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#no way will he harm his liver
thecrimsonmonarch · 2 years
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[JL Watchtower]
Batman: *alert, expression grave* We have an emergency.
Superman: *springing into action* Let's go, you can tell me the details on the way --
Batman: It's me. I'm the emergency.
Superman: *frowning, examining Batman with x-ray vision* No broken bones, no internal bleeding... what's wrong?
Batman: I think I'm drunk.
Superman:
Superman: You don't drink.
Batman: I had canned coffee. From the pantry. There's crateloads of them.
Superman: *remembering Flash's newest concoction* Oh
Batman: At first I thought I was just being affected by the sugar.
Superman: *remembering Flash mentioning that he had them specially made for his high metabolism* Oh no
Batman: You know I don't consume much sugar, Clark. I'm not used to it. I thought it was The Sugar Rush™
Superman: How much did you drink?
Batman: I'd already drunk two cans when I read the fine print. I --
Batman: *clutching Superman's shoulder, carefully enunciating* I imbibed two whole cans, Clark. Of metahuman-grade Irish Coffee.
Superman: *supporting Batman's free arm, keeping him from acquainting his face with the floor* Oh no
Batman: I feel strange. I made small talk in the cafeteria. I might've cracked a joke at some point. I almost told Green Lantern he did a good job on the last mission.
Superman: Wow
Batman: But he didn't do a good job, Clark.
Superman: *lips pursed, corners twitching* Mhm
Batman: My mental faculties have been compromised. I feel... bubbly.
Superman: *controlling his breathing*
Batman: I cannot be seen bubbly, Clark. I'm Batman.
Superman: *shoulders shaking, eyes glistening*
Batman: You need to get me out of here before I run around the cafeteria complimenting everyone.
Superman: Okay, just -- give me a sec --
Superman: *sniffling* I'm memorizing every detail of this conversation so I can replay it forever
+
[Later, at the Batcave]
Superman: *flies in with Batman in a bridal lift*
Batkids: !!!!!!!!!
Nightwing: We received his emergency alert --
Red Hood: What the fuck happened --?
Nightwing: -- he wasn't responding --
Robin: Is Father conscious --?
Red Robin: I'm getting Alfred --
Superman: GUYS, guys, calm down
Superman: *puts Batman down on his feet* B's just drunk.
Batman: *stands straight, dusts his shoulders, opens his arms*
Batman: Daddy's home.
Nightwing:
Robin:
Red Robin: Okay, pause everything, I’m getting a camera *runs off*
Red Hood: *unblinking* Is this real
Batman: How are you boys this fine evenin'?
Robin: It's 4 AM
Nightwing: Why is he speaking with a southern accent?
Superman: He's been cycling through accents since liftoff. No idea why.
Red Robin: *returning with an 8K camera in hand* BEHOLD, the reclusive Gotham Bat in his natural habitat…
Batman: *staring at the lens, hands lifting his cape open at shoulder-height*
Batman: *fangs bared* I bid you velcome.
Red Hood: *still unblinking, unmoving* This is the best day of my entire life
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“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”
“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.
It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.
It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.
Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.
At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.
(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)
But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.
The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)
On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)
Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)
Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.
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realbeefman · 6 months
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house and wilson are both committing malpractice but in like. opposite ways. house is so detached from his patients that it sometimes actively harms his diagnostic process and almost always causes unnecessary distress/harm to his patients but wilson is so. so disgustingly disturbingly attached to every single person he treats. he sleeps with patients he gives his liver to a guy who doesn’t even know his name his office is a literal monument to the items he’s collected from everyone he couldn’t save. they’re both incapable of maintaining or respecting personal boundaries but it manifests in vastly different ways.
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brittle-doughie · 8 months
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Top 10 most obsessive/possessive Cookies in your opinion, go! (excluding White Lily because she would be at the top lmao)
Bro, you did WL dirty lmao.
10. The Tears of the Ocean - Sea Fairy Cookie
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While not as easy to aggravate compared to the other Y/N Cookie club members, Sea Fairy is still a legendary and can easily sweep away competition if she chooses to. Fire Spirit is the only cookie she’ll be quick to get aggressive with.
9. Loyal Until the End - Caramel Arrow Cookie
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Being a watcher meant Caramel Arrow couldn’t bring herself to harm others so easily, she’s instead incredibly protective of you and WILL draw her bow at threats. Laying a hand on you is a sure fire way to catch a arrow from her. Affogato Cookie is on-sight.
8. Protective Judgement - Dark Cacao Cookie
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Like Watcher, like king. Dark Cacao will always have you by his side, he insists. There was something about you that he held dear, something that he needed to protect. He won’t tolerate any mistreatment from you, it’s a quick punishment for the perpetrator. You have your own spot in his quarters, it was a more preferable option to him then having your own room.
7. The Persistent Priestess - Pomegranate Cookie
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Pomegranate Cookie’s secondary objective is you, to bring you into the darkness. Your soul was nothing she’s seen before, it was pure, it…was precious. She’ll curse any cookie that gets in her way of having you on the same side, she’ll take anything from you that she can get, with or without your knowledge.
6. The Dancing Danger - Lilac Cookie
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Do not be surprised if the cookies you know start falling ill, it may be a sign that Lilac Cookie is watching. He’ll always say it’s for your protection, you never know when these cookies might turn on you, he’s just dealing with a problem before it becomes one. He’s only making them sick, it’s not like he’s straight up crumbling them….yet.
5. The Alluring Beauty - Kumiho Cookie
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Normal: Not really being affected by her charms made you a breath of fresh air to Kumiho Cookie, she took a major interest in you with this fact and will try whatever she can to get your attention. Just don’t mind the cookies around you missing their cookie livers, it just meant they were getting too close to you. :)
Heartbreak Route: Kumiho is much more persistent, she had never felt true love until you had been honest with her that day. It aches her heart to know that she passed on your feelings, believing it was because of her charms. She’s more volatile like this, taking any interaction you have with others as potential threats to her goal. Has particular dislike for Blueberry Pie Cookie.
4. Your Best Pal - Croissant Cookie
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She has stuck by your side since your first day at the TBD. Croissant Cookie was so happy to see you earn your honors as a handycookie, it meant that you two could spend time together as you fixed things alongside her engineering prowess. It…really blinded her to the fact that other cookies like Coffee Candy or Baguette Cookie had taken a liking to you too, something that she aims to fix by being your best and ONLY pal. Keeps you away from Timekeeper Cookie for obvious reasons.
3. His Only - Fire Spirit Cookie
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Fire Spirit Cookie has butted heads with Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie when it comes to you, he needed you more then they did. Fire Spirit..isn’t exactly that popular with other cookies, so having you as a friend was a godsend to him, that a cookie like you would want to associate with him. It’s something he treasures deeply, but tries to pass it off as him going easy on you. Wind Archer and Sea Fairy Cookie can try all they want, but he’ll be extinguished before he’ll allow you to be pried from him.
2. Stinging Shock - Scorpion Cookie
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Lilac Cookie at least doesn’t end cookies right away and gives them a chance to regret their decision to be close to you, Scorpion Cookie…won’t be giving them that luxury. If she deems a cookie too much of a hassle, she’ll just remove them from the equation. By the time the cookie has realized what hit them, it will all be too late as she watches them crumble away…she dabbles in poisons, not cures after all. So cookies can have fun finding that cure, if there is any to begin with…
1. Baroness of the Sea - Black Pearl Cookie
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Normal Route: Why would Black Pearl Cookie want to sink a cookie so…precious looking? Normally, she’d have you at the bottom of the sea by now, but…she couldn’t bring herself to do this to you…what was this about you that has her feeling like this?! This confusion only makes her frustrated, so she’s keeping you with her until she can pinpoint this feeling. She hopes you enjoy your new home in the depths with her…
Heartbreak Route: “You hastily closed the door before locking it, you knew it would do little to protect you from her, but you needed all the security you could get. You avoided the window, there was no telling if you looked out that window, that two glowing eyes would be staring right back at you in the waters. You could hear the faint sound of crying in the distance, the waters were unhappy, she was unhappy. She knew you were here, it was why she hadn’t just annihilated the Lower City already. She was just waiting for the right opportunity to drag you into the darkness of the water’s depths with her…”
At least Black Pearl Cookie is limited by the water, if she wasn’t, she’d be a true cookie to fear for the readers
But since it wouldn’t complete the ensemble today, there’s at least one cookie that will stop at nothing, absolutely nothing, to make sure you’re hers.
You saw it coming
0. The Undying Flower - White Lily Cookie
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I had to do it to ya, I’m sorry Anon
Escape Difficulty: Impossible
You sealed your fate after spending time with White Lily Cookie regardless of AU, she’s your biggest cheerleader and unofficial girlfriend who’s quick to poison rivals at the mere chance of them getting friendly with you. She’s near impossible to lose and tends to just appear somewhere close by whether you’re on your own or with other cookies.
She’s an ancient cookie for a reason, few cookies will survive a fight against her, so it’s for the best that your so called “friends” back off from you before she taints their very strawberry jam.
Her only limitation is her other ancient friends, but they’re on thin ice before her paranoia gets to her and she joins in on the conversation. She has earned the title of Y/N Cookie cult leader for a reason.
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bingusbongu · 25 days
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you write for so many characters that I absolutely adore oml.
Could you write some kind of Alastor x new-to-hell reader? (I feel like this would be really interesting :3)
Also since I'm likely gonna be putting in a lot of reqs I'm claiming an Emoji (🖋 <- this one) so you know which anon this is teehee
-🖋
♡A/N: RAAAAAAA HELLO I KNOW YOU GFYFGG im glad you found my blog!!! I also made sure to make this on this specific day for you,,, ♡
Masterlist
Rules
Alastor x New Sinner Reader!
Tw: mentions of death and murder, and of stalking
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• okay, the fact you manage to catch the eye of NONE OTHER than the famous and feared Radio Demon is beyond believable
• your new, you must have done something to become his intrest. I dont think he will just pluck you out of the streets as soon as you spawned because he wanted to
• maybe you found yourself in the middle of a turf war or spawned while he and some other demon were in a battle. Maybe you killed another demon on pure accident. And maybe, due to him working with Charlie, maybe he decided not to kill you instantly and offered you the hotel. Since you are new, perhapse you wanted redemption? Hell knows that charlie would be ecstatic to have a new member!
• so, you go with Alastor to the hotel! Meeting an overjoyed Charlie and the rest of the crew!
• though, Alastor kept his eyes on you. Your new, he couldnt have a new member of the hotel accidently step into a war of some sorts and have yourself killed the moment he looks away.
• so, you being as clueless as you are, Alastor reluctantly decided he was going to teach you what to do and not to do in hell! Charlie thought it was a wonderful idea, finding it unbelievable that Alastor was the one to come up with the idea AND go along with it
• so, Alastor would take you out of the hotel and teach you certain things, like how to categorize lower level demons and higher ranking demons, how to protect yourself while walking the street from others who want to harm you
• "no no, you go for the heart, thats the liver"
• after you manage to learn alot from Alastor! Suprisingly, he is quiet a good teacher! But, instead of leaving you to yourself, he would be found occasionally hanging around you
• others would take notice how they always were able to find Alastor wherever you are, and when confronted about it, he would completely shoot down their question and change the subject
• Alastor thought you needed more protection. Though he did teach yoi how to take care of yourself, he still found a need to watch over you, to protect you. A worm of worry that wiggled in his chest when he cant spot you in the hotel.
• Alastor dosnt bring you along to his meetings, to keep his reputation and to protect you from certain eyes. If you are with the Radio Demon, then you have a bigger target on your head
• though, he does sometimes take you to his visits with Rosie!
• she adores you, finding you the cutest little thing. She sure was suprise to find a new sinner with Alastor, and one Alastor was so protective over, but she left it be, finding you precious and telling you stores from her time while sharing tea.
• though, a few of the staff of the hotel were,,, concerned for you. Husk especially. Having the Radio Demon on your back was certainly something new and worrying to him. Maybe he got you under contract, too. When he asked you about it, you shrugged it off and smiled like you hadnt even noticed! It baffled him, and how your mood didnt seem to dim when Alastor came around to check up on you.
• Vox, well, lets just say he may or may not have been the first overlord to actually notice you and your presence with Alastor. He has camaras everywhere, especially hidden outside of the hotel, he dosnt miss anything. So when he realized that the Radio demon was being friendly with a someone new he was not a happy camper
• he ended up confronting Alastor about it during their next meeting. And the way he quickly shut up apon noticing Alastors mood shift when you were mentioned had him traumatized. Velvet had to help him fix his screen after that
• Alastor is quite protective over you, even if you dont realize it, he has one of his little weird minions keeping an eye on you at all times when he isnt there, just to make sure you dont do something stupid.
-EXTRA-
• if you, instead of being a weak newcomer, started making a name for yourself withoit wasting any time, maybe killing off demons left and right or taking down a few overlords, you definitely have his attention
• you remind him of his old new sinner self, so he happily makes his presence known to you, and openly offers to guide you to make a name for yourself like he did
• he would show you how to take down even the most powerful overlords, collect souls to feed your power, and even how to keep your clothes from getting messy after killing so many!
• you are much like his apprentice. Following him wherever he goes and listening to him teach you about something.
• if you become powerful like him, you two become a quick and good duo! Both pf you being feared!
• though, he still makes sure you dont hurt yourself. No matter how powerful you have become, he makes sure you dont slip up and hurt yourself, or let someone hurt you. <3
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papaver-decervicatus · 7 months
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Headcanons- Sobieslaw "Gromsko" Kościuszko
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Is not-so-secretly displeased that no one can pronounce his name. He is absolutely a Polish Culture fanatic and is incredibly patriotic. It bothers him that people either can’t or aren’t willing to learn how to say his name. 
For this reason, a quick way to get in his good books is to practice his name and get it right to him. If a pretty girl does it, he’s not-so-subtly hearing wedding bells. 
Lowkey misogynist, very traditional
Wants a wife and kids. No kids are a deal breaker for him. 
Wants a wife who will clean and cook for him when he can fix stuff around the house and earn income with the military
Grew up with 4 siblings, two brothers, and two sisters, they all have the most Polish names imaginable. 
Desperately wants at least three kids.
Generally very outgoing and boisterous. Is commonly told that he’s “too loud”
His response is to smile and laugh even louder than previously. 
The exception to this is when he’s embarrassed, which is incredibly infrequent. He will get quiet and turn red if he does anything particularly stupid
He bought a copy of Silence of the Lambs thinking it was a field cooking guide. He gets genuinely flustered when people bring it up
Reads a lot in his off time, and learned English from reading almost exclusively 
As such he mispronounces words in ways that people that learned from English speakers typically don’t, like pronouncing “chassis” like “chass-iss” not “chass-ee”
If anyone brings it up he blue screens for a second and argues back that that makes no sense and why can’t it be phonetic? 
He inadvertently started a book club with Reyes, Nova, and a few other SpecGru operators by asking around for books to practice with. 
Sleeps naked or in very tight boxers much to his bunk mates' chagrin. 
He has the unique habit of sleeping on his arm and holding his pillow to his chest and between his legs when he’s asleep. 
It’s because his right knee is damaged from a particularly rough infill landing, having his knees together when he sleeps is really painful
Everyone assumes it’s something to do with humping his pillow because he’s just. Got no shame like that, but it isn’t actually. 
Has no insecurities appearance-wise. He is how he is and people can like that or not, he doesn’t give a shit. 
Cocky? confident? Self-assured? 
all of the above and then some. 
Magic touch when it comes to being a medic. He has stabilized people who damn well should have bled out and died on the field. 
He should be a bad medic because he’s so loud and aggressive on the field
And yet, he’s nearly always right on target and right where he needs to be to help someone out. 
His whole demeanor changes from patient to patient. 
Otherworldly sense of what people need emotionally when they’re hurt.
Need someone to empathize with you? He’s already telling you how much your family back home needs you to pull through. 
Need to get your mind off the pain? He’s telling you knock-knock jokes that don’t really make sense in between stories of his childhood misadventures. 
Need someone to kick you into gear? He’s spitting in your face about how you can’t just give up now and die like a fucking dog. 
Need some peace and quiet? He’s holding your hand and stroking your wrist with his thumb, only providing pulses of pressure to keep you in the moment. 
Absolutely capable of gentleness and caring, but just does so very infrequently. 
He is kind, not nice. 
He will help out anyone with anything without being asked to, but he’s gonna make fun of them the whole time. (Playful banter, he means no harm by it)
Much more likely to be “nice” to a woman or a child than a man. 
Handles his liquor poorly at the moment, will get black-out drunk without batting an eye, and yet somehow never gets hungover. 
The others are convinced he takes medical supplies for homemade hangover cures, he doesn’t but he lets them think that. 
Superior Polish genes, baby. His liver is the strongest thing about him. 
He does not necessarily need to be “the alpha male” in any given room or situation, but very much commands a certain kind of attention. 
This man occupies space. Wide stance, a loud voice, a louder laugh, and the personality of a wrecking ball. His ego is through the door before he is. 
Despite this, most of his coworkers don’t really find him all that jarring because he doesn’t demand subservience. He knows his station and does not need validation outside of it. 
He doesn’t care to be a leader, it’s not that he’s opposed, he just has a different skill set. 
He tends to wander on the battlefield, always hyper-vigilant to where he is needed most. 
His weapon of choice is a rocket launcher. 
AVADA KADABRA KURWA 
BOOM
He and Soap are on the top of the “UNDER NO FUCKING CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOWED TO USE A ROCKET LAUNCHER” list, followed closely (and inexplicably) by Farah?
Read about that story here!
Despite being in a profession centered around fixing people/caring for wounds, has a natural tendency towards destruction. 
Soldiers' vocabulary all the way. Every 5th word is a swear, and that’s on a “clean” day.
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loversj0y · 5 months
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bad day?
cc!wilbur soot x gn! reader
TWs: dissociation, explicit implications of self harm, blood
word count: 2.1k
note: please, please, please, heed the trigger warnings. i have been going through a rough time and i wrote this fic as a coping mechanism, so please be aware of what you are going into. it's not my best work but it brought me some comfort to write it, so i hope it may bring you some comfort to read it
There was blood on your hands. 
Why was there blood on your hands?
You looked up in the mirror. It took a few minutes to recognize where you were. You didn’t recognize yourself, but you knew you were looking at yourself. 
You were standing at your sink. There was blood on your hand, dripping into the sink. Fuck. 
You were slowly coming to, turning on the water from the sink and gently running your wrist until the tap. You held in a whimper, hissing at the feeling. As irritating as it was, the cool water and the sting helped ground you more and more into yourself. Once you washed the majority of the blood off your hands and arm, you sighed, slowly taking a seat on the bathroom floor. You couldn’t stand staring at the stranger in the mirror anymore. Opening up the cabinet, you pulled out the first aid kit, nestled at the back behind Wilbur’s spare hair products. The first aid kit collected dust most days now. It almost felt like it was mocking you as you opened it up, pulling out some supplies.
You made quick work out of cleaning. You didn’t want to have to stay here staring at your arm for any longer than you had to, and you’d rather not still be here on the floor when Wilbur got back from filming. After you were properly bandaged, you pulled a hoodie on and just collapsed straight into bed. You had no conscious idea of what time it was, but you felt exhausted regardless. 
You stared at your bandage for a few moments, tracing the line of where the gauze met your skin. Wilbur taught you how to do it properly. Your recovery was no secret to him, and he had always been incredibly supportive. However, the first time he had seen the way you bandage your arm, he looked almost appalled and immediately pulled out the first aid kit again. 
“Darling,” he was chuckling lightly, as if the issue was something far lighter than it was, and it made you feel more at ease as he started undoing the bandage you had done. “I’m going to teach you how to do this properly, alright? I don’t want you getting an infection on me.”
“And how do you know how to do it properly?” You asked, eyebrow raised. 
He hummed, pulling out some antiseptic cream and gauze. “You don’t spend as much time in and out of hospitals for no reason without picking up small things. I went in once because I had a pain in my side that my brain convinced me was my liver failing.” He started rubbing the cream onto your arm so delicately as he continued, “While they went to do tests, I was sharing a hospital room with this guy who had gotten this bad infection on a scrape on his leg. They were training some new nurses, so they started going over appropriate techniques for wrapping cuts and scrapes.”
“And you listened?” 
He looked up at you, pausing his hands to just smile fondly at you and chuckle, “of course I did. As convinced I was that my liver was failing, I also just thought to myself: well, if I survive this, there’s nothing saying the next time I get scraped up won’t be my end. So may as well learn how to prevent it and buy myself some time to say goodbyes.” 
You snorted softly, “That’s pretty dark.” 
“Yeah, I wasn’t doing the best at the time,” he chuckled lightly, “but it was for the better. Because now, I can make sure that doesn’t happen to you.” 
You smiled gently at him, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “Thank you, Wilbur.” 
“Of course, darling. Anything.” He smiled, turning his attention back down to finish wrapping your arm. 
Once he finished, he turned your hand over, kissing the top of the bandages. 
“If you’re trying to be cliché, that’s the wrong side,” you hummed. 
“Oh please, I saw your face when I was wrapping you, I know how tender your arm is right now. The day one of my kisses hurts you will be the day I die.”
You flushed softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently, “Dramatic much?”
“For you, darling? Always.” 
You thought about that night as you pulled your sleeve back down to cover the bandage. No matter how much you knew Wilbur wouldn’t judge you for it, you still felt a shame bubbling in the back of your chest. Instead of pondering it or letting it consume you, you let the exhaustion take over you instead. 
You woke up to the feeling of arms wrapping around you, shifting and sighing. 
“Hi, darling,” Wilbur spoke softly as you turned to face him, settling into his arms, “Bad day?” 
You nodded softly, sighing and looking up at him. He had a gentle smile on his face. Never judgemental, always kind, even if he was finding you in bed after a few days. Even if your room was a mess and your hair was oily and you couldn’t stop crying. He always met you with nothing but kindness. 
He gently brushed some hair out of your face, gently kissing your forehead. He spoke gently, “I saw the first aid kit on the bathroom floor.” He kept the light smile on his face, as if he was asking you about the weather, not your own mental doom. “Do you want to talk about it? Or just lay here for a bit.” 
You leaned forward, resting your head on his chest. When you spoke, your voice was a bit jagged, “Lay here first. Talk after.” 
He nodded, pulling you into him closer. You pressed your head onto him, relaxing slowly. You focused on the sound of his heartbeat, closing your eyes again. He hummed softly. You could spend the next day just lying here before you spoke again, and he would never complain. He’d take as much time as you needed. 
You didn’t know how much time passed before you opened your eyes again. When you did, you watched Wilbur’s face for a moment. Contently, he continued to hum, eyes closed as one hand absentmindedly traced figures into your back. You took a deep breath before speaking softly. 
“I don’t really know what happened,” you spoke. His eyes opened slowly, his gaze full of nothing but love and acceptance. He nodded a bit, waiting for you to go on. 
It took you a while to continue, but he didn’t push, just waited patiently. 
“It felt like a glitch or something. One second I was staring at myself in the mirror and the next I was staring at blood dripping into the sink. I don’t even remember doing it.” 
He nodded, keeping you close, “Did something trigger you?” 
You frowned a bit, “I- I don’t know. I don’t think so, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put it into words. 
“That’s okay. To not know,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “walk me through your day. I’ll try and see something you don’t.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Alright, uh. I woke up pretty late. You’d been gone for a while already, the bed was cold.”
“How were you feeling when you woke up?” He asked softly. 
“Uh,” you thought, “hard to say. I- I guess numb? Didn’t particularly sway one way or the other.”
He nodded, “Alright, continue.”
You nodded, “I went to the kitchen first. Didn’t change out of my pajamas, but I went and I got water. Then I made some breakfast, something light, but I don’t remember what.” You took a deep breath, thinking back and sighing, “I- I remember feeling gross.”
“Gross?”
“Like physically? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered, so I just felt gross. So I went to take a shower. I- I felt… rough. Couldn’t look at myself without feeling gross, no matter how much I’d cleaned myself. At one point, I was just staring at the floor completely… blank. There were no thoughts really going through my head, it just felt like I couldn’t get out of my head.”
“What got you out of it?” He asked gently. 
“My phone went off. I- I never actually checked it, but the sound startled me enough to pull me out of it. I got out, got dressed and everything. And I stopped in front of the mirror to put product in my hair, but when I started looking at myself, it just… cut out from there.” You finished, frowning and focusing your eyes on the seam of his sweater. 
He nodded softly, “Can I see the bandage?”
You shifted your arm, lifting the hoodie sleeve to show him. “I used your method, don’t worry.”
He inspected it carefully, nodding. “Should probably change them, it’s been a while. Are you alright with me doing it, or would you rather do it yourself?”
“You can do it,” you spoke softly. 
He nodded, standing briefly to grab the first aid kit. “How here are you?”
You sighed, thinking. “About 95%. Still not fully here, but I’m mostly all back to myself.”
He nodded, sitting back on the bed next to you. He carefully started undoing your bandages, humming again to himself as he finished getting them off. 
“This will sting,” he warned, waiting for your nod before gently starting to wipe the wounds with an alcohol wipe to disinfect them. You hissed softly, and he gently shushed you. 
“I know, darling, it’s alright. I’m almost done, you’re doing great,” he spoke softly, distracting you until he’d finished cleaning them. 
“There you are, the hard part is over, love,” he spoke softly, grabbing the antiseptic cream and gauze, starting the process of dressing your wounds once more. 
“Scale of one to ten, how bad do you think they are?” He asked softly.
“Physically? They’re not that bad, probably a six. Mentally, I’m not sure. Probably a nine.” 
“A nine?” He asked softly, focused on wrapping the gauze over your wrist but still listening intently. 
“It’s just another reminder that I’m not doing good. That I’m never going to be able to fully heal. I know healing is not linear, but it’s still frustrating to have a physical reminder of it.” 
He nodded softly, “I can understand that. I think you may just be focusing on the wrong thing.”
You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I think when this happens, you focus on the whole thing about breaking the amount of time you’ve been clean. Am I right?”
You nodded, so he continued. 
“I think instead of focusing on the streak being broken, we should focus on how good it is that you went as long as you did. You’re treating an addiction like a competition instead of an addiction. You can’t just stop all at once, especially when you were used to doing this every day. So instead of being upset that you didn’t go as many days as you wanted or that you have to start over, focus on the fact that you went as long as you did without doing it. Because it’s a big thing, and a good thing. It deserves its praise.” 
He finished wrapping your wrist, and he placed a gentle kiss to your palm. 
You sat up, slowly leaning forward and resting your head against his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you whispered softly. 
He wrapped his arms around you gently, whispering back, “of course, darling.” 
You kissed his shoulder lightly, and he rubbed your back gently. 
He waited calmly for you to pull away before pulling you into a gentle kiss. He placed a hand on your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek. 
You kissed him back gently before resting your face into his hand. 
“You said your phone going off helped break you out of it when you were in the shower, yeah?”
You nodded softly, looking up at him. 
He used his other hand to gently brush your hair from your face, “alright. Moving forward, when I’m not home or not with you, I’ll text you at least once at the start of every hour. And unless I know you’re busy, if you don’t respond within… thirty minutes, I’ll call you. Does that sound good?” 
You nodded softly, “That sounds good. Maybe within twenty instead of thirty though.” 
He nodded, “alright. We can experiment with it or change it up occasionally to see what works best. Good game plan?”
“Good game plan,” you nodded softly. 
He smiled, pulling you in for another gentle kiss. 
“Good. Now, choose your comfort film of choice, alright? I’ll order your favourite in too, God knows I won’t be cooking tonight.”
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dragonagitator · 1 month
Text
House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?
Scenario parameters:
All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.
You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.
You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.
Questions:
So, what do you do?
How much would you tell House?
How would you get him to believe you?
Who else would you tell?
How much would you tell them?
Inspiration:
The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.
(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)
My short answer:
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My long answers are below the cut.
So, what do you do?
My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.
My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.
Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."
Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:
A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.
Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.
Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.
Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.
Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"
Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.
I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.
Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.
I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.
Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.
Possible sidequests:
Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.
Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.
Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.
How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?
Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?
My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.
If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.
I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)
Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.
Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?
There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.
My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.
House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.
I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)
I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.
If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.
What would you do?
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skippyv20 · 3 months
Text
Our Prayer List 2023🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️
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I will keep posting this until our 2024 Prayer List grows.   Prayers and good thoughts for Christians in Nigeria.  Praying for them to be kept safe and out of harm’s way.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s cousin who had a bad fall, is in hospital.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend and her family.  They have lost many family members to cancer, and are all being tested.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s mother who is having a mastectomy, and reconstructive surgery on December 15th.  Praying that the surgery goes smoothly.  Praying that she has no issues being off work as she recovers.  Also our friend is very worried about her pup being upset seeing her mother recovering.  Also, we pray for our friend’s mother to feel comfort and no stress as she worries about our friend.
Prayers for our friend’s mother.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is in terrible pain due to sinus problems.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is hoping she will be offered employment that will help her so much financially. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is desperately seeking employment.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s mother who is in the hospital after suffering a stroke affecting her right side.🙏🏻❤️
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s husband who was in hospital and is now recovering.  Pls keep our friend in your prayers as well.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose BIL has been diagnosed with cancer and is going or more tests.  Prayers for her sister as well as she faces this trial with her husband.
Prayers and good thoughts for Matthew to let God guide him through his life.
Prayers and good thoughts for Kylee who has run away from foster care.  Her mother is sick with worry.  We pray for Kylee to return home.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend Paul, who has received bad news regarding his health.  He has lots of love and support, however, prayers will really help him.
Prayers and good thoughts for the family whose mother has passed away from cancer.  Prayers for their father who is now in hospice with cancer, and will pass in the next couple of days.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who needs funding for dentures.  She is feeling very overwhelmed as she struggles financially.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who not only is mourning the loss of her husband Jim, but now faced with the possibility of losing her home they shared.  It seems his daughter is to receive the home, and our friend has been blindsided.
Prayers and good thought for our friend’s daughter and SIL.  They have lost their way. Prayers for our friend for strength during these trials.
Prayers and good thought for our friend whose husband is suffering from mental illness.  Also, for his mother as she struggles to accept his illness.  We pray for our friend who wants to save her marriage.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother Adam.  He has stage 4 cancer and limited time.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is suffering from anxiety.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has arthritis in her ankles and feet.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend Ann.  She had bowel cancer, they missed her 5 year checkup and when she went for another minor operation her scan showed the bowel cancer has now spread to her liver so she is classed now as Stage 4 (terminal) cancer.  Prayers also for her dear grandson and his mother.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter, who has many health issues and is feeling very overwhelmed.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother  (Spain) who had vascular bypass in an effort to save his leg.  He is doing so well, he is on his way home next week.  He is doing so much better.🙏🏻❤️
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend.  She was her father’s caregiver until his passing and now is her mother’s caregiver.  She is feeling very overwhelmed and is having difficulties with her family.  She struggles with her faith at times.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s nephew who is mending a broken heart.  We pray he meets his special “one” and finds love.
Our friend is mourning the loss of her mother, and facing financial problems.  She is very overwhelmed at this time.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend that is struggling with faith.  She feels God isn’t with her.  She is lost and frightened and feeling alone.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband is very, very ill.  Prayers for the whole family.  They are facing many obstacles for healthcare at this time.  Her husband’s pancreas is all but dead tissue but it keeps swelling and then going down, this has caused his liver to start failing.  He is facing many medical issues.
Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend, who is suffering from severe back pain & pain in other hip
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family member who we pray will join AA.  We pray for success.
Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is in financial despair.  She is really struggling as she has no one to turn to in real life.  She is out of work, and there are no jobs to be found.  All of her savings are almost gone and she is afraid she may lose her home.
Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James and his heart brother Matthew.  Also their heart brother Conrad
We pray through Christ our Lord🙏🏻❤️
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lxm-memories · 2 years
Note
Hello! Could I plz request where Luxiem (separately) react to their s/o being a cute neko vtuber who doesn't understand dirty jokes or anything sexual? It's ok if no!
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with a s/o who is innocent. w/ luxiem
✧ luxiem x gn!reader [separately]
✧ content: the two most unseiso people trying to be seiso - they're trying, headcanons
✧ rule of thumb: please read my works as fiction related to the streamers, they are in no way real or connected to what the actual streamer is as a person - i write for the personas of luxiem, not for the person behind them.
✧ a/n: i did debate whether or not to do this since it does border what i don't write, but then again it would be a nice challenge to try and write without making this too sexual. and hello! sorry for a sudden disappearance, i was on a cruise since yesterday and used the time off to just rest!
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✧ Not all too bothered by it, he makes a few borderline suggestive jokes here and there once in a blue moon, and it's relatively jokes you understand too and you both get a kick out of it.
✧ However, is the victim to explaining whatever dirty joke other people do if you happen to do a collab together, better for the lover to teach you something than anyone else after all!
✧ Laughs about it nervously when you ask what it means, and if you don't drop it he'll just smile and go: "I'll tell you later," and he's a man of his words, when he tells you and he sees you blink a couple of times as the information processes before your face slowly goes red he chuckles, patting you on the head.
✧ Is also the victim when you however use a certain innuendo or sexual joke without knowing what it truly means. He will make a surprised sound when you throw it out, stammer a bit and ask if you know what it means. And when you reply no, but you've heard the others say it a lot he just sighs: "Babe, that has a more sexual meaning than you think-" "... Oh."
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✧ Doesn't mind it either, Ike is someone who doesn't actively participate nor like saying sexual innuendos or jokes often too. His form of interacting with sexual media is through his personal interests that he doesn't see the need to share with others unless asked personally after all.
✧ Groans super loudly whenever a dirty joke is passed around in a bit of bigger collabs, his usual reaction. But with you present he does take care of you a bit more, asking if you would like him to explain what it meant.
✧ No he's not embarassed about having to explain, but he will try to explain the context of it without being too explicit. Most of the time it just leads to another liver telling you what it means straight up and Ike just groans before nodding: "Yeah, that's basically what it means."
✧ Does ask after the collab if you weren't too uncomfortable though, he knows you're aware it's all in jest and often times he sees that you laugh even when you don't understand, but there's no harm in asking if you're okay about these topics.
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✧ He is as clueless as you. His repetoire of sexual jokes is literally all the deez nuts or sugma jokes he haunts everyone with. As his lover you're no exception, if anything you get to hear that 10x more than any other liver.
✧ As such, when you're clueless about a joke, he is of no help because chances are he is as confused as you and need someone to explain it to him as well. It leads to some cute moments of obliviousness from the two of you though, because you both will react the same way. Laugh and then ask what that joke actually meant.
✧ However, I do think Luca picks up the fact a joke is sexual quicker than you, so he will try change topics, or try to turn what could become a sexual joke into another one of his iconic: deez nuts joke. Mafia man might not know the sexual side of the world, but he will still shield you!
✧ When you use a sexual joke that he understand, he malfunctions a tiny bit. Just goes: "Oh... Hahaha, p-pog," because what else is he going to say? He's beet red from hearing those words slip from your mouth.
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✧ Literally the first time you two met he greeted with you: "Naaw, will you give me some milkies?" and when he saw your model tilt to the side with a slight frown he just knew that you wouldn't understand whatever dirty joke he threw at you.
✧ And he's tried, he's tried so much after that to be tame. Like yes he still swears to high heaven and hell, but he does make an effort to be somewhat more seiso around you.
✧ And as much as you appreciate it, you don't want to restrain him so when you tell him that you're fine with him being like his usual self because that's why you fell for him in the first place, his barely there filter just flies off.
✧ Sexual innuendos thrown around, some at you and some at others. Questionable reactions whenever you get mad at him whenever you collab: "Mmm, yes please yell at me more," and you just stop and stare at him: ".... Okay everyone so that's it for today's collab," No- wait I'm sorry I'll stop baby, I love you!"
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✧ Ngl, I feel like Vox form of dirty talk would be weaved into his way of speaking. He can recite poetry or a story, and then suddenly hit you with something incredibly erotic or sexual and you're just left processing for a second because - wow that caught you off guard.
✧ When it goes a couple of very awkward seconds with the two of you just staring at each other, you in confusion and Vox waiting for a reaction, it takes you opening and mouth and going: "Was that supposed to mean something?" for Vox to realize that: oh, oh his dear lover is quite the innocent one.
✧ Oddly enough finds you quite adorable when you don't get most sexual jokes besides the very upfront and basic ones. Aww's and swoons whenever you go silent before quietly asking: "What does that mean?" and he's just: "Oh you sweet thing, let me tell you it basically means-" and Reimu is screaming at him to not tell you a single thing.
✧ If you're still curious off stream though and ask Vox about it, he will chuckle and lean closer with a closed eye smile: "Don't worry dear," he will reassure, "When you're ready, you'll know in due time." Take that statement however you would like.
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myreveriie · 8 months
Text
Meet The Parents: 5
summary: a short mini series where your boyfriend has to spend a week with your family. he has to find a way to impress your tough on nails father and your crazy family in order to be able to propose
requested:yes
⚠️: cursing
pairing: mason
authors note: not as long but this is the dead middle of it all, step before all the drama explodes !!! 😰
is a bit flat but it’s the dead middle so trek through soldiers 🫡
-
It was disgusting.
His smoking habit.
Mason picked it up after he had been dropped and never looked back.
His hospital file said enough about his injury and it was clear he wasn’t ever going to play again. Professionally, at least.
So he had to find something to help him “de-stress”.
Drinking was an option but Mason wasn’t a big fan of a dead liver by thirty. But lung cancer at sixty? He was sure he could live with that.
And it’s not like he smoked every day either. He only smoked in moments of high stress and anxiety which he was almost certain that a cigarette in that mix did him more harm then good.
He let out a drag and sighed, adjusting himself on the uncomfortable tiles of the roof. He was impressed at the way he managed to get up here. Thank God for large two story homes with complicated roofs.
Mason’s spot was near Alex’s room and he was only able to distinguish that by the loud music that was coming from inside. The window was cracked open, most likely to get rid of the smell of whatever drugs that kid took.
That kid must’ve smoked here a hundred times and now here Mason was, a pack of cigarettes beside him with a coke can, thinking over the whole disaster of a trip.
He had about 10 missed calls from you and a few other from unknown numbers, most likely your mother but he ignored them all.
Mason needed space. Space from you, your family and everything that in the stupid state he was stuck in for the rest of the week, if he’d even last that long.
“Hey man.”
Mason whipped his head to the window where Alex’s head poked out of. The teen had a smile on his face that was almost sickening. Mason groaned and turned away, looking straight ahead.
The teen cleared his throat. “Uh, my sister is looking for you and she seems worried so you might wanna get in here before my dad kicks your ass.”
The Englishman stayed silent and the boy continued. “Also, mom’s about to start dinner.”
Mason shrugged. “I’ll be down soon.”
Alex smiled. “Cool, pass me a cigarette?”
“Aren’t you only seventeen?”
“If I can get my hands on marijuana, I can take anything.”
Nothing could make this trip worse so Mason took one out of the pack and outstretched his arm, passing one to the kid. Alex’s arm stretched out and he took the cigarette.
“Thanks. I’ll keep this in between us. Dinner in 5.” With that, the kid went inside and the window quietly slid down.
Mason ended up not going down for dinner, refusing to be near your family.
He eventually got down from the roof and took a long walk down the driveway and back before knocking on the front door.
The door swung open and Lisa stood on the other side and sighed in relief. “Oh Mason, we thought you left!”
Mason shook his head with a smile.
Lisa opened the door wider, allowing him to get inside. Mason stepped into the warmth and sighed, thinking that maybe it wasn’t so smart to sit on a roof for hours. He made his way through the foyer and living room, stopping when he saw you curled up on the couch with a mug. It had to be tea you were drinking because it was almost the only thing you ever drank.
He held your gaze for a moment before continuing his way to your room until your dad stood in his way.
“I take it you were smoking? You reek.”
Mason shrugged. “Yeah. It was much needed.” Pushing past the older man, he went up the stairs and to your room, setting everything on your counter. He stripped himself of his clothes and tossed them in the hamper before grabbing his towel and heading into your bathroom, locking the door shut behind him.
His shower was long because he had to scrub away his “smoke smell” just to shut your dad up. After finishing and drying himself off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and unlocked the door, stepping out only to find you there.
You had to shower in your parent’s bathroom because Mason took too long and because your shower ended way earlier than Mason’s, you finished your night routine, but only the short version because your bathroom was still occupied.
Dressed in your sleep clothes, you were deep under the blankets, sleep beginning to hit you. The sound of the door made you sit up but you laid back down when it was just Mason.
He stepped into your room and got himself dressed before flicking off your lights and climbing into your bed.
“Bed’s a bit small.” he quietly joked.
You smiled to yourself. “Had it since high school.”
He chuckled and laid down on his back like always.
The vibe was awkward and silent until you turned over, facing him.
“Mason, I’m sorry.”
He only shrugged.
Sighing, you sat up. “I’m serious. I’m genuinely sorry for bringing you into this and not having your back. There’s no excuse for me and if you want to leave, you can. I won’t judge or hold it against you.” You paused, taking a moment to let the words sink in. “I just want you to be okay.”
Mason huffed. “I’m not gonna leave. I can stick it out for five more days. For you.”
Smiling, you leaned down and pressed a kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
He grinned against your lips. “Right.. gonna have my back?”
Laying yourself down, you snuggled close to him. “Always.”
-
Surprisingly, day three, four, and five went well.
The occasional jabs from your father, Rick, and Jason were continually thrown his way but you came up to Mason’s defense every time.
Your mother and Diane were beginning to like him and Olivia finally accepted his apology.
And much to Mason’s pleasure, Alex joined him on smoke breaks.
They both knew if anyone found them on the roof together, they’d both be dead meat but Mason kind of enjoyed the teen’s company.
Alex was just a kid who desperately seeked his parents approval in everything and he sometimes needed to get away from it. Mason understood that.
But it was on day six when his safe cocoon began to crack.
Mason found a new smoke spot on the roof, needing to get away from Alex for a quick minute.
This time, the spot was facing the backyard where everything for the wedding was set up.
Mason blew a puff and thought to himself.
What would his wedding with you look like? He prayed that it wouldn’t be here.
Your parents backyard? Tacky.
He imagined a nice church, something his mother would’ve sided with. She was a fan of traditional weddings and have been gushing about it to him since he even brought up the idea of marrying you.
A vineyard would be nice. He wasn’t really opposed to an outdoor wedding but you loved them. You thought it was romantic and he only thought of pollen and allergy season.
He chuckled to himself. So close. He was so close to finishing the week and asking your dad for your hand. At this point, should he even ask your dad? In this day and age, who even asked for permission?
A voice cut through his thoughts and he peeked over the roof to find your dad speaking on the phone in a foreign language.
Weird.
Was it Greek? Mandarin? Catalan?
His private education (and a little common sense) kicked in and Mason recognized it as Greek.
Why would your dad be speaking Greek?
Mason listened carefully and he picked up a few words from the vacations his parents use to drag him to.
Ιδιωτικός.
Private.
Νησί.
Island.
Μυστικό.
Secret?
Thank God for forced family vacations and those stupid “Learn a new language, as easy as 1-2-3!” dvds.
But it barely made sense. Why was your dad speaking Greek and what was the deal about this secret, private, island stuff?
Mason smashed the end of the cigarette on the roof, putting it out effectively.
There was only one answer to this.
Your dad wasn’t retired, he was still doing his quests or missions or whatever it was. Mason had half a brain to tell you but wait- he didn’t care.
He was on a good path to leaving this country trouble free, why would he want to be a snitch?
Shrugging to himself, Mason began to find a way off the roof until he saw something go past him.
Turning carefully, he saw Snowbell staring at him.
Gross.
With a disgusted look on his face, Mason shook his head. How the hell did that thing get up there?
He wanted to not care but he remembered something your dad said on his first night.
“Snowbell is not an outdoor cat, she can’t last long outside. If you ever see her outside, please take her inside.”
Mason suppressed a groan as he weighed his options. Move on with his life and get down safely or risk his life for the stupid cat?
After a quick moment, he sucked it up and inched close to the cat.
Snowbell stayed put and continued to stare at Mason.
“Here kitty kitty,” Mason cooed, reaching his hand out.
The cat got up and moved away and Mason cursed under his breath as he pocketed the cigarette pack and lighter.
This was going to be difficult.
“Snowbell!” he hissed, his patience low and fear high. “Get over here!”
The cat meowed loudly and Mason lunged for it but Snowbell evaded him once more.
Fuck.
At this point, screw the damn cat. Mason would’ve rather took the fall of the soon to be missing cat rather than a legit fall trying to save it.
But would he really?
No.
He moved carefully across the uneven roof, scared shitless. Once he was close enough, he reached his hand and latched onto the cats tail.
Frightened, Snowbell cried out and ran, going straight to the rain gutter.
His first thought was to call out for your dad who was most likely still down there but he probably wouldn’t be happy if he found Mason on his roof.
Mason could only watch as the cat traipsed out of his sight and groaned.
Of course it was when he was reaching the final stretch of his stay here, something had to happen. There was a no way he’d get to the cat so he had to think of a lie, something fast to save his ass.
It took him a minute but he thought of something and sighed. These last days were going to be long.
When finally he got himself down from the roof, he went inside and silently ate some crackers your mother had out.
“Mase, are you alright?” you asked walking into the kitchen. “You’ve been so quiet babe, what’s up?”
He nodded in between bites, refusing to look at up.
You sided beside him and crossed your arms. “Honey, you literally have a talking problem, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, uh, I was just thinking about some stuff and…” he trailed off before smiling at you.
Laughing, you shook your head. “I know you’re lying but whatever.”
Before he could say anything else, your parents walked in the kitchen, almost arguing with worried looks on their faces, your sister in tow.
“Well I didn’t let Snowbell out Ben, she’s my cat too!”
Your dad scoffed. “Please, you had her last!”
“Mom, dad?” you interrupted. “What’s going on?”
“Snowbell is gone!” Ben yelled, throwing his hands up. “Just gone!”
“What?” you casted a glance towards your boyfriend before looking back to your father. “What do you mean, ‘just gone’? She’s a house cat, she can’t go anywhere!”
Your dad nodded. “That’s what I said!”
He looked near tears and Mason had to look away before he laughed.
There was no way he was about to cry over a cat.
“Mason, have you seen her?” Olivia asked, her lip quivering. “Daddy trained her to walk the rings down the aisle and we can’t do rehearsals without her.”
No fucking way.
Mason quickly realized how serious this was and stifled his laugh. “No. No, I haven’t seen her.”
You scoffed. “Please, he hates cats. I doubt he’d even look at Snow twice.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm, I forgot you hated cats Mount.”
“Yeah well it’s not like I just parade around saying I dislike ’em.” he shrugged. “I simply don’t care about them.”
“That’s why you let her out, didn’t you?”
All eyes in the room turned to Mason and his eyes widened.
“I- uh, what?”
Ben stepped closer to the Englishman. “You did it, right? You let out Y/n’s cat.”
It fell silent as everyone waited for Mason to explain and it was only his luck that Jason’s family had impeccable timing.
“What’s going on Benny?” Rick asked.
Your dad turned to him and crossed his arms. “Our dear Snowbell went missing and I have a hunch that a certain Brit let her out.”
Rick smiled. He never liked Mason so this was perfect. “Well Mount. Did you let out the cat?”
Mason opened his mouth and closed it again.
“You guys he would never!” you protested.
Olivia rested her hands in her hips. “I don’t know sissy, he seems at a loss for words.”
You scoffed and turned to him, wanting this to be put to rest. “Babe, did you let her out?”
A few moments passed and you gave him an expectant look.
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Sorry.”
Your mouth dropped open as gasps filled the room.
“Mason!”
-
yay part 5 🎊
btw i hope the roof concept was not confusing, i tried to make it a simple as i could help 😭
tell me why it’s so hard to write the legit middle of a story even thought you alr had it all planned out
previous part l next part
🏷️:
@ky-ky-ky-ky @firepuma @topguncultleader @allywthsr @lilians17 @dessxoxsworld @joyfuldeadskeleton
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Note
Interested to know what Dottore would fuck instead of his darling
tw - dead dove do not eat, disturbing themes, medical malpractice, dehumanization, and unethical treatment of organs.
dottore would fuck your heart.
and your lungs, and your liver, and softened ridges of your large intestine. you aren't harmed in the process, obviously. all his materials are gathered from clones, brought into the world as little more than cold bodies (because, as much as he'd love to see your doppelgangers writhing under his scalpel, the screaming tends to attract attention he'd rather not have on his little passion projects) and swiftly diced up for parts. his collection is broad, but he's particularly fond of the way your disembodied eyes feel as he rolls them over his tongue, how soft the tissues of your heart feel as he pumps the deflated organ against his shaft. occasionally, he'll indulge his scientific curiosity, see how many rounds it takes to leave your preserved stomach overflowing with his cum, compare the texture of your kidney against his cock to the pad of your tongue, but he usually tries to be more sentimental, to think of this as a gift, albeit one you didn't know you were giving him.
he knows he'll never be able to feel your heart beating against your teeth, to breathe in the scent of fresh, warm blood as your digestive system pulsates around him. this is his way of keeping you safe, of making sure he doesn't grow so pent-up and so frustrated that he ends up strapping you to a vivisection table and attempting to leave a gift of his own in the gaps of your rib cage.
he only wishes he could know what it would be like to be so close to a genuine piece of you, one day.
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elvisabutler · 10 months
Note
hiii! absolutely loooove your writing!!
was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about either Elvis or Austin and he helps reader when she’s on her period and super hormonal. like maybe she’s cranky and horny??
if not, totally fine!! my periods been vicious this month and would love to see how you think one of them would react to it!! thanksss!
crimson
summary: you are having a bit of a rough go around this time with your period and your boyfriend- well he just wants to help. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x plus sized female reader word count: 1432 warning: oral ( f receiving ). implied potential p in v sex ( future ). period sex. blood. descriptions of period cramps. author’s note: so hi anon. i have no idea how you feel about me making this a plus sized reader and having this be a period sex smut but at the very least i hope you enjoy. but also thank you for the compliment about my writing! i went for austin because well- because @butlersxbirdy helped me choose and because truly i have been lacking in my austin content lately. if the mood strikes i might write something come- well probably when my period comes next with them like in the damn bubble bath or curled up in bed. also you don't have to read it this way but in my head for some reason- i kind of saw this as being in the same universe as pop goes the bump. don't ask me why but ya know. also moodboard is not indicative of the color of the reader's skin. i just have wanted to use the beanie and austin pics since i saw them.
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Your best friends today have been your bed, a heating pad, copious amounts of chocolate and a sweatshirt that Austin wore despite being far too big on him and making him look like a very tall Ariana Grande. All in all, you've had worse periods with less assistance than you do now. You've had worse periods alone with nothing to comfort you. Sure, you're technically alone right this second, but according to Austin there was something about the way you answered the phone, all vicious snapping and vitriol spewed from your lips that clued him in to the possibility that maybe- just maybe you might be on your period. Maybe you could use some company in your time of need and pain.
The thing is you and Austin pride yourself on being honest with each other, telling each other when something bothers you or when something doesn't work clothes wise or actions wise. It's how you can tolerate the gossip of him with costars and the gossip of people thinking there's no way he'd be with you. You know there's every way he would be with you because he tells you why he's with you. It's easy to realize and understand. The downside to this is that sometimes he forgets that there's a time for tact and little white lies. Case in point the exact words that leave his mouth when he opens the bedroom door to find you in a blanket burrito and with Bridgerton playing on your television.
"You look like shit." He murmurs, leaning against the door as his eyes trail over your body.
You wait a moment before you respond, wondering if he honestly just said that before you finally glare at him. You like to think if it could the look would murder him. "Great boyfriend you are, asshole. I feel like shit so if it feels like shit, smells like shit and looks like shit, it might just be shit."
Austin for his part winces at your words, realizing that what he said was uncalled for and probably did more harm than good even though he had meant it to be playful. It takes him a second to stop leaning against the door and slowly walk over to your shared bed, carefully as if he thought you were a caged animal ready to strike and kill him. "Or it might just be a woman experiencing a very rough week," he states calmly, as the bed dips with his weight next to you. "Taken your pain meds?"
"More than my liver would have liked me to." You answer, the words coming out as a bit of a whine as another cramp seizes and twists at your insides. "It hasn't helped that much. They're normally-"
Your eyes shut from the pain as it cuts off your words and Austin finds himself pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back in some form of comfort. "They're not normally this bad, I know baby."
"I woke up at 4AM like this. I'm tired, I hurt, I want to eat my weight in every food known to man and I'm-" You stop yourself and feel your blood rush to your ears and head in embarrassment as you shift a little next to him, trying to find some relief. He doesn't need to hear the last part, that's too much to ask of him or anyone.
Austin watches you, watches how you are on a roll explaining what's wrong until you get to the last bit of what's bothering you. He notices how you stop and start to shift against the bed a little in a way he only knows you to when you're- well- when you're feeling horny. Ever the actor though, he manages to school his face into something that doesn't give away that he might have a clue as to what's going on. His hand moves from your back to your hips, rubbing in a motion that's meant to be comforting but that he also know has a tendency to drive you wild. "You're what? Does it have something to do with how you're moving against the bed?"
A breath catches in your throat as you feel the warmth of the embarrassment you feel flood your body. Of course Austin would catch on, he knows you. He knows how you are and knows every single one of your tells. "Austin- Don't, it's nothing, if you're not going to be helpful or comforting just-"
Your words are stopped by a shaky exhale as you feel Austin's lips on your neck, trailing down to your chest. "I want to be helpful and comforting. I want you to feel better, babe," he whispers against your skin before pulling away slightly as his hand moves to cup your breast, noting how you hiss in equal parts pleasure and pain. "Too much?"
"Just the nipple. Not the whole thing." You answer, grinding against the bed a little. "They hurt too much to be touched."
A hum leaves Austin's lips as he keeps up his work, his thumb flicking at your nipple, sending shocks down to your core. Between your legs is throbbing not only because of the pain your period has wrought but because of how that simple touch has your clit aching for attention. Attention you're praying that Austin will provide it as he moves to be on the floor by the bed and tries to pull you to the very edge. It's a position he's been in once before, it's a position you've seen him in multiple times since you first started dating and yet in this moment you want to keep your legs shut, trying to keep your desires to yourself before you hear a chuckle. "Babe. Let me, please. Consider it my last ditch attempt to make you feel better."
It's as if those words are the magic ones to hear as you open up your legs, shivering at Austin's touch on your thighs. At his subtle squeezing of the plump fat of them and at how he takes your underwear and your shorts off with an ease that makes you love him that much more. Your hands drift to his hair, messing with it, allowing your fingers to grasp at his locks and yank just slightly earning a groan from him. Your thighs tighten around his head reflexively as he inches closer and closer to your cunt and yet he still manages to make his way there. His tongue laps at your clit, earning a sharp cry from you at the new sensation. You swear you feel his lips curl into a smirk as he continues a soft and slow onslaught, licking gently while stoking the fire of arousal within you. It makes your stomach clench in a way that is a little painful but feels like it's relaxing at the same time. It's a clench that promises relief at the end instead of an unending deluge of pain. Your chest heaves as Austin takes a hand and moves to play with your nipples once again and you feel something- you feel what you think is an orgasm start to build within you as you try to use your grip to pull him away. Only to have him shake his head and take your clit between his lips and just suck at it.
That action, that simple action that normally you detest has your thighs tightening so much around his head that you're liable to hurt him as you come, your fingers yanking at his hair and a low moan leaving your body as the coil of tension inside you and the sheer clench and twist of your insides relaxes at least for now. You try to catch your breath and relax your legs as Austin pulls away from between your legs and continues to play with your nipple almost absentmindedly.
His mouth is red, almost like messed up lipstick and you can't help but feel your cunt clench a little in want for more. The two of you stare at each other before he smiles and raises his eyebrows. "Better?"
Your eyes take in how his pupils are flushed and how his cock is pressing against his pants and you can't help but lick your lips and grind against your bedsheets once more. "I think I might need one more- dose, Austin. Just to be safe."
A smirk crosses his lips as he moves back to his former position, ready to give you what you ask for. "Just one more. Then we'll see if you need something stronger."
taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine copy and pasted from the last austin fic, sup y'all, feel free to tell me if you don't want to be tagged, etc etc.
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lucycola · 11 months
Text
TOS!Spock x Fem!Reader; The Visitor Part 2
ON HIATUS FOR THE TIME BEING
Modern!AU where Spock is an alien who lands in the reader’s backyard and seeks shelter while repairing his ship. Eventual romance and smut.
In The Original Series it is said Spock is a vegetarian, not vegan, so I’m basing this part off of that information. 
WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and bodily harm. Awkwardness. Spock is tall and the Reader is not. Foot kink if you squint. Not proof read at all. PART ONE 
Part 2:  And the zipping white light beams disregarding bombs and satellites. That was the turning point- that was one lonely night
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Sparse sun rays of a dreary morning ghosted through the curtains of your bedroom. The night was enveloped in sweaty tossing and turning. You remembered anxious nights before the first day of school where it took you hours to fall asleep and when you finally did you dreamt of still trying to fall asleep. You could never tell if you actually slept that way.
This night was no different.
It was easier to help your visitor into the house, as he wasn’t unconscious this time. He had leaned onto your shoulder and excused himself to the bathroom to change.
You hadn’t been sure what to do at that point, but directed him exhaustedly to a spare room. You had sealed most of the rooms to reserve heat to save money. You felt guilty for how cold it had been and thankfully the old heater in the corner worked.
You shut yourself up with your dog and lay with the fire poker for good measure. You were still equally spooked as you were tranced. Was it a dream? The green blood felt real, but it was so outlandish it couldn’t possibly be.
At some point Spaghetti was scratching the door so hard you let her out of the room. If she wanted her liver eaten, fine so be it.
When you were sure it was finally morning you roused from bed feeling your whole body ache.
You slowly pushed open the door wincing at the creak. His room was only a little down the hall. You ridiculously crawled on all fours until you came next to his doorframe. You swore you had left it closed but now it was just wide enough for your dog to push her way through.
You peeked in and saw he was lying under the two quilts you had placed atop him. Spaghetti was nestled into his side and you inwardly screeched. His head faced away from you as you slowly crept in. 
His chest rose and fell calmly. The pit of anxiety in your stomach unfurled into a sigh of relief. Spaghetti’s tail began to thump and you slowly crept back out. 
You dawdled to the den slowly and fumbled the fire poker back into its stand. 
You felt a chill slither down your back and absentmindedly you fiddled around for some kindling to make another fire. Despite not having cleaned out the ashes from the night before it caught easily. You would have to chop more before the weekend was over and fortunately for you the logs outside were protected with a tarp. Otherwise they would be soaking wet. 
You didn’t know why such a thing preoccupied your mind. There was a damn alien in your house and firewood was at the top of your list? 
You fell back into the couch. How long would he be here? Would his own kind come looking for him? Would your kind look for him? You desperately did not want the FBI knocking at your door. 
What the hell were you going to feed him? Could he eat Earth food? He did say he was half human-albeit he also said he was a vegetarian. What were you supposed to feed a vegetarian.
“Woof.”
“Dog,” you huffed in response, accustomed to your pet’s voice. 
“Human.”
You looked up to see your guest had risen, still in your grandfather’s clothes. He was a bit pale, but seemed alright for the most part. Spaghetti was at his side, tail still wagging. Damn dog. 
You stood immediately, “Did I wake you?”
“Yes, but it is of no consequence,” he replied, “I extend my gratitude for your assistance last night.”
You nodded, mouth feeling dry. You ran your fingers through your hair, finding a large knot. Your neck flushed. You must have looked awful. 
He himself endured the awkward silence. Spaghetti was the first to break it. 
“Breakfast,” you chirped, “I need to feed her. Are you hungry?”
You went into the kitchen, trying to smooth down your hair and retrieved her food bag from the pantry. If you didn’t keep it locked up she’d devour all of it in one day and probably die of an intestinal blockage. You almost learned that the hard way shortly after inheriting her and the house. 
Spaghetti trudged to you once her bowl was filled and began chomping away. 
Spock still stood at the corner of the rug, the left side of his frame bathed in little fire light. You avoided his gaze by ducking into the fridge.
“You said-eh-Vulcans don’t eat meat, right? Can Vulcans eat eggs and toast?” you asked, still feeling the heat at your neck and ears. 
“I suppose that will be acceptable.” 
His voice was much closer, causing you to jump and hit your head inside the refrigerator. You turned and found that indeed he was much closer than before. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps.
You had forgotten how tall he was. 
“Right!” you blurted, “I’ll get started on that. Do you drink coffee?”
He shook his head, “Although my mother has an affinity for it, Vulcans prefer tea.”
You nodded again, “I’ll see what I can do.” You began to rummage through the cupboard. 
“Could I be of assistance?” he asked, having taken a step back. Did he sense it-how you felt?
“No-no, please. You’re still hurt. Just sit down.”
He didn’t move to argue with you and did as instructed. He laid his hands atop the kitchen table, brushing off some crumbs from the placemat. 
Why were you so flustered by him? You didn’t feel that way helping him change or into bed. If anything you were wholly consumed by anxiety. 
What if you hadn’t stitched him properly? you remembered thinking, What if he bled to death in your house? 
He had developed a shiver about him that night so you layered him heavy with quilts, even pulling one off your bed for good measure. You had whispered fiercely into the old heater in the corner, threatening it with the dumpster if it didn’t turn on. Thankfully the old crystals rattled to life and filled the room with its orange glow. 
Now he was at your kitchen table politely and patiently waiting to be fed. Spaghetti was done with her own breakfast and settled at his feet. 
You scowled inwardly. That dog had never been that nice to you. You wondered if it was because of the scent of his clothes-reminding her of her old master. 
You managed to find some ancient tea your grandmother had in the cabinet and set the kettle to boil. You hoped to every and any holy entity it didn’t taste like shit. You fetched eggs from the fridge and procured a pan. 
“How do you like your eggs?” you asked. 
“I was not aware there were multiple ways to like them.”
“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
“Am I to understand your kind consumes them?” he quipped.
You stifled a sigh, settling on whipping the eggs in a bowl, “No-we don’t eat cats. Well, some people might. I’ve never met one. It’s just an expression really.”
Neither had you seriously met someone seriously considering eating a feline either. You had only heard racists jokes, which was not something you wanted to unpack right now. 
While you were scrambling the eggs Spaghetti had managed to flip over her food bowl and began to whine. She sat sternly by it, despite the fact that it had long been empty and she knew how to flip it back. 
She whined loudly, wanting more kibble. 
“No,” you replied, “That’s all you get for now. Don’t indulge her-she’s just an asshole.”
Despite your order Spock was already crouching with the ghost of a wince on his features. He flipped the bowl back over. 
You were seriously considering eating dog. 
“Do your people have expressions?” you asked after depositing toast and eggs on a plate for the both of you. 
He settled back down at the table, his reply deterred by the sudden whistle of the kettle. You rushed to it, setting it off the eye. You poured the water in his cup, hoping the tea wasn’t awful. It almost looked like it dated nearly twenty years. When you had first moved in and were cleaning out the freezer you found frozen vegetable and meats dating even farther back. 
“Yes, but they are not as colorful as Terran ones I have found. I know a few from my mother, but none of the likes of which you shared today.”
You blushed again, “I’m sorry-it’s my raising I guess.” You set his plate and tea before him gingerly, avoid eye contact. You felt silly. 
You had a million questions. How far was Vulcan from Earth-what was it like? What was their language like? Did they all wear robes as he did or was that exclusively for travel? Were their more planets beyond Earth like Vulcan? Did all Vulcans have pointy ears?
“Do you have shame?” he asked. 
You were snapped out of your inner wondering. 
“What?” you sat across from him. 
“Your tone indicates your ‘raising’, as you put it, as an excuse rather than an explanation. It would seem you are shameful.”
You sighed for a moment and decided to be truthful, “Sometimes. Not for my grandparents or this house. I mean we weren’t the richest or the most sophisticated.”
He looked at his plate for a moment and picked up the fork, twisting it in his right hand. 
“I understand,” was all he offered. 
You normally ate a quick pace. Spaghetti had trained you that way. You had to be fast so she wouldn’t purposely drool all over your feet or lap. 
The visitor ate slowly, without an hint of whether he liked his breakfast or not. You flushed again at the sight of your empty plate and his still half full. 
He probably thought you were a pig. 
“Do you?” you blurted. 
“Pardon?” He glanced up from his ministrations. 
“Feel ashamed of your upbringing?” 
“Vulcans do not feel shame,” he stated plainly, resuming his meal. Spaghetti trudged over to him and began to slobber at his socks. He gently prodded her head to the side, not paying her much attention other than so.
“Why?” you asked incredulously. 
“Shame is a human emotion.”
“What-do Vulcans have their own set or something?” you snarked, allowing yourself to giggle. 
“Vulcans adhere to a practice in which we do not partake in such expression. Such is the philosophy of Surak.”
You stared at him. Like you were supposed to know what that meant.
“Who’s Surak?”
His right brow twitched ever so slightly. 
“A Vulcan philosopher.” He drank his tea, once again with no hint to whether it tasted good or bad. “One who taught that emotions makes one illogical and hindered the improvement and growth of a successful and peaceful society.”
You tapped your foot, beginning to feel the red swell on aggravation behind your lips.
“You have no shame, yet you understand it? How is that possible?”
“I was taught the history of my civilization. We were once like the humans-living rashly at the expense of survival-at the expense of our evolution to a greater society.” 
“So, what, you’re saying Vulcans are better than humans for that?”
He placed the utensil back down cleanly on the plate and moved his elbows to prop on the table. He steepled his long fingers and locked his eyes with yours.
“Once again you keep inferring from declarations I have not given.”
You crossed your arms, “Indirectly. You were once like humans and now that you’re not you’re better for it?”
“Once again-”
The shrill bell of the kitchen phone interrupted the tension, slicing through it with each ring.
You went to it quickly, leaving your breakfast alone. Please, God, don’t let it be the FBI. 
“Hello?” 
“Good mornin’!”
“Doctor Beltik!” you strained through clenched teeth. You instantly recognized the cheery voice, slowly deteriorating in sharpness from its age. 
The town veterinarian was as old nearly as the town itself-as old as your grandparents would be if they were still here. He was a good friend to them and Spaghetti’s mortal enemy. 
“Little lamb, how are ya?”
“I’m well.” 
You glanced back at Spock and mouthed an apology. He only nodded ever so slightly and continued his breakfast while coolly keeping your dog at bay with the heel of his foot. 
A fucking pro already. You chuckled at that. 
“And the ole girl?” 
You stifled a huff. You did not have time for old chit chat, as much as you loved the old vet. 
“She’s the same-Doctor Beltik I really-” you started but were cut off.
“I won’t keep ya long, lamb, I wanted to ask if your power went out last night. It was quite a storm-largest lightening strike we’ve seen since your ma was a wee thing! Darned thing lasted a long time, nearly blinded me! Not that I’m not already halfway there anyway.”
You paled a bit feeling the eggs churn in your belly. What if someone saw the crash or the ship? How foolish could you be to think anyone could really believe that that was lightening. The vet was a fossil and maybe a little silly, but anyone in their right mind-”
“Y/N?” the vet asked, “Ya still there?”
“Yes!” you sputtered, “It woke me up, but I didn’t have too much trouble going back to sleep. Bad weather is like white noise, y’know.”
“Did your power go out? All of downtown went black.”
Shit. 
“Wow, really? Uh-it did for a short time. Listen, doc-I’ve got biscuits in the oven-”
“That’s alright. Enjoy your Sunday, lamb!”
“Thankyou, Doctor Beltik.”
You hung up the phone and grumbled. You smoothed out your robe and turned around.
The table was empty. No spaceman. Spaghetti was sniffing at the back door after leaving a trail of drool from where Spock had sat to the doorframe. 
Great, just great. 
---
You were already half way out the door, tugging your rainboots when you spotted him at the tree line. 
“Spock!” you called, “What’re you doing?”
It had already began to sprinkle. You darted towards the tree line, the ache in your calves reminding you of the night before-both dragging and half carrying him. 
You nearly ran into him as he stopped so suddenly you had no time to slow down. He steadied you with a strong hand, fingers brushing the bare skin of your collar bone. Droplets of morning drizzled flecked his dark hair and you found yourself crooning your neck back to meet his gaze. 
“I must repair the ship,” he stated plainly, unmoved by your close proximity to him. 
You couldn’t speak. The pads of his fingers were warm at the base of your throat. You felt a chill run up the entirety of your body. 
“Breathe,” he commanded. 
You took in the damp morning air and felt your face go hot immediately. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath.
He let you go and you instinctively took a step back. Your brain was fuzzy. It kept shouting the same things over and over, as if arguing with itself. 
Friend. Predator. Stranger. Liver.  
You hated how tall he was. 
He turned curtly and began into the woods. You bumbled after him. 
“I hope no one saw the crash,” you informed him, shivering. “The vet over the phone saw the light from your ship and it knocked out the town’s power, not just my house last night!” 
“There was suitable cloud cover and I was able to move quietly under the detection of Earth’s authorities,” he replied, “Until the storm worsened. I was temporarily blinded and almost struck a metal structure- I believe it’s purpose is to provide the facilities to operate mobile communications.”
“You mean a cell tower?”
You stumbled over a root, sliding in the mud. You grabbed onto his sleeve without thinking. He locked his grip under your elbow and helped you along. You felt pathetic, but steadier. 
“Affirmative. Fortunately, I avoided it,” he explained, “But I was not so quick to avoid the trees up there.” 
He motioned with his hand and you saw the tops of the evergreens were indeed quite taken out. 
The ship loomed into view, sleek and colorless in design. It seemed smaller in the daytime. 
He stopped short of where the ramp used to be and pressed his fingers to the cool metal. The maw of the ship opened quietly and out streamed the light again. 
“The right side of the landing gear is damaged along with a small piece of the hull. Some of the infrastructure of the cargo bay has been warped,” he continued, still leading you carefully up the slick ramp. It’s almost like he knew how you had to crawl that night in order to keep from falling.
He was right. In the dark you had never seen it. Beams fashioned of the same white metal that crafted the cargo hold were indeed bent and some broken. One had been completely severed and was like a sharp pike. It sported a coat of dried green. 
You glanced at his right flank and back up at him. He did not acknowledge your expression of horror.
“What is unknown to me is how the sensors did not detect the cell tower.”
You realized he was still holding on to your elbow. 
“Maybe something was already broken?” you offered in a soft voice. 
He looked down at you and removed his hold. 
“I will investigate as I was not able to last evening,” he replied already starting up the ladder. “Then I must repair the ship and return to Vulcan.”
You followed after him carefully, not wanting to fall. “And how are you gonna do that? There’s not exactly many alien spaceship workshops around here.”
You poked your head through. The cockpit seemed to have the Tardis effect. Unlike the outside it seemed much bigger on the inside. Lines of soft light lined the elongated wind screen and the runway between seats. Spock was kneeling at the console. 
“Aboard each private Vulcan vessel are tools and minor parts for replacement. Although it will take me some time I should be able to repair it sufficiently to return me home.”
You ran your fingers gently along the railing along the bottom of the glass outlooking the forest. 
You finally registered what he had said and whipped around. 
“You can’t do that in the middle of the woods out here! Someone already noticed the ship’s light last night. Who knows that someone won’t come poking around here. You-” you sighed and rubbed your temples, “-you need somewhere to work.”
He stood, once again towering over you at too close distance. “I suppose you already have a space in mind?”
“Actually,” you tapped your finger against your lips, “I might. If it will fit. God willing.”
He eyes did not meet yours, but below. You didn’t realize it at first but his gaze was following your finger, right at your lips. You didn’t know if he knew it, but he had began to chew on his bottom lip. 
You felt heat blooming at your neck. 
“But-!” you interrupted your line of thinking, “I don’t think I can tow this thing with my truck. Can it fly anymore?”
He nodded, “That is something I can tend to now. Although it is still cloudy it might be preferrable if we perform this operation at night.”
“This thing already stands out like a sore thumb from the sky-I mean it’s straight chrome almost.”
Almost. Not nearly as silver. More delicate and duller. 
“Then I shall try now,” he said and rapidly moved back to the console, flipping switches and the like.
“Wait-wait-” you scrambled back to the ladder, “I don’t want to be on this thing when it moves.” 
You were already half way down when he murmured, 
“Humans. So peculiar.”
--
How it fit into your garage was nothing short of a miracle. You never kept the truck under there anyway. Most of your grandfather’s tools had been stuffed to the side. There’s used to be more vehicles,  but in your grandparents will you had been instructed to sell the car and boat to help you with your finances. You could sell the house if you wanted, but you didn’t. 
Not yet anyway. 
There was a large concrete pad in front of the double garage doors and you stood there in the raining morning, motioning with your hands for him to land there. From there on you guided him to slowly back in into place. It funnily reminded you of helping friends’ parents park at graduation. 
Instead of activating the ramp which if extended would destroy the stairs up into the rest of the house, he appeared from a sort of port hole near the back of the vessel. 
“This will do quite well, Y/N, thankyou,” he said.
You squeezed your arm and nodded. You looked up at the sound of Spaghetti scratching the basement door. 
“I-I need a shower,” you said, “Are you all set?”
“Affirmative.” 
He had already began to examine landing gear, having a sort of tool belt of sorts that resembled the ships lack of color and sleek design about his waist.
“I’ll be up stairs if you need anything. Just holler.”
“I will, pi’veh.”
You slipped out of your boots and left them at the base of the staircase. He glanced back at you as the creaking of your bare footsteps filled the room.
He turned back to his work, noting subconsciously that your nails were painted.
Peculiar indeed.
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areyoudoingthis · 5 months
Text
Stede draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again. - Picks up right after Stede closes the bed curtains. Tender, horny sex ensues.
He draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again.
Stede has laid awake on this same bed on countless sleepless nights, dreaming of this exact moment. Vague shapeless dreams at first, just him and Ed together in some undefined capacity. Far more real fantasies lately, since he cut off the ties that bound him to land and gentry and shed the man whose role he was suffocating having to perform.
He feels electrified, everything that happened tonight pressing against the inside of his skull with the force of a ram. The desperation of watching Ed get tortured, the satisfaction of being able to protect his crew and the man he loves, taking the irrevocable step to push Low off the plank after hearing him claim that Ed only views him as a pet and call Ed low born scum. He feels his blood boil again at the memory.
He doesn't regret doing it, is the thing. All his life the one thing he's craved is a place to belong, somewhere he's welcome, and now that he's found it, now that he has a family he can actually protect, people who depend on him, he will be fierce in ensuring the destruction of anyone that harms them.
But it's still making him feel dizzy, still brings the taste of vile to his mouth and the paralyzing memory to his mind of being called lily livered while his face was covered in blood, and feeling the word soft slice sharp like a knife against his skin.
He needs to kiss Ed, needs to press their lips back together until he can't breathe, until his head is spinning for entirely more pleasant reasons.
So he follows the instinct, plants a knee on the bed next to Ed's thigh and buries a hand in his hair, tilts his head up to kiss him and holds him tight with the other one around the back of his neck. Ed kisses back unrestrained, like maybe he wants this just as much as Stede does - and what a wonderful surprise that has been tonight. He wants to bottle up the lightening coursing through his veins and keep it around forever, to pour on his lips when he's feeling insecure about his place in the world and in this man's heart.
He breaks away from Ed's lips to trail wet, slow kisses along his neck, his shoulder, slides down the collar of his shirt out of the way until he can't reach any more skin and he has to separate from him to remove it altogether. Ed's arms go easily where Stede guides them, drape languidly around his neck to pull him close once they're free. Stede feels his heart climb into his throat, the way he did earlier when Ed nodded and drew him close into his body.
He pushes them down onto the bed, and Ed leans back without loosening his arms from around his neck, keeps kissing him the entire time. The feeling of Ed's tongue in his mouth is like a live ember burning inside him; he never wants to stop drinking him in, pulling his breath into his own lungs. He moans when he presses down more heavily onto Ed and feels the hardness in his pants firm against his thigh. This is the moment he's been alive for his whole life, why he kept waking up every morning of the miserable decades he spent stuck in a life he never wanted and not knowing Ed.
He rolls his hips against him out of instinct, and the friction of Ed's leather clad body against his cock has sparks licking like flames over his skin. He feels invincible right now, like he could take on a whole army of Ned Lows and defeat them single-handedly.
Ed is rocking against him, too, seeking the same release Stede craves. His open need makes Stede feel bold, like he could do anything, so he drags his lips down Ed's chest to his stomach, sucks open mouthed kisses against silken skin, traces the dark ink that decorates Ed's body with his tongue. He accidentally brushes against the burn mark on Ed's chest and Ed whimpers.
"Shit, sorry," he hurries to apologize.
"Not a bad feeling, mate," Ed says, a little breathless. Stede's eyes open wide, but he remembers Ed asking to be stabbed a million weeks ago, when he was still a different man that couldn't understand what was being asked of him and thought they were just playing pirates, and the way he moaned with Stede's sword stuck in his side. He brushes his lips tenderly around the wound, licks softly over it, and Ed writhes underneath him.
Stede prides himself on a rich imagination, but in his wildest fantasies he could never have pictured Ed like this, limbs loose and relaxed, lips red and kiss bitten, breath ragged, looking at him from underneath his eyelashes like there is nowhere else he'd rather be in the world.
Satisfied that he's given him what he wanted, he resumes his exploration of Ed's skin, slides his tongue down his sternum, flicks it over a nipple and is rewarded with a gasp and Ed's hand tangling in his hair, pushing him down with the barest amount of pressure. He gets the message and does it again, and then he sucks it into his mouth, and Ed's hand tightens further around his fistful of Stede's hair. The sting in his scalp feels so fucking good that he drags the nipple between his teeth to get Ed to do it again.
"Stede," Ed moans, not like he's asking for anything, more like he just wants to hold Stede's name on his lips for a while. Stede feels like he might do something embarrassing like cry at the sound, so he distracts himself by giving the same treatment to Ed's other nipple, and Ed keeps squirming against the bed, rolling his hips up fiercely to meet Stede's.
He feels like this is more than he ever wanted and nowhere near enough, like he's feasting and starving at once. He goes back to mapping Ed's tattoos with his lips, follows the lovely trail of silvery black hair down his stomach to the waistline of his pants, keeps going as far as he can.
"Can I take these off?" he asks, when he can't push the unyielding leather any further.
"Yeah," Ed concedes, like a gift.
His fingers tremble slightly as he undoes the buttons. It takes him longer than it should to get them open, but it's not like they have anywhere else to be. The crew are still partying above deck, he can hear singing and what he assumes is more dancing now that the roar of the fireworks has ceased. He feels sorry he didn't get to dance with Ed before they were interrupted, but he supposes this could count as dancing, too. A dance just for the two of them, with steps they decide and to whatever rhythm they choose.
Finally, he manages to get Ed's buttons open, and he hesitates for a second before he reminds himself that Ed offered, he nodded and kissed Stede back, pulled him into his body like he meant to keep him.
He hooks his hands on the waistband and pulls, and then Ed's cock is free before him, long and dark and already full, all for him.
"Can I taste you?" he chases another impulse. He's never done this before, knows the act exists from literature and living on a pirate ship with a crew that enjoys having sex in every random corner they can find. But the need to have Ed in his mouth is overwhelming, short circuits his brain and keeps him suspended in midair until Ed replies.
"You can do whatever you want, Stede."
Oh, how he loves him. The whole firmament has lodged itself inside Stede's chest, burning bright and incandescent.
He removes Ed's trousers all the way, discards them with a heavy thud of leather and metal on the floor, and kneels between his legs on the bed. He keeps eye contact with Ed the whole time as he sinks down and kisses his soft thighs, first one, then the other, sucks red and purple blooms into his skin. Ed groans and thrashes his head against the pillow.
His legs are also dotted with tattoos, and Stede makes plans to spend an entire day memorizing every drawing on Ed's skin sometime, in bright sunlight so he can admire them properly. He runs a hand from Ed's ankle to his thigh, loving the drag of coarse hair against the pads of his fingers. Ed watches him a little transfixed, like maybe he's worried that Stede will disappear if he looks away. Stede needs to reassure him that he's not going anywhere, that this is where he wants to be for the rest of his life.
He presses his nose into Ed's pubic hair, inhales him deeply and feels his head swim with the reality of what they're doing, of the man in the bed beneath him, the cock pressing against his cheek. Ed is so very solid here next to him - they're having sex for the first time, his first time with a man, with someone he truly desires and who desires him back. His chest expands and floods with starlight.
He rubs his cheek against the soft skin of Ed's thigh, savoring the moment, fists the fingers of his right hand around Ed's shaft and strokes it delicately, still a little awed that he gets to do this. He guides Ed's cock towards his mouth and finally, finally, wraps his lips around it. Ed bucks against the mattress and Stede chokes a little, more out of surprise than anything else.
"Sorry, sorry," Ed apologizes. "Didn't expect it'd feel like that, mate, sorry."
Now what on earth does he mean by that.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The look Ed gives him can only be described as fond, bottomlessly so.
"No, 's just intense, 's all."
"Oh."
"Oh," Ed agrees.
Well, then. He can certainly understand the sentiment. His own dick is straining uncomfortably against his pants, which he still hasn't taken off. Leather isn't the most comfortable fabric, he's beginning to realize. He's incredibly turned on, too, is the point, and every one of his senses feels heightened to an almost overwhelming degree.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Yeah, yeah, you can."
"Okay." He feels like giggling, like his lungs are full of helium instead of oxygen.
He leans back over Ed's cock and sucks it between his lips, takes the head into his mouth and lets it sit on his tongue for a second, getting used to the stretch and the taste and the weight of it.
He decides that having a cock in his mouth is profoundly satisfying, after all. In all his late night fantasies he never dreamed it could be like this, the rush of bringing Ed pleasure, of using the soft parts of himself to make the man he loves feel good. He's been hard since he pushed Ed into the wall and poured all his wild need into his mouth, and he feels himself grow impossibly harder at this realization. Tonight is a night of epiphanies, it seems.
Having determined that he likes this rather a lot, actually, he starts bobbing his head up and down on Ed's cock, testing how deep he can take him, listening to his groans and gasps of pleasure for clues about what works best, what makes him whimper and hitch his hips in tiny movements, trying to keep himself from bucking into Stede's mouth again.
He hopes his eagerness is making up for his lack of experience as he drools messily all over Ed's shaft and down his own chin. The way Ed moans loudly when he slides his tongue from root to tip and licks at the head makes the butterflies in his chest hope that it is. He builds a steady rhythm, breathes through his nose and takes him in as deep as he can, endlessly hungry for him. He loses himself in the act for minutes, hours, maybe, until Ed's voice brings him back to himself.
"Stede, fuck," Ed pants. "If you were planning on this going anywhere else tonight, ya're gonna have to stop that. Not that young anymore, mate. Two in a row might be too much to ask for."
His brain scrambles to a stop, and he sits unmoving with Ed's cock in his mouth for a moment. He hasn't been thinking more than two seconds ahead all night, running on instinct and adrenaline and hunger. But if he's honest with himself, he knows where he's wanted to take this since he grabbed Ed by the lapels of his jacket and Ed kissed back desperately.
He pulls off Ed's cock and stares at him, chest heaving, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings inside it.
"Can I fuck you?"
Hasn't this entire night been about asking for what he wants, heeding the hunger that's been gnawing at his insides his whole life, after all? Might as well go for broke.
"Already told ya, you can do anything you want." Stede's owned land and rich fabrics and books and shiny trinkets in the thousands, but nothing has ever compared to Ed offering himself to him like this, trusting and hopeful.
He takes a minute to breathe deeply and calm his mind before he stands up from the bed and removes his trousers. They've undressed in front of each other before, but that was chaste and they'd both turned around while the other got dressed. Stede was still half dead and feverish from a wound to the stomach that day.
This time it's intentional, and a prelude to something more, something he's dreamed about for months, for his entire life, perhaps. Ed has his head turned on the pillow and is watching him hungrily, cheeks rosy, skin shining with sweat, legs still spread out for Stede. The reality is infinitely better than any fantasy he's ever had.
He returns to the bed, kneels between Ed's thighs once more. This is the only home he needs now; he's glad he left every tie he ever had behind so he can nest himself here and stay for good. He doesn't know where to begin, loses his train of thought for a few seconds. Ed gazes at him patently, grants him time to adjust.
"Do you have any oil?" he gifts him a lifeline, as if he hasn't given Stede enough tonight already.
"I- yes." Why is this the thing that's making him blush - he had Ed's dick in his mouth a few minutes ago. He shakes himself and leans over Ed to reach around between the mattress and the window, fishes out the flask that he's kept there for a couple of days. The reason why it's there makes his brain burn even brighter. He has wanted this, and now it's happening.
Ed takes the bottle from him, sets it down on the sheets and holds his fingers gently in his hands to pull the rings off of them one by one, unhurriedly. They clatter against the windowsill when he sets them down, and the sound gets burned in Stede's brain with the weight of an anchor holding him safely in place. Once he's done divesting him of his rings, Ed picks the oil back up and holds Stede's hand in his, pulls off the stopper and pours some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers, where it sits like an offering at an altar.
Stede swallows the lump in his throat, brushes the hair off Ed's face, caresses his temple, his cheekbone, his jaw, runs his thumb over his bottom lip, tenderness welling up inside him and flooding through his skin. Ed takes advantage of his stillness to suck Stede's finger into his mouth, and Stede almost dies then and there. Ed's tongue laves around his finger, and Stede moans brokenly and kisses him, almost forgets that his hand is covered in oil and makes a mess of Ed's skin.
He gazes with naked adoration at Ed as he rubs the oil between his index and middle fingers, coating them thoroughly in it, then braces himself with one arm next to Ed's head, infinitely sorry to have to pull his finger out of his mouth.
He reaches between Ed's legs with his other hand, strokes softly down his balls and his perineum until he reaches his entrance. The next step sends his heart into disarray. He rubs a finger in slow circles against Ed's hole until Ed is whimpering and shaking again, and then he adds a little more pressure to his movements and he's sinking inside him, heat enveloping his finger and his mind. It's tight, and impossibly warm, and doing this feels like nothing's ever felt in Stede's entire life. No rush has ever compared to this, not piracy nor faking his death to chase his freedom.
He moves his finger tentatively in and out, and the way Ed moans his name knocks the breath out of his lungs and has pride crashing inside him like waves in the surf. He does it again, builds a slow, unhurried rhythm. Ed's pants and praises fill the air around them, in this otherwise quiet and secluded spot where only the two of them exist. He adds a second finger when he feels the first one start to glide easily inside him, and Ed's body welcomes it eagerly.
He's enchanted by the sight of Ed in this moment. He looks so lovely and relaxed, Stede's never seen anything more beautiful - no painting or sunset or starry sky could compare. His skin is flushed, his chest rises up and down like butterfly's wings, his skin shines, his eyes are scrunched in pleasure and his hair is an untamed mess around him from the way he keeps tossing his head against the pillow. He wants to press the image of Ed's shameless hunger between the pages of a book and preserve it forever.
He mutters nonsensical praises at him, driving his fingers into him relentlessly, loving the pressure and the feverish warmth of his hole around his fingers. He's high on the way Ed reacts as he strokes inside him, the sounds that pour ceaselessly from his lips, the way his body can't stop shaking uncontrollably, like he wants to climb out of his own skin from how good it feels. He could to this for the rest of his life and never tire of it. His cock his leaking against his stomach, balls tight with need, but none of it matters more than touching Ed like this.
"Stede," Ed whines.
"Yes?"
"Try curling your fingers." The words spark inside Stede's mind like fireworks.
He crooks his fingers experimentally inside Ed as he asked, and Ed's hips shoot of the bed as his hands fist on the sheets, pleas for more pouring from his lips and washing over Stede like summer sunlight. He will gladly spend the rest of his life giving him anything he wants. He has to kiss him, take those sounds into his mouth and drink them in. He leans down, licks his tongue against Ed's lips, and Ed's mouth opens up for him like the rest of his body is opening around Stede's fingers.
He pours all his love into Ed's mouth, breathes hotly against him as their tongues slide wetly together.
"More, please, need you," the words drop from Ed's lips like fireflies in the dark.
Everything, anything. A third finger joins the first two as they slide in and out of Ed's hole, press against the spot that makes him scream. Ed's legs come up to wrap around his waist, holding him tight against his body like he's been doing all night. Stede feels tethered to him; he's never had a place where he belonged, but he belongs with Ed like this, joined from head to toe, wrapped around each other like two people who are meant to be together.
He digs his knuckles deep inside him, longing to get even closer. Ed writhes desperately between the mattress and his body, all fire and hunger, slides his arms around Stede's shoulders and holds on. Flames skid down Stede's skin, and he thrusts his fingers faster, overcome by a need that obliterates any tentativeness he felt. Time stretches infinite between them, eons pass as he gets Ed's body ready for him.
"Stede, fuck me, please. I'm ready," Ed begs, ravenous.
Heat blooms in Stede's chest, sparks down his spine and shoots straight to his cock at the way Ed's voice breaks asking for him.
He separates from Ed only long enough to pour more oil on his fingers, mindful of this body he loves and everything they went through earlier. The pleasure when he fists a hand around his cock to get it slick makes him shiver. He wants to be inside Ed so urgently, needs to feel him under him and around him and in every crevice of his being.
He positions himself and takes a deep steadying breath. Their eyes are locked on each other's again, unable to look away. He grips his cock and guides it towards Ed's hole, presses in slowly. The moment he breeches him Stede feels like he dies and is born again a thousand times, the man he was and the man he is and the man he will become all infinitely in love with Ed, forever.
He pushes in inch by inch, needing to take it slow and feeling like Ed does, too, from the way he's looking at him with hooded eyes, neck taught and fingers clenching on the soft fabric of the sheets beneath them.
He bends to lick a stripe up his neck, tempted by the way it's calling to him. Ed takes advantage of the position to cling to him, legs going around his hips again and skin sticking together with sweat.
When he's finally fully seated inside Ed's body, he pauses and gazes at him, expectant. The pressure is exquisite, like being wrapped in warm flames that can't hurt him. Ed swallows visibly, then nods his head again, inviting Stede to move inside him like he invited him into his mouth at the beginning of the night.
Stede feels split wide open, affection and passion flowing through him and pouring out his of every pore into Ed's body. The "I love yous" gather in his throat and threaten to choke him, but he holds them back because Ed said he wasn't ready to hear them and Stede wouldn't betray his trust like that. He tries to say it with his body instead, peppers tender kisses all over his skin, presses his forehead against his heart and hopes he understands that he's making love to him with everything but his words.
Ed's heels dig against the meat of his ass, his cock slides damp against his stomach as their bodies rock together like a ship in the open ocean. There's a thunderstorm breaking inside Stede, loud and devastating, and he doesn't know what will be left standing in its wake. Moving inside Ed is like lightning and fire and starlight, like every force of nature has gathered here between their flesh. He rocks his hips in slow, deep thrusts, trying to memorize the exact way Ed's body clenches around his cock.
Ed mutters breathless encouragements as he thrusts up to meet him, the push and pull of their bodies ferocious like the sea at high tide. Stede's enveloped in heat, Ed's beautiful body and lovely skin and gorgeous hair and the sweetest brown eyes he's ever seen all that exists for him. He wants to stay like this forever, buried inside him and plastered to him, pleasure coursing back and forth between them like life giving breath.
He brushes the hair off Ed's damp forehead and goes back in for his mouth. Ed bites his lower lip and Stede gasps, breath ragged and head spinning; he feels raw and torn apart. He reaches down and clasps Ed's fingers between his, rests their joined hands on the pillow next to Ed's head, anchoring them together to survive the storm. There are tears welling in his eyes again, and Ed kisses them tenderly, buries his fingers in Stede's hair and claims his lips in a deep kiss.
Pleasures builds deep inside him as his cock drags hotly inside ed, threatening to pull him under. He picks up the rhythm, drives into him again and again as they hold onto each other and gasp heatedly into one another's mouths. He adjusts the angle of his hips on his next thrust and Ed's fingernails rake down his back, leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake.
"Stede," he moans brokenly, and electricity shoots along Stede's spine like he's been shocked. He does it again, frenzied to hear Ed's voice utter his name drenched in need like that over and over.
Ed cries out, grips Stede's arm tight enough to bruise, and Stede will wear the lovely shades of purple on his skin proudly, a mark of their passion to match the ones he left on Ed's thighs earlier.
"That's it, hold onto me. Let me give you what you need." He needs to take care of him so very desperately.
His hand leaves Ed's to wrap around his cock, dragging his fingers through the slick collected on his stomach to ease the slide, and Ed squirms and moans out loud, unraveled beneath him. Stede's starting to lose himself to the blaze sparking dangerously between them, swims in molten lava as Ed cries out his name and begs him to go faster.
He snaps his hips harder, matching his intensity bit by bit. The desire to give Ed pleasure supersedes everything else in Stede's mind. He needs to hear him scream in ecstasy and witness what he looks like in the throes of passion, with all his walls down and moaning Stede's name, begging him for more, harder, faster.
He moves at a feverish pace inside him, pulls out and slams back into him at the angle that makes Ed scream, as he fists Ed's cock tightly in his hand, trying all he things he likes on himself and hoping Ed enjoys them too.
It's blinding, all this feeling, like staring directly into the sun for too long. He feels a chasm open up inside him that may never be fully filled, an aching hunger for Ed that can never be satiated.
"I'm so close stede - fuuck - please, please!" Ed begs incoherently. And Stede cries out from how intense the pleasure of being connected with him like this is, moans praises into Ed's skin and chases both their releases as best as he can.
"It's okay, Ed, it's okay, I've got you. Wanna make you feel so good."
"You - ah, right there! - you already are."
Stede feels his orgasm building and building for an impossibly long time, high on the way they're joined and the hot flesh underneath him and having sex for the first time in his life in a way that is actually enjoyable.
Ed is groaning and whimpering brokenly, urging Stede on with his ankles around his ass and rocking back and forth between his dick in his hole and the tight fist on his cock. He's beyond beautiful lost in his pleasure, and Stede wants this to be the event that marks every one of his days. This is what he ran off to sea for, freedom and Ed and a love they can build together one day at a time.
Ed pulls him down towards his chest again, and Stede buries his face in his neck and bites down softly on tender skin, needing a release for the euphoria he's feeling.
Ed's hips shoot off the bed when his teeth close around his skin and he's coming in endless stripes between them, painting his and Stede's stomachs with his spend.
"Ed, oh my god, fuck I'm gonna-"
"Come on, Stede, come for me."
And it's the words and how ragged and stripped raw they sound that push him over the edge, into a bottomless ocean of Ed and pleasure and heat. He loses track of the next few minutes, as he empties himself inside Ed and collapses in a useless heap of leaden limbs on top of him.
Ed runs his hands softly through his hair, down his shoulders, his arms, offering grounding touches that Stede is grateful for while he struggles to remember where up and down are, wrung out and trying to get to shore.
He breathes heavily into Ed's chest until his lungs stop feeling like they're full of coals, kisses his heart tenderly and tries to pour all his love into him so he will know how important tonight has been for him.
"Was that good?" he asks shyly when he can finally look up at him again.
Ed chuckles.
"Mate, I just came my brains out, what do ya think? I think you finally finished fixing my lower back."
Stede laughs, drunk on love and Ed, and beams at him, pleased that he accomplished what he set out to do and made Ed feel good after a decidedly unpleasant evening.
"You're gonna need to move at some point, ya little blond barnacle. We're gonna get stuck together if we don't clean up," Ed says after a while of lying pressed together. That doesn't sound like the worst thing to him.
Stede feels like he should be offended at being compared to a barnacle, but he can't find it in himself to care. He would cling to Ed for the rest of his days if he was allowed, so it's not like it's a lie.
He reluctantly rolls over to lie next to him on the bed instead of on top of him, and winces a little at the stickiness. Sex was never this messy for him before, but he could grow to love this part, too, the evidence of how much they both enjoyed what happened between them.
He's floating high above his body, thinks he might easily get addicted to sex with Ed if he's allowed, if it always feels like this, like warmth and joy and shared passion.
Ed pushes off the bed and gets up, and Stede's brain panics a little. He wants to hold him all night, wake up tangled together on soft sheets in the morning.
Ed must notice something in his face because he leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips and says "Just going to fetch something to clean up with, 'kay? Be right back."
Stede relaxes back into the comfortable bed, watches Ed walk away without a stitch of clothing on with undisguised lust, and then decides to try and get the sheets back into some kind of order before he returns so they can actually sleep here tonight.
He's lying languidly back on tidier sheets, body liquid and mind at ease, when Ed returns with a soft wet cloth and kneels down next to him to wipe off the come from his stomach, then tenderly swipes it over his spent cock. Stede shivers at the overstimulation. The gentle care Ed is showing him is almost as intoxicating as the sex was.
Once he's satisfied with his work, Ed throws the rag on the floor next to their discarded clothes and climbs back into bed with him. Stede opens his arms for him, invites him to be held like Ed's been inviting him into his body all night.
Ed goes easily, tucks his head under Stede's chin and throws a leg over his to pull him closer. Stede wraps his arms around him happily, settles him comfortably with his weight resting half on top of him. The world has never been a better place than it is tonight.
He combs his fingers slowly through Ed's hair, the urge to touch him no less consuming after what they shared. Ed hums contented little noises against his skin, goes boneless in his arms.
His eyelids start to droop and he wants to say all the things Ed isn't ready to hear. I love you. I'm yours. Stay with me forever.
They will have time. The world is theirs for the taking, they can go at whatever pace Ed needs.
"Sweet dreams, Ed," is what he settles for instead.
"Night, Stede," Ed whispers back.
He falls asleep listening to Ed's soft breaths in the quiet room.
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teapartyspilled · 1 year
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So you love him because he's a hero? Let me tell you something about heroes.
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Based on a booktok I saw that had the lines -
So you love him because he's a hero? Let me tell you something about heroes. A hero would sacrifice you for the greater good. I have no such compunction. I would burn this world for you.
So where would Genshin men fit into this? Again, this is my personal opinion, feel free to disagree.
A hero would sacrifice you for the greater good
Diluc
This dude is a certified Hero ™. Totally would sacrifice you for the greater good.
2. Zhongli
He probably already did this multiple times in his lifetime. What's another time of sacrificing for Liyue, eh?
3. Xiao
Eternal suffering ™ . He continues to suffer for the greater good till date. You think you have a chance? Think again.
4. Thoma
This malewife would sacrifce you if it meant to save the Kamisato siblings. You think he would hesitate to sacrifice you for the greater good?
5. Cyno
Justice ™ . Anything for Justice ™ .
5. Tighnari
Dude would probably sacrifice you even to save wilderness. He would totally regret it but would still sacrifice you, just saying.
6. Kazuha
Another Hero ™  moment.
7. Venti
Would probably sacrifice you for some alcohol. Just kidding, but would totally put the need of the population over his... or yours...
8. Heizou
He may be a smooth talking suspicious individual but his heart is always in the right place. Would be super conflicted but in the end, would let you go to save the world.
I have no such compunction. I would burn this world for you.
Childe
Fight me energy #1. He would obliterate anything that even thinks of harming you. But just like his lil bro, you're blissfully unaware of it.
2. Scaramouche/Wanderer
This is a chaos child. He wouldn't even think twice. Please.
3. Kaeya
The dude has already lost everything - his father, his foster father, his bond with his foster brother, probably his liver with the way he drinks. He doesn't have the strength to lose you too. So would totally burn the world for you.
4. Dainsleif
What world? His world was destroyed 500 years ago. He has no attachments to Teyvat except for you. He dislikes the Archons anyway. So he will burn the world for you.
5. Albedo
He doesn't even trust himself to stop destroying Mondstadt. If anything were to happen to you, the one thing that makes him feel closer to a human, he would crush anything or anyone that willed to take you away from him.
6. Itto
This man child would probably burn himself in the process, but it's the thought that counts right?
7. Baizhu
I don't know a lot about his personality right now but he gives me sus energy. Maybe because he reminds me of Orochimaru. But I think this man, who is fighting tooth and nail to keep himself alive would probably do the same to keep you safe as well.
A little bit of both
Ayato
This man and his little schemes always come in clutch in the last minute. Would probably make you believe that it is needed for the greater good but will pull through at the last minute to keep you alive.
2. Al Haitham
Now this guy is a bit of a mystery. He could probably swing either way on what suits his interests or what is most beneficial for his peace towards the end. After all, he wants a peaceful life without any worries.
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