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lordprettyflackotara · 1 month

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sharp fangs || sam golbach & colby brock

SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. sam & colby are vampires teehee🙈 TW: BLOOD. THEY DRINK YOUR BLOOD. AS VAMPS DO. threesome and there’s a plot😛umm you get chased in the beginning but that’s about it for triggers i think. enjoy!🥰

part two is here

It wasn’t unusual for you to leave your apartment late at night for a bite to eat. After all, living in such a compact town everything was in walking distance. Not many places were open past midnight, the only one being a popular little grocery store. It sold mostly munchie snacks, perfect for night owls like you.

It wasn’t unusual for you to eat your snack on the way home. The streets were vacant of any sign of human life, the most attention you got being from a stray cat behind a trash can. You took any bite of your twinkie, admiring how quiet everything was. The silence was a nice change, considering in a few hours the sound of honking cars and people would ruin it.

What was unusual, was the feeling you were being watched.

Typically you weren’t a paranoid person and you felt generally safe about your short travels to the grocery store. You did this regularly, twinkies and all. But as you continued your walk home you felt unsettled, as if you were being observed from a far. You finished your twinkie, tossing the wrapper in a random trashcan before continuing home.

You glanced at your watch, figuring the lack of sleep was just affecting your brain.

That was until you heard footsteps.

Your face went white, your ears trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. You forced your feet to keep walking forward, afraid of what would happen if you stopped. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the footsteps were coming from behind you.

Following you.

You quickly turned around, only to reveal that absolutely no one was there.

You blinked a few times, looking around. Were you really that paranoid?

Sighing, you decided to take a different route to your apartment, just in case you were being followed. If it were some loser or serial killer, no one would go down the southeast dark alleyway. Its appearance was intimating and scary enough you figured it would scare your stalker away.

Despite its scary appearance to strangers, you had been down it several times. Walking the city every day forced you to know a short cut or two. You turned the corner, going down a few steps before continuing your journey home.

Your heart began to pound as you heard rustling. You couldn’t quite understand it, what was it you were exactly hearing? It sounded like movement, you could solely feel the presence of someone else being there. Nervously you looked around, your surroundings being limited. You were behind two different restaurants to the left and right of you.

It couldn’t have been an employee, both restaurants closed hours ago.

“Hello?” You called out.

Maybe it was a homeless person who started residing here and you were intruding.

“So she speaks.”

You whirled around to find who the words belonged to, yours eyes landing on a tall, dark man. His dark brown hair almost covered his eyes, his eyes a deep crimson red. He was dressed in all black, his jacket being leather. His fingers were dressed in silver rings, a silver chain hanging from his neck. He was much taller than you, his height alone intimating. Not to mention his eyes.

“Was starting to think you didn’t have vocal cords princess,” He said, snickering to himself.

Your eyes quickly darted to the exit of the alley, your feet moving you towards it for you.

Before you could blink your body was slammed into the brick wall behind you, knocking the air out of your lungs. You struggled to breathe, your eyes blinking a few times before they could settle on the man in front of you. He pressed you flat against the wall, leaning towards your neck.

“Get off of me, fuck off,” You said boldly, trying to sound as intimating as possible. You shivered in terror as you felt him inhale, smelling you. With his arms planted on either side of you, you had no where to go, forced to stay still.

“You smell, so fucking good,” He complimented. He leaned back, admiring your face this time. The smell of your blood alone was nauseatingly delicious, but your scent of fear was arousing. “I wonder if Sam will let me break the rules this one time,” He murmured. You shook with fear as he stroked your face, admiring how warm your soft skin was. His fingers were freezing to the touch, despite it being early fall, he felt like he had been in a blizzard.

“Let me go, I won’t tell anyone, really-” You began babbling, listing excuses. The brunette grinned devilishly, as if he enjoyed hearing your pleas.

“Colby what the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes landed on a blonde man with similar crimson eyes who was standing on the roof, staring at the situation. You assumed this to be Sam, as you watched him jump from the roof to the ground with ease. It was easily a twenty foot jump, your mouth forming the shape of an O as he strode over to the both of you.

Sam looked a lot like Colby in terms of unusually pale skin and crimson eyes, additionally him being dressed in the same edgy biker clothing. His face was stern as he focused on Colby, his eyes not even glancing at you once. “Cmon dude, have you fucking smelled her?” Colby asked. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at him, holding you in the same trapped position.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood as they began arguing, their voices sharp as knives. “Of course I can smell her, the wind doesn’t make my nostrils dull dude,” Sam argued. Colby grabbed your arm, hastily pulling you in front of Sam. The blonde was taller than you as well, both of them towering over you as they talked like you weren’t there.

“I don’t think you smelled her correctly the first time, do it again,” Colby growled. His growl was genuine, one that had emerged from the back of his throat. It was animalistic, your mouth running dry at the sound. These weren’t just weird cosplaying serial killers, they were something else. Something not human.

“It doesn’t matter what she smells like we have fucking morals. We don’t kill any mortals. You know the risk of what happens if we try to drink from them,” Sam debated. He still hadn’t glanced at you, acting as if you weren’t even there. Colby rolled his eyes. “Morals are great but when’s the last time you seriously smelled anything like her? Seriously, here,” Colby argued further. He pushed you into Sam’s chest, his body as hard as a rock.

For the first time Sam looked down at you, studying you intently. He could see the fear swirling in your eyes, your teeth practically clattering in terror. Sam didn’t want to admit it, but you did smell ridiculously good. Nothing like they had smelled in the past few hundred years. “I can see it on your face, you want her just as bad as I do. We can share,” Colby offered. You felt frozen, neither of them physically constricting you but your body still planted in place.

Every fiber in you was screaming to run, Sam’s unusual crimson eyes not helping console any of your horror.

“No dude, that’s final,” Sam said finally. He pushed you towards the exit of the alleyway. “Get out of here, don’t come back,” He ordered. As you began to quickly walk away, you felt a large hand grip your arm. “You may not want her but I do, and i’ll have her,” Colby snarled. You gasped as you tried to pull away desperately, his hands locked around your arm. Before you could process it Sam was standing between you, removing Colby’s hand from you.

“I said no, get a fucking grip,” Sam growled.

You began slowly backing away, watching as Colby pushed Sam. His shove resulted in Sam flying into one of the many brick walls, the bricks crumbling around him as he stood up. Before Colby could reach you Sam was on him, grabbing his arm and pinning it behind his back. He tripped him, both of them landing on the ground. You stood terrified as Colby was pinned down, baring what looked like a set of fangs as he desperately tried to reach you.

“Did you not hear me? Get out of here!”

Sam’s voice snapped you out of your hypnotic state, your feet carrying you as far away from the alley as they possibly could.

You couldn’t get the image of Colby’s fangs out of your head. Both of them were scary and ominous, sure. But the look of pure hunger, pure desperation, haunted you. Nightmares ensued nights after you had escaped the duo, your mind plagued with fearful thoughts. You couldn’t explain what you saw, the idea of someone being thrown into a brick wall and breaking the wall being impossible.

It had distracted you from your job and college work, you even stopped leaving the house. You were scared you’d run into them again, somehow someway. Sam didn’t seem too terrible, but you knew he was the same monster Colby was.

Your sleep schedule was backwards at this point, your mind afraid to allow you to relax as soon as the sun went down. You felt like you were going insane, your mind finally allowing you to sleep once it became dawn. You had become a recluse, one who avoided anyone who tried to talk to you.

It was right before midnight as you lounged in your living room, mindlessly channel surfing. During the night you longed to cure your never ending boredom, your paranoid mind insisting on you being wide awake.

Knock knock.

You jumped at the sudden sound, your body shifting uncomfortably as you forced yourself to sit up. You scrambled to your living room side table, digging through the drawer for any weapon of self defense. You found an old can of pepper spray from when you were regularly dating. Awkwardly you shook it, putting it up to your ear to hear if there was anything even in there. Was it expired? Maybe.

It wasn’t like you to avoid your problems, and you most certainly were not going to start now. Deciding that if it was expired it would only make it worse for your victim, you stood up. Tip toeing over to your apartment door you peaked through the peep hole, attempting to see who your visitor was. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the hallway was empty.

Gripping the pepper spray you opened the front door, Sam and Colby standing at your doorstep. Your mind took a couple of seconds to process their presence, Sam awkwardly waving. You raised the can of pepper spray.

“Wait wait wait we’re here to apologize-”

Aiming at Colby’s face you pulled the trigger, a stream of red liquid shooting out of the can. You used all that was in the can, throwing it at his face before promptly shutting the door. Your fingers shook as you locked the door, pressing your body weight against it so they wouldn’t break the door down. You swallowed hard as you looked through the peep hole again, not seeing either of them.

You sighed in relief, hoping they just went away.

You had showed them just who they were messing with. Even if you were only human.

Making your way back to your couch, you plopped back down on the cushion, searching for a decent show to watch. Maybe your brain would finally let you get some decent rest now that-

Tap tap.

Your eyes slowly shifted over to your living room window, your dark curtains restricting your view from the outside world.

There was no way-

Surely they couldn’t-

You boldly yanked the curtains open, revealing Sam. You stared blankly at him as he hung from your window. Your apartment was on the sixth floor, the blonde hanging onto the ledge of your window. Colby didn’t seem to be in sight, Sam awkwardly waving to get your attention. Slowly you pried open the window, glaring at Sam.

“What the fuck do you want?” You spat. Sam climbed up a little further, propping himself up with his arms on the concrete window ledge. “We came here to apologize, Colby specifically,” He said calmly. It was as if he was trying to trace his words carefully, like he was walking on eggshells. “And why would I want to hear an apology from either of you? Just go away!” You argued.

“I thought you said humans like apologies?” Colby called from the outside of your front door. Sam rolled his eyes, sighing. “They do dude just give me a second!” Sam yelled back. Your mind felt like it was spinning, trying to process the supernatural being hanging out of your window. Sam’s gaze returned back to you, his crimson eyes borderline hypnotic. “Not to be invasive but we know you haven’t been sleeping and are on the verge of losing your job. We didn’t intend to fuck up your entire life. If you give me permission to come in I can explain,” Sam said. Your eyebrows raised at his words. Were they actually stalking you?

You tilted your head to the side. “You need my permission to come in? As if you can’t break my window or door down?” You questioned. Was he really giving you bullshit formalities? Sam sighed. “It’s just sort of how it works for us. We can’t enter anyone’s home unless they give us permission,” Sam explained. Noticing your doubtful facial expression he added, “You can of course just start with me.”

As much as it pained you to admit to yourself, you wanted answers before you wanted them to go away. “Fine, but only you can come in. Not Colby,” You agreed. Sam slid into your apartment with ease, visibly stretching his legs as he stood up fully. “Oh cmon!” Colby groaned from the hallway. His displeasure made you giggle, even if the situation didn’t call for it.

“Firstly I just want to say the pepper spray attack was hilarious, thanks for the good laugh,” Sam complimented. Defensively you walked into your kitchen, your kitchen island keeping you at a safe distance away. You raised your eyebrows, signaling Sam to get on with it. He cleared his throat, his eyes solely focused on you.

“We are, very obviously, vampires,” Sam began. He was waiting for you to freak out. To scream or cry or something. Instead you stood freakishly still, your arms crossed as you waited for him to continue. “We usually don’t drink from humans, we steal blood bags from the blood bank down the street or at the hospital,” He continued. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Great so you steal blood from those in need, fantastic, what’s your point?” You asked.

“What would you rather us do? Drink from live humans?” Colby called from outside of the door. Sam turned towards the door, calling over his shoulder, “Shut up Colby!”

The blonde turned back to you, shaking his head. “My point is, we don’t drink from humans like you, ever. However we haven’t smelled anything like you in our few hundred years,” Sam continued explaining. His words finally caught you off guard. “Wait so you both are what? Three hundred?” You asked. Sam shrugged. “We’re both twenty six, but we’ve been twenty six for about three hundred and forty years, give or take a few,” He informed you.

“Yeah it gets blurry after a while,” Colby agreed from outside of your front door. You almost had the pleasure of forgetting he was there, your face twisting back into an angry expression as you resumed your conversation with Sam. “We are very controlled members of our kind, believe it or not. You’ll have to forgive Colby for losing his head, we usually don’t interact with your kind either. Kind of a double whammy,” Sam finished.

“Can I come in now?” Colby whined from outside of the door. You sighed, nodding. “Yeah come on in,” You agreed. The locks on your door broke off in seconds, a unfazed Colby entering your apartment. Words of protest hung on your tongue before Sam cut you off. “Dont worry we’ll fix that,” Sam told you. You watched as Colby awkwardly shut the door, your chain lock lying on the floor. As Colby joined Sam’s side the blonde nudged him with his elbow.

“I am truly sorry for what I did in the alley. But in my defense you are very hot and you smell divine,” Colby apologized. You felt your face heat up at his compliment and you silently prayed neither of them noticed. “In order to make it up to you we have an offer that might entice you,” Sam told you.

Colby rounded the corner of the kitchen island, slyly approaching you. “You see we’ve noticed that you seem to be pretty lonely, locking yourself in this apartment all alone,” He whispered. Colby leaned in closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “How you desperately grind against your vibrator to get off,” He purred. Heat dashed across your cheeks, your blushing so intense you knew both of them noticed.

“You see when vampires do bite a human, it sends the human into a state of blissful euphoria,” Sam continued. He followed Colby’s lead, walking over and standing directly in front of you. “B-but you said there was risk?” You questioned, trying to remember what Sam had previously said. It was hard to think as Colby towered over you from the side, tucking stray hairs behind your ear. “If one of us bites you there’s a chance you’ll become immortal if we feed for too long, but if we share you, it’ll force us to let you recover so the other one can feed,” Sam explained. Your eyes met his, his full attention on you.

Both of their attentions felt overwhelming, their mere presence making you weak in the knees. “It’ll only be more pleasurable for you if we fuck you, make you beg for more,” Colby murmured. He pressed a kiss against your ear, shifting himself behind you. His strong hands guided you to press your back against his chest, a whimper escaping your lips. Sam stepped forward, guiding your chin to look up at him. “If you want this you have to tell us, the smell of your arousal isn’t enough,” Sam said firmly.

You felt Colby’s boner poke you front behind, both men making your mouth water. The idea of taking them both at the same time sounded exhilarating, the idea of being bitten only making the idea sound better. You nodded profusely, grabbing Sam’s shirt to bring him closer. “Please, I need it,” You whimpered. Colby snickered from behind you, his hands exploring your body. “There’s our girl,” He praised, planting kisses on your neck. Sam planted his lips onto yours, roughly kissing you.

Neither of the boys would admit to you they hadn’t bothered having sexual relations in the past decade, the lust for blood ending in some bloody accidents. But they had enough trust in one another to stop the other from accidentally draining you dry. You were a delicious prize, one they wanted to keep around for a while. It didn’t help that you were also extremely attractive, your doe eyes enough to bring either of them to their knees.

Colby’s hands snaked their way up to the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath the fabric. His touch was ice cold, goosebumps spreading across your skin as his finger tips made their way up to your breast. “No bra? Naughty girl. It’s like you wanted this to happen,” Colby teased, smirking into your neck as his finger trips grabbed your perky nipples. You groaned into Sam’s mouth, the blondes cock growing harder by the minute.

“Let’s take this to the couch, yeah?” Sam suggested.

In the blink of an eye you were teleported onto the couch, your back now rested against Sam’s chest. The blonde moved your hair to the side, kissing your neck gently. His chest grew heavier as your heart began to speed up. He could hear the delicious blood flowing through your veins. “I’m gonna bite you first, that okay?” Sam asked. He exchanged a look with Colby as the brunette settled between your thighs, pulling down your pajama shorts and panties.

“Y-yeah, that’s fine,” You agreed, swallowing hard. Colby kissed your inner thighs, trying to shift your focus away from being afraid. As divine as your fear smelled to them, they wanted you comfortable. “Hey princess, focus on me,” Colby ordered. You forced yourself to open your eyes, looking down at the brunette between your thighs. He brought two fingers to your soaked entrance, sliding them in with ease.

Your hips rose to meet his touch, a sinful groan escaping your lips as he curled his long fingers inside of you. You could feel the coolness of his rings against your entrance, your head tilting back onto Sam’s chest as he finger fucked you. “There we go, you’re doing so good for us,” Sam praised. Colby attached his mouth to your clit, sucking at the sensitive bud like his soul depended on it.

While your mind was distracted with pleasure, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly bit down on the side of your neck, his sharp fangs piercing your skin. You gasped in pain, your head spinning as Sam began to feed. Colby maintained his assault on your cunt, the pleasure helping the foreign pain subside. He briefly detached himself from your clit, his fingers not slowing down. “Relax for me, it’ll feel good in a minute, just relax,” Colby cooed.

Your hand instinctively reached down, searching for Colby’s spare one. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, gripping Colby’s hand. If your eyes had been focused on the brunette you would’ve seen his face, his eyes widening at the intimate exchange. You were seeking comfort in someone like him, as his best friend was feeding on you. He was mesmerized by your naiveness and how desperately you held his hand.

Sam on the other hand was having the time of his life, sucking warm blood from a warm body. The sound of your moans only enhanced your taste. You squeezed Colby’s hand as the euphoria settled in, your face going pale. “Sam chill, you’re going too far,” Colby warned, choosing his wording carefully. Sam slowly pulled away from your neck, panting as he looked at you. You felt a familiar knot forming in your stomach, your mouth running dry.

“Fuck, i’m so so close,” You warned. Colby kept his fingers going at the same brutal pace, putting his mouth back on your clit. You whined at the sensation, throwing your head back. “Thats a good girl, cum on Colby’s fingers,” Sam praised, lapping at your wound. Droplets of your blood trailed down his chin, his tastebuds on fire as licked you clean. Your legs trembled as you cried out Colby’s name, cumming shamelessly on his fingers.

Sam’s boner was begging to be released, the slightest movement you made only making him harder. “You look so pretty cumming for us,” Sam whispered to your ear, peppering kisses all over your exposed skin. You were seeing stars, your mind spinning as you came down from your high. Colby slowly slipped out of you, the boys repositioning you quickly. They had forgotten how fragile humans were, your heart pounding so loudly they almost thought it was going to jump out of your chest.

You were positioned on all fours, your back instinctively arching as Sam took his place behind you. Colby was quick to attend to your sweet face, watching your doe eyes slowly open. “Hi Colby,” You whispered, giving him a dazed grin. Colby found himself smiling back, admiring your natural skin tone flooding back onto your face. “Hi princess,” Colby replied, giving you a genuine smile. You were able to see his fangs up close, the ends of them looking sharper than you had imagined.

Sam ran his tip up and down your drenched folds, the sensation making you shudder. “Why don’t you tell Sammy had badly you want his cock?” Colby asked mockingly. You tilted your head back, your adams apple visible to Colby as he leveled in front of you. “Sam please, I need it, so fucking bad,” You whined. Colby watched as you swallowed, trying to regain some moisture in your mouth.

Colby used one hand to tilt your head to the side, admiring the veins in your neck. “So beautiful,” He murmured. Sam slowly slid in, his cock bottoming out with ease. The brunette couldn’t help it anymore, deciding Sam fucking you senseless could wait. He needed to taste you now.

Holding your head up with one hand Colby sank his fangs into the other side of your neck, groaning at your taste. You were frozen in ecstasy, whimpers escaping your lips. You could feel your blood being drained out of you as Sam’s cock filled you whole. Sam moved his fingers down to your clit, swirling the abused bud as Colby drank from you. With each beat of your pulse he consumed more of you, before finally forcing himself to move away. He panted as blood dripped down your neck, the brunette using his thumb to wipe it away.

“Sam please move,” You begged, your words running together. You felt like you were on cloud nine, your eyes finally meeting Colby’s as Sam began to fuck you. “Colby, please,” You whined. The brunette smirked as he undid his belt, your desperation only turning him on more. “What is it princess? What do you need?” He asked mockingly, taking out his cock. Between unholy groans you managed to pant, “Please let me suck your cock, please.”

Colby grinned at the sight of you rolling out your tongue for him, your innocent doe eyes meeting his. “Fuck, i’m going to ruin you,” The brunette muttered. Sam’s assault on your cervix and clit continued mercilessly as Colby pushed his cock inside of your mouth, your jaw going slack as you maintained eye contact with him. “You have to try her mouth dude, fuck. It’s like she was made to suck cock,” Colby moaned, pushing himself in further.

His words only made Sam speed up, the blonde behind him coming closer and closer to his orgasm. “Next time we’ll switch, her cunt is milking me. It’s like she wants to be filled up by us,” Sam replied, grinning mischievously as your walls squeezed him. Your moans vibrated around Colby’s shaft, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You began to gag, spit pooling down the sides of your mouth and down your chin.

“Awe there we go that’s it, take my cock down your throat,” Colby praised, his face full of pride as he slid in further. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your body so incredibly full. Sam felt your walls squeeze him tighter, the blonde throwing his head back. “Fuck, that’s it, cum on my cock like the good whore you are. Go on. Let me breed you,” Sam spat, his hips snapping into yours. He gripped Colby’s thigh as you came on Sam’s cock, his fingers slowing down their assault on your clit.

Your vision became hazy as Sam came inside of you, groaning your name as he did so. Colby grabbed your hair, putting it in a makeshift ponytail. “Hope you didn’t forget about me princess, this is payback for the pepper spray,” Colby told you before cumming down your throat. You struggled to breathe as he slowly pulled his cock out of you, before swallowing all of his cum. Your waterline was flooded with tears as you looked up at him, completely and utterly dazed. You presented your tongue to him, proudly showing him that you had swallowed all of his seed.

You were filled with cum, covered in saliva and blood, tears threatening to escape your waterline and both boys could only think one thing: you were so fucking beautiful. Sam redressed himself first, while Colby guided you into a more comfortable position. As the brunette redressed himself he smiled, digging in his pocket. You watched as he pulled out a twinkie, handing it to you.

“I figured you might want this.”

You giggled as you took the sugary treat, watching as Sam grabbed a wet washcloth. You realized then, in that very moment, you would be seeing them again.

#sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x reader

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cultofdixon · 5 months

Text

Little one had other plans

Rick Grimes • She/Her Pronouns • Timing is never perfect when it comes to babies coming into the world. Rick just wished the group wasn’t…homeless when his baby decided to make an entrance • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Anxiety / Unbearable pain

A/N: Really bare with me and TWD timeline

Requested by: Anon

“Rick?” Her voice brought the retired sheriff out of his slumber as he carefully sits up from their shared bed.

“Yes darling?” Rick smiles moving aside for Y/N to sit with him as she instantly locked their arms bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “Are you feeling alright? Missed yea this morning”

“Uhm. I know we just…hitched and we didn’t talk about certain things especially given it’s the apocalypse and Lori but…”

“Y/N. Please just say it”

“I’m pregnant”

Rick’s silence only brewed the fear and anxiety within Y/N as she was about to pull away when he shifted so that he could pull her entire person into his embrace.

“Are you upset?” Y/N frowns holding onto her husband as he started to rub soothing circles on her back feeling her relax. “Rick—-“

“We’re just…so in love with each other that we couldn’t contain it all.” Rick whispers feeling her tighten around him as he did the same. “So we made another person out of that love” he held her as she sobbed in his embrace.

“We’re happy about this?”

“More than happy darling. We’re safe here. I can’t wait for this chapter with you” Rick smiles bringing his lips to her temple keeping her close as the two wouldn’t separate for a while longer.

But the luxury of the prison never lasted…

When Rick reunited with Daryl on the road, after dealing with the claimers…the archer brought it up. Brought up the thought that Y/N could be dead and being met with Rick’s silence was his answer meaning he didn’t want to even think about it.

“We’ll find’em.” Daryl states watching Rick turn to him slowly with a low expression before looking away. “She’s a fighter. May be the size of a planet currently but you know she ain’t leavin’ this earth without fighting to get back to you”

“Did yea just call my wife a planet?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Just shut up and let’s follow the train tracks once Michonne and Carl got some rest”

We will find them

And they do. Thankfully not in the mess of Terminus and Rick was extra thankful after hearing a few things about the cannibals that quickly met their end in the chapel later on.

The Grimes boys will forever be thankful to Tyreese with saving Judith and for both him and Carol finding Y/N moments after the two had found each other. Rick handed his daughter to his son quickly but gentle for Carl to get a good hold of her before he ran over to his partner bringing her in his embrace.

“Thank god you’re alive” Y/N sobbed out as she held onto Rick the best she could given the space they didn’t have. Rick pulled away from the embrace to kiss her firmly on the lips before bringing his gaze to her belly and placing his hands on it. “That’s also a bonus…”

“What? The baby kicking?” Rick asks while his gaze still focused on her bump.

“Yeah…Baby hasn’t kicked since the prison fell. Guess it missed its daddy” She breathed out a laugh listening to his follow in suit. He pressed his forehead against hers still staying in this moment as no one dared to interrupt.

The cannibals

The hospital

Beth…

Tyreese…

So many things could’ve been avoided and now the remaining group found themselves struggling with the fact that this could be the end if they don’t find anything. By anything the essentials for survival. Daryl did his best to hunt what he could find but nothing was turning up. The creek within the forest didn’t carry enough water like they hoped when they first planned to check. But Rosita boiled what they could draw up and insisted it be given to Y/N which the peanut gallery didn’t protest.

“Rick we need to prepare for the worse cause scenario” Carol pulled him aside as the group continued its tiresome walk to nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“She could go into labor. She is that pregnant where it could just happen without any of us prepared. We need to at least somewhat be”

“Or what?”

Carol didn’t say another word and only gave her friend a stressful look littered with fear of losing Y/N to this pregnancy like they did with Lori’s. They wouldn’t know what to do if Y/N needed a c-section or if she lost a lot of blood. Anything could happen and it didn’t take words for Rick to know he could lose the love of his life.

________

Y/N laid tiredly on the makeshift bed in their shared cell as she hasn’t been able to keep anything down for a few weeks. Typical morning sickness but Hershel had his worry about dehydration, not like Carl hasn’t been hovering making sure his stepmom had water. Rick asked him to keep an eye on her and his baby sister when he tended the garden but he didn’t need to be asked to do such. The two grew close when Lori passed and if she would do anything for Carl, he’d do anything for her.

“If your dad is making you hover. You don’t have to” Y/N said almost exhausted as she sat up in the bed when Carl was once peaking from the curtain now fully entering the cell with another canteen.

“Dad didn’t tell me anything. I’m allowed to check on you if I want to”

“I should be checking on you. You don’t have to worry about me” She states patting the empty space beside her while moving the blankets to cover her legs. “I’m okay”

“I know…b-but I want to…I don’t want to miss anything”

Y/N gave him a confused look gently making Carl look at her as he tried to cover his face with his hat. But then Y/N took his hat off lifting his chin to find his tears.

“Carl…love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I…” Carl choked up a bit feeling Y/N carefully wipe away his tears whenever they spilled from his waterline. “I don’t want to lose you too. I didn’t see…a-anything before and I just—-“

“Carl. We couldn’t have predicted what happened to your mom to have happen and I’m always so deeply sorry you lost her.” Y/N gently held his face feeling him ease into her touch letting her wipe away his tears. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I will promise you. I’m going to be okay”

“But you can’t…you can’t promise something like that”

“I’m going to anyway. I’m going to take good care of myself and this baby, knowing damn well my boys are going to help me. I’m not going anywhere love…I’m going to be okay”

________

Something didn’t feel right.

Y/N had tried not to think much of the growing pain in her stomach as she thought it was the lack of food in her system or the mild dehydration she was reaching.

Then when the mysterious water appeared and the debate of drinking such was washed away in the little sense of the rain pouring down on them. Her distressed expression matched those who’ve lost since the fall of the prison hence no one second guessed the feelings. Until Carl took note of it.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a little uncomfortable. Keep her covered or she’ll get a cold” Y/N fixed the coat she was once wearing to cover Judith better as Carl took his hat off to cover her head.

“Are you really sure that’s all mo—-Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m—-“ She stopped herself reaching for Rick grabbing his bicep harshly to indicate how much pain she was in as he quickly addressed the matter bringing her close. “R-Rick I think. I think the baby is coming”

“Well that couldn’t have been poorly timed” Eugene commented only for Abraham to smack him upside the head. “You have any better idea where the pregnant woman should have her baby? In the middle of the road with the rain pouring down on us and unable to see the walkers when nightfall approaches”

“Someone shut his mouth” Rick snapped watching Glenn push Eugene out of the Grimes’ line of sight as Abraham and Rosita blocked his view.

“Nah we got somewhere. Saw a barn on my way back to y’all after searching for water” Daryl states before leading the way as Rick didn’t hesitate to pick up his partner bridal style following the archer along with the others following shortly behind.

Once they got in the barn, everything had to happen again. Going in all different directions. Maggie and Carol took care of getting Y/N situated, prepared while Carl took care of watching Judith while the others swarmed respectfully on the other side of the half wall to give Y/N some privacy while she stripped from the waist down.

“Tell me how you’re feeling. Especially if there’s major changes” Carol stated watching Y/N nod trying to take deep breaths feeling Rick gently brush the hair out of the way of her face watching her look at him through anxious tears.

“Your baby will come perfect okay, okay? Nothing wrong will happen” Maggie’s choice of words confused those who weren’t there when they lost Lori, and especially how they lost her. No one questioned. All the focus was making sure that baby comes out okay while protecting everybody.

It felt like a cue. When the walkers came a banging on the barn doors resulting in almost every muscle they’ve got keeping them closed, Y/N was already in the motions of pushing this baby out only for a smooth sailing to reach a jammed complication.

“H-Hurts. Hurts so much!” Y/N shouted as the growling tuned it out except for Maggie and Carol’s ears as they both were checking what is happening. The baby’s shoulder is stuck and in a perfect world they’d have the tools or the operating room to go to that nuclear option of a c-section. Something they didn’t want to do.

“Y/N you have to stop pushing”

“O-O…I…” Y/N sobbed listening to Carol’s words as she gripped onto the blanket she laid on not finding the words to ask for her husband but the anxiety growing in the situation made Maggie shout.

“Rick we need yea!” That caused a few head turns as the pounding shifted the weaker few against the door.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Rick instantly asks, taking Y/N’s hand into his feeling the bone crushing grip she was producing as he kept his ground a straight face for her.

“Baby is stuck”

“I have a plan but if it doesn’t go well, we could lose them both” Maggie frowns, remembering an old conversation back from the prison with her father about breached babies and if it ever happened to her then one would have to reach into her while another pushed down on her belly to help the baby progress.

“Take me through it. We’ve got this” Carol states turning to Y/N and her worried expression. “Scream. Scream it out. Everybody’s got our back and you will make it. You both will make it”

The growling grew louder along with the blood curdling screaming as Michonne brought Carl into her arms covering his ears while the two kept their ground against the door. He sobbed listening to his mom’s screaming and those from the beginning of the prison sanctuary were all feeling the old anxiety bubble up inside them.

But once it settled…the growling faded and the anxiety dissipated…the screaming stopped…

Rick pressed his lips to Y/N’s feeling the tears roll off his cheeks as he pulls away to look at their baby boy laying on her chest calming instantly to the soft touch his mother brought with the finger grazes.

“He’s perfect…”

“You did it, darling” Rick exhales a chuckle, kissing her forehead and bringing her close keeping his coat to cover their baby keeping him comfortable in her arms.

“We’re okay” Y/N felt the tears pour as she laughs the anxiety out bringing her gaze to her son when he brought himself to look at his brother. “We are okay, like I promised”

Carl felt the tears return in his eyes as Y/N tiredly reaches to wipe away his tears. Rick smiles at the gentle act admiring his little family as he made this declaration a long time ago…

But he’ll never let anything happen to his family.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction

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i-yap · 14 hours

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Hi, I saw you wrote about Jason, could you tell me how Jason would behave with someone who loves him unconditionally? but it wasn't even a batgirl or middle , What would happen? Would it be a lot of fights or...? for your past

I wanted you to write so much 😭 please

Yess i do write for jason, ik i show a lot of love to dick(he's my baby) and tim( also my baby) but jason is also my baby( my indian parents are very disappointed in me)

Jason x Superloving! y/n

You are his dream girl!! the perfect match!! a normal girl who loves him no matter what he has to deal with, someone safe, warm and kind to come to after living a life he hates.

You need to be incredibly patient, caring and observant when it comes to jason. Bro can not communicate his feelings nor does he knows how to show them. He wants to , if he could he would bring the stars and moon and make them into pretty beads to have the honor to be a part of your necklace collection. Infact just ask him to and he will find a way. But with you, aka someone who loves him no matter what- he doesn't feel as guilty and insecure about not being able to be as open and romantic as you deserve.

Also jason would really be best off with a non vigilante/hero/powers girlfriend. Some comics mention how much Jason hates this sort of life but has been living it cause he has no other outlet for his trauma and pain and feels like he has no out anymore. So a sweet, kind girl who allows him to see what a normal life could be like. Who helps him overcome his trauma in a healthy way .

Jason also loves simple domestic things, he never grew up with them. Never had anything close to a "home" not a house, a "home. You give that to him. Someplace where he can breathe, be happy and in love.

Fight? haha no way. I mean yes jason explodes sometimes and runs away from expressing himself. And ofcourse you worry for him . He also is super jealous and insecure. So misunderstandings happen. But since you are so loving, patient and openly infatuated with Jason, its really rare that you actually fight. Maybe in the beginning of the relationship but after that almost never fight

Jason could never hurt you, he wont. its his biggest fear . And the moment a single tear comes to your eyes or u get really upset , he drops everything and then you're the priority. Noone hurts you, not even him .

I think you and Jason after a couple years will just leave all that vigilante stuff behind and jason becomes a nice literature professor and you pursue your own dreams. also start a nice way of helping out homeless kids and rehabilitation of substance abusers . ( I will forever push jason literature teacher canon) In the end, you guys will probably the first of the batfam to get married and maybe even get kids. You are everything Jason needs and once he gets over his issues, he'll be sure to tell you that.

I hope this was what you were looking for, I didn't fully understand the request. Thanks for asking so nicely , it really motivates me to write when I see such nice requests.

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sturnsbaebackup · 5 months

Text

IS IT OVER NOW? - MATT STURNIOLO (PART TWO)

i highly recommend reading part one before you read this, which is linked here!

summary: after seeing matt at the party and admitting you still have feelings for him, things aren’t so radio silent between you two anymore.

warnings: not proof read lolll sorry if there’s typos 😛

—

immediately after the party, a week went by of still no contact from matt after your heated encounter with him.

at that party a few weeks ago, you spat out plenty of angry words at him and he did the same to you, which had been keeping you both up at night. both of you wishing you could take the entire situation back. you and matt just wanted each other, but neither of you knew how to break the silence. that was until matt decided to text you last week, asking if you wanted to go for a drive.

…

you hear your phone buzz as you begin to start falling asleep, and you groan in annoyance. you roll over in your bed and grab your phone off of the charger. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you see the familiar contact photo appear on your lock screen.

“what the fuck?” you blurt out, immediately sitting upright in your bed and opening his text.

matt | can i come pick you up in like 10 mins? i’m in the car and im not too far from you. we gotta talk

read 12:24 am

you take your sweet time rereading the text to make sure you’re not dreaming. it’s been pure radio silence from matt since the party, and the first thing he texts you is that?!

matt | you have your read receipts on yk

read 12:26 am

“oh fuck,” you mumble, immediately starting to type out a response. your hands are trembling a little due to all of the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

you | oops sorry but yeah ofc just text me when you’re here

he reacts to the message with a thumbs up, and you immediately bolt out of bed. you curl your eyelashes quickly and add a little bit of blush on your cheeks and nose. he knows you were about to sleep, so there’s no point in putting on obvious makeup. you grab a random hoodie from your closet and throw on some slippers. you look homeless, but who cares. it’s just matt.

that’s what you keep repeating in your head to yourself in an attempt to calm the nerves that are practically doing somersaults in your stomach.

it’s just matt. it’s just matt. its just matt. nothing to be scared of. it’s just matt.

your thoughts are broken up when your phone dings with the message of matt letting you know he’s waiting in the car outside. you exhale deeply as you lock the door behind you, shivering in the cold, late night, los angeles air. muffled music can be heard from the outside of matt’s car, and his eyes are glued to his phone. he’s just as nervous as you are, maybe even more.

your hand wraps around the door handle, and you pull it gently in an attempt to not frighten matt. his eyes look up at you and lock with yours, making your heart skip a beat.

“hi matt,” you say awkwardly as you sit in his passenger seat.

“y/n, hi,” he smiles softly, beginning to put the car in drive. you keep your eyes down at your feet as the car begins to drive away, the silence killing you internally. in previous moments like this, you both would be fighting over aux not even a minute into the car ride, but this time it’s dead silent with quiet music playing in the back.

“so, you wanted to talk?” you blurt out, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“yeah, but i was hoping maybe we could get some mc donald’s before we have the serious conversation? you know, like old times,” he says, reminding you of the times where after a bad fight you guys would talk things out in a parking lot over a shared mcflurry and fries.

you let out a soft chuckle, “yeah okay, sounds perfect.” the silence isn’t as awkward as before, but the tension is so tense you genuinely could cut it with a knife. your thumbs fiddle in the front pocket of your sweatshirt as you wait for the traffic light to change, the mcdonald’s drive thru being at the other end of the intersection.

“can i get two oreo mcflurrys and a large fry?” matt asks the lady working the drive thru. she calculates the total and you immediately reach for your wallet to grab your card, but matt quickly stops you.

his hand now rests on your forearm, “no y/n. let me pay, i’m the one who dragged you out so late,” he smiles softly. when he notices his hand on your arm he quickly takes it off, making your heart sink a little. ‘things aren’t how they used to be, we aren’t dating, and you need to realize that,’ you mentally tell yourself.

eventually you guys get your food and pull into the far back corner of the parking lot. it’s very dimly lit but the flickering florescent street light that’s shining on matt is making the dark bags under his eyes extremely visible. you’re quick to notice them, and you instantly know he hasn’t been getting much sleep at all, and you have a guess that the reason is what he’s about to talk to you about.

he unbuckles the seatbelt and rotates in his seat, resting his back against his door facing you. “so… first of all how’ve you been?”

you pick up a fry from the bag that rests on the center console, letting it cool off between your fingers as you speak up. “i’ve been uh— you know. just living, i guess. how have you been?” you shrug, putting the fry in your mouth.

“not good, honestly. that’s why i texted you,” matt admits, looking down at his thumbs that reside in his lap. your heart drops at his statement and an overwhelming feeling of sadness rushes over you. if you and matt were still dating, you would be pulling him in a tight hug and holding his head against your chest. but you can’t do that, so you just sit and looking at him.

“what?” you ask, hoping you heard him wrong.

“i haven’t been getting much sleep. like, at all. i really miss you, and i fucked up at that party. i never should’ve been trying to make you jealous with her. that wasn’t fair to either of you, and your words keep playing through my mind every night. it keeps me up at night.”

you take a moment to process what you’re hearing, and sigh. “matt come here,” you say, putting your mcflurry down into the cupholder and leaning over the center console to hug matt. he looks up at you with sad eyes, confused at what you’re about to do, but as soon as he realizes, he immediately hugs you back.

you pull his head into your chest and rest your hand over his left cheek, making sure to hold him as close as possible. you press gentle kisses on the top of his head as your fingers play with the ends of his hair.

“i miss you, y/n. i love you so much and i’m so sorry i thought we needed space, i was so unbelievably wrong. i was just going through a weird phase for like a month and shoved you away, but i really think you’re the only person who can calm me down. you bring me back to earth, y/n,” matt mumbles against your chest.

“shh matty, it’s okay. we don’t need to talk about it yet, let’s just enjoy the moment,” you mutter into his hair softly. eventually you and matt break the hug and continue to catch up on everything you guys have missed in each others lives within the last few weeks.

“speaking of clothing— is that my hoodie?” matt asks you, sidetracking from your conversation.

you look down at the gray nike sweatshirt that rests on your body, and your cheeks flare up with heat. “oh my god! that’s so embarrassing, i had no idea this was yours. i just grabbed the first hoodie i could find. i swear i thought i gave this back to you,” you blush.

matt chuckles, “keep it. it looks cute on you. plus, you’re just gonna end up stealing all of the hoodies you gave back to me.”

“you know me so well,” you laugh as you throw a fry at matt.

“hey watch it! i just got the car cleaned!”

#matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 10 months

Text

More Nimona headcanons cause I'm bored

Bal and Ambrosius are absolutely those people who take Valentines Day seriously

But not in the way you would think

They’re not that couple that acts like Valentine's Day is specific to couples

No they acknowledge that its about all kind of love platonic, familial, self love the whole shebang

So they go out of their way to spend time with their friends and loved ones and take time to take care of themselves

Some years they even host little get together with their loved ones

Like don't get me wrong they absolutely spoil each other rotten and have stupidly sappy romantic dinners

But that isn’t the main focus of the day

They kind of expected Nimona to hate Valentine's Day

I mean it seems like the perfect time for her to rant about how “Valentine's Day is a made up Holiday by greeting card companies”

But they fucking love Valentine's Day

It’s the one day out of the year that their favorite colors are spread across the city and chocolate is literally everywhere

They even participate in the boy's little get-togethers and help them set up

So in my personal opinion there is no way that a singular person in the trio had a normal childhood

In the clip of Bal jumping the fence he looked around 7-9 which is when I assume he started his training and we can assume he was homeless before that

Ambrosius has been training to be a knight since he was a kid

And the only moments we got to see Nimona being a kid were with Gloreth which is really short in the grand scheme of her existence

So I like to think that they take at least one day out of the month to do something childish

Whether that be going to an amusement park, hanging out in an arcade, going to a movie theater and then getting ice cream afterward

You know things that none of them got to do when they were “kids”

And slowly but surely they start to heal their inner child

They really look forward to those days and it becomes the highlight of their month

I feel like the trio all have different ideas of money

Even though he didn’t have a great childhood money was never something he dreamed of worrying about

And not in like a snobby way either (it’s lowkey cute to watch this grown man try and wrap his head around taxes)

There have been multiple times when Bal has expressed that he wants something and Ambrosius buys it without thinking

Bal will just look at him and go “Love this was 6,000 dollars” and Ambrosius just tilts his head like a golden retriever and goes “Yeah is that okay”

All the while Bal is trying not to puke because he hasn’t held more than 400 dollars in his hand

Nimona has no concept of money because whenever he wanted something he’d steal it

He’s been around longer than money so he finds the concept incredibly amusing

She’s gotten in multiple arguments with finance bros because she’s said with a straight face “Why can’t we just print more?”

And she just laughed as their faces got progressively redder because she genuinely doesn’t get it

Bal is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum

He’s always been cautious of his spending

And while this isn’t inherently a bad thing it’s stopped him from doing things he really wants

Slowly but surely Nimona and Ambrosius have gotten him to break those habits

Mostly by spending Ambrosius' families money

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #Bal is always worried the family will notice #Ambrosius always says it's unlikely that they will make a dent in their lifetimes #So spend while ya can love

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unofficial-writing · 2 months

Text

Promise

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Maybe the tiniest ounce of angst, so much fluff I’m sick

Summary: After the battle you two stumble upon the mirror of Erised and now’s a good time as any to propose.

Word count: 856, short and sweet

༺═────────────═༻

You stood back by the doorway, gazing out the slim hole in the stone. Dirt and blood painted your face, likely covering smaller wounds that hadn’t been tended to yet. Even with your current appearance, Fred was completely taken by you.

His lips turned into a smile, allowing his eyes to move drift away from his girl to scan the room. “As surprising as it is, I’ve never been here before.” He announced, his green eyes landing on the object in the center of the room. A tall golden mirror. It shined as if it were new, yet had a weathered look to it at the same time.

“I haven’t either.” You responded, turning on your heels to catch up with Fred, who moved around to the front of the mirror. He fumbled with the ring in his pocket— which was surprisingly still on his person after all that had happened. It seemed so long ago that he was at his desk, engraving “I promise” onto the inside of it.

Fred stood before the mirror, seeing both you and him in horrible shape. You were both bruised, bloody and exhausted. But despite all that, your smile never failed. Smaller but never gone. The sight of it summoned a warm feeling to his chest.

He turned away from the mirror, glancing at you just in time to see your expression completely change. Your mouth fell open, staring at your reflection in awe.

Confused, he followed your eyes and his heart jumped at the picture. It had completely changed. Where you both were looking practically homeless, you now stood completely cleaned up. Fred was in a sleek black suit staring down at you— you. Oh my god, you were breathtaking. You were in a flowing white dress, a vale draped over your h/c hair and the biggest smile he had ever seen.

His lungs failed him. Seeing you in a wedding dress sparked thoughts. Just the thought of getting to marry you made his head spin.

“Are you seeing this?” The real you took his focus back, but he could only nod. “They’re beautiful! Are they ours?” His brows furrowed and your question and he pulled his eyes back down to you.

“Who?”

“Well, probably the little ginger you’re carrying! And the one George has over his shoulder.” You went on describing the scene and it sunk in what you saw. Both of you saw the perfect future together. it made his mind drift to the ring he carried.

He slipped his hand back into his pocket for it, hesitant. You smiled up at him, making up his mind for him. Throwing his big plans out the window, he pulled the ring out gently, as if it could break under his touch. “Y/n.” He started, glancing from the ring to its future wearer.

“This is less extravagant than I had hoped it would be.” He was aware that his tone gave away how nervous he was but you didn’t care. You were shocked and through your face, that was given away too.

“Since we’ve met, we’ve probably been through more than most couples, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. During these past few years, I’ve fallen in love with you in every way possible.” Your smile was brighter than the one in the mirror.

“I want to be yours as long as I’m alive, if you’ll have me.” Fred beamed. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

You were pretty much in tears now, which immediately prompted him to copy you. “R-really?” You got out. You didn’t even wait for a response before dropping to your knees with him and throwing your arms around him.

Fred managed to get out an emotional laugh, as your shaking body settled into his arms. You lifted your head to meet his eyes but he interrupted and pressed close to a thousand kisses all over your face, finishing with a sweet kiss to your lips.

To you, this was all you wanted. Whatever Fred’s elaborate plans were didn’t matter at all to you. You were overjoyed to be able to marry him. After all the jokes and teasing, it was finally real.

“Looks like I’m finally going to be a Weasley.” You smiled at your new fiancé, who pulled you back to him, wrapping his arms around you.

He exaggerated a sigh. “We’re gonna have to dye your hair now.”

“Absolutely not.” You replied while Fred slid the ring onto your finger.

“We’ll see, love.” He teased, running his fingers through your hair. You kissed the spot just under his ear and buried your face there.

There were a few moments of silence as both of you processed. Fred breathed deeply, holding you tightly. “I’m yours, Y/n.” He whispered, smiling when you melted into his embrace.

“Forever?” Your voice sounded like music in his ears.

“Forever.” Fred responded, brushing his thumb over the ring, which was now occupied by your delicate finger. “I promise.”

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #harry potter fic #weasley twins #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fandom #Weasley twin fic

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cherizzx · 2 months

Text

My Perfect

L x Chubby Reader

A.N: ( See even though im like late I STILL POSTED! im on like grind yall but, this man so fine I'm like i must write my deepest soul wrenching words about him)

I'm not perfect.

That's it. I tried every day as a kid to be perfect; pretty hair, small frame, soft voice everything to look desirable to others I tried to be. In high school I needed to be bold, thicker but not too thick, tall but too tall; never speak overly passionate it was a turn off, don't wear too much makeup it's like I'm a slut, and never can venture out and find a comfortable look for me. I never let the girl inside eat.

I wasn't berated though? Yes, I got stares when I wore something sitting and people saw my stomach, like yes mothafucka I got a stomach y'all thought it was a huge ass pot in my shirt? Yes, I did get the ' I'm sO cOnFideNt!' talk when I ate something like fruit, who doesn't like pineapple? When shopping I had looks of could I fit this or that and nobody ever comforted me when I would cry about not fitting jeans.

I was never perfect. But he never cared.

*Back to when Light didn't find the Death Note yet*

" What are you having for lunch?" was asked by my closest coworker, Maria she and I was friends since our college days when cramming information about law, statistics, and for some reason Shakespeare; we were forever. I turned to her in this damn rolling chair that was obviously not made for a girl with that thang back there, I mean why is half my leg practically on the floor? I thought about it for a second.

" I could go for quick burger, what about you?

" That's fine! Also did you finish your report? I didn't even get to..." I just stared at her though my head in space, Maria turned to see what I'm looking at and she saw a strange man walking inside the room.

" Um...I don't think he works here?"

" Is this when we got to fight for our lives? I don't have no weapon."

The man tall, dark unruly hair not curly though it looks like a one of those emo people from the 2000's like my chemical romance vibes, he has a homeless man look on him...its kind of sexy thought but, he doesn't work here?

We watch him while towards us and goes to the head manager cubicle that two rows ahead of us. We look at each other and look down acting like we're working but, we really being nosy. We hear only indicant chatter and the strange man's voice, his name is Riuzaki? Or Rukai? I don't know and our manager asked again, and he ignored the question and started talking about something different. Kind of rude but, with the way our manager is I'd do the same; Maria looks at me and looks at the time and tells me it our lunch break so, we both get up and I make sure to push down my jacket a habit I did as a teen to look slimmer, we walk out and down the little pathway to the front of the office when we get close to the strange man I turn my head down, his eyes immediately traced to me and he stared at me and he turned, kind of weird his eye contact was intense!

We walked over to the company lunch places inside it's a tiny burger spot filled with American dishes; we haven't really eaten there so we decided to try it out since it was also raining. Maria order first, a chicken salad with extra chicken and cheese with a large drink and dessert then it's me, a cheeseburger with fries and a large drink with a cookie; we wait a bit and sat down at a two-seat table and we talk about the sight we just saw.

" I wonder if he's trying to get a job here? "

" For what though? we ain't got nothing available yet."

" What if they fired somebody!? I heard but I didn't hear from department C that somebody was overusing company resources and they got let go."

" Omg, who?" Maria was going to say but we hear a buzz, and our food was ready we grabbed a tray and the person who gave us our orders gives me a look, ya'know the look of ' Breaking that diet huh?' Its common but still is annoying so I mean mug him back and he backs off. Sitting down we talk about our topics of choice like vacations, fashion trends, the latest news when the man from earlier comes down; didn't even see him till he pulled up a chair beside me and stared. Like what?

" Oh, Hello!" I introduced myself and Maria does the same, but how says nothing and stared at me.

" Are you going to eat that?" He points at a strawberry cookie I got, I look and shake my head "no' even though I was saving it I give it to him and smiled. He takes it and thanks me and then turned to Maria and asked how she feels about the company. Now, Maria is a sweet girl but, if she can't say her opinion without lying so she tries to say it's wonderful but, he caught on.

" Don't lie. I'm not going to do anything."

" Oh! but I'm not! really it's a won-"

" Your eyes turned up, when some people lie, they eyes turn up to think of somethings. Your hands turned over into a clasped position saying you're more of nervous than calm when I asked."

She's shocked and so am I, he takes a bite of the cookie and then looks at me to which I look away and he stares at me; deep black eyes pierced into, and I just look away because if I looked back what if he jumps me and I gotta kick and scream like that would be so embarrassing!

" Are you nervous?

" No, never"

" Hm...You look uncomfortable" He continued eating and I looked at Maria with a head tilt.

" So, what's making me uncomfortable."

" Your clothes, your shoes are hurting your feet by the way you walked quickly, and you have the heels of them off" He responded quickly, and I was shocked I mean he didn't lie. I just look and Maria excused her and mouthed ' Whoop his ass' and went to the bathroom, so now it's just us. We look at each other and I just shook my head and began eating again. He just looks at me and then turns his body towards me completely.

" What?"

" Do you like your position here?"

If I had the choice between working here and $20, I would pick $20 and a bag of skittles, it has it benefits from time to time but it not worth the headaches and long hours and I tell him just that. He hums and says nobody ever been that honest and I could care less, I listen and eat when he asked another question.

" If you're really don't like how you look why don't you change it"

It wasn't even a question it was like a statement like he knew, he knew from when he stared at me, he watched me. I look at him shocked and I just chuckled and threw the rest of my food away and left, texting Maria that I got sick. Walking away I see him get up and follow me, so ignored him; he just walked beside me and just looks either at me or around him hunched over like he finna throw up. Like what compells somebody to say that? Did he think I'm the one to try to play around with thing you'll get a good joke ooutta me? I should've shoved that damn drink up his stuck up ugy big headed-

" Your mumbling"

"...ok"

" If what I said made you mad just say it"

" If I did I'll go to jail for man slaughter."

He just chuckled, even though I'm pissed he sounded a little smexyyy but, I'll still beat his ass. I keep walking towards the parking lot, and he grabbed my arm asking can he be honest.

" I mean if back there wasn't honest I don't know what is"

He just stared (he got a staring problem) and began talking about how he meant that he saw me adjusting my jacket a habit he saw a lot of girls do when they want to look slimmer, then he saw the look his manger gave us me when I walked past, he said it was in utter disgust. As he went on all the insecurities from the past came again the girl inside of me just began to show, I looked at him blank, my hands started to sweat, my thoughts ran through me like a train, and I couldn't hold it anymore as a sob slipped through like butter from my mouth. I wiped my face and took a deep breath.

" Being a girl in Japan is hard, being black in Japan is harder, being a fat girl and black in Japan is like a war zone every day in my mind. From stares, to the so called ' complements', to everything inside growing out of me is like a constant war zone. Having men look at me like a 3rd class citizen is the problem, having girls treat me like I'm beneath them was the problem and no one had a problem with it."

" But who could care? It's not like I can change what they say with the attitude they expect from a black girl. I'm not perfect but, they wanted me to be and how am I going to achieve that? Huh?"

I stopped for one second and he just said nothing, all the bottled-up feelings I've had just overwhelmed me and I overshared.

" I think your perfect"

" Lying is a sin ya'know"

" Then good I'm an atheist. Your look is perfect."

How can somebody look perfect? With a body like this, my skin to people in this country are like a permanent plague, and my hair is just a warning to them on its own. I am not perfect, but he thinks I am. He's trying to help me feel better and it's not going to work.

" If this is perfect then-'

" You're not going to believe something if you denie it so much."

This man says that beautiful is different to everyone, like what people grew up with which is skinny, fair skin, and cute people they think it's a standard and everyone that's not all three of those traits are ugly. He said the way I feel is how he felt as a child he was never built manly, he was always so small and skinny people thought he was sick. It never bothered him; he seemed wiser as a kid then the whole world at its years; I couldn't even disagree with any statements I always found how people views change when they see unique things or common things and associate them with ugliness or beauty.

" For a homeless man your very smart"

"...I'm not homeless."

" Oh...then why you dress like you've seen a clothing store in life."

" I have seen a clothing store. I just don't see the appeal of dressing up."

He's an emo hippie. But nevertheless, I just listen and make my own few points. We continued walking and he stops me again.

" What's your name?"

" Reader Last Name, and your?

" Call me L"

' Hello L"

" Hello Reader"

Now we walk in comfortable silence, by the time I'm by the garage L asked for my number, his contact now ' Emo Hippie' and mines?

'My Perfect'

A.N: ( i finshed! I love this one because i feel this irl about my body type but, i got over it and it's kind of hard to write L's dialogue without making him sound rude because he's only nonchalant. But, let me know if you like it!

#black fem reader #x black reader #chubby reader #black reader #x chubby reader #death note #l x reader #body image #cherizzx

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yonemurishiroku · 1 year

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I like it when people draw Jason/Percy using straight words whereas Nico uses one with a curved blade.

Because it shows that his swordsmanship relies on slashing and cutting, not thrusting, depicting his physically disadvantage.

Compared to Jason and Percy, I have a suspicion that Nico has never possessed the same physical capacity at the other two: he has smaller frame, less muscles due to malnutrition for probably half of his puberty/adolescence idk, physical abuse and mental traumas, etc… it’s a lot. Jason probably can skew his enemies, Nico hardly can.

Also, Nico got his sword early in his homeless days, in which he was still a scrawny, unstable kid (he still is). So it makes sense that he would go for something that requires less strength - that he didn’t have.

Furthermore, Nico’s sword is canonically capable of ripping souls with a single touch. So really? What’s the point of trying to stab something when you can probably end the fight with a single glaze?

If I were him, I’d probably focus on my techniques and dodging skills, aiming for an only strike rather than the sheer brute force required to stab something. A saber with a curved blade is the perfect tool.

So yeah, even though I prefer long swords, I do like those when Nico holds a wicked lne that looked like it could hang multiple heads on its blade.

#i’m no weaponry master btw #so take this with a grant of salt #i’m over-analyzing things. i know #nico di angelo #jason grace #percy jackson #yone rambling #pjo #hoo #toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #riordanverse

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witch-and-her-witcher · 5 months

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Intermediate

Feysand | T | Corporate Mod AU

1.5k, part 1 (two will be shameless smut), tysm @popjunkie42 for reading this over and joking about excel with me 😘💖

lucien's coffee mug

~☆~

Feyre may have elaborated on her past work history on her application.

“You can't be homeless, you can’t be homeless,” Feyre chants, feeling her breath catching in her throat as her mind works on overdrive to follow anything on the secondary screen with a Youtube video ‘Vlookups For Dummies.’

Alright, she flat out lied.

“‘Intermediate Excel experience’? Great advice, Lucien, fucking inspired — Wait.” Of course, how could she forget? Feyre’s lifeline.

“Prick,” Feyre grumbles. Technically, he did her a favor helping her get this job that she desperately needs to support her true passion, painting, but he’s still way too aware of how good-looking he is and acts too cocky for his own good.

The mahogany door opens and the most beautiful man she has ever seen pokes his head out, silky black locks having no right to fall so seductively over one side of his face.

“How much longer, darling?”

“Oh, not very! Almost done!”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

The door clicks shut and Feyre is as red as the bottom of her knock-off shoes. If it wasn’t mortifying enough she is completely incompetent and slid through the interview by memorizing corporate jargon with Lucien and wearing her best push-up bra, now she has to add looking like a bimbo in front of a man like that.

Rhysand Night, playboy entrepreneur who took his family’s old money and completely flipped the tech world on its head — all to benefit the end user, and not to line his own pockets or that of his shareholders.

Of course, not that he isn’t loaded.

Rhys is the most eligible playboy in Velaris and he tosses his black card around as much as his gleaming, heavily insured smile and perfectly sculpted, heavily tattooed muscles.

The things she would do to get in a room alone with him with as few clothes on as possible.

For her art's sake.

A perfect male specimen to model for her painting didn’t come around every day. Sure, there were plenty of attractive men who came to the studio to pose, but all of them paled in comparison to Rhys Night’s Instagram pics, sailing shirtless on a catamaran on the Adriatian Coast.

What else she’d do with the mental images of his nude body would be between her and her twenty dollar special, jersey cotton sheets.

Damn it, focus!

Feyre squeezes her thighs together to suppress the horny mess she is and begins typing in a flurry.

Heartbeat somewhere in her throat and sweat starting to collect along her hairline, Feyre clumsily clicks around the screen until she’s started a call with Lucien with the mic off and —after first flipping her camera on and nearly screeching at the level of incompetent she is feeling — she gets the two spreadsheets on the screen for Lucien to view.

Another thirty seconds wasted searching for that button, and Lucien is highlighting a cell and beginning the formula when the office door in front of her desk is sliding open again.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This time, Rhys doesn’t just poke his head out. Oh, no, ohnonono, the walking sex god is fully out of his office. Sauntering over to her with his hands in his immaculate suit pockets. She can see out of the corner of her eye that Lucien is typing something or other, a question about an array? Jesus Christ, Lucien, as if I know what that word means if I need your help!

No, she’s Feyre Archeron. When her back gets pushed against the wall, she does her best work.

“Sorry to rush you, darling, but I really need that document for this meeting,” Rhys drawls and she can hear late nights with glasses of brandy, lacey red numbers and a thigh tossed casually over his lap in his voice. “Mistakes to call out, asses to chew, and all.”

His steady, clipped footfalls haven’t stopped.

Rhys is coming to her desk.

Fumbling like the ditzy blond men normally take her dishwater hair for —it's really more brown, but the fantasy is what they want— Feyre manages to close out of the Teams call.

The formula is only just started.

Feyre tucks a stray wave behind her ear and smiles cheekily up at the man stealing every bit of oxygen out of the air as he comes around her desk. “You must have slowed up the whole company’s computers with all your work, even mine is lagging.”

The full force of that smile right over her shoulder is too much as Rhys leans back against the wall and looks down at her like the dark fantasy he is. Those blue eyes flash nearly violet as he looks her over, letting his gaze linger on her low neckline.

Shit, she should have worn the push-up bra today.

“In my experience, if the boss shows up, it’ll make the system start working again. Just to make you sweat, you know?”

Can he see how sweaty I am? Oh god.

Feyre forces a laugh, prays it sounds natural and not like she’s losing her absolute mind.

His hands shift in his pocket and it draws her attention.

Being tall, dark and handsome means the first part lines his crotch nearly right up to her eyesight while she’s sitting at her desk. There’s the slightest bulge … Feyre swallows thickly and quickly looks back up, sure she’s blushing enough to hide even her freckles.

Rhys doesn’t catch her gawking. He’s looking at his office and then back to her screen.

God, right, he really needs this sheet.

“Want me to move aside and —”

“No, no, don’t let me micromanage you.” He squints ever so slightly. “What’s that? I haven’t seen that formula before.”

Feyre turns back to her screen and sucks in an inhale, nearly chokes on her own spit, but recovers enough to answer, “Oh, yeah, this. I was trying something new. Trying to impress the boss, y’know?” She laughs uncomfortably.

Rhys places one hand on the back of her chair and cages her in by placing his other on the desk beside her keyboard. He’s leaning over, spilling the scent of his citrus and sea salt cologne over her and the overwhelming sense of foreboding that she is definitely, irreversibly, about to get shit-canned from this job and single handedly embarrass herself beyond saving in front of the most beautiful fucking guy ever.

“Just do a vlookup, it’ll be faster. No need to impress anyone here, Feyre.”

He knows her name?

Oh god, he knows her name.

Why does it sound so god damn sinful coming off of his tongue?

He has to know what he’s doing to her.

Feyre presses her thighs even harder together, as if that will do anything to help her now. A cold bucket of ice water is all that will do.

“Let me just get rid of this and start again.” Feyre feels her mouth shape the words, feels her hand on her mouse highlight the cell Lucien started the xlookup in, feels her hand shift to her keyboard.

Tap tap tap goes the ‘backspace.’

But nothing happens.

Feyre wants to sink into the ground. Fall through a hole that sends her straight down the twenty floors to the basement, better yet to a pit preferably full of mud to bury herself under.

Rhys makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Just, let me —”

“Feyre, darling?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Night?”

“What’s your Excel experience level?”

“It’s um, well, it’s. You see. When I said ‘intermediate,’ I meant in like, the functional role I was in before. Which, was, you know, really different and um. So.”

“So … You’ve never opened an Excel document before?”

Feyre is mortified. She is never, ever going to recover from this never-ending moment and it’s all that fucking red headed prick’s fault and her own selfish desire to sleep under a roof.

Since when is being a starved, homeless artist so bad? Builds character.

Feyre shouldn’t have tried to bypass the character building part.

She lifts her chin up and looks sideways at Rhys who is still leaned over her shoulder, dazzling eyes staring at her screen in amusement. His sharp nose turns towards her and suddenly they’re sharing the same breath.

“My, my, what are we going to do about this, darling?”

#when a girl just needs to blow off steam from work this is what she writes #its ridiculous and im laughing so hard #feysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre #rhys #lucien #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

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lesser-mook · 3 months

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It's on purpose. Illegal Aliens before Americans.

the elites want war to destabilize the once great country, not ever good. But once great, in concept, if ever in execution.

Giving taxpayer dollars to illegals to antagonize the citizens to erupt into civilwar and use that war to justify dystopian martial law.

That seems to be the plan. Part of it. It's the perfect premise for some kind of war arc. Or even more misdirection.

People, blacks, whites, asian etc. Americans are all royally pissed. And rightfully so. Something like this is unifying us in anger.

Just like those movies where an invasion unifies earth.

And despite my own emotionally chagred arguments, its not the illegal immigrants fault. They were invited to come, they were given free shit, they didn't take taxpayer dollars it was literally taken from us TO THEM- By the Government.

A Communist Gov. could do that, so the fact that America's did it, shows this is on purpose to get a reaction. The Illegals are just a means, Biden does not care about them or else he'd house them on an island he allegedly owns or any of the mansions he and his rich friends possess.

No they stuff these people in high-schools, kicking kids out. Community centers. No camps for Homeless AMERICANS but illegals get a camp in less than 3 weeks. record time

This is on purpose

Previous phase was to create tensions & wedges between men and women. Push alternative lifestyles, tolerance, cancel culture, hypersensitivity, obedience, apathy.

The Pandemic, the prototype was practicing curfews and clearing streets like we were in the apocalypse.

That was 2015 to 2023

Now, using this illegal alien outrage to distract from what Russia and China is doing, those country's leaders want to see the west burn.

There's a movie dropping literally Called CIVIL+ WAR

Its all a set up. All of it.

We're reaching the latter phases.

TheDrudgeReport.com , keep an eye on it if you want to know what's going on beyond what the media agents of the establishment tell you.

Russia, not all of it, but its leader wants war.

Navalny Alexsei, look him up.

#alexei navalny #rest in peace #russia #wake up #pay attention #pay attention to the world around you #illegal immigration #americans first #biden administration #pawns #lessermook

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haruchifuyu · 6 months

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RATING TR OFFICIAL ARTS BC WHY NOT

Bandage edition

(minor manga spoilers on shinichiro’s part!!)

#1 top fit. No this is not biased. Ate and left no crumbs THE LACE?? THE ORCHIDS? BUTTERFLIES?? THE SPIDER WEB?? Also correct me if im wrong but the inside looks like their tattoo? Or at least very similar. Hes so pretty and slutty i love my wife sm 8.5/10, -.5 bc i wanted to see him w painted nails, -1 for the newest official art w the dogs out bc it genuinely took 10 years off my lifespan

#2 okay honestly,, i had such a hard time deciding whether izana or haru should be in 2nd place bc both their outfits fucked. But the peacock feathers? Beautiful. The coordination between the shoes and the top of the jacket? On par. He would totally paint his nails black. I also love the yin and yang like how they had on the tenjiku uniforms. Especially how its the little dot on the peacock feather its so extra. 9/10, -1 for the bandages i know ur not well sweetie but this is unnecessary

#3 WAIST ON THINNAAAAA god he is perfect. Love the water lilies AND THE FACT THAT ITS SEE THROUGH. He looks very classy and elegant and vibrant and pretty. Total 180 from his personality teehee i love him. Dont talk to me if its not gonna be abt how he absolutely dominated this look. 9/10, -1 edward scissor hands

#4 pure fashion icon. I love the shoes sm i cant put it into words. Chunky modern clogs and he is the only one who could pull it off!! Love the owls too he looks so clean n fresh try spelling fashion w/o mitsuya. King. I WILL say tho i feel like it might look better w more flowy pants, BUT i think it still looks good w the pants he has on. Tbh 10/10 there is absolutely nothing wrong w this look

#5 LOVE LOVE LOVE the symbolism w the lilies and the dove. Shinichiro the og he definitely looks like hes abt to beat a homeless man to death. Not a fan of the shoes tho i feel like they just don’t go. I feel like if they were more like takemichis style in this oa it would look better. 9/10 -1 for the shoes

#6 Very similar to ran’s obv but i absolutely adore the shoes. Also in love w the bees so cute. Purple nails love to see it. So handsome please break my legs. My pookie fr. 9/10, -1 bc he looks like hes abt to bark at me

I would do more but i cant fit all of them on here so i mayyy do a second one w the rest of them lol

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #ran haitani #izana kurokawa #sanzu haruchiyo #shinichiro sano #mitsuya takashi #rindou haitani

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sassycheesecake · 4 months

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A/N: I have been really into dark romance and shit, ever since I got that TikTok recommendation. I hereby present yakuza!Shinsuke Kita x Reader. Part 1/2

‘Shit. Shit. Shit! I am late!’, you curse yourself as you almost bolt out of the train, as soon as it stops and its doors open.

You accidentally ran into a lot of people, shouting quick apologies over your shoulder, still running to your workplace.

Thank the heavens for your stamina.

Finally arriving at the Tokyo Ambulance Rescue Station, you quickly run inside and each of your coworkers stops what they are doing to look at you.

Huffing and almost wheezing like you’re having an asthma attack, you step inside and head to the female locker room without looking at any of your coworkers.

Already feeling disgusted by your sweaty state, you change into your paramedic uniform nonetheless.

Now in fresh clothes, you trot your way to one of the ambulance vehicles, seeing your friend Makima checking the equipment in the backpacks and making sure everything is filled up.

Gulping in nervousness, you approach slowly.

“Glad you decided to show up. Almost done.” Makima tells you in a deadly calm voice. Makima is one of those people who despise being late, whether it's herself or someone she is waiting on. She is only a few years older than you but still your superior. Great, this is just your first month after graduating but you were so tired last night that you forgot to put on your damn alarm for the next morning.

Not that this is an excuse, but your showing up is all that matters right?

With shaking footsteps, you make your way into the vehicle and start apologizing in a rant.

“Makima I am so so sorry, I promise it will never happen again!”, you frantically explain yourself, still out of breath.

The long-haired redhead briefly looks at you before bursting out laughing and you don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse.

Giggling, she closes up the i.v. medication backpack and storages it back underneath the cabinet of the bandages.

“(Y/N) don’t worry about it really, shit happens to all of us. No one is perfect and everyone here at the station was late once. Even me.” Makima explains and you can feel yourself being able to breathe easier already.

Just when you were about to reply to her, your beeper went off with a loud annoying peeping voice.

You run to the rack, where your black jacket with your name and the words T.A.R.S. are stitched into, and hop into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Reading the screen at the front, you groan at the message that the fire station has sent you.

‘PATIENT PROB OD, TROUBLE BREATHING, UNCONSCIOUS, UNRESPONSIVE ‘

It’s probably the troublesome homeless teenager Denji again. You have met Denji twice now. Once beaten up badly and lying knocked out cold in an alley where he was found by a couple of passengers. The other time you found him almost bleeding to death due to a deep stab wound in his thigh, which he explained he simply got mugged.

Nonetheless, you press the buttons for the siren and the blue lights, while Makima steps on the gas to rush to the scene.

The rush and adrenaline are running through your system, making your heart bounce in excitement. Saving lives in acute situations is your thing! It’s a working environment that always comes with new foreign things and patients. Each day is different, which is exactly what your brain needs. Even if you have to drive through the massive city of Tokyo, the different kinds of people and the stories you get to tell your parents sometimes, are worth their shocking and even disgusting expressions sometimes.

Once you were called to a restaurant, in which a patient had an allergic reaction and went into a nonlethal anaphylactic shock.

The patient told you that his date was so horrible, that he purposely ate onions, even though he is allergic to them.

All just to get away from her.

Shaking your head, the logic of men never ceases to amaze you.

Arriving at the scene, you see two people leaning over a young guy that is laying on the sidewalk. He is already turned to his side, making sure in case he needs to throw up, he doesn’t choke on his vomit. Mentally thanking these people for performing the stable lateral position on the unconscious boy.

You grab the mobile vital monitor and the backpack that includes material for giving an I.V. including meds and an infusion.

Before Makima grabs the breathing and the medical suction pump, she turns off the siren but leaves the blue lights on. Pressing the lock on the car keys, the ambulance is securely locked. Unfortunately, people tend to break into ambulance vehicles and proceed to steal the medications.

Both women are rushing to the patient, quickly going through the ABCDE approach, and they manage to load him onto the stretcher after making sure he didn’t overdose. His heart is beating abnormally fast, his blood pressure is at 75/40 and when you shine a small flashlight to take a look at his eyes, his pupils are dilated.

There’s no doubt about it, that Denji got his hands on cocaine.

After giving him Adrenaline and Naloxone, his condition stabilises and Denji begins to stir.

Blinking his eyes open, a bright light immediately greets him and Denji swears he died.

He feels incredibly nauseous and his head is spinning like he just went on countless rides on a spinning wheel.

You hover over Denji’s pale figure, a vomiting bag already in your right hand.

“Denji? Can you hear me?” You ask him in a concerned voice.

When Denji was about to answer, he rapidly sits up and snatches the bag out of your hand, and hurls right into it.

Rubbing his back in a comforting manner, you sit beside him on the stretcher.

Makima is giving a quick report to their station boss, before joining you in the vehicle.

The sight of Denji vomiting disgusts Makima, deciding to wait outside because she can’t stand the smell or sight of someone throwing up.

“Denji, I think we should really take you to the hospital, you’re only 16 years old, where did you even get this stuff?” You ask him in a worried voice.

“It’s none of your business, let me out! I need to go!” Denji snaps at you, beginning to stand up.

You know you shouldn’t fight someone who just woke up from a drug rush, so you let him stand up.

Standing on wobbly legs, he places his hand against the vehicle wall to stabilize his balance.

Breathing heavily out of his mouth, he was about to open the vehicle door when Makima already beat him to it.

Surprised that he is up, she moves to the side to let him step out of the vehicle.

Denji almost falls flat on his face and his pale face makes you even more worried about him.

“Denji, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want us to call anyone?”

“Stop acting like you fucking care about me. I am just a street rat. I don’t need your pity! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He angrily spits at you, like a moody teenager that got his phone taken away.

Makima and you are watching him walk away, still unbalanced but both of you leave him be.

“You’re welcome by the way for not letting you die today!” Makima yells after him. Denji shows his middle finger up in response and continues to stomp away.

Sighing in defeat, Makima and you get back into the vehicle and you are making your way back to the station.

Giving the report that the patient refused to cooperate and come with you, you drive back.

The clock strikes 22:00 and Makima and you are finally free to change after the night shift has arrived.

Farewelling Makima goodbye, you begin to walk to the train station.

Having your headphones in your ear, you scroll through your Spotify playlist and choose ‘Glitter and Gold’.

You had a really busy day and barely had a chance to go to the bathroom.

Entering the women’s restroom, you look up from your phone, and the sight before you freezes immediately.

Right in front of you stands a very tall guy with sandy-blonde hair, he has to be at least 6’1 and he is holding a lot of tissues against his arm, blood soaking each tissue.

The stranger holds a painful expression while putting pressure on his arm.

His muscled body is leaning against the sink, the blood on his upper arm dripping down right into it.

Brown eyes rapidly look in your direction, his face shining with curiosity.

Chuckling nervously, he starts talking with his deep voice.

“Don’t scream, don't call for anyone. Just got a little scratch on my arm.”

Blinking a few times at his wound, you slowly step towards him.

Your approach is making him tense, his non-injured arm moving to his side, where he holds a dagger in case you want to attack him.

“Your wound looks pretty bad. Don’t worry I am a paramedic, I can take care of that if you want to.”

The blonde-haired giant looks at you for a few seconds, making sure you’re not lying.

After a few moments of tense silence, he nods unsurely.

Breathing out slowly, you awkwardly glance at the door and at him a few times.

“Uhm. Just follow me then, I need to take a proper look at it. I have my materials at home so come home with me so I can patch you up properly.” You explain to him.

His eyes watch you carefully, hesitantly he nods and puts his maroon jacket back on.

“Do you have a belt or something on you?” You ask him as you both exit the public restroom.

The tall stranger nods and takes off his belt to hand it to you.

Grasping the belt you begin to tie it around his arm, so the wound hopefully stops the bleeding until you both arrive at your place.

Wincing at the tightness, he thanks you quietly.

As you both begin to enter the train, which is thankfully empty around this time on a weekday, you ask him what happened to his arm.

“Not that's yer business anyway, so I’d rather not say.” He avoids your curious look.

“But that wound is pretty deep! You need to go to the hospital and get that stitched up probably.” You try to reason with him.

“I am serious. Drop it.” He snaps at you with an angry frown.

Accepting his request, you decide to drop it.

With nervous hands, you glance down at the metro floor and wait in silence to arrive at your destination.

Ten uncomfortable minutes later, you both arrive at the subway station that is close to your apartment.

Unlocking the door with your key, you enter inside and wait for him.

The blonde hesitates for a few seconds, glancing down the hallway nervously before deciding that you’re not a threat, and enters as well.

Gently closing the door, you urge him to follow you into your bathroom where your medical kit lies underneath the sink.

You direct him to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he complies without question.

“I need to see your wound properly in order to clean it up.” You tell him while putting on medical gloves and setting the necessary materials like the stitching materials, disinfectant wipes, and fluid, and scissors.

He winces while rolling up his sleeve to present you with his injury.

You start by taking a wet washcloth and gently dabbing it around the area, quietly apologizing whenever he hisses and flinches away from the touch.

As you are now able to see the injury better, you see that it’s actually a bullet wound, hence the bleeding was so heavy.

Shocked that he has this kind of injury, you remember that he doesn’t want to talk about how he got it.

“Lift your arm please, I need to know if the bullet is still in the muscle tissue.“

He gives you an incredulous look since lifting his arm would only worsen his pain. Nonetheless, he complies.

Quickly looking around his arm you don’t see an exit wound, closing your eyes in pity for the stranger, you know what you are going to say next, definitely won’t be easy.

“Let me guess. That thing is still in there.” He looks to the ceiling of your bathroom with a tight smile.

“U-Uhm yes. I told you to go to a hospital. It needs to be surgically removed. I really recommend it Mr….”, you drift off as you don’t recall knowing his name.

He looks at you and realizes he’s never introduced himself to you properly.

“Name’s Atsumu Miya, ya can call me Atsumu.”

Later on, Atsumu enters the familiar door of the headquarters of the ‘Fox Den’ and lets out a heavy sigh.

The pent-up frustration from the fight with Karasuno, the pain, and the treatment that he had to bite through with you is making his body insanely tired from exhaustion.

Nonetheless, he needs to give a report to his boss, the leader of the Inarizaki gang of Hyogo.

Atsumu walks down the hallway that has multiple doors connected to it and since it’s awfully quiet, Atsumu guesses that most members are either asleep or away on missions.

Entering the lift at the end of the hallway, he presses the ‘5’ button for the conference rooms and where also the office of his boss.

Swinging back and forth on his heels, Atsumu waits until the elevator stops and continues his path to the room of the leader of Inarizaki.

Once he arrives at his destination, he knocks first, before entering.

“Hey Kita, 'm back from the mission." The blonde says when he steps into the office.

A man who has silver hair with black tips in it, is sitting at the desk and he briefly looks up from his laptop with a stoic face, before looking down again, continuing to type something down.

Ignoring the warm greeting of his boss, Atsumu plops down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and puts his arms behind his head to stretch.

Unfortunately, he completely forgot about the injury on his arm, immediately putting the injured arm down again with a winced hiss.

The head of the gang looks at his trusted friend before a slight frown of concern decorates his face.

“What happened?“ he asks in a calm voice.

“Oh, you know the usual. Just some fuckers from Karasuno in our territory and one of them fucking shot me.“ Atsumu explains while gently rubbing over his arm, feeling the wrapped bandage from you underneath his jacket.

His frown deepens at the mention of their rival gang, the Karasuno crows, but listens quietly.

“Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to send Ginjima or Riseki up?“ He continues to question him.

“Nah, I am good Kita. Got stitched up by this cute girl that I met while I was bleedin‘ out like a pig in a women’s restroom by the train station.“ Atsumu pulls his sleeve to reveal the bandage.

Kita glances at the bandage on his friend‘s arm, a mix between concern and anger but also suspicion haunts his face.

He slowly gets up from his chair and rounds his table with slow steps, making his way toward the older twin.

The injured man looks at him with curious eyes while raising his eyebrow in confusion.

The silver-haired man stares at one of his most trusted right-hand man with a neutral expression and puts his arms behind his back.

“Tell me more about this mysterious medic girl.“ He demands.

Atsumu grins mischievously at his boss and begins to tell him about his fight to the encounter of meeting you.

Yawning, you stretched out your exhausted limbs and climbed into your comforting blue soft blankets. The feeling of your head hitting the cushy pillow makes you sigh in bliss. It was a long day, first the rowdy patients, then getting vomited on by a drunk homeless person that almost overdosed, and then there was the injured blonde-haired stranger you met tonight. You’re not going to lie, it was a whole mountain of stupid to just invite a stranger over to your apartment. Anxiously, you remember, that he mentioned he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get patched up because he needs to stay anonymous.

The only question is…

Why does he need to do that?

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone vibrates with a message. You curiously pick it up to see what the notification is.

Eyes widening in shock and also a concern, you glance at your screen.

Unknown number

‘Thank you for taking care of my friend. I would like to repay you some time for your kind service’

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyū!!#hq x reader #hq fluff #inarizaki #shinsuke kita #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke #yakuza!au #yakuza #haikyuu mafia

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pistatsia · 5 months

Text

Marc Snuffy: the one who's in control

my Snuffy & Lorenzo fic using this characterization

Snuffy is the epitome of the word 'control'. From his motto to the use of his body with its perfect, calibrated balance on the field in the form of jiu jitsu (elements of which were also utilised by logic genius Sherlock Holmes in Conan Doyle's fictional style).

Snuffy controls everything from the individual strengths of his players to their place in his strategies, while also building all of his logic on a solid, confident base: for example, when constructing his team at Ubers he goes by the club's tradition and builds it on defence rather than attack. Even Lorenzo was raised by him to be flexible and adaptable (and most importantly, with the understanding that the most important thing is not to win, but to live), which can be seen in his attitude to the game - both serious and entertaining at the same time. And capable of accepting both losing and winning with dignity.

He controls even personal relationships, clearly defining the conditions for both sides, their benefits and losses - where it would seem that there should be no room for formalities. And if about Barou this could be hardly regarded to the football, then with the starving Lorenzo everything is a bit more complicated.

And I think it's obvious to everyone that this not entirely healthy level of control, going far beyond the boundaries of dedication, grew out of his trauma from Mick's death and their failure.

It's evident even in his relationship with the characters closest to him, Lorenzo and Barou. Through them both - two people so similar to Mick Moon (Lorenzo in appearance in his homeless era, Barou in both appearance and personality) - Snuffy recreates his trauma in an attempt to rewrite it with a happier ending. The kind of thing that Barou gets a glimpse of and is rightly angry about.

Of course this is hardly fully realised, only partly - in life, for example, kids who were bullied in their childhood sometimes become teachers. And then they stop the bullying near them as working adults, giving the new kids the happy ending they once deserved. And that's exactly Snuffy's case: he saves his players from a fate he himself couldn't avoid. He's willing to keep them as safe as he can control, growing them in almost hothouse conditions, which is exactly what Barou hates. So much so that he's easily willing to take the blame if they fail.

But at the same time, which makes perfect sense for such a person, Snuffy hates it when things get out of control, especially when there is deliberate sabotage - which is actually what Noa is teasing him about. I'd even go so far as to say that Snuffy is the kind of person who can only focus on a far-reaching goal by completely ignoring the unimportant things along the way - for example, he saved Lorenzo's life, but it seems they never talked about the fact that he didn't have to play football for Snuffy to love him, and that "worth" of his isn't that important.

Remember how Snuffy reacts to Barou's attempts to get out of his control and break his patterns: he's full of cold fury. That look is far scarier than shouting and punishment.

Because through Barou's prism Snuffy sees both his and Mick's paths. And most of all Snuffy is terrified of falling back into that helplessness - when he wasn't prepared for the event that broke his life in two. An event over which he had no control.

But it would seem impossible to be prepared for such an event. It's like a natural disaster and a terrorist attack - it's something that tears the usual fabric of life apart.

But when has that ever stopped anyone, right?

So Snuffy, in the moment of tragedy that destroyed his past, felt that he had a duty to anticipate everything. He had to know how and where to act, find the right words for Mick, save the careers of both of them, and basically hold the world on his shoulders so that it wouldn't break them apart.

It's terribly cruel and certainly unfair upon himself - but that's the way trauma works.

And that's why the journey he takes with Barou's help is so satisfying and liberating. Blue Lock does show overcoming one's traumas and chains visually and vividly very well - and how, with Barou's help, Snuffy was able to transcend his limitations, rising like a phoenix from the ashes, is perceived both visually and consciously, because it's relatable.

Because a person who is able to prepare for everything, to expect both loss and failure in advance, who knows exactly all his skills and advantages....

...also clearly sees the limitations of his body and mind. He simply cannot go beyond them - because he controls himself so much that he unwittingly limits himself, almost self-sabotaging - just to stay on predictable, familiar ground.

Logic is incapable of improvisation.

And this is what Barou is talking about - and what he teaches Snuffy anew, re-igniting his desire to live and play.

He shows Snuffy again that both life and football are made up of unpredictable moments - those where you are happy that something unexpected has happened that you weren't waiting for, those where you amaze yourself by going beyond your limits, those where you are happy and at the peak. Those where you need logic, but where you can't build your victory and happiness on it alone. Because happiness is in illogicality and unpredictability.

These moments are the things a person's destiny consists of.

The moments that Mick Moon lived for.

And the moments for which Marc Snuffy survived and rose again.

#marc snuffy #don lorenzo #blue lock analysis #bllk analysis #bllk #blue lock

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phramboise · 7 months

Text

— heart's blood in ink :: lieutenantjohnpricexfemale reader

you’re half of the flesh, and blood makes him feel whole

tags and warnings: minors please do not interest, angst, very detailed substance use, addiction, strong language, blood, illusions of smut, descriptions of a physically weak reader.

wordcount: 1.1k

…

“Do you mind?”

“Of course I do.”

“Fuck off then.”

Says her, pulling out the little clear zip lock out the cardholder of her wallet, turning it inside out, rubbing the empty contents pooled around the corners along her runny nostrils, and following behind him as the package slips off her hand, onto the floor.

That’s expected, and him knowing she will follow behind, his steps are slower than usual for her to catch up, looking askance at her slanky arm around his much larger one, and sighs as he wraps that arm around her shoulder, pulling her side towards his until they meet.

“Getting worse?”

Her humming yes, he breathes in her perfume as she stuffs her wallet back in her bag. He takes it off her arm to carry it himself.

Tightening his hold on her, he turns them both back over the street where they came from.

“I’ll get you a spray.”

No answer. Only a slight squeeze on his hand which holds her shoulder, walks alongside of him.

…

Never once he asks her why she snorts, or tells her to quit it, but sometimes, most times, as she cathces him siphoning the bags, and even as she undoubtedly dives her hand in the toilet to grab the pearl dust back and fails, they argue about it. Never tells her to quit it, but always telling her some way. Fuck off then! she shouts, but just like her lover, she also means things which she speaks not about.

Burnt and wet, her stillettos clack against the pebble sidewalk as a few homeless burn things to warm up in the distance. Street lights work every other day in this part of Liverpool, and there’s rust to breathe when there’s no oxygen. Perfect excuse for her. It’s this city that clogs her nasal vessels, this place is just not her lucky city. But even in summer, and even when people don’t burn synthetics, her nose is always runny.

How come you’re the only one who’s sick each season then? You’re just making that up.

Slowly pushing open the door of her maisonette, -her maisonette that he pays the rent for- her borzoi inside still sleeps soundly on her only couch. She slips out the leather jacket of his, and it falls on the dusty floor with a clanking sound of its zipper, and he makes no effort to hang it either, follows her dainty steps towards the kitchen, placing a few dabs on the sleek fur of the dog, on his way.

“Let’s see if that’s any better.”

It’s not the cold that gets your nose running.. “Here, let me…”

He leans over her to get equal on her height, but then smiles, his strong grip puts her on the kitchen table with both hands on her sides, sitting on the chair himself to look up at her face. Delicate feet land on the cushion of his chair, between his thighs as he spreads them, sliding further on his seat until her cool skin teases the stitch of his trousers. They both grin like idiots— that is, until their gaze breaks with her coughing, which makes him slide the thin pipe of the spray up her nose, spraying it through her nostrils as she holds her breath, feeling his other hand on her thigh. She rubs her nose, and he hates that such simple gest reminds him of something much more distasteful, for he always sees her do it.

It’s one of those days, where he once more realises of her frailty. The spray is halfway dripping out her nose as she wipes it away, but that’s not all, it’s not only a clear liquid that stains her hand, it’s more than that, it trails down her palm, wraps around her fingers in rivulets. Still looking at him -and because it’s not very rare now-, she does not notice her nose bleeding. His little smile dies on his face, and the chair creaks as he harshly pulls back, not in anger but in ruin, defeat. She looks down at her fingers, not even able to smell the copper, and they both know the reason of her weak sense of smell is not her “cold”.

Pinching does not help with her case, it makes it worse, for her vessels are already swollen with cocaine, pressing only hurts, makes blood gush out stronger. She only breathes in the blood, and coughs the rest on the napkin he hands her, staining the rough paper. She avoids his weary gaze as he leans back on his chair, tilting his head back up the ceiling until her troubled face exits his peripheral.

What would get her to understand? Would one day if he were to flush down all her little bags, leaving only catharsis to her get her to understand? If he were to pull out her wig, tell her somehow that even when the lights are low, she wears sunglasses for her eyes are sensitive and it pains him to not see her pupils, even when they’re dilated all black in rush, cocaine eyes, would she finally quit if he were to tell her it feels like hugging a skeleton holding her?

Do you think I want this to happen?!

She’d freeze all over, and her nose would bleed again as blood rushes to her face, crying, and some more hair would fall as she would throw her wig to some distant corner of the room. She’d cry more for that.

And as he gives her a soothing hug, why do you make me cry if you’ll hug me in the end? Fuck off, she’d say, and rub her bloody chin on his shirt. They’d make love and wake up to the next same day.

He does not ask her to quit, and she does not wait for such offer.

He rises from his seat, walking towards the little balcony, waking the dog deliberately to fill the displeasing silence. For it to run and defeat the ghosts around. It simply lays by the couch.

Night goes on so very slow, and his uncomfortable silence gets interrupted as she walks in the balcony, leaning against her arms over the railings, looking down before turning back to him.

Full moon, he’d watch her as she snakes her arms behind his neck, kissing his cheeks sorry, and he’d tilt his head for their lips to meet, she’d feel his tongue in her mouth, and his taste would suppress the ting of blood mixed with mouthwash she uses religiously. For him to not taste it too. She’d shed tears as they kiss, and he would catch them between his lips. He’d imagine her undressing, taking off his clothes later, slipping into the bed with him. An indolent sigh. She’d imagine his heat entering each nook. She’d cry, and he’d kiss each cranny where only the sun kissed. All day he’d think of her.

She’d promise to quit later in the night, as the effect wears off, but she’d always need another reminder of it’s highs, another sniff. She’d take pills to fall asleep and he’d smoke the cigars she bought for him, saying it looks better than cigarettes, I smoke them for the looks. They’d exchange the smokes between their welcoming lips, sealing it with a kiss. She’d steal it off his hand, smoking the rest as she’d sing him to sleep, some low blues. He’d let her.

They even have a sick bet between them; who’d die first? He says it’s himself to not upset her, and she says it’s him for there’s no way she’d die before a man who goes battling -and to not accept the inevitable-.

No one wins this bet.

If he were to see himself down the street one day, he would have a many few words with him. Having no lessons of what had befallen on you, isn’t it already enough to try running when this last love hasn’t died yet? Isn’t it enough ruin already? Do you not think? Do you think you can ever forget about her?

If he were to see her walking down the street on another day, he would tear the face of death after her, spinning. She would laugh at him, and walk away, away and far from him. He would follow behind.

…

If he were to ask her though, she does it because she’s done with this world, and she cannot carry him along to the world she’s running to. This fire ain’t worth accepting with open arms, thus she’d given up from this world, she’s done with it. But she’s leaving him behind, and that kills her faster than this white crap. Her only prayer would be him never dreaming of her after, she wouldn’t mind if he were to forget about her. In the lowest deep of a lower deep, the hell she suffers feels like heaven, and that’s what she would tell him if he were to ever ask.

…

Now laying under this lady with similar features she had but somehow looks a whole lot of different, he’d imagine it’s her who he just made out with, and as the lady asks so politely with her sultry voice, can I take a puff?, he’d tell her to sleep.

read part II, gold dust woman

#john price x you #john price x reader #price x reader #price x you #captain price x reader #price x y/n #captain price #price cod #john price cod #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price #heart’s blood in ink

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