#When i straight up sent him what prescription i needed so i can start the process of getting 'official dysphoria'

[letterlitter]

Blanket Warm

Lando Norris x F1 academy driver reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: fluff

•in which you become unwell after a racing accident and Lando is determined to take care of you.

"Two weeks off the track. Start physiotherapy on week two, then come back to see me. Hopefully you'll be back to racing in no time." The team's doctor smiled and handed you your prescription, along with a paper that said you had to rest and weren't in a condition to race.

Now you were at home all day, trying to keep yourself busy but there wasn't much to be done. Only if you'd been more careful during testing for the F1 academy. The crash wasn't that hard and it didn't ruin the car's livery much, but it sent it spinning several times to finally hit the wall, causing you to strain a neck muscle quite hard. You were okay during the check up, but how you tumbled around whith every step after getting out of bed the next morning scared you.

Lando, who had ran after you to keep you from falling, insisted to drive you to the doctor when the dizziness didn't get better after a couple of hours like you had said to convince him it's nothing. So there you were, having nowhere to go and nothing to do. Thankfully the F1 season hadn't started yet, so you and Lando had the house all to yourself after the briefing session he had to attend. Except, this was no regular holiday.

---****---

"No no, you need to sit down." Lando told you as he pulled you to the couch when he saw you stumbling while trying to make dinner. "I'll take care of things."

"Lando you can't cook" you smiled sarcastically, "I can do it."

Lando gave you a sassy side eye, "what did you say?"

"Well can you? Cook?"

He stood in a defeated silence and finally replied "okay I can't. But I can carry myself. I've got the internet and everything."

You sighed in disagreement.

"Come on babe. I am not letting you do anything. I may not be able to cook but no offence, you're not able to stand straight."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to hide your laughter.

"If you want to get better and go back soon, you have to listen to the doctor."

He waited and stared at you until you agreed. You couldn't resist those ocean blue puppy eyes anyway. And he was correct.

"Alright." You sighed, "but I will sit in the kitchen and tell you what to do."

"Oh no you won't." Lando stood up and pulled your arm to himself, threw it over his shoulder and lifted your body off the couch like firemen do; Making you squeak in surprise, "you're not doing anything but rest sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."

He finally put you on the bed, tucked you in, and you could tell moving you up the stairs was a little bit of a workout for his tiny, F1 driver arms. He didn't complain and you didn't either. It made your heart warm to see how he cared about your well being and the lengths he would go to to make sure you were alright. You were willing to do the same for him any day.

"Get some more sleep. I'll come and wake you up when everything's ready okay?"

Lando responded to your under breath "whatever you say" with a kiss on the forehead and left you to the silence of the room.

When you woke up two hours later, the smell of fried beef and cheese had came up all the way to your room. Surprisingly, it didn't smell as if something was burned or nasty.

Lando walked in all of a sudden with a big tray, pushing the door open with his back,

"Oh shit you're awake." He went right back out, making you laugh.

He came back empty handed and stood right next to your bed.

"Madam..." he helped you sit up eventhough you were capable of doing so yourself. Your head wasn't that dizzy but he still wanted to make sure everything is well.

Lando, who had wrapped a napkin around his waist stood infront of you like a waiter, "now that you are awake my dear lady, dinner will be served." He went back out and grabbed the tray he had left on the floor.

"I couldn't do a longer intro I was afraid it would get cold." And he put the tray on the bed beside you. He had made lasagna.

"Oh wow. Very well executed sir." You wanted to go along with the theme he started.

"Than you madam. Hopefully you'll like it. First..." he handed you the wet towel he had brought. He knew you hated eating before washing your hands and face after you wake up.

"Let's see." You lifted your fork and started slicing the piece.

"Hmmm, this is great Lando."

He smiled with satisfaction. You had never complimented him on his cooking before.

"It's a bit salty to be fair but how the hell did you do this?"

"My mom, a really long video call, many many dirty dishes and one broken one."

You smiled. It was the best you could ask for. Your boyfriend who cares for you, your house you could rest in, and so much comfort. Your life had been passing on such a fast track lately that you couldn't step back to appreciate the little things that were yours. This injury, how frustrating it was, had made you realize how grateful you are for the people who love you.

"What about you?" You said with you mouth half full.

"Oh I have tasted everything so many damn times I am completely full. No no really, that's all yours. My mom kept asking me to describe the taste for her like it's a competition."

You laughed "Well. I think you have won."

"I don't think you would say that if you saw what's going on downstairs."

---****---

The next 10 days went by really quickly. You were trying to get better and Lando was doing his best to keep your dizzy head entertained.

He would help you get dressed, tie your shoes, brush your hair and sit down on the couch to watch a movie with you. He would make you hot chocolate and give you your medication; and when the physiotherapy was due, he would message your neck gently like the doctor had taught him. He kept making you food and finally agreed to get some help from you when he almost burned down the kitchen.

And all he replied when you thanked him was "anything for my girl."

You finally reached full recovery a little sooner than two weeks. The doctor told you "everything seems in place. You must've had quite a good rest."

"I had a good care taker." You replied, looking at your boyfriend with a loving smile.

He really, really was one.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 academy

[drabblesandimagines]

Prescription

Clive Rosfield x fem reader Fluffy fluff, bit of injury

“Nearly there,” Clive murmurs as you take another painful step towards the infirmary. You think the words are more for his benefit that this ordeal is nearly over. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, he’d offered to carry you multiple times, but you’d refused his offer and, being Clive, he was hardly going to go against a lady’s wishes.

You know he’s probably confused as to why you’d refuse his assistance. You’ve bested men twice your size in battle, so it can’t be that you’re worried you’ll appear weak, that if Otto, Gav or the other Cursebreakers catch sight of you being carried back to the Hideaway in his arms they’ll mollycoddle you for weeks. It’s perhaps more embarrassing than that – it’s the thought of being held in his muscular arms, against his chest that already sets your heart pounding, a flush to your cheeks… And if that’s the sort of effect the thought had on your body, you dread to think what actually being in his arms will result in.

Besides, your injuries weren’t that bad… once Clive had compressed them with bandages from his pouch and you hadn’t even been that far from the docks when it had occurred. You could make it to the boat and then up to the infirmary at the Hideaway without any need to be cradled in your crush’s arms.

Clive had compromised on you leaning against him, your arm around his waist, your fingers gripped into the laces down the side, and his arm hooked around your upper back, taking the majority of the weight off your injured leg and side. You’re just hoping if he can feel your heart pounding, he’ll think it’s the adrenaline from the fight and injury wearing off.

They were injuries you’d taken defending him, to his horror. As the two of you had walked back down the slope towards the small dock where Obolus was waiting in his skiff, a lone Black Shield had lunged out of the undergrowth, his sword straight at Clive’s neck. As you drew your blade from your side, you’d elbowed Clive back, him stumbling down the slope as yours and the assailant’s blade clashed but the momentum he had built sent you spinning, and he’d got a good slice in your hip. Stopping your momentum, you’d managed to get him in his shoulder, pushing him down onto his knees before he got another swipe at your calf and then your blade swiped across his throat. It was all over in a matter of seconds, Clive’s sword only just drawn as he stumbled back up the hill.

Torgal whines, sensing your discomfort. He’d been waiting at the dock as the boat had pulled in, Obolus commenting that he hoped your blood hadn’t stained the timber.

“Oh, Torgal, don’t you start.” You pout down at the wolf.

“What happened?” Jill’s panicked voice comes from the level above, hurrying down the flight of stairs to meet you at the infirmary door.

“It’s not-“

“It is not nothing.” Clive growls, though you know it’s in frustration at himself. “She sustained it defending me.” Jill gives you an exasperated look before pushing the door open, holding it wide for the two of you enter. Tarja is leant over a desk, swiveling her head round at the noise of company.

Her eyes narrow as she sees the blood-stained bandages around your leg and side, before she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Honestly, Clive, you made her walk?”

“I did no such thing. She refused to let me carry her.”

“Well, I’m overruling that refusal.” Tarja comments, pointing to a bed. Clive doesn’t hesitate then – Tarja always got her way - swiftly hooking his arm under your knees, though mindful not to touch your wound, and sweeps you up, resulting in your half-gasped protest. He strides over to the bed in what feels like two steps – your heart hammering - and places you down gently.

“See, wouldn’t that have been much easier?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You say lightly, as he hovers over you perhaps a moment too long. He forces a smile – one you’ve seen when he’s pretending to be care-free.

“Right, Clive – out.” Tarja orders, gathering a tray of medical supplies to bring over to the bed.

“Right. Erm… Take care. Send word if you need anything, or…”

“Out.” Tarja reiterates.

He raises his hand in acknowledgement and strides out – his shoulders sagging as he does.

Tarja makes quick work of removing the soiled bandages, mumbling under her breath – curses at your stubbornness, you suspect, but you leave her to her work and stay still like a good patient.

“Jill, I think these trousers and shirt are done for. Can you see if Hortense has anything spare?”

“Of course.” Jill smiles. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You hear the door shut and continue to stare up at the ceiling, breathing in and out as Tarja moves on to cleaning your wounds with a rather stinging concoction.

“Good news, you’ll live.” She leans back from your bedside and turns to the tray, retrieving some items.

“That sounds like there’s bad news…”

“Well…” Tarja holds aloft the needle and thread. “The bad news is you’ll need stitches.”

“Ah.”

“Deep breath and we’ll get started.”

It shouldn’t, you know it shouldn’t, but the needle piercing into your flesh hurts more than the sword that caused the injury did and you tense.

“Deep breath. First one’s the worst.”

Except it wasn’t, not for you. After a few more reminders to breathe, the healer lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re too tense,” Tarja chides, leaning back. “You need to relax, otherwise the stitches will be too taut and it’ll split the second you take a step.”

“Sorry, Tarja, it’s not exactly a relaxing activity.”

“Do you want me to call for Clive to hold your hand?” The door opens. “Oh, maybe he could unbutton his shirt as a distraction…”

“Who, Clive?” Jill’s voice teases.

“Stop it, it’s not like that.”

“Mm-hm.” The two women are synchronized and you can feel your face burning. Besides, if anything, Clive with an unbuttoned shirt would make you more tense…

“Hortense says she thinks she can salvage your clothes, but she had a spare dress she reckons will fit you until then.” Jill appears above you, holding up a plain blue dress. It’ll do, certainly. You doubt you’ll be out on any assignments the rest of the week.

“Thank you.”

Tarja places the needle down on the tray and gets to her feet, heading over to the apothecary drawers and rummaging through one. She returns with a small vial.

“Right, drink.”

“What is it?”

“It’ll make you relax, that’s all. Non-drowsy.”

You pop the cork off – the thing smells foul – but you know you’re in trouble with Tarja enough now so you do as you’re told, downing it in one.

A minute or so later, you feel your muscles unconsciously relax, releasing a lot of tension in places you weren’t aware you had it. Tarja murmurs her approval and sets to work stitching up your wounds in no time, before applying a salve and new bandages and helping you out of your blood-stained clothes and into your borrowed dress with no protest. Not for want of trying but her look enough when you’d opened your mouth as she told you to put your arms up was enough.

“Stay.” The red-head orders and gets to her feet, taking the tray with her to be sanitized.

“How do you feel?” Jill asks, as kind as ever. She’s by your bedside, folding up your ruined clothes. You can sense she’s itching to get them to Hortense.

“Fine. It’s not a big deal.” You shrug lightly – your tone a little lighter than you’d wanted it to be. “Can’t I go now?”

“No, you need to wait for that relaxant to wear off. You stand up and your legs will collapse under you like a flan.” Tarja calls over. “Stay in bed.” The door opens. “Well, well, well,” Gav’s voice. “I should’ve known you were in here… given the welcome I got from our beloved leader.”

“What welcome?”

“Gav, this isn’t the tavern – this is the infirmary.” The healer chides.

“But it’s not safe at the Tub and Crown.” Gav approaches your bed, placing his hands on his hips. “Clive’s hunting down a sparring partner and it’s not going to be me with that attitude. He’s got the same look in his eyes the last time you got hurt and he splintered all the training swords.”

“Well, the lady here wouldn’t let him carry her.” Jill reveals. “I’ll take these clothes to Hortense.” She heads towards the door, clutching the cloth to her chest.

“Oh, you’ll have wounded his pride with that!” Gav chuckles. “What with his court manners, ever the chivalrous gent. Why wouldn’t you indulge the poor man – I thought he’d caught your fancy, no?”

“Gav, no, that’s not… Shush.” You protest, though the colour in your cheeks betrays you once more.

“You should let him out of his bloody misery – we all know he’s not going to be the first, so you’ve got to be the brave one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tarja joins Gav at your bedside, placing her hands on her hips once more. “Please. The whole Hideaway knows by now. Even Otto asked me what the hold-up was.”

“The Hideaway is wrong.” You bite your lip and the next sentence comes out in a tumble of words before you can even really think about it. “Besides… if I confessed I’d just embarrass myself – he’s Clive Rosfield.”

“And?”

“And I’m me, Gav.” “Yes, you – a former Branded Bearer turned Cursebreaker, defender of the previous Hideaway, scourge of the Black Shields…” Gav lists off your achievements, sounding incredulous with every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Exactly.” You nod. “Me.”

“Not seeing your point. Don’t tell me you’re scared of sharing your feelings but you’ll go stare down a Morbol easy as anything on a morning.”

“You know, I think she is,” Tarja teases.

“Maybe you could send it in a missive, if you’re too scared of face-to-face. Leave it on his desk, like.”

“Or get Gaute to put it in the reports – he’s always checking those.”

“Yeah, or stick it on the bulletin board…!”

“Okay, fine!” Tarja and Gav pause in their banter and stare at you, smiles still plastered on their faces. “How about I walk up to him at the Cursebreakers' intelligence briefing and tell him that my heart pounds wherever he glances in my direction? What about I stand up on a table at the Tub and Crown and tell him about how it feels like lightning is shooting through my veins for days after any touch we share? How about I meet him in the training pit and tell him I would gladly stand in front of an enemy blade every single day if it meant that he was safe and unharmed.” Your voice is getting louder, your emotions bubbling to the surface, your tongue so relaxed it has a mind of its own. You slide over in the bed, hanging your legs off the side. You can tell Tarja wants to interrupt but you’re on too much of a roll.

“How about I walk into Clive Rosfield’s chambers and announce that I’m in love with him, that I have been for years? That when I lay in bed my thoughts are consumed with him and that low-cut shirt, those broad shoulders and how much I wish he’d take me in his arms and…”

“I did offer - multiple times - and you declined.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of Clive’s voice from the door and you freeze. No, no, no.

“I think that’s my cue.” Gav chuckles, slapping his thighs and getting to his feet, Tarja following. Maybe you could faint? That would make Tarja stay…

The healer pauses, placing a hand on Clive’s shoulder. “Be kind, Clive. I gave her a relaxant for the stitches. I think it relaxed her tongue perhaps a little more than she’d like.”

“Noted.” Why does he sound so amused? She whispers something in his ear and you hear her and Gav’s footsteps leave the infirmary.

You can’t move, can’t look up – horrified of what is about to happen.

His footsteps sound painfully slow until you see his boots by the side of the bed and he crouches down in front of you, trying to catch your gaze. His gloved fingers grasp your chin, gently, tilting your head up to meet his eyes when you refuse.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down? I believe Tarja hasn’t discharged you yet.”

He lets go, a soft smile on his face, as you swallow and shuffle back, carefully, lifting your legs back on the bed and resting your back against the pillow.

There’s a moment of silence before you find your voice. “Clive, what you heard…”

“Is that why you wouldn’t allow me to carry you earlier?”

“Kind of. I just… It would’ve been…” You’re completely tongue-tied. How can you get yourself out of this hole? Why is he smiling?!

“I cannot tell you how long my thoughts have been consumed with ones such as you in my arms… my darling.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Though I must clarify not because you are injured, but I’m upset you’d deny me of the pleasure all the same. I do, however, wish it hadn’t taken you getting injured and a concoction of Tarja’s to hear you boldly return my feelings.” You’re still too stunned to speak.

“May I request a kiss of my beloved?”

A realization hits you. “I died, didn’t I?”

“Let me reassure you this is very real.” He leans forward, placing his palm on your cheek and a chaste kiss on your lips. There’s a delicious smirk on his face as he leans back.

“No, I’m… I’m not sure I felt that, you should reassure me again.”

Clive chuckles, taking your hand and rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

“I’m afraid your physician only permitted me the one kiss in your recovery, but once you’re discharged…”

By the Mothers.

--

I love him. Asks are open for requests - FF16 characters hit me up x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield fluff #final fantasy 16 x reader #ffxvi x reader

[viccyfics]

The troubles of glasses

Fandom: Ghost BC

Chapter: 1/?

Word count: 1199

Summary: Why would a creature from the pit, a soldier of Satan, a Demon need glasses? the times Mountain had an issue with glasses and the times he didn't.

Read here or on Ao3

It had been a week since his summoning, and it was clear to everyone who came in contact with him that something was off, apart from his hearing, but something else.

The way he would squint when reading, the way he couldn't recognise the other ghouls in the hallways unless he was at least a foot away or could smell them and the constant headaches.

"What letter is this?" Aether asked pointing to an eye chart kept in the infirmary for moments exactly like this,

Although it tended to only be used for the siblings on sin, Why would a creature from the pit, a soldier of Satan, or a Demon need glasses?

"F?" Mountain squinted hoping the blur of his eyes was helping, Aether shook his head with a sigh, he had been the one to recommend the eye test to Terzo who quickly accepted the request.

"Cover your left eye and try again" Mountain did as he was told without questioning.

"Still F I think?"

"Does it change when you cover your right eye?"

"Not really" Mountain responded with his right eye covered, "I can see a little better up close but it's not a huge amount".

"Mount you need glasses" Aether spoke walking over to the sitting Earth ghoul.

"Do they even make Ghoul glasses?" Dewdrop asked from where he was standing by the door, "No, but I can't see why human glasses would be any different"

"So there is something wrong with me..." Mountain sighed, his hands fidgeting in his lap and his eyes down at the floor, he had hoped it had just been his eyes getting used to the brightness of being topside rather than an actual issue even after other ghouls had told him they hadn't had that issue he still hoped.

But of course, nothing ever went the way he wanted.

How useful would he be at keeping the current Papa Emeritus safe and playing in the bed if he couldn't see and he could barely hear?

They might as well just send him back to the pit and replace him now.

"Stop that" Aether spoke quietly putting a comforting hand on Mountain's shoulder, "You're not getting sent back, and you're not gonna get replaced because of this"

"How?" Mountain asked before he remembered the quintessence ghoul could probably smell the worry rolling off of him.

"We could even see if Papa could take you into town so you can find some glasses you like" Dewdrop chirped walking over to help comfort the earth ghoul as best as he could.

"You think he would be okay with that?" Mountain asked the water ghoul excitingly.

"Yeah of course he would!" Aether smiled glad Mountain was cheering up, "Would you come with me?" Mountain asked the two ghouls in front of him.

Aether and Dewdrop looked at each other for a moment and back to the tall ghoul "Well we can't have you being a rockstar with bad glasses can we?" Dewdrop joked.

"Up you get, if we ask Papa now we could get lunch in town," Aether said helping bring the tall ghoul to his feet.

The trio started hatching their plan as they stepped out of the infirmary, they were determined to turn the situation into an opportunity for bonding as a pack, which would mean asking Ifrit and Zephyr if they wanted to come along too.

What if humans didn't make the prescription he needed?

A knock brought Mountain out of his thoughts, they had reached Terzo's office a few seconds ago and now were waiting for the pope to open his door.

"Ciao?" Terzo's voice called from inside, he was out of breath but made his way over to the door and popped his head out, "Ah, what can I do for you?" He asked smiling at them.

"We were wondering if we could head into town to get Mountain some glasses" Aether spoke, standing straight with his arms behind his back.

"Fully glamoured obviously", Dewdrop grinned.

"Please take him" A deep voice came from inside the room behind Terzo spoke, "Is that Omega?" Mountain asked trying to peak into the room but not being able to make anything out in the dark room.

"Uh sì, we were just working" Terzo stuttered looking away from the trio, Aether burst out laughing but quickly regained himself.

"so that's a yes?" The quintessential ghoul asked, he received a small nod from Terzo before the door was quickly slammed in their faces.

Aether turned to Mountain with a grin "Let's get you some glasses".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What about these?" Ifrit asked as he turned to face the other ghouls who were fully glamoured and seated in small plastic chairs as Mountain waited to be seen.

He was wearing the smallest black round frames any of them had ever seen, which made his head look huge in comparison making the other ghouls laugh.

"Rowan?" a woman called out even though the group of ghouls were the only people in the opticians.

"That's me" Mountain said heading over to her and leaving his pack to wait for him.

"Rowan?" Dewdrop asked looking over at Aether.

"Papa said he needed a human name to make the appointment and I'm pretty sure a Rowan is a plant or tree or something like that" Aether replied with a shrug.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you said you've already had an eye test?" the woman asked, looking at the small form Mountain had filled out a few minutes earlier.

"Yeah I had one earlier today" Mountain replied nervously as her eyes scanned over him.

"Are you from the ministry?" she asked turning to grab an eye chart from the wall.

"Yeah, how can you tell?" He said sitting up straighter with worry his glamour wasn't as good as he thought.

"Your accent mostly, not many Australians around here so I took a wild guess. Now let's go ahead and start".

She slipped a strange pair of glasses over his eyes and flipped the lenses, "Which one is clearer?" She asked still flipping.

"neither?"

"And these?"

"still neither"

He really couldn't see any different, was she playing with him?

"Strong prescription" she muttered, "especially when you've never needed glasses before and you're twenty-five right?"

Mountain nodded slowly "I thought it was normal I guess"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What about these?"

"Tacky"

"These?"

"Ew"

"These?"

"Is he fifty?"

Mountain couldn't help but smile as he left the room and the first thing he hears is his pack messing around trying on different frames.

"Hi guys" Mountain sighed, Aether snapped around to face him, "How did it go?"

"She said I've got a strong prescription and I need to wear glasses all the time".

"We'll it's a good job I found a pair you might like, here" Aether handed the Earth ghoul a pair of large-square-rimmed glasses.

"The guy behind the counter said they're also really durable."

Mountain glanced down at them with a slight frown, they weren't as exciting as he had hoped but something about them was calling to him.

He tucked the arms over his ears and under his hair, stepping as close to the mirror as he could without fogging it up.

"These. I want these."

#ghost band #Ghost BC #Mountain ghoul #Aether ghoul #Dewdrop ghoul #Ifrit ghoul #Zephyr ghoul #Vic fics #Ghost fanfiction #Fanfiction writer #Short fics

[uwingdispatch]

Every Embrace

Every Embrace

Notes: Bodhi Rook/Gender Neutral Reader, disabled reader, everyone lives au, post-rebellion, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, fluff and angst

CW: PTSD, chronic illness, disability, medical settings, implied sexual intimacy

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

You don’t know many people who wear glasses. Most beings on Chandrila and other developed worlds undergo a simple surgery to correct their vision. But Bodhi—he had a particularly unpleasant experience with the Imperial surgeon who’d worked on his eyes at the academy, and he has no intention of ever having that kind of surgery again. Which means the goggles he wears for other mechanical work aren’t just a safety precaution—they now have prescription lenses. And if he needs to read anything, whether it’s his data pad or a cereal box, he needs glasses.

At the moment, Bodhi is frantically going through every drawer in the house. “Love,” he asks, “are you sure you didn’t move them?”

“I never touch your glasses,” you say. “Because of exactly this.”

He sighs. “I could have sworn I left them on the table in the living room.”

It occurs to you that Bodhi fell asleep reading on the sofa last night and had to be coaxed to get up and come to bed. After lifting a few cushions, you find not one but two pairs of specs in the sofa. You call his name and hold your findings up in front of you.

His smile brightens his whole face. “I was starting to feel a bit mad,” he says. “Where were they?”

“Couch cushions.”

Bodhi takes the lenses from you, puts one pair on the kitchen counter and one on his head, like he used to wear those welding goggles back during the war. You know based on your own experience with eye health, and the eye health of many of your peers, that one of these days your partner is going to find himself needing corrective lenses for more than just reading. As you watch him return to his task, hunched over the recipe he’d been trying to read, those glasses ever so slightly sliding down the bridge of his nose—you can’t help but think how handsome he looks.

“Good,” he says. “I added a few things to the grocery list, and I’ve sent it to Cilvie in case you two want to do that tomorrow.”

“Bodhi—”

“It’s fine if you don’t. I can take care of it after work.”

“We can probably go to the store tomorrow. But I need you to sit down. You haven’t stopped moving since you got home.”

Bodhi sighs, running a hand through his long, dark hair. “I’ve been trying not to think about it,” he says. “I just feel like…maybe I’m forgetting again.”

Every fiber of your being wants to run to him, but you know he needs to come to you. With his memory—he doesn’t talk about it if he doesn’t want to and you know not to pry.

So you sit on the couch, take a deep breath, close your eyes. And when you open them, he’s there, next to you. He wraps his arms around you, his big hands gentle and warm. He slides his glasses to the top of his head again, pushing back his hair.

“You always figure me out,” he says. “But please don’t panic on my behalf.”

“Are you actually comforting me right now, Bo?” you ask. “When you’re clearly struggling?”

“No one calls me that but you,” he says. “Not since I was small.” He stares straight ahead for a moment, something in his eyes tells you he’s not entirely here with you.

“Bo,” you say, “come back to me.”

He smiles, takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes…” he says, pausing to take a breath. “Sometimes it’s nice for me to just be able to take care of you. To make sure you are safe and happy. Maybe it’s a bit selfish but it’s something I couldn’t do even for myself for a long time.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you notice how nice he smells—some combination of shampoo, the clean cotton of his shirt, a light cologne he knows you like. You want to ask him what he’s thinking, whether he’s okay. But you know he has more to tell you. And the only way you’ll hear it is if you wait for him to be ready.

It’s not long before he lets out a long breath and says, “I made a doctor’s appointment a few weeks ago. Neurology specialist.”

“That’s a big step,” you say, wondering how much he’d been keeping from you, knowing how he hates the idea of burdening you with his own health issues. “You could have told me—I know this is really hard on you.”

“I know. It’s just a little too real, I guess.” He pauses. “But I have to know.”

It had been years since Bodhi had had his mind violated by Bor Gullet, a being who could not only see inside your mind but change it, move things around, make you believe anything or leave you with nothing at all. Bodhi was lucky to have mostly recovered, but there were side effects—then and still. For a while doctors said his symptoms lined up entirely with his PTSD, but Bodhi wasn’t so sure. Doubts like that can overwhelm a person, and now, after all this time wondering if he might have some kind of brain injury, there’s only one way to find out for sure.

“When is it?” you ask.

“Well,” he says, a “It was set for a few months from now. But I got a call right before I left work today and there’s an opening tomorrow. So…”

You take his face in your hands, gently caress his short beard before drawing him into a brief kiss. “I’m proud of you,” you say. “Where are we going tomorrow?”

“We?”

“I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“All right then,” he says. “The specialist is on Hosnian Prime. We’ll have to leave early.”

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be with you.”

Bodhi takes your hand, brings it to his lips for a sweet kiss. “Thank you, love.”

You hear Cilvie chirping from down the hall: packing your bag.

Someone in this house is always eavesdropping, but it is nice of your droid to take care of that for you. You thank her, and then look to Bodhi, his big, dark eyes reflecting so much love.

“It’s going to be okay,” you tell him. “We’ve got this.”

*

You’d been living together for just a few months the first time Bodhi went to a doctor’s appointment with you. He’d actually suggested it, hoping to provide some comfort, maybe even get some insight into what to watch out for in an emergency. If it had been any other man, you might have balked at the idea, wondered what controlling nonsense he was up to. But it was Bodhi, the most sincere being you’d ever met. So you agreed.

Unfortunately, the appointment he joined you on had brought a decent amount of bad news. Medications weren’t working as they were supposed to, side effects of other medications might be too risky given your conditions. You left feeling somehow both deflated and panicky. When Bodhi came in from the waiting room, the physician had nothing helpful to share with him, either.

In the turbolift, on the way from the doctor’s office to the parking garage, Bodhi asked you, “How are you feeling? I mean, physically.”

“Not terrible,” you told him. “Same as this morning.”

“Right,” he said. “Okay, well, we’re getting dessert then.”

“Have you even had lunch?” you asked.

“I think dessert is in order regardless,” he said, putting an arm around you, bringing your body close to his. “Maybe a bit of chocolate, even.”

Bodhi touched his nose to yours and you closed your eyes, breathing in the comfort of being close to him, his familiar scent, the steady beating of his heart, the strands of hair fallen loose from his braid brushing against your cheek.

“I really thought there was going to be good news today,” you said. “Something helpful.”

“I know.” he whispered. “I’m so sorry that wasn’t the case.”

“I’m so tired,” you said. “How do we have so many advancements in medicine and I’m still such a mess?”

“You’re not a mess,” he said. “I know I can’t do a lot to help right now, but…whatever I can do? I’m going to do that.” You’d almost reached the level where your speeder was parked when Bodhi pressed a kiss to your lips and said, “If that’s all right with you, I mean.”

And in his embrace, some of your anxiety started to fade. He took your hand as you walked to your vehicle, opened the door for you as if you were on a first date. “I know a place,” Bodhi said. “I have a client in this neighborhood that I’ve done work for. She has a hard time leaving the house so usually Pao or I come to her. And there’s a cantina—you’ll see. The sweets menu is glorious.”

“Glorious?”

“Glorious.”

It was a quick drive to the little cantina, and when you walked in, Bodhi’s arm around your waist, you immediately knew why he wanted to bring you here. It was a casual comfort food spot, and right by the door was the very full dessert case.

You found a booth in the back corner and you ended up ordering a sandwich to split before indulging in the dessert menu. It was just before dusk and not particularly crowded. As you were waiting for your late lunch, Bodhi got up from the table abruptly, told you he’d be right back.

When you’d met, back on Yavin, Bodhi had been shy, almost debilitatingly so, often compensating for his anxiety by talking too fast and too much—something you’d come to find charming even if others merely tolerated it. But in the pilot’s seat or in combat, according to the folks who’d fought alongside him, he would almost become a different person—a man with a commanding presence and a sharp tactical mind. That was how he’d been consistently promoted. If he hadn’t decided to step away from the Navy, you both knew he would have earned the rank of General.

He’d grown into himself since those early days, his confidence coming back to him as he’d found strength in his found family. In you. But still, it surprised you when he put a credit in the cantina’s old-fashioned jukebox, returning to you with an outstretched hand.

“I’ve always loved this song,” he said. “Come dance with me.”

“What?” you asked, not entirely sure that he was serious.

“Dance with me, love. Just for a little while.”

You raised an eyebrow as you took his hand, the slow, soft melody coming in over the speakers in the early evening calm.

“Come on, now,” he said, a smile in his eyes. “This song makes me think of you, you know.”

As soon as you were in his arms, it didn’t matter whether people were watching. “How many years have I known you, Bodhi Rook? And not known that you could dance?”

“Too many, perhaps,” he said, quickly brushing his lips over your cheek. “Maybe this is something we should do more often.”

“Dancing?”

“With the promise of dessert.”

*

Bodhi’s original U-Wing was a total loss when it crashed on Endor. And while he’d enjoyed his stint as an X-Wing pilot through the Battle of Jakku and the month that he’d spent piloting a repurposed zeta-class transport—much like the one he’d flown with the Empire—it was the U-Wing that he kept coming back to when he was looking for something to salvage for personal use.

“My whole life turned around when Cassian pulled me aboard that ship,” he said on the day he finally made his decision. “It’s a quite different, this civilian model. I’ll have to install a hyperdrive somehow, and we’ll need a new droid port…”

You’d let him ramble, even though what he was saying may as well have been Huttese to you. And today as you board the U-Wing—Bodhi’s U-Wing—you admire as always the beauty of it, so much of it built from scrap but crafted and polished to look like new. With his hands.

Now in hyperspace, the silver streak of stars just outside the transparisteel windows, you settle on one of the plush benches that Bodhi had reupholstered himself a few years back. With Red keeping an eye on the navigation, Bodhi comes back to sit with you.

“Thanks for coming with me, love,” he says,  “I can’t say I’m excited about this.”

“I know,” you say. “But if you get some answers, it’s worth it, right?”

He nods, pulling your legs over his so you’re nearly in his lap, his arms around you, bringing closer to his body. “I’m so afraid that I could lose something important. In my mind,” he says. “That I could lose my memories with you.”

You place one hand over his heart. He’s wearing a v-neck t-shirt and a soft cardigan—so different from how you used to find him in the back of the old U-Wing, so many years ago. But, stars, how you love him in v-necks—how they compliment his toned chest, the way one of his tattoos peeks out from under the collar.

“Bodhi,” you say. “That won’t happen. And if it did, I’d be right here to remind you.”

You caress your partner’s cheek, give his neatly trimmed beard a little tickle before he touches his forehead to yours, a few strands of dark hair slipping from where he’d pulled it halfway back, still damp from his shower earlier this morning.

“I hope the answer isn’t surgery,” he says. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll do it together, Bo,” you say. “I promise. There’s nothing in the galaxy that you have to do alone.”

“Okay.”

“You look really nice today, you know.”

“Now you’re just trying to distract me.”

“Maybe I am,” you say. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Bodhi kisses you then, his hunger for your touch evident as he takes your face in his hands, his lips moving slow but firm as they fit to yours so perfectly that you feel like you were made for each other.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Is this okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” you tell him.

He responds with more kisses, deeper and more urgent as he leads you to the little pull-out cot he’d installed where on his old Alliance ship there would have been a second door and an ion canon. As you lie down, Bodhi folding the both of you under a blanket and sliding his hands under your clothes, you’re glad for the curtain behind the cockpit. When Bodhi’s gentle fingertips trace the curve of your thigh, you hope that this moment of pleasure is bringing him even half the peace it’s bringing you, a bit of warm calm in the cold of hyperspace.

*

“You know, the day we met, I thought that I’d never get to spend any time with you—and I hated it,” you told Bodhi. Back at home, you were now snuggled up on the couch together watching a holofilm you’d both seen more times than you could remember. “You were a big hero—the kind of pilot who had so much attention on him that he’d never have the time to spend with non-combat personnel.”

“Well,” he said. “As I’ve told you, I fell in love with you the day I met you, when you handed me that jacket. I’d never had a jacket that fit me so well,” He paused to softly run his knuckles over your cheek. “And you were so beautiful, love. Radiating kindness. I had no choice but to break things on purpose to keep coming back to see you.”

“Excuse me?” you said. There were a few times that you suspected he might be up to something, but back then you couldn’t quite imagine that this attractive, important man would break so many zippers just to see you.

“I didn’t really leave the cockpit much that first year after Scarif. Between having to learn to use my new leg and the fact that I was rubbish with a blaster…well, I wasn’t putting as much strain on my clothes as, say, Han or Jyn.”

“I knew it,” you said, laughing.

“And you never said anything?” Bodhi’s smile was so big and so charming—the smile you’d fallen for back on Yavin. And you reached to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear, a handsome, if premature, streak of silver that had come in a year or so ago.

“Because every day I hoped to hear you’d somehow popped another button on your uniform. So that I could see you, too. Plus, you always brought me caf—and knew exactly how I liked it.”

“Of course I did. You were it for me,” he said, kissing you softly. “You are it for me, love. You know that right?”

You smile. “Well…let’s just say a more responsible tailor would have taught you to sew a button.”

“I’m glad you never did.”

“Me, too.”

*

It’s hard being in the waiting room, knowing that Bodhi is just beyond a door you can see a few meters away from where you’re sitting, and not wanting to be there. But there’s radiation involved, and he has Red, so Bodhi suggested that you go explore downtown. And you’d thought about it, but ended up just getting a cup of caf and a sandwich and returning to the waiting room to read a book. It’s been a few hours, and you’re starting to worry when the door opens and Bodhi emerges, followed by Red.

He looks tired—but not upset. You must look tired, too, because the first thing he says is, “How long have you been sitting here?”

“I just wanted to be here if you needed me,” you told him.

Red chirps: made sure Bodhi was okay.

“I know you did.” You say, giving the droid a little pat. Turning back to Bodhi, you ask, “How’d it go?”

He takes your hand and leads you out of the office, to the turbolift, out to the busy sidewalk. And then he says, “Mostly good news, I think.” He pauses, takes a breath. “Let’s find a place to get some dinner and we can talk about it.”

So you find a little diner, snag a corner booth, retrieve Bodhi’s reading glasses from your shoulder bag so he can read the menu, and after ordering some local comfort food, he tells you about the appointment.

“So they did find something,��� he says. His voice is a little shaky, and you squeeze his hand. “I should have had you come in to hear it from the doctor—something about scar tissue. But it’s entirely treatable.”

“What kind of treatment?”

“There’s a medication that they sent to the pharmacy back home,” he says. “But I have to take it in conjunction with therapy.”

You smile at Bodhi, the look on his face a bit sheepish. Bodhi hadn’t done talk therapy in years. His previous therapist had retired unexpectedly and he never got around to finding someone new. He was doing pretty well so you’d never felt like it was your place to push him to find a new clinician. But you can tell in this moment that he’s dreading it.

“Are you going to do it?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says. “The neurologist already put in a referral to someone back on Chandrila. I looked her up, she sounds lovely. But I’m not thrilled about it.”

You reach to touch his face, tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. “Whatever you need from me to support you in this, it’s yours.

“Thank you,” he says before sneaking a quick kiss. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me, too.”

When you leave the diner, it’s dark out. Both of you had talked earlier about possibly doing something fun tonight, but that was before the long day you’d had. Standing on the sidewalk, you ask Bodhi if he’s about ready to head back to the ship to get some sleep before leaving tomorrow.

“Actually, love,” he says. “I booked us a room. I thought it would be nice. Maybe even a bit romantic…I know you’re probably exhausted, though.”

“How far is it from here?”

Bodhi points out a tall building just a few blocks away. “It’s right there, I think. With the red spire. Are you good to walk?”

“I should be fine.”

With Bodhi’s arm around your waist you make your way to the hotel and, when you get to your room, Red plugs himself into the droid port in the corner and lets you know that he’s shutting down for the night. You’re about to ask about your luggage when you find that Bodhi has had your bags brought here by a courier earlier that day.

“You’ve thought of everything,” you say.

Bodhi pulls you close, touches his nose to yours. “You deserve everything, darling,” he says. “I mean that.”

When he kisses you, the sounds of the city fade away and a desire wakes inside you, a hunger to be closer to this brave, good man—who even in the midst of his own difficulties is thinking of you. You press closer to him, and Bodhi starts humming—a song he always says reminds him of you, and you sway with him, a sweet slow dance to shake off the stress of the day.

Soon you’re undressing each other, stumbling toward the bed, sliding into the soft sheets, clothes landing in piles on the floor.

Bodhi kisses your jaw and whispers in your ear, “You took such good care of me today. Can I take care of you now?”

You nod and he begins a gentle trail of kisses down your neck, your shoulder, your clavicle, your sternum. His beard tickles your skin as you realize you have goosebumps from the pleasure of his touch.

“Stars,” he says, taking your hand, his fingers lacing in between yours. “Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?”

And as he continues, pressing his soft lips to your tummy, you know he knows that neither of you are perfect by any standard measurement. That you are both deeply flawed, clinically. Emotionally. Still, you believe him when he tells you this.

“So are you,” you tell him. “And I love you so much.”

He hushes you, and you make a mental note to reassure him later of his strength and his beauty, how his body and his mind are exquisite and how lucky you are to have him. But for now, you relax into this moment with him, a sweet bit of pleasure that both of you deserve.

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! I love writing Bodhi. I need a universe where he lives. But we have our AU. I hope this fic makes you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.)

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @princessxkenobi @aerynwrites @belfry-bat @phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @zinzinina @darthanakn @disastersim @infinityrevengers @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @mintpurplemnm @multifandom-fic-rec-blog @itsallrandomcontent @myfandomlikesandstories @stormkobra-5 @ahookedheroespureheart @withasideofmeg @galaxtic-writings @campingwiththecharmings @actuallyanita

#bodhi rook #bodhi rook x reader #bodhi rook x you #bodhi rook x gn reader #bodhi rook x gn!reader #bodhi rook fanfic #bodhi rook fanfiction #rogue one #rogue one fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #hurt/comfort #ptsd #emotional hurt/comfort #domestic fluff #fluff #fluff and angst #soft!bodhi #established relationship #post-rogue one #everyone lives au #uwingwriting

[thisfairytalegonebad]

"See the chains around my feet." / Vows - Whumptober day 21

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Character: Noctis Lucis Caelum Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

Noct’s life has never been his own. From the very start, everyone around him made sure to remind him of that.

“Prince Noctis, how do you expect to leave a good impression with Accordian diplomats if you can’t even speak their language?” his tutor said when he struggled with the conjugation of irregular Accordian verbs.

“Noctis, as King, you must do what is best for your people even if it is not what is best for you,” his father said when Noct watched him wither away from the strain of keeping the Wall up.

“Noct, you must leave a good impression tonight,” Ignis said when Noct was about to give an interview and he made sure Noct’s hair looked presentable and his tie was straight.

“C’mon, Noct, you don’t get to just give up,” Gladio said when Noct lost to him in combat training yet again and threw his sword to the ground in frustration.

No, every aspect of Noct’s life has been ruled by other people, for other people, so he’s not really sure why he thought he would at least get this particular part of his life to himself, why this especially hits him like a punch to the gut.

PRINCE NOCTIS OF LUCIS TO MARRY LADY LUNAFREYA OF TENEBRAE

His father only just called him into his study yesterday to tell him about the betrothal, and by today morning, the headline was already printed on the front page of every newspaper in the country.

It’s a little like a nightmare he can’t wake up from, except he knows exactly that he’s not dreaming.

Did Luna know about this? Did they spring it onto her at the last possible second too? How does she feel about having to marry him?

The problem’s not the fact that it’s Luna. Objectively, Luna’s probably the best option he can get, and he can only hope that she feels similarly. The problem is that he doesn’t want to get married, at least not yet, no matter to whom. The problem is that he wants to choose who he marries instead of being paired off with someone purely for the politics of it. The problem is that no one even bothered including him in the process that went into making that decision even though it’s his life.

And now he’s sitting here in front of a blank paper, tasked with writing his own wedding vows.

Abruptly, he stands. His chair topples over from the force of it, but he can’t bring himself to care.

His collar feels too tight around his neck - he’s already in a dress shirt for the interviews he’s supposed to give later today, but now his fingers scramble to open the buttons, he needs to get it off and get out, he can’t breathe and he needs to be anywhere but here.

A button rips off the shirt when he finally wrestles it open, hitting the floor with a soft plink. He tosses the shirt aside and makes for his bedroom, grabbing his most normal-looking t-shirt and a hat, and then he remembers the non-prescription glasses he still has from a photoshoot and grabs those too.

Hastily, he scrawls a note for Ignis and/or Gladio, whoever gets to his apartment faster when they get the alert.

Not kidnapped, just needed to get out. I’ll be back. I’m sorry.

As an afterthought, he scribbles his signature and a string of letters and words that are code for “I Am Saying This Of My Own Accord And Without Anyone Holding A Gun To My Head”, and then he sends a text to Prompto, asking, no, practically begging him to meet him in front of the arcade.

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turns off his phone, puts it on the table next to the note, and warps out of the window.

The moment he turned his phone off, an alert was sent to Gladio, Ignis, Dad, and just about every high-ranking security official in the Citadel, so he doesn’t have much time until they send the Glaives after him.

For a brief moment he considers sticking to the rooftops, but that’s something that only really works in movies and video games, even with warping. Besides, the Glaives are sure to spot the blue flashes, so it’s safer to blend in with a crowd.

Social stealth, his mind supplies, and the game reference tears a hysterical laugh from his throat.

The laugh almost turns into a sob and he quickly presses his hand over his mouth to stifle it.

Shit, he’s a mess - how did anyone think it would be a good idea to have him marry Luna?!

----

When he gets to the arcade, Prompto is already there, fidgeting nervously with his phone. As soon as he spots Noct, he runs over to him.

“Dude, what’s going on, you didn’t answer my text, are you okay?” Prompto says all in one breath and stares at him with wide-eyed concern, and somehow that’s almost enough to make Noct tear up.

“Just needed to get out, I’m fine,” he says even though he’s decidedly not, but Prompto immediately understands it to be I’m fine in the sense of I’m not bleeding and no one’s after me and not I’m fine in the sense of I’m actually fine.

“I guess you didn't tell anyone you left?” he asks instead of prying because he’s seen the headline, of course he knows what’s going on.

Noct rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. It comes away wet. “I left a note.”

“Okay. Okay. So, you don’t wanna be found too quickly, yeah? So we can’t go back to my house, and, no offense but the arcade’s a shitty hiding spot because that’s like the second place they’ll look,” Prompto points out.

“So where would you go?”

“Dunno. The park?” Prompto shrugs. He looks mildly terrified, and, right, Noct’s getting him into a ton of trouble here, but Prompto isn’t asking questions, isn’t telling him what a bad idea this is even though it is, and Noct loves him for it.

Neither of them has any better ideas, so they go to the park. It’s a weekday, so there aren’t too many people about, and when they find a near-empty playground, Prompto tugs him towards the swings.

Noct can’t remember the last time he’s used a swing, isn’t even sure if he’s ever actually used a swing. He’s a bit too tall for it, he has to bend his legs awkwardly, and the chains the swing is hanging from bite uncomfortably into his palm.

But Prompto starts swinging a little, so Noct does too, and for a while, they just sit and idly swing back and forth without talking.

A few times, Noct opens his mouth, tries to say something, but then he changes his mind and closes it again. He’s… he’s not ready to have a conversation, not about the wedding, not about Luna, and not about anything mundane, not when it feels like his life is being torn from his hands and he’s expected to smile through the whole thing.

Eventually, a little girl runs up to them and asks to use the swing, and a little embarrassed, they get up.

Noct pulls his hat down so it hides a bit more of his face and gives the kid a small smile. “Yeah, sorry, it’s all yours.”

The girl’s mother is staring at him a little too intently, and Noct doesn’t want to push his luck, so he grabs Prompto by the arm and pulls him away before she can blow his cover.

Prompto quickly falls into pace with him and points towards the other end of the park. “There’s a duck pond there. Wanna go check it out?”

All the benches are full, most of them taken by elderly people who are feeding the ducks with rice and bird seeds, but Prompto simply sits down on the grass by the pond.

Noct does the same, carefully lowering himself down onto the ground. His back is going to complain about it later, but right now he’s got bigger things to worry about.

“I want you to be there,” he says abruptly.

“Hm?”

“The wedding. In Altissia. I want you there. I don’t care who I’ll need to fight to make it happen.”

His own father can’t attend his wedding. Noct’s been informed of that pretty much in the same breath as he’s been told about the engagement. Gladio and Ignis will be there, and Noct is more grateful for that than he can ever express. But Prompto is someone he chose, someone who has chosen him, and Noct is going to fight tooth and nail to have at least this: his best friend at his wedding.

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, buddy,” Prompto says quietly.

There’s so much sincerity in his voice that tears well up in Noct’s eyes and he quickly lies down on the grass so Prompto doesn’t see them.

Soon, the Glaives are going to lock down the park, search every nook and cranny until they’ve found him, and then they’re going to return him to his apartment where he’s going to get chewed out by Ignis and Gladio, and his dad is going to give him a disappointed look, and he's probably even going to make it to the interview in time.

But right now, he lies in the grass with his best friend, watching the clouds pass by, and wishes that this moment could last forever.

----

Read all of my Whumptober prompt fills here.

#whumptober2023 #no.21 #see the chains around my feet #vows #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fic #noctis lucis caelum #thisfairytalegonebad's writing

[creedx13]

Make More Mutants Part 1 karakoa AU

(TW: rape medical malpractice, rage, and forced pregnancy.)

My Uncle Kurt, the only member of my biological family I have left that wants anything to do with me. he has abandoned me, and many other mutants like me to some of the worst villains around. We are sitting ducks, easy pickings for the likes of Azazel, aim, and Hydra. 

It all started with his brand spanking new seat on the quiet council the presiding rulers of Karakoa an island nation created to protect all of Mutant kind. What a fucking joke. We have three great laws kill no flat scan, protect and care for our sacred land; and finally my illustrious uncle’s handy work “Make more mutants” -Kurt Wagner.

This law left no guidelines whatsoever.

As soon as I went to our brand-new medical center to pick up my testosterone prescription. I was told they couldn’t give me any and I had no choice but to have My IUD removed or be sent to the pit for violating the make more mutants law. I’m still a teenager. I’m not ready to become pregnant I don’t want to make more mutants yet. They had hospital guards ready to drag me into the pit themselves so I readily agreed not that I had much of a choice in the matter and it was my own uncle that stole that choice from me. Escapade shela something, she was in the waiting room when I got out still unsteady on my feet from the procedure. She was shaking and sobbing her heart out it seems we had the same problem.

“let me guess, make more mutants got you down?” she looked up at me and nodded simply, and flung herself into my arms I usually scare the people I first meet oh well there's a first time for everything. I tried to stay calm stoic strong. I am a feral, a living tank, a little medicine denial doesn’t phase me. No, that was a lie I am just as scared as escapade. In her desperate embrace, all those ignored feelings bubble up to the surface until I start crying along with her. 

It has been 6 months since then and I am now 5 months pregnant with the child of Azazel. I am carrying my uncle's half-sibling. It sounds like incest but It’s somehow not incest. Because I am related to my uncle through mystique but I have no genetic relation to Azazel like Kurt has. Azazel has been targeting shapeshifters and those with a healing factor to be able to bear him children like some sort of harem of pregnant rape victims. some were seduced but I was not in that category of willing participants. Abortion like birth control is also illegal on Karakoa under the make new mutants law. My own uncle threw me to Azazel like it was nothing and I am ready to kick his ass for it.

I have finally arrived outside the door to Kurt’s habitat I stare at it letting all the rage and fear hate betrayal pain bubble up inside me. Finally, it all comes to a crest and I kick his door in, in one smooth motion just like Mr. Logan taught me.  “Come on out little man!” I growl I’m starting to sound like Sabertooth but I don’t care at this point all I feel is a calm cool rage My eyes ears and nose are on the lookout for my uncle. I can hear his heartbeat and the distinct anxious swish of his tail from his bathroom. Probably just got out of the bath good I caught him unprepared. I unsheath my claws and rake them across his wall. His heartbeat quickens and I grin. “YOU’LL ANSWER FOR YOUR SINS, WHEN I FEED YOU YOUR OWN TAIL!” I launch my fist straight through his flimsy cheap bathroom door. I hear Him squeak then bamf, he reeks of terror and brimstone, I love it. His fear is satisfying like a shot of pure dark pleasure; this is what my rage craves, his fuzzy head. I whip around and stalk deeper into his apartment he’ll be on the ceiling I need to get my back to a corner. I find I was wrong when I come face to face with him in his bathrobe standing on top of his kitchen island facing me ready for a fight, sword in hand. (Part 2 coming soon)

#sabertooth #x men comics #x men #james howlett #kurt wagner #logan howlett #wolverine #james logan howlett #Jason Creed

[imhaunting]

:(

#anxious as fuck cause my doctor answered like - idk what that is idk what u want can u clear that up #When i straight up sent him what prescription i needed so i can start the process of getting 'official dysphoria' #And like sure he's old i would love to send him more info #BUT THERE IS NONE #THERE'S FUCK ALL EXPLAINING ONLINE #reached out to a website and hopefully they'll be able to help #But I'm so fucking anxious #Cause apparently it'll cost almost a grand JUST to be diagnosed w dysphoria #And like don't come @ me i know i have it easy cause we have public healthcare but like.... I cannot afford that #Plus i have a history of mental illness and when i talk about trans stuff it's always in english so fucking odds are they'll say i don't #Have enough dysphoria or some bullshit like that #And I'm doing all this behind my parents back which is 100% gonna blow up in my face #And I'm so fucking overwhelmed #Why is it this fucking hard #Fucking why #I'm so.. Lost #I can't fucking afford this shit my parents are gonna definitely pull something if/when they find out #I just... Feel sick

[bakugohoex]

Porco Requests? I've got plenty. This man is running through my mind 24/7 now. What about Porco with a super shy s/o? This man would treat his S/o right. Uncomfortable? Just tell me why. Too nervous? I'll tell everyone to shut up and listen to you. UGH I LOVE THIS MAN.

“i’ll make them listen, don’t worry baby”

pairing: porco galliard x gender neutral reader

cw: modern au, langage, fluff

word count: 1300+

a/n: brooo porco is so baby i love him so much, i’m a simp 

summary: in which you the shy reader are in a relationship with porco

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

THIS MAN WOULD BE THE SWEETEST BOYFRIEND EVER.

He’d definitely be the one who came up to you asking for your number, you’d probably be walking outside of uni or something and he saw you and he needed your number.

Asks for it with the worst pick up line ever, something along the lines of I seem to have forgotten my phone number, can I have yours? You were an entire mess refusing to meet his eye and even forgetting that numbers have 9 digits and not 8.

You don’t even give him your name; you just say your number and leave in a hurry. 

His bad pick-up line clearly did wonders to you. 

He’d definitely text you straight after with his name and start asking questions, can’t lie he’d carry the conversation until you became comfortable with him.

He would definitely ask you to dinner or the movies on the weekend, you aired him for 20 minutes in shock. 

No words, he’d see the three dots in the bubble multiple times and then it’d disappear.

Half an hour later, a simple yes comes through. You’d never told him how you texted and called all your friends for advice on the mysterious man. 

You make your friends follow you both on your date, they actually take notes on how he opens the restaurant door for you, pulls the chair out, pays for the meal, he's such a gentleman and he does the talking after he realises, you’re shy around him.

He would walk you home, you’d both do that thing where your hands keep brushing against each other before he finally just grabs your fingers.

You’d give him a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night and this man would blush so hard. His ears would prick pink and a redness with speckle across his face. He hides it so quickly and before you can go inside, he’d ask for another date in the quietest voice possible. 

You accept, who fucking wouldn’t.

A couple months into your relationship, the facetimes and texts were equally split between you two. 

You’d scream down the phone to tell him about the new anime merch that had just arrived or complain about your day. You do not talk half an hour to send a message to him anymore.

Your friends think you two will marry, it’s certain, they have it all planned. 

Even with your shyness around new people you got along with his friends having met them a couple times. Pieck was always your favourite person to see at parties and gatherings but you were often talked over a lot when the louder confident ones at the parties spoke. 

Porco would notice this in an instant and always try and get your opinion out knowing that you liked the topic and had insight on it.

This man will literally tell everybody to shut the fuck up (politely to not make you embarrassed), just so they can hear you speak.

He also does it just to listen to you ramble on about your favourite topics.

*heart eyes*.

Or if someone makes you uncomfortable by getting too close or trying to get with you, this man will be at your side, lacing his fingers with yours and taking you to people you’re more comfortable with.

All in all this man is a simp and would bring but the best in you. 

“Y/n, Porco, you guys finally made it.” Pieck laughed a drink in her hand as she slouched against the sofa, the sound of music blaring and lights flashing sent you to grab onto your boyfriend's arm. 

He could already sense your unease at your surroundings, your grip tightening as his arm wrapped around you. “I’ll stay by your side the entire night.” 

You smile nodding at the boy, his blonde hair pulled back as usual, he gave a soft smile back before kissing your forehead. You had expected a night filled with drinking and being around friends, but you seemed to have been taken by Bertholdt and Reiner with Porco following along to the living room. 

They sat down as you situated yourself next to Porco, his hand in your hair as you leant against his body, the conversation had been boring, talking about some game on the PS4 that you had heard Porco shouting at a couple weeks ago. 

“I won that match.” Porco took a swig of the drink, your own drink on the table as you stared at it bored out of your mind. 

Reiner raised an eyebrow leaning his arms around the sofa, “fuck that you know I won it all together, one-win doesn’t make you a winner.”

Porco scowled at the boy before the conversation turned to something you enjoyed a lot more, “this guy really said Ichigo would beat Naruto.” Your ears perked at the conversation; it was between people you hadn't met but Annie had noticed how your eyes widened knowing you’d have the best input. 

She smiled starting to converse with the boys, “what the fuck really?”

You had always loved Bleach and Naruto, your favourite being Bleach and having talked to death about it to Porco and now with Annie including you, you had started to break off from your shyness, “Y/n’s up to date on both manga’s actually.” Annie was often cold with people but you two had become friends with ease having the same interests and her coldness and your shyness became an unlikely duo. 

“Let me guess another Ichigo simp.” One of the guys said and you gave a wary look, Ichigo was hot. You knew that and you knew that being a girl involved in a manga that had been directed towards teen boys made you become quiet. “She probably read the manga for the guys.”

“Not really.” You muttered, “I read it because it was actually interesting especially when Ichigo fights Ulquiorra”.

Your entire statement had been ignored and Annie had tried to include you, but you continued to be dismissed as just another girl simping for the characters. Of course you were a simple but to exclude you too one category was disheartening. You moved closer to Porco, he had watched the scene, how you had been ignored and now with your head leaning against his chest once again. 

“I’ll make them listen, don’t worry baby.” His voice was a soft whisper, leaving a soft kiss against your forehead before starting to converse with the guys. “You guys are talking about who would win?”

“Yeah, some guy saw Ichigo and thought he’d win against Naruto.” Porco started nodding, acting like he knew who these characters were, of course he had some idea of who they were, but he hadn't watched either as he got bored of how long it was.

“Oh, my girlfriends read and watched both, she’s better suited to this.” He pointed to you as you smiled at him, he was never going to tell them to our right shut up as it’d be a dick move, but it allowed for you to talk.

You gave a soft smile before you joined the conversation properly, the guys seemed intrigued by your opinion. Explaining both sides and why other anime fans would believe it to occur, as you sat upright rambling and talking. Porco watched with an intense look, he didn't need to speak, just watch and admire. He knew how you’d talk and talk and talk about anything you were interested in, but he saw how even with your initial shyness and dismissiveness they listened. Adding their own input, his hand went to reach your fingers, you felt it lacing your fingers.

He could listen to you talk forever, listen to every single word you ever said. Because he loved you and in those moments. Just staring at your beauty, the way your fingers gripped his own, the soft necklace he had bought your across your neck. He knew you’d be the one he’d spend the rest of his life with.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

#porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco x reader #galliard x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #attack on titan porco #attack on titan porco galliard #aot porco #aot porco galliard #attack on titan porco x reader #aot porco x reader #bakugohoex #porco galliard headcanons #porco galliard oneshots #porco galliard fluff

[simmerandwrite]

strangers - steve rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment and non-consensual touching, swearing.

Word count: 4870

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When your subway ride home takes a turn for the worst, you hope a stranger in a coffee shop will help you out.

Notes: If you saw a snippet of this the other day, here’s the full thing! I wanted to tackle some ‘in need of saving’ tropes and this just sort of happened. I’ve never posted straight up on Tumblr before but I’m a bit lacking in my experience with reader fics, so I figured this was a good place to share it. no beta, any mistakes are my own! If you like it, let me know - thanks for reading!

—

Steve Rogers liked his days off. Not that he had a set schedule week to week anyway but when things aligned correctly, he could do whatever he wanted. No world saving, no training, no report writing, no meetings.

He had scoped out a small little coffee shop in Brooklyn where he liked to spend these quiet afternoons. Usually with a book in hand (he had so many books to catch up on) or some music loaded to his phone (Nat was currently educating him on 90s punk rock) or a notebook and pencil. People watching served as wonderful inspiration to sketch.

He sipped his cappuccino, eyes tipped downward at the book ahead of him on the table. He was interrupted just moments later as someone dropped into the chair across from him.

Now, Steve wasn’t intentionally hiding out at this hole-in-the-wall cafe. But he did put on his laughable disguise still - a beaten up Yankees cap and his prescription-less thick framed glasses. He liked the anonymity. That didn’t always stop people from recognizing him.

As he opened his mouth to question the person who was suddenly joining him for coffee, she slid her phone across the table to him. Her hand shook. His eyebrows flexed into a curious frown as he looked at the screen displaying a plainly typed note:

‘Do you mind if I sit someone is following me home sorry to disturb you’

—

As if your day hadn’t been absolutely terrible enough, you spotted the gremlin of a man on the subway watching you again. You knew he worked somewhere in the same office building as you because he always trailed a few paces behind you when pushing through the revolving doors in the lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to see the same people on the same subway line at the same time every day, but this man’s presence had become an unwanted downside.

He was always there. Worse than that, he seemed to be always watching you. Today, it was even more obvious that he was following you.

When that thought first occurred to you, it had been really easy to shrug off. He was just a guy taking the subway. But when he happened to be on the later train with you one day, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

And now, as the car was filling up even more after the second stop in DUMBO, he had moved to stand and put himself even closer to you.

You had been going through so many Next Steps. God, that phrase was the bane of your existence. Next steps, next steps..

Maybe you could tell him to fuck off. You could make an appointment with Leanna in HR and see if there is a way to figure out the name of this guy - though he didn’t work for your company so that was likely going to be a dead end. You could start taking the bus to the village before grabbing the train. Maybe you could Uber home some days instead of taking the subway. Not that you could afford that but this guy was..

You stiffened immediately.

This guy was touching you. In the midst of the crowded subway car, he was pressed against you entirely. And was he.. His hips were moving against your leg and.. Wait, that was two hands on your hips now.. Hot breath whispered against your neck and -

Fuck.

You threw yourself through the mob as the train came to a stop. With hurried feet you ran onto the platform and up the stairs, doing your best to weave through the flow of people, like a fish trying to make it upstream. You tried not to be obvious but as you snapped your head over your shoulders to look back, you saw him there again.

He was smirking. No, snarling.

Next steps, next steps.

You joined a sea of people crossing the street, taking your first left to try and steer yourself into a particular direction. You were still a far walk from your apartment but with this man on your heels, you didn’t want to lead him anywhere near there.

You grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket, unlocking it quickly and scrolling through the contacts. Surely there had to be someone you could call but even then, what could they do? Offer advice?

It didn’t occur to you until then but would it be valuable to call the cops?

Despite the late day sunlight, you suddenly felt very aware of the emptiness of the sidewalk on that side street. You needed to be around people. It definitely wasn’t logical to be anywhere near alone with this guy and -

It sounded like his footsteps were getting closer. With a panicked gulp, you yanked on the door of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. Your eyes scanned the space quickly once you were inside. You probably shouldn’t sit alone, you couldn’t run to the bathroom if you aren’t sure where it is or if you needed a key. There were too many variables.

You needed something. Next steps..

You spotted someone sitting at a small table near the window and without thinking, you sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening and you rushed over. The man was clearly alone, a half consumed ceramic mug of coffee sitting to the right of his book.

Swallowing hard, you quickly typed on your phone and slid it across the table to him after you sat. You tried your best to stay very calm and hoped that he would play along. God, what if he didn’t play along and -

Behind you, the door chimed once more and you desperately wanted to see if it was that man - if the gremlin had followed you inside. You clasped your hands together in your lap and forced a smile on as you looked at the stranger sitting across from you.

Despite not knowing him, there was a familiarity about his appearance. Behind his thick glasses, soft blue eyes searched you carefully. His eyes flicked to the screen once more, stiffening in his chair as he looked past you towards the rest of the cafe.

With his right hand, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled something quickly and turned the page towards you.

Are you hurt?

You shook your head quickly. He offered you a tight smile and wrote once more.

Buzzcut, grey jacket?

Your eyes blew open wide and you tilted your head into a nod.

I’m Steve

He flipped the notebook closed and extended his hand across the table, palm facing up. He leaned forward just slightly, meeting your eyes with a reassuring smile. “Play along.”

Your eyes flicked to his hand and you slowly unclamped your own, grabbing his on the table instead. He was doing an impressive job splitting his attention between you and his surroundings, eyes scanning the room. He squeezed your hand very gently, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Tell me about your day.”

You sucked in a hard breath. You weren’t entirely sure what his strategy was but something told you this guy was in your corner. Though despite that, you could feel another set of eyes on you.

“Uh,” you started quietly, letting the air escape your lungs. “Surprisingly, I didn’t think it could get worse before I got on the subway after work. I had a review meeting that was not great and we had a free catered lunch that was not vegetarian friendly. Missed an important email and deadline and… well, here I am whining about it and interrupting your day. Listen, I’m going to-

You moved to stand up but Steve shook his head, grasping your hand. “Give it a few more minutes, I think he’ll give up and leave.”

His words were casual but had an authoritative tone. Once more his eyes left you, looking towards the front of the cafe. He raised his free hand and motioned to one of the baristas. You weren’t certain if this was the type of place who served people at their seats but clearly he had a comfortable rapport as the young girl approached with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Tia, could I get another?”

“Anything for you?” The barista turned her head as she asked, pony tail moving from side to side.

“Uhm.” You paused and thought. You certainly had no desire to even consider a coffee order when you felt someone’s linger gaze boring into you. “A decaf con panna, if that’s possible.” The girl confirmed it was with a nod then left the table side.

“Con panna?” Steve’s lips pulled into a curious smirk. Something about his smile calmed you.

“Espresso with whipped cream on top,” you answered. “Short and sweet.”

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

Steve sure had a soothing smile. When his thumb stopped tracing against your palm - when did that even start? - you felt an empty sadness about the loss. Wow, what did that even say about your standards when a stranger was brushing his thumb against your hand that you were so grateful for? Well, it was a thousand times better than someone rubbing his -

You winced at the memory, biting down as you clutched your bottom lip between your teeth. Though that shameful feeling hadn’t disappeared, you managed to keep it at bay. But now, it seemed to have left an image you were unable to blink away.

The sweet smell of whipped cream and the shuffling of paper cups broke you from your trance. You reached for your bag to fish out a few dollars but when you looked up, Steve was waving a hand to stop you.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate his kindness. You did. You really, really did. But given the last half hour, you still had a hard time settling your nervous mind.

“Thanks, Tia.” Steve’s eyes were jumping around the place as the barista grabbed the cash he offered. A loud stomp of footsteps drew their attention as the Subway Gremlin saddled up beside the table.

“Sorry to be a bother, darlin’ - any chance I can borrow your phone?”

You couldn’t help but look at him. Though his words were directed at the barista, he made a point to glance over at you.

You felt Steve’s hands grip yours. When you looked towards him, his eyes were very carefully watching the man. How did he manage to -

“Sorry, we don’t have a dedicated line available to customers.” Tia politely shook her head, pointing towards the door. “There’s a CityBank up the street that can help you, I’m sure.” She shrugged and headed back to the coffee counter.

The man stood still, opening his mouth to argue.

Steve sat back, shoulders broad and steady. “Did you need directions there? I think it’s just two blocks. Maybe 500 paces.” His tone was flat. “Just out the door and you’ll be on your way.”

You kept your eyes on Steve. He kept his stare directed at the man. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the man moved his feet. He turned on his heel, though not before stopping to look at you again.

“I will see you tomorrow, dar-

Steve released your hand and pushed his chair back, standing quickly and grasping the man’s shoulder.

Steve towered over him. “You have five seconds.” The man pulled away from Steve’s grip then finally stomped away. You kept your eyes tightly shut until you heard the chime of the bell indicating the movement of the door. Then, you collapsed onto your arms on the edge of the table.

Steve, meanwhile, headed to the door and kept watch for a few more moments to ensure the man actually departed from the area. Then, he stopped at the counter and exchanged a few words with Tia before returning you.

You were still doing your best to encourage the floor to open up and swallow you whole. How had this even escalated? The worst part was your mind seemed clouded with doubt. This man, you hadn’t even interacted with him before. Why was he suddenly so invested in you? To a point where he might follow you home? Were you just another target or had this been intentional?

You considered yourself a fairly observant person and yet..

You twisted your hands together in your lap and tried to consider what was going to happen now. Next steps, next steps..

“Hey.” Steve returned to his chair. Your eyes flicked up towards him, noticing he was sliding a bottle of water towards you. Your sad little espresso and whipped cream treat was deflated next to it. “Are you okay?”

You reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink. “I don’t know.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No, actually. I’m not. It somehow feels like my skin is on fire and my lungs are failing me and I’m sweaty but I’m not and - and -

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Steve spoke so calmly and evenly. “Just take a slow breath with me, okay?” You closed your eyes once more and followed his instructions as he walked you through a few breathing exercises. “That’s great, you’re doing great-

When he stopped speaking so quickly, you opened one eye to look over at him. His cheeks were a warm shade of pink and his mouth was twisted into a frown. “What?”

“It just occurred to me I didn’t get your name.” He paused, as if to consider his next thought. “Although, given what just happened with that man, you are under no obligation to tell me anything about yourself. I just.. I’d like to help.”

His genuine concern for you was surprising. You allowed a small smile to stretch across your face. “You’re very nice, Steve.”

You gave him your name and he smiled back, repeating it to himself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your smile turned downwards when you looked towards your phone. “I should probably get going. Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this mess but I appreciate the… solace.” You took a deep breath and pushed your chair back, pausing to tip the lukewarm espresso into your mouth. “I owe you one.”

You winced when you heard yourself and sighed. Why did you say that? This stranger, this friendly, broad shouldered, tall, handsome stranger who’s day you interrupted, did not need your weird backhanded flirting. In fact, even though every signal in your brain seemed on edge after, well, everything, the only thing that seemed to ground you now was the kindness of Steve. So you tried to will yourself not to ruin it with any additional commentary.

You weren’t entirely sure what had driven you down this particular street into this particular cafe and towards this particular man. But, you were certainly grateful. “Actually, do they have gift cards here? I’d love to buy you one to say thank you and -

“Are you going to walk? Wherever you’re going right now?” When you looked over, you saw that Steve had stood, too. You saw his eyes move towards the door and the far windows up the street where the man from the subway had gone. “I don’t want to overstep but I hope you’ll let me walk you home. Or far enough away to have cleared his radar.”

“I feel like I’ve already wasted enough of your time, Steve.” You truly felt worse and worse for interrupting his afternoon.

“Please, I insist.” Steve tilted his head, half a smirk on his lips. “You just said you owe me one, so. I’m cashing in the favour.”

“The favour repayment you’re cashing in is.. you doing me another favour? Do you know how favours are supposed to work?” Admittedly, you knew you would feel a lot safer having someone walk home with you. And something about Steve made you feel very secure, his presence like a comforting shield.

“C’mon,” Steve replied with a laugh, nudging his head towards the door.

When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you stopped to think. “Let’s go this way.” You turned to the right and Steve followed, staying on your shoulder closest to the street. You walked in a comfortable silence - which made you nervous at first. Then, as your steps fell into a pattern, the quiet soothed you.

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you turned down the next block. You looked over at Steve, who turned his head towards you as you shifted. “You didn’t ask anything else about the man.. Who followed me.”

A quiet hum came from Steve. “I didn’t think I should. You seemed shaken up enough.” He shrugged, peering down at you through his glasses. “If you want to talk about it..”

“I work in this big office building in Midtown. The Clifton building?”

Steve motioned his hand diagonally. “Little bagel place downstairs? That’s right down from The Avengers tower, isn’t it?”

You nodded along. Right. Stark Tower was The Avengers Tower, now. It was the most iconic landmark on that block. “Yes. Actually, I work on the 40th floor, which makes for a great angle to see Iron Man coming in.” Your smile was fleeting when you continued on. “It’s a huge building. I work in human resources for this pharmaceutical company.. But there’s a law firm in there, too. Insurance companies, start ups.. Hundreds of people in and out all day long. Yet, that man on the subway has managed to..” You stopped yourself before your chest got too tight. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around before.”

“Do you know his name?”

“That’s the thing!” You couldn’t help but laugh now, shaking your head in dumbfounded confusion. “No. I have no idea who he is. But he often gets on the same subway line as me, watches me from across the crowd then today..” You stopped and dragged a hand down your face. “It’s a sad truth but I would say most of my friends have been.. Touched inappropriately on the subway before. I guess it’s a weird right of passage or something..”

“Wait - what?” Steve stopped in his tracks and reached his hand out to grab yours. You stopped and looked up at his eyes, somehow both soft and dark with concern. “He touched you? What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if his ask was authentic. When you saw the disappointment in his face, eyes flooded with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you realized his reaction was genuine. You opened your mouth to explain but suddenly it seemed impossible to find the words.

Steve let go of your hand as he absorbed your lack of response and reached for his phone. “You can file a police report, right?”

“No, no.” You stopped him, placing your hand on his as he held his phone. “Trust me, that’s just paperwork that goes nowhere. Without the guy's name, absolutely nothing would come from it anyway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, really. I might just adjust my work hours and change my route home for a few weeks. Maybe he’ll give up.”

Steve muttered something to himself, shaking his head. His face shifted from concern to something else, like his brain was working on a different trail of thoughts. He spoke your name quietly, drawing your attention to him again. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Steve’s kindness was a strange contrast to the entire experience on the subway. How one man could have such questionable intentions while another apologizes with sincerity for it was nearly jarring. Although, it did suddenly occur to you that Steve was just as much of a stranger.

“The worst part is.. men like that sever any opportunity for trust in other people. Especially blind trust. Like me telling you, a stranger, where I work and walking you to where I live. Funny enough though - every wire in my brain should be telling me not to and how it was a bad idea but.. I guess there is something about you.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he considered his response. “When you walked into the coffee shop, you could have asked the barista for help or tried to hide out in the bathroom. But you sat next to me instead. How come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, there's just something about you, Steve.”

You walked in silence again, feet falling into a pattern once more. The sky was growing darker, the air cooler. After crossing the street again, you looked at him. “How do you feel about Prezio being traded to the Orioles?” You reached out and tipped up the brim of his Yankees hat. “A tragedy, right?”

A quiet laugh escaped him as he tipped his head. “I think it was a huge mistake. Don’t you think we’ve had a hard enough year as it is?” Your silence was filled with baseball talk instead and it seemed to put both of you at ease.

“This is me.” You stopped outside of a short apartment complex, pointing a thumb to the door.

Steve smiled, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he studied you. Was this it? After the wild rollercoaster of emotions you had spilled onto him in the last hour, parting with nothing else seemed empty. Lacking. He opened his mouth and closed it, once then twice.

Finally, you cut in. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. If you hadn’t played along and scared him away.. well, I’m not sure where I would be right now. It means a lot that you cared enough about a stranger to make sure I was safe.”

Steve sighed out your name. “I’m sorry your barometer for kindness is so low.”

You sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Part of you wanted to do something. Say something else. Linger a tiny bit longer. But your feet shuffled and your hand reached for the door. “Have a good night, Steve.”

—

“I need a favour.”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine. Did you lock yourself out of your computer again? FRIDAY can help with that.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. I recognize that scowl. How can I help you?”

“If I provided you some video footage from a security camera, can we track someone down? Figure out who they are? For full transparency, it’s just a civilian.”

“Sounds like we’re operating outside of the law, Rogers. Can you provide me with more context? I don’t mind the grey area - I just like the drama, too.”

Steve sighed, then reluctantly explained himself. The cafe. Your panicked message. The stalker of a man. The way you dismissed it all as a normal, unfortunate side effect of existing as a woman. His barista friend provided him with camera footage but he wasn’t sure it was enough.

Tony pinched between his eyes. “Men are scum. And I say that as someone in the practice of trying to be better. Recovering scum, if you will. I’ll see what I can do. FRIDAY, how quietly can we get into the security database at the Clifton building?”

—

Although you hadn’t lied to Steve, it occurred to you on your journey home that your guard should remain up. Which is why you had actually allowed him to walk you to your aunt’s apartment, instead of your own. She was happy to see you burst through the door and insisted you stay for dinner. That was a tiny silver lining to the whole mess.

The next day though, the thought of going into work was suffocating. So you opted to spend the day working from home instead, which your boss had been agreeable to, at least. One day rolled into two and you successfully avoided the office building until the following Monday. But then, you needed a plan. Next steps, next steps.

You took an Uber to the office early and left late at the end of the day, leaving out the back stairway and crossing a few blocks to take a different subway line home. It was unfortunate you had to cater your life to the chance you would run into this goon again, but your sense of security was slowly returning. That had to count for something.

Things shifted later that week. There was a sudden new policy sent out to all the staff in your office outlining new building ownership and training about sexual harassment policies.

“It’s a long time coming,” you heard someone mutter out in the elevator as you headed down towards the lobby.

“Guess Tony Stark just wants to own the whole block,” their coworker chirped back, pulling to loosen his tie.

There was even more commotion when you exited the elevator and walked towards the large glass doors. A team of NYPD officers were standing outside, shoving someone in the back of their cruiser. Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t be certain but from that angle, you certainly recognized the bad buzzcut. Your eyes darted around the lobby anxiously and across the room, a small crowd of suits and officers had formed near..

Tony Stark, himself.

Before you could even try to understand what was going on, you heard someone calling your name. You turned your head and saw someone who looked a lot like -

“Steve?” You took a few steps towards him, pausing to glance from him back at Tony Stark and.. “Oh my god. You’re Steve Rogers. Why didn’t you say something?”

Captain America had walked you home. Hidden behind glasses and a hat. And you always considered yourself observant.

Steve just smirked, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Should I be thanking you for all of this chaos?”

Steve furrowed his brow in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m extrapolating here but the same day my subway stalker gets taken away in cuffs, Stark Industries buys out this building and mandates a new policy and code of conduct.”

Steve pursed his lips, swallowing back a mischievous smirk. “Here’s the thing. It occurred to me that your best choice of action after that day was changing your entire life to avoid that man. And I couldn’t help but think about how broken that system was.”

You sighed. It had occurred to you, too. While you were relieved to shake the man from your trail, your mind considered he would probably turn his attention to someone else. And that wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, Cap. Job well done. That scum of a man had priors in Jersey, too.” Tony Stark himself had walked to where you and Steve stood. His hand clapped on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re at least going to ask her out, right? I mean, I bought an entire building for you - make a move, pal.”

Steve flushed pink and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’m getting a bagel. You want a bagel?” Tony raised an eyebrow from you to Steve again, smiling proudly.

“I’m good. I recommend the poppy seed though!” You called as Tony flitted away, narrowly avoiding a proper looking blonde woman who seemed very tired.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “He seems like a lot.”

“He is.” Steve nodded, motioning his hand. “I know it’s only one thing, maybe a ripple in making a difference but.. I’m hoping one less inappropriate person on the subway can give you peace of mind.”

You smiled again. Though you had seen many appearances by Captain America on the news, seeing the man in person was different. It seemed Steve Rogers walked the walk. After parting ways with him before, though he had crossed your mind, you didn’t anticipate your menial issues leading to this.

“Thanks. Really. Even one person makes a difference.” You reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you, Steve.”

“I’m sorry about Tony, though. His comments about asking you out and.. that certainly wasn’t my goal here.”

“I don’t know. You just did me a huge favour getting rid of that gremlin. I think I owe you.”

Steve caught your cheeky smile and stood up a bit straighter. “Well, in that case, the Yankees are playing the Sox tomorrow night. Tony never uses his tickets and the seats aren’t half bad. What do you say?”

“You’re cashing in this favour to take me on a date? Usually people ask for help moving or a ride to the airport or something.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure. I guess you can take me to the game, Steve. If you ask politely, I’ll probably even hold your hand.”

After work the next day, Steve met you outside and you took the subway together to the stadium. You knew this wasn’t the end of it for you or anyone else worried about their personal boundaries being crossed. But, as you gripped the subway pole and your fingers grazed against Steve’s, you could finally breathe again. For the first time in a while, you weren’t anticipating next steps.

It was just you and the kind stranger from the coffee shop.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #reader fanfiction #idk yall #simmerandcry #simmer writes

[bellakitse]

Making friends in Life or Death situations

“No,” Nancy shakes her head quickly, tightening her hold on his face so he can focus on her. “You have to stay awake,” she continues, her voice cracking as fear grips her again. This is her friend, sure they don’t know each other that well, but Carlos is nice and sweet and the love of her partner’s life. He’s her friend, damn it, and she’s not going to lose him, not after losing Tim. “Please, stay awake.”

+

Carlos and Nancy are trapped together after a tornado hits the pharmacy they are in.

Written for @911lonestarweek - Day 2: Emergencies/“Please, stay awake.”/Angst

Nancy Gillian walks into the Walgreens just as her phone rings out another tornado warning. 

“Dear, we’re closing early, in 15 mins,” an older woman behind the counter says to her with a quick smile. “Because of the tornados.”

Nancy gives the woman a nod of acknowledgment and quickly makes her way down to the pet aisle. She wouldn’t even be out if it wasn’t for the fact that she realized she was down to her last can of cat food and with no time to make a Costco run for her new tabby. Looking through the limited selection, she picks a few of the chicken options, dropping them into her basket, and heads for the junk food aisle. Just some salt and vinegar Pringles to go with the leftover Easter chocolates she has back at her apartment, and she can head home and ride out the bad weather.

Turning the corner without looking in her rush to finish her shopping, she bumps face-first into a solid chest, bouncing right off it. She feels herself fall back and closes her eyes, bracing for the pain falling will cause, but it never comes. Instead, strong hands grab hold of her waist, keeping her upright.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry – Nancy?”

Nancy opens her eyes at the sound of her name, finding familiar brown eyes looking at her with concern.

“Officer Reyes!” she squeaks out, blushing when he raises an eyebrow at her. “I mean, Carlos – hi!”

Carlos gives her a friendly smile in return. “Hello, Nancy.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes quickly, gesturing around them. “I was in a rush to get what I need before the tornados touch down and wasn’t looking.”

“Same,” Carlos says with a laugh. “TK sent me to get what we need to ride it out before we are eventually called into work when it’s over.”

Nancy peeks into his basket, her eyebrows going up when she finds condoms, lubricant, and ice cream in it. “The essentials for sure,” she says dryly, biting back a smirk when she sees him blush and start to stammer in response. “Relax, officer,” she continues, feeling bad for how red he’s turned. “We all know how nauseatingly in love you and my partner are. This is not shocking.”

“Maybe not shocking, but embarrassing for sure,” Carlos grumbles back, scowling at her when she lets out a snort.

She grins at him, pleased when he gives her a reluctant smile back. She doesn’t know Carlos all that well. She’s been to his place a handful of times now that TK has made it a point to invite her when the rest of the 126 meets up at their apartment. But Carlos is usually in the kitchen making sure everyone is well-fed, and afterwards, he seems to enjoy sitting back and watch their brassier friends interact. She understands the instinct, feeling they’re a lot alike, which is why she can’t help but feel comfortable around him even though they’re not super familiar with each other.

She opens her mouth to tease him some more when a piercing siren rings out and the lights in the establishment flicker seconds before the whole place starts to shake.

“Shit,” Carlos curses, already on the move as he drops his basket and takes her arm, moving her further back.

“The cashier – “ she starts to say, only for her voice to get lost under the howling winds. It’s so loud; it sounds like a freight train barreling straight for them. She blinks, once, maybe twice, less than a second of time, but it’s all that’s needed for the front of the place to disappear under collapsing walls and ceiling.

She feels strong arms go around her waist, and the next thing she knows, she’s rolling across a hard surface and landing on the floor. Carlos covers her as best he can with his body, trying to make them as small as possible as they cower under the counter desk of the pharmacy section of the Walgreens. She can’t hear much past the whirling winds and her racing heart, but somewhere in there, she hears a hard grunt. She looks up at Carlos, still hovering over her, doing his best to protect her, but she sees pain clouding his expression.

“Are you okay?” she shouts, worry spiking her pulse as she sees a trail of blood rolling down the side of his face.

“Something hit me in the head and my back,” he grits out as the winds begin to calm down. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine; you’re bleeding,” she points out, not sure if he’s noticed yet. Given the way his eyes widen when he touches his hairline, she doesn’t think he has. She goes to say more when the walls around them let out a loud groan followed by a series of bangs as more of the place falls down around them.

She closes her eyes, tucking her face into Carlos’ shoulder.

Carlos pulls her closer to him in return, and she’s thankful for the kindness as she hides in his frame. If this is the end, she realizes she doesn’t actually want to see it.

A few minutes pass like this as she waits for it to end, be it the disaster or her life, she’s not really sure, but slowly the howling lessens until it’s only a dull echo in her ears.

“Nance – it’s stopping,” Carlos says softly, giving her a slight shake, bringing her back to the present.

Slowly she pulls back, surprised she can still see, realizing that somehow the lights have managed to stay on, flickering, but on. She looks at Carlos to find him giving her a concerned look.

“Well,” she starts to say, licking her lips nervously. “That was terrifying.”

Carlos lets out a chuckle that quickly turns into a hiss.

“What, what is it?” she asks quickly as she watches his face go slightly grey.

“I – I think,” he stops, closing his eyes but not fast enough to hide the pain from her. “I think something is in my back?”

“What?” she squeaks out. She moves to her knees, her hands hovering over Carlos’ shoulders as he sits down on the floor with a heavy sigh. Going around him, she starts to probe him, stopping short when she feels something hard and jagged by the right side of his flank. She swallows a gasp as she realizes what it is.

“How bad?” he questions, his voice tight as the obvious pain starts to set in.

“It’s – it’s glass,” Nancy whispers with dread as she notices the patch of blood on his shirt is growing.

Carlos lets out a weary sigh. “Of course it is,” he mutters dryly. “TK is going to be so pissed.”

Nancy ignores his comment, starting to get up from under the desk counter. “Okay, we need to get you out of here,” she says, just for Carlos to let out a chuckle.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m pretty sure the front of this place collapsed, trapping us back here,” Carlos says far more calmly than she feels the moment merits. “We are lucky the walls dividing the back of the pharmacy and the front held up – protecting us.”

Nancy looks through the counter’s window, where she would usually wait for her prescriptions to be filled, and realizes he’s right. Carlos pushing them behind the counter saved them, but now the whole front is a maze of rubble with no apparent way out.

“Fuck me,” she swears, feeling the frustration and panic build inside her. She lets it for a second before pushing it aside. She’s a trained paramedic, and right now, her main priority is making sure she stops Carlos’ from bleeding out. She looks behind her, letting out a relieved breath to see that the space they are in is relatively sound. If she’s going to be trapped with an injured person needing her care, there are worse places to be than a fully stocked pharmacy.

“Check your phone, Carlos,” she says to him, already on the move. “I’m going to get supplies to care for your injuries.”

She gets a grunt back from Carlos and takes it as an okay as she steps over the mess of pills and supplies on the floor and thanks whatever higher power might be watching over them when she finds bandages, alcohol, and even a pair of scissors in her search. She makes her way back to Carlos to find him hunched over, his expression dazed as he stares at his phone.

“Carlos?” she questions, repeating his name louder when he doesn’t answer right away. He blinks in her direction, and she can see he’s not all there with her. She ignores the trickle of fear that runs up her spine as a result. “Did you get through to anyone?”

Carlos shakes his head slowly. “The lines – they’re not – “

“Okay, that’s okay,” she rushes to reassure him as she comes to sit in front of him. She takes ahold of his face, feeling the tackiness of the drying blood on his head. Two injuries then, she makes a note. “We’ll try again after I bandage you up, okay?”

“I’m tired, Nance,” Carlos answers, his speech becoming slurred, and Nancy adds likely concussion to the list. “My side hurts, and my head.”

“I know, hon,” she answers with what she hopes is a comforting tone. “But I’m going to fix it, okay?”

Carlos blinks at her slowly. “Sleep.”

“No,” Nancy shakes her head quickly, tightening her hold on his face so he can focus on her. “You have to stay awake,” she continues, her voice cracking as fear grips her again. This is her friend, sure they don’t know each other that well, but Carlos is nice and sweet and the love of her partner’s life. He’s her friend, damn it, and she’s not going to lose him, not after losing Tim. “Please, stay awake.”

Carlos looks at her with wide eyes before slowly reaching up to touch her face, startling her as she realizes that it’s wet from tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “Don’t cry, Nance.”

“Then stay awake,” she answers back, letting out a shaky smile when he gives her a solemn nod in return with an ‘I promise.’

“Okay,” she says softly, letting go of his face to turn to his back. “I’m going to clean and pack the wound. We can’t take the glass out because you’ll probably bleed more, but we can secure it.”

“Okay,” Carlos answers, giving her permission.

“Sorry about your shirt,” she says quickly as she starts to cut it up the middle.

Carlos lets out a hiss as she pours the rubbing alcohol over the wound. It’s thankfully not as big as she initially thought, but she winces when Carlos lets out a shout as she starts to press the gauzes around it. She tries to think of a way to distract him from the pain, letting out a quick breath when it comes to her. “Talk to me about TK,” she instructs him, hoping it will achieve the goal.

“TK?” Carlos questions sluggishly.

“Yeah, tell me about him, about the two of you,” she says as she rolls out more bandages.

Carlos lets out a sigh. It has the same sappy sound that she hears when TK talks about Carlos or is on the phone with him. “I just love him so much,” he answers, and even though she can’t see his face, she knows he’s smiling through the pain. “He’s beautiful and kind, silly and sweet, and when he looks at me the way he does, I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I’m so lucky he loves me back.”

Nancy smiles at the comment; she’s heard TK say the same exact thing. She tells Carlos as she makes a quick finish of securing his wound before moving to face him and deal with his head injury.

“He has?” Carlos questions her with a boyish grin, looking loopier, his eyes heavy. “That’s good. I bought him a ring; now I just have to work up the nerve to ask him to marry me.”

Nancy stares at Carlos for a moment, sure that he wouldn’t have revealed that if he was in all his five senses.

“Are you sure I can’t sleep?” he questions quietly, swaying towards her.

Nancy shakes her head at him, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Not when she can see that his eyes are rolling back, and she has just enough time to keep his face from meeting the floor as he slumps forward.

“Carlos!”

 ֎֎֎

 Nancy has grown to hate the sounds and smells of hospitals. She thinks she’s lucky to not be a doctor or a nurse and not have to be in one every day, but she’s still in them enough because the people she cares about are danger magnets, and she hates it.

They get rescued not long after Carlos has passed out, but it still feels like eons to her. She rides in the ambulance with him, ignoring the paramedics that want to look her over in favor of holding Carlos’ hand. She doesn’t let go until she absolutely has to in order to allow the doctors to work, and she doesn’t break down until she sees TK walk through the hospital doors with a panic-stricken look on his face.

She cries on his shoulder, feeling horrible that he’s comforting her when it’s his boyfriend who is hurt. Fresh tears spring up when he hugs her tight, thanking her for saving the man he loves, and even though he tells her to go home, she waits until Carlos opens his eyes again.

She doesn’t have a home anyway; her neighbor left a message telling her the tornados destroyed her place, luckily he managed to get her cat out, watching over her until she can get back.

She sits in one of the uncomfortable but familiar chairs as the 126 and Carlos’ parents come and go in the later hours, all the while she remains next to TK as they wait for Carlos to wake up. It’s late at night, and TK has fallen asleep next to her when Carlos finally opens his eyes, and Nancy springs forward, rushing to his side, holding her breath as he slowly blinks to consciousness.

“Nancy,” he gets out roughly, and Nancy feels her eyes sting in return. “Are you okay?”

“You said you’d stay awake,” she accuses him as the tears roll down her face. “You promised.”

Carlos looks like he’s in pain, but it doesn’t stop him from giving her a kind look. He reaches out to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I did. I’m sorry, Nancy.”

“You can keep calling me Nance,” she whispers, squeezing his hand back. “We’re friends now.”

Carlos smiles at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Very cool,” he says softly before looking past her at his sleeping boyfriend. “Is he okay?”

Nancy nods, giving TK a soft look of her own over her shoulder. “He’s strong, and he knew you were going to be just fine,” she says with a smile. “Let me wake him up.”

She starts to turn, only to be stopped when Carlos holds on to her hand. “What I told you – “ he begins, looking at her with those big brown eyes of his that endears him to everyone who meets him, herself included.

“I’m not going to ruin your surprise,” she assures him, chuckling when he lets out a breath.

“Thanks, Nance,” Carlos says, smiling once more.

Nancy returns it kindly. “Hey, what are friends for.”

#911 lone star #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021 #tarlos fic #because they are still mention #even though this is a Nancy and Carlos friendship fic first #911 lone star fic #my writing

[elizabethsharmon]

So. Poland has chosen its "president" yesterday - if we can even talk about real choice here when he won by approximately 422k votes. When he won in 6 out of 16 regions, all of them with significantly lower number of eligible voters. When there are huge discrepancies between the results displayed in each polling district and the ones published on the website of the National Electoral Commission. When there were recurring instances of some voting cards not having the necessary stamps which automatically classified the vote as invalid. When some people went to vote and it turned out they're not registered in their designated district because of system error. When people abroad didn't get their voting cards on time. When his party sent over 150 buses to villages in Eastern Poland to take older, conservative people to voting stations. When this is how the results map looks like - and somehow the blue wins with orange.

In the last five years, Du*a and his party PiS (literally lAw AnD jUsTiCe but believe me, they're none of these things) have completely ruined the country and regressed it to Middle Ages.The democracy practically doesn't exist anymore, not since they have the majority to rule (the opposition won the senate back in the parliamentary elections so it's a small win but it's still not enough). They started with the judicial system, appointing conservative judges who are always ruling in their favour. The courts are not independent anymore. The Constitution is being broken over and over and over again. People have been marching and protesting for years now but to no avail. 

The national television, TVP, is practically owned by the ruling party. The propaganda, fake news, hatred on the opposition and minorities is getting stronger each day. What you need to know is that this is literally the first channel on every TV set in the country. No matter where you live, no matter if you have cable or satellite, you turn on TV and TVP is what you get. Their reach is so much higher than other TV stations from the big four (TVP1&TVP2, TVN, Polsat). Poland has fallen to 62nd out of 180 countries in the World Press Freedom Index compiled annually by Reporters Without Borders. Before PiS took over in 2015 we were 18th. For du*a's presidential campaign now they gave TVP 2 billion PLN in order to strengthen the propaganda. There was a project to give those money to hospital oncology wards but PiS said no. TVP has only been showing him during the campaign. The other candidates have either been showed in a bad light or haven't been showed at all. Voters for whom TVP is the only source of information haven't seen other candidates nor their campaigns.

During the second round of the campaign, when another tv station, TVN, with two major Polish online media, Onet and WP, invited him and his opponent, Rafał Trzaskowski, for a debate. Du*a declined because he said he won't participate in a debate which isn't available for everyone and he asked them to reach an agreement with TVP to host the debate together. In the end there were two debates. Du*a on his own in TVP, answering predetermined questions from journalists reporting to his party and people in the studio that were paid to be there. Trzaskowski on his own in TVN and live on his Facebook channel, answering questions from the journalists from 16 independent offline and online media teams.

At the beginning of his and PiS first term of destroying the country, they started their crusade against women, because as we all know middle aged men are the most eligible people to make choices for women and their bodies. Abortion is Poland is (was? honestly who knows now) only allowed in three cases: if the woman's life was in danger, if the prenatal testing indicates severe damage of the fetus, if the pregnancy was the outcome of rape. With their pro life and anti women initiative, PiS was determined to ban abortion completely and punish it by prison. The bill was so flimsy that in some cases even miscarriage could be turned against woman. Even if the baby would've been born sick or severely disabled, even if the pregnancy could be fatal for the mother, even if it was caused by rape. We went on the streets. All dressed in black, with umbrellas in hand. Hundreds of thousands of women and allies marching and protesting together against the government. And they got scared. The bill proposal was dropped but the fight wasn't over and it still isn't. They tried to bring it back now during the pandemic just because they knew we wouldn't go out protesting. But we did, we blocked the streets with our cars.

The day after pill can only be bought on prescription. But if you end up going to the conservative ob/gyn they can invoke conscientious objection to abortion and they won't prescribe it for you. They want to ban sex ed from schools. In their opinion sex ed “demoralizes children and teaches them masturbation.” They want young people to be uneducated and have sex and get pregnant and give birth. They want to make kids have kids just so they would depend on the government and social wage programme 500+ which gives 500PLN (approximately 125€) each month to families with 2 or more children for each of their children. Right now you can be a woman raising your three or four kids and you will get the equivalent of minimum wage just for that. This program made people vote for them in 2015. First Du*a used it in his presidential campaign, then PiS was blackmailing the voters saying the program will only happen if both president and the government will be on board aka they have to get in so Du*a will sign the bill and people will get the money. People still believe only they can ensure the stability of the program even though almost all the other candidates said it will not go away.

In the last couple of weeks of presidential campaign, it became more clear than ever how Du*a is planning to win the elections - by trying to reach to the mindsets of elderly and conservative voters by attacking the LGBT community. He called us “ideological hurricane”. He said we are worse than communists. His party members have been saying we're not humans. He was saying over and over again how he doesn't care what people do in bed as long as they're not obnoxious on street and in real life about it. How sexuality is a private thing and we shouldn't be proud of it. How there's no place in Poland for “LGBT propaganda that wants to demoralize our children”. How there's no space here for unions for same-sex couples, not even mentioning marriage or adoption. How he'll do everything in his power to protect the “traditional Polish values and family model” (whatever that means). The most conservative parts of the eastern Poland has claimed their towns and villages as “anti-LGBT zone”. It's been going on since last year. After Dua's words now the hate crime is stronger than it ever was. When LGBT activists asked him to apologize for his spiteful words, showed him proofs that suicide rate among LGBT teenagers is higher than it was since his party is ruling, showed him the photographs and shared the stories of the people we lost because of the bashing they encourage and support, he said he won't apologize because he stands by his words and there's a freedom of speech in the country. Not for everyone I guess.

The journalists have been interviewing many people in different parts of Poland after it. What stuck with me were the words of some old man from the countryside who has said that “LGBT should be exterminated in Majdanek”. It's one of the places where the death camp was during World War 2. I don't think I have to tell anyone what words like this mean, how much they hurt, and how much worse it is when they’re said in the country that’s lost so so many lives during WW2. In a country that fought so hard for so many years to reclaim its freedom from the nazis and then from the soviets. In the meantime of this bashing, Du*a has pardoned a pedophile so he could return to his family (and the victim he abused). So that would be it for protecting family values.

The exit polls results yesterday were so close that they gave us so much hope that we would wake up in a new reality today but the hope died quickly. Now we're stuck again with a man who said in the middle of the global pandemic that he's anti-vaccination and he doesn't think vaccine for covid-19 should be obligatory. With a man who thinks climate change and global warming isn't real. With a man whose actions are constantly destabilitizing economy because he only acts like there is today and doesn’t look forward in the future and doesn’t know the way he and his party ruin the country will have terrible consequences in a few years. With a man who is homophobic, racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, and many, many, many other things. With a man who is a "president” of Polish people but only if you're a straight catholic man voting for his party.

Now our fear is that with him being “elected” as the “president” again, his party will try to meddle with the Constitution and try to change it so they could either extend his term for more years or extend the number of terms a president can have. And even if the change can’t happen so easily, what’s sure is that they will try to take away basic human rights from women and LGBT community. They made it perfectly clear in the last five years and during the campaign now.

So if you’re asking yourself now what can you do about it the answer is simple: spread the word. Read about it. Educate yourself. Make a buzz in the social media. We need as much help as we can get. We need foreign media to pick up the topic, we need them to talk about it and to make the noise. We need the foreign governments to know about it. European Union has already declared that if the bashing on LGBT continues, they will take away the development aid from the self-proclaimed “anti-LGBT zones”. Our country has suffered so much and somehow we’re still standing but I don’t know for how much long we will last. So please. Don’t leave us alone.

#poland #lgbt #feminism #tw homophobia #signal boost

[kaysayshey]

off paper || e. kirishima

This is a work inspired by a struggle that a lot of those suffering with mental illness experience, particularly those with depression and bipolar disorder; however, it can be applied to a lot of mood-altering medications that cause sexual dysfunction. While medication is a life changing and stabilizing aspect of many lives, it doesn't come without its cons. I think Kirishima would be incredibly understanding in this situation. Please keep in mind that bipolar disorder presents in many ways. There is no one-size-fits-all in mental health treatment or in its subsequent treatment. I wanted to write a bit about the side effects of SSRI medications.

Songs that I listened to while writing include:

Serendipity by BTS' Jimin

Bumper Cars by Alex and Sierra

That Kind of Love by MAX

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, NSFW (no smut, however this work contains sexual topics), mention of prescription drugs, bipolar disorder, minors DNI.

On paper, Kirishima Eijirou was perfect. An impressive sidekick working underneath Fatgum, his cheery disposition more than capable of reassuring even the most terrified of civilians. A hard-hitting, defensive quirk paired with determination unlike anything you'd ever seen. Easy-going enough to work with the difficult heroes - and by difficult, everyone meant Dynamight. Intelligent, reliable, and just the right amount of competitive.

Off paper, he was even better. Hell, the moment he'd asked you out, you'd almost done a double-take. Was he sure? Kirishima could date, well, anyone. However, you'd blurted out 'yes' before your brain had time to catch up, even more surprised at the gorgeous pink that graced the tips of his ears.

And the date went wonderfully. Were you expecting anything different? He was a magnet, and you were willing to be the refrigerator he stuck to - at least, for as long as he wanted. How he managed to remember what flavor of milk tea and boba you preferred, following it up with a quick delivery while working twelves at the agency, was beyond you. Good morning texts wishing you an easy day of your own hero work, good night texts hoping that your dreams were "sweeter than you." The moment a bouquet of roses was sent to your office, you had to admit it.

You were embarrassingly attracted to Kirishima Eijirou.

Not that he minded, no. If anything, he returned the feeling tenfold. After the first date came a string of others before finally labeling it as a relationship. Movie nights, walks through the park, chaste kisses interspersed by giggles as you both laughed at whatever came to mind. The quick meetings between your lips turned into full-on sessions that left your knees weak. Being with Kirishima was easy in a way that nothing else had been.

But let's face it. Working as a full-time hero with bipolar disorder made life, well, tough. A pharmaceutical cocktail and therapy helped, turning what was the disaster of your life into a manageable mess. Episodes were few and far between, the prickling anxiety was quelled by coping techniques and medication when necessary. The days spent in a daze of your own "self-medicating" were long gone, thank whatever higher power was out there. No, life was on the upswing for you in pretty much every aspect of the phrase.

Except for your sex life.

And no, that wasn't to say that Kirishima was doing anything wrong. To be quite honest, he was doing every just right. Kissing the places you loved most, calloused hands lingering deliciously over your skin. A voice like honey whispering in your ear, beautiful moans of how gorgeous you were, how he absolutely adored you. Saying that it left you with weak, knocking knees was an understatement. He was an emotional hurricane, sending butterflies through your stomach as he showered you with praise and carefully placed lips.

Other than a complete lack of climaxing, it was amazing.

You knew this was a possibility once you had started taking medications. A loss of libido was one thing, but being unable to finish was starting to wear on you. Before you could stop yourself, you were doing the unthinkable: faking orgasms.

After all, who wants to spend close to an hour between someone's thighs just to be met with frustrated sighs and potentially awkward conversations? No, Kirishima didn't need to spend so much time on your pleasure, not when there was a high probability that you wouldn't finish at all. As long as the moans weren't straight out of a low-budget porno overly exaggerated, you figured you'd get away with it.

Getting away with it turned out to be the least of your issues. The struggle was real. Outside of the sweetest lovemaking with Kirishima, you desperately tried every trick in the book to reach an orgasm on your own. Something. Anything. You were beginning to feel pent-up, needy. The money spent on toys was starting to reach an uncomfortably high number. Time was wasted and followed up by flopping onto the bed in frustration. No amount of lube, porn, or fantasy was helping. Once you hit the hour mark, you basically gave up.

And you were now pacing the hallways of your apartment, irrational tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Why did it matter? Orgasming was not the end all, be all of life. But the memory of before the medications, the euphoric bliss that would force your back from the mattress, that memory reared its head more often than you cared to admit. God damn it, you just wanted to feel the shudders, the rush of pleasure surging through your body, insatiable heat quenched. And you wanted to stop lying to him. The tears rimming your lash line made their arrival known, long tracks staining your cheeks.

This is, of course, when Kirishima decides to knock on your door. After all, you had planned to have a comfortable night in, a delightful line up of rom-coms at your disposal. Movies that you now wanted to throw out the nearest window. Why, why did you have to try again? He deserved so much more than a broken partner, a partner who would never be able to match him. Someone who could crash at the slightest struggle, who broke when their insecurities were brought to life.

Another set of knocks. Time to face the music.

As you gently opened the door, the drop in Kirishima's face was visible as he took in your state. Where a bright grin had been settled now featured lips drawn into a tight, worried line. After all, you did everything in your power to keep him in the dark in regards to your mental illness. Not necessarily your smartest move, in retrospect. Hindsight, you know?

The moment the door clicked behind him, Kirishima was gathering you in his arms, a large hand gently stroking the back of your head. A kiss to your temple, his forehead pressing against your hairline. Deep breaths weren't helping you at this point. Because regardless of how frustrated you were, Kirishima was safety, the warmth of his embrace a haven for you to let out the sobs that were wracking through your body.

And as the tears fell, darkening his gray tee shirt, Kirishima ran his hands up and down your back, the comforting heat of his body providing temporary relief. After moments of crying, you pressed your head against his chest, eyes glued to the linoleum floor beneath you.

A thick finger and thumb tenderly met your chin, slowly lifting your face to meet his eyes. Those usually warm red irises were dark with worry, the pad of his thumb running circles over and over against your skin. Another reminder of just how good he was. No man had ever made you feel as desired or important as Kirishima.

"Baby, what happened?" he murmured, still caressing your face so gingerly that it brought the threat of more tears.

"It's nothing, nothing important," came your quick response, avoiding any lingering eye contact. It wasn't that important. Sexual gratification came second to emotional connection, and you had that firmly in your grasp with Eijirou. Why would you risk losing someone like that?

His eyebrow narrowed at your words, and he kept your face cradled in his hands. "Please tell me, baby. I want to help."

God, that expression of pure concern. Like you were everything to him, like your hurt was his hurt. It was in that moment you knew: you couldn't keep lying to him. Whether it meant he'd leave for someone else, someone perfectly, indescribably normal; that didn't matter. If anyone deserved a picture-perfect romance, it was Kirishima.

Eijirou, I-" Your voice broke from the nerves, unable to hold his unflinching gaze. How could someone be so earnest? He nodded, those same reassuring circles urging you to speak.

"I think you deserve someone better."

He looked like you'd honest to goodness slapped him. So many emotions flashed over his usually cheerful face that it scared you. Oh, god, this wasn't what you wanted to do, but how could you not? No one wanted someone like you. Once he knew, he'd leave. Better to push him away first and just let it end now before-

"What are you talking about? Baby. I don't want anyone else. I want you." His words came out stammered, tripping over his tongue and falling into the otherwise quiet apartment. Kirishima shook his head slowly, searching your face for some form of reassurance that this wasn't what you wanted. That you didn't want him.

"I don't know why. I just, I'm too much. You'll end up getting frustrated with me and I just, I just can't take that kind of heartbreak."

"Too much? You're never too much, what are you talking about?"

The words fell before you could stop them, faster than should be discernible to the human ear. But if there was anything Eijirou was, it was attentive.

"My medicine is driving me crazy, and I know without it I'll go over the edge again. But I want to feel normal, Eiji. I can't handle feeling like I'm not normal." And it was true. Sex was so innately human, and knowing that there was a chance that you'd never be able to gain that ultimate satisfaction was driving you mad. Was this just an overreaction from a brain exhausted from constantly fighting itself, or was this a logical, albeit emotionally charged, reaction?

"Your medicine?"

There it was. What you wanted to avoid mentioning. Sure, it wasn't fair to keep it from him. But let's be honest, you'd been expecting this to end after the first few months. And now? Now you were shaking in his arms, knowing this confession would be the end of the dreamy love you'd been experiencing.

"My medicine for uh... for my, um. I have bipolar disorder. It's why I can't work on Thursdays, too. I have to go to therapy. I know I should've told you from the beginning but I just, you know, I really, really like you, and I don't-"

One finger met your lips followed by soothing shushes from his own. As if the world's weight had been lifted from his capable shoulders, Kirishima let out a heaving sigh of relief. The arm around your waist pulled you closer, his large hand splaying comfortably against your back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to be okay. What can I do for you?"

And that left you tearfully admitting it all. Longing for the physicality that would bring you closer together, the bliss of coming undone at your partner's hands. Disgust when you listened to your friends' bragging of delicious, gratifying one-night stands. Aching heat desperate to be relieved by your man only to be left at the edge, the warmth still tingling through your body. How you felt caught halfway between "normal" and "crazy" even with the drugs. And Kirishima nodded, hanging on every word.

"I'm glad you told me," he began, slowly trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "If I had known, I would've worked ten times harder. Will you let me make you feel good, honey? Please?"

How did those few sentences send you into another fit of tears? Clutching the lightweight fabric of his shirt and apologizing for the damp stains, you nuzzled against his chest in embarrassment. But he continued his motions, adept fingers working at your tense muscles.

That night, he gave you everything you wanted and more, eager to please you in a way he never had. Eyes focused, sweet nothings spilling from his lips, tender hands and featherlight kisses. Teasing and romance and dedication over hours, something you'd never experienced before.

On paper, Kirishima was perfect. Off paper, he was even more. And he fulfilled his promise to you, "I love you" slipping from his lips when you finally reached your euphoria.

"I love you too, Eijirou."

"I'll always love you more."

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x gn!reader #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #tw bipolar #tw medication #kaysays #i'm super nervous posting this one #ngl

[skywalkerstyles]

Skin (Bakugou x OC!Reader insert)

Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, quirkless AU, criminal Bakugou, robbery, hostage situation, anxiety, mysophobia

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Hikaru Moshimoto is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Hikaru is taken hostage and forced to work with Bakugou in order to survive, will the be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Hikaru started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Bakugou protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list? 

Hikaru Moshimato felt sick when she woke up that chilly september morning. Monday, September fifteenth to be exact. It was a day she would never forget or get over. It changed the course of her life forever. 

It started out like any other morning, she got up, got dressed, had breakfast, fed her little cat Yoshi and headed out the door on her way to work. But there was a presence, it was dark and gloomy, and hung over her like a shadow. Something was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. At all. 

She pulled up to the little gas station by her job, it had a little convenience store attached, a place she could grab snacks and drinks before work, the vending machines there were usually way overpriced, so it was easier to just bring food with her. She got out of her car, locking the doors as she held her wallet close to her chest, tucked her head down and walked inside. 

She sighed, upon stepping into the cool air conditioned building, and instead of walking up to the counter and just paying for her gas she eyed the slushie station. She loved slushies,  and she could never pass one up. She smiled to herself thinking, fuck it, and strolled over to the slushie machine. There was a man standing to the side of the machine, where the fridges held the drinks, he had a Redbull in one hand and a smartwater in the other. He wore an unbuttoned, navy blue flannel with a black t shirt and grease stained blue jeans. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and his hair was covered by a blue and white striped baseball cap. Hikaru was hyper aware of his presence, making sure to keep aware of her surroundings. She didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy. He scared her. Seemed like trouble.

But if he noticed her presence, he didn't show any signs of it.

So Hikaru relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head and began to ponder the flavor she’d get today. Hikaru had never been one for conversation anyway. She always kept to herself, due to some social anxieties and quirks she had, that made her ‘unapproachable’ as her mother had put it. But if you had a doctor mother who abused prescription medication and neglected you after your father’s death, you might have some fucked up issues too.

 Which is why she found it strange when she felt the man’s presence shift, he’d come closer to her, and she could feel him staring. She kept her eyes down, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled a cup from the slot and got ready to pour her syrupy drink into it.

 "What's your favorite flavour?" He asked suddenly, and the deep rough voice startled her. She twitched and peek at him curiously through her hair, that thankfully, covered most of her face.

 "Coke." she answered meekly. The man cracked a smile, his teeth were perfect and bright. It was almost, alluring. Definitely charming.

 “Really?” he asked, reaching out and taking the cup from her. She didn’t have time to react, before he plucked it from her hands and filled it with the drink of her choice. “I like blue raspberry best….sometimes cherry’s good too.” He handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly. He chuckled at her demeanor, cocking his head to the side, that ridiculously handsome smile still plastered to his face.

 “Thank you.” she managed after a moment, she placed a lid on her drink and grabbed a straw.

“No problem,” he replied, following her as she turned towards the cashier. She can feel the panic and the nerves rising within her. Why was he following her? As they stood in line, waiting for the other customers to leave, she could feel the man change, his whole demeanor took on a darker, more serious tone. She curled in on herself, hoping he wouldn’t try and follow her to her car. Hikaru hadn’t always been this way. Afraid of germs, afraid of touch….Basic human contact. No. If you looked at her high school yearbook, you wouldn’t even think it was the same person. She used to be bright, and outgoing, willing to chat it up with just about anybody, a regular teenage girl. Until Amano. And...Hina... She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand, get the drink. Get the gas. Go to work. She took a deep breath, she would complete her goals today.

 “Hi! How are you today?” a cheery red head smiled at Hikaru, she tried to smile back, and return the enthusiasm, but the feeling of dread was starting to creep back up on her and she couldn’t shake it off.

 “I’m fine thank you. Ten dollars on pump-”

 “Shut up.” Hikaru feels a strong hand wrap around her upper arm and tug her back, she looked up to see the man who had been by the slurpee machine, pulling her towards him, a pistol in his hand, pointed right at the cashier. Hikaru squeaked as the man pulls her into him, jabbing the gun into her side. “Give me all the money in the register, or you, and her die. Now!” Hikaru flinches at the last word, which he snarled at the cashier. She had her hands up, tears streaming down her face. “Move.” he ordered. The cashier slammed a metal grate down and an alarm began to sound. The man held onto Hikaru even harder, yanking her around as he turned to find an exit. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hikaru shifted, trying to wriggle free. He pulled her closer, he was big and intimidating. He reminded her of Amano. “You’re not going anywhere.” he said. “I need you. Come on.”

 Panic began to rise within Hikaru, she could feel her breath growing more ragged by the minute, all the things she needed to get done shooting through her head. The man dragged her towards the back of the store and into the warehouse, once inside, he shut and locked the door, shoving her from him and holding the gun to her. Surprisingly, the slushie hasn’t spilled. “Don’t move.” he said coldly. A sob escaped her throat, the bubble was rising, she could feel the panic getting ready to burst.

 “P-Please,” she rasped, her throat was closing, she couldn’t breathe.“I-I have money.”

 “I don’t want your money. We need to get out of here.” Hikaru looked at him confused.

 “W-we?” the man grabbed her again, yanking her towards the back of the warehouse.

 “Yeah. We. You’re my hostage,” fear filled her as the man’s lips curled into a confident smirk. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and yanked her forward, cuffing her. “Don’t struggle. And you live.” She was about to faint. The alarm was blaring, but through the sound Hikaru could hear the doors bursting open. The same doors she had walked into only minutes ago, it seemed like hours now. The man cursed again, kicking the back exit door open and shoving her through.

________________

They hid behind a dumpster, he peaked out, looking around to see cops, flooding into the gas station, Hikaru shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs were tight on her wrists, digging into her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “A-are you a criminal?” she asked. He didn’t even turn to look at her, inching forward slowly, his hand still gripping her tightly.

 "Yeah."that was it. No explanation. Just a straight no bull answer. As the cops go into the front of the store, the man gripped her tightly and yanked her towards an older Astro van. Hikaru pondered why no cops were looking over towards them, how no one could see he was taking her. But it would be just her luck. He threw the passenger door open, shoving her inside, before running around to the otherside and climbing in. The door shut with a slam and he pealed out and away, the cops just noticing as you leave the gas station. The sweet and tasty slushie, left on the floor of the warehouse.

 ____________

The van was loud. It sent deep rumbles of vibration all the way down to Hikaru’s bones. Like a  massage after the chaos back at the gas station. Her hands are still bound but the man had finally stowed the gun. There was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. She was stuck and she stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, so low he might not even hear her. He stopped drumming and turned to look at her for the first time since he’d taken her.

 "Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed some cash….but damn that cashier was quick on her feet. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

 “W-why do you say that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep blood red.

 “You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” she shook her head. The news gave her anxiety. The only time she left her dorm was for class or work. Necessities. She kept to herself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

 “Why do you ask?” she asked a bit louder. She watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

 “I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

 She decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

 “I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Hikaru feels the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

 “M-my…..it’s Hikaru.” she said, wishing she sounded braver than she felt. “Hikaru Moshimoto.”

 “I’m Bakugou, Bakugou Katsuki.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

 “Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked his laugh.

 “Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

 “H-How many…” Hikaru trailed off, unable to finish her question. It was strange, she could never talk and be this open with just anybody. She usually just kept quiet, and stayed in her lane. She wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

 “How many people have I killed?” Bakugou finished for her. She nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of her thoughts. He can tell that she’s got something going on. She looked so small and fragile. Like the china plates his mom used to collect. He really didn’t want to hurt her, and silently prayed he’d never have to. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” Hikaru’s mouth fell open in shock.

 “Oh my….” she instinctively moved further from him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of rejection. She focused on her shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep her from going crazy. They sat in silence for a long while. Bakugou began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except she saw it. "So where are you taking me?" Hikaru asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again

 “I’m taking you to my family. You’re my hostage for now, but they’ll decide if you know too much or have seen too much.” Hikaru swallowed hard, wondering what that could possibly mean. He must have sensed her worry, because he reached out, only to pull his hand back when she flinched, with a sigh. “Just don’t worry….You seem harmless enough.”

 “Can you take the cuffs off? Please? They hurt.” Bakugou pulls off onto the side of the road.

 "Don't try anything, okay? I have a gun." Bakugou met her eyes as he shut off the van and turned to her, he looked down to her hands. He quickly unlocked the cuffs and sat back. She rubbed her swollen wrists and he started the car back up.

 “Are you scared?” he asked after a while. Hikaru looked up at him again. She noticed he had freckles, they were light and scattered across his cheeks...He’d be a good subject to draw.

 “I….” she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m terrified…..I know that mentally….But I guess I’ve shut down. I don’t really feeling anything.” 

“Why?” he asked, suddenly curious. Did he want her to be afraid. 

“I’ve been in….I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” he scoffed at that, disbelievingly.

 “You’re my hostage. I had you at gunpoint. I’m kidnapping you and you’ve been in worse situations?” she smiles at how ludicrous it sounds.

 “It does sound crazy but….I don’t know. I have a lot of anxiety disorders and I’ve been struggling with depression so I….maybe this was too much and my body is protecting itself.” he pursed his lips together.

 “How old are you?”

 “22.”

 Shit. He thought. She’s just a kid. “I’m sorry it had to be you.” she gave him a questioning look. “In the store. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have taken you.” she nodded, not quite accepting his apology, but understanding, that he knew, she had been through some shit.

 “I haven’t…..I haven’t left this town my entire life.” she said quietly, changing the subject. Bakugou picked up her switch in demeanor and followed it, trying to lighten the mood.

 “Yeah?” she tried to smile, it was small and tight, but she could feel the uneasiness begin to grow again.

 “Yeah….where is your family?”

 “You’ll see,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll like it better than this dump.” he snorted as they passed the ‘Leaving Town’ sign.

 “Why did you come here?” she asked before she could stop herself.

 “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” she nodded, sinking back into her seat. Bakugou cleared his throat and turned the radio back up. “Better settle in. We got a long drive…..what kind of music do you like?”

 ________

He shut the door behind him. The dorm room was quiet and he couldn’t feel her presence as he looked around. Everything was in it’s rightful place, meticulous and germ freak as ever. He missed her so much. He walked over to Hikaru’s desk and lifted the sketchbook that sat open on it, he touched the lines of the person she drew, imagining the way she drew it, the way her hands moved. His heart was racing. It was 4pm and she should have been home now. She didn’t have any friends.

 Where was she?

 Where was the girl he’d been searching for for so long?

 He was dying to see her again…….

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #bakugou bnha #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou one shot #bakugou fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha bakugou #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia one shot #my hero academia imagine

[teamhook]

Emma and Killian :: Kate and Leopold CS AU for CSMM

Hello lovelies!! So I’m on a schedule and you will be getting updates for my fics. 3 per Month ;)

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and the wonderful CSMM Discord Family. My co-writer @revanmeetra87

I want to also thank @ultraluckycatnd for Beta-ing thiis thing for us.

|FFN|

|AO3|

Friday and The Weekend

Killian and David shared a guilty look. They had both behaved like children. Killian knew he had more than the other, in part due to his inebriety and the other part was jealousy of what he didn't know. Killian said goodnight to his mate and went home to ponder on his actions.

He decided he would try his best to make amends to her. So he did what he did best, put his thoughts on paper, and hoped that it would grant him redemption.

The next day, Emma woke up and got ready fast. She had to get to work and somehow fix the mess her brother and that jerk that couldn't keep his mouth shut had made.

David greeted her in the kitchen with a cup of coffee ready for her which she promptly snubbed and rushed out.

David had arranged for Emma to find the letter that Killian had dropped off earlier, but she was eager to leave the apartment. He knew they both had misbehaved and his sister was in her right to be angry at them.

He grabbed both the letter and the first fruit in the basket he could and dashed after her.

Emma had reached the street and was just about to hail a cab when she heard David's voice. "Ems! Emma, wait!"

She halted because she loved her idiot brother, and it's them against the world.

She turned to face him with her best 'you're in trouble' face.

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry. I know I fucked things up for us. I know that everything you do is for us to have a better life."

Emma stared her brother down. "I have to go clean up the mess you two made."

"Emma, I know and for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. Here, you can't go to work on an empty stomach," David said as he handed her a papaya. "Yeah, I know that," Emma says as she looks to the street for a cab. That's when he slipped the letter into her bag. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Emma arrived at work, waiting for the fallout of the previous night, but it never came. She was told there's a meeting with marketing, and she was the last one to arrive. She rushed into the conference room and took a seat so they could finally begin. The marketing team was going over the troubles they had come across due to the texture of the margarine. Emma peeked at her boss to see if looked angry or like the usual. She really doesn't see a change in him, but they have yet to talk. She sighed and opened her bag to pull out some papers. An envelope caught her eye and she quietly opened it.

 Dearest Emma...

I behaved as an imbecile last night, animated in part by drink, in part by your beauty, and in part by my own foolish pride and for that, I am profoundly sorry. Please accept, as a gesture of apology for my bad form, a private dinner on the rooftop tonight at 8 O'Clock.

Yours truly, Killian

 Emma felt her cheeks blush as her thoughts were interrupted by her boss.

"Emma, dear, where are we on Farmer's Bounty?" Mr. Oz asked.

Emma turned to her boss and took a deep breath. "We are good. As you know, we found our spokesperson. The response room final showed a 98 in the top two boxes. His key female descriptors were handsome, romantic, and with some write-ins of "What a babe".

Mr. Oz sullenly replied with a simple, "Great."

As they ended the meeting and everyone went back to work, Mary Margaret was waiting for her. Emma handed her assistant her bag and rushed after Walsh to say her apologies.

"Mr. Oz, I mean Walsh, I just want to apologize for what happened last night," Emma said.

"I appreciate that," he simply said.

"So are we okay?" she asks, hopeful.

"Yes, we are. Now if you would excuse me, I have to make some calls. We will talk later," Walsh said as he walked to his office.

Meanwhile, Jefferson was losing his patience at the Hospital. He just wanted to get released so he could get home and get Killian back to his time. Out of pure desperation, he thought explaining the situation to his doctor would be enough, but Dr. Hyde wasn't as receptive as he had hoped.

"I didn't jump to my death. I fell because there was no elevator," Jefferson clarified.

Dr. Hyde nodded. "And you feel it's somehow your fault?"

"Well, it stands to reason that nature would correct itself since my great-great-grandfather isn't there to invent the elevator or spawn his seed," Jefferson added matter of factly.

"Both you and the elevator would cease to exist, but clearly do," the doctor said.

Jefferson shook his head. "I can see you are a very busy man and I hate to take up your valuable time. I'm not one of those people who need your attention. Would you please just sign my release papers?"

Dr. Hyde sighed. "I'm concerned you might be a danger to yourself. State law requires that I keep you here in such cases. I'm afraid I cannot in good conscience sign your release."

Jefferson tried to open the door while balancing on crutches.

Before he could open it, the door flew open. "Dr. Hyde, is there a problem?" a lovely woman asked.

"No Priscilla, everything is fine. Could you please assist Jefferson back to his room and ensure this prescription is filled?" Dr. Hyde said to his nurse.

"Jefferson, I'm going to prescribe a mild antipsychotic. Nothing too strong."

Wandering around in circles in Game of Thorns, David looked over his notes, nerves getting worse with each lap.

"Mary Margaret, did you want - no, Mary Margaret, would you like...uggh…"

He was never going to convince her to go on a date if he tried mumbling and bumbling through his invitation. He was already humiliated, and he wasn't even asking her yet!

Outside of the flower shop, he could see Killian handing a street musician some cash as he made a request. Just what the request was, David couldn't quite hear.

Well, he had enough of his own problems to deal with, in any case.

Killian then entered the shop, and David practically pounced on him. "Listen, Killian, about the things you wrote for me here, for Mary Margaret...Some if it seems kind of…"

"Did you pick your flowers?" Killian asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh. Yep. Right, uhhh...here," David said, grabbing the nearest arrangement. "Now, about this speech-"

"Oh no, this will not do," Killian said, concerned.

"What, the flowers?" David looked at them for the first time. They seemed pretty enough to him. Plenty of colors. They even smelled nice.

"The orange lily suggests extreme hatred. The begonia and lavender danger and suspicion, respectively. Every flower has a meaning." Glancing around him, Killian grasped an enormous (and to David, absurd-looking) flower and held it in front of David. "Might I suggest the amaryllis, which declares the recipient a most splendid beauty. Or-" Breaking off, Killian strode forward. "- the cabbage rose…"

Sighing, hoping Killian was right about all this, David followed.

Inside her office, Emma lifted a piece of paper that was accepting Killian's invitation.

The only problem?

She hadn't written it.

Grinding her teeth, trying to pretend she was angry at her assistant and not at the fact that she did want to accept Killian's offer, Emma called for Mary Margaret.

Almost immediately, Mary Margaret poked her head in the office. "Yes?"

"What is this?" asked Emma, waving the paper in the air.

"It's your agreement to having dinner with Killian," she responded, as though there was nothing unusual about it. "I made it up for you to sign."

"I hadn't decided if I was going!" Emma cried, slapping the letter on her desk. She knew she was overreacting, but the thought of a private dinner with Killian was making her so...so stupidly nervous.

Mary Margaret lifted her chin, and a bit of fire entered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said in the strongest voice Emma had ever heard from her. "But that is the best apology in the history of mankind, and if you don't go with him, I know you will regret it! Please, just sign it, and we can fax it to him. There is still time."

Taken aback by her usually shy assistant's firm manner, Emma closed her eyes, bit her lip, and grabbed for her pen.

Inside Jefferson's apartment, Killian was cooking the meal for his dinner with Emma. To his relief and delight, he had received the fax confirming her presence.

Taking his eyes from the stove, while still being attentive to his work, Killian watched as David paced the room nervously with the telephone to his ear.

Suddenly, with a little start, David said, "Oh, hi Mary Margaret; it's me, David. I was calling to see if you got my flowers. I mean your flowers. I mean the ones I sent?" He paused for a breath, then said "Good!" to the reply. He then looked to Killian, voice stalling.

Killian gave him a smile and a nod. "You can do this, my friend."

Pressing onward, David continued. "I was wondering if you would like to go to a movie, and then...perhaps accompany me to dinner?" Waving his free hand, he rushed on, "I-I-I-I understand completely if you are otherwise engaged. But, uh, I just wanted to say, umm…" Stopping to consult his notes, a small furrow appeared in David's brow.

"Come on. No need to be ashamed. You can do the speech as written," Killian encouraged silently.

"I wanted to say you've made an impression on me. And...and it's not only because you are so pretty. I mean, you're very pretty, but it's more than that. It's, umm...You're graceful. You know, the way you move, and speak. You just have a way with words. And I really, really like you."

There was a very long pause, during which David looked terrified. Then, responding to what Mary Margaret had said, he mumbled, "Seven? Yes! Yes, seven would be great. Would be fantastic. See you then!"

He ended the call, then jumped straight up in the air victoriously. "I did it! I am going out with Mary Margaret!"

Killian chuckled as David did a small dance.

"I gotta go get ready!" David exclaimed.

Emma arrived home and she would deny it to anyone, but she was a little excited about the dinner date with Killian. She was about to go to her room to get ready when her brother came out of his room looking very handsome. He had a silly grin on his face that she had not seen in a while.

David smiled wide at his sister as he greeted her with a quick kiss on her cheek.

"You look very handsome David. I didn't know you were going out tonight."

"Yeah, I have plans. It was unplanned until earlier today."

"So is this a big date?" she asked.

"Yeah, Ems I really like this girl."

"Who is the lucky lady?"

"Uhm, if it goes well, I'll tell you tomorrow, but I just don't want to jinx it."

Emma nodded. "Okay, good luck, and for what it's worth, she is lucky to have your attention."

"Thanks, and I think you are supposed to say that cause you are my sister."

"Just stating facts, David. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are one of the good ones."

"Ems, so are you. Have fun tonight, okay?"

She smiled. "I will. Now go before you are late for the big date!"

Finally, in her room, she opened her closet. She ruffled through the hangers, trying to find the right outfit. Her eyes landed on a pale pink dress she purchased years ago, and it never felt right to wear until now.

The dress fit perfectly and it made her feel like a true princess. She put her hair in a high ponytail with very light makeup, just enough to heighten her looks. Why was she so nervous?

It was time to make her way up to the roof.

Emma opened the roof door slowly and was astonished at the display in front of her. There were fairy lights hanging, creating a magical environment, and a man was playing the violin. The table was set with candlelight, and she could see a wine bottle next to plates and the tray with the food. Her mouth opened at the effort Killian made to please her.

"This is beautiful! You didn't have to go to so much trouble," Emma said, biting her bottom lip.

"No trouble at all, lass," Killian confirmed as he met her to guide her to her seat.

"May I?" he asked as he grabbed the chair to pull it out for her.

She nodded, unable to speak. He looked handsome wearing his old-timey outfit. Perhaps the atmosphere he created made him appear as if he was the lead in a romantic novel.

Emma stared into the night for a moment. "My mom was a true romantic." She smiled fondly. "She cried for weeks after Prince Charles and Lady Di got married."

Killian furrowed his brows. "I'm not familiar with them."

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't want to be. A cautionary tale, proof that you can't live a fairy tale," Emma said and added, "I'm not very good with men."

"Perhaps you haven't found the right one," he said hopefully.

"Maybe, True Love only exists in fairy tales."

"My brother told me I had become a blemish on the family name due to an indiscretion from my youth, and now he tries to marry me off every chance he gets. I would be married now if I hadn't followed Jefferson. I was to announce a bride that night."

"Who?"

He sighed. "I don't know, it didn't matter to him. I suppose the one with the most money. Our family fortune is gone, and all we have is the family name."

After they finished eating, Emma stood up to start cleaning.

"What are you doing?" Killian asked.

"Just cleaning up."

"The night is not over yet. Would you do me the honor of a dance? Please?" he asked as he extended his hand for her to take.

"I'm not a good dancer," she said as she took his hand.

"There's only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what he's doing." He winked, pulling her close to him as she rolled her eyes, and they started gliding.

"Smee always told me love is a leap. I was never ready to jump until I met you."

"Killian, this was lovely but I don't know if I can leap, even if I am inspired." The lightness she had felt while dancing with him was sinking into harsh reality. And she was afraid. "I'm not...not brave enough."

Then, in the next moment, he was quoting something to her, something beautiful and flowery and perfectly Killian, and she was kissing him, warmth spreading from her chest all the way to her toes.

The next morning, after a wonderful date with Mary Margaret, David woke to the sound of Killian cooking breakfast.

They exchanged hellos, each asking how the other's date went. According to Killian, his date had also gone well.

David was pleased, but something was nagging at him. Emma was so rarely happy these days. And it was great that Killian was helping her to take down her walls, but if things were to continue...well, he wanted to make sure Emma was with someone she could really trust.

"Look, Killian, I have to ask you…" David trailed off. "Who are you? I mean, really?"

Killian spread some jam on toast, seeming confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's been a lot of fun doing the duke act with you, but...Emma's been through a lot, and I don't want her to have to deal with even more."

Killian lifted his hand. "I understand, David."

"So...Who are you?"

With a deep breath, Killian said, "I am the man who loves your sister. Who would go to the end of the world, or time, for her."

And with that, David was reassured.

David showed Killian how to master the dishwasher after breakfast was made. Killian was still in awe of the technology of the time.

"Just make sure Emma sees you push the button. Whatever you do, don't press it until she is awake to see you do it."

"Oh, clever. The proverbial tree in the woods. If a man washes a dish and no one sees it...Did it happen?"

"Exactly!" David said, excitedly.

Emma then made her appearance. Her stomach growled at the delicious scent.

Killian's smile welcomed her. "Love, a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, thank you."

David watched the pair making eyes at each other and decided not to be a third wheel and made his escape. Perhaps he could call Mary Margaret to make more plans.

Killian got a plate ready for Emma as she took her seat.

"Nine-grain toast with strawberries and mascarpone, my lady."

"Yum, this is really good," she moaned as she took bite after bite.

He hadn't seen anything as beautiful in his life.

Emma took the last bite and turned to Killian with a smile. "What should we do today?"

"Your heart's desire," Killian simply answered.

Emma and Killian get dressed, independently of course. Killian Jones was always a gentleman, after all. They set out to explore the city together.

Killian stopped at a market table full of sunglasses.

Emma snorted. "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no," she said as she took the glasses away from him, scrunched her face, and put them back on their display.

Killian looked so sad as he faced her.

"Make that face all you want, but those glasses were so inappropriate for you."

He quirked an eyebrow and they resumed their walk.

Killian gasped. "Emma, love. Emma, come!" he said excitedly as he pulled her toward a house.

"Killian, what are you doing?" she hissed.

He had gotten them inside the house; it appeared to be a museum of sorts.

"Bloody hell! This is where I lived. Good Lord. A portrait of my parents, my brother... and me." He pulled her up the stairs.

Emma looked at the portrait and gulped as she passed it. She still tried to find logic and deny what he told her was true. "Killian, I don't think that we should just be barging around here like that."

Killian held her hand as he pulled her all over the house before he stopped and stood in front of one of the rooms. He faced her with a smile. "Emma, this is my old quarters," he said as he walked to his hidden spot.

Emma looked around frantically. "What are you doing?"

He put pressure on a spot, then they heard a crackling sound. "Emma, this is the place where I put everything I most cared for. Things I didn't want Liam to touch. Like our mother's ring." He showed her a beautiful ring that he somehow knew its hiding place, and she hated to think what that truly meant for them, so she ignored the nagging pull in her heart.

Emma smiled. "Oh, it's breathtaking."

Later that evening, Emma and Killian finally end up cuddled on the sofa together after their day exploring the city.

Emma had her hand on his chest, playing with the hair there. She felt so comfortable in his arms. She sighed. "Do you..."

"Hmm, What would like to know, love?" he asked as he gently caressed her back.

She sighed and shifted in his embrace to see his face. "Do you miss where you're from?"

"Ah, I suppose I do in a way. There are things I miss, such as its rhythm."

"Is that slower like today?"

"Aye, quite a bit slower." He smiled.

She groaned. "That means that tomorrow is Sunday. I don't want it to be Sunday. What I do want is more of this." She snuggled closer to him.

He laughed heartily.

"Ooh, Monday is when we shoot your commercial so that's something exciting." She hummed comfortably from her cozy little bubble.

Not long after that, she drifted into sleep.

Killian kissed the top of her head and took out his mother's ring. He knew she had fallen asleep and it was now a lost moment. He picked her up and took her to bed, and tucked her in affectionately.

Emma said sleepily, "You're tucking me in."

"Aye."

"Huh, you're my Smee."

"Yes, I am Your Grace."

"Hey, hey, you don't have to... don't go upstairs. Stay."

He nodded and got in bed behind her, spooning her. He whispered, "I love you, Emma," in her ear before drifting off to sleep himself.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4  @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615  @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713    @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes  @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38 @zaharadessert​​

#Captain Swan #CSMM #CSMM20 #cs ff #Captain Swan Movie Marathon

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Word count: 1781

Warnings: Gore. Mentions blood. 

Title: ABO (A) Kirishima Eijiro x (O) Reader Pharmacy Run (Zombie AU)

Summary: You got on a pharmacy run and things turn south. 

(Gif not mine credit to owner) 

🦈-It had been three months since things went to hell.

🦈-You had been one of the lucky Omegas that took suppressants to block their heats and scent. You had just filled your prescription that week so you had a whole three months covered.

🦈-You had hidden in an abandoned gas station. It was one meant for truckers so you had access to running showers which you were reluctant to enjoy because the water pounded heavily against the tiles.

🦈-You only settled there because they had metal shutters that would come down. It was secure and you felt safe there. As safe as one could get in a zombie apocalypse.

🦈-You stayed low and didn’t draw any attention to yourself. The gas station was located on a high way leading out of the city so you didn’t hear many survivors passing through.

🦈-The yells and screams you did hear kept you awake at night. You knew being an Omega was dangerous in regular society but now that Omegas were few and far between Alphas had lost any sense of control.

🦈-You would rather die being torn apart by zombies than have a feral Alpha catch you.

🦈-You only had one week of suppressants left before you ran out. You knew both the dead and alive would come for you if you didn’t find more soon. That was why you were on the roof of an old supermarket.

🦈-You wanted to scope out the place before you went in.

🦈-You stayed up there for a while and didn’t hear the telltale signs of the dead occupying it. You didn’t hear the knocking over of cans or the crunch of glass they unsteadily walked on.

🦈-The sun was still up high so you thought it was time to finally enter the decrepit supermarket. You would like to get back to your home before the sun started dipping. You would have liked to go through the back since pharmacies were always located in the back but the door was chained up.

🦈-So you looked down the empty street for both the dead and living before sneaking in the entrance. You noticed the shelves were almost bare. A few cans of still lingered but you didn’t dwell on them.

🦈-You were here for the only thing you really needed to survive. A full belly was nice but you would rather have you scent masked then snag a few cans. You walked through the aisles jumping at every creak of the building.

🦈-You arrived at the pharmacy, it was just as trashed as the rest of the building. Paper bags that were once white now soiled in dirt and blood scattered the floor. You were careful to avoid them, not wanting to make any unnecessary sounds.

🦈-The drawers had straightforward labels. Antibiotics, allergy medicine, fever medication, and so on. You paused when you came across suppressants. You shakily opened it, hoping with all your heart that it wasn’t empty.

🦈-Your eyes sparkled when your eyes gazed at a decent pile of monthly packs. At least a year worth. Your Omega jumped in joy. Although she was upset that pups weren’t on the list anytime soon she enjoyed living just as much.

🦈-You stuffed all of the suppressants in your backpack before throwing in anything else you thought might have been useful.

🦈-You were too focused on the abundance of medicine that you didn’t notice unsteady footsteps creeping your way. It was only when you heard a moan so close nearby did you look up, to zombies had followed you to the back.

🦈-You were quick to hide behind the shelves, they were sniffing the air. You might not have been out much but you noticed a pattern. If you were more than a fifteen feet in away from them they would pick up your Omega scent even with the suppressants.

🦈-Farther away they still showed interest but didn’t pursue you as hard.

🦈-These ones must have been walking by and smelled you straight away. You were glad it was only two of them and not a whole hoard. The cities were known for their big crowds.

🦈-You grabbed an empty medkit and threw it on the other side of the room. They were quick to snap their head in that direction and pursue the noise. You slowly maneuvered around the paper bags again before silently dashing away.

🦈-They much have just came from a fresh kill. The floors were slick with blood from their footsteps. You didn’t notice until your slipped and hit your head on one of the shelves, cans crashed all around you.

🦈-You were a little disoriented, ringing in your ears made you unsteady and the pain in your head made you dizzy. Without your permission, your Omega sent out a chirp.

🦈-Any Alpha within a mile would have heard. You didn’t know if the zombies were sensitive to them too. They certainly were obsessive over your smell. You tried to get back up to run out but you crumpled over right away.

🦈-It was pointless to hold in your whimpers at that point. You got your suppressants but they cost your life. You pictured yourself bleeding out on the dirty floor as you felt the dead pair steadily walking your way for their next meal.

🦈-You felt another presence from the opposite side of the aisle. You thought it was just another zombie ready to sink their teeth into you but a loud growl rumbled through them.

🦈-It wasn’t like the growls you heard from the dead on a regular basis. No, it was a familiar one from the old world. One that said to back off from someone’s mate. You lifted your eyes and caught a blurry red-haired figure.

🦈-He carried a bat with him and hung it over his bulky shoulder. You could make out the faint outlines of nails pounded into it. You didn’t doubt that it was deadly in this strong Alphas hands.

🦈-He ran down the aisle and jumped over your slumped figure. His bat came down on the nearest zombie head. He was quick to bring his bat down on the other, with a heaving chest and blood dripping down his bat he turned your way.

🦈-Your vision had cleared up a bit the feral scowl on his face made you whimper. He was one of them, an Alpha with only one thing on his mind.  In an instant, his face softened and he took a step back. He didn’t drop the bat but he lifted his hands up to show he wasn’t to be feared.

🦈-“Are you okay? Did I get here in time, Omega?” His eyes scanned your body, besides the trickle of blood on your head you seemed fine.

🦈-His Alpha calmed at the thought. He was just going on a food run when he heard a chirp. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him but the hairs on his neck were evidence enough.

🦈-“I’m fine. They didn’t get to me.” You mumbled, holding your backpack strap tighter.  

🦈-“I’m glad.” He breathed, he didn’t let his guard down yet. His hero trained ears picked up on heavy footsteps coming from the entrance no doubt a big group was making their way over.

🦈-“We have to go.” He urged, eyes trying to look over the shelves to see how many to expect. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

🦈-You nodded and tried to stand up, your legs weren't cooperating, you wobbled as you stood. Kirishima didn’t think anything of it as he leaned down and tossed you over his wide shoulder.

🦈-You wanted to protest but knew this wasn’t the right time. You lifted your head to cover your backs. The dead were just entering the aisle. Kirishima wasted no time dashing into the back where you came from.

🦈-He was heading towards the back door.

🦈-“The door is chained shut. There is no way we are getting out that way.” You rushed, looking over at the metal door.

🦈-“Watch me.” He growled, running towards the door at neck-breaking speed.  

🦈-A cry got stuck in your throat, this was gonna hurt.

🦈-Only it didn’t, the Alpha hardened his fist and punched the door straight off, chains went crashing to the ground in a loud clang. Your Omega took this time to purr at the strong Alpha.

🦈-Not the time Omega.

🦈-Kirishima warmed at the sound but he pushed forward. He needed to get you to safety. He spotted a metal fire escape and took the chance. He used his leg power to launch himself up and grab at one of the bars.

🦈-You had already taken to hugging him like a koala and wrapped your legs around his thick waist. Your arms looped around his neck. He climbed up the ladder no problem and got you to the roof safely.

🦈-The building seemed to be an apartment complex so he didn’t want to crawl through the windows and meeting the old tenants. He stood on the roof and waited for you to detach yourself from him.

🦈-You were reluctant to leave his safe embrace but you slowly climbed down from him.

🦈-“Thank you, Alpha.” You sent him a small smile, noticing the way he stood up straighter when you called his title.

🦈-“It’s no problem. I am glad you are safe. I’m Kirishima.” He smiled, showcasing his sharp teeth before offering a rough hand for you to shake.

🦈-Your small one felt even smaller in his huge hand.

🦈-“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Kirishima.” You replied, shuffling on your feet. You didn’t know what to do now. It seems you would be stuck on the roof for a while if the groans below had anything to say about it.

🦈-“Do you like canned chili? I just picked up a load of them.” He tore off his backpack and unzipped it. His Alpha was all too eager to provide for the Omega. He hadn’t seen one in so long and this one was so beautiful and smelled like a summer day by the ocean.

🦈-“I could eat, a near death experience really eats away the calories.” You joked, taking the offered can.

🦈-“I am feeling pretty hungry myself.” He grinned, cracking open his own can before pulling out two plastic spoons.

🦈-So you sat on the roof of an abandoned apartment complex eating spoonfuls of cold chili. The food might have been cold but the atmosphere was warm and comforting. 

🦈-You felt safe with this Alpha and you didn’t think you would be leaving his side anytime soon.

Again with the zombie AU. I hope you liked it. I love this shark boy.❤️🦈

Please reblog my work it really motivates me to write more. Leave a note as well if you want to see more from me.

#mha x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #mha kirishima #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #bnha imagines #BNHA Headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #bnha eijirou #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha angst #bnha fanfiction #bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #Omega #omegaverse #abo #Alpha #zombie apocolypse au #angst #mha angst #zombie au #mha zombie au #bnha zombie au

[badatjokezz]

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe.... 

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills 

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

#oisuga #kurotsuki #oikawa x sugawara #kuroo x tsukishima #iwasuga #iwaizumi x sugawara #ushijima x oikawa #ushioi #atsunoya #haikyuu!! #fic recs