.

He nibbled at her neck as he slowly began grinding his cock against her clothed sex. Her whole body was tense, which seemed to amuse him. He smirked against her skin and pressed it harder against her.

“This must all be very foreign to you,” he said and took her hand. “It won’t hurt you, my sweet. Not unless you want it to.”

He led her hand to his cock. It was rock hard. He bent her fingers to grasp around it. She began praying in her mind to distance herself from this whole situation. Raphael’s other hand came up to grab her cheeks and force her to look at him.

“Do you feel how much I want you?” he asked with a groan as he used her hand to stroke himself with.

He let go of her hand and moved it to feel her through her panties. She gasped and grabbed his hand to stop. He did not move an inch.

“It hardly counts when a piece of fabric separates us, no?” he said and continued his teasing touch. “You are soaked, my dear. You want me too.”

She shook her head which only made him laugh. He kept running his fingers over her. It was the most delicious feeling she had ever felt. After a moment he shifted his position and positioned his cock up against her folds. He rubbed it up and down her slit over the soaked fabric of her panties, teasing her with the head of his cock. He teased her even more when he pressed it slightly against her entrance, making her shiver and moan.

“Do you want more?” he asked and pressed his cock hard against her clothed entrance, the head of it peeking inside.

She shook her head again, though the way she was moaning did not make it seem convincing.

“Come now,” he cooed. “No one will have to know. It will be our little secret, Chastity.”

The way he purred her name did things to her. The way he said it as if it was a joke and he knew exactly how much she wanted to break her vows in that moment. He slid the panties off her and rested his cock between her folds. The skin-to-skin contact almost made her see stars.

“I know you want to,” he purred and ground himself against her slowly, making her moan. Her mind went blank, and she found herself nodding. “Good girl.”

He sank into her slowly with a deep groan. It hurt at first, but soon it turned into absolute bliss. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing was wrong and that she would regret it for the rest of her life after, but somehow that only made it feel even better in the moment.

“Not…” she managed to plead in between moans. “Not inside, please…”

If she became pregnant, her life would be over. She would be excommunicated from the temple if that happened. Raphael smiled down at her as he fucked her with languid thrusts.

“Of course…” he purred in an almost mocking tone. “Wouldn’t want any unwanted surprises, would we?”

He bottomed out inside her and leaned down to kiss her. It was a greedy kiss, and his tongue slipped into her mouth once again to explore while he lazily thrusted into her. It felt like the Heavens. She was in pure bliss. Her eyes fluttered shut. He bit her bottom lip and trailed down to her throat.

“Speaking of surprises,” he purred against her skin. “I believe it is time that you and I were properly introduced, wouldn’t you say?”

His words confused her, but in her ecstasy, she barely cared about what he was saying. It wasn’t until she felt a flash of heat against her skin, followed by feeling all too full that her eyes shot open. Her blood ran cold when she saw the smirking cambion that was looking down at her. She grasped at the sheets and mattress, trying to pull herself away from him immediately.

He flipped her over with ease and pushed her face down into the mattress, capturing her arms and holding them behind her back as his now uncomfortably large length pushed into her again from behind. He groaned as he bottomed out. It was painful.

“Do you want to know what your dear Lucian wanted in exchange for his soul?” Raphael asked while he thrusted lazily into her. “He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Isn’t that sweet?”

He gave a particularly hard thrust, that almost pushed the air out of her. She wanted to scream and cry but she simply felt numb instead.

“Of course, that was difficult for me to achieve with such a stubborn and busy little thing like you,” Raphael said. “Though I do believe making his condition deadly did the trick, wouldn’t you say? And now, with your helpful collaboration, he will spend his afterlife with you as well. A love story for the ages…”

She felt his claws on her scalp before he yanked her head back and fucked her faster. He leaned over her and licked a stripe up her back before biting down into her shoulder. She whined in pain.

“Oh, if only he could see you now, Chastity,” he purred into her ear. “If only he knew that all it took for you to leave your principles, was a couple of honeyed words and a few promises. He might have still been here, if he did.”

He flipped her over again so she was laying on her back, so he could bask in the view of her tearful expression. He smiled down at her. He moved his hand to rub her clit as he kept thrusting into her. Her body was betraying her again and she felt the pain turning into pleasure, despite herself. She came soon after.

Raphael pulled out like he promised and came on her stomach. His seed was inhumanly hot when it hit her skin. In one last show of humiliation, he dipped two of his clawed fingers in the mess he had made on her and lifted them to her lips and pressed them inside.

He didn’t even have to say anything. He knew that she would not disobey him now that she had gotten so far, so she licked them clean. Sulphur, she realized at the taste. Sulphur had been that unidentifiable smell that first day she met him. She should have known much earlier.

He smiled widely at her before his fingers left her mouth. He moved off her and tied his robe again in the most casual manner, as if nothing had just happened between them. He sat on the side of the bed and then looked at her with those orange eyes of his.

“You have done so well, my sweet,” he said.

The soul coin appeared in the palm of his hand in a flash of fire after he snapped his fingers. He held it out to her, but when she reached out to take it, he snatched it away from her.

“How forgetful of me,” he said, and his smile widened. “There is, of course, one last thing. A mere trifle, really.”

He snapped his fingers and a contract, and a quill appeared, floating in the air. Her blood ran cold, and she looked from the contract to him.

“This was not what we agreed on,” she said in a shaky tone. “You didn’t say—”

“I said,” he interrupted with a raised finger. “That I would give you his soul in exchange for your obedience to me. I am now asking you to sign. It will be my final request from you. You did not honestly believe that all I wanted was to sleep with you?”

He burst into a mocking laughter as he looked at her expression.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he said with a cruel smile. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

He waved his hand, and the contract moved closer to her. She held back tears as she read it. She would give her soul for Lucian’s. Her eternal suffering for his peace. She had once vowed to remove suffering when she saw it. If she didn’t sign if would all have been for nothing, and she had already broken enough vows for a lifetime. She sobbed softly when she reached for the quill and signed.

The contract burst into flames and disappeared. Raphael reached out to gently dry the tears that were steadily falling down her cheeks, with an almost pitying expression. He placed the soul coin in her hands, and she looked down at it. She felt Lucian’s presence through it, and it was the only thing that soothed her in that moment.

“Cheer up, dear,” Raphael purred with a smile. “You might not go to Ilmater when you one day leave this plane, but you have served him better than any of his worshippers. Though you have broken one little vow, you have made the ultimate sacrifice to alleviate suffering. This way you will have served your god well and you will be free of his cruel demands once your time is up.”

She wiped her tears in her sleeve.

“Once I have your soul, you will never have to worry about foolish ideas such as these restrictions ever again,” he said in a gentle voice that belied his words. “You will be free to give into your desires…As long as they serve me, of course. If you are really good, I might even let Lucian join or watch when I’ll indulge in you, once you are mine.”

Her blood ran cold once again. She did not understand…

Raphael smiled.

“You didn’t think I would separate you two in death, did you?” he said. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love.”

She couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. No. That couldn’t be.

“No, I—” she said frantically. “The contract—”

“Oh, did I not mention?” he asked with a smile. “You own Lucian’s soul, and I own yours. When it comes to souls, the assets of the deceased go to the next in the hierarchy, which for you, is me. Infernal laws, you see. Unfortunately, as you are of infernal heritage, those laws apply to you too.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she screamed until it physically hurt her, and then she kept screaming. Never had she been so angry at herself. Never had she felt such hopelessness. Never had she wanted to end it all so badly. But there was nowhere to go or to escape to. All roads now led to Raphael. She was suffering and her god could no longer help her.

He was basking in her misery, eating it up as if it was the most delicious meal he had ever had. When she finally fell quiet, she felt like an empty shell of herself. She looked hopelessly down at the soul coin in her hands as she whimpered quietly.

Raphael snapped his fingers and returned to his human form. He got up from the bed and towered over her. She kept staring emptily at the coin. He chuckled lowly and adjusted her open robe, as if to mockingly protect her modesty.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Chastity.”

He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers.

[jangofettjamz]

Doctor Wednesday

Gentle!Wednesday x Selective!Mute!Male!Reader

Reposted from my Wattpad

Reader is on the Autism spectrum

FYI: I do have Autism

Summary: You're extremely ill and Wednesday has to put her medical skills into practice

Words: 1786

Wednesday POV

Y/N has been noticeably absent from first period. He's usually incredibly punctual so this was extremely unusual. I hadn't seen him at our usual place where we congregate either.

Botany class was next period, perhaps he would decide to show his face then. I can't help but feel the slightest bit worried at his disappearance, despite my cold and callous nature ,Y/N has my heart and I'd do anything to keep him safe.

The bell rang, indicating that next period has started. I left hastily, avoiding any conversations that Xavier would surely try to engage with me. Even now he can't see that I have no interest in him, or his pathetic excuses for art.

Enid was standing outside of class. Perhaps she's seen Y/N around. "Enid have you seen Y/N around anywhere? He didn't turn up at our usual meeting spot, and I'm sure you've noticed his absence from class." I ask the blonde werewolf.

"No I haven't unfortunately. It's weird though, I've never seen him miss class. Sorry roomie." I nod at her words and made my way into class.

"Alright everyone settle down" Miss Hacksaw, our new botany teacher said gently with a smile. She's a gentle woman, despite what her name would suggest. Certainly a better candidate for a teacher than Laurel Gates.

"Wednesday have you seen Y/N? He usually walks in with you" just as I was about to answer her question, the doors to the class shot open and revealed Y/N, hair untidy and uniform a mess.

Y/N was panting heavily, likely due to running to class like a bafoon. He began to sign "Sorry for being late Miss Hacksaw. It won't happen again I promise" he signs, but lets out a rough cough shortly afterwards.

"It's okay Y/N, take your seat." Y/N sat down next to me, not sparing a glance as he hung his head low, hiding his face. He was fiddling with his hands, a motion that was only present when he was under extreme stress or just generally uncomfortable.

He was shivering, unusual as the weather was quite warm today, and that's not even including the already warm room temperature. He was sweating from head to toe, droplets of sweat ran down his forehead like a waterfall. The ever persistent cough racked through his body.

I'd had enough, something was clearly wrong and I intended to find out what. "Y/N you don't look well" I say, not eliciting a response from him. "You're coughing up a lung, you need to go back to bed" I try hammering in the fact that he's unwell but it fell on deaf ears.

He looked at me and signed "I can't afford for my grades to drop, Wednesday. You of all people know the importance of good grades" He finished. True, my grades are indeed impeccable, but I care more for my boyfriends health than grades.

I felt his forehead and immediately felt the scornful temperature. "Darling you have a fever, you're not well. You need medical attention." Before he could protest, another round of violent coughs occured, catching the attention of the teacher.

Miss Hacksaw spoke up "Wednesday is Y/N feeling okay?" I look back down at him, his eyes pleading for me to help him.

"No he's not. I'm going to take him to the infirmary." She nodded at my words and I briskly took Y/N out of the room with me. I hold his shivering body close to mine as we walk in tandem with each other. "Don't worry mi amor, I know you hate the infirmary and I'm not taking you there. I'm taking you to my dorm and I'll take really good care of you I promise" he nodded at my reassuring words.

-

After a few minutes of tortured walking, we made it to my dorm room. I laid him on the bed so that I could tend to him properly. His whimpers of pain and discomfort did not bring me the usual sense satisfaction and joy they would do had they come from someone like Laurel or Xavier.

Now that Y/N was alone he began to talk. " Wens it hurts" He said, pain lacing his tone.

"Where does it hurt, sweet boy?" I ask, keeping my tone very gentle. I'd never speak to him rudely.

"My chest, my head, and stomach." He says while tears appear round his eyes. I nod at his words and go to grab my medical supplies from my wardrobe. I keep a black kit filled with medical equipment incase he ever got sick.

I grab my medical kit and race back to the bed hastily. "Shh shh shh, it's alright. I'm gonna help you now, sweetheart. Try and relax for me" I say and kiss his forehead to calm his nerves.

I take out my medical equipment (thermometer, stethoscope, blood pressure cuff) and lay them on the bedside table. "Thing go get an IV drip from the infirmary, he looks extremely dehydrated" Thing scurries off to get me an IV for Y/N.

"IV? No Wednesday, No needles! Please!" He started to cry, bordering on the verge of a meltdown. I wipe his tears away immediately. I hate seeing him cry, it breaks my heart.

"Shhhhh it's gonna be okay, my love. I'd never hurt you. I just wanna make you all better. I'll be really gentle I promise" I say squeezing his hand to offer reassurance. "Do you trust me?" He nodded and I gave a rare, gentle smile to reassure him. I'd only ever be gentle for him.

I grab the thermometer of the bedside table "Let's take your temperature, darling. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue" He did as instructed and I stuck the thermometer under his tongue. I rubbed his arm to comfort him, he was still shaking.

The thermometer beeped, indicating that it has calculated his body temperature. It didn't look good. "103.6 degrees. This is not ideal" He gulped at my words, his pale face now visibly more fearful.

"Let's check your heartbeat now, sweetheart" I grabbed the stethoscope and put it in my ears. "Let me warm up it for you. I don't want to frighten you, darling" I say while warming up the diaphragm of the stethoscope.

I lifted up his shirt and placed the stethoscope on his chest, the sound of his fast heartbeat alerted me of his heightened anxiety. "It's okay Y/N. Everything's gonna be okay. Take deep breaths for me, sweetheart. In and out"

I moved the stethoscope just under his ribs to get a hearing of his lungs.

His lungs sounded like sandpaper being scraped against bricks. They don't sound good. The raspy sound indicated some sort of respiratory infection affecting his breathing.

"Can you cough for me, sweet boy?" He nodded and coughed, the rattling in his lungs ever more apparent. "Good job. Another one?" He coughed more heavily this time. "You're doing so well, turn around for me so I can listen to the back of the lungs, darling" I say kissing his forehead.

He turns to his side, still laying down. I place the stethoscope on his back where the left lower lobe of his lung would be, drawing a circular pattern with my thumb just under where the stethoscope is placed to keep him calm. "Another deep breath, darling" he did as instructed, this was definitely sounding like the flu. I listened to his right lung "One more big breath, my love" he inhaled as best as he could and coughed while exhaling, my poor love.

"You're doing such a good job, sweetheart. I'm very proud of you. Now let's have a listen to your stomach. Okay?" He nods and lays onto his back again. I placed the stethoscope onto his stomach to listen for any abnormal stomach.

I'm hearing some irritated gastrointestinal sounds, consistent with the flu-like symptoms Y/N is exhibiting. My other hand rubbed his stomach to try and ease the pain he felt. "You've got some irritated stomach sounds going on my love, most likely caused by the flu. It would also explain your cough."

I take off my stethoscope and put it around my neck; like a doctor would. "Alright sweetheart, let's take your blood pressure. Stick your arm out for me" he did as ordered and I wrapped the cuff around his bicep. "Don't be nervous, darling. It'll be over quickly I promise."

I put my stethoscope back on and began pumping the cuff with air. "You're doing a really good job. It's nearly over my love." His blood pressure was 140/90; definitely elevated. I take off the cuff and put the stethoscope back around my neck. "Hmm your blood pressure is elevated too. Also consistent with the flu. We'll get you medicine soon, mi amor. Don't worry I won't leave your side" I kissed his temple for comfort.

The door opened revealing thing carrying an IV bag filled with a saline solution. This'll be vital in rehydrating Y/N as saline solutions contain potassium; a vital electrolyte. I grabbed the IV bag and hung it up on a coat rack next to the bedside.

Y/N saw the needle and went wide eyed, fear was practically palpable. He started to shake out of fear this time. "It'll be okay, mi amor. Give me your hand. I'll be really really gentle" I cooed softly.

He hesitated at first, but nodded in the end. "On three. One. Two. Three." I held his hand in place and inserted the needle into his vein, earning a whimper from Y/N while doing so. "Good boy, you did so well my love" I adjusted the drip and the saline began flowing into his blood stream.

"Good job, Y/N. You made me so proud. I know that wasn't easy for you, but you did so good for me." I smile softly and kiss his forehead longly and lovingly. "Would you like to cuddle for a bit, sweetheart?" He nodded and I got in bed beside him and put his head on my chest.

I softly stroke his hair, he snuggled further into my chest and yawned. "You can go to sleep if you want, mi amor. I'll be right here when you wake up" He nodded and closed his eyes. I rocked him gently in my arms, humming a soft tune my mother used to sing to me when I was a child. Not long afterwards snores were heard coming from him.

"Sweet dreams, mi amor" I kiss his forehead again. "I love you so much."

[jeanstapleton]

thinking abt how in 6x5 klinger might have legitimately been wondering if he were trans, like beyond headcanons/subtext, bc to be lgbt back then Was synonymous with mental illness, & all of his questions were in that vein. also thinking abt my tumblrina "comrades in arms but with klingcahy" idea & how they'd handle a kiss as one man who's gay & fully aware of it, & another man who's only just now realizing he might be different

instead of margaret & hawk demonstrating a new surgery technique its klinger & mulcahy making a supply run & all the other stuff happens except klinger is paralyzed by fear when the bombs fall, & mulcahy goes over to "unfreeze" it with an embrace. klinger, trying not to have a meltdown, tells him that if hes going to die hes at least happy hes with mulcahy

again, like margaret & hawk, they awkwardly realize theyre literally pressed up against one another, but then klinger rolls out of the way with him when he realizes the ceiling's about to fall on them, & oooooooops now klinger's on top of him & theyre face to face awawawawa

mulcahy does a killing eve & leans up for a tentative kiss, eyes open. he doesnt know what else to do & he likes klinger so much he might as well give in to impulse this one time if they're about to die

klinger expects to be angry, disgusted, but the first thing he feels before anything else is flattery. he doesn't even associate it with gayness bc priests give kisses for all sorts of occasions, so this must be a thanks or a blessing or something. then his stomach prickles, in a good way, & he doesnt know how to feel about that. but mulcahy's nose-to-nose with him, and his expression is wide-eyed & unreadable, & all klinger's impulse is telling him is "well if you liked it then try it again", and he kisses him back. its also partially to smother doubt. mulcahy closes his eyes that time, & klinger follows suit

after the episode cuts back, klinger is curled up in the same spot, having fallen asleep in mulcahy's arms, but when he wakes up, mulcahy, distraught, has moved away to huddle up in a corner. he tells klinger to stay away from him.

klinger feels insulted at first, but he knows theres more to it. he approaches, asking whats up. when he doesn't get an answer, he starts joking about the two of them surviving the bombing, when mulcahy interrupts, saying he shouldn't have kissed klinger, and that hes not supposed to "be like this".

he confesses he joined the priesthood to try & cure himself, figuring the only path towards happiness was to be like everyone else. he hates that he "forced himself" on klinger, and thinks himself disgusting.

klinger is heartbroken for him. mulcahy is the closest thing he has to a best friend in the camp, someone who's always been kind & understanding with his eccentricities, & that love is, in the moment, superceding whatever hangups he has about queerness. klinger reminds him that he kissed back, and that he doesn't feel his boundaries were infringed upon, since it was in the heat of the moment. he then straight up asks mulcahy if hes queer, & after a while mulcahy nods.

klinger sighs, & figures he was already halfway there with his crossdressing, so he has no qualms with it. in the back of his mind he still equates his attraction to women to having a foot in normalcy, but it clashes with the implication that mulcahy is not normal, & he loves him too much to degrade him like that. its something he silently struggles with for a while, even after the ordeal's over. all he knows is that mulcahy is important to him, & that he saved him with that hug, & that he loves him even more for that. he promises to keep his secret.

[silverynight]

A charming witch

Part I (of 3)

When he was a little kid, Izuku summoned a demon by accident; he's not sure how it happened and his mother never explained it in detail, but all he knows is that the demon looked like a kid too and that he tried to bite Izuku's neck.

Fortunately, he didn't, but it made Izuku chose a more peaceful path when it came to practicing sorcery and magic.

Now he practices green magic and he has a little store in the middle of the village where he sells potions for all kinds of trouble and illnesses. The good thing is that flowers and plants are a very safe way to do magic. No demons involved.

There are other types of witches who deal with dark magic and summon demons (or banish them) for all kinds of purposes.

Izuku is happy with his potions and herbs; he certainly doesn't need anything else.

But that doesn't mean that trouble doesn't find his way to his doorstep anyways.

***

Izuku has a friend named Uraraka, she's a witch too, but she deals with more powerful magic; however, sometimes she needs a couple of potions and that's how she ends up in Izuku's little shop most of the time when she finds herself in the village.

That particular day she walks in with a demon; the demon is all pink and keeps smiling and looking around in awe like a very curious child.

Izuku knows not all demons are dangerous or seek to eradicate human kind and yet he gets a little bit startled when he finally sees her.

"Sorry!" He blushes when the demon squeaks in delight; she's bonded to Uraraka by magic so she has to go wherever the witch goes, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"You were right," the demon grins at Uraraka, staring at Izuku with interest. "He's such a cutie."

Uraraka rolls her eyes, but looks mostly amused.

"This is Ashido Mina, the demon I summoned to assist me for a while. In exchange, she gets to see our world because for some reason she likes it."

"I do!" Ashido smiles, prompting Izuku to finally relax around her. "It's like being on vacation! And trust me it's better here at the moment because Blasty has been insufferable for the last few years... He's pining..."

"Blasty?" Izuku mumbles in confusion, not entirely sure he wants the answer to that question.

"My boss, the demon king," Ashido explains, like it's not a big deal.

Izuku nods and offers them both a cup of tea; the shop is quiet that day so he can spend time with his friend and her demon.

"I don't smell other demons on you," Ashido observes after a while.

"I don't summon demons," Izuku says calmly, a little bit amused by Ashido's surprised expression. It's fair since most of the witches have summoned one at least once in their lives.

His own mother did once and it ended up with her having a baby and being abandoned years later, which was not a good experience. But Izuku doesn't like to talk about that and he doesn't think any of them are interested in that.

"Why not?"

"His blood can only summon very powerful demons apparently," Uraraka says, surprising Izuku who looks at her in confusion. "Your mother explained it to me once. No matter the symbol he writes, his blood immediately summons another completely different."

Ashido puts a hand under her chin, like she's deep in thought; Izuku gets a little bit distracted by her horns and wonders if it'd be rude of him to get out his notebook and start taking notes about her.

"That's... interesting," she comments after a while. "Are you an omega?"

"A what?"

"Mina, I told you humans are not like that," Uraraka says, like she's had that conversation before. "We don't have a second gender."

"Like betas?"

"No... well, yes, just like them."

"What are you talking about?" The green haired witch asks, as curiosity and excitement make him forget about politeness.

"Demons have secondary genders," Uraraka tells him, chuckling when Izuku's eyes glimmering with curiosity and excitement. She's never seen another witch so hungry for knowledge.

"We can be alphas, omegas or betas," Ashido cuts in, happy to talk about her kind. "Alphas and omegas usually make good couples, but there are all kinds of them."

Izuku listens with undivided attention and finally makes his notebook appear because that's just so fascinating to miss.

"Wait," he cuts her off, immediately feeling terrible about interrupting, knowing he's probably blushing to the tip of his ears at the moment. "You mentioned something about bites earlier, what did you mean?"

"Instead of getting married, like humans do," Ashido says. "Demons mark their partners with a mating bite; it has to be done on the scent glands, which are on our necks."

The information unlocks a couple of memories in Izuku's brain that he didn't know he had up until now.

There's a blond demon with red horns and red eyes that looks like a kid and is telling Izuku that he needs to bite his neck immediately.

"The demon I summoned tried to bite my neck, that's why my mom got scared..."

"Was he a pup when that happened?" Ashido moves closer, eyes shining with excitement. "I mean the demon, was he a pup?"

"A pup?"

"She means a little kid."

"Oh. Yeah."

"A blond gremlin with piercing red eyes? Very bossy for his age?"

"Uhh... something like that," Izuku mumbles, having a very bad feeling about where the conversation is heading already.

"Are you Deku?" She says excitedly. "I can't believe I found the famous Deku!"

"My name is Midoriya Izuku actually," he corrects her, having the feeling that he has heard someone else call him that before.

"This is amazing!" Ashido squeaks in delight. "Blasty's ridiculous longing will finally come to an end! We need to summon him!"

"Blasty as in the king of the demons?" Uraraka quirks up a brow at her demon friend.

"Yes!"

"No," Uraraka and Izuku utter at the same time, shaking their heads. The pink demon starts pouting.

"Why not?"

"That's a very powerful demon, I won't be able to control him if he decides to do something," Uraraka replies, earning another pout from Ashido.

The demon even rolls her eyes at them.

"Alright, listen. I know he looks like a gremlin who's constantly angry at his own existence, but he'd never harm his Deku."

"My name is Izuku," he corrects her again. Suddenly, another one of his memories unlocks. "Are you talking about Kacchan?"

Both girls (the demon and the witch) stare at him like he just said something in another language.

"His name is Bakugo Katsuki, but I think I heard him mention something like that to Kiri... you used to call him that, right?"

"I..." Izuku starts feeling weird out of the sudden. He's dizzy. "I don't know."

He gets closer to the main cabinet behind the counter and takes one of the potions he makes for himself. Ashido grabs one of his arms to get his attention and Izuku gets a glimpse of a very tall and muscular blond demon sitting on a throne with a permanent scowl upon his face.

He doesn't have visions like his grandmother did, so it's weird for him to see things like that and it's even more puzzling and confusing when he gets the impression that the demon stares back at him for a brief moment.

"Deku?"

Instinctively, he shakes Ashido's hand away and takes a few steps back.

"Alright, that's enough," Uraraka takes the pink demon's hand to lead her towards the exit. "It's time to go."

"Wait! At least give him a chance!" Ashido pleads. "He won't hurt you, I promise!"

"It's a dangerous practice for someone who has never done that before, like me," Izuku explains, besides, he can't believe the demon king is the same as the little bossy demon who tried to bite him once. She must be mistaken.

He gives Uraraka the potions she had commissioned a couple of weeks ago and decides to close the shop early that day because he feels so very tired suddenly.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ashido."

"Same, cutie." She sighs, before waving at him. "Although I still believe you should summon him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

***

Next--->

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[captcoups]

[⛵️] if only you knew (maybe you already do) w/ svt_pt.1

✤ pairing: hyung!line x reader / idol!svt / non.idol!you / friends-to-lovers(ish) / lowkey mutual pining  ✤ disclaimer: curse words (none with ill intention!) / inspired by this prompt list! ✤ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 400 words per member / altogether: 2,028 words ✤ in which these are the little things you notice that he does (whether he wants you to or not...) [masterlist ⛵️] / other members are below the cut!

[🍒] seungcheol seungcheol is an absolute fool for trying to think that he would be able to mask the way his smile creeps onto his face the second you stepped into his arms. the warmth he feels rushing through his veins, straight to his cheeks when he feels you putting your arms around him to reciprocate the bear hug he engulfs you in, head pressed to the side of yours with a giddy grin. he has his fingers crossed, hoping that you don’t feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest; threatening to fly out. maybe you do notice it. maybe you don’t. maybe you’re just saving him from the embarrassment but regardless... he’s grateful (and not-so-grateful) when you pull back with a small smile on your face. maybe next time... he’ll be brave enough to admit his feelings for you in close proximity but today... today he’ll just–”you look good, y/n.” he’s wholeheartedly thankful that you’re not pressed chest-to-chest to him because his heart just flew out of his rib cage when you smile widely and point at–”right back at you, handsome.” seungcheol almost forgot to breathe.

[👼] jeonghan “hey,” jeonghan feels a nudge to his side with an elbow. he looks up from being seated on the sofa, nonchalantly scrolling on his phone and finds himself being attacked with the way your presence effortlessly tugs his lips upwards before he can control himself. it’s like he’s being lit up; suddenly feeling the surge of energy that makes him sit up a little as you flop onto the sofa next to him. hell, he won’t even question how he didn’t hear you come in. “hey,” he greets back, playfully bumping you with his shoulder in return. you sink into the sofa and partially lean against him, sneaking a peek at his instagram feed before you ask: “wanna hang out? there’s a new cafe down the block and–”you can barely finish your invitation when he–”sure!” the two of you are slightly surprised at his outburst of an answer but it doesn’t deter you too far from your excitement. you chuckle and lean away, so you can pat his shoulder with a smile, about to tell him to get ready to go but he–”i mean... yeah, it would be nice.” he tries to cover up, even if he failed miserably. with the way you’re beaming at him and egging him to let’s go, then! reassures him that maybe you don’t mind it at all. (you don’t, but that’s a conversation for another time)

[🐰] joshua the night had started out in good fun... when a bit of alcohol too much later grants you and joshua to be sprawled out by the living room with a few of the other guys scattered in the background. joshua doesn’t know how the topic of love came up but it did after another shot of soju is exchanged and the only thing keeping you two barricaded from each other is the coffee table. “you’ve... been a bit more affectionate lately, shua. maybe a bit too obvious, too.” your words mutter into the air, aiming straight for his chest as his cheeks continue to redden; not from the alcohol. “...what?” he tries to laugh it off, even though he knows it’s not looking too good on his side when you can tell he’s nervous past the alcohol swimming in your system. “really?” you raise a brow, sitting up a little as you hold yourself up with elbows on the table, squinting at him, “you drove two hours to get me when my car broke down.” joshua’s quiet for a moment before he tries to squeak out: “i’m a nice guy?” it does nothing to defend his case when you chuckle, folding your arms on the table as you shake your head, “two hours, shua.” he swallows, watching as you lean your head down to rest, eyes fluttering shut. “h-how long have you known?” the curiosity got the best of him and maybe he shouldn’t have asked but–he can see the way you’re smiling, giggling as you coo, “goodnight, shua.” joshua lowers his head with a smile etched to his face, goodnight, y/n.

[🐱] junhui jun finds himself being seated next to you or opposite you almost every single time the two of you are at the same outing. he wonders if it’s his natural gravitation to want to be close to you or of it’s some sort of fate tying you two together. there are times–moments–sparingly, fleeting in his conscious when you’re a bit too close that it makes him malfunction. jihoon and minghao already has a mental note of how jun seems a tiny bit more giggly whenever you’re around or how it brings him out of his shell to want to talk more to capture your attention. it’s hilarious to them, however, that they get front row seats of being seated opposite you and jun, who’s sharing a menu to see what you’d like to order. the slight motion of you looking to your side and jun looking up at the same time hitches the breath in jun’s throat as his eyes grow wide at the realisation to being in such close proximity to you. “oops, sorry,” your sheepish smile appears as you shift away. “no, no, don’t worry,” he chalks up quickly, already shifting back towards you and nudging the menu in your direction. with a chuckle, you nod and lean towards him, eyes scanning the page. (minghao slyly nudges the menu towards jun, only for the latter to motion it away so he can share one with you. jihoon shakes his head and laughs, accommodated by jun’s shy smile as he takes the opportunity to lean closer towards you.)

[🐯] soonyoung “w-what?” soonyoung’s voice is soft, a little shy but barely audible when the ruckus of their dressing room is always on heightened hype merely an hour before their stage performance. you chuckle and dip down a bit more, and soonyoung loves hates the way he’s able to see how your eyes are sparkling at him under the fluorescent lights. “i said you look incredible! love the hairstyle, too!” you watch as soonyoung digests your words. the mere appearance of hoshi has disappeared; the confident, self-proclaimed tiger has exited the building. leaving you with just kwon soonyoung (who you’ve come to adore just as much). “oh,” he nods in acknowledgement, “t-thanks. you too!” he doesn’t realise that you’re laughing when he’s focused on the way you’re smiling. it’s not until your laugh dies down that you motion to your own attire. it’s a simple hoodie with the strings chewed out and a pair of sweats. “i do? i thought i looked like a bum,” you have your hands on your hips, looking at down at your clothes that you miss the soft you still look pretty. when you look up to meet with his gaze once more, he’s awkwardly laughing to ease the tension and you take it as a cue to disturb the other guys. “i’ll see you later, okay? good luck out there!” he tries his best to reply, only managing a garbled up thanks! see you soon! he doesn’t realise since you left him to poke fun at chan’s hair that a pout has appeared on his face as he sinks deeper into the sofa. (”what did y/n say to you that made you all choked up?” seungkwan snort, joining soonyoung on the sofa. “they said i looked incredible, that they liked my hair...” seungkwan can’t even make fun of the guy when he starts to bend forward and bury his face in his hands, probably the embarrassment has hit him already with the way he reacted.)

[🍚] jihoon it was a camping trip with a couple of the boys and invited friends. it wasn’t a wonder that jihoon’s plus-one was you but what was a wonder was how you two had been seated by the lake, alone, for the past hour with no intentions of regrouping with the rest. the sun had just set and you found yourself being immersed in the conversation just as much as jihoon was. sharing a blanket, seated on a couple of flat stone surfaces. it wasn’t until the crack of a twig snatches your attention from jihoon that has him looking like a grumpy cat at–”picture time!” seokmin grins, holding his camera up, “augh, it took me so long to find you two. might as well go on a honeymoon, yeah?” from over your shoulder, seokmin catches jihoon’s expression and words of quit it! when you turn the cheek and meet his gaze, jihoon’s face softens and offers you a small smile, nodding when you ask him if he wants a picture. you scoot closer to him and jihoon lifts his arm up–does he put it around you? just a hand on your shoulder? can he lean his head against yours? how wide should he smile? too much and it might be obvious. too little and he looks like he might hate you and–abort, abort! jihoon tries not to malfunction when you casually lean into him, the side of your head pressed to his and a smile emerges. he doesn’t even process that you’re gone until a minute or two later, now seeing you and seokmin in front of him as you two go through the pictures and initial pictures. “he looks like a grumpy kitten! that’s so cute!” you exclaim, glancing at jihoon and back to seokmin’s camera. he tries to laugh it off when he sees how happy you look, but makes a mental note to have a nice, long chat with seokmin when everyone regroups later. seokmin counts his blessings and vows to stay by your side for his safety.

[🦊] wonwoo in wonwoo’s defense, he had no idea that it was blatantly obvious that he had been staring for the past ten minutes. all he knew was the music of the party was bumping to the max that he found himself secluded in a corner with a drink and his eyes naturally landed on you as you chatted with chan, a cup in your hands. the two of you were trying to outdo one another in weird dance moves–of course you were. at least wonwoo’s able to hold back his laughter when you do the robot and mockingly flick chan’s fringe in the process but apparently, it’s not enough to mask his poker face when–”you know, hyung,” mingyu clears his throat, using his head to point at the direction wonwoo’s been staring at for a while, “you can actually go there and talk to them.” when wonwoo processes the words coming out of mingyu’s mouth, he straightens his back and shakes his head, “n-nah, it’s fine. i’m good here.” mingyu smirks, squinting his eyes a little, “you hesitated. so you’ve thought about it.” wonwoo’s mouth opens to retort, but he finds that his eyes are widening when–”hey! there you are,” a familiar voice makes the shit-eating-grin on mingyu’s face grow wider when he processes who it is. “ah! y/n! a pleasant surprise!” mingyu chuckles when you lightly punch his shoulder, now diverting your attention to–”mr. jeon. would you be my partner?” wonwoo’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, breath stuck in his throat until you finish your sentence with: “in beer pong? chan said he wants two on two and i refuse to be grouped with that idiot.” not even the way chan yells from a distance i heard that! could steer wonwoo away from his stunned expression. he only reacts when you tell him it’s fine if he’s not up for it, and that you could pair up with mingyu–”n-no!” wonwoo stands, clearing his throat, “i’d love to.” at his surge of enthusiasm, you don’t hesitate to reach for his wrist and grin at him, “perfect! let’s kick chan’s ass!” (mingyu gives wonwoo a small wave when they meet eyes just before you drag him away and mingyu decides to be a spectator; front row seats to seeing how you effortlessly bring wonwoo to his knees with every little thing you do.)

[whoiwanttoday]

When I was younger I used to have to actually call in to work but the advent of voicemail in the office made my life a lot easier. I would wait until about 4 or 5 AM, call when I knew there would be no one to answer, put on my weakest voice and try to sound sick to make sure that no one could question that I was too unwell to come in to work. About 90% of the time I called in it was because of my depression, which early on was undiagnosed, then diagnosed and poorly managed, but I would fluctuate between being unable to sleep for days or being unable to do anything other than sleep. Either way, it gave me great anxiety that I would be caught because in those days you couldn't actually call in for depression, it wasn't a real illness, not like a cold, so I had to be vague while sounding like maybe I had a cold. Once we could start emailing in, a thing that existed but no one thought to do until we were able to easily access work email from home, it became that much easier. I still had the fear that they would think maybe I was out partying all night and just getting home and faking it but I didn't have very many other options so the emails still came in at 5 AM. It was one of life's many stupid ironies that I was in bed wanting to die and convinced no one thought of me but if they did they thought I was a pathetic loser but also they might think I was a lying party animal loser who was out living things up and skipping work because my life was too awesome.

Anyway, that's a long way of mentioning I am playing hooky today but my life is so much more privileged than it once was because I have been struggling with a pretty rough depressive episode for two weeks now and at the start of this week decided I couldn't do it anymore but if i gave myself a shred of hope maybe I could. So I am technically on vacation today, a thing younger me didn't get, actual leave for vacation, or really the ability to ask for, time off a few days in advance. My head being a mess still fucking sucks, it's not cheery to start singing in the shower and realize you've changed all the lyrics to be about wanting to die, though it is technically sort of funny, like the least marketable Weird Al anyone can imagine, but it's amazing how much easier it is if you have things like money and actual benefits. All of this is a long way of saying I have 10:30 AM tickets to see Longlegs, a thing I was supposed to see last week on Thursday but when the time came I canceled my tickets and took a credit because I was curled up in bed and could not make myself get out of it no matter how hard I tried. So I am posting Maika Monroe because she has long been dear to my horror addled heart due to the fact that she starred in what is one of my all time favorite horror movies, It Follows. She was also in the Guest which is frankly, pretty top notch as well but not on the all time greats list. I realize I am putting the cart before the horse a little bit here, given I haven't seen Longlegs yet but I both have faith and also the horse can absolutely go fuck himself. I am sick of worrying about the horse, who has, I might point out, done fuck and all for me. I haven't even used glue since like 3rd grade so the horse can just fucking rot for all I care. Anyway, when I first posted Maika Monroe she was still mainly coming up in tags on tumblr as a Surfer, which is kind of wild because I don't think that's how anyone thinks of her now. Either way, I enjoy her work, I think today will be good, today I want to fuck Maika Monroe.