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wysteria-bloom · 2 months

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⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

#alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox x reader #vox x valentino #im sad and tired #writing can only save me from the bleak reality that is life

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chuulyssa · 1 month

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🇨 🇴 🇳 🇫 🇪 🇸 🇸 🇮 🇴 🇳 ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

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thebearer · 10 months

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omg the part in that one blurb where reader makes a joke about being able to skip a meal and then carmy’s just like tf did you just say is so important to me as someone that has a long (and uneasy) history with body image and healthy eating habits

i was wondering if you had blurb/general thoughts/ideas on how carmy would react to the reader having a harder than usual time with body image for whatever reason

maybe they make one too many jokes or little comments about feeling insecure and carmy’s just not having it lol

carmen, with every ounce of love i have in my heart for him, would not be good with handling that. simply because he understands not liking yourself (like the idea of it, he can't fathom why you don't) but he grew up where food was kind of an act of love. he'd never hear an "i'm sorry" ever in his life, but his mom would very much so be the type to say "i have dinner ready for you" and that was as much as an apology as he'd get.

the first time you're kinda not eating, carmen's like trying to joke with you. "the food not good? don't like it?"

and you assure him that's not it. "i just... i'm not really hungry."

carmen's confused bc you've been together all day and you only had an iced coffee in the morning. "no way." he shook his head. "you haven't eaten all day. if you don't like it, baby, it won't hurt my feelings, i promise. nothin' you can say that a chef in new york didn't say, they said worse too. just tell me what you want and-"

"-carmen, it's ok. it's really good, i'm just not really hungry." you smile. "i need to not eat today anyways. my jeans are so tight-"

"-what?" carmen thinks you're joking at first, brows creasing with a small grin. until he sees your face. "you're-you're being serious?"

"well, kinda..." you mutter.

"that's... don't say that." carmen shook his head. "please, don't-don't do that, that's insane."

your face falls at his tone, you know he doesn't mean to be so hard about it, but you can't help but feel worse, like carmen's mad at you. in a way he is, but not out of anger, out of love. out of not wanting you to hurt yourself like that.

"i just... i feel gross, and i'm starting to look it-"

"- i think you look beautiful." carmen mutters. he sounds hurt, genuinely hurt by what you're saying, like you said them to him. "i don't... i don't like that you do that to yourself." he admitted after a moment. he'd been going to therapy, working on channeling his emotions out when he felt them instead of bottling them in, leading him to an anxiety attack.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, unsure of what else to say.

"no, it's not... i don't want you to apologize or- or feel bad, i just... i felt like i should say it." carmen's eyes lifted to yours. "that you don't need to do that."

you can't help the way your chest rushes with heat, anxiously picking up the spoon in front of you. you're not sure what to say, most of the time, most guys kinda brush it off. act like it's nothing or ignore it- some agreeing. no one ever got... hurt by it like this. like you were hurting them too.

maybe it was the guilt. maybe it was the fact that carmen looked so sad. whatever it was, you weren't sure, but you were fucking hungry- and the pasta was good.

you hesitantly took a bite, ignoring carmen's eyes tracking you. "it is really good." you hum, trying to break the obvious tension in the room.

"you don't have to eat it, i-i don't want you to feel pressured to." carmen shook his head. "but i'll make you something else? could i make you something else? whatever you want."

you blushed, looking down. you knew what he meant. he was trying to help in the only way he knew how to, by cooking. "carmen-" you sigh.

"no, it's... it's not good to not eat, ya know?" carmen looked up at you. "you have to eat but-but if you don't want pasta, i get it. i'll make you whatever if that's what you want." he looked at you pointedly. "but don't ever think you need to do anything like that f'me. i think you're perfect no matter what. love you no matter what. you know that, told you i'd still love you even if you were a worm."

you snorted lightly, his reference to the tiktok trend you'd done on him a while ago. "thanks, bear." you mutter, grabbing his hand lightly. "i-i would like, if it's not too much and you have all the stuff, that greek goddess salad sydney was testing the other day? i've been craving it."

"heard." carmen nodded, standing towards the fridge.

"if it's not too much trouble-"

"-c'mon." carmen scoffed, looking at you sweetly. "it'll take me fifteen minutes max. sit down f'me, alright. i got it."

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python333 · 8 months

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Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!

I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.

If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!

If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

self-slaughter — python333

— — — —

synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 6.6k

warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!

It gets kind of old after so long of doing it.

Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight.

Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts.

And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either.

Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago.

The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important.

However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment.

All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder.

The scalpel looks so tempting.

It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off.

Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves?

Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep.

It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool.

You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now.

It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true.

You’re still staring at the scalpel.

Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting.

You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife.

You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself.

It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations.

You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough.

About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it.

The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind.

Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about.

The fists your hands have formed become tighter.

Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring.

Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel.

You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin.

Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain.

You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.

Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself.

You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger.

With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed.

Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.

Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun.

Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar.

The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred.

So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go.

You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.

You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.

All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.

Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.

You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area.

You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart.

In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it.

There’s a knock. Then another.

The door handle twists.

You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second.

The door opens.

“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?”

He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip.

“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.”

“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried.

“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.”

“... Ye sure?”

“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.”

“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?”

“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.”

It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.”

You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”

You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.”

“Ye whit?”

“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—”

“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.”

You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.”

“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die.

You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally.

“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions.

“No.”

“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?”

You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others.

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?”

You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred.

“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.

He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters.

You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive.

You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.

When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s.

The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far.

Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word.

“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest.

Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.”

You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself.

You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.

Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well.

Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.

“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.

With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads.

“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Soap didn’t fill you in?”

“No.”

You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention?

Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?

“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].”

He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled.

Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings.

But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no.

Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit.

“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.”

Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.”

“I never said it couldn’t be.”

He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk.

You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—”

“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.”

“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.”

“But I—”

“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks.

You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you.

Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.

It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left.

Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit.

You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more.

Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?”

You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it.

Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms.

Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again.

“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.”

You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you.

Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.

“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.

As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself.

Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better.

"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click.

He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier.

“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters.

You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly.

You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin.

His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure.

Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once.

Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.

Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it.

Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort.

They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did.

They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more.

Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned.

“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?”

“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”

You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.”

“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.”

He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?”

“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin.

“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question.

“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.”

“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?”

You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either.

“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.”

“Us ‘four’ being… ?”

“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally.

Your words affect them more than you thought they would.

Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince.

It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?”

You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you.

“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.”

“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.”

“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz.

Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price.

“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably.

“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did.

And then, it was just you and Price.

It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.

“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple.

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.”

“Wanna give me some more detail than that?”

“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.”

“I do.”

“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—”

“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.”

“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.”

“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.”

You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.”

“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.”

“But you just said that I was strong.”

“I did.”

“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks.

“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.”

“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.”

You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up.

“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.”

“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.”

“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.

Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."

He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."

for those curious, the bthb card so far:

447 notes · View notes

sunflowerskies00 · 1 month

Text

too sweet, part 3

baby, i can never tell

series master list

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yourusername: don't give anyone any ideas rutgermcgroarty: can you be my mommy? yourusername: no. rutgermcgroarty: 😥 this is devestating yourusername: i will be no one's mommy luca.fantilli: ^well that's even more devastating- not for me- but for some people

jackhughes: every time your literal ass shows up on my instagram i want to unfollow u

yourusername: go for it. ur an opp anyways jackhughes: really? ur calling me an opp? ur the reason i spent most of my childhood grounded yourusername: no you were grounded for being an absolute menace to society lhughes_06: if anyone was the menace it was you yourusername yourusername: ur just mad because i'm mom AND dads favorite trevorzegras: this is almost as good as watching the siblings argue in person yourusername: 😑😑😑

edwards.73: fucking hell *comment deleted*

edwards.73: that's a nice umbrella

dylanduke25: is this guy fr? markestapa: no way you were looking at the umbrella luca.fantilli: he's so far gone rutgermcgroarty: we saw the first comment bud

username93: please I want to look like you

yourusername: GIRL UR GORGEOUS you don't need to look like me, you're STUNNING

username24: i know ethan is regretting every single one of his decisions that made it so he can't be on this vacation rn *liked by yourusername*

#ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #trevor zegras #rutger mcgroarty #mark estapa #luca fantilli #dylan duke #umich hockey #umich boys

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lovethetasteofnothing · 8 months

Text

Halloween headcanons - TF 141 + Valeria + Farah

includes: valeria garza, farah karim, kate laswell, simon "ghost" riley, captain john price, johnny "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick

gn!reader, except for Laswell x fem!reader (argue w the wall), female pet names

warnings: horny behaviour if you squint, like very little; mentioned consumption of alcohol; mentions of violence (light); the rest is pure fluff

word count: 2.4k words, roughly 350 per character

Valeria Garza

you asked her to go Halloween shopping since you wanted to decorate

got everything you laid eyes on

you had to stop her from buying three plastic skeletons because you joked about having an army of them in your backyard as decorations

she'll use her enemies bodies instead

doesn't let you put out candy on the porch, the last thing she needs is little kids coming up to her door and being loud

buys you bags of candy instead

regrets it because you get a sugar rush after eating a whole bowl

now she has a hyperactive toddler running around, spewing out random facts she found on YouTube

would make you try Mexican candy, definitely sneaks something spicy in there if your spice tolerance isn't high

"Que pasa? Can't handle the heat, muñequita?"

you hold a grudge for the rest of the night (she'll make you forget about it when she gets you in bed dw)

refuses to dress up, will punish you if you try and get a costume on her

will fold if you ask her to have matching costumes with her, still won't do it because she's "a grown woman"

takes candid photos of you in your cute little costume tho, she'll probably make one of them her background if she figures out how to

forces her men to dress up in whatever you want just to entertain you, they don't dare complain about it

the guards at your door are now dressed in Eminem and Christina Aguilera (don't ask me why)

will force you to have a scary movie marathon with her

laughs at you when you get scared and cling to her, literally calls you a crybaby and bullies you for being a scaredy cat

will snuggle you and kiss your forehead afterwards

"it's okay, mi vida, I'll protect you"

ordered her personal chef to make you Halloween themed cookies

practically folds when she sees your reaction

you get another sugar rush and she regrets everything (worth seeing your cute face and hearing your happy squeal)

Farah Karim

will plan your matching couple costumes since june

helps you thrift/craft yours and constantly compliments how you look in it

would definitely buy a ton of candy to give out to little kids trick-or-treating

is so happy when she sees their little costumes, practically heals her inner child

she has baby fever now, you have to remind her she can't get you pregnant

is searching up adoption details at 3 am after you fall asleep

helps you decorate, would definitely let you decorate since August just to see your cute face light up

adds more decorations every time she sees something you'd like and buys it

you made her watch Halloween movies with you

she judges everyone's decisions and logic

starts spewing an escape plan 5 times better and doesn't stop until she finishes it

is confused when you flinch at the scary scenes since she had seen it coming from a mile away

not surprised when you try to make sweet treats but you pull out questionable goop out of the oven

"i told you that's too much butter"

helps (pushes you to the side and only lets you crack an egg) you make an edible batch instead

lets you decorate them, you manage to make two piping bags explode before she takes over again

she hides the cookies before you get a sugar rush and/or a tummy ache

is confused as to how you found them and got both a sugar rush and a tummy ache

scolds you like a mom before taking care of you

you fall asleep in her arms on the couch, Friday the 13th playing in the background

she tucks you in bed and kisses your forehead before going to look up how to adopt a devil child

Kate Laswell x fem!reader

isn't the biggest fan of Halloween but she'd play along with you, she just wants to see you enjoying yourself

mom!Laswell would dress up at your request so you guys can have family costumes, melts at how cute you and your kid/s look together

but if it is just you and her she'd refuse

similar to Valeria, she says she's too old to dress up in silly costumes

the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips if you decided to wear a sexy costume before she rolls her eyes

proud mom smile while she takes candids of you in your cute little outfit, handing out candy to kids

so concerned when she hears about carving pumpkins

keeps a very very sharp eye on you, she doesn't want to go to the ER on halloween

helps you out when you get stuck, groans and pushes through if she starts struggling with it too

a sigh of relief leaves her lips when you finish your arts and crafts project

"it looks scary, darling" no it doesn't, but who is she to tell you that and ruin your fun

pulls out the old decorations box from the attic and helps you buy new stuff too, makes the plan on how to decorate

brings you to the halloween themed party TF 141 is holding so you can be chaotic with them while she drinks with Price

if she doesn't feel like it she'd just stay at home with you, watching you hand out candy to kids and cracking little jokes

her heart melts

refuses to let you watch horror movies, the last time you did she had to sing you a lullaby until you fell asleep

every day for a week; she also had to buy a night light because you got a random fear of the dark afterwards

you made her check the closet too

also limits your candy intake, would steal a few from your pile every once in a while and shrug when you frowned at her

candy corn enjoyer, also licorice fan

has you wrapped up in her arms, a blanket over the both of you while she tells you scary stories/ stories from her missions instead

Simon "Ghost" Riley

doesn't need a costume, he's dressing up as himself, the mask is scary enough as is

or he'd just take off the mask and say he's dressed up as Simon Riley, you call him a party pooper

you dress up as him just because you can

doesn't know if he should be upset or flattered, he's crying in his head at how cute you look with his oversized clothes and old balaclava

that's now his favorite balaclava

swaps out his mask for a balaclava so you guys can call yourselves Ghost Team

stares at you when you carve pumpkins with his throwing knives, you're lucky you're his favorite person

pries them out of your hands before you dull the blades and he has to work with oddly shaped spoons on missions

stands concerningly still on the porch and scares little kids when they come to knock on your door (like those decorations that move yk)

lets you hand out candy and coo at the little kids while he watches from the hallway (he thinks he's sneaky, he's not)

he now too has baby fever

will not mention it but you can notice him inching closer until he stands right behind you while you give out the candy, his hand wrapped around your waist

you both finish the leftover candy while watching scary movies

he feels like a little kid again, would never fess up about it being healing for him

picks out your favorite candy and gives it to you subtly, literally just makes a little pile of it in the middle while he eats the rest

would complain about you decorating since the beginning of september

has beef with a random skeleton you put up

"he's looking at me funny, luv"

picks you up while you decorate and can't reach a spot

he'd deal with the electrical decorations for you

you make him try a pumpkin spice latte

he tries so hard to be nice about it before saying he had enough sugar for the whole year

"this is milk and sugar with an idea of what coffee is supposed to be like"

cleans up the candy wrappers after you crash, takes a sneaky picture of you sleeping with his balaclava on

takes it off gently because you'd manage to suffocate in it, before tucking you in

Captain John Price

rakes up the leaves in the yard while you decorate the outside

he has to do it again because you insist on jumping in the piles and destroying his hard work

makes you help him gather the leaves again "to teach you a lesson", you never learn

picks the leaves out of your hair and dusts you off (all smiley when he notices you were wearing his flannel jacket)

doesn't want to dress up so you say that he's already wearing a capybara costume everyday

you have to explain what a capybara is

proud dad face when he sees you wearing your costume

makes you do a twirl and takes so many pictures of you so he can keep them and look at them when on mission

helps you hand out candy to the little demons

gets upset when a kid calls him 'grandpa', you have to spend at least 15 minutes telling him that he's a dilf not that old and still very attractive

dad face™ when he sees you giggling and playing around with the little kids, needs one of his own with you now

kinda sad that his job makes it so hard for him to have a cute little family with you

falls asleep on the couch while you give out candy, probably sitting up too, a bowl of candy in his lap

plays it off by saying he was just taking a little rest, you call him 'grandpa' again to tease him

doesn't notice you had been stealing candy throughout the whole night, managing to eat about an entire bag by the end of the day

holds you in his arms and tries to contain your sugar rush

you kick him where the sun don't rise on accident and that's when he lets you get your wiggles out, poor pop

you apologize by bringing him a drink and cuddling him for the rest of the night, consistently saying "sorry" every five minutes or so

"it's alright, darlin' "

you offer to share the leftover candy with him as a peace offering, pop is now a puddle

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

definitely has a dorky costume and makes you match with him

you and him have a competition about who has the better costume, he only lets you win because you're cute

still thinks his is better but he wants cuddles tonight and can't risk it

finds dumb decorations when you go shopping with him and when you tell him to put them back he sneaks them into the basket like a little kid

you wake up with the decorations in front of your eyes at the cash register and have to pay for them now

he insists on coming up with the most horrendous decorating schemes ever known to man, you follow some of them because he's sulking atp

tries to convince you to have some kind of small explosion "for effect", you turn it down because you don't want to get sued

frowns when kids get his costume wrong, chases them (playfully ofc) around to teach them a lesson

definitely scares you with every occasion he gets, you'd literally turn the corner and he'd just jump at you

you make him watch the actually scary movies because you're a horror enthusiast

"pff i've seen worse on the field" before clinging to your arm like the scaredy cat he is

carves pumpkins with you, oddly skilled at it

he helps you when your knife gets stuck in the pumpkin and your hand hurts from trying to dislodge it

blows up his pumpkin afterwards

takes couple pics with you, the sillier the better. they're his lockscreen now, will brag about them when he goes back to work

he'd try and go trick or treating before you tell him he's too old to do that

you spend the rest of the night on the couch, finishing off the leftover candy, the both of you hyperactive

would fight you because he likes the same candy as you, he wins and steals all of it

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

you make him dress up as spider man (that one mission in MW 2019), he's on board after a bit of convincing

only accepts because you promise to be his MJ

does the spider man kiss thing with you and takes pics, definitely brags about how easy it is for him to hang like that after all of those heli crashes

does whatever TikTok trend is popular at that time with you, tries to get it perfect so you can show it off to your friends afterwards

helps you choose decorations when you're being indecisive, also buys little things he thinks you'd like to add in the meantime

he'd 100% untangle the string lights while you put them up (also keeping an eye on the chair you're standing on so you don't fall)

you do actually lose your balance but he's quick on his feet and catches you, the most cocky smirk on his lips while you're blushing and your heart is beating so fast it might explode

he'd scare you too, just so he can make fun of you. also pulls random pranks on you and hides the decorations just so you can whine and complain to him

"I told you to stop being such a ditz, love" with the most loverboy grin on his face

you send him on a last minute errand to buy candy because the two of you only got your favorite kinds and you decided to hoard them for later

compliant boy, also buys you a fall themed drink on his way back

his hand is constantly around your waist or around your shoulders while handing out candy

would ask kids what they're dressed up as and gives the ones with cool costumes extra candy

you scold him for being unfair

you both decided to do a childhood halloween movie marathon, makes you feel like you're a little kid again

trades candy with you, tries to bribe you with cuddles to give him more of yours

cuddlebug!gaz who lets you fall asleep on his lap while he watches the rest of the movie (he stole the rest of your candy, your fault for letting your guard down)

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iridescentdove · 10 months

Text

Fyodor, Nikolai & Sigma w/ Elysia! Reader

Elysia is the Herrscher of Human Ego in Honkai Impact. She is a girl as beautiful as dancing petals, and holds the power which is comparable to a God itself.

Her personality is cheerful and sweet-loving, Elysia cares about her friends and everyone else dearly. She's elegant, unique, and is a person who enjoys everything.

Soukoku, Atsushi & Ranpo Ver. ♡ Port Mafia Ver.

FYODOR DOSTOVESKY:

Let's get one thing out the pocket first, i hate this rat mf to hell and beyond so let's start shall we? <3

GODDAMN THIS GIF MAKES ME PUNCH PUNCH

He's full of intrigue. Fyodor hasn't seen you yet in full action, and begins to question and anticipate the day he finally meets you face-to-face.

As a bitch man with a God complex, this dude would take it slightly lightly.

I mean, how much better could you be?

Could you really stand against him for long?

And to a much unexpected surprise, his imagination was far off from what he had thought.

How pretty you are. As you always described yourself 'a girl as beautiful as dancing petals', his pride made him not want to admit such...but he did agree later on.

What made him feel a change of emotion was how sweet and carefree you were. You're beautiful, and kind.

Maybe he began to think more differently.

He'd definitely tried to kill you with his ability the first time you met UGH THIS LITTLEPIECEOF–

You were obviously skeptical and sensed something from him, being as he was so keen on shaking your hand as you remained with a soft smile.

Fyodor anticipated you to die to the effects. To witness all the power he possibly had.

But fortunate to unfortunate, your demise never came.

That was when he began to observe you more. And to his own surprise, he fell in love. In no way did he expect to do so, and more importantly to a God. Impossible.

Fyodor witnessed your full power sooner or later, and your God Form that sent everyone levitating ABOVE FR

Every inch of you from top to bottom was perfect.

And so the obsession begins. He's definitely created his own cult or had worshipped you to no end. Fyodor won't stop praying no matter the time of day.

Waking up and going to sleep, before and after he eats, even when the slightest misfortune comes up.

He'll speak to you like you're not just a God. You're his God.

Fyodor slowly comes aware and accepts that you're like, probably over a thousands times stronger. But then again it doesn't matter anymore.

He just wants you to stay still, and be pretty.

Just seal it with a kiss <3

Fuckingholdmebackbeforeikillthisfucker,revivehim,andthenkillhimagainbecauseDAMNiwannastranglehim

NIKOLAI GOGOL:

Me to Fyodor: Ew fuck off

Me to literally Nikolai, Sigma & everyone else: Aww i love you guys sm and i'll do everything in my ability to make you happy and feel loved so have a cookie and my–

So, first of all, you met him while feeding the birds. It was a fun little hobby you were doing nowadays.

Plus, you loved animals! So why not?

Nikolai found himself staring at you the longer you kept at it, and took in your features that were so unique. He's never seen anyone like you around.

Dude tried to walk up to you and ask if you were real

We'd all know he ain't really sane so let's just say that the first encounter was a little strange. But still, you didn't back off and kept talking to him so...nicely?

Why? He found this curious, and had asked you a few things while talking. But then again, it didn't last.

Took you to Fyodor right after lmao

You'd told him barely a thing about your "ability", but he had that feeling it was nothing so normal. Plus why tf are you wearing such a revealing outfit...in summer.

Don't judge that's just Elysia's Pink Elf outfit bae

Thought Fyodor found you useful, although hesitated a bit for the first time ever. He, deep down, didn't want to involve you. And when Fyodor tried to use his ability on you..

It didn't work. This caused him and Sigma to really question your own existence knowing how it was impossible.

Then the big reveal. Nikolai grew fond of you. He, as seeing you were such a beautiful, powerful omnipotent God - never did he leave your side and continued worshipping you.

Oh, an your God Form? He lives for it, really. Finds you even more beautiful than you already are.

Nikolai loves touching your soft hair...and maybe something else that's soft- ahem

Someone insulted you? They went missing the next day! You're hungry? Suddenly there's food at your doorstep. You're buying new clothes? He's already there beside you.

Holding you against his chest, Nikolai's cold heart began seeking for the warmth known as you.

And no matter what, he's never gonna leave you <3

"Quiz time! Who is my one and only beloved?...Correct! Ahaha. I love you, (Y/N)."

SIGMA:

He's normally stoic around you, and acts just as how he does with everyone else. But oh, he's definitely not glancing at you every few minutes, admiring your beauty, looki–

Let's just say he's a bit more silent. He's definitely affected by you somewhat, and honestly who wouldn't?

You knew he owned a casino, so you began visiting.

Sigma had seen you walking up to customers and just chatting, being nice. Greeting them, and even offering a present you got on the way.

You were honest, and something so rare - so pure. It was so impossible to be innocent in this world.

But you proved him wrong in every way. No bad intention.

Sigma fell for you the moment it clicked. You're so pretty, so loveable, so sweet. And he didn't want to admit it but you're the only one brightening his day.

He looks forward to your visits at the casino, and even gets you a drink that's specifically for you - only for you.

It's a pretty, sparkly pink lemonade drink with a purple gradients - and sweet whipped cream. Topped off with (f/c) sprinkles and a small slice of lemon on the side.

He had named it after you. And you've never seen something so beautiful - you didn't even want to drink it.

During a mishap, you and Sigma had run into trouble. It was then occuring to you that he was hurt very badly.

You wanted nothing but to help him. Sigma had felt it, the full, extreme omnipotent power - only possible to be acquired as that of a true God.

Your God Form overwhelmed him to some extent, but he didn't care later on. You were breathtaking.

Since you loved humanity so dearly, he silently wished that you loved him as well.

Maybe his love even rivals your own.

A girl, more beautiful than dancing petals.

Sigma doesn't show it much, but he's awestruck. And with how deeply in love he is with you anyways, don't be surprised if you find yourself with a ring on your finger.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #honkai impact #elysia #fyodor dostoevsky #decay of angels #doa x reader #bsd sigma #nikolai gogol #fyodor x reader #nikolai x y/n #sigma x reader

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puppypuppypuppypuppy · 7 months

Note

How did your human spam and jevil meet?

OK. This took a while I had to scour the underground cave system of me and yashas dms to find all the relevant convos and such. I'll put them under a readmore bc. Yeah.

Also, the moment of first contact as depicted by the magnificent @naggingatlas

So, surrounding info: The au takes place in Hometown ofc. Eugene, after being released from jail (no murder here just manslaughter. he does tell ppl it was murder tho) has lived there for maybe like, 5 or 6 years (seam pulled some strings (hehe) to get him the place and peaced tf out) He's since been living as a hermit in the forest in this decrepit spooky house. He was once a prolific poet/philosopher/whatever and ig kind of still is? but he has a complicated relationship with his old work and resents how misinterpreted its been by the majority of his fans. His only real friend is dess. He's also a ukrainian immigrant, came to the us before the collapse of the soviet union. No desire to go back bc he had no attachments...

Meanwhile Esteban's deal is much more similar to canon... was once a big shot, the powers that be abandon him, he loses everything, now he's homeless, so it goes. He was once in a super bowl commercial with spuds mackenzie and is VERY proud of that fact, don't bring it up. At this point, h'ed been living in the streets of new york freakin city, too proud to go back home (el paso, texas, second generation mexican immigrant), getting by taking shady gigs and reselling garbage, scrap, old electronics, etc... One such gig being what brings him into hometown thus beginning our au. I've got some screencaps abt the gist of it all

(these are so funny bc some aspects of it get immediately retconned. also the reason I say he finds eugene familar is because they've technically "met" before multiple times in their lives just very informally. might go into that later idk)

(Here is where yashas images above the cut take place ^^)

(his door knocker is shaped like a dragon btw. very cool.)

(We wrote more of this encounter but frankly it's incomprehensible and this post is getting way too long just know that they're engaged in spamvil typical psychic warfare.) (it's like this.)

And thaaaat's basically it. Some details prone to change but overall this is how their first official meeting goes. Esteban comes by every day trying to sell shit but other things happen too like they go fishing, sit in a dusty abandoned car, smoke weed, eat cherries... .. ., lot's of fun stuff. Maybe I'll even make another post abt it if there's interest.

If you've read all of that have this in consolidation:

#stebjek #spamvil #sure.#this took way too long sorry... ill answer more asks soon but ill be sure to make them more brief

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not-goldy · 7 months

Note

Sometimes I wish Jimin stop being so secretive on cam and basically a wallflower. I wish he speaks up more and calls out BS immediately, especially during lives like JK/Tae or Joon does or is it because he doesn't get much wierd comments 🤔. Also stop being so fucking humble.. like sir you are a history maker, everything you release are organic hits, have a huge fanbase, your bdays are celebrated as Christmas day, why tf would you think you don't even deserve a music show win ?????? Own your success and skills please 🤧

And I also wish JK stop being so impulsive, saying and doing absolute dumbest things 🤧 sometimes he sounds like those cocky boys who will say they'll make you come thrice in a row and will climax within 2 seconds lol. He's so cocky; knows he's hot and his impact but at the same time he still don't know what he really needs. So I wish he becomes more mature and get his shit together asap

Maybe if they use share these qualities a bit with each other it will be fine lol. JK sharing some of his cockiness with Jimin so he can go 'yeah that me, Park Jimin' bitches 💅' and Jimin sharing some of his level headness with JK, so he can think before doing and saying some things 🥲

Idk how they are even navigating through their relationship when both are on opposite ends of attitude and lifestyles, like is that even possible ? Won't both parties get sick of each other soon? ... or maybe like you said JK is the freedom Jimin is craving for and Jimin is the leash JK very much needed 🤷‍♀️

Set me free was liberating for me and I think Jungkook too cos he stamped his approval on it like you could tell Jimin frustrates him sometimes with the kill them with kindness vibes he has going on.

And I know Jimin is not a push over too cos there's some really hard core ghettoness buried deep inside his slytherine heart- he is the master of self control cos I'll be getting canceled every second if I were him🥲🥲🥲

I'll be dropping mid night rants talking bout yall could never be me😭😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hash tag jealous

Hash tag up in your man's arms 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

And he lowkey be shading too but we don't talk about that🥲

He's constantly trolling haters posting Jungkook shirtless, leaning on him kissing up on him daring yall to come for Kook if he's your mans💔💔💔💔

This literally him on these streets he eats and wink

Shade is cool Jimin but throw the damn tree too🤣

They are both fascinating.

Oh lord not 2 seconds 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

You is going to hell for that😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Not gonna lie, I do enjoy his chaotic character most times. I'm big on diversity. If everyone acted the same way they'd be boring as hell plus I like my BTS a tad crackheads🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

JUNGKOOK'S a vibe. Not many idols like him. He be be tanking on the idol part sometimes- I don't think he even sees or thinks of himself as an idol😭😭🤣🤣

An idol is a whole personna carefully curated to appeal to an audience- when I tell you Jungkook ain't curating shit for no one and to please no one😭😭😭😭😭

Tell him to do aigoo I dare ya🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭😭

Sometimes I just play his memes and sleep. It's the new Netflix and chill for me.

Doesn't take himself too too serious, easy going non judgemental, quirky😭😭😭

And he is very relatable. We all don't say the right things all the time, or do the right things and overthink everything.

Some people don't find that attractive in Idols but I like it. That that I like that

Im a bit of a crack head myself so.... anywho

For an idol, yea perhaps he could be a bit more controlled and polished but not too much cos then he'd lose relatability and seem outta touch.

Frankly I think they are both perfect as they are💀

I wouldn't change much but you are right they both could influence eachother a bit and they do TRUST. 💜

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romanarose · 1 year

Text

Acts of Service with the Triple Frontier Boys

Triple Frontier Master List All fanfic masterlist

Physical Touch Word of Affirmation Quality Time

Just thoughts of how the TF boys express their love for you in acts of service. Let me know if you'd like to see the other love languages!

Warnings: Refernces to abuse in the past (v vague, brief), nightmares, drinking, sleeping issues, but it's mostly soft

***************

Will Miller

Will had gotten up at an ungodly hour. Well, he always did. Will got up before you, going for a run if the weather was nice, and working out in the basement if it wasn't. Today was one of those days. You stayed in bed sleeping until the alarm went off, it looked too cold and snowy out there. Then you hit snooze. and again. and again. and- OH SHIT! You're gonna be late. You always allot for hitting snooze up to five times, but you forgot about the cold! Scrambling out of bed, you quickly dress and head for the door, preparing to scrap ice off your freezing cold car and sit in it, knowing it wouldn't really warm up before you got to work. As you scramble out the door, wrapping your scarf around your neck, you suddenly realize why you didn't hear the familiar sound of Will's weights. The walkway, steps, and driveway were shoveled and salted, and your car had already had all the snow removed and ice scrapped. It was running (doors locked of course) and would be nice and warm for you. Shit, you had enough time you could stop at McDonalds for a McMuffin...

When Will came home that night, after a long day, he found the dinning room table set, wine on the table and a multiple course meal laid out before. He never did anything for something in return, coming home to you was gift enough, but nights like this, when he was tired and aching, knowing he had good food waiting for him at home made every aching step that much easier. Aw shit, you made pie?!?!?! You had that Miller sweet tooth wrapped around your pretty little finger

Francisco Morales

Frankie showed his love in small ways, things you never failed to notice. He was used to self-sacrifice, but with you, it didn't feel like a sacrifice at all. You always thanked him, verbally or with a smile when he opened the door for you, brought you coffee in the morning, or ordered for you when you were anxious (always remember exactly how you liked your burrito bowl). But what got you was years into the relationship. Frankie was in the bathroom when the food came, burgers and fries for everyone, and you snatched the pickle right out of his basket, and Benny made the comment "Damn, he must really love you if he lets you eat the pickle", to which you reply "Frankies doesn't like pickles?" This set off a chain of reactions from the boys, assuring you that no, no Frankie loves pickles, and always tries to steal theirs. If you weren't already married you would propose to him right there, as he exited the bathroom, shaking his wet hands and griping about no paper towels.

You wake up to an empty bed, and realize Frankie must've had a nightmare. You really wished he would wake you when this happened, but you knew it was hard for him to ask for help. You find him asleep on the living room couch, his comfort hat on as How I Met Your Mother played loudly in front of him, no doubt an attempt to stay away. Careful not to wake him, lest he never go back to sleep, you turn off the tv, pull a blanket over him, and put on a nightlight as you turned the lights off, just in case he had another one.

Benny Miller

"BENNYYYYYYYYYY" You shout loudly through your cell phone. "I know it's late but Uber's are like, $70 right now!"

"I'll be there in 10, honey"

Benjamin was there in 8. He picked you up, and all your friends. As you sat in the front seat, you watched as he helped them into their respective places. When asked how they all made it to bed alive after all that fireball, they told you how Benny (who they were all comfortable around, and who had asked before entering their homes) had held their hand as they got their heels off, had them each drink water, and chastely waited in the hallway until he was sure they safely in bed. You had woken up that morning with a raging headache and nausea, but promptly found a trashcan by your bedside. Benny came in when he heard you throwing up, entering with a slightly sarcastic, but none the less sweet "morn'n sunshine" He cleaned out the soiled trashcan, and spend the better part of the day taking care of you as you promised repeatedly to never drink again.

You wake up to your phone buzzing at 2 am, Benny gone from your bed, and his name lighting up your phone. "Benny? What's wrong?" Benny explains he couldn't sleep, a common occurrence for him, so he went for a run. Ben was prone to long bouts of depression, and thought he could just exercise them away. He found himself 2 miles down the road, unable to take another step. You hoped in your car, quickly parking and running to him as he lay sprawled out on the grass. He apologized for waking you, but said he just couldn't move. Something wasn't connecting in his brain. He felt exhausted despite running a forth of his usual. Drained. Taking off your flannel, you lay beside him and pull it over the two of you. 'It's okay, we'll lay here until you're ready'

Santiago Garcia

Santi was protective by nature. He kept you tightly around him at bars and crowds, unless of course you wanted to do something or talk to someone. He wouldn't stop you from doing stuff, of course, but if he could be there to protect you in any way you could. He'd pull you in away from the street when you walked so that you were on the inside of the sidewalk, cover the end of a table if you went over to grab something so you didn't hit your head, and if he stopped too fast to avoid an accident, his hand was always in front of you like a seat belt. There were things of course he couldn't protect you from, things that happened long before he knew you. But Santi was always there. Holding you every nightmare, taking you to every therapy appointment and going in with you if that'd what you needed, and letting you cry if you just needed to be sad. One day ou said you felt like you could scream, like something was clawing inside you. He drove you out to the beach, where no one was in January, and let you scream your lungs out as he stood with you in the cold.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine"

"Get your ass inside"

You had caught Santi bent over when you were bringing him lemonade as he mowed the lawn. Sitting him on the couch you bring out two packs of peas wrapped in towels, you prop his legs up on the coffee table you usually yelled at him to get his feet off, and handed him the lemonade and remote, going outside to mow the lawn for him, something you hated doing, but decided to try and at least help with from now on, since his knees seemed to bother him more.

******************

How you enjoyed! I love my TF boys <3

LMK if you'd like to be added or removed from my tag list! I decided I'll keep one tag list for triple frontier, and one for moon knight, so if you only want to be on one or the other!

@welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @kittyofalltrades @luciannadraven33 @littlenosoul @jake-g-lockley @milkymoon2483 @in-between-the-cafes @howaboutcastiel

#triple frontier #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #benny miller #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #will miller #pedro pascal #frankie morales #santiago garcia x reader #benny miller x reader #will miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fluff #fluff #comfort

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nrdmssgs · 4 months

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Darker matters (part 9. final)

Masterlist Previous part

Angst with fluff finally Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: When coming home becomes the hardest part Warnings: Swearing AN: This is the end of the story. However, there will be an epilogue for those of you, who wants fluff.

Thanks: This chapter is my tribute to a few very important people. I know, nobody reads this part, but it's important for me. @pale-elysium thank for supporting me this much and telling me these beautiful words. @sofasoap and @homicidal-slvt thank you for gifting me Nikolai. @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot you actually inspired me for this story. @preciouslittlecreature I see you, I love you. @siilvan I owe you Niks last story. This is my attempt to hug each of you through the screen.

If there is anything that helped keeping soldiers away from an improvised interrogation room more efficiently than Sedmis blood-curdling shrieks, it is Ghost's figure towering next to the door. Chimeras, who are careless enough to pass him by, look away hastily and don't risk slowing down, even though everybody wants to know what exactly their commander is doing to her enemy. Maybe it is Ghosts mask, maybe it's the way he stood absolutely still, but something cold and inhuman drives everyone away from him and the room he guards.

When Zhar exits the room - she wipes a completely clean knife mechanically. She hears Ghosts voice, but can't make out what exactly he says, so she answers the first thing that comes to her mind, hoping that it would make sense.

“He's ok. Vocal fucker, but I made sure, he's surviving it.”

With each next step, the buzzing in her ears becomes more potent, and the light coming through open doors feels almost too bright. Olga still smiles, and hopes that it looks more or less convincing. When they step out of the main base building, she hides her eyes under the shadow of her hand and leans against the wall.

“Ok, Lieutenant, it's high time you go home - I'll take it from here.” Her throat is soaring, so the last words are being coughed out instead of spoken properly.

“Like that's going to happen,” mutters Ghost and commands Zhar to follow him, but she doesn't move.

“Go, Ghost. Please. I need a break. Getting embarrassingly old.” She tries to play it off, but Ghost turns back and reaches out to her side.

“You're bleeding out. Wait here, I'll get us a transport.”

Olga touches the area, where she felt his palm just a second ago, and winces - her gear is slowly soaking in blood. Her legs beg her to give up and sit, but she remains standing. Minutes drag painfully slow, but a mere thought of what would Price have thought, should Simon ever tell him about her current state, keeps Zhar on her two.

She doesn't bother asking, where is Ghost taking her - just lets her mind slip down the delirious slumber. He also prefers to remain silent, and Olga fights the urge to say out loud all the things her conscience is screaming deep inside her head.

“I`m sorry, you had to witness that.”

“I never wanted you to become a part of this mess.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“I would never harm Christine.*”

Zhar eats up every phrase, not letting them escape her lips, when suddenly Ghost does something almost unnoticeable, but loud enough to outvoice the raging swarm of her thoughts.

Music starts playing quietly and gently. Just as it used every time, when they ended up in the same car, back when she was in the TF. The Sergeants were usually sent to the back seats, so that they wouldn't fight for the power over the radio. Lieutenants slowly came back to normal to the sounds of their ‘lame elderly lullabies’ as Soap called almost everything they could catch on a classical radio station. It was soothing. Like in the good old days.

Olga watched indifferently as the landscape outside the window was changing. By the time Ghost parks the car near the hospital, she is barely awake. By this point there is only one desire left for her - to close her eyes and sleep so long, that the events of the last few weeks feel like one long dream. She almost gives in to the weariness, but medical personnel gathering around, helping her out of her gear and settling her on the operating table, keeps distracting her.

Zhar doesn't recognize how much time passes before the bright light above her goes out and the buzzing of voices fades away. Could be a few minutes, could be hours as well.

The next time she opens her eyes - Olga finds herself on a hospital bed in a dark room. The only source of light is a soft light of a smartphone display lighting Simon's face, as he types something hastily.

“Tell her, I say ‘hi’.” Zhars voice is sleepy and wooly.

Ghost raises eyes on her and stands from his chair.

“‘Her’? I'm writing Nik, you're ok.” Simon steps to the window and slides the curtains, letting warm sunlight in the room.

Zhar frowns: she became so used to the thought, that Nikolai is nowhere around, that for the whole day she thought of anything but him. Every smallest detail of the operation, alternative timings for every step of every her soldier, names, paths, numbers of supplies - her mind was flooded with so many things, that she almost forgot, what was it all for. Olga thought of how they usually orchestrate the reunion scenes in films: characters run into each other's arms, hug, cry, hold each other as if the world around just stops. She gave Nikolai nothing, not even a simple ‘hello’. No matter, how many Sedmis cries of pain still echoed in her mind - they were not loud enough for her to not remember his last words.

“...not a human anymore, not even a creature - this one is just a mold.”

Maybe he is right and there is nothing human left in her - only soulless numbers, plans, names swarming her head, making her body move, imitating a life.

“Docs want to keep you till morning. But I know, you're sneaking out as soon as I leave you. So I suggested Nik to send someone here for you. Let's hope he doesn't trust all vital issues to a talking tablecloth, unlike somebody…” Ghost's voice drags her back to reality.

“Looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Olga chuckles, “Come on, I owe Sebastian big time.”

“That bandage, he tinkered, was holding just on his ego and your power of will, Commander.” Ghost puts the phone in his pocket. “Ok, show me your wallet.”

Surprised by a rather unexpected request, Zhar reaches out for the jacket, hanging next to the bed and doesn't even manage to squeak, when Ghost takes it and puts it in the same pocket, where his phone is.

“Said, you are going to sneak out, never said, I'd let you rent a car and drive back home on your own in this state…” Simon claps his pocket and looks around.

“And what if I get hungry?”

“Want me to bring you a Happy Meal, soldier?” If Olga could bet money on how vide Ghosts smile under the mask was - she would bet on ‘a shit eating grin’.

“Lieutenant, with all due respect: go fuck yourself.”

“Glad, you're ok.” Ghost turns to the door.

Zhar barely manages to throw him her last ‘thank you’ before he disappears, as swiftly and unexpectedly, as he came this morning to her comms station.

***

She can't fall asleep on the way back: it's high time, all the sedatives and analgesics kick in, but something keeps her wide awake. At the first hours of the ride it just irritates her, but with every next fruitless attempt to relax and let herself rest, the anger grows stronger. It makes her miss her driver's questions and remarks, it speeds up her heart, it awakes some animalistic feeling - a fear.

It is not fueled by anything going on. The feeling just appears somewhere deep in her guts. By the time, they are approaching Nikolai's house in the darkness of the deep forest - it eats her alive.

Zhar gives up and commands the driver, Nik sent to pick her up, to stop the car and let her walk the last kilometer.

“You're sure?” The driver hesitates, because he still remembers how persistent Nikolai was when he explained where exactly this woman should be delivered.

“I know this road as a beggar knows his bag, darling.” Olga exits the car and steps out of the headlights.

Each next step towards Nikolais' house is harder than the last one. The most obvious reason for that is the fact that Olga walked this road a thousand times in her dreams, while Nik was captured. Each dream ended the same way: she entered a cold, abandoned house. Each little detail of its interior brought her nothing but pain and terror: the kitchen sink, where Nikolai once cleaned her hand, after she accidentally cut herself, the sofa, where he lulled her to sleep, the fireplace, he lit in the evenings so she could sit on the floor for hours, peering out of the panoramic windows. All these details felt orphaned, dead without him. Although she knows, these were just dreams - her mind slowly erases a phantom border between nightmares and reality.

By the time his house appears from behind the trees, Olga is sure she won't be able to force herself to just cross his threshold. And that is when she feels someone's gaze on her back. She stops on her tracks, freezes, a wave of shiver runs down her spine.

Suddenly, her mind goes blank: Zhar forgets everything besides two bright pictures. The first one is the heavy blizzard, a greyish snow cloud chasing her back in Russia many months ago, when she just started working for Nikolai. The other one is silver-blue eyes, cold as that blizzard, piercing right through her, and a knife pressed against her neck.

“For fuck's sake,” she mutters and takes out the gun, stepping on a wooden patio in front of Niks house.

She turns back and points her gun at the deep darkness. As much as she doesn't want to admit it - she doesn't see her enemy, doesn't actually see anything in the middle of the night in the heart of the forest.

Zhar takes a step backwards, then another and another one, until her back is pressed against the wall.

“You want him - you will have to go through me!” Her voice is weak, her hands are trembling.

Olga slowly sinks to the ground, tears run down her cheeks, but she doesn't let herself get loud, sobbing as quietly as she can. She can't see a thing in a dense depth of forest, but she is certain that the man she once made a pact with, is now back to claim whatever she hasn't paid him.

She doesn't notice a thin line of light running over the wooden floor and becoming thicker, doesn't hear Nikolais approaching steps - just keeps muttering ‘me, not him’ over and over, searching for the enemy.

The first moment he sees her, Nik feels relieved: there she is, finally close enough to reach out and touch her. But then he notices a gun in her hands, shiny traces on her cheekbones, and his heart shrinks. Throughout many years of service, both official and private, he saw the same things happening to others. The terror in their eyes, the inexplicable desire to keep fighting, although the battle unravels only in their heads.

He tries to not think about all the times, when such soldiers were left alone and found too late, when he slowly descends on his knees next to her.

“I… I'm coming in soon, Nik. I just need a minute.” Olga whispers, not even looking at him.

“You see anyone there?” Nikolai leans closer, partly to be able to react fast enough, should things go south, partly because he missed everything about her and would give anything just to feel her proximity.

“Go back inside, Nikolai, please.” She sniffles and fights the shiver growing stronger and taking over her whole body.

“Nebo, posmotri na menya*. Nobody will dare to come here today. Not after you brought them hell.” Slowly, and very softly, he reaches for the gun in her hands and takes it away, trying not to make sudden movements. Although it's obvious, Zhar doesn't like what he is doing, she forces herself to sit still and not fight him.

They remain silent for the next few long minutes, Niks forehead pressed against her temple, his warm breath tingling her face. If she wasn't obviously freezing, Nikolai could easily spend the whole night there: sitting close, breathing in her scent, watching the heartbeat pulsing on her neck. So he reaches out to take her in his arms.

“Let's go home, love.”

That's the second time, when something stings Nik painfully from the inside. When he picks her up - he feels how unnaturally, unhealthy lightweight she became. She doesn't answer him or react, when he carries her inside. It is only when he sits on the couch with her in his hands - Zhar snaps back to reality. Her gaze grows focused, she looks around, and her eyes freeze, meeting his - she grabs onto his shirt as if she's afraid of losing him then and there.

Olga tries to say something, anything, really, but fails. Her lips part, but no words escape. Instead, she inspects him: her fingertips slowly brush down Nikolais ribcage and pause over every bruise and stitch that wasn't there before.

“Just a scratch,” calms her down Nik every time, but her face only darkens, and he decides to change the topic.

“Khoroshaya moya*, you're too far away, still out there, at Sedmis base. What can I do to make you come back to me? How can I help?”

Zhar doesn't move, sitting perfectly still in his hands, as the tight knot in her chest slowly unravels with each beat of her heart. She looks somewhere through him, and when she finally answers - Nikolai feels as if all the oxygen was suddenly deflated out of his lungs.

“Cast me out, Nik.”

He would have felt better, had she hit him, or shouted and blown his house to bits. It takes Nik a lot of self-control to remain visibly calm.

“You… don't want to be in Chimera? Love, we will think of some-”

“No, you didn't get me. Cast me out. Banish me from your life. I can't do this on my own - need your help. Please, before it becomes too hard. You'll be better without me.”

Nikolai feels completely lost: somehow each clarification only confuses him more. He hears his own heart racing as he tries to muster the right answer.

“Before it becomes too hard? Let me tell you something. Share my perspective, so to say, ok?” He brings her head to rest on his chest and continues talking.

“For a long time I was ok with that little furious treasure not letting me anywhere near her. After all, we can't be everybody's favorite, yeah? So when Price called me and said ‘I need a fixer for her’ - I awaited not more than just a boring mission, where the most entertaining part would be staying alive under all her death glares.

“But she turned out to be ok - buried the hatchet for the sake of her Cap. We even made quite a team, it was fun to run around together, shaking off the tail, fighting back. But I forgot all the fun the very next moment after they set her on fire. She looked so helpless in my hands, as I tried to put it out. A once tough and strong soldier, lying before me as a lifeless puppet - my blood still runs cold every time I remember that view.

“Then she fought the pain. The medic, I found for her emergently, kept repeating, she needed general anesthesia, but we didn't have time to transport her to the hospital. I remember telling him, ‘this girl is a die-hard - she is going to make it’. And she did. Cried so loud, it must have hurt like hell, but she did it. I was proud, when it all was over, and I carried her to her bed - I felt euphoric, as if I was high. All because she made it through.

“Later that night, she got delirious and forgot for a few hours that she never spoke Russian to me. She was telling me the most beautiful words, I have ever heard. Said ‘Ne ostavlyai menya*’ and ‘ty mne nuzhen*’. Nothing special, maybe, but these words got stuck in my head so deep, I kept replaying them in her voice over and over for months. And then I decided, I was willing to risk it all just to hear more.

“The rest is history: the second operation, the success, her return to the base, our chats, occasional phonecalls, me showing her every smallest detail of my iron bird, her sharing little stories and memories… When I took her with me for a little vacation - I knew that I would either return from it as hers, or with a broken face. I couldn't believe my luck, when she let me into her life, not as just a friend.

“Still remember our first night together, when she drifted to dreams in my hands and I just couldn't bring myself to sleep. That was when I asked myself, what was the exact moment, she really got me all to her mercy.”

All the time, Nikolai was talking, his hands kept stroking Olgas head and back, but now he stops doing that.

“It was long before that night, before our little escape, even before all these months of her healing. She got me on my knees a long time ago… Her ‘I need you’ mesmerized me, won me fully. It may have been too hard to deny her back then. But now? Nebo, now it's not too hard - it is impossible.”

Olga listens carefully to every word and even to the silence, following his story. It would be so easy if she could let herself just shut her mouth and call it a night. But if there is one person, she really owes a confession - it's Nikolai.

“I failed you.”

She doesn't wait until he starts protesting and admits everything. She tells Nik, how lost and useless she felt on the first days after his capture, how she couldn't manage many conflicts boiling up in the Chimera, how she lost people, how she sacrificed her own home. Not long before the rescue mission she almost wished she could go alone, just to end everything at once - and Olga confesses even that.

“... I did unspeakable things, Nik. I was ready to sacrifice the whole Chimera, I risked Ghosts life, I turned lives of an innocent woman and her child into a forever nightmare. And the worst part is that I would do this all again without a second thought, should it be for you. I'm not a soldier after that - just some sick twisted mind.”

Nikolai touches his lips to Zhars forehead and frowns - she's running hot, must be the fever after everything, she put her body through.

“What did they do?...”

Olga doesn't understand, what exactly Nikolai means by that and starts recounting losses incurred by the Chimera, but he cuts her off with a more specific question.

“What did they do to my girl? My beautiful treasure, my sky and my heaven. Tormented, worn out, blinded by this shitshow.” His hands snake up her back, shoulders and neck, and lift her face, so that she can't escape his gaze.

“They did nothing.” She shakes her head and smiles ruefully. “There was no girl, sky or heaven from the very start - I was the shitshow, the problem itself. And when you were gone - I caused nothing but damage. I just needed time to realize that.”

Nikolai understands that this is not her speaking now - this is the enormous stress she's been living in since his capture, this is her fever, weariness after all. PTSD hits hard, especially, when it comes to those, who never unwind after the missions, never let out the steam.

“You did this all to get me back. Crossed so many lines not for your egoistic interest, but for a living breathing human being, you care about. And you still weigh the morality of everything you`ve done.” He cradles her gently, fingers stroking her hair as he whispers. If he has to repeat it for a million times this night to fight her doubts off - Nik is ready to tell her again and again, that she did nothing wrong.

“I'm no better than Sedmi, or Makarov or any other fucked up mind - didn't even need much time to commit the same sins as them.”

Nik notices how her breathing becomes deeper, and her pulse slows down a little. He begins to speak very quietly so that she listens and calms down with his voice.

“I'll tell you a little story, put you to sleep and then in the morning you decide, if you want to stay here, ok?”

She nods, and Nikolai goes on.

“Many years before you joined Prices group, a soldier came to me with a question. I'm not sure if he was thinking about joining the Chimera, but nevertheless, he asked me what can I tell him about the specifics of working for… a private military company.

“I advised him to not step in that direction ever. Because that world is full of darker matters. Disgusting characters and deeds that you suddenly have to tolerate. But the worst part is that you yourself have to become a darker matter. You do things you never would have done before… Cross all the lines, even those, you specifically drew yourself earlier. At the end of the day you can't even say, you fought the evil - you are trapped with it.

“That guy already burned the candle at both ends - I'd hate seeing him gone because of the metamorphosis, one has to live through in our line of work. Not saying, he wasn't fit for work. I just wasn't sure, he had this personality, that would let him see the ugly truth in the mirror and still keep going.”

Olga chuckles to herself, but it doesn't go unnoticed.

“You don't believe me?”

“I do.” She relaxes, letting herself put a bit more weight on his chest. “I do, it's just funny how your words haven't scared that soldier altogether. He chose the right path, yet never turned away from his friends, who-”

“And what if you chose right too, luybimaya*?”

Zhar holds her breath. It's a sucker punch to call her like that, when she just asked him to let her go. Nikolai knows it, but he's ready to call her anything, to confess and give her anything to keep Olga by his side. And it works. Because the next thing Nik hears finally brings him peace, it brings her back in his life.

“I chose you, don't care if it's right or wrong. Ty mne nuzhen.”

I would never harm Christine. - Here Olga refers to Christine Riot Vega, the OC of @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot and Ghosts partner

Nebo, posmotri na menya. - Look at me, heaven

Khoroshaya moya. - My dear

Ne ostavlyai menya. - Dont leave me

ty mne nuzhen - I need you

luybimaya*- My love

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lurkingteapot · 6 months

Text

Last Twilight ภาพนายไม่เคยลืม Ep 3

it has been a WEEK but like the last two weeks, this one also ends on a P'Aof show, so all is well. Quick and dirty episode liveblog, you know the drill.

oh I love this montage

omg I actually laughed out loud when Mawk dinosaur roared

they look like they were having so much fun

I know we've been discussing slash smiling at the attempts to make Jimmy look rough, but just now I realised-- Mawks haircut looks cheapish, too.

what's Mawk looking at, I wonder. Going through Day's pictures? not cool, dude

they've done so much to make this house more accessible for Day in so few days!!

can they not talk about him like he's not there?

well ma'am you're the ones who broke that convo before he even had a chance to eat

oooh okay at least he wasn't checking his messages

I love Phawjai so much

okay I lied last week, I forgot to spell him Mhok and I probably will forget again

I'm with Mawk on this one, that's tooth-rotting

ooh this is a good look on him, damn. he should have his hair up like that all the time.

HERE WE ARE the "do you like [thing/person]" just hits different in languages where "do you like" does not require an object (which I just realised works in colloquial English, but ANYWAY)

wtf guys, did his family tell them THAT was the reason?!

his family may be failing him, but he has SO much support when he lets people in!!!! I'm tearing up here

oooh Jimmy has taken a level in Ohm (lessons in looking at his acting partner like he's his whole world)

the way Mawk just casually went to block folks view of Day!!!

they're FLIRTING I love this

they're totally gonna walk into a classmate of his or something

of course it's gonna be Oishii 😂

Mawk's posture here hurts me just to look at. Lift that sternum, dude!

TICKETING MACHINES!!! MTR hello hello

More flirting!

oh okay we're in ep 3 we're getting INTO it, I like this

Mawk being very bisexual and awkward right now and I'm here for it

oh, I love that Day's starting to see some … humour? light-heartedness in the situation.

the music is really taking this over the top right now, I expect a mood breaker right about now

it didn't?? I'm DELIGHTED

oh I want to go to this bookshop. doesn't look like used books but hey

found itttt :D good job Mhok

adsfasdfasdf I love this dude

oh so this is how he ends up in the street again?

oh nooooo

also Mawk? I get it, but you're on the clock goddamnit

shit, poor Day

Mawk … weren't you still on probation?

oh shoot oh shoot oh shoot

of course Day's phone is in Mawk's bag

Mawk, why aren't YOU asking people?

and Day, how is he going to find you if you keep moving?

ah phew

he put on the pink shirt!!!! easier to see!!!!

terrible colour on Jimmy, I'll give Mawk that

Mawk's gonna tell him himself, isn't he?

of course he is, that's the kind of person he is

ILU Day

Mawk falling in love a little more with every word Day speaks

god the lighting here washes Night tf OUT

oh, this is big for Day, I think. Mawk thanking him.

I will never get used to outdoor clothes on the bed, even less ones that he fell down in the street in

reading!!

adfasdf the casual intimacy of telling someone ฝันดี /fǎn diː/ (cue Tilly Birds, Just Being Friendly: เพื่อนอะไรบอกฝันดีก่อนนอน )

I wonder whether they'll get into the whole, uh, what's a responsible relationship for them to have? thing, but. right now I'm just glad they have it

Film's character!!!

A SLEEPOVER??? oh no how do I wait a week

#last twilight the series #last twilight #ภาพนายไม่เคยลืม #last twilight ep 3 #bl watch liveblog #my nonsense #q

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moonyheartache · 2 years

Text

So, the brain worms ara at it again and I thought "haha Merlin AU where not only Arthur returns but also Gwaine bc the whole «courage, strenght and magic» thing"

Me inmediatly also thinking about "well then maybe Lancelot should come back too"

You know, to spice things up

And then somehow it evolved into all of them returning from the dead

Like, every other week some dude sprouts from the ground like a daisy and the authoroties are already dialing Merlin's number.

He obviusly has a house in the forest.

Merlin still has to work so imagine all 6 idiots being left alone in a closed space

Like imagine them getting hungry and then trying to figure out how an oven works so they can cook a chiken

Arthur: well Merlin always gets the food from the bridge-

Elyan: fridge

Arthur: that thing

Gwaine: I don't think this chiken is good, it's all frozen over

León: maybe we can use fire to heat it up?

Percival: I think we can use the oven to do that

Lancelot: I know where Merlin puts the matches

Gwaine: ok great, how do we turn it on

Dead silence

Fifty minutes and nearly three explosions after Merlin comes back from work to find them sitting in the forest floor with a small fire going on so they can eat

"Why is Elyan crying?"

After maybe a month or so they learn how tf the T.V. is supposed to work

No, it's not magic. Yes Percival I checked. No Arthur it isn't alive. Yes I'm a 100% sure of it

They decided not to watch the news anymore after Arthur almost had an Aneurysm

"At least the cat is doing his job"

Cue to more shenanigans since they happen to land on "Young Sheldon"

Merlin is starting to realise this may have been a mistake.

He is really starting to regret it when they discover "F.R.I.E.N.D.S"

He really hopes they don't find out about the other Sheldon.

They definetly freaked out about cars

Like an actual lot

Lancelot thought they were alive

He got bullied for that

Whoever introduced Gwaine and Percival to donuts, they don't realise the caos they ensured.

Let's not even talk about "Hawaian Pizza"

Arthur says that when he is king again he will ban it forever.

Lancelot doesn't mind it (almost gets bullied again)

Surprisingly Leon likes it

Actually gets bullied

"Guys don't be mean it's not so bad" "Percival not you too"

Merlin has no coments in the situation

Also, angst time ;)

They go to the zoo

Both Elyan and Gwaine hate the reptile house

Gwaine had a panic attack

They go to the museum

Lancelot discovered that he was supposed to be a french prince

Gwen's dress was in exibit

Percival wants to punch the guide in the face

They go to Merlin's work

It's a bookshop

Turns out he owns the bookshop

"Merlin I can't read this" "Sounds like a you problem" "MERLIN-"

I'll let the shenanigans up to you

When they finally learn enough to get a job

Lancelot and Arthur work at the same coffee shop

Somehow Arthur became the manager

"I want yo speak to your manager" "Ma'am please don't-" "What do you want bitch"

Karen vs. Karen

Elyan works with Merlin, he likes the quiet

Gwaine is a mascot for s fast food restaurant

Percival got a job at a restaurant as the delivery boy

And don't ask him how because he doesn't know the answer but Leon gets a job as a Taxi driver

He doesn't want to talk about it

Fun fact, Aithusa can speak now, barely

So when he was coming to visit one night he sees Leon chillin on the porch and decides to greet him

Now imagine a "I haven't drink water in 3 years" voice convined with a VERY HIG VOLUME and the utter darkness areound + Aithusa is very sneaky

"Greetings Sir León" "JESUS BLOODY FUCK"

He threw a few more colorfull insults he learned from his job

After (a lot) calming down and (also a lot) catching up the knights come to the realisation than Merlin saved their asses in múltiple occasions

Like, it's actually ridiculous

"I always knew"

Merlin: don't think too much about it

All the knights: No, I think I will

Now they want to AT LEAST do something nice for him

You know, for saving their literal lives, multiple times

So Elyan, Lancelot and Arthur are working to sneak out a lot of pastries form the coffe shop

"We were goin to throw them out anyways"

The thing is, tho, that they don't know that Leon, Gwaine and Percival are actually doing something similar

"Won't your boss suspect when a bunch of fruit is suddenly gone?" "Shut up and drive"

Cue to being too much food

"You guys realise that we don't need this much food right?" "It's for you" "Well actually I don't mind sharing"

It's the thought what matters

I'm gonna make a post when all of them discover what a phone is

#bbc merlin #package deal AU #arthur pendragon #sir leon #sir lancelot #sir percival #sir gwaine #sir elyan #percival #gwaine #lancelot #bbc elyan #leon #bbc arthur #merlin emrys #merlin is tired ™️#aithusa #modern au #package deal au is a good name I won't take critisism

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gaoau · 5 months

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smth smth uhhh tsurune character analysis time wsg

i've never done this before in my life and i shouldn't even be doing it cause that's crazy tf BUT hi :blush: i'm Kisaragi Nanao's number one fan and hater simultaneously and i need to talk about it. chances are none of this will make the slightest bit of sense, cause thinking about his brain for more than five minutes usually has me going around in circles like a headless chicken. its been almost a year and i have not been able to stop thinking about him, not even in my most trying times so i might as well do the one thing i'm good at and write each and every single one of my thoughts down so the void can eat them all up. my friends are tired of hearing me talk about this so now its your turn, people in the tsurune but more specifically the Nanao tag on tumblr dot com. i'll try to avoid the Kaito talk as much as i can cause i wanna make this solely about Nanao, but i also understand that a lot of their character development goes hand in hand with one another, so it's sort of inevitable

to be completely honest, i wanted to be a Ryohei girlie so bad, i would've even settled for Seiya. i just knew the moment Nanao pulled up and was presented as the flirty annoying playboy, i wouldn't like him. i said it with my whole chest, firmly believing i would find absolutely no reason anywhere in his character to enjoy him. motherfucker i have never been more wrong in my life. at first glance, it doesn't even look like there's much to talk about, cause he doesn't do a whole lot in the first season. except he does. there's only snippets of depth in his character that exist, but he does not let show in order to watch over everyone around him. his introduction is loud and frivolous, especially with one of his first spoken sentences being about his "hakama beauty."

sure, he's good at kyudo, but he's not particularly excellent nor passionate about the sport. this, however, is not true, which builds up in his character as the first season progresses and eventually overflows in the second season. for a character that, in universe, is shown to be in the spotlight consistently ever since he was a child, he's none of that on the range, because that isn't his place. his position on the range is not as important as it is outside of it; he is the yonteki, he is neither at the beginning nor the middle nor the end, he cannot show off, he cannot be the centre of attention as he tends to be. it's true that he attracts a lot of attention and plays into it naturally, because he enjoys it and extroverts, however unfortunate, do exist, but he knows when to take a step back and when to go all out.

there's something i can't ever seem to quite put my finger on. although he is naturally easy-going and playful, this is only a ramped-up front he uses to watch from the back. it's like he's hiding, like he's staying nonchalant and uncommitted so things wash over him. he's blunt. he's so blunt. he really doesn't sugarcoat things, he just doesn't say them until he needs to. i don't wanna call it manipulation, cause that's got a rather negative connotation, but i do wanna call it manipulation, cause that's what it is. he knows how to manipulate responses and reactions with how easy he reads the people around him, and he uses all of that in a very level-headed way to keep peace, though it's always mainly Kaito. it's as if people are malleable to him. it's in the way he pulls Ryohei into doing that whole charade to get Kaito to like Minato, in how he straight up tells Kaito "yeah, it's cause you're being annoyingly tsundere, we're just giving you a push," or in how he tells Minato "yeah, Kacchan don't like you, but he's working on it."

he knows, he's watching, and he's making sure everyone is being accounted for without meddling too much. he sets things into motion with the right push, but he stays out of it, uninvolved. he keeps going on and on about how he's only doing kyudo with nothing but simple bull-headedness, like it doesn't matter all that much, like he can just shrug things off and let Kaito's impulsive comments not get to him. he plays it off, he plays everything off, leaning into that flighty, frivolous prince charming persona, but at the end of the day, he's the most mature and emotionally intelligent of the bunch.

most of his development is built around connections. whenever Kaito reminds him that he is not taking kyudo seriously, that kyudo is not a game, that kyudo is more than just fun and looking pretty in hakama, Nanao keeps quiet. it's something he knows very well, because none of those are any of the reasons he ever picked up a bow in the first place. he has been watching over Kaito since they were children, going so far as to follow him into kyudo and into the same high-school. however, this is something that Kaito does not recognize for the longest time—not until Nanao actively blows up on him and spells it out for him. Nanao doesn't need for his efforts to be recognized, because he is only doing it to keep peace and read everyone carefully—not only Kaito—to figure out what makes who tick.

he supports his buddies from the back and intervenes only when it's necessary. he aims to please without being self-abandoning; he keeps true to his own self while being a perfect fit for everyone. despite claiming his reasons for shooting are frivolous and superficial, Nanao has an understanding of what sets the people around him off that makes keeping him around necessary, because he shoots for Kaito and now for this team, rather than the target in front of him. he knows, he's so perceptive of it all. there's a scene stuck in my head where Ryohei tries to speak up about the whole Seiya-Nikaido interaction that was bugging him, but he ended up going back on it last minute, and Nanao straight up went "bro, either you commit to it or don't talk."

idk!! call it his big brother instincts, cause that's another thing. things do kinda make a lot more sense when you consider that he is the only one out of everyone in the club (that we know of, cause there's not much about my girls) who is an older sibling. Kaito has two older sisters, Seiya has an older brother, Ryohei has an older sister, and Minato is an only child. Nanao is the only big brother. god i'm losing my fucking mind.

i called him loud and i'll keep calling him loud, but in all honesty Nanao is a lot more silent than he seems. he flirts with his fanclub and attempts it too with the girls in the club, he is quite loud with his "Merha!", he pushes and prods all around with funny comments because, at the end of the day, he is still an entertainer, a mood-maker, and most of all, he's a child. he's still a fifteen-year-old kid that's just dicking around with his friends cause it's not that deep. he's a kid. however, he is consistently reading everyone around him, keeping peace from behind them, working his way around everyone’s quirks and kinks. he's been somewhat forced into this caretaking role, taking comments like "it'd be nice if you and Kaito went to the same school so you can keep him in check" to heart. he too wishes he could be there for his cousin to reel him back in when he steps out of line. and he does, he tries, being the first one to react and try to pull Kaito back before he can bash Minato's face in.

he does things carefully in a way that won't put pressure on anyone other than himself, watching and watching and watching and being so hypersensitive to the smallest of mood changes from anyone. that one little sigh Ryohei gave, to which he immediately went, "what's wrong?" while nobody else batted an eye. when he is the one whose patience finally runs thin, he confronts Kaito about it with truths he has never needed to explain because Kaito would not have been able to digest them properly, and Nanao has always known.

he competes not to win, but to keep up, to stay with his cousin and his team; not approaching a sport with a competitive mindset would be a hindrance to the team, which does not mean he is competitive himself. and he loves kyudo, too, just as much. his expressions and mannerisms are subtle and soft in a way that anyone would miss, but he is happy to see the people that surround him stay on track, with or without his help.

i lose my train of thought every time i start a new sentence cause there's so much i have to say about Nanao. there's a crazy amount of points i go over in my head time and time again. the fact that his hit rate is so consistent, enough to keep up with Kaito and almost with Seiya. how he does not give one flying fuck about Noririn, but he indulges Daigo anyway cause it's fun and it works and he's got nothing to lose by showing a little bit of interest in some guy's idol obsession. how he was watching from the outside, because Kaito never told him what happened with Masaki or why he suddenly wanted to start kyudo, but he was so into it that he was going in all on his own. (i say "never told him" but there's that audio drama where he did, in fact, tell him and the boys.) how kyoani uses him as a sort of bridge between the girlies and the boys just cause he's that much of a social chameleon, i guess. how he's the only other character aside from Minato, the MC mind you, who has not one but TWO features in the character songs album. he's a bridge dawg he's a fit for everyone and anyone. i dunno man i have so many thoughts and zero words to articulate them, but i love this kid. shoutout to this kid, i hope he's having a great day and his lemon teas are always the right temperature. lil bro needs a pat on the back and i wanna be the one to give it to him.

#tsurune #nanao kisaragi #kaito onogi #real talk hes gotta be my favorite character ever cause what the FUCK is up with him #seriously no other character has ever incapacitated me so much as to leave me tongue tied this is ridiculous #im not even sure anything i wrote makes sense but i need to speak this into the void and hope that someone ANYONE will understand #do you get it guys do you i dont think you do you wouldnt understand #tell me why i have seen more kaito stans than nanao ones #which shoutout to kaito hes okay hes just not that interesting to me #ryohei is far more interesting maybe one day ill also talk about how lonely ryohei is and that whole thing with shu #(i dont like shuu)#okay good night

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