#ill gladly do the extra work
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I'm really sick and Satan's sacrificial waterfall is here AT THE SAME TIME!
I don't know if you do blurbs or headcannons, but if so, would you be willing to write for the boys (either taskforce 141, or singular characters,) taking care of an afab reader who has never had anyone wanting to take care of them?
If not, sorry to bother!
I don't typically take requests but... since I'm in the same boat (sacrificial waterfall is probably going to come over the weekend for me), I'll 100% do it.
A while back I also posted this: "You're feeling ill" and it's also along the same vein, if you'd like an extra little pick me up.
Period woes.
Rating: G
Words: 1K~
tags: afab!reader but you/your pronouns, SFW!, fluff, comfort, periods and associated symptoms.
A person’s period might be the most hypocritical moment of their routine. They’re expected to continue moving, working and living their live as normal, all with a smile on their face, while their uterus actively attempts to cut off its own circulation… as if for any other injury or sickness you wouldn’t be expected to lay down and STOP for a moment and allow yourself to heal up, or at least improve enough to not be miserable.
But no. You’re expected to deal with it alone, to not show a reaction, to not be irritable, or groaning and writhing in pain. Take a shower, stock up on painkillers and slap a smile on your face, you’ve gotta go out in the world and act as if you’re not actively dreading every waking moment you spend on your feet.
That’s why you’ve learned to hide it when you’re going through your monthly. Your family, partners… not even your girlfriends know when you’re having it. Ever since you were a young teen, just starting out, it was very much a conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, sort of moment.
But it’s miserable. You’re always miserable. Everything hurts, the cramps, the headaches, the back pain, hip pain, your sore chest… Plus the blood, the lack of appetite (or increase in appetite), the nausea, the fact you want to cry one moment, or break dishes and scream the next, the way your colleagues annoy you beyond compare, how certain sounds grit your nerves just. enough. to make you feel like you’re losing it… And then you can’t sleep.
And of course… he notices it. How could he not?
Ghost is discreet about it. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t make a big deal about it… But he’s VERY good at taking care of you without you noticing he’s doing it. His love language is acts of service… So he simply goes around giving you a hand on whatever you might need. Food? Made. Dishes? Done. Laundry? Washed, Dried, Folded and Put Away. He finds you trying to do something? No. Give it here, he’ll do it.
The inevitable day that a leak happens and you find yourself angry at yourself as you strip the bedsheets off the bed, trying to be discreet about it so he doesn’t see it, he silently grabs the sheets off your hands and murmurs a “Go take a shower and change. I’ve got this.” before turning to put the sheets in the washer, clean the mattress and remake the bed so you can lay down again by the time your shower is over. It makes you emotional, sometimes, that such a stoic man will gladly take on every other responsibility to allow you to heal.
Gaz, blessed be him, is an absolute sweetheart… But he’s also a silly boy. He notices and although he’s not going to make a big deal about it, he’s still very… Boyish about it. Uses all the silly names for your period (“The Communists are coming”, “Shark week”, “Satan’s waterfall”, “Carrie”) and affectionately calls you “My little ketchup packet”.
He’s all for ordering takeout and getting you whatever you want when and how you want it. He’ll rub your back and be very careful about where and how he touches you. He’s ginger with touches around your waist and lower stomach, looks at you with those big brown eyes of his, as if checking that he’s not hurting you or crossing a boundary. You find yourself getting emotional when he whispers about how strong you are to deal with this every month… Keeps asking gently if you need anything… It makes you feel so safe.
Price’s older. He’s been in many relationships before. He notices your period is coming before it even does… Notices how you’re acting. Jumpier, grumpier, sadder… Notices how you toss and turn the couple of nights leading up to it. And he’s silently prepared. He’s made a supply run to the grocery store to get what brand of period products you use and some painkillers and puts them where you can see them in the bathroom.
Fills you up with warm herbal tea and food that he knows are easy to digest and help with your state. No fucking chocolate and sugar or potato chips, you’re being pumped full of soups and stews and veggies and cut up fruit. He’ll sit by your side with a paring knife and an apple and slowly peel, core and cut it, before slowly feeding you (and himself) the slices. When you try to resist it, at first, too used to doing things alone, he’ll grab your face with both hands, look into your eyes and tell you. “And why exactly would I let you do that, when you’ve got me here to help you? How does that make sense?”
Soap’s… Well… Soap’s got a bunch of sisters… Each of them dealing with their periods in wildly different ways... So one thing he knows for sure: He’s not about to assume anything. You do what you’ve got to, he’ll adjust to you. He needs to go to the bathroom but you’re in there? Copy that, he’ll go piss in the yard. You’re having a cry in the kitchen because nothing looks good but you’re hungry? Talk it out with him, what do you want to eat? Let’s figure it out together, bonnie. You need to lie down in a dark room because of a migraine or headache or just to catch on sleep you’ve missed? Johnny’s blacked out every window, gathered every stray pillow and blanket in the house and will make you a nest if he’s got to.
And when you wake up in the middle of the night with a whine and a stretch because your back hurts and you’ve got cramps and cannot for the life of you get comfortable, Johnny’s hands are rubbing over you, pressing kisses to your temple and murmuring little “I ken, love… It’ll be over soon… I’m sorry you’re going through this…”
#ikea writes 💚#cod fanfic#cod headcanons#reqs#simon ghost riley#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#feeling sick#sickness#menstruation
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Can you please do headcanons with Angel and Husk with a reader who suffers from chronic pain/illness and how’d they’d help reader get through it? Platonic or romantic is up to you! It’s okay if you can’t but thank you so much if you do.
Hey there! Of course I can, I decided to go with chronic pain though it’s written pretty vaguely, so it can be relatable to a wider audience; and for anyone struggling with this, make sure you rest a bunch :)
Angel and Husk with a Reader who has Chronic pain/illness
Angel Dust
✧Angel is a very caring boyfriend; he remembers all the meds that you’re supposed to take and at what time, and if you forget about taking them he’s going to gently scold you and remind you that this is important for your health.
✧However, his life is pretty busy with him having to be on set for most of the day, so he can’t really take care of you the way he’d rather do it. Still, he’ll take a few breaks to remind you to take your medicine at the right time and entrust somebody else to take care of you if you’re having a particularly bad day.
✧Speaking of bad days, every single morning before he goes to work he’ll stop by your room; if you’re already awake he’ll tell you to text him if there is a problem and you two will share a kiss as good luck to both of you; if you’re still sleeping, he’ll gladly leave a neatly written note on your nightstand where he reminds you how much he loves you and tells you he hopes that you have a good day, and to obviously text him if something’s wrong.
Good Morning Sweets,
I hope you slept fine, and that today goes well!
Leave me a message if you need,
I’ll try to check my phone for you.
I love you a bunch,
-Anthony <3
✧At the end of the day, expect a lot of cuddles and kisses! He’ll ask you how it went and if you managed to carry out any of your projects. At the start of the relationship he might even avoid talking about his own struggles because he knows you have to deal with yours every day, but as you two get more comfortable so will the relationship, and you’ll be genuine with each other, as the other will always be there for comfort.
Husk
✦Husk may appear grumpy, but as I said probably a million times at this point, he’s the exact opposite in a relationship, especially if you struggle with chronic pain or illness. He’ll be extra careful not to cause you any additional pain or fatigue, and will be thinking of you pretty much the whole time when you’re resting in your room.
✦Alcohol doesn’t really help with chronic pain and illness, so he’s willing to mix you non-alcoholic cocktails and of course prepare something extra for you, such as a breakfast in bed here...a favourite dish as lunch there...he’s skilled in the kitchen! So he does so both because he enjoys it and because it lessens your strain.
✦He can also be a bit of a couch potato, so he doesn’t really mind if you sometimes prefer to have little dates at the Hotel because you’re not feeling the best. Watching some TV to distract you sounds good enough to him, as long as you get to spend time together and he gets to comfort you with his purrs.
✦If you’re having a particularly bad day, he will do anything for you; bring you your meds, remind you to eat and drink, he will even take breaks from tending to the bar to check on you. Alastor doesn’t mind him doing that either.
✦- This only applies if you’re dating both of them – Husk will always be appointed to look after you by Angel while he’s at work if you’re in pain, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. You will receive lots of love once Angel comes home, from both him and Husk, and the playful banter between the two will surely be able to distract you a bit.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#husk hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#huskerdust#headcanons
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Postal 4 boyfriend Headcanons
(Guess who found about how to do a buillted list insides of manually putting dots :D)
Mans is probably in his early 40’s and feeling every second of it.
He’s not much a romantic, but he knows how to love. Like he knows he’s supposed to give you gifts, listen to you rant, support you in anything, hug you, give affection and words of encouragement, the whole sha-bang. Is he good at it tho? Kinda,,,
You probably met him during his ‘job hunting’, when he was running around this a sign that said something along the lines of “Willing to do something strange for a bit of change”. Caught your attention IMMEDIATELY
You thought he wasn’t too bad looking, something of a roughed up silver fox. He was pretty toned for someone his age, forearms are pretty big and that’s just what you needed. You ended up taking him up on his offer and made him clean out your gutters. You just sat there and watched as he worked himself throwing out heaps of wet leaves and random junk from your gutters.
He came out obvious dirty so you gifted him $40 and a shower. It’s like heavens light shined upon him when he heard the words “You can take a shower here if you’d like?” fall from your mouth was enough for him to marry you in that moment.
Postal Dude has been raw dogging it homeless style for a couple months up to this point, so any kind of reward he came across was a fortune to him. Gladly accepting this kind gesture, he was still thrown out for the rest of the day. You both came upon an agreement that he could stay the nights on your couch, but he still had to go ‘job hunting’ during the days. Didn’t matter to him, he still accepted it. As long as he had a safe place to sleep with Champ.
Side note, you loathe Champ being around during the day since he digs holes everywhere in your front AND back yard, so you make Dude take Champ with him everyday. Dude doesn't mind since Champ is kinda like an attack dog so homie very useful when Dude's walking around
Once your relationship with Dude has reached it's peak (dating), he becomes very attentive and energetic. Where he was once tired and reclused, he's now got some energy in him and filled with affection
Dude loves to be around you and touching you. Biggest love languages are quality time and physical touch, sometimes words of affirmation if he's feeling extra sappy. He's probably been through the works of brutal relationships, so he really wants to settle down, which leads me to my next thought
Mans is getting old and creaky. Sure he's still got muscle and all, but they're honestly just for show. He couldn't hold back Champ from attacking someone he isn't supposed to even if his life depended on it. So, he's staring to wear down and just wants to find someone to relax with.
Red flag time, he's talking about marriage about 2 months into the relationship and tries to move his scrap in without you noticing, which usually fails. It's not that he's using you for your home, Dude just wants to feel like he's finally in a normal relationship. No bitchy attitudes being thrown around, no constant nagging for something stupid, no arguing over small things, no constant threats, just y’all being in love together
Eventually your gonna have to let Champ wonder the house and train him to be a guard dog rather than just an attack dog. You’re definitely the one to look up dog training classes and making Dude go with you to these said classes.
Even with how much he loves to be around you, there are still times when his mental and physical illnesses make him ill 😔 but he still tries to snap out of it
His main problems are most likely his chronic muscle pains and his auditory schizophrenia. (I think all the dudes are some sort of schizo, it’s just that p1 and p2 are the strongest showing ones)
Being older means his body is slowly deteriorating. Sure he’s not that old, but with how he lived in his golden age, he should really be dead. Constantly on the run from the government, having to stay sharp to kill, and fucking his way through Paradise and Edensin, he’s ready to just lay down and let the earth reclaim him
Having a long history of schizophrenia in the family and his own lifetime, it’s thankfully dwindled down to just hearing voices randomly. Since he can only hear these voices it doesn’t scare him as bad as it used to. All he can really hear is a distant conversation that he can’t make out the words to, it’s sort of like a mumbling between a woman and a man. Many times you’ve found him franticly wondering the house with a confused look on his face saying “I thought there was people in here?”
Overall, he’s an old man who’s been through enough and would just like to relax. Give him kisses, give him cuddles, feed him, and talk to him, and he’ll love you for eternity (so gay)
#postal#p1 dude#running with scissors#postal 4#postal headcanons#postal dude x reader#postal game#postal 3 dude#postal x male reader#postal x reader#x reader
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Hello can I ask for more seonghwa and cnc
cnc with seonghwa who goes hard on you with you least expect it. nsfw ahead
you're on the couch, twiddling your thumbs along your sliver necklace with a thick amber stripe on the jewel, nearly forgetting it's purpose. the accessory was so beautiful that you sometimes forget to take it off, which is why you also wore the matching ring for extra assurance to your boyfriend.
so when seonghwa saw you this morning with both of the pieces, he smirked. such a whore for me, he thought to himself. truth is you wore them almost accidentally, but if he were to take you right now, you'd gladly let him.
fast forward to right now. the ring is off your finger but necklace still on. seonghwa, who is currently sitting next to you, has thought of nothing all day but fucking his stress away. he came back from an annoying meeting from work where the boss lectured them about cleanliness. like, he's the cleanest in the whole damn office, why lecture him? he was livid but had to keep his anger in his head as his superior mindlessly rambled.
now he's back, work clothes changed to more comfortable attire, arm around your shoulders, and cock slowly hardening as he thought about sharing his earlier frustrations on your body. after fighting his mind for a good few minutes, he thought fuck it and tugged your shorts and panties off.
you jerked back in shock. "hwa, what are you-" you were instantly cut off with a harsh kiss as your boyfriend soft yet callused hands played with your center until you felt soaked. he pulled off your lips before taking his own pants and boxers off. he gave you a look, and knowing it you spat on his cock, red at the tip from withholding himself for so long.
with a low groan, he used your saliva as makeshift lube to rub himself a few times before tapping his thigh a few times. you nodded and lifted yourself to hover over his already standing length. "daddy's had an annoying day at work. make me feel better and let me fuck it out on you?" you guys went so far yet he still asked for your permission. you just couldn't deny him.
as you nodded, he smirked and held onto your hips, pushing you down on him. he watched as your small frame became 'violated' by his thick cock almost raw. your clit looked red and swollen, possibly by your earlier failed attempts to get off. it's okay though, because you taking him like this looked like punishment enough for you.
"fuck, fuck. hwa wait-" you pleaded, although you know you deserved this. you touched yourself prior, plus you knew seonghwa was already heated from his meeting. you just forgot how big he was as compared to your small cunt. as you felt yourself being split open, you tried to push his hands away from your hips. instead you were met with a harsh slap to your ass, making you cry out.
"shut up and take what you're given, slut." and with that he forced the rest of himself inside you. not even giving you time to adjust, he lifted your poor body up and down his dick as you cried out in ecstasy. "you just let me dick you down whenever and however i want hmm? my perfect whore."
all you can do at the moment is gasp. not shriek, not moan nor groan, not even hum. you gasped in and harshly breathed out your bursts of pleasure. you were still adjusting to the harsh pace from the intrusion inside of you, and seonghwa's harsh dirty talk made your small chances to relax even harder.
he could tell because he could feel you clamping down on him hard. "relax, baby," he lightly cooed, using one of his previously occupied hand to gently rub your back as you came hard with a sob. he slowed down his thrusting to a stop and held you. "just three more," he whispered to you shivering, "and after ill make you feel good afterwards with a massage." he began thrusting again to he previous brutal pace.
..
a good hour later, seonghwa kept his promise. you were filled to the brim with cum flowing out of your abused hole, and you couldn't stop your legs from shaking. yet you were smiling as your caring boyfriend used a non-irritant essential oil to rub the places he knew would hurt. when he reached your pelvis, leaned down and kissed your clit, making you jolt.
"seonghwa!" you protested, yet you still had the permissive neckpiece on. he just smirked and gave it one last kitty lick-- much to your yelping surprise-- and continued rubbing your hurt areas.
you both have your tops off now, and seonghwa took advantage of that by massaging your breasts. they tend to hurt from your hard nipples pressing against your bra, so he was careful to not tweak at them harshly and even warm the cold buds up with his hot mouth. you could never get enough of him, and he knew that.
"remember that i love you, princess," he mused as he finished massaging your sore bum and turned you around.
you kissed him back with a smile. "i love you too, hwa."
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James the Red-Hot Engine
One day on the Island of Sodor, James the Red Engine decides to try coke. No, I mean the fuel, what did you think I meant? It ends badly. Coal-fired locomotives should be fired on coal and coal only, or if necessary wood, and James is about to learn this the hard way.
Rated T, 4.2K Words. Humor / Hurt/Comfort, Thomas The Tank Engine / The Railway Series fandom.
Read it on AO3 here, or below the cut!
One morning, the Tidmouth sheds were less quiet than usual. An engine shed is rarely a quiet place in the morning, because there are always workers running about banging tools and shouting to each other to be heard as they get the engines ready for the day’s work. Steam engines are not quiet machines either even when they are just being fired up, and neither are the fans that remove the smoke and steam from the shed and bring fresh air in.
But on this morning, the shed was extra noisy thanks to two engines in particular: Gordon and James. No one else knew who had started the argument, but they’d been griping at each other all morning. Percy had tried to change the subject by bringing up the rumor that Sir Topham Hatt was considering finding another engine for the railway, but Gordon had taken the opportunity to give his opinion on what kind of engine it would, or at least should, be.
“It’s obvious that we need a third Express Engine,” Gordon went on as if he were explaining why wheels were round. “Henry’s all right at it, but he’s often needed on heavy goods trains, so if I’m ever ill -”
“What do you mean a third?” James said crossly. “I’m your third, and I’m not a goods engine, so don’t start with that again! If we did have another goods engine so Henry and I didn’t have to waste our time mucking about with trucks -”
“You’re not an Express Engine either.”
“Yes I am! I pull the Express sometimes, therefore, I’m an Express Engine.”
“No, you’re not,” insisted Gordon. “I know you mean well, but you’re just too small and slow. They make do with you when Henry and I aren’t available, but if the Fat Controller didn’t make the timetable slower than it needs to be it would be late every time you had to pull it. If we had another engine who could keep up, we could run faster service every day.”
“Rubbish!” snapped James, and he let off steam with an angry hiss. Everyone in the shed who had hands covered their ears with them, and the other engines glared at him. But James was in too bad a mood to notice. “I’m just as strong and fast as Henry, and you’re only faster with a light train and dry rails! If the timetables were tighter you’d be late from getting stuck on the hill every time it rained!”
“Leave me out of this,” grumbled Henry. “Driver, can we wait for me to raise steam somewhere else?”
“Gladly,” said Henry’s driver. He advanced the throttle, and he and the fireman waved to Gordon and James’s crews with a look of sympathy as Henry puffed out to the turntable.
~~~
Gordon soon forgot about the argument, and most of the other engines put it aside as well, though they were mysteriously short-tempered for the rest of the morning. But James was furious all day.
“Small and Slow? I’ll show you small and slow!” he fumed, starting his train with such a jerk that his wheels spun. If he’d been pulling coaches he’d have been more gentle, since even in a mood like this he remembered the bootlace incident, but he afforded the trucks no such courtesy, and they gave him none in return.
“Yes you will, yes you will!” sang a wagon third from the lead, and the others soon joined in. “Don’t worry, don’t hurry, we’re in no rush, that’s why you’re here pulling us!” they chanted.
When James reached the end of his journey he had to pull the train apart again, and put some of the trucks in a siding, including the ringleader of the teasing. He usually hated shunting, but he was glad to have the chance to give that wagon an extra hard bump. In fact, he bumped him so hard that lumps of something hard and gray were jostled out, and a few landed on James’s footboard.
“That’s some funny coal,” he remarked. But later, when he was being uncoupled, his fireman examined the stuff and told him it wasn’t coal at all.
“That’s coke,” he explained. “Those wagons are bound for the ironworks later.”
“What’s coke?”
“It’s a special fuel that burns hotter than coal. Engines don’t need it, but the big furnaces do.”
“Hotter than coal?” James’s face lit up. “You mean, it’s like the special coal Henry had to use?”
“I dare say it’s stronger stuff even than that,” laughed the fireman. His face suddenly became serious. “And the answer is no, you can’t. It’s not for engines, and your firebox isn’t meant for it.” He had worked with James for many years, and knew him too well to even give him a chance to ask the question. He tossed the lumps that had fallen on James in the firebox, but they were too small to make any difference.
But James thought about it all night. He’d heard the same about the special Welsh Coal, and everyone knew the real reason only Henry had been allowed to use it was because it was expensive. It had made Henry, with the undersized firebox he’d had before getting his new shape, feel like a different engine, so this coke stuff must have been even better. James became convinced that if he could try it, just once, and showed what he could do, the Fat Controller would be so impressed that he’d start ordering it instead of coal. He’d probably give it to everyone, but James did have a smaller firebox than Henry or Gordon even if it wasn’t so small it made him ill, so he would probably benefit more. Perhaps, thought James, he was really the fastest engine on Sodor, and with proper fuel he could prove it! He began to come up with a plan.
~~~
A wiser engine than James would know that coke is used for melting iron and steel in giant blast furnaces, and engines’ fireboxes are made of steel, so they aren’t a good combination. James’s usual fireman knew this, but on his regular crew’s day off the man who fired him wasn’t nearly as experienced. James avoided mentioning his idea until it was time to try it, for fear that he would talk to his regular crew and they’d say it wasn’t to be done.
But he needed to have one of the coke wagons in a siding where he could get to it on a day when the new fireman was working, and hope as he might, it didn’t happen.
His chance finally came when the rumored new engine, a diesel shunter, arrived, and shortly after Duck was sent off to Edward’s station for telling rude jokes about the other engines to the trucks. Diesel turned out to not be so good at his job, and already the engines were beginning to grumble about Duck’s absence and wish they had just found a way to pay him back for his gossip and let things be even. But it was an opportunity. James knew that Duck would never help him do anything that broke the rules in even the slightest way: he’d just say it ‘Wasn’t Great Western.’ But Diesel wasn’t nearly so obsessive and inflexible, which was one of the things James liked about him.
James found Diesel resting in a siding while his driver had lunch. He sidled up to him, and when his own crew left the cab too he explained his plan.
“So will you help me?”
A smirk spread across Diesel’s face like an oil slick. “Would I? Of course! You’ve all been so kind and welcoming, after all: one good turn deserves another. And a splendid engine such as yourself deserves only the best, after all!”
Those readers who know Diesel and his ways better than James did at the time might think that he was playing a very dangerous trick on the red engine. But the truth was that Diesel knew even less than James about the special fuel, and thought he was doing him a favor. He had never considered it important to know anything about what the trucks he shunted carried, only where they should be put. And that was much less interesting than learning the weaknesses of engines and people alike, and how to make them do what he wanted. For instance, by flattering them and doing them favors, that he could then ask to be returned later.
He did know the coke wagons belonged to the smelter, not the railway, and James might get in trouble for taking it. But he wasn’t to steal anything himself, only do his job. There was nothing wrong with sorting a few cars next to the siding where engines rested, and if the crime was found out and James said Diesel had helped him, he could simply make up a story about how James had threatened and blackmailed him into moving the wagons. That would get him sent away for sure, and he might even end up at the smelter himself. With a vacant spot in the sheds the Fat Controller would have to get another engine, and Diesel could recommend one of his friends on the mainland. But there was no need for it to come to that. He considered it a good day’s work simply to have a foolish and gullible engine in his debt.
~~~
And so, three days later, James found the wagons of coke at the appointed time, in the appointed place. Now was his chance! He explained his idea to the fireman, but pretended he’d thought of it just then.
“Hmm… I don’t know what it’d do,” said the fireman. “Burn nicely, I’d expect.”
“If only it was ours,” said the driver. “I’d love to see it, but it’s bound for the ironworks and they’d be sure to complain if part of the shipment was missing.”
James’s heart sank. But before he could say anything, the fireman piped up again. “Oh, c’mon Norm, surely they won’t miss a few scoops!” He polished off his bottle of coffee, which he’d been keeping warm next to the firebox grates.
James waited, giddy with excitement, as a substantial amount of coke made its way into his tender. Then he puffed away, ready to take his train.
“Well,” said his fireman. “Let’s see what this stuff can do, eh James?”
“No, not yet,” said James. “Let’s save it for the hill!”
He picked up the first few cars from the yard, then more trucks full of stone from Thomas’s branch line in Crusby, and a few more with china clay from Wellsworth. The train would be at its heaviest on the way up Gordon’s Hill, so if ever he needed extra steam it would be then. James sat at the station, nervous and impatient, and tried not to make eye contact with Duck as he shunted the heavy trucks onto the back of the train.
“Need help on the hill?” Duck asked. “That’s quite a load you’ve got there.”
For a moment James thought Duck had somehow found out about the coke. “N-no thank you!” he stuttered. When he realized what Duck meant, he added crossly: “I can manage by myself! What, do you want to whisper more lies about me to the trucks back there?”
“Well, suit yourself,” Duck replied frostily. “But if you stick on the hill, you might be there a while. Edward’s asked me to take some coaches down the branch line, and he’s busy too.”
“I won’t stick!” James insisted. He waited until Duck was out of earshot, and whispered: “Now!” to his fireman.
They built up his fire for the run up the hill, shoveling scoop after scoop of coke into his firebox. But James didn’t feel any different. If anything, he felt short of steam. He was getting close to the hill now. “Is it working yet?” he asked anxiously when he stopped at a signal.
“It’s not catching,” said the fireman.
“Oh, no!” James had an awful idea. “What if Diesel was playing a joke on me? Perhaps he put rocks in those wagons!”
“If he did my arms would be a lot tireder. I’d better add some coal in the middle, to help it get going.”
“Don’t worry, James, we’ll take the hill slow and steady,” added the driver.
~~~
James slowly struggled up the hill, panting and puffing with every turn of his wheels. The rails were nice and dry, but he didn’t have enough steam. What a waste of time this coke nonsense was, he thought. His regular fireman must have told him not to use it because it was rubbish.
But slowly and steadily, the coke started to burn. Halfway up the hill, the climb became easier, and easier. The train began to pick up speed. “It’s working!” he cheered. “I really do feel a different engine!”
“It’s going nicely now!” laughed the fireman. “I’ve never seen boiler pressure go up climbing a hill like this!”
The trouble started after they reached the top, and the work became much easier, but his fire only burned more and more fiercely. James started to feel uncomfortable. It was like he had too much steam. He tried to let it off, but the feeling got worse and worse. “Uhh… Fireman? I think that’s enough for now. Don’t put any more in.”
“I’ve hardly added more the whole climb. It’s just burning on its own.”
Just before they reached Maron, there was a sensation of something giving way, and a loud ‘WWHEEEEESSSHHH!’ James flew through the town in a cloud of steam.
“That’s the safety valve,” cried the fireman. Then he must have looked at a gauge inside the cab, because he swore.
The driver slowed the train, and tried to waste as much steam as he could by setting James’s reversing gear full forward and closing the regulator, but still it didn’t help. A second safety valve opened. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now, it hurt. His boiler felt like it was being stretched, and there was a burning pain in his firebox that grew worse, and worse, and worse. James sucked up water from his tender as fast as he could, and his driver opened the blowdowns.
But it wasn’t enough. James limped into the next station billowing steam from everywhere steam could billow from. The heat was unbearable. It felt as hot as the torches they’d used on him when they gave him bigger wheels and added the front pair. His tubes were being tied in knots by the pressure, and any minute he felt like his boiler was going to come apart at the seams. “Help!” he wailed. “Make it stop!” He would have been crying from the pain, but even his eyes were leaking steam. The wind was blowing the cloud ahead of him too, and he could barely see. He’d only felt so out of control once, when his brakes had caught fire his first day on Sodor.
“That’s a danger signal!” shouted his driver. “We’ve passed it!” James shuddered to a halt. Something creaked inside him, and broke. It hurt so much he could hardly speak.
“Stop!” he sobbed. “I’m going to burst!” He’d seen pictures of it. The Fat Controller had put photographs of an accident on the other railway up in the shed once to remind engines not to keep quiet if their boiler was going dry or their firebox was too hot. James couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly keep quiet. He wasn’t sure when he’d started whistling, or whether it was to try to warn people or just to use every last bit of steam he could.
“If you’re going to blow up, do it somewhere else!” called a truck, but it didn’t sound teasing, just frightened like he was. “Uncouple us!”
“We’re doing everything we can!” shouted the fireman.
James gritted his teeth, and he was about to beg them to just run when a second whistle sounded in a frantic, rapid staccato. Brakes squealed, but there was no crash, only someone shouting: “Put his fire out, you idiot!” There was a brief argument. “Water! Not his boiler, in the bloody firebox!” and another, fainter voice saying something about a tender, then the first repeating it much louder. “You’ve a hose in the tender! Use it!”
The sudden cold in James’s fire hurt so much he almost thought his firebox really had come apart, and the bed of coke fought hard to keep from being quenched. He couldn’t say a word, only silently beg for the pain to be over one way or another. The furious hissing of steam was almost a roar. But gradually, the pain subsided, and the pressure fell.
When his vision cleared, James found that he was almost at the station, close to the platform. On the other side, he saw Henry, stopped well short of the platform and watching him with a concerned look. James recognized the voice who’d been shouting at him, but he’d thought Henry had been closer. Then he realized the platform was empty. Henry must have backed away in case his suggestion didn’t work. In case he’d exploded.
“What happened to you?” Henry inched up to the platform with his coaches. “You looked like one of those rocketships driver talked about blasting off.”
James was so shocked and in so much pain it took him a while to answer. His firebox still felt like it had been cut in half. “Uh… bad batch of coal?”
Henry winced sympathetically. “From the looks of it they must’ve mixed some gunpowder in. I’d throw that lot out if I were you, and have the signalman send a warning so no one else gets any.”
“Thanks, I – I will,” James stammered.
Meanwhile, his driver and fireman were mopping their brows and squinting into his firebox. It was white hot inside. The firebrick arch at the front was dripping something glowing. The two men stared at it in horror.
James finished his run at a careful limp. He was too embarrassed to say what had happened, but he couldn’t hide that he didn’t feel well. When it was time for his driver and fireman to go home and his evening crew to take over, they left to punch their time cards in quite a hurry. The evening fireman noticed something was wrong immediately, and James found himself quickly rushed to a shed and his fire put out. He was too tired to argue, and fell asleep almost at once.
~~~
The next morning, he didn’t feel any better, and what was worse, instead of his fire being lit he woke to see the Fat Controller. And he was furious.
“Well, James?”
James didn’t know what to say. He had an awful feeling that the Fat Controller already knew everything. He just stayed silent and tried not to cry.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing, sir. I knew that coke was bound for the ironworks, but I took it anyway-”
The Fat Controller snorted, and stifled a laugh, which James didn’t understand at all. He composed himself, and his stern expression returned. “The ironworks be damned. I’m not happy you and your fireman stole from their shipment by any means, but losing half a ton of coke isn’t the end of the world, just an apology letter and a check. I’m much more disappointed by your recklessness. I’ll have you know that I run a railway, not a space program!”
“Yes, sir,” James said miserably. He thought of mentioning that he’d asked for Diesel’s help, but thought better of it. It had only been his idea, and he didn’t want to get him in trouble for trying to do a nice thing.
“Henry’s passengers were afraid for their lives, and some of them are saying that this railway is unsafe!” the Fat Controller went on. “Not to mention Henry’s been worried sick about you! What, exactly, were you thinking?”
James explained his idea. Saying it out loud now, he felt very foolish indeed.
The Fat Controller scoffed. “Fastest engine on Sodor? From what I heard you very nearly were – in several directions at once!”
James winced. It hadn’t quite sunk in how close he’d come to dying, because he’d been trying not to think about it. “I’m sorry, sir. I – I didn’t know -”
“Obviously not!” The man snapped, and James saw a flash of his father’s anger in his eyes. He was young, about the age the first Fat Controller had been when James first came to the railway. He’d been a cross man in those first years, and James had been used to him or another engine being scolded for something almost every day. The engines had grown older and wiser, but Edward and Gordon and Henry said the man had too. But James had never seen the new Fat Controller this angry, and he remembered the story about Henry being walled up inside a tunnel. He’d have thought it was made up to scare him if Edward hadn’t said it was true. Being left alone, and his paint covered in soot and cobwebs until he was just some dingy goods engine that drivers all groaned about having to be seen with, and forgotten about seemed the worst thing ever. He’d been frightened of it for a long time, though he’d never said a word because he was sure the other engines would laugh at him.
“Whatever my punishment is, I won’t complain,” he promised feebly. Even if he was painted blue, or had to shunt trucks for months.
“I think the laws of physics have already punished you enough,” said the Fat Controller. “But all the same, you must go to the works and have your firebox and boiler mended and inspected. Your fireman told me you’ve broken several stay bolts, and there may be more hidden damage. It’s too risky to fire you, so another engine shall take you tonight.”
No hand touched James’s brakes, but he clamped them against his wheels extra-tight all the same. He was all right having work done below the footboard (in his estimation: the workers at Crovan’s gate would say he was fussy and touchy), but he hated having his tubes replaced or anything else done with his boiler. He couldn’t understand how Henry had come back from Crewe so cheerful and not been driven mad by all they must have done.
“Is – is it all right, sir, if Henry does it?” Thomas or Gordon would probably make fun of him for being foolish, and so would Percy or Toby. Edward wouldn’t, but who knew what Duck had told Edward about him.
“I’ll ask him this afternoon.” The Fat Controller turned to leave, then turned back around with surprising agility. His shoes crunched and dug into the ballast. “James… please never do anything that foolhardy again.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“I mean it. You put Henry’s passengers in danger, you put your driver and fireman in danger, and you put yourself in danger. This could have ended much worse than it did.” His eyes flashed. “It’ll be hard enough telling Mother what happened. If she’d opened up this morning’s paper and seen photos of you strewn across Cronk her heart would give out. Not to mention telephoning the Other Railway to send for another engine to haul you away. It wouldn’t be fair to Henry, or Edward, or any of your friends to make them do it.”
James wasn’t quite sure what it meant when a human said they would be sick, any more than he knew quite what it felt like for a worker to drop something heavy on his toe, but it must have been something like how he felt now. He couldn’t stop thinking about those horrible posters. There hadn’t been a face on the engine anymore, just lifeless, twisted scrap iron. The photos had been in black and white so he didn’t know what color the engine had been. But he was sure that would have been a dreadful sight in red. He remembered how frightened and how horrified he’d been when Henry had smashed into the back of his goods train. He hadn’t wanted to see what state Henry was in, but he had seen in the course of clearing away the trucks. He almost hadn’t believed the Fat Controller when he’d said Henry could be rebuilt.
No wonder he’d sounded so frightened. James had been trying not to cry the whole conversation, and his efforts finally failed.
The Fat Controller walked up and put a hand on his right buffer. “I’ll have you know,” he said as if forming the words was difficult, and his eyes were strategically hidden under the brim of his top hat. “That you don’t need to be the fastest engine on the line, or the strongest, or the wisest or the cleverest, or even the most useful, to be important. To the railway, to me, and to all the other engines here. I’d recommend giving that some thought.”
He turned around and walked away, leaving James alone.
~~~
A/N:
Alt Title: James ODs on Coke And Almost Dies: A Very Special Episode of Thomas and Friends. /s
I was halfway through writing it before I realized what it sounded like, and I giggled many times typing the word "coke" over and over.
This was supposed to be a dumb funny story about a real-life railway incident being RWS-ified. Based off the following story because it seemed like exactly the kind of absurd shenigans Awdry would base a story on.
https://fraiserabbit.tumblr.com/post/674429668110303232/dont-try-this-at-home
I wanted to just write silly slapstick about James having one brain cell (because of course this is the kind of dumbass thing that James would do), but then I started thinking about his character and motivations and how scary and painful the incident described must actually be, and also I apparently just like writing James being miserable, so it turned into whump.
Huge thanks to @mean-scarlet-deceiver for all your headcanons and analysis posts about all the characters, including James, Diesel/Sixty/”Cub”, and TFC1 and TFC2 and the differences between them, they really inspired me got me thinking about the characters on a deeper level.
I set this in 1957 during Diesel’s ill-fated trial on Sodor because I needed there to be some other engine dumb enough to help James with this idiotic plan, but this ended up opening a massive can of worms with the characters, including James’s insecurity, Diesel’s Machiavellian scheming actually being kinda smart and scary but at the same time not universally threatening when the entire island of Sodor hadn’t gotten on his bad side, and TFC2 being… softer than his father to the tender engines especially, and sharp enough that he sees right through James’s bluster.
Also at some point, TFC1 put up some fairly gruesome photos of a boiler explosion in the sheds as safety warning posters, not because he wanted to traumatize his engines but because he wanted to make sure something like that never, EVER happened on the NWR. I think the most likely time for him to have done this was during WWII after three USATC Class S160s had crownsheet failures in under a year.
#my writing#The Railway Series fandom#Thomas the Tank Engine fandom#James (TTTE)#fanfiction#humor#whump#hurt/comfort#sentient locomotive whump#boiler explosion mention#sir topham hatt#i had a bad idea
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no better place (ch 2)
Summary: “I knew a new puppy was a bad idea.”
or
The time Hotch broke his foot stepping over a brand new puppy and spent the entire holiday season laid up.
Words: 4.4k
Pairing: Hotch/Morgan
Warnings: broken foot and associated pain
**
“I’m parked four blocks down,” Jessica complained when Derek opened the door. She hated their neighborhood, there was too much foot traffic for her taste, and the street parking was pure hell. More often than not she took the train when she wanted to come visit them, but not when she needed to get there quickly and come with arms full of food. She hadn’t anticipated Fran and her daughters driving, they usually just walked over but now there were three extra cars in front of the house. She was irritated by the distance and walking with so much in her arms, but maybe more than that she was just taking out her worry on the parking. Derek opened the door to the sight of his mom and sisters busily and not quietly moving his house around – shifting furniture, measuring, shifting again. Jessica stared up at him defiantly until he took one of the bags from her arms. “If it gets broken into…”
“Good to see you too.”
She accepted his one armed side hug gladly and shook her head against him, exasperated and cold and worried. “How is he?”
“Sleeping. He’s been in and out all day.”
“Healing bones is hard work.”
“They gave him some pretty powerful drugs to get through the wait for surgery. He said he didn’t need them but Dr. Carter insisted he at least have them on hand. They gave him the first dose as an injection in the office and he took the next dose about an hour ago when he woke up hurting.”
Jessica dropped her bags and her shoes by the doorway before making her way into the house, a beeline right for Hotch sleeping on the couch. The puppy was playing with a toy nearby, still sitting guard beside her injured friend. She’d been outside to play with Hank twice but kept whining to be let back in where she could gnaw on her baseball beside Hotch. A week and she was already bonded to him.
“Who is this precious little beast?” Jess asked, crouching beside Paige and opening her hands. The puppy stretched her neck forward, sniffing at Jessica’s hands until she decided she was good people and scooting forward to accept the pets that would follow. Jess smiled and scratched behind the puppy’s ears happily.
“That’s Paige. She’s the reason he’s laid up…” He knew he had to stop that. It wasn’t her fault, necessarily, but he didn’t know how else to say it. Jess just huffed and spoke directly to the puppy who was now very interested in her hands, probably smelled her cat on them.
“You wouldn’t do such a thing. I know you wouldn’t. No, ma’am.”
“Yeah, well, she did. I think she’s forgiven though.”
Standing back up, Jess looked at Hotch sleeping peacefully on the couch and sighed. “Has he talked to Jack?”
“Not yet. I thought maybe you two could do it together. I talked to him earlier, he knows.” Word spread fast in families like this, and while Derek hadn’t told anyone else from the BAU but Penelope, he’d been getting texts all day from everyone asking how they could help. It seemed disproportionate to the injury, at least that’s what Hotch had said earlier when Derek read him Rossi’s email about how he planned to help them out come December but Derek only huffed and shook his head. Hotch would downplay any injury or illness, no matter how severe. And as Savannah had already made sure they both knew, no matter how small the injury sounded in theory, a broken bone (and subsequent surgery) was a traumatic injury and the body would respond accordingly. Hotch didn’t much care for that.
“I don’t want to wake him up, we’ll call Jack later.”
“…’m not sleeping…” came a muffled voice from the couch. Derek and Jess looked down at him in unison, startled at the sound of his voice. He sounded rough and worn, his face half buried beneath a blanket and muffled by the pillow. Jess made her way over to him and crouched in front of him, placing her cold hand against his temple. He was hot, a little sweaty, and his breathing sounded slow and labored, still thick with sleep.
“Hey you.”
“...hands are cold…” He was half out of it, the new dose of meds just barely kicking in. The old dose had worn off enough that the pain had begun creeping in and they didn’t catch it in time. Now he had to play catch up. If he didn’t move, barely breathed, it didn’t hurt as bad. But that was easier said than done, and he was busy learning a lesson early. Dr. Carter had said to keep on top of it, but he wouldn’t let his pride believe he needed it – he got through weeks after Foyet’s attack with barely a need for anything stronger than occasional tylenol. He didn’t have that kind of fortitude anymore, that kind of stubborn will to prove something stupid to himself. Now he just ached, his entire body, and he desperately wanted to sleep through it but even that was impossible. Jessica’s cold fingers on his temple were shocking but they felt nice against his flushed skin.
“How are you doing?”
He didn’t know how to answer that, not in words, so he just peeked one eye open and hoped she could read the miserable look in his eye. It wasn’t just the pain, that was such a small part of how he felt overall – if he couldn’t sleep, he was thinking about all of the trouble he was causing everyone and that was somehow worse.
“That bad huh?”
He hummed and closed his eye again, even that was too much. She pushed the hair back from his forehead and ran her nails over his scalp in a soothing circular motion, trying to take the edge off with a little distraction.
“You said he took more pain meds?”
“He slept through the time we should have given him another one. He missed it by about an hour, it should kick in soon.”
“Okay. We don’t wait until he’s hurting next time.”
“That’s what I said!” Desiree shouted from the kitchen, poking her head out to say hello to Jess. “I told him to wake Aaron up but he said he wanted to let him sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s my fault. I know. Lesson fuckin’ learned.” As if he didn’t feel like a bad enough husband, now he had four women in his house pointing out each and every one of his many glaring faults. There were plenty to go around, from not keeping his fridge well stocked with their approved items (he thought they were doing just fine on their own) to not having enough pillows, and then there was the issue of the bath tub and shower. Their bath tub was huge, he’d bought an over-sized tub so they could get in together but apparently that was going to be an extra hazard now because it was too big for him to safely get in and out of with a cast on his foot. Well, he wasn’t replacing the fucking tub he’d just have to make sure he was there for all of the bathing. And okay, maybe he was a little on the grouchy side, maybe he should have taken a nap earlier, but it was too late for that too.
“Hey, I’m not trying to place any blame. I just know from experience with my dad...it’s better to stay on top of the pain instead of chasing it. If he doesn’t want to use a lot of the strong stuff, we can piggy back ibuprofen and tylenol, and then add in the big guns only when it’s really needed.”
“Savannah said to do it that way starting tomorrow.” His voice wavered, and the emotion in it threatened to spill over. Jess nodded and tried to soften her stance a little. He was a pillar of strength but she could sense his imminent collapse and the journey had barely even begun, they were still on day one. Kind of like a pregame show. The surgery would be the real day one and he was already being pushed to his limit, though when she looked around at the chaos that had overtaken their once serene home, she thought maybe she could understand it. Maybe it was too many people invading his space, telling him what to do, thinking they were all helping but really just stressing him out. And where was Hank? He usually rushed her at the door and had somewhere to drag her off to – some Lego creation or dinosaur world or a drawing or a book to read...his silence was felt big.
“Do you want me to leave? I can come back another time if it’s too much. I don’t want to be in the way.”
“No, Jess, you don’t need to leave...I just...I need a minute. Okay?”
It wasn’t easy for him to ask for something like that, and he certainly wasn’t going to wait for the okay before walking through the house with the puppy in his arms toward the backyard under the guise of letting her go do her business. He could sit out there on the deck and watch her nose around in the grass and growl at squirrels in the bushes and think. No one followed him, though from the corner of his eye he could see the light on in Hank’s room at the end of the house and it made his heart hurt. The kid had been in there all afternoon. He’d come out only when Derek asked him to take the puppy outside, but he went right back inside without even looking at Hotch each time. That would be a conversation for later, once the dust had settled.
“Derek?”
“Not now Desi,” he groaned miserably. “I just wanna sit out here by myself.”
“I know, but Jessica said she brought some things to make for dinner so I’m gonna get outta here. Ma and Sarah are gonna go get her house ready for Hank to stay the night, they’ll be back to pick him up after you all eat. I think you guys need some quiet time.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m sorry if we were too much. We just wanna help. We mean well, big brother.”
“I know. I know...thanks Des.”
He sat outside for at least twenty minutes, until the chill got into his bones, until the dog was nosing at his leg to be let inside. She didn’t want to be out in the cold either. He scooped her up into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tucking her into the warmth of his chest and walking her inside. Yeah, he was already attached to her too. She might have been the cause of all of this, but she was also a balm on his soul. Having her to bring outside for a spot of quiet, having her to kiss, having her to sleep on Hotch’s lap like she was protecting him...it all gave him a peace he wasn’t sure he would have had otherwise.
He found Hotch sitting upright on the couch talking to Jack on a video call with Jess so he stood back and watched as his husband did his best to pretend he was totally fine for the sake of his son who wanted nothing more than to fly back and help out. They didn’t talk for long, but it was enough that Jack decided he could stay in New York until the Thanksgiving break started the following week, but he might try to get his classes to be long distance between that break and the winter break if they seemed like they needed him. He’d already talked to his teachers and they were open to the idea, but Hotch was adamant that he not do it. They had plenty of help. He really didn’t want more people in his house, and he certainly did not want his son to jeopardize his first year of college for his dad. He’d done enough to ruin his son’s life over the years.
After the call with Jack, Hotch looked ragged but awake. “Derek,” he said as the puppy was set back down in front of the fireplace. She stretched out and turned her little belly to the flames, eyes already heavy. “Is Hank still in his room?”
“Yeah. Kid won’t come out.”
“I’d like to go talk to him. Can you help me?”
Derek nodded and lifted Hotch up from the couch, steadying his body against him. Hotch felt so warm against him, and unsteady on his one leg after the drugs and the day spent lying down. This was going to be a long road and he worried that they would lose so much of their fitness while he had to rest. “You good?”
Hotch hummed and smiled, being so close to Derek. “Yes,” he whispered, slipping his arms around Derek’s waist and holding him there for a moment. “Thank you.”
“Kiss me,” Derek said quietly, his features too serious, too stern. Hotch leaned forward and kissed him gently, it was a little sloppy and slow, but his lips were warm and sincere. Derek needed that, he needed to remember that it was them here. Not their house turning into a hospital, not Hotch just being his patient to care for, but his husband, and Hotch was happy to oblige. He needed the reminder too.
They had crutches and a walker nearby, but Hotch was content just to hop along beside Derek for the few steps it took to get down the hallway to Hank’s bedroom in spite of the fact that Derek had offered to carry him. Maybe later, he’d said. For now he wanted to move his body a little. And he didn’t want Hank to see all of that yet, thinking it might be better if he was equipment free for the time being. He knocked, just three quick little raps of his knuckles, and waited.
“Hank?” he called. “Can I come in?”
Silence. He almost knocked again, but at the last moment the door slipped open just a crack and revealed the little boy and his dark eyes, red rimmed from crying. Hotch felt a sudden tightness in his chest at the sight of him, how impossibly small and fragile he looked all of a sudden. And scared, he looked so scared.
“May I?”
“I guess.”
Derek pushed in and helped maneuver Hotch over to Hank’s bed, offering to get him situated comfortably but Hotch just waved his hand and shooed Derek out. He wouldn’t be in there long enough to regret it too much, he figured, but he needed to see Hank and it needed to not be a big production. All he did was sit right on the edge, his feet flat on the floor, and while he regretted it immediately...he’d committed. For now he’d risk it. Hank just watched him for a second curiously, looking at his bandaged foot like it might jump up and bite him. Hotch waited, and when he was done waiting, he patted the bed beside him, begging him to come. He was reluctant
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
Hank looked on the verge of tears and Hotch knew he had to tread carefully. Hell, he was on the verge of tears himself and a little high on pain killers so this was a dangerous situation. “I haven’t seen you all day...I’ve been missing you kiddo. How was school?”
“Okay.”
“Just okay? What did you do today?”
“I dunno. Stuff.”
“Sounds riveting.”
Hank was being purposely evasive, and he’d anticipated it, but it still hurt. Hank was always open and engaged with him. He loved school and he loved to tell Hotch about every single thing his teachers taught him, always hoping to get that one “huh! I didn’t know that!” out of him. Now it looked like he was scared, like Hotch was fragile. Like he’d betrayed him somehow.
“Are you upset about me hurting myself?”
“...yeah…” Hank didn’t look at him while he said it, ashamed of himself for saying it, but he didn’t lie to his dads. He was upset. This changed everything. And it wasn’t like Hotch was the pillar of health, he’d seen his dad knocked out by migraines and ongoing heart issues and chronic pain his entire life, but somehow this was shocking and different. This happened so fast and everyone was making such a big deal out of it, and they kept saying surgery and Hank didn’t exactly know what surgery was but it sounded like Hotch could die from it.
“Do you have questions about it?”
Hotch’s foot was already starting to hurt, just a low slow throb up near his swollen toes. It was the first time since returning home that it wasn’t propped up on a pillow and the blood was rushing south about as fast as it could get there. He sucked in his breath and looked at Hank earnestly, trying to ignore it for the time being.
“I want to talk about it with you. What do you want to know?”
“Does it hurt?”
“Very much.”
“When will you be able to walk again?”
“It’s going to be a while. Months, maybe. But I’ll get better at moving around every day. I won’t have to stay in bed the whole time. Just at the start.”
“Dad said you hafta have surgery...is that gonna hurt?”
“Yes. But that’s okay, I can handle it. Do you know what that means?”
“Not exactly,” Hank said, finally looking up and meeting Hotch’s eyes. Hotch offered him a soft smile and nodded.
“They’re going to make a little cut in the top of my foot and put some metal rods inside of my foot bones to help them heal stronger.”
“So you’ll be like Iron Man?”
“Kind of.” How had he not seen that coming? He should have opened with a superhero. It would have made all of this so much simpler. Hank’s eyes lit up at that and he scooted a little closer, no more hesitation. “I guess you could say that.”
“Do you hafta be in the hospital?”
“I get to come home as soon as I’m awake and the doctor gives me the thumbs up. Then you guys will have to help me out for a while. It’s going to be really hard on dad...he’s going to need your help a lot. Can you do that?”
“What can I do?”
“Well...dad’s going to have to help me get around the house and do all of the big jobs for a while by himself. He’s going to be really tired. Maybe you can make some plans for things we can do for fun while I’m stuck in bed. We can read or watch movies or build legos, you can teach me how to play Minecraft…”
“You’d play with me?”
“I’m going to be in bed for a while, Hank. I’m going to need a lot of help keeping busy.”
Hank perked up noticeably at that. “I can do that! I have lots of fun stuff we can do.”
Hotch’s foot was starting to hurt worse and he shifted to try and distract himself from the intensity of the pain. It was getting harder and harder to distract himself. Luckily, Hank had that part covered.
“Why do I have to stay at Grandma’s tonight?”
“We thought you’d like to get out of here. Things have been a little weird today and you always love staying with Grandma. I think she’d like the company, too.”
“What if something happens?”
“Nothing is going to happen.” He knew that sounded hollow, considering the way the day had started. Hank gave him a look that said as much and he smiled and nodded, admitting that it wasn’t exactly comforting coming from the man with the bandage on his black and blue foot. “It’s probably not going to be a very good night. When you get hurt like this, sometimes it feels worse at night and I think you don’t want to be here to listen to me keeping your dad up all night complaining.”
And that was when the tears fell, when it hit Hank that things were going to be bad for a while. It wouldn’t just be okay in the morning. Hotch couldn’t just sleep this one off. “You’re gonna miss my basketball season. You promised you’d help coach.”
Hotch forgot about the pain in his foot entirely at the sight of his son crying. He pulled Hank closer to him, wrapping him up in a hug, letting him cry there before he spoke again. “I’ll still be there. I might not be able to run around on the court with you maniacs but I can sit in the bleachers and help. I won’t miss your basketball season. I promise.”
That was all he could take. His foot felt like it was going to explode from the pressure building and he had to put it up before Hank had to see him hit a low point. He thought maybe it was a good time to see if Hank would feel better helping instead of being left out, though. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you find a book for me to read you while I get a little more comfortable? We’ve got some time before dinner’s ready.”
“Is it starting to hurt?”
“Yeah, it is. I just need to put it up and it’ll stop. Mind if I put my stinky foot up on your bed?” Hank giggled and said no while he rushed over toward his bookshelf to find something suitable, something long. He usually just grabbed picture books, things they could go through with their eyes closed at this point, all of his favorites were well worn. Hotch had always loved to read to him, it was what they did. Derek built him the bookshelf when their little hobby got out of hand. But this time he picked from the big shelf, from the long books with lots of chapters and small words that would make Hotch have to put on his glasses...Hank loved that too. While Hank perused the shelf, Hotch scooted back on the bed until his foot was on the mattress, and almost instinctively Hank grabbed a folded up blanket from the end of this bed and helped tuck it beneath Hotch’s foot just like he’d seen on the couch. Hotch thought he might cry.
With a large, old canvas book tucked under his arm, Hank scooted in close and lay down. They had a certain way they fit together, Hank resting his head on Hotch’s arm, the book above their heads so they could both look at all the words and all the pictures at the same time. It was just what they did, and the minute Hank was in position he felt better. Like things didn’t feel so scary because Hotch might be broken but he could still do this, and this was important.
When Derek came in to let them know dinner was ready, he found them snuggled up beneath Hank’s blankets, deep into the second chapter of the book. He recognized the book right away, the worn green canvas, the corners that had taken a beating through years of reading and carrying around from home to home.
“The Once and Future King,” he said, standing in the doorway with a smile. “My dad used to read that to me. That was his copy.”
“Hank picked the book,” Hotch said quietly, resting his cheek against Hank’s soft hair. Derek liked when Hank kept his hair braided, but Savannah liked him to wear it wild and natural so Hank sided with his mom and Hotch reaped the benefit now as he nestled in beside the boy. His hair smelled like coconut and the book smelled musty like an old library basement, he was truly comfortable for the first time that day.
“I think Jess is finished making a mess of our kitchen. You boys hungry?”
“Yeah!” Hank said. “But we have two pages left until the end of the chapter. Can we finish?”
Derek made a show of thinking it over, even so much as looking at his watch before smiling and making his way over to the end of the bed to take a seat. “Yeah, sure, go ahead.” He listened to Hotch read the words his dad had read to him so many times as a child and wondered at how like him Hank looked, at how his dark eyes flickered over the words on the page as he tried to keep up with Hotch’s reading. Hotch who created little voices for everyone, Hotch who did atrocious accents (not worse than his own father, it turned out, but nearly)...Hotch who loved his son so much that he was in here caring for his feelings when he was the one in pain. Derek didn’t think he’d ever loved two people more than he did in that moment.
Until Jess walked into the room and snipped at them for making her dinner get cold. “Calm down woman, we’re comin…” Derek said, patting the bed. “C’mon Hanky. Go help your mean Aunt Jess get the table set. I’ll get slowpoke daddy out of your room.”
Hank slid the bookmark into their spot and set the book on his nightstand, ready for them to dive into again soon before following Jess dutifully out of the room. Derek looked over at Hotch and found himself just wanting to stare for a moment, just to take it in. The sight of that book hit him square in the chest, and after a long hard day, it was almost enough to make him cry. It was exactly what he needed.
“Are you okay with me reading that to him?” Hotch asked, misreading the look on Derek’s face. “If you were waiting to do it...I’ll find another book. I just needed a reason to put my foot up and reading to him seemed like the best idea.”
“No…” Derek whispered, clearing his throat. “No. Keep reading it. I just…” He didn’t have the words, not tonight. Maybe never. “You hungry?”
“No, but I’ll eat.”
“That’s the spirit.”
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chapter 1 : festival planning || not proofread, please correct me if i have made any mistakes about anything! 0.8k words
the usual afternoon filled with your brother and sister going around the city to do errands. this makes you wonder, what do you have to do? ayato handles government affairs, ayaka takes care of the internal and external affairs, how about you?
ayato told you to help out with ayaka if she asked for it, but so far, she hasn't said anything.
this becomes another day where you just walk around the estate, occasionally inazuma—to buy or greet people. you want to do something at least, to help with whatever's going on.
you pass by the grand narukami shrine and chinju forest on your way to the city, two of your favorite places to visit. not because of the people, more of the scenery.
the glowing flowers and clear water contrasts the warm lighting the lanterns provide in the forest and the dark colored torii gates. you remember the time you accidentally passed by your sister dancing for the traveler. you walk by a little further, and that's when you see the pink cherry blossoms of the city, just by seeing that scenery you can already hear the busy streets and chattering of the people.
you see foxes resting at the side, some of them even playing. you hear the sounds of metal clanking and the smell of miso ramen being prepared. you walked further and deeper into the city, to the second bridge filled with the cherry blossoms that fell from the trees. taking a turn and going to a more peaceful area, the teahouse.
you greet taroumaru with a head pat.
“thoma?”
“huh?”
then again, it's no shock thoma was here. there's food on the table, enough for four? five? people.
“f/n, you’re here earlier than usual.”
“oh.. right—i just wanted to go around inazuma for a bit.”
you welcomed yourself in the room and sat on one of the seats, directly facing thoma. he was using his left arm to support his head, his eyes wandering around the room.
“would you like some tea to pass by the time first then?”
“gladly, thank you. ayaka and ayato might take a while to get here, i haven't seen them at all around the city.”
he nods, then smiles. the sun from the windows reflecting on him, making his eyes shines. you feel your heart skip a beat, not from the door opening but from him, the man in front of you—putting tea in all of the cups.
“thoma, were here”
ayato goes in first, ayaka behind him. in just a few seconds your siblings started chatting away already, talking about whatever happened and everything you couldn't bother to pay attention to.
“oh, apologies we couldn't make it earlier, the upcoming festival kept me a little busy and ayato had to.. handle with some troublesome fatui.”
ayaka bows her head a little, a form of saying sorry.
“it's alright, i understand. the food isn't cold yet so dig in! ill prepare extras if you’d like.”
it was already sunset when they finished eating, sure he could have prepared it at the estate but it was much closer to them if he cooked and prepared lunch at the teahouse. he also had chores to do here anyway and he knew you liked going to the city, it's convenient for everyone.
“speaking of, where is this being held anyway? what's it about?”
you ask, turning your head to ayaka, beside you.
“its being held on amakane island, are you going to join?”
“not sure. i'd like to go to a festival with someone this time, but i don't know who.”
ayato flashed a smirk to ayaka, are they scheming something?
“well, i still have work to wrap up. thank you for the food thoma, and ayaka—you know already”
your sister nodded and they both giggled.
“thoma, are you free next week?” ayaka asked, drinking some tea from her cup.
“im free—im guessing this is about the festival..”
she nodded. alright, im convinced shes planning something.
“alright. then, ill get going as well—thank you thoma, f/n, be careful on your way home.”
“mhm, goodluck on your work ayaka”
thoma waved her goodbye and started cleaning up our dishes. he picked them up and put it to a stack, walking towards the room behind taroumaru. i follow behind and stop by with the owner, leaning over to the door frame
“will you be going too? its getting quite late.”
he asked.
“no, i plan on staying a little longer outside.”
“then,” he wiped his hands on the towel beside the sink. he placed the clean plates on the rack and stretched his hand out to me.
“care to join me for a walk then?”
“of course.”
you both made your way outside, the sun painting inazuma in warm colors. many people greeted thoma hi’s and thank you’s, one even gave him some wine, but you know he isnt good with alcohol.
he gave the near dogs and cats some food he had left over and exited the city right after, following the path to chinju forest again, you’ve memorized the route already so its quite impossible for both of you to get lost.
the walk home was silent, not the awkward silent—more of the comfortable one. and that silence soon breaks with the question;
“should i get some clothes for next week?”
@aphrodicts-imagination : main post
#thoma#thoma x reader#thoma x you#thoma fluff#thoma x reader fluff#thoma fics#thoma headcannons#thoma series#thoma genshin#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact reader fluff
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DANCING IN THE SHADOWS
fushiguro megumi x damian wayne
jjk x dc
in which two children of shadows find each other, learn to be human, and fall in love.
or
fushiguro megumi was born as a girl. but being a girl in the jujutsu society, as well a daughter of the zen‘in clan and the only daughter of the sorcerer killer with cursed energy, is dangerous. dangerous deadly. fearing for his daughter’s life, toji hides megumi‘s gender- fushiguro megumi is a boy. but hiding all his her their life, leaves megumi only with confusion and fear- fear of not being accepted how he she they is are.
tw // death, blood/injuries/torture, gender dysphoria (also known as gender identity disorder) suggestive themes, crimes and their workings in detail, gotham/jujutsu society in general
notes // please note that i myself do not have gender dysphoria or am transgender, genderfluid, nor demigirl/boy. i do not know how it is to feel born in the wrong body, or experiencing any kind of situations written in this fanfiction. i have done research, but do not take my word as law or right!! i was born as girl and identify as a girl too, i use she/her pronouns. i do however have friends, who identify with different pronouns than their biological/born gender. i know about this topic, but i repeat once again; do not take anything i have written about GD or any of the mental problems/illnesses as law!! everyone‘s experience is different, their feelings and situations too. i do have a bit of a deeper knowledge of most things thanks to psychology and pedagogy lessons. but i only have them since a year, i am by no means a professional. thank you for your understanding <3
author notes // welcome to the masterpost of my newest series!! i‘ve been working on this for a while no, and i hope people like it :) all chapters will be linked below, as well all extras regarding the series. even if the trigger warning list is rather long, i keep everything rather vague, not only is it rather hard to write everything super detailed but i also don’t want people to not being able read it because it‘s too heavy/dark. if you have any questions, comment or send me an ask, i‘ll gladly answer them :)
please note that this fanfic is only posted on tumblr!! if you see it on any other platforms, it has been reposted without my permission!!
sadly i can not put a 'read more' under the summary or else it will delete the next paragraph and just fuck up the information block in general, for whatever reason.
ON HIATUS BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED MY MAIN DRAFT 😭
0, ZERO
also known as CITY OF SHADOWS AND CURSES
- 1, MINUS ONE
also know as BIRTH OF A BLESSING
i, IMAGINARY UNIT
also know as SON OF VENGEANCE JUSTICE
-> more chapters coming soon!
EXTRAS
THREE PICTUR3 MOODBOARD
NIN9 PICTURE MOODBOARD
GOTHAM MEMES
SPOTIFY & LYRIC SNIPPETS
HEADCANONS
damian & megumi
ASTRANNE 2022
#damian wayne x fushiguro megumi#damian wayne#dc#dc robin#fushiguro megumi#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#dc crossover#jjk crossover#dc x jjk#jjk x dc#masterlist#dancing in the shadows#fushiguro megumi x damian wayne#🪐 galaxy milky way
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okay here we go-
time for my routinely slew of stream of consciousness appreciation for my favorite writers.
I may have found your account just a little bit ago but by god do i swear its shot to my list of favorites in an instant.
everything you write is so good??
like, insanely so.
seriously, thank you so, so much for sharing your works and thoughts with us here.
i love whatever you write and will gladly devour all of it hdbsb
especially since ellie may or may not plague the entirety of my mind, even more so sub ellie
you characterize her so well it nearly hurts, but it tugs delectably.
the way you describe things is divine and beautiful. i adore it, i really do.
im very excited for whatever you post next and just know ill be lurking <3
bye for now :)
i saw you like in my notifs, but.
i'm frowning
like actually, frowning
thank you so much :(
this means a lot to me. i really wish that i coul find the words to express how much it means to me.
it always makes me feel really nice and a little extra proud when people compliment my writing but this was genuinely just so kindhearted, and i really appreciate the hype
i do my best! i'm hoping that i can do better, and make you even happier.
thanks for lurking and i hope i can make you stick around <3
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so first of all i need rly need a bike. fucking nice. i have one but from what i remember its too tall plus its been in the garage for like 5 years. so thats a nice thing to waste money on
secondly i need more pants, some of the thinner ones are starting to get too small. again.
thirdly i was p much woken up with "you need to move rooms today" an hour before work like three or four months ago and i was told id be moving into a FINISHED room. it resulted in me complaining for 3 months that my room didnt have a heater, the lights in the entryway and room didnt work, and the light in the bathroom is screaming at me.
so instead of like. fixing any of this they just stole a lightbulb from the room i was in before i moved and put it in my new room. they also checked the lamp in the bathroom but "i cant hear anything" so they just didnt fix the screeching. i still havent gotten anew lightbulb in the hall and i finally got heater sometime during summer vacation
forth of all they also. keep fucking changing the rules. some of the people here will happily wait five minutes extra for people without them needing to ask and gladly comes knocking on tveir door, but some of them will tell you you need to let them know youll be 2 minutes late or theyll just leave without you. like what the fuck. i cant be a minute or two late so i can grab my fucking work clothes before i go to work??
why do some of these people get special treatment. why do they get extra care while i can be in my room crying for two days and noone notices. if im upset they usually dont talk to me unless im angry enough at them specifically to either scream or slam doors but any other person being sad warrants repeated attempts at a fucking intervention to fix everything. they dont come to my room if im not there for something they know id enjoy but theyll come get anyone else no problem. its person to person too so some of the workers very clearly have better communication and bonds with certain people and prioritize them and easily ask them to do stuff
i cant even talk to my fucking contacts or tell people when im so sad i dont know why im alive and im frequently forgotten about and ignored, and its not like i can say "i need people to actually show me im welcome and wanted because of how ive been treated in the past and how my brain is wired to anticipate social settings" xus thats not a real thing. im just being attentionseeking and whiny and ill just hear i "should be afraid to talk to people" and i "have to show initiative" and i shouldnt put the responsibility of whatever onto other people but like. its always been like that. im not welcome or expected unless im specifically invited, noone indirectly invites me then gets surprised that i didnt join or asks if im coming. most invitations are aimed at everyone too.
and im trying so hard too. i try so hard to fit in and act the way i think people would like, cus i know noone likes me when i try to just be myself, and somehow im still not likeable enougj. but if someones cranky or antisocial and generally harder to get to join or get out of their rooms thats fine, theyll try harder w that person. not with me though.
like. would be fucking nice if someone else could take the role of making sure im included because im wanted for once.instead of me having to do that myself and constantly worrying about it being a hit or miss. would be really fucking nice if someone could ask if im sad or upset in a genuine manner instead of fucking asking "how are you" or "what are you doing". noone asks how are you because they want to know how youre doing, they ask cus they want you to tell them youre okay so they dont have to talk to you. never in my life has either of thise questions meant anything other than say okay so i can congratulate myself for caring when i dont. its like saying hi. its not meant to be a real conversation.
like i really miss being able to say im not okay and being able to be angry. i literally cant do that anymore, im too numb to be angry, i dont know how to validate myself, none of my problems are big enough to be real, none of my feelings matter unless someone else says its ok to feel stuff, i cant say anything is wrong cus then im whiny and negative, i cant complain cus thats annoying and selfish, i cant have needs cus thats selfish, self centered, and egoistical and im not the only person in the world and im not the only one who matters, and i cant have stuff i want cus thats cringey. thats embarrassing.
i want a new house? i have one so why am i complaining, im only miserable cus im not trying hard enough to enjoy living there. i just need to go on walks daily and find something to do during the day. in an area where i dont know the forest with a budget of nothing if i wanna eat the last two weeks of the month without wasting my 1k nok in savings
i want family to come visit me? (not anymore but i used to) tough luck people have their own lives and are too busy to drive 30-45 minutes to spend a couple hours with me or help me with things they specifically told me theyd help me with like. once in a while. maybe even just once or twice a month. but if i call ahead i can take the train and come visit them for 6-8 hours minimum. i pay the ticket ofc. fuck them.
i want something new, like furniture im going to use or just a funky trinket i found or i want some new hobby materials for a hobby i wanna try? no i dont. you dont NEED that, you wont even use it, its a waste of money. no fun allowed.
i cant even talk about stuff i wanna DO or try or anything cus it doesnt matter. its not important so it doesnt matter. its not big enough. its all too small and its not interesting enough. nothing i say is worth listening to even if its the exact same shit everyone else talks about.
like. i just dont get it. theres clearly something very wrong here and i know my family is a huge reason for that but i just dont understand how everything works vs is supposed to work vs isnt supposed to work. i have no concept of normal and fucked up behaviour, i literally cant tell shit apart. i can tell when something upsets me, sometimes, but thats not a good enough reason to be angry or upset, and i cant base my social interactions on that. i cant tell if im uncomfortable or not either so thats fun. not that it matters.
like. idk. i just want a lightbulb so my room isnt so dark in the evening. i dont think its too much to ask. i dont think its an unfair accusation that i think itll take a week or two atleast before i get one and theyll forget i still need one for the entryway. they dont even have any extra lightbulbs so we dont have to go several days without a working ceiling light. they just never bought any.
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july 6th, 2023
back again as always but this time this entry will be dedicated the things i want to change most about my body, this... flesh mecha.
my hormones. i need hrt, my dysphoria feels like it keeps getting worse and worse every time i tell myself to just wait a little bit longer, til im just a bit more comfortable where i am, to have the money to afford it and pay for the prescription. i had remember having a dream a little recently of just offing myself because i couldnt take the dysphoria. im tired of putting in all the extra effort to appear feminine but if i stop no one at my work i feel will take me for who i am and customers will most definitely misgender me. i cant go through that every day again, that'll make things worse. at least if im on hormones eventually my body will have redistributed all the fat and muscle and what not and so i wont have to keep up with my stupid walk cycle or wear my makeup every time i go out.
my voice is another thing. i hate it so fucking much- i wish i could take scissors to my throat and cut out my fucking vocals thats how much i fucking hate them. my voice is so fucking masculine and no matter how much i practice and no matter what the fuck i do or say or how i pronounce certain words i feel like theres nothing i can do because it always cracks, it always comes out masculine even when my throat muscles are doing the right shit. i dont know what to do anymore im so tempted to just have shaving part of my vocals or whatever part of my transition because i cant.....
and also while I'm at it, i need bottom surgery as like second most highest priority because as i said before this dysphoria is going to kill me. i feel like i cant even enjoy masturbating because i want to have a pussy so fucking badly- i want to be the one thats being fucked- but thanks to the fact that i was born with a dick i cant enjoy any of that and unless im lucky and fascists dont overrun my country in our next election and somehow also they figure out how to give trans people full sex organ transplants that work and are safe AND i have all the money to afford it since its unlikely we're beating Capitalism™ and turn into an anarcho-communist society in the next 6 years i wont be able to because ill be stuck with having to make due with my ass. im not a fan of assplay honestly, as much as i dont want to admit this, my diet sucks and because of that my bowel movements aren't always the most consistent, which leads to accidents and then i have to not just deal with lube and (rarely, because its so stressful worrying about whether i can actually enjoy myself and orgasm or have to clean up early and feel gross, disgusting, and so dysphoric im damn close to just disassociating and spiraling into a depression pit deep enough to make dwarves gasp in shock and awe!! its awful, and its something that i just wouldnt have to deal with if i didnt have a dick. yeah id obviously deal with periods and all the cramps and mood swings and blood, and then id also deal with discharge but its all stuff i would gladly take and suffer with if it means i can put an end to this nagging feeling inside telling me im not good enough, im just a gross perverted monster, im a freak, and that i should just end it.
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Examine This Report on 5 Best Nail Salons in San Diego
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A service technician showed me a menu of their services and after browsing by means of the various styles of pedicures that they possessed to use, I’ve decided for the “Please me Pedi” with the optionally available paraffin wax which was an extra $7.00. The truth that I believe it's worth this acquisition because I was anticipating an remarkably lengthy product waiting to be supplied is something that would be really difficult to fathom.
After my pedicure service, I may honestly say that it was one of my greatest pedicures. After my company (I acquired sick of pedicurcated shoes) I felt like someone was trying to sell me something - all the wrong terms coming from some neighborhood business. I did discover that a lot of individuals along with poor pedicures weren't coming by. Some could presume I wasn't therefore ill because I didn't perform pedicure hard enough, or were really idle.
My foot and legs really felt rejuvenated! I then held my tummy for a even though and appeared down at the food to validate that it was helped make of the finest premium. It was the best snack food I could possibly take for lunch and appreciate immediately before making it for dinner. Only placed some coconut oil in, let it prepare for a couple of minutes – you'd know they were producing more… The other side of the club sandwich was incredibly scrumptious!
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Pointless gifs of Eskel being pretty (3/?)
#Pretty Eskel series#witcheredit#witcherdaily#Eskel#witcher3edit#The Witcher#Witcher 3 Wild Hunt#Witcher 3#gamingedit#i found some 60fps 1440p footage#and ohhhhh THE THINGS I CAN DO WITH IT#although 60fps is a pain in the arse to gif if you still totter around with cs2 like i do lmao#i think for smaller gifs in the future ill render the clips down to 30fps for giffing#but for these big ones of our pretty boy#ill gladly do the extra work#shit loks smooth as butter hhhhh#and he's so PRETTY#esp bc in the original scene u can't see shit lmao it's so dark#my gifs
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treating you when you're sick
includes: zhongli & xiao !
zhongli
The most doting man ever.
The moment he hears you're sick with the flu, he immediately pleads for you to go to bed. He's not panicking, actually he's quite calm in the whole ordeal, but there's a sense of urgency in his actions.
The hand placed on your burning forehead is cool, and you lean into his touch. He sighs while he checks your temperature, and he excuses your presence from work to take you home.
Zhongli doesn't pull his punches—when you tell him you're completely fine and you can manage to do at least a few commissions for the day, he instantly preaches it'd only make your flu worse. Facts fly out of his mouth and you couldn't find the opportunity to refute him, so you wound up taking a rest anyway.
He brews you some tea before tucking you into bed, telling you to be patient as he goes to purchase some medicine from a nearby pharmacy. He expects to see you not an inch away from the mattress—if he finds you back in your workplace, he wouldn't let you off with just a kind warning, so you wisely decided to obey him, but only for today.
When he comes back, he arrives with a few dishes he ordered from Xiangling. He carefully blows on the steaming soup before feeding you a spoonful. You're embarrassed to be treated like a child, but he laughs it off as he gives you another bite.
Speaking of being treated like a child... if your nose is runny, he doesn't hesitate from grabbing a tissue to assist you in blowing your nose. It's rather humiliating, but Zhongli isn't bothered in the slightest.
He's very attentive. If you show the faintest signs of discomfort, he'll quickly ask if you feel worse, or if you need anything else. His voice is as sweet as honey, though his eyes turn stern whenever you attempt to stand up, however.
If you have trouble falling asleep, he'll ask if you own a storybook. You're quite perplexed by his sudden question until he starts reading through it, no doubt using his ASMR voice to lull you into sleep.
“...I can't believe this is actually working,” you grumble as you grow drowsy. He hums in victory, placing down the novel on the table.
“Go ahead and rest,” he encourages, nothing but kind as he cups your cheek. You're all but unconscious at that point, and it truly is unfortunate you don't get to feel him kiss your forehead before you succumb to slumber.
xiao
Xiao is fully aware of how weak humans can truly be, but he can't help but scoff anyway when he finds you sneezing and shivering in the cold.
It had only taken you a shower of rain to fall ill—he ignores the concern bubbling up in his chest and exhales slowly.
“I told you to stay home yesterday, didn't I?” he prods, crossing his arms in nagging fashion. You fumble with your hands, avoiding his steely eyes. “I knew you'd get sick from the storm.”
“It was for work...” you weakly argue, and you can tell that wasn't the answer he wants to hear so you quickly add, “It couldn't be helped!”
His eyebrows crinkle together and he shoos you off to go to bed, ordering Verr to keep an eye on you. You pout at him, thinking he'd gone and ditched you for good, but you were too exhausted to deny the offer of a good sleep, so you gladly doze off on his bed.
Xiao doesn't really know how to take care of someone, so he tries his best, in his own ways.
He picks out fresh Qingxin flowers from stone peaks to brew some tea for your aching throat, remembering its medicinal properties from the book you gave him about herbs.
He buys a few candies you like when he passes by a confectionery shop, idly recalling how you disliked the bitter aftertaste of medicine.
He doesn't bother you when he finds you peacefully sleeping back at Wangshu Inn. Instead, he quietly nurses you back to health, deciding to wait until you woke up from your own volition to feed you your medication. He takes care of menial tasks like changing the wet rag placed on your forehead, and fetching you an extra blanket when he notices you shivering. He indulges in the comfortable silence as he clasps your hand.
Xiao's quite certain his presence wasn't necessary for your recovery, and you were already in stable condition, so he begins to stand up from his seat next to the bed, thinking it was just about time he made his rounds around Liyue to search for any potential trouble.
The faint squeeze of his hand stops him, and he turns back to see you looking at him blearily, eyelids still heavy from sleep. “You're leaving...?” you groggily ask.
He blinks at first, then his gaze softens. “I'm only off to get you a cup of water.”
He could spare ten more minutes. Probably.
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli imagines#zhongli#xiao x reader#xiao imagines#xiao
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[ ❄ ]— SNOWED IN.
⤷ pairing. roommate!miya atsumu x fem!reader
⤷ genre. smut, fluff, humor, college au, and they were roommates au
⤷ warnings. swearing, dom!atsumu, sub!reader, ass slapping, begging, atsumu is 1000% a tease, oral (male receiving), praise, choking on atsumu’s (large) dick, domestic sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please, be safe ya’ll), hickeys, *unedited
3.5k | being snowed in with a broken heater is anything but ideal. when your favorite thick blanket and the layers of fluffy sweaters no longer cut it, your roommate ask of you something you just can’t turn down.
five days.
it has been five days in which the snow storm forced you and atsumu to stay inside. the first day was fine. the power hadn’t went out and your heater was set to a temperature that you and atsumu agreed on. your phones and other electronics were fully charged and ready to use for emergencies or for quick netflix binges. everything was okay.
day two came a little harsher. waking up with your hairs on the back of your neck standing, you realized the power had finally went. it was sometime in the early morning, but even within a short time span the chilly air was still able to nip through the interior. no power meant no heater or hot water. the day dragged on just like anyone would expect. atsumu had complained for hours upon hours. screeching dramatically and throwing his body on the floor like a child who wasn’t allowed to eat candy before dinner.
day three was just as bad if not worse. no amount of blankets and thick winter coats could fight off the cold. you wake up with your teeth chattering, your body shaking, and to top it all off, you think you might be getting sick too. you could tell night had finally came when everything got immensely worst. your breath frosted and sneezing between you and atsumu was non-stop. this was also the day you proposed that the two of you cuddle up for extra warmth. it was a casual conversation that you had to murmur between glassy breaths.
reluctantly, atsumu agreed. at first, he turned away saying something about not “liking the cuddling lifestyle”. you rolled your eyes at his claim because everyone loves cuddles. you had gotten excited at the aspect of showing him what a good session can awaken within. your theory was proven right later into the night though. you rested your head on his shoulder, using some candle light to read through a chapter of a book you’ve been into recently. an exciting thriller that has you anticipatingly flipping through page after page.
atsumu was doing his own thing though. what it was? you didn’t know. really you weren’t paying attention. even when he hummed and grumbled lowly a few times, your brushed it off. not wanting to stray away from the words on the pages, you hoped he worked out whatever his problem is by himself. the last straw though was when his fingers slowly creeped up your thigh.
you shifted your attention, eyeing the man besides you. he boldly holds your stare. he’s daring enough to put on a nonchalant expression, face completely relaxed. his hues shine with something hidden behind them. something you can’t quite make out but they have you not wanting to look away. he doesn’t say anything and for a while the two of you just stare.
when you drop the book was when he finally pounced.
“’bout damn time,” he teases.
in seconds, he pulls you close. your back flush against his chest and his arms pulled you in by your middle, resting there. your sat in between his crossed legs. you had no words at first. everything had happened so fast. for a second you sit there wide-eyed and in shock, fazed and stare lingering in the darkness. then you felt the comforting warmth slowly creep in. when he spoke, the vibration in his chest felt inviting and things went lax again.
“keep your mouth open ‘nd a fly ‘ill get in there.” you can’t help but laugh.
“whatever happened to ‘not the cuddling type’, huh?”
“shut the fuck up,” venomous words but the way he dug his nose into your neck proved the opposite.
day four went the same way except now you were both all over each other. the night before had broken something between the two of you that wasn’t just roommates status anymore. he’s become a friend and someone you actually look forward to hanging out and talking with. you see pass his honestly and realize that he’s actually quite charming too. atsumu had thrown you tons of curveballs that day and getting to know him was fun. you recall when you where practically straddling his lap, your hands roaming anywhere and everywhere.
you faced him, eyes soft and laughter apparent because who knew he was a jokester too. gently caressing at his sharp jaw then sliding down to his firm pecs. your hands roamed his body like an ocean waiting to be ventured. with every feather-like touch, you learned another thing that day. miya atsumu is incredibly attractive. you’ll never admit it to him (because you also learned that miya atsumu has an incredibly large ego), but you must be insane if it took you a damn snow storm to realize something that’s so blaringly obvious.
day five was the day he came to you with that intimate proposal. cuddling in any and every position possible was something that was easy for you to do. you’ve warmed up with close friends, both male and female, so you could say that the special act doesn’t truly mean anything, but this– dear god, this man will be the death of you.
“you want to– what?” you practically screech. you jump back from his body, already missing the heat, but you want to look him dead in the eyes. his eyes, are the most expressive thing about him. atsumu can lie and tease but there was no getting past him when you gazed into his golden hues, but was he really saying what you think he was saying?
“cuddling and all that can only do so much, yanno?” silence. but he goes on anyway, “thought this was a more... practical solution.” and in pure atsumu matter, he doesn’t stray away from you. looking you dead in the eye with all the confidence in the world. there’s no teasing smile or sarcastic cackle. he’s serious. this attractive man that has women constantly falling at his feet... wants to fuck you.
“this is like for the warmth and all that... right?” you’re hesitant. he can see it in the way you look at him. your hues are clouded with all sorts of swirling emotions; concern, worry, uncertainty. he thinks about taking it back. but it’s far too late for doubt now.
“yeah, for the heat,” he repeats it to reassure you or maybe to reassure himself, he doesn’t know. atsumu sits before you. his hair messy from all the times you ran your hand through it and his cheeks are slightly colored pink. why was this such an awkward conversation to have? there’s a constructing feeling in his chest. he feels like he’s suffocating like every breath he takes is stopped by words trying to choke themselves out of his throat. perhaps it’s the cold finally getting to him or maybe it’s the way the candle light perfectly frames your face.
“so are ya in?”
it’s the way he bit at his lips that get you contemplating. the way he looked at ready to take you whenever and wherever you asked. it was the anxious way he his leg bounced and the ghost-like circles he was rubbing into your thigh. it set ablaze a trail of desire wherever he touched. it laced your veins with adrenaline and lust made for him by him. him, him, him.
when you leaned into his lips was when he finally got an answer.
“oh, shit,” you sink down on him as the words leave his mouth.
your lips wrapped around him and he mumbles something thing under his breath that you can’t really catch. the warmth from your tongue makes his stomach tighten. the sight from above looks incredible. your down on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and your sweet little ass on display just for him. atsumu lays right at the edge of your bed, legs spread just wide enough for you to kneel between them. one hand pets at your hair, lacing it between your locks.
the way you expertly circle his tip and how your hands play with his balls, makes him sees stars behind his lids. his stomach tenses with every swallow, every small hum that erupts from your throat. god, you are going to be the death of him. when you look up, you let out a small moan, absolutely loving atsumu’s fucked out expression. his thin lips pout at you, his chest is heavy and falls unevenly. it motivates you, the way he groans and grunts; the way he falls apart at your touch.
“just like that, doll. mhm,” he praises. when you look up, his eyes are half-lidded, clouded with lust meant only for you. a small smirk plays at his lips. he’s completely enamored, sweat beads at his forehead and you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.
your jaw goes slack when you feel his hips buck. you bob your head, gladly welcoming his shallow thrust. the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue while he forces you to slide further down makes heat between your legs pool. atsumu takes your humming as a sign to go deeper. soon you’re nose is pressed up on his skin and you’re choking on his cock.
“you’re so pretty like this,” he punctuates his praise with a harsh slap to your ass. the sudden movement makes you fly forward, effortlessly swallowing his dick down again. atsumu is clearly caught off guard. he let’s out a surprised mewl, hip stuttering at the overwhelming pleasure.
“fuck– with y- your mouth full of my cock.”
his grip tightens with every thrust. your scalp burns with all the harsh tugging. there’s droll and snot leaking down from your face but it’s all worth it. your lungs burn, begging you for any kind of air. like he was reading your mind, he lets off of you for few seconds. the lewd pop that follows after rips through the empty room as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on his face.
even with your heavy panting and watery eyes, atsumu doesn’t exactly let up. his length rest, merely inches away from your face. he pets at your hair, tugging your locks to give him more access to your neck. you shudder when he starts peppering your skin with soft kisses. your eyes flutter close, enjoying the way he nips and sucks at your neck. that’s definitely going to leave a mark, but you don’t find yourself caring.
his mouth goes to work while his other hand roams your valley. without hesitation, atsumu slides his hand lower cupping your ass. “fits like a gem,” you hear him mumble between sloppy sucking. the breath he lets out tickles your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
his hand slides up to your front, grazing your nipples through the thick lace of your bra. opening your eyes, you look up just in time to see his gaze darken. reaching higher, atsumu cups the back of your neck. there’s a moment in which he stills. golden eyes bore into your own hues. a plain of emotions swirl within him. admiration in the way he smiles at you, hunger in the way he bits his lips. his hair is messy, tousled with all the times you delicately laced your fingers through them and his lips are swollen from the way he was marking you.
there’s only one word that comes to mind; “pretty.” you didn’t mean it aloud, but when it comes to atsumu your brain short circuits and all sense is thrown out the window. you feel your face heat up at the embarrassingly simple compliment.
“speakin’ about yerself, now?” of course, he would. typical atsumu miya with his smooth words that make all the panties drop (including yours). you let out a breathy giggle, liking the way your checks ache with all the smiling. without another thought, his head dips down to your own capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
it’s lazy and sloppy. all teeth and tongue and no space to breath or think, but you like it like this. you like atsumu like this. raw, exposed, and yours. his hands roam to the back of your thighs, pinching slightly in hopes you get the hint. he wants you. now.
without breaking away, you lean into atsumu. his back gently lands on your sheets, pillows and blankets shaping his tone body to perfection. you brace your arms to help with the fall, successfully trapping him between your body.
“atsumu,” you say, breaking free.
“hhm?”
“please, fuck me.”
he chuckles, “say less, doll.”
pulling your sweatpants down, his big hands grope your ass in the process. he moves quickly, rushing to get you ready for him. in one swift moment, your underwear is gone and thrown carelessly somewhere.
“you’re so shameless, baby, with that demanding mouth,” flipping you over, you’re under him now. body perfectly, angled so he can see your pretty features shift whenever he fucks you just right. he loves seeing your mouth agape. loves how you hang off every word, how your body quivers with every touch, how you cry and moan his name. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful.
he leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s mere inches away from your cunt. his fingers brush against the thin lining of your panties. why you still have them on is beyond him. arousal leaks through the material while atsumu presses against your heat.
“ah– ‘tsumu,” your breathing is frantic when he presses a fleeting kiss on your clothes core. “you’re such a t-tease.”
he doesn’t say anything. allowing his actions to speak for him. he teases you, hooking his fingers under the thin lace. the way his cold digits brush at your heat makes for a delicious contrast.
“you look so good,” he purrs pressing a kiss to the inner part of your thigh. “and you’re absolutely fuckin’ dripping. bet i could just slide right into ya.” his fingers are relentless, they ghost over your clit tracing feather-like circles. it’s enough for short spikes of pleasure to rush through you but just as quickly as they come, they’re gone.
“do you want me?”
“god, yes.”
“beg for it then.”
like clock work, you do. “please, ‘tsumu. i need you so bad right now. your hands, your tongue, your cock-- everything. please, i just wanna feel you so bad.”
“ehh,” he ponders before pressing a kiss to your thighs. “could be better.”
it’s stupid the way your heart flutters at his playful teasing. looking up at him through your hazy eyes, you try your best to muster up the perfect puppy dog face. “please, ‘tsumu?”
he lets out a huff, “god, you’re so annoying.” everything happens so fast. one second, atsumu is softly pecking at your neck. the next he’s roughly grabbing at you, complete man-handling.
he pulls you impossibly closer. there is no warning or preparation. he rams himself into you, completely taken over by the way your tight pussy swallows him whole. the burn feels fucking painful, you can’t help the screams that tremble from your lips.
“oh my f-fucking-- mhpm, god!” he’s so big, in length and thickness. moans fill the room while he fills you up. your hot, wet walls clench around him and he groans at the delicious feeling.
“yer so fucking tight, holy shit.” he nuzzles his nose into your neck. “love this cunt so fucking much.” another slap to the ass that rips a deep moan from you.
“please, ‘tsumu,” you pant.
and at that moment, something within him finally snaps. pulling out from your sopping cunt, the tip of his dick rest within you, then in the same second he slams back into your entrance. lewd moans rip from the both of you while pure euphoria runs through your blood. you arch you back, pressing your chest to his, eyes rolling back every time he rams back into you. with each thrust and roll of your hip, his dick rubs at the spot that makes you see stars.
“you feel so good,” you whimper out watching as his dick pumps in and out of your pussy. “filling me up so good-- fuck, with your big dick.”
he shudders at your words, head coming down to latch onto your pebbled nipples. his tongue laps around the sensitive bud while his spare hand kneads at your other breast. a sharp inhale escapes you in between sobs. his hands are freezing from the chilly air within your apartment. it’s like ice on your skin, a complete contrast to how heated you feels. the feeling knocks you back into reality; you and atsumu are fucking in the middle of a snowstorm.
“how’s that feel, babe?” you answer him with a wanton gasp.
“absolutely fucking amazing,” you punctuate your pleasure with a deep roll of your hips. atsumu chuckles, a mix of a strangled moan and teasing.
“god, yer such a little freak.” he leans down again repeating his action to your other breast. deep thrust becoming more frequent now.
“only f-for you.”
your words spur him on, atsumu angles his hips to pound onto the one spot that has you crying out. he has your body shaking, his name tumbles out of your mouth like a mantra while he wrecks your body, moaning into your neck.
the knot of your pleasure tighten. it burns like a white hot coils that’s about to snap. he knows you’re close. with the way your pussy sporadically clenches around him making him groan. god, you’re almost there. he can feel it. your orgasm is right at the tip of your tongue. so close yet so fucking far. you need more and he senses that with the way you silently beg him. “harder, please-- oh, god.”
your words get caught on your tongue. he fucks right into you with a force so hard, you might have forgotten how to breath. “yes, just l-like that. hmph.”
“fuck yeah,” he groans, nipping your neck. “so good to me, fuck. such a good girl keeping me nice and warm and shit.” at that, you squeeze around him and he lets out a lewd groan. his cold digits travel down your body, rubbing circles around your messy clit. it’s all too much. the way he expertly runts into you, the pleasure his fingers give you, the way he praises you and nips at all your sensitive spots.
all you can manage at this point are a high pitched whimpers and pleas of his name. sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clench around him like a vice as he tries his best to fuck you hard. every thrust brushes right at your sweet spot, clouding your vision. a fire burns within you, leaving you gasping and moaning between sobs of air.
“cum for me, doll.”
and with his words and one last thrust, the coil finally snaps. pleasure rushes through your body in euphoric waves taking over you. your veins pump absolute bliss through you. atsumu follows soon after, painting your walls with spurts of his seed. overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure floods within you both like surges of electricity. his lips find yours as the last parts of your orgasm finally dies.
once he catches his breath, he pulls away smiling down at the way you look effortlessly gorgeous with his cum stuffed in you. you meet his hues too, mirroring the same exact smile.
your room is dark, curtesy of the snow covering your windows. candles flicker at your nightstand, painting the room in a dim, yellowish hue. fatigue hits you like a train. all you want is to lay down, close your eyes and welcome the sweet relief of slumber. shifting around, you turn on your side body molding perfectly spooning atsumu.
“sleepy already?”
the bedsheets shift towards you. despite having your eyes closed, you can feel atsumu’s hues on you watching the way your eyelashes fall perfectly on your cheek. you’re so warm and soft. effortlessly gorgeous with or without trying. your hair threads down on your pillow, spiraling to an abrupt end. he wants to run his hands through it, massaging at your scalp to sooth the aching.
then he reminds himself he can. when he’s meet with a mumbled response and a slight hum, he takes the hint. in your haze, you feel the weight of his arms wrap around your body cuddling up to you impossibly closer.
his breath tickles at your neck, “goodnight, baby.”
(atsumu eyes the way you fall lax within his arms. your legs tangled and wrapped within the thick layers of your comforter. his heart beat rapidly and the smile on his face, despite the exhaustion that laces his veins, can't stop. atsumu isn’t an idiot. he knows what all these symptoms mean, but for now that’s a talk for another time. for now, he’ll silently thank whatever god out there for the terrible weather that brought the two of you closer then ever before. for now, he’ll enjoy the way your body molds perfectly to his.)
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu!!#miya atsumu#atsumu#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#hq smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!! smut#miya atsumu smut#atsumu smut
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the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo - how y/n made friends with everyone
this is an extra to the great adventures series
requested: yes/no
warnings: cursing
tommy
you were actually friends with tommy when he was streaming to a few viewers, and you even watched as his channel grew. eventually he asked you to mod for him, as he knew he could trust you and because had experience being a twitch mod. he was also the reason you began streaming. as for how you met, you were in the same classes as him in highschool, and since you were the ‘quiet’ person in the class, they sat tommy next to you. honestly, you hated him when you first met him and the feeling was mutual. you didn’t want to sit next to the rather loud teenager and he had no one to talk to anymore as his friends were on the other side of the room.
“do you ever talk?”
“heh?”
“i said do you ever talk...do you always do that”
“do what”
“that fucking HeH.”
“are you mocking me simons?”
“noooo why would i do that...”
“it’s y/n.”
“right, yeah, yeah, i totally knew that.”
“great now please leave me alone i’m trying to work.”
“loser.”
“the fuck did you just say?”
“nothing.”
it was that moment tommy decided he was going to make you just like him, and a few years later that’s exactly what he did. by year 11 you and tommy had grown extremely close. the last day of school arrived a lot earlier than expected, everyone was extremely stressed, no one knew what to expect or what was going to happen. you found yourself hanging around with tommy a lot more as you had no idea if you would both be going to the same college, in september you received a text message that made your night:
tommy: college sent out emails telling you if you were accepted go check
*2 minutes later*
tommy: well?
y/n: i got accepted
tommy: me too
y/n: call me right now
tommy: i’m about to stream..have you ever considered streaming?
y/n: absolutely not
tommy: make an account and stream after me i’ll raid you..make me mod you know how people can be
once college started up, you were slightly nervous the two of you would drift away from each other. however this was far from the case, although you both did different subjects and he was only in on wednesdays, the pair of you would hang out together a lot more. he would be in your streams and vice versa, you would either be in his tiktoks, or you would be the one filming them.
“y/n make a tiktok we can be mutuals.”
“please god no.”
you spent so much time at his house either talking about random things, playing whatever game you could find, or streaming. he dragged you to every meet up he went on, allowing you to meet people such as niki, phil, and, wilbur. you didn’t know this, but he would constantly bring you up in conversations with dream, which eventually lead to you joining the smp in october where you would later be able to meet the likes of jack, technoblade and jschlatt. the only person you didn’t seem to see on the server was his other friend tubbo.
ranboo
you had become friends with scott after being his first twitch mod and when he noticed you started streaming, he was extremely supportive, always raiding your stream once he ended his. today you found yourself bickering with scott because he wouldn’t let you in mcc despite the fact you were ‘the best minecraft player.’
“y/n, i watched you die in minecraft 7 times last night within 5 minutes.”
“oh i’m sorry mr perfect, let me in mcc.”
“no.”
“fine i’ll make my own.”
and that’s exactly what you did..well you tried your best.
you started your stream as soon as scott ended and had him call you on discord after explaining to your chat what you were about to do.
“scott final chance let me in mcc, i’ll settle for access to the practice server.”
“fine.”
“REALLY?!”
“absolutely not!”
“fuck you, ill be in it one day!”
you left the call telling chat you didn’t need that negative energy in your life.
you really have scott to thank for you making friends with ranboo, scott made a tweet explaining what you were doing on stream which caught ranboos eye.
Smajor1995: after not making it into mcc again my good friend @y/n has decided to take it upon themselves to make their own on stream!! ill also be in the stream (if they answer my calls) *twitch link*
ranboo joined your stream and was instantly met with you yelling at scott (again) to let you in mcc.
“IM YOUR TWITCH MOD!”
“i will ban you from mcc!”
“you don’t have the nerve... so he left the call this is bullshit watch me land this water bucket clutch down this ravine so we can find axolotls and build an army.”
*you died*
you pulled your hood over your face before sinking down your chair taking a deep breath.
“FUCK!”
you calmly got back up and looked into your camera.
“i was so close, so very close.. HEY CHAT SCOTT SENT ME A LINK TO THE SERVER!”
a few minutes later you were able to get onto the server, only to be kicked less than a minute later. the reason you were banned being ‘i watched you fail the water bucket clutch down a ravine.’
you continued your build on your server and just spent the rest of the stream talking about anything that crossed your mind, that was until you decided to copy ace race. once finished, you looked into your camera and pulled your microphone closer to you.
“so this is race ace, so scott doesn’t sue me, and basically it’s going to be this course, but i’m going to change a random section practice it every day, not tell anyone it changed. of course i’m going to tell my team we have to win, oh fuck i forgot scott was watching my stream..it’s okay he didn’t hear me he’s too busy planning how he can rig the next mcc.”
ranboo found himself enjoying your content and even noticed you in his chat multiple times.
“just a minute chat i’m just sending an important dm to my mods.”
that’s when you noticed chat paused for a minute after you sent a message, it confused you for a minute before realising ranboo made you a vip on his channel and you decided to do the same for him on your channel, from there you added each other on discord. the pair of you made friends extremely quickly, you were constantly part of his streams as you would call him on discord not realising that he was streaming.
“hi y/n, by the way i’m streaming”
“i just wanted to ask if you knew how to break into a house?”
“....why”
“i locked myself out by accident and my parents are asleep come help me.”
“you are in the uk.”
“okay? catch a flight.”
chat honestly loved you and your friendship with ranboo. the pair of you only met a few weeks ago and you were already acting as though you had known each other for years.
jack
you and jack met for the first time on the smp, which would have been fine, however you met during lore and your characters weren’t exactly the best of friends. once lore had ended, everyone said their goodbyes and left the call. a few moments later you received a discord message from jack asking if you were available to call any time soon. since you were back in lockdown, you had plenty of free time. you arranged a time and date a few days later you called jack, where you had your first proper interaction out of character.
“hello jack!!”
“oh hi y/n i just thought it may be a good idea to get to know each other, well you know considering we’re both on the dream smp.”
“yeah, yeah, i understand what you mean.”
the pair of you ended up getting along with each other, it was slightly awkward for the first 5 minutes of the call, but that was expected since you hadn’t really met jack before and were anxious to call him. however, after that the conversation started to flow and you found out the pair of you had a lot in common making it easy to come up with things to talk about. it ended up feeling as though you were catching up with a friend you hadn’t spoken to for a while.
“has anyone told you your accent is really strong.”
“so is yours, y/n, what the fuck is that supposed to mean.”
“it means your accent is strong, duh.”
jack asked if you’d like to stay in call and join him on the smp whilst he streamed, and you gladly accepted the offer as you really didn’t want to do your college work, and you were enjoying your time with him. a few minutes into the stream jack had killed you several times.
“JACK STOP KILLING ME!”
rather than answering you he just sat laughing. he then went on to attempt to mute him microphone, he failed. however he didn’t realise this, so you sat listening to his plan on how he was going to kill you again. this time you were prepared, you sent a message to tommy telling him to log on along with your location. few minutes later tommy was by your side and helped you kill jack several times for revenge.
“Y/N...TOMMY!!”
“you didn’t mute your mic, so i told tommy you were bullying me.”
“im gonna go...BYE JACK, BYE Y/N, ILL SEE YOU SOON!”
“i can’t believe you.”
“hey you’re the one who didn’t turn your mic off.”
“how did you know?”
“i had your stream on my other monitor.”
“ayeee you watch my streams?”
“...i’ve been a sub for 4 months.”
the two of you stayed chatting and playing for another hour. the pair of you were already so close and you had only met each other the other day. this was just the start of your friendship, soon enough you were in a laugh and the stream ends challenge on his stream, however due to lockdown rules this was done over discord leading to you accidentally leaving the call several times.
“and they’re gone again!”
*4 minutes later*
“SORRY JACK IM BACK!”
“stop leaving y/n!”
“oh i’m sorry, let me just go yell at my wifi to stop cutting out!”
a few seconds later you could be heard faintly in the background screaming at your wifi as it would continue to buffer. as soon as restrictions were over one of the first things you decided to do was go to jacks and stream a laugh you lose where there was a punishment if you were responsible for losing the last heart. however everything was apparently hilarious in person as you would constantly laugh, meaning you were responsible for losing the last heart.
“y/n give me your phone.”
“no.”
“you lost let me tweet from your account”
“fine..”
soon enough your fans and friends with your notifications on received this twitter notification
“y/n: jack is so cool and funny he is also really tall i am not”
tubbo
tubbo was actually the last person you met and made friends with, your community were convinced for some reason that you both didn’t like each other and that’s why the pair of you didn’t talk to each other. this was far from the case you were both waiting for the right time, tubbo was an extremely busy teenager and you didn’t want to interrupt him, and tubbo knew you were currently in a stressful position since you had recently joined the dream smp, also you were still meeting people so he didn’t want to stress you out. this doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be your friend, he actually asked tommy since he had been your friend for at least 4 years what would be the best way of getting to know you.
“mate they hated me when we first met, just talk to them or something. you could have met them the last time i went up to visit you, but they ended up not feeling too good and went back to the hotel room.”
“when are you next coming up?”
“how about next week, and i’ll bring y/n, i really don’t understand why you’re nervous tubbo, it’s y/n they wouldn’t hurt a fly..well hmm.”
“see you next week then!”
a week later tommy dragged you to the train station.
“uh tommy where are we going?”
“...on a train.”
“no way, really? oh my god!”
a few hours later you finally got off the train.
“ill go with my dad to check into the hotel room, do you want to come with us or?”
“i think i’ll go for a walk and stretch my legs.”
“right okay, meet you at the beach later”
you spent a few minutes walking around the beach picking up any rocks and shells that caught your eye, little did you know it would result in you meeting tubbo. once you finished putting your new collection in your pockets you noticed a small crowd of people walk up to someone asking for pictures assuming it was tommy you walked over to the boy, it wasn’t tommy it was in fact tubbo. at first you stayed silent not wanting to really cause attention to yourself. you only spoke up when some people started to make inappropriate comments towards him.
“oh sorry to be a pain guys me and tubbo have plans with tommy in a few minutes, we should go so we’re not late. bye guys.”
you smiled and waved as they walked away. you looked over to tubbo, you could tell he was still pretty anxious about what just happened and honestly if you was in his position, you would react the same way.
“we should probably move from here incase they come back and see you’re still here, are you okay?”
“im feeling better now it’s over..thank you”
“oh it’s no problem i’m, y/n btw.”
“wait you and tommy were still meant to be on the train.”
“the train was actually on time, tommy went to check into the hotel i wanted to stretch my legs, i also wanted to collect some rocks.”
“did you collect enough or did you want more?”
“im not going to say no if you wanna go collect some with me.”
the pair of you walked around keeping each other close incase the people from before returned. half an hour later, the pair of you sat on a bench close to the beach so you could show tubbo everything you decided to pick up, he ended up keeping a rock he liked to have as a memory. tubbo wrapped an arm around you as it was getting cold whilst you watched the sunset.
“tubbo i think tommy forgot about me.”
“you can spend the night at mine, i’ll send him a message to let him know.”
“are you sure?”
“of course!”
“this has to be the most unsafe thing either of us will ever do, we hardly know each other and now i’m staying at yours.”
tommy sent you a message explaining that he didn’t forget, there was a problem at the other hotel and they had to go find another one, but you’ll be fine to stay at tubbos for the night. the pair of you spent the entire night learning as much as you can about the other person. it had only been an evening but you already knew the pair of you would be great friends.
taglist:
@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee
#mcyt x reader#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt writing#mcyt imagines#mcyt imagine#mcyt reader insert#mcyt fluff#mcyt x platonic reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt x you#tubbo x y/n#tubbo x you#tubbo x reader#tubbo imagine#tubbo fluff#tommyinnit x y/n#tommyinnit x you#tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit fluff#tommyinnit imagine#jack manifold x y/n#jack manifold x you#jack manifold x reader#jack manifold fluff#jack manifold imagine#ranboo x y/n#ranboo x you#ranboo x reader#ranboo fluff#ranboo imagine
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