#guess who is crawling out of a depression and is back with projects

[backofbeyondcosplay]

It begins :3

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - fake sexy lamp au - 1.3

1.1 here 1.2 here

“Ugh!” With a dramatic huff and a flounce, Rebekah tipped sideways to lean on his shoulder, which drew a deep exhale from her exceedingly patient older brother, who was reaching his limit. Her gaze drifted over the contents of his folder, and she drew in a short breath. “Oh. Stefan.”

“Mm. The Ripper still appears to call this town home. Once more, he’s been pulled into the wake of a doppelgänger’s tragedies and found himself ensnared.” Lifting a page, from the stack underneath, he held up a photo—clearly taken at night—of Stefan outside a house, peering in the window.

Making a face, Rebekah reached her arm around and plucked another photo up: Stefan watching the doppelgänger in a graveyard. In the photo, she appeared to be writing in a journal, knees tucked up almost to her chin. 

“She’s not nearly as pretty as the first one,” Bekah said cattily, and real amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth for the first time all morning. His little sister could be so petty when she chose to be, and she had never quite gotten over the loss of Stefan all those years ago. To find he had been pulled into the aura of the doppelgänger like so many others before him had to be a low blow. The low level psychic tug the doppelgängers projected seemed to work on some, not on others. Elijah seemed eternally bound to their whims.

Thinking of Elijah put the scowl back on Klaus’ face.

“Enough, Rebekah.” Pulling the photo from her fingers, he tucked it back into the folder and shut it. “That will be your new best friend, come Monday morning.”

“Ugh. She promises to be horribly depressing. Writing in her diary in a graveyard, honestly.” Rebekah flicked the folder. “Hope you have a Tortured Artist persona ready, she’ll probably like that one.”

“Well, we’re not leaving anything to chance, or the treachery of the canon fodder this time, are we? Nor will Elijah be here to become romantically entangled in her web.” Idly, he watched passers-by mill around the town square.

Rolling her head against his shoulder to look up at his face, Rebekah squinted at him. “Are you two ever going to make up? It’s been decades.”

Something that certainly wasn’t petulance, definitely annoyance, crept into his voice. “Elijah is the one with the grudge. If he had only not spent two decades wallowing in self-imposed misery—”

“After you told him that you threw us into the ocean,” Rebekah pointed out.

“—Of which it was very clear to see I had not done so. You would have thought his spies better at reporting such things, and after I left so many of them alive.” It was rather magnanimous of him, he thought. Elijah should have come running, decades before he’d crawled out of his den of woe. Even now, he was still living apart from them. Oh, he’d visit to see Kol and Rebekah, but Klaus he ignored with frigid politeness. It was galling.

“You could just apologize,” Bekah wheedled.

Klaus reached for his backpack and shoved the folders inside, jerking the zip closed. Getting to his feet, he dumped Rebekah over on the bench and she swore while she righted herself. 

“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then,” she said irritably, shoving hair off her face.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Case: The Stormfoot Catacombs

From the Church of Elleh I spotted a strange figure on a nearby hill

When I got closer, I realized it was just a freaky statue. But when I touched it, it started projecting a light in a straight line.

Pulling out my trusty telescope, courtesy of Kalé, I was able to spot a small door in the nearby cliff.

When I got closer, I found a bunch of nobles digging around near what I at first identified as gravestones. Closer examination made me doubt that. I noticed the weird way they stacked on top of each other. Made me think of crystals, how they make regular shapes but the shapes just pile up. Couldn't read the runes, but I did notice that only the "carved" rocks have this golden lichen on them. I can't imagine anyone actually carving these shapes, so I'm just gonna chalk this up to "one of those things."

At any rate, I found the door and went into the catacombs, only to be greeted by a ghost in a chair.

He told me that true death means returning to the roots of the Erdtree, and I shouldn't be so hasty. Now, ghosts this thin aren't typically good conversationalists. They generally have one thing only to say, so anyone who walked into this catacomb might get the same lecture.

On closer examination though, I noticed the ghost was one of the long-necks. It's hard to make out on its hazy form, but it appeared to have a large block of some kind hanging from its neck. Guess that explains the depressed shoulders and extended neck. Like a garden vegetable growing under a fence post.

The catacomb itself was crawling with these fucking godsdamn gargoyle imps. They were fast, they were tough, and they hit like a truck. I'm not too proud to say, I died several times and had to retreat several more. They love to attack from weird angles, clinging to walls or lurking around blind corners. I'm more situationally aware than most, and for every ambush I anticipated, I'd miss two and end up in a fight for my life.

In the first room I found a dead noble with some root resin on him, which the voice helpfully informed me came from the roots of the Greattree, which once connected to the Erdtree. So if I interpret that right, whatever roots are down here no longer connect to that big shiny tree outside.

Bit further in, behind a flame trap, I found another noble with a strange toy whistle that sounds like a deep voice saying "hello."

"one of those things"

Speaking of flame, something occurred to me. I hadn't really thought much about it in the tomb I started in, but coming in here with a torch and seeing the flame from the trap made me realize something's strange about the flame here. Can't say I've ever seen white flame before, and bringing my hand near just made it colder. I couldn't find a way to douse it, otherwise I would've sampled the dark sludge fueling the flame.

Found yet another dead noble, this one clutching a burning butterfly. Not the first time I've found one of them, but the way he clutched it, like it was somehow precious to him. As for me, I was finally able to put Kalé's crafting kit to work and created a fire pot with that strange regenerating jar.

At the top of the catacomb, I found one last dead noble. At least, that's what I thought. Slumped against a large stone sarcophagus, he held in his hands a box of ashes. Ashes of other nobles. I'm really starting to notice a theme here.

Finally, I opened the way into the main chamber of the catacomb. There I found a creature that the voice called a "Burial Watchdog" but looked more like a cross between a cat and a monkey.

Seemed to be of the same construction as the stone imps, and just as much of a bastard. When it died, I found another spirit ash, this one holding the soul of a noble sorcerer who failed to achieve much at a place called Raya Lucaria academy.

Interesting name. An old name, that tickles the back of my brain. I've heard it before somewhere. Not here, but back in my old life, whatever that was. I'll see if I can jog my memory.

With the guardian dispatched, I got a good look at what it was guarding for the first time

Gods. I don't know what I was expecting when the spirit said "Erdtree burial" but it certainly wasn't this. Not to be culturally insensitive but how the hell can anyone think this is okay? Add a little fire and this is what I always thought Hell would look like. Maybe it wouldn't look so bad if the roots weren't cut off from the main tree, but as it stands, I had to turn away and retch.

Conclusion: The wandering nobles were searching for a place to die. They found it alright, but not how they hoped. The guardians made easy work of them, and they were ultimately denied even the grotesque burial they were hoping for. Only one of them made it through to the main chamber, where he gained the honor of being burned to ash by the Watchdog. A miserable end no matter how you slice it.

Some lingering questions:

Are all the nobles searching for death?

What's with the pale, cold flame?

What is the Greattree?

[sarandipitywrites]

find the word tag

thanks for the tag, @mjjune! go check out their snippets here. my words to find are destiny, dead, dry, door, and dang

passing the tag to @sageswriteblr, @writingamongther0ses, @moondust-bard, @zmwrites, @revenantlore, and an open tag if you want to play along! your words are impress, suppose, crawl, secret, and pop

as usual, these come from Dead Roots, Dark Water:

destiny fate

“Ah, well. Fate is not always kind, but we make do with what it gives us, ‘ey? And today, Fate brought you… to me.” Krew’s eyes fixed on him, one milkweed-bug-red and the other white and filmy as a termite. Jak stiffened. He searched Krew’s face for any tell, any indication of how this was about to end. Because this was it: the moment Sig had warned him of. When he found out if his stunt had annoyed Krew… or impressed him.

dead

"Torn's KG." "What?" Pain stabbed through his shoulder in synchrony with Daxter's shriek. He winced at both, rolling his shoulder. The day had to be catching up with him; his arm felt like it was made of eco ore instead of steel. "Used to be KG," he amended. Torn couldn't be KG, now — he was supposed to be dead, now. And the dead couldn't serve. Though if what Aster had told him about Project Walker was true, it wasn't for lack of trying.

dry

Voices in the cell block outside. Shouting. Clamoring. Jak jolted upright, threw his arm up, and squeezed his eyes shut. His muscles tensed. His nerves screamed. Blood hammered in his ears. The moment of impact came and went. No rifle butt. No shock stick. He eased his eyes open. Walls of stucco and wood, a window glowing with eco and magma. No metal. No searing lights. No bars. His heart stuttered and crawled up into his throat. It swelled there, squeezed with a strangled sound. "Jak? You with me?" Daxter sat beside him, the mattress dipping around his weight. Weight. Real. "We're at Brutter's house, in Babak Village. Four miles outta Haven. We came here last night, through the tunnel. Remember?" Jak swallowed his heart back down with a dry click. He breathed in, held it. "I remember. I'm fine. Sorry. I'm fine."

door

Ceres felt along a section of stucco above his head. A soft click carried down the alley, and a rectangle of wall depressed under his palm. The kid curled his fingers into the newly-formed handhold and pulled — to no effect. …No way. This wasn't what Daxter thought it was. But as he watched Jak help Ceres pull open the Makers-true secret door, no other explanation made any sense. Jak glanced back at Daxter. He tugged at the bottom of his scarf and, with a deep breath, squared his shoulders and followed boy and dog through the darkened doorway. In retrospect, he really should've guessed. Daxter sighed and made his way to the door. "Brutter, you fuzzy li'l anarchist."

dang damn

“Hovel, sweet hovel, eh kid?” Daxter stretched, spine popping like fury fire. “You had dinner yet? I think we still got— Jak, don’t give ‘im that, he’ll break his damn teeth.” Ceres, sensing impending food confiscation, tore into the wrapper and stuffed the ration bar into his mouth. Jak shrugged one shoulder, unwrapping another for himself. Too late, now. The kid bit off a piece and handed it to Moss, who sniffed it for only a moment before wrapping his lips around the morsel. Daxter’s eye twitched. “Heathens, all of you.”

[strahdapologist]

@churchyardgrim replied:

holy shit this sounds so wild 👀 👀 if you don’t mind infodumping, i’d love to hear more about the Azalin Rex and Lyssa von Zarovich plotline, bc i hardly ever see ppl use Lyssa in CoS and i’m so intrigued O:

;u; honestly they’re both underutilized and such interesting characters esp if you want to drag out the campaign beyond the adventure module. as a long term plan i want azalin to be a final big bad since a lich is just such an iconic villain. this is ofc after they deal with the dark powers in barovia and my amber temple replacement but i’m getting ahead of myself also to my players AVERT YOUR EYES.

a lot of this began with me needing ways to spice things up since the players were more inclined to be strahd’s friend in an attempt to break the curse rather than his enemy. as a tatyana reincarnation was among them, strahd was also less bloodthirsty as a result. i really want to play purely evil strahd one day, but strahd as a sort of frenemy of the party has been really hilarious not gonna lie. it also made losing tatyana sadder in the last session lmao anyway

all about azalin

it started as a running gag about azalin stealing strahd’s marble since the characters were like strahd why do you live in the dirt and i was like fuck it. azalin i guess

but that evolved into the idea of azalin actually resurrected our reborn character radu (and alek reincarnation) since that was left up to the dm to decide for the player. that snowballed into azalin pulling multiple strings behind the scenes because something that stood out to me in i, strahd: the war against azalin is just how much that lich hates strahd and wants barovia.

in my game now, azalin thinks strahd is unfit to rule because of his emotional attachment to tatyana. unable to expand his own magical prowess, azalin seeks power by taking over surrounding domains.

as he cannot leave darkon, he has been using sending spells/astral projection to set his plan in barovia in motion. over strahd’s depression nap, azalin was able to not only resurrect alek, but also recruit some allies within ravenloft who were unhappy with strahd’s moodswings.

he also rescued lyssa von zarovich from her medical coma, knowing she would be an ally he could count on.

he anticipated alek to be much more antagonistic against strahd, and was disappointed when radu eventually tried to become strahd’s best friend, so he decided to target tatyana instead to hurt strahd and push him back into his depression and allow azalin to plant his own puppets in ravenloft

with tatyana’s death, he has successfully taken over ravenloft via zoom essentially

everything lyssa von zarovich

according to the lore, lyssa is a talented necrologist and inventor of the vampiric mindflayer, so i brought mindflayer variants into barovia.

it was connected to a player’s backstory, who found out the reason his old gang turned on itself and killed many of its own was in exchange for psionic abilities, granted to them thanks to lyssa von zarovich who was able to induce a state of semi-ceremorphosis.

baldur’s gate 3 helped in terms of ideas in this regard lol but the deathlock bandits as they are now called are a part of lyssa’s growing army of mindflayer mutants and vampiric mindflayers which she has been making in the furthest regions of barovia, just outside of strahd’s reach

another player character’s yaya was nearly turned into a mindflayer, but van richten was able to stop the process.

lyssa is currently azalin’s proposed new ruler of barovia alongside some of strahd’s court (consorts in the original adventure) which has chosen to betray him

my plan is for lyssa to be the big boss at the end of a vicious dungeon crawl through the crypts of ravenloft as the gang needs to retake the castle and i am EXCITED to run this next section of the campaign

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

can i maybe request the following? : it’s the reader and reiner’s 1 year anniversary so they go to a nice walk in the park and/or get lunch/dinner. i don’t know bsjkdjd but reading your wholesome headcanons makes me so happy !!

Hi! Sorry it took so long for me to answer but I wanted to finish the Reiner's proposal request before this since they kinda match🌸

And yeah I'd love to do some Reiner only content💖 my guy been watching the kids a lot he deserves a romantic break.

Reiner celebrating your 1st anniversary

{ Reiner x reader | tw: mentions of depression, tw:therapy | romance, fluff | modern }

{ "the glory of the morning" by Thomas Edwin Mostyn 1864-1930 }

It's a special day, that was the first thought that Reiner had when he woke up that morning. He never had a special day to look forward to before. It's a nice feeling to have one, he found out.

Already a full year huh? Time really flies by fast.

Maybe it was his subconscious projecting what he wants into reality, or maybe the universe also agreed for it to be a special day. It doesn't matter really, because when he looked at your still sleeping figure, the yellow and orange sunlights making you almost glow, he felt his heart flutter.

You woke up with a kiss that day.

Both of you have a vague plan on how to spend the day, that's why he's making some sandwiches right now while you sort the utensils in the basket.

Out of habit, he cuts the crust off and only notices it when you point it out.

The weather is a little chilly when you reach the park, the warm sun giving you a bit of comfort.

It's a comfortably quiet walk, you're holding hands and he occasionally forgets the beautiful lake view right next to him only to stare at you instead.

Neither of you is in a hurry, you have the full day for yourselves to enjoy since Zeke's planning on taking Gabi and the rest to the park today, he was really excited to teach them to play baseball.

You look at Reiner, he's wearing a yellow sweater, you think it looks good on him.

After you finish your walk and get enough fresh air, you both settle down under the orange tree at the end of the lake. Some orange blossoms just started to bloom between the leaves, you hope they'll survive till spring arrives.

One topic leads to another and you find yourselves talking about the past, when you first met, the place and time, how you felt at that moment.

What were you wearing, how exactly did you start a conversation and interact, who made the first move and who said I love you first.

Your first day of moving in together, your first fight and how you made up after it.

You remember meeting his cousins for the first time, each one of them having a different reaction to him introducing you as his date. They didn't like you at first, and just yesterday you were building a pillow fort together in the living room.

Has it really been that long?

You look at Reiner, recalling the time you first saw him. The bags under his eyes significantly improved, his lips now have an up curve to them and his eyes seem full of life, completely opposite to when you first met.

You think about all the things he mentally struggled with, the first time you comforted him after a nightmare, the first time he had a breakdown in front of you.

You remember being by his side in his first therapy appointment, it took you a lot of support and patient to convince him to go. You remember holding his hand as he cried on your shoulder in the cab while going home that day.

And now, you can't even recall the last time he skipped a meal or had a really serious panic attack. Yes he still has some really dark days when his old habits crawl back to him like a comfort blanket, but he's far more cooperative and trusting of you when you try to help now.

He's smiling again, he can experience all emotions again. To be happy, sad, surprised, excited, worried and calm again.

It took a lot of tries and errors, changing therapists and trying different methods. In the end, you can see how it all was worth it when he looks at you with a smile on his face before pulling you closer.

After eating the food that he prepared, both of you lay back and look at the morning sky. The clouds moving slowly with the wind, a couple of orange blossoms fall from the tree.

They smell really nice, a couple fall directly into Reiner's hair and you don't think about removing them.

A game of guessing the clouds shapes takes place between you two, some are really adorable shapes, others are complicated and some are funny.

His thumb trace over your ring finger, he rolls the ring around before taking your hand in his. His eyes don't leave the clouds as he brings it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss.

"You know, whenever I looked at my future it always seemed so...blurry. sometimes even just blank." He says against your hand, "but now, for once It's more clear, you're in it and it doesn't seem bad....the opposite actually."

The rest of the day gets spent by with you leaning against the tree, his head on your lap as you play with his hair, occasionally eating fruits you packed together.

And for a split second there, the world is okay.

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue Thing - Part Three

This is a JJ Maybank story

-

Warnings!: swearing and mentions of abuse

-

     I wake up alone. Not only without JJ, but also without Kiara. I’m confused until I smell it... breakfast? It can’t be. Throwing myself out of bed, I dress myself and prepare myself for the brightness outside this room. “Ah there she is!” John B smiles. Before I can even react. a bit of toast bounces off of my head. All I can do is shut my eyes. I’m not even a fully functioning human yet. “Thanks,” I slide my feet across the floor, all the way to the couch. “Nice sleep?” Kiara chuckles, handing me an ‘in tact’ piece of toast. “It was alright.” I shrug. Internally I feel giddy. “You looked like you were pretty deep into it,” she adds. I was. She’s absolutely right. “I bet she was,” the husky morning voice of JJ erupts as he comes out of the bathroom. “Especially after last night.” His words get linked with a wink, followed by my heart stopping. “Yeah I’m sorry about that guys...” I flash my eyes straight over to John B. I’m definitely overthinking everything. Why would anyone even think JJ and I would ever? We wouldn’t. I guess that’s not true anymore. Either way, I’m fully awake now. “I didn’t realize it would be such a dead end.” Kiara’s hand cups John B’s shoulder in attempt to comfort. The blend of pain and disappointment in his voice was radiating through him. I wish there was another way; an easier way. “We just need to look closer. I’m sure there’s something,” I lie. “Are we sure there’s anything to find at all?” I throw my bread at the jackass. “JJ!” Ki follows. “You’re just pissed ‘cause I’m being honest. I’m sorry John, but what are we going on again?” I decide to stay quiet. “It doesn’t hurt to look again-” “You guys do what you want.”

     Not fully sure why, I rush my shoes on and follow the boy storming away. I feel somewhat protective over him. It’s a strange feeling. “JJ! Wait!” I call, jogging to catch up with him. He hardly slows. The anger was pretty much radiating off of his body. “If you’re here to-” “I’m here because I agree with you,” he pauses and frowns. “Even if there’s nothing, we still have to try.” Saying those words aloud feels like betrayal. I wish I had the guts to say what I thought, just like JJ, but there’s a time and a place. And both of those were wrong in that moment. “It’s false hope.” His words are blunt. “I know,” I whisper. I smooth my hair back with my hands. “You- he needs this JJ.” As he nods, he rolls his eyes. “He’s my best friend Y/N-” “I know JJ, but you just need to be a little more sensitive.” Once again, he rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just can’t lie to him,” shrugging, I realize this will continue to go in circles. “Fine,” I give up. A little frustrated, I turn around and start walking back to John B’s. “Where are you going?” I turn around quickly. I can’t help but frown at him. Like a dog, I tilt my head slightly to the side. “I thought we could grab some breakfast?” “I- what?” “I can tell you’re pissed.” Wow. Is it that obvious? I guess I don’t hide my emotions very well. “We ate at John’s...” I don’t know if I want to eat with him right now. “No. I didn’t eat, and you threw yours at me. Come on,” he nods and walks away from me. That’s it? And of course I follow him. I can’t not. 

     The walk was too quiet. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it had the ‘do I speak now or not’ vibe. When we get to a table in a small cafe, I sit opposite him slowly. “You can’t be that mad at me...” He chuckles slightly. Then comes the smirk. I didn’t know a look could do so many things to a person. It makes me want to slap him so bad. It also just makes me smile. “I’ll buy the food?” He tempts. “Do I even want to know where you get your money from?” The top and bottom lip press together on the boy’s face. “Probably not, you’re a good girl,” he winks. 

     Food. The boy truly knows me. So once that glorious breakfast spread was displayed in front of me - those exquisite eggs, the beautiful bacon, that tasty ass toast - he was forgiven. No grudges. I don’t even remember why I was even annoyed at him. “Wow,” is all I can express. Only a very small number of things can make me speechless. This is at the top of that list. “I know, I’m amazing,” he nods with a smug look on his face. Even when he’s joking about it, he always looks incredibly pleased with himself. I wish I had his confidence... or arrogance. Which either one it is, it works for him. Which is an utter shame. 

     We both indulged in every bite. Our plates looked both new and pristine. I am entirely and completely stuffed, and yet - if someone offered it to me - I could probably eat more. Although, I would definitely be sick. “That was so fucking good,” I let out in a ‘little too sexual’ of a moan. “That’s hot,” he informs me. God he’s so annoying. “Don’t even try it, JJ,” I wave my fork towards him. My threat just causes his to smirk. “So, what do you wanna do now?” A pleading smile gleams across his face. It’s not like me to give in to such tendencies. I just cannot seem to help it when it comes to JJ. “You don’t wanna go back to your boyfriend’s?” I tease. “Not really,” he shrugs. “I need a break from all that crime shit for today.” I don’t blame him. I hate to say it, but it brings an awkward and depressing atmosphere. I do feel bad for John B, but it’s too much if it’s all the time. A break, as selfish as it sounds, is what I need for today.

      As I stand up from my seat, my eyes immediate lock to the next customers walking through the door. Topper and Rafe. All I can think to do is sit back down. Just before my body starts zoning out, I hear JJ’s voice. “What are you doing?” He laughs in confusion. I haven’t been very open about mine and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ at all. I hate to even call it that. They know that he was a dick, which is the biggest understatement of the century, and they know we had a pretty awful break up. That’s it. At least I wish that was it. 4 months isn’t long enough to heal after... him. It’s just not. He’s mentally, emotionally, and literally physically everywhere. I nod my head, hinting at him to turn around. “Ah.” Is all he says. Rafe sends an obvious smirk to Topper, before making a straight line towards me and JJ. “Hey beautiful,” my skin crawls at his words. He makes me so angry, but I struggle to find the words to say. “What do you want Rafe?” I let out in a harsh tone. I wish I could scream at him, and just call him out on every single thing, but I can’t. Fuck. “Just here for something to eat,” he raises his eyebrows and smirks, placing a heavy hand on JJ’s shoulder. He doesn’t even budge, just lets an annoyed smile spread across his face. Topper chuckles at his best friend’s revolting sexual innuendo. “Why are you such a little bitch?” JJ nudges Topper on his side. It was just a poke, but it sent Topper moving. “What did you just call me?” Topper moves back towards him. JJ shoots up out of his chair. “You heard me, I don’t think you can move much further up his ass,” I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. “Can we just go?” His eyes just stare into Topper’s, while Rafe looks proudly at his boy. “JJ...” I wrap my hand around his forearm and pull slightly. “Fine.” Just as I get the boy to move away from the scene, Rafe decides to make the comment, “Who’s the bitch now?!” As you can expect, JJ does a 180 and darts back towards the two assholes. A fist hits my ex’s face. 

“God JJ,” I raise my voice slightly at the boy, sucking in my sad emotions. If anything I’m annoyed at myself for not being to stick up for myself. It’s just so hard to see him, let alone hear his voice. And to communicate with him? It feels almost impossible. “Why are you annoyed at me?” He snaps. “I’m not, I just wish you’d know when to leave things alone,” I roll my eyes. “I’m not your bitch Y/N.” I ignore him. I know he’s not. I realise I am probably projecting my frustration out now, and taking it out on someone who is very easy to argue with. “No, you don’t even fucking listen to me.” I speed up my walk. There are several things I need to do; breathe is the first one, then probably punch something or someone, then cry. Crying sounds like a plan. Footsteps inch closer and closer behind me. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just-” “I know.” I stop him. If he asks that question, the question I have avoided since the break up, I will break down. Fragile is an understatement. I’m like a bird with a broken wing, or a dried out twig ready to snap. One little gush of wind and I’m done. I will break. “Did something else happen, with you and Rafe?”

flashback

I made a joke. That’s it. I was caught up in the moment, and made a joke that he didn’t find funny. I could tell. He didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice. He just stayed silent. His face just dropped. He’s pissed. He’s pissed at me. There was no retaliation, solely because his friends were around. Topper was there. There were other’s there. Now there’s not. I’m fucked. 

“Look, Rafe, I didn’t mean-” “You didn’t mean it? All you do it fucking embarrass me! You always mean it!” He shouts. The rasp in his voice startles me, and instantly pushes the tears out of my eyes. I’m scared. I’m scared of him. I’m scared for me. “I was just joking around, I-I-I-I” I stutter. The words pause as I get pushed against the counter. The harsh corner stabs into my back, making me fall to the floor in pain. I sit quietened by the wind being pushed out of my body. My mouth stays wide in agonizing pain, but my scream is silent. There’s no weep. There’s not a cry. Just tears falling down my now heated cheeks. I take a deep inhale of breath. I have no strength, emotional or physical, to get myself off of the floor. I can’t... Not on my own. Rafe’s face sits in the sight of my blurred eyes, as he places himself in front of me. “I don’t know why you always do this baby,” his fingers, which were previously on harsh hands, caress my chin softly. A thumb wipes my tears. Instead of pushing him away like I should, I nuzzle my hand into his hand. I’ve made enough mistakes tonight. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. A set of lips go to my forehead. 

“Y/N...” A soft voice snaps me back to reality. That was early days. It wasn’t even bad then. I cough slightly. How awkward. “Did he hurt you?” He asks, in a tone I don’t know if I’ve ever heard JJ use. It was gentle and careful, and had meaning behind it. Despite JJ being an idiot, I trust JJ with my life. Literally. But this... I can’t tell anybody about it. Not a soul. “He broke my heart JJ,” honestly, I’m not sure if I lied to JJ or not. I don’t ever remember loving that guy. I must’ve. 

We head back to John B’s. Everyone other than Pope was still there. John was looking at the research his father gathered, and combining it with the little amount we’ve managed to find. Ki was cleaning his shitty place up. She’s way to good to that boy sometimes. Somehow, no matter how many times it gets cleaned, it’s always a huge mess. “Where did you guy’s go?” Luckily, with the long-ish walk back, we no longer look stressed. “We got breakfast,” I throw myself onto the couch. John B looks up from his pages and raises his eyebrows. “You never take me to breakfast!” He throws his hand over his heart, clearly in pain. “You’re not as good company as me John, just accept it.” “Did you pay for it?” Kiara asks. I immediately sit up, snapping my head to the boy as I realise. “You little thief,” JJ says before I can even speak. “No I-” “Damn Y/N, I must be rubbing off on you, finally.”

[achliegh]

Grounded

Okay SO I really like Leo, I resonate with him as a character and his personality is like mine yet he is actually a good person. I don’t really know how to write happy, lovey-Dovey shit it makes me very uncomfortable and I just can’t. SO imma make this boy suffer but its just me projecting okay. Sorry Leo I Love you. Please read at your own risk, this is not an easy angst and can trigger people. Most of this is me venting through my own struggles in life and how I have handled them.

CW/TW: Food, Past Abusive relationship, Anxiety, Depression, Panic Attack, past age difference relationship (Illegal)

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Besides Luka, I made him up, don’t care for him tho

Coming off the ice with everyone was unusual to say the least, every normal day Leo would stay and practice with Kasey and their goalie coach. The Goalie Coach was sick and so was all their family. So today Leo and Kasey got off early and were able to shower and mess around with the other guys. Leo was so excited to drive home with his boys, he couldn’t stop smiling.

After a cool down, a shower and a few towel snaps to his ass from a rambuncis Kuny and James, they were walking out of the locker room to the players lounge. A “ding” came from Leo's phone and he went to look but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw coach Arthur talking to someone who looked very familiar. They were laughing at something Coach said, his boys looked back to him and Logan raised an eyebrow as Finn followed Leo's gaze.

“Shit” Leo went to move his hands to grab his hair but forgot his phone was in his hand and dropped it. His phone landed loudly on the floor making everyone look at him, but the only person he saw was Luka. Luka was Leo’s Ex-Boyfriend, they started dating when Leo was only 15 and Luka was 19, he used Leo as a toy! He made him do things he didn’t want to and act in a way that was cruel and he hurt him, in more ways than one. And… Leo thought he loved him. Looking back on everything he realized that this wasn’t a healthy relationship but it was his first real relationship.

“Leo?” Luka was staring at him surprised for a moment then an evil smirk started to slowly spread across his face. He was stupidly gorgeous and that was how he tricked people into relationships. His sharp brown eyes, his light hair practically white from bleach with his dark eyebrows, his giant muscular arms covered in tattoos and one of those just happen to be a Leo constellation. Leo was gonna be sick.

He could feel himself holding his breath practically waiting for something to cause him to crash. He knew his eyes were panicked so he decided to go complete goalie, no emotion, just nothing. He picked up his phone dusting it off and looked at his boys. Logan was concerned and Finn was just outright confused.

“You two know each other?” Finn asked when Leo finally met his eye, he had never mentioned anything about this guy or shown them pictures like he did with all his other friends back home. Yeah there were very few friends back home but maybe he only had a few friends! Finn never thought that Leo would have hid a whole person from them. Finn looked back at this man and saw this smirk, it was almost seductive and he was looking Leo up and down as if he was this guy's next meal. Then it clicked, this had to be an ex or maybe a one night stand, they knew Leo had the most sexual experience so it was plausible. But why Hide him?

Logan stepped towards Leo not having noticed Luka at all and put a hand on his forearm. Leo full on flinched away and so did Logan. Logan had seen Leo have panic attacks and knew when he needed contact and when he needed to be alone based on his mental state. Looking into his boyfriend's eyes, he needed to be alone. He turned and looked at Finn who was analysing the new guy so he grabbed Leo's hand slowly and started leading him out the door and towards the car. This caught Finn's attention and he followed them as they all silently got into the car.

Leo had completely shut down; he couldn’t think, speak, breath, or really do anything without feeling like he was 15 again. He shut everything out and put in his airpods turning his music up as loud as he could so no one could ask him questions. He gripped his sweatpants through his pockets where he stuffed his hands to keep from fidgeting and closed his eyes.

Finn reached for Logan's hand and squeezed it looking back at their boyfriend and then back at him. “I think that guy and Leo have a past.”

“From Leo's reaction I can guess that it wasn’t a good past.”

“Should we try to talk to him about this or should we wait until he talks to us?” Finn started the car and started driving back to the apartment but the only thing on his mind were the millions of questions slamming around. “What did you think about that guy?” he pulled into the parking garage and was looking for a spot.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to him. I was trying to figure out how I should approach Leo in a way that wouldn’t send him spiraling.” he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as Finn pulls into a parking spot. Leo was out the door so fast and he took the stairs up to the apartment instead of the elevator. The two left in the vehicle looked at each other for a second then both got out and ran after their boy. When they finally got to the apartment the door was still open and they could hear reaching sounds from the hallway bathroom.

Panicked Finn closed the door after them and grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen as Logan ran into the bathroom. Logan knelt next to Leo who had his arms crossed over the seat of the toilet with his forehead resting on his forearms. He was shaking in small tremors as everything, all the memories all the hurt came flooding back to him at once. Logan tried to set a comforting hand on his back.

Leo scrambled away wiping his mouth fitting his giant body into the small space between the toilet and the bathtub, curling in on himself raising his hands to block his face. “Don’t touch me! Don’t hurt me!” he started sobbing covering his face with his hands as Logan and Finn watched with their hearts hurting.

Both of them were wondering what happened to Leo to cause this. This level of fear wasn’t caused by a bad break up or a terrible one night stand. This was intense and made both of them sick with sadness. After about an hour Leo finally started calming down and the boys never left his side but also gave him space.

“Leo, baby it's Finn.” He came further into the bathroom from where he was standing in the doorway. He took the cap off the water bottle and was holding it out to Leo not wanting to trigger Leo again. Leo looked out from behind his hands at him and his heart broke with Leo's wide scared eyes being the brightest blue he’d ever seen, even with a puffy face and red rimmed eyes Leo still tugged at Finn's heart in a good way. It almost made him feel guilty because Leo was struggling right now. “ Can you drink some of this for me please?” He held the water a little closer to him and Leo took it, shakily, he took a chug big enough to empty half the bottle.

Just from that one drink Leo started to feel queasy all over again, still breathing hard but slowly coming back to himself, he needed to hear and feel his boys to ground him. He reached for Finn, dropping the water bottle and having it spill on the ground as he pulled himself out of his small space and into Finn's arms, gripping him like a lifesaver in the middle of the ocean. “Please say something, anything, I don’t care” He looked up to logan from over finns shoulder and reached for him as well.

“Why don’t we go get changed and get into bed mon coeur?” Logan grabbed his hand and was looking right into Leo’s soul, he felt himself nod because he was going to start crying again because of how much love he was slowly remembering he had. They stood him up slowly, he didn’t realize it but they must have flushed the toilet during his panic because he only saw clean now. They took him out of his clothes and laid him in bed in just his underwear, as requested, Skin on skin was needed right now. They crawled into bed, Leo rested his head on Finn's shoulder intertwining their hands as Logan laid his head on his chest. “We love you mon soleil” Logan would whisper to him over and over.

“We love you forever” Finn would run his thumb over Leo's hand and whisper into his hair.

Leo decided that these two lovely boys needed to know what happened and Leo needed to let them know for their own safety. He had been talking to Heather about this stuff for the year he was with the lions but it never felt like enough. He knew the boys had noticed his odd behavior, jumping when the phone rang or a door slammed too hard, anyone raising their voice around him (especially those two), and always apologizing as soon as one of them looked slightly annoyed.

“His name was Luka, the guy Arthur was talking to. He’s my Ex and…” he trailed off his hand that was tracing patterns on Logans back stilling as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “He has done a lot of bad things to me, I mean we started dating when he was 19, he is four years older than me. So, I felt like I needed to do everything he said I mean I was just a kid! I lost my virginity to him! I would do anything he told me to, whether it was something I was comfortable with or not. He.. he would threaten or hit me if I didn’t do what he said. I learned to do everything he said and momma was so scared for me but I was an idiot and believed I could handle myself. She never saw the bruises but she knew something was happening. I-I couldn’t take it anymore and I ran away from him one night and he said he would always know where I am and whose in my life and I never wanted anyone to feel trapped with me so that was the other reason why I never watched to get attached to anyone at all when I got drafted even though it was a year after I left him. Seeing him today-” everything came spilling out like he couldn’t stop and he was crying again with sobs wracking his body as his boys clung to him in a desperate plea to prove he was safe.

“Leo, we will always be there for you no matter what. We will protect you.” Logan was talking in a slow soothing voice as he wiped away his tears and kissed his forehead. “Nothing changes the way we love you” Finn was squeezing his hand and had tears pricking his own eyes as everything Leo spilled to them was just setting into his mind. HIS Leo was treated that way by a man the same age as he is. Finn couldn’t imagine treating anyone like that.

“We don’t make you feel trapped, do we? I mean we are the same age as him, but I want you to know that I could never hurt you like that Leo, I can’t even think about something like that happening to you.” A few tears fall as he wraps his free arm around both his boys holding tightly.

"I'm so happy you told us Peanut" Logan saw the tiniest smile at the pet name. "I won't ever let him touch you again! If we ever make you feel like that in any way please tell us"

“You could never make me feel that, I feel the safest I have in a long time with you two. You keep me grounded.”

[namjoonchronicles]

healing | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship ↳ words 1.9k ↳ summary Yoongi maybe the worst in projecting his emotions, but his actions don’t lie ↳ warning suggestive content ↳ song james arthur ‘let me love the lonely’ ‘safe inside’ ‘can i be him’ ‘certain things’

“I would do anything to forget.” “And I would do anything to remember.”

The second male lead actor bore a wounded expression on his handsome face. The female lead actress was unapologetic and relentless to his heart. She swore that forgetting that she ever loved him is the only way to go on with her life. But the actor finally remembered all the love they had before he loses his memories as a result of an accident orchestrated by his step mother. He pretended to not remember just to know how she really felt about him. She said enough. Yoongi gawks at the screen. “Does that even make sense? How can he stay silent after that? How can he be okay with just that? What a load of bull--” His phone vibrates just as he is about to curse. With his wife’s picture flashing on the screen, he wipes his hand on his flannels and refastened the velcro straps of his arms to secure them back on. “Hello?”

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing?” “Watching that episode was a mistake, why would they ruin the story like that, everything was going just fine, I don’t understand…” You chuckled at your husband’s adorable whines, and “How far in were you?” “Joonsoo told Bora that he wanted to remember…Ah! I am so upset, I am not going to watch the rest of the episode… I don’t care…” “But you have to see what happens after that! A little spoiler for you…” you sang and he replied, “Ah! Ah, no. Don’t tell me what happens. No!” “She knew that Joonsoo’s memories came back, but she is doing that to follow Joonsoo’s mother's instructions…” you told him anyways. Yoongi leans back into his chair and it wobbles back and forth at his weight. He swiveled away from the screen, holding the phone close to his ear and he sighed out loud. “Why did you call me?” “I am just walking out a fried chicken hawker stall and was wondering if you’d like some but I remember your doctor saying you can’t have oily food… so that’s cancelled.” His wife is a tease. All she does is tease. Yoongi left his home studio and walked down the hallway to the living room. He then revealed to you that he found your gastric medication laying around the cabinet with several pills gone. Yoongi had always been so attentive towards things like these. Ever since he had to stay home longer than usual because of his shoulder surgery, he is policing you around with his keen eyes. He found out that you don’t really take care of yourself as well as you told him you were. There were antacids, antiemetics and all kinds of painkillers he found in the medicine cabinet that weren't his. This was alarming, at least to Yoongi. “You’re telling me that you crawled to work despite having gastric two days prior?” he scolded you with a low monotonous voice, pinky pushing the blisters away to see just how much you’ve been taking behind his back. “It’s nothing to worry about, it’ll go away soon… I learn endurance from the best,” you pushed your tongue to cheek, leisuring down the pedestrian walk area, pouting hard at your husband. “You’re talking back at me,” he scoffs, “I taught you that? I guess it's fair… Have you eaten?” You didn’t eat because you don’t have the appetite. After the gastric attack happened, you have been vomiting every time you ate, and your throat burns every time from the acid reflux. “Eating is terrifying…” you confessed. Yoongi poked his head into the refrigerator after the call ended. He took out leek, dried lavers, and whatever he could find in the fridge to start a small dinner. And he did them all with one hand. It wasn’t easy. The carrots were roughly chopped and the potatoes are barely peeled properly. It’s the best dish to take after gastric. He took a couple cups of rice and had them washed under running water. He measured the water and threw in a thumb-sized ginger so it got cooked together. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he really enjoys cooking. He was raised in a house that always belittled women's chores and because of the whole ‘boys shouldn’t cook’ agenda, he was more curious than ever in the kitchen. It comes naturally to him. He would secretly help his mom cook and prepare food to sell in school during the day. It remains one of the memories he is most fond of. He doesn’t really like telling people out loud how he feels. It was something  you both had in common. Coming together was difficult. It was like a race to the end, who will clamor up or who will fall apart faster, to you. Yoongi was determined to keep his emotions sealed in his dungeon called heart. Which was ridiculous, because everyone knows, the more you try to hide your feelings, the louder it is. He doesn’t say ‘I love you’ like normal people. His ‘I love you’s’ are scattered all around you. It was in the walls he painted and in the bookshelf he helped build. It’s in the picture of the milky way he took and in the pile of bandages he bought you when you sprained your ankle. They say, the eyes are windows to the soul. Yoongi had never looked you in the eye. It’s like he runs away from the things he wants the most. It almost made you give up. Seeing how the feelings aren’t verbally reciprocated almost made you leave. Winter, several years ago, “For Yoongi-hyung, you have to force it out of him…” Taehyung advised. “I don’t want to force him…” you sighed, “What if he does this to all his girl friends?” Taehyung stared at you dead in the eye with a cunning smile. “What does your heart tell you?” He asked. “My heart had been wrong before,” You shot back. Taehyung suddenly turned his attention to his phone, his face shone by the light from the screen and he smirked, “If he doesn’t, would he be running all the way up here at this time?” Just then, Yoongi bursted through the door. Chest heaving up and down, eyes blown wide, mouth gaping. His eyes darted to Taehyung and then to you. “You know he won’t leave his bed for anything…” Taehyung glances at you with a knowing smile, “What could this mean?” He feigned a surprised face at you and walked towards the door at Yoongi. And even then, he wouldn’t confess. “You love me, right?” you asked him. “It’s already so late…” “Please answer me…” He appeared conflicted. “Min Yoongi, you don’t love me?” “I… Let’s not do this…” “I think you do… Everyone knows you love me, everybody. Everyone, but you…” “Let’s talk in the morning…” At that time, Yoongi is afraid of commitment despite never really having problems actually committing. His past relationship didn’t go so well because he felt inadequate. And for that, he feared karma. He left the last one because he didn’t think he could be a good person for her. He was bound by depression, crippling sadness and fear so great, it left him in shambles. Being in a relationship back then made him feel like a boulder to a smooth sailing ship. He felt dragged along. He was responsible for two hearts and it felt a lot at the time. He knows just how much hurt he caused her and he knows that karma will come after him. That’s why when he fell for you, his first reaction was to be defensive. He doesn’t want the same hurt to happen to you. Because, what if he hurts you?

“And if I tell you I don’t care?”

The winter arrived on schedule this year. You shivered as you walked into your house. Yoongi is still in the kitchen, turning off the stove. “You didn’t rest like I told you to!” “How could I if you were not eating… I rested for a surgery and couldn’t cook ever since I returned, and you are already getting gastric from not eating…” You helped Yoongi carry the soup on the table. And you scooped him his rice. He was right. Your appetite went down ever since you had to cook on your own. His cooking has always been the thing you look forward to when you return home, but now, you don’t feel like eating because it’s always the same food over and over again. “Does it taste good?” He asked, lovingly. His eyes oozing fondness. “So-very good…” you said with a mouthful. “I have to shower after this… I am sweating so much,” he spoke to his bowl of rice. You unbuttoned his shirt and carefully slid the long sleeves down his arm. You keep glancing up his face to see if he is in any type of discomfort. His ears were the first to turn bright red and he had been biting his lower lip ever since you started undressing him. That wasn’t alarming. The strange thing about Yoongi is that he giggles or laughs when he is in pain. No giggles is fine. No smiles are good. By the time you took off his flannel buttoned up shirt, his face was bright red like he had been drinking whiskey. You couldn't help but smile when he gets sheepish like this. He looks like a sheep ready for the slaughter room. Next thing to come off is his trousers. The bath is ready and he climbs in. You went to the cabinet and showed him two bath bombs he could choose from. He wanted the lavender one. You always liked how it smells. Yoongi sat docile in the middle of the bath, while you swept his hair back and dabbed his face with a dampened towel. Then you move to his back and wipe along the spine, carefully avoiding harsh movements around the stitches on his shoulder. “The stitches are coming together nicely,” you spoke in whispers. Just the sound of the water dripping into the pool was heard. Yoongi let out an encouraging, “Is it…” “The skin around it is not swollen, and its closing up prettily,” you gushed, “At this rate you can start physical therapy around next month...?” “That’s nice to hear…” He hums happily, “I had been feeling rather helpless, and shackled, and unable to work at the speed I used to.” “Hence,” you started with a scolding tone, “Take care of yourself better from today onwards. Everyone frets around you, worried and bustling over you. Coddling you like a baby…when you get hurt like this, you worry everyone. Why did you keep quiet about this pain for so long…This type of perseverance is inhumanly. What are you… a saint?” He chuckles. You took off your own shirt and garments. Yoongi mashed his lips together, stealing glances on your body and when you climbed in the same tub and started washing yourself, he started to gather all the foams. “That’s why, stop hurting yourself…” you repeated your warning, unhooking your bra and throwing it on the marble floor next to your crumpled heap of blouses and trousers. Yoongi sighs. Loudly this time. “What is it now…” you blinked at him. “I want to get well faster… I missed unhooking your bras with my own hands…” 

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Copyright © January 6th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are free!

[herohotline]

“Why Would You Want Me?”

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso/You

Summary: Telling the story of how you and Hitoshi became friends, how he doesn’t know how to deal, and how you fall for him anyways.

Word Count: 2,300+

A/N: i kinda went fuckin OFF on this one. Hopefully, yall like all the small things i put in!

Boredom. 

That’s what Shinso felt most days- boredom and a constant ache in his jaw that begged him to yawn. There’s another feeling there, lingering around the back of his mind that makes him drag his feet and look at the tile when he walks in crowded hallways. It’s something similar to depression, and if that’s what it is- he supposes it was only a matter of time. 

He knows better than anyone else that he’s playing a part in his own apathetic and withdrawn behavior. Shinso knows that life could- would- be better than this if he tried a little harder, but he couldn’t find the effort in him to do so. 

His heart yearns for the life of a hero. But his mind? It’s so stuck in his own misery that he can’t do a thing other than continue to go to classes he’s too smart for and talk to people he borderline hates.

But then there’s you- and you’re a big fat question mark in Shinso’s life. You’re quiet and reserved, much like him, but there’s a light in your eyes that his own lack. This is General Studies, so he doesn’t even know your quirk- but he’s sure that you know his. Everyone does. 

Everyone hates him. He’s sure that you do, too. So he pays you no mind and goes on with his day, each one just as boring as the last- at least that’s what he tries to do. 

You take the first initiative- you actually talk to him. He’s vaguely aware that a group project has been assigned in the class, but he usually doesn’t pay it any mind since no one ever dares to pair up with him. But you hold out your hand and introduce yourself in such a normal way that he can’t help but look at you strangely. 

“What?” He asks you, purposefully. It’s practically a challenge. Would you answer him, take the chance of him hijacking your head? Or would you run away like everyone else?

You don’t even stutter or hesitate. “I said I’d like to be your partner. I think we’d do a good job.” Your hand goes back to your side once you realize he isn’t going to shake it. “Will you be my partner?”

Of course he doesn’t use his quirk on you- he never does. Shinso continues to stare at you as if you’re going to change your mind at any second and turn around. You don’t- so he does the only thing he can do in a situation like this. 

“Alright.”

He agrees. 

---

“Why’d you talk to me?” Shinso asks one day during your study session together for the project. The two of you sat quietly in the library, a board on the table you shared that you taped pretty blue paper on. 

“I needed a partner,” you don’t even spare him a glance. “And I was sick of you looking like that.”

He doesn’t even know what you mean but he frowns, offended. “Like what?”

“Like you’d rather die than spend another second in that classroom,” you purse your lips as you look at your handiwork, leaning back with a concentrated hum. You stick out your hand and wiggle your fingers- subconsciously he hands you the stickers. “You always look like that. I can take a good guess as to why, so I thought I’d do the least I could do and not leave you alone.”

“So you asked me out of pity?”

“Pretty much, yeah. What do you think?” You finally look at him, pointing at the board. Shinso squints at you, looking absolutely disgusted. 

“It looks like a second-grader put it together.”

“Fuck you, man!” You immediately shout at him, not even considering the fact that you’re both in a library. 

Shinso finds that he loves your blunt and carefree personality. No one has ever told him to fuck off in a library before- and he finds that he likes the way it makes him snort and laugh right in your face. 

---

Together, you earn the first non-perfect score Shinso has ever made since entering U.A. He should be upset, but he’s not. Especially since you continue to talk to him even after the assignment is done. 

He likes that you stick around, that you never hesitate to answer his questions, and that you never let him off the hook. You’re always calling him out- it’s small things like forgetting to bring a lunch and letting his hair grease up from not taking a shower- small things that show you care about him at least a little bit. 

You care about him enough to nag, so inevitably, Shinso finds himself caring about you, too. 

---

The two of you hang out in your dorm when classes aren’t scheduled. You tried hanging out in Shinso’s once, but it was so ‘boring’ to you that you just went to yours instead- Shinso really didn’t care either way. Most of the time you play games on your TV as Shinso read some of your comics. It was a nice, relaxing downtime that he never had before, so even though you both don’t talk he thinks that’s okay. 

You’re playing another dumb otome game today, something Shinso never fails to roll his eyes at you for as he pretends to throw up. You promptly tell him to go fuck himself as you keep dating the flashy, dramatic anime men on screen. 

“Who’s your favorite?” He finally finds it in himself to ask. There’s a reason you like these games, right? 

“Haru, hands down. I would gladly ride him and he would thank me afterward because he’s fucking gentlemanly like that.”

“You’re disgusting,” Shinso grows a look of disgust and sits himself down next to you, looking at the screen with a scowl. “Is that him?”

“No, this is Maru. He’s okay, I guess. I’m just trying to get achievements.”

“...Do they all have the same name like that?”

“...Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Look, this is a judgment-free zone, okay!” You flush in embarrassment and Shinso grins- a Cheshire cat sort of grin. “This is Haru.”

The first thing he notices is Haru’s wavy, purple hair. His eyes widen and he can’t help but ask, “really?” 

“No, I’m absolutely fucking with you. This one is Taru.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to grab the pillow beside him and smack you upside the head with it as you cackle loudly at him. This time, he’s the one who’s red in the face, but he supposes he deserves it. 

---

It’s another off day, and Shinso should be heading to your room any minute now, but he doesn’t. 

He’s fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dripping as he stands in the middle of his room. An odd, strange, and intense feeling drapes over him like a thick blanket and suddenly Shinso doesn’t want to go anywhere. He doesn’t want to get dressed, doesn’t want to eat and he sure as hell doesn’t want to go and see you.

Some part of Shinso really believed that this hard part was over, but things weren’t ever that easy. He doesn’t even register falling down on his bed and crawling under the covers, his body does it on its own, gladly embracing the empty feeling that came rushing back in tidal waves. 

He doesn’t see you that day- and you don’t come knocking on his door to see if anything’s wrong. You don’t say anything at all and somehow that makes the awful ache in his chest so much tighter. 

---

Depression is like that- acting like it’s not there never fixes it. The next day, Shinso slowly gets out of bed. He doesn’t eat and he’s late to class, but at least he’s there so that counts in his book. You’re there, watching him as he makes his way to the seat and slumps against it- he ignores you completely. 

When the first two classes end and it’s lunch period, you make your way to his desk and gently ask him what’s wrong. It irks Shinso for a reason he can’t quite place. Nonetheless, he assures you that he’s fine.

Why should you care?

Maybe you don’t. Maybe that’s why you walk away from him, leaving him alone in the empty classroom. Shinso’s fists tighten on his desk, nails biting into his palms in crescent shapes, and his jaw clenches. 

Of course you don’t care. 

---

“Hey.”

Shinso’s body doesn’t move and he doesn’t look up, but he can tell that it’s you standing next to him again. A loaf of bread and a bowl of stew is placed on his desk. 

“Have you eaten at all today?”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Are you okay?”

Silence. 

“...Why are you doing this?” He hears you sigh and then you sit on the desk next to him, leaning your elbows on your knees as you try to look at him. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

“Why do you care?” Shinso’s eyes burn holes into the bread on his desk. It��s going to leave crumbs and grease.

“Because we’re friends, and I care about my friends. You know that we’re friends, right?” 

Don’t do this. Don’t ruin this.

It’s a small voice in his head- he supposes it’s his conscience. 

“I know,” he barely whispers. “I just don’t want to talk.”

“...Okay,” you nod and lean back, crossing your legs. “I won’t talk. Eat your food, though. You’ll feel a bit better.”

Shinso does it- and he hates that you’re right. The funk in his head isn’t fully gone, but the rest of the day flows easier thanks to the energy the food gave him. 

He’ll have to thank you later. 

---

“I’m sorry.”

It takes a few days, but eventually, Shinso comes knocking on your door with the best apology he can manage. 

It’s totally lame, but he means it. 

“It’s okay,” you let him in your room and close the door behind you and he notices how your eyes look him up and down. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“I’m glad I’ve passed your cleanliness test,” he shrugs. He did try to put on some clean clothes before he saw you- though he was tempted to stay in the dirty ones just so he could hear you nag. “...It’s just a funk. Comes every so often. I’m not… used to having friends.” It’s the best explanation he can offer. 

“I’m not, either, you know,” You smile at him gently. It makes his stomach flutter, and it’s kind of sickening, but Shinso supposes it’s a better feeling then what he was experiencing before. “I know it’s difficult… But I’m here for you.”

Shinso smiles, too. Because- deep down, despite the depression that skews his view on the world every so often- he knows that you’re telling the truth. 

“...Do you wanna play games?”

“Hell yeah.”

---

About a week after that, you do something completely unexpected. 

You confess. 

“You know… I was lying before.” There’s a noticeable red tint to your cheeks as you look up at the ceiling, directly away from Shinso. “That boy in the game before was actually Haru.”

“...The purple haired one?”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows furrow together. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I was embarrassed!” You yell at him, and he thinks yeah, obviously. “Because I play dumb otome games and it’s weird. And I totally crushed on Haru because he looks like you.”

Oh.

“This is a really weird way of saying I like you.”

Oh.

“You play an otome game with a guy that looks like me because you like me?” He stares at you, and then he unwillingly snorts with a grin. “That’s so sad.”

“Shut the fuck up! I’m saying I like you, you fucking big-headed idiot, don’t change the subject!”

“Right,” Shinso hums. He’s relaxing against some pillows on your bed and he slowly sits up, his shoulders hunched as he stares at the blankets. “Why?”

“Why, what?” You give him an odd look. 

“Why would you…” He huffs through his nose. “Why would you like someone like me, anyway?” 

He feels like a dumb teenage girl in some dumb American movie, twiddling his thumbs on your bed as he wallows in self-doubt and waits for your answer. Shinso isn’t a guy who fishes around for compliments- he just genuinely doesn’t get it. 

Why would you want someone like him?

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Your answer makes him snap his eyes in your direction, wondering if you’re serious. You look like it, and you scoot closer as you take his hand. “I know you don’t think so, but there’s nothing wrong or undesirable about you. You’re a good friend, you make me laugh and you make me happy… And I don’t really control my feelings, you know. It wasn’t my choice to think about kissing a loser like you.”

His face flushes even darker. “You think about kissing me?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, even though you literally just said it. “Do you?”

Hmm. Shinso swallows, his throat feeling awfully dry and he looks down at your hand that’s clasped around his own. He shifts around uncomfortably under your stare. “I dunno,” he mimics you. “Maybe.”

Fuck yeah, he’s thought about it, but he’s not going to directly tell you that. You’d gloat about it for days, he knows you are because you’re just like him and he already knows he’s going to gloat about the fact that you said it. 

“Then, can I kiss you?”

His lips twitch. “Maybe.”

“That’s- that’s not. Dude. I need an answer, here.”

His lips twitch again, forming a grin and he laughs- a flustered small laugh that makes him feel pathetic and embarrassed. “Yeah.”

When your lips meet his, those self-deprecating thoughts melt away. It’s only a second, it’s just a peck- but Shinso licks his lips and finds himself wanting more. “Are you sure?” The boy can’t help but ask- at least he’s looking in your eyes this time. Your beautiful eyes that still have that shine when he first saw you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” and then you kiss him again.

[stardustedknuckles]

It’s kind of hitting me just how much beauyasha has done for me in so many direct and indirect ways. Like there’s the emotional processing channel I got through Beau and the soundboard to work through things that is Yasha, and that’s awesome. That’s a direct way it’s helped me.

Oversharing below the cut~

But it’s also been what’s allowed me to track my mental and emotional state since I really got going in October? Loving Beauyasha, loving to write, that’s become a litmus test for when something is wrong. you know how they say when you’re depressed, you lose interest in things you previously enjoyed? For a long time, I didn’t have a lot that I really enjoyed - just a bunch of stuff to pass time. But I love beauyasha and I love the inspiration it’s provided me. When I can’t write, something is really wrong. Because of this, I discovered there was a pattern to when I felt like I couldn’t write. A few days out of every month since november, I’ve freaked out because I couldn’t write and oh god it’s happening again, see you all in five years when my creativity returns. Around March, I got wise to when it was happening. In April, I connected it to my period (it’s mid-cycle, so it didn’t seem related, but it turns out that’s when estrogen drops hard and I get massively, invisibly inflamed). From there, I was able to look into WHY that affected me so much and how to stop it. 

One doctor said PMDD, but taking an extra wellbutrin didn’t really help. Since summer 2019 (started ADHD meds) I’ve been looking into mast cells and allergies and intolerances and gas and - you fucking name it, I’ve been trying to solve this damn body ever since I regained the ability to care about it. 

But it’s been writing that’s alerted me to the changes. Each time I sit down and I can’t do anything, I now ask myself “do I not care about writing, or does nothing at all sound appealing?” Every. Single. Time. It’s the second one. When I feel able to function, I write.

The issue right now is that it’s the first week of the month and I should be at my best. Going through and looking at my fic history, the first through the 16th or so are when the magic happens. There are exceptions, of course, but mostly these two weeks are meant to be my best and right now, I’m...really hoping I’m just worn out from family this weekend and nervous about the doctor (looking at endometriosis, which would explain everything and solve...not much) and looking forward to my upcoming trip. Like, I really hope that’s all just derailing me a bit because I should be good right now. Also I can't eat much due to lack of appetite, which can't be helping.

And I just keep opening projects and blanking on who wrote them or how to follow them even when I have ideas. And I’m out of ideas for how to combat this feeling when it shouldn’t really be here.

So I guess the bad news is I’m struggling and I’m unsure why, and the good news is that like...I’m struggling, and when I get that sorted (whenever that is) I should be good to jump back in the saddle. I just don’t know right now how to make that happen. And maybe I just have to hold on until autumn comes and revitalizes me as it always does. But man I hope not. I’ve had so much time getting to know how great it is to feel good in between the bad. I don’t want to just have to deal with this weird crawl of time and emotion for 3-ish months.

And I’m willing to bet the constant stress that comes with being unable to write doesn’t help things along either, but it’s an awful feeling to know I’m capable of putting ideas together and something is actively preventing me.

[hostess-of-horror]

Phantom X Peach (again)

Me: "Alright, let's get right back into my current project!"

[sees posts of Phantom and Princess Peach]

My Brain:

Me: *defeated sigh* *clicks Create New Post*

Welp, here we are again! Another Phantom X Peach story! I can't help myself, I absolutely adore this ship. 💜

Since the last story was hurt/comfort themed, I figured I'd continue this trope by switching the roles! Both Princess Peach and Phantom have their bad days, and this time it's poor Phantom.😔

For @salamifuposey​, @kindpopstar​, @strawbunniiee​ and everyone else who wants to read it!

[Content Includes: Themes of Depression and Anxiety and Suggestive Flirting (no smut!)]

---

It was a slow day at the Mushroom Kingdom. Nothing special was happening. At least there were no surprise kidnappings from Bowser or any other signs of danger. Princess Peach, not wanting to sit around all day, decided to take a walk outside. She ensured the people within her castle that she will be safe and will be only admiring the land. Of course, this was partially true. She will be safe, but not while within her own kingdom. Instead, Peach followed the path that led all the way to Spooky Trails. When she arrived at Phantom's theater, she was greeted by a familiar face.

The red-haired woman at the masquerade. The peasant woman from that very night.

---

Peach: "Hello?"

[The red-haired woman notices Peach, gives her a warm smile, and waves.]

????: "Good afternoon, your highness. I wasn't expecting you to come over. My name is Salome. I didn't get to properly introduce myself to you last time we met."

Peach: "It's nice to meet you, Salome." *bows* "May I ask if Phantom is inside?"

Salome: "Yes, he is. In fact, I'm so glad you came! Our master has become terribly upset all of a sudden."

Peach: "Oh no! What happened to him? Is he alright?"

Salome: "I'm not exactly sure. He has had these moments before, but almost none of us know exactly how to completely help him out. Our master was last seen entering into his boudoir. He didn't say a word to any of us. I don't believe he is physically ill, but it is some sort of sickness. Perhaps you can help him? No, wait - I shouldn't do that to a guest, especially one that's royalty."

Peach: "No. No need to apologize. If Phantom is distressed, then I'll do my best to help him feel better."

Salome: "Ah, you're so kind, Princess. Just like how he describes you."

[Salome invites Peach into the theater, entering down into the underground lair where Phantom and his theater troupe reside. Once again, Peach is inside the large and luxurious hallways of the lair, this time going down to Phantom's Boudoir. The door to this room is just as massive as the Ballroom entrance. Salome knocks.]

Phantom: *from behind the door* "Leave me be!"

Salome: "Master, is there something wrong?"

Phantom: "I'll be fine... I just need some peace and quiet."

[Peach approaches the door and knocks gently.]

Peach: "Phantom? It's me. Salome told me what happened... are you sure you're okay?"

Phantom: "Princess?"

[A moment of silence.]

Phantom: "Salome, if you don't mind, would you kindly let the Princess in? I want to see her in private."

Salome: "Yes, Master."

[Salome pushes the door just slightly, so that Peach can enter the Boudoir. The door closes behind and Peach is inside the room. The Boudoir is just as beautiful as the rest of the lair. Lavish decorations fill the walls, from portraits to curtains to ornamental decals. A multitude of candles light the darkness, all of them leading up to a massive pile of pillows and blankets. There lying in this pile is Phantom, his head placed in between his crossed arms. His cobalt blue coat and red vest are gone. The only thing he’s wearing is his ivory poet blouse, slightly unbuttoned, revealing his shoulder and upper chest. Peach couldn’t help but stare. She has never seen Phantom without his coat and vest before. As she approaches him, Phantom lifts his head to look at his guest, revealing his weary, tear-stained eyes. Peach stops. She recognizes those red eyes from the first night they reunited.]

Phantom: “Ah, my love... Do forgive my appearance. I should have freshened up a bit before you came in.” *softly chuckles*

Peach: “Phantom, what’s wrong?”

[Phantom slowly rises from his position. Peach walks up to him, reaching out for his cheek.]

Peach: “Have you been crying?”

Phantom: *takes a deep breath* “Oh, just a little bit, that’s all...”

[Peach awaits his answer. Phantom looks into her eyes, taking another deep breath.]

Phantom: “... I had another breakdown. I was outside before you came here, to get some fresh air. This place gets stuffy once you’ve spent many days inside. I thought maybe I could venture outside Spooky Trails for inspiration. But instead, I found... memories.”

Peach: “Memories?”

Phantom: “Reminders, more like it. They mock me, even after all this time. They appear in my mind every now and then, but... this time was worse than before.”

Peach: “Tell me about them.”

[Lifting her arms up, inviting Phantom to come into her arms, Peach gives him a pitiful expression. Phantom slowly crawls, wrapping his arms around her and placing his head onto her lap.]

Phantom: “These memories... they remind me of my loneliness. My strangeness. How I was - is - met with rejection by my fellow Rabbids. When I was outside, I found a few Rabbids playing, mindlessly causing havoc as usual. I could do the same, but in the end, I found such activities to be senseless. I find no real purpose doing those things. But, as I was watching them, I could not help but yearn for such a connection. Yes, I have my theater troupe, but...”

[Phantom pauses. He looks up at Peach.]

Phantom: “Oh, I don’t believe I’ve told you about them.”

Peach: “What about them?”

Phantom: “They are not real, exactly. I made them.”

Peach: “Wait... you made these people?”

Phantom: “Yes. Along with making masterpieces, I study magic on the side. Since the... battle years ago, I discovered that I have more powers than I initially thought. I guess it makes sense, considering that I am not only part Rabbid, I am also part Boo.”

Peach: “Hmmm... Boos do have many magical abilities, but it varies from each individual Boo. I learned about them when I was a little girl. I agree, it does make sense.”

Phantom: “Dolores, Stefan, Natasha and Ophelia, Salome... all of them are not real. They’re actually mannequins - puppets controlled by my magic.”

Peach: “So my eyes weren’t deceiving me back then! I was going to ask you after that masquerade performance, but... well...” *blushes*

Phantom: *lifts one eyebrow* “Hehe... but you were overwhelmed?” *caresses her cheek down to her chin* “With passion?”

[Peach’s face becomes even redder. Phantom softly laughs at her bashfulness.]

Phantom: “You are so precious! Ah... I could just kiss you!”

[Suddenly, Peach is pulled into Phantom’s embrace, her lips being locked into his. She melts, sinking deeper into his kiss. Then Phantom rolls over, landing on top of her. He finally stops, taking a moment for both of them to catch their breath.]

Phantom: “My apologizes... I... got carried away.”

Peach: “I see you’re feeling much better.”

Phantom: “I am.”

Peach: “Phantom...” *holding his face close to her* “You are not alone. You may be different, but I would not say you’re ‘strange.’ ‘Unique’ would be a better term. Others may not understand you, but I do. I understand you, even if there’s plenty of things I haven’t learned about you yet, Like your magic. In fact, if they give you a chance, I believe you would be accepted outside Spooky Trails.”

Phantom: “....”

Peach: “What you call ‘strangeness’ is what I call ‘wonderful.’ Amazing... Alluring... Beguiling... Captivating... Enchanting.”

Phantom: “Ah, Princess! Now you’re making me blush! That is supposed to be my job!”

[Peach laughs, a huge smile across her face.]

Peach: “Don’t you know? I hold magic abilities as well! I can make even the most powerful gentlemen fall to their knees.”

Phantom: “Oh?”

Peach: “Yes, and I just did.”

Phantom: “Well, how can I disagree? How can I be so powerful when you make me so weak?”

[They lock themselves into a passionate kiss again.]

[jamilelucato]

Seventeen [D. M.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Based on the song Seventeen, from the musical Heathers; y/N and Draco have a conversation at the Malfoy Manor during the war that can change everything. But will it?

Hogwarts Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Masterlist

A/N: So this is one of the fics from my personal project of making hp fanfics from musicals songs and this is the first one! It’s a bit angst, but I love the song and I think it fits perfectly with Draco and y/N. Hope you guys enjoy it and stay tuned for more fics like this!

Words: 1.743

“Fine!” you shouted, locking the door behind you, keeping both you and Draco inside. He wasn’t angry at you, but the amount of strength you used to close the door scared him a bit. You were the last person he expected to throw a fit.

It was the third week in a roll that you got locked up in the Malfoy Manor, and, although huge, the place was getting on your nerves. Draco was actually saving your life, but you were getting uptight.

Since you were a Slytherin and Draco’s girlfriend, he found it’d be easier to hide you at plain sight. At first, you were sceptical, but there was no other option. You came to the Manor and started pretending to be from a forgotten line of Purebloods.

The fact was you were a half-blood, daughter of a wizard and a muggle woman. There was a big chance Voldemort and the others wanted your head, but maybe they could spare you. There are, after all, a lot of mudbloods, completely mudbloods, yet to be hunted. Somehow, though, the idea didn’t make it easier.

“We’re damaged, really damaged,” you sighed, staring at Draco’s eyes. He was sitting on the bed that had been his and yours since the begging of your stay. He didn’t want you sleeping in a room where he would have no idea of what happened — you could receive “unwanted” visitors and get killed. “But that does not make us wise!”

For you to have a room for yourselves, two things had to happen, and they were both requested by Voldermort.

First: get engaged. That was more demanded from Lucius and Narcissa then Voldemort, but he agreed, so. That was also not trouble: that same night Draco gave you a ring. Apparently, he was going to do it — he just didn’t think he’d have to do it in the presence of almost fifty death-eaters.

Second: get the dark mark. That terrified your guts, so you hadn’t get it yet. Draco was stalling the death-eaters, especially Bellatrix, who at every opportunity asked if you were ready. He’d invented something about you being allergic to brands, but it wouldn’t do much more.

“We’re not special — we’re not ‘different’” Draco was surprisingly quiet. He was deep down just like you; he didn’t want to be doing those things as well. “We don’t choose who lives or dies!”

You sighed again. Your fight wasn’t against Draco.

“Let’s be normal; see bad movies, sneak a beer. Bake brownies or go bowling,” you avoided his pity eyes. “Don’t you want a life with me?”

You sat down next to him. “Can’t we be seventeen?” ha, that was rather funny. Be seventeen! You two should be at school, you two should be laughing around the corridors of Hogwarts, he should be playing Quidditch, and you should be having girls night at your dorm room. But now that was all gone, like a distant memory.

Draco was never your best friend, but he was someone nice to have around. He would never admit it, but he was a good student with perfect grades; because of that, more times than often, you requested his help to study. So, when on the sixth year he stopped helping you out, you noticed he was different. Darker.

It was on that year that you realize you had feelings for him. You two came to some sort of agreement around that: both were in love with each other.

It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so tragic: Draco was already depressed because of his mark and his duty to Voldemort. You couldn’t fight against him, and you couldn’t betray him — the only choice was to stay hidden until you couldn’t anymore, and he had welcomed you into the Manor.

How nice was that? Teenage love and, now, an engagement where the involved haven’t kissed each other yet?

“If you could let me in, I could be good with you,” your voice was barely a whisper, but somehow he heard.

His hand reached for yours, and you looked down at the simple touch. “People hurt us,” you pointed out, taking a great look at his mark, forever on his arm.

“Or they vanish,” he added, reminding you of your mom and dad who had disappeared. It wasn’t their fault — you asked them to vanish — but you still missed them every day.

“And you’re right, that really blows. But we let go—”

“Take a deep breath,” his words seemed to reach every part of your brain and tranquillize you along the way. You hoped your voice had the same effect for him.

“We’ll go camping,” you suggested with a faded smile, trying to make the situation more fun. It didn’t need to happen right now, but maybe one day, yes.

“Play some Gobstones,” he sighed, starting to play your game.

“And we’ll eat some flavour beans,” you looked up in an attempt to meet his gaze. “Maybe prom night.”

“Maybe dancing,” he finally stared back at you.

“Don’t stop looking in my eyes,” you smiled, taking your hands out of his and holding his face, making him keep his gaze on you.

“Your eyes...” he repeated your words, a sign that he was lost in thoughts you could only imagine. Lucius didn’t trust you completely so many times he needed to ask things from Draco, he asked him alone. You had no idea what he and Voldemort were planning from Draco, but something was coming, especially after he failed at killing Dumbledore.

“Can’t we be seventeen? Is that so hard to do?” he tilted his head like he was melting at your touch. “If you could let me in, I could be good with you.”

“Let us be seventeen if we still got the right,” Draco said. His hand that was before laying on your lap lost without your hand traced a path around your body so it could meet your face just like you were doing.

“I wanna be with you,” you said, informing him as if for the first time. Those words expressed more than staying at the Malfoy Manor — they meant you wanted him, you wanted to be his for real.

“I wanna be with you,” he replied. Before the first tear fell from your eyes, his lips touched you for the very first time.

He had kissed your hand before and even your forehead on a cold night. Your heart had stopped both of those times, but nothing like now. It was a new experience; kissing Draco couldn’t be compared to anything you two had done before.

Your hands, once holding his chin, were now wandering his silver locks and finding pleasure with the texture. His hand that was on your face pulled you even closer and the other one once free was now wandering your body with the same eager as you.

“Yeah, we’re damaged,” you muttered when his lips reached for your neck — experience in a whole other level.

“Badly damaged,” he whispered back.

“But...” you tried to continue, but his lips met yours once again, shutting you up.

“Your love’s too good to lose,” he added, pushing you back a little just so you could see his eyes and know that he meant it.

Draco wanted you. He wanted all of you. Not just for the night, but for the next, and the other, and the next after that. He knew he loved you for a while, but with the war happening, things got a little foggy. His priorities were mixed.

His father had just some minutes ago told him that he knew you were a half-blood. Lucius told Draco that you wouldn’t be killed for that, but since it meant your father was married to a witch, they’d hunt down at least the two.

“They will be killed, son, don’t get me wrong,”  said Lucius in a warning tone. “The problem is they’ll probably want her to do it.”

So, yeah, Draco was mad when he got in the room he was sharing with you. He was enraged to the maximum. It was something having Voldemort forcing him to do things — it was a complete and unacceptable other thing him wanting you to do things.

You are perfect; you are his light. He wouldn’t bare seeing you going dark.

So, while he was snogging you — and don’t get me wrong, he was loving it, he was over the moon about that part —, he was planning a way to escape the Manor. It wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t impossible. He would need his mom, but he was sure she’d help.

You and Draco ended up in the bed, naked. You guessed all that angst and the war could not stop the teen hormones. Not that you were complaining — Draco was great at it. He was gentle but firm, a combination that surprised you.

You were not very sure of what to do, but Draco was patient.

“Tonight is not about me.”

“That will be a first,” you said, trying to defuse the tension.

He smirked at you in that way that only he knew how. It made you jealous, you really wished you could smile like that.

“I’ve got a plan,” he said when you were laying on his chest. His voice was barely a whisper. “Tonight, we’ll run away. I’ll ask mom, she’ll know how to help, and some house-elves can stock food in a bag...”

“Draco?”

“Yeah?” you looked up at him.

“You’re really going to run away with me? You know you don’t have to, right?” you didn’t know how to proceed. “I mean, you are safe here. ”

“If I am what you choose,” he said with a soft voice, “then I’ll do what’s needed to see you protected.”

You kissed him again, and again, unable to stop. It could have been a happy memory if it wasn’t for the background.

A knock on the door froze you two. Draco was faster, he got up and inside his pants. He was at the door when he turned back to face you, and you nodded for him to open.

Narcissa head popped in, but she was so anxious she didn’t even take a good look around.

“Draco, we need you downstairs. I think we’ve got him!”

“Who?”

You crawled the bed, leaning towards the door.

“I think we’ve got Potter.”

[senorarelojes]

Ficlet: Surprise Party

Just some crack I wrote for @pinksyndication. A very silly Pizzaverse oneshot.

.

Most of the time, Fletch was the only one out of his friends to remember someone’s birthday. He didn’t know why he had the uncanny ability to recall the birthdates of even casual acquaintances, or mates whom he hadn’t seen in years since they left uni. Martin often made fun of him about it, which was ironic because he wholly depended on Fletch to remind him when people’s birthdays were coming up. Of course Fletch teased him about it - but not that much since Martin was very thoughtful when it came to celebrations for their close friends, especially Dave and Alan.

Back in Bas, they’d always celebrated Dave’s birthday in a big group, usually hitting the pubs and clubs and getting pissed until morning. However, now that he was with Alan, the pub crawls had given way to more adult group dinners and the occasional karaoke tournament, where either Dave or Martin would emerge the winner (despite one memorable year where a drunk Alan belted out Total Eclipse of the Heart to a red-faced Dave while everyone else cried with laughter). 

Fletch supposed it was normal for birthdays to get more boring as they approached their mid twenties, although he was a little sad that their clubbing days were rapidly dying out. He decided he could try to do something different and plan a big surprise party for someone at one point.

The opportunity presented itself not long after. Dave’s 25th birthday was coming up, and while it had become tradition for him and Alan to go off and do their own thing, this year was different because Alan was stuck in Manchester for a recording project with an urgent deadline. Fletch had heard from Martin that Dave had considered taking the train up to Manchester so he could spend at least part of the day with Alan, but Dave himself was stuck at work for a merchandising event. 

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Martin informed Fletch over dinner, “but he’s utterly depressed about spending his birthday alone. I thought we could do something for him, y’know?”

Fletch perked up, his fork clattering on the plate in excitement and startling Miffles at his feet. “We could throw him a party?”

Martin looked doubtful. “Dunno, he didn’t seem to want to leave the house.”

“So we’ll have it at his place,” Fletch said, gesturing impatiently across the hall. “He won’t even have to leave the sofa.”

Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, Martin picked up his phone. “I’ll ask him.” He’d barely put his phone down when it buzzed with a reply from Dave: dont wanna celebrate w/out charlie 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 

“Jesus, this is textbook co-dependence,” Fletch said in mock disgust while Martin laughed. “So sod him then, we’ll just throw him a surprise party.”

Martin wrinkled his nose. “Sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, we’ve got their spare keys, don’t we?” Fletch waggled his eyebrows at Martin. “We’ll call everyone, let ourselves into their flat with a cake and surprise the hell out of Dave, yeah? Then we’ll bring food and alcohol over from our place.”

It didn’t take much more to convince Martin, and soon after Fletch managed to get Grainne, Daryl, Paul and Nicole on board as well. Even Vince agreed to travel up from Bas for the night. Privately, Fletch was a little glad Christina wouldn’t be attending, as she’d returned to Germany after she and Martin had split up a few months ago. Fletch also hoped this party would lift Martin’s spirits as well.

As planned, on Dave’s birthday, everyone pretended to forget about it. Fletch almost felt guilty when Dave came over to have breakfast with them, shooting him and Mart hopeful glances before he left for work. Then it was up to Fletch and Martin to make sure things were ready for tonight. Martin would be leaving the bank early to take care of decorations and food, while Fletch would be fetching Vince from the station after work before they’d go to pick up Dave’s cake.

In the evening, everyone had arrived by seven and was hiding in Fletch’s and Martin’s flat, waiting for Dave to come home as they blew balloons and helped with the food. A little after eight, Daryl - who’d been stationed to keep watch at the window - suddenly shushed them, signaling for everyone to keep quiet. It seemed Dave had finally reached home.

Fletch tip-toed over to Daryl’s side, peeking out from behind the curtains. He could see Dave unlocking the door to his and Alan’s flat, his cheeks a little red and his walk unsteady - Fletch guessed that his mates from work must have taken him out for a few birthday pints. After the door slammed shut, Fletch set the timer for fifteen minutes, which he figured was enough time for Dave to settle in and sober up a bit before they went in to surprise him.

Once Fletch’s timer went off, everyone played their parts like a well-oiled machine. Vince brought the cake out from the fridge, Paul stuck on the candles and lit them, Grainne grabbed her phone to take pictures, Martin took out the spare keys that Dave and Alan had entrusted them with. All of them nodded quietly at each other before Fletch opened the door and led everyone out.

Martin slid the key in as quietly as possible, unlocking it with graceful stealth. Fletch very slowly nudged the door open; the living room was dark, which meant Dave wasn’t there. Once he was sure, he swung the door open wider so that everyone could fit in: Fletch led the way, Vince behind him with the cake. The candles were the only light in the flat.

Dave and Alan’s bedroom door was closed. Fletch ignored another pang of guilt that Dave was quite probably moping in bed now, distressed that his friends had forgotten him and Alan had forsaken him for work. Gesturing for everyone to follow, Fletch placed his hand on the doorknob, silently counting down to three on his fingers before he suddenly twisted the knob and yanked the door open, barging into the room. “Surprise! Happy birthday D--”

It was a toss-up as to who was more stunned: Fletch (and Vince right behind him with the cake) or a naked Dave in bed with his laptop on his thighs, scrambling to cover his crotch with a blanket as he shouted, “What the fuck!”

“Sorry! Christ I’m sorry!” Fletch slammed his hands over his eyes so he could get the image of Dave’s pale arse out of his goddamn brain. Behind him, he could hear Daryl laughing in disbelief and Alan’s voice from the laptop speakers, demanding to know what the fuck was going on.

“Oh my God, Dave,” Fletch could hear Grainne blabbering, “We’re so, so sorry--”

“Everyone out!” Dave yelled, and that was when someone - probably Martin -  came to their senses and started shoving at all of them to leave the room. Once the door was closed, Fletch let his hands drop, still stunned in disbelief. Fucking Daryl was still laughing as though they hadn’t just walked in on their good friend completely starkers and having Skype sex with their other friend. Paul and Nicole, who had been stuck in the back, were still completely confused, while Vince looked rather traumatised, ignoring the candles as they melted onto the cake.

“Fucking hell.” Fletch just rubbed at his temples as Grainne rubbed his back soothingly. “I’m going to need so much therapy.”

The door swung open again, an angry and tomato-faced Dave reappearing in shorts and a tank-top. “What the hell?”

“Er, happy birthday?” Martin grinned sheepishly, subtly hiding behind Fletch when Dave glared at him. However, his scowl melted away once he spotted the still-dazed Vince holding the cake.

“Oh man, you guys.” Dave rubbed at his face, probably torn between embarrassment and gratitude. 

“Quick, blow them out,” Paul said with a grin. “Then you can go blow something else.”

Daryl laughed even harder while Fletch wanted to pour bleach into his ears. “Sorry, we didn’t know you and Alan, uh--”

“Shit!” Dave’s eyes widened in realisation before he dashed back into the room, re-emerging with his laptop. On the screen was a topless but confused Alan in a Skype window, asking what was going on. “Sorry Al, someone decided to throw me a surprise party,” Dave explained to him.

“Oh.” At least Alan must have thought it was pretty funny, judging from how he seemed to be fighting back a laugh as he waved at everyone. “Hi from Manchester, you lot.”

“Sorry for interrupting you and Dave,” Martin said. “It was meant to be a birthday surprise thing.” 

“So was mine.” Alan was the absolute picture of innocence.

“I’m not talking to you while you’re shirtless,” Fletch said, shielding his eyes.

“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Grainne suggested. Fletch appreciated that she was at least keeping her gaze at eye-level and nowhere near Dave’s bunchy-looking underwear. “We’ll wait for you next door, Dave.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right over.” Dave gave all of them an apologetic grimace. “Let me wrap things up with Al first, yeah?”

“So we’ll see you in a minute? A minute and a half?” Paul smirked, not at all caring that Dave looked ready to throw the laptop at him.

They eventually filed out of Dave’s and Alan’s flat, heading back into Fletch’s and Martin’s. By now, the candles had completely melted onto the cake, and Vince was blinking down at the waxy mess, eyes still round with surprise.

“You all right, mate?” Martin asked in concern, taking the cake off the poor bloke.

“I need a drink,” Vince said solemnly. “A very stiff one.”

“Dave’s probably having a stiff one right now,” Daryl said with a straight face, before everyone burst out laughing, even Vince.

[bellamyblake]

"#also my hc is that he has a vague recollection of his dad#and he hates ppl who are not him calling him skn" WHY IS THIS MAKING ME SO SOFT FOR HIM AND HIS DAD sndhsdf

also, everyone else that called him son probably took advantage of him and his mom

Nonnie don’t you even START me on the subject of Bell and his dad cause I have about 1000 headcanons that I’ve shared with only a few people randomly making them sick of me but YES, absolutely YES. He hates people calling him that. You know why? 

Because in my HCs he has a vague recollection of his papa. And he wasn’t randomly conceived like i guess the writers were trying to make it out to be like with O/ctavia. No. In my head Aurora fell for his dad hard when they were young, they were school rivals, enemies to friends to lovers of sorts, and Aurora was a sharp, beautiful girl who didn’t take anyone’s shit especially boys in her class who were a little cocky, thinking they were too good for anyone else or at least that was her first impression of his dad (In my head called Nate). 

They rivalled constantly in school and she beat him at every contest, the best and brightest of her class. 

Nate was a promising young man who came from Factory as well but had a sharp mind and would try to shoot for being an engineer.

They first got closer when they had an Earth class project together and she realized that he was one giant dork who had knowledge on more than fifty percent of the books in the library. He had memorized them since he couldn’t own them and would retell her stories of stars and ancient myths that she later passed onto Bell and Octavia. 

Then in their final year Aurora’s dad passed away and she had to drop out of school to work as a seamstress and support herself and her mom who was ill. 

Nate would come by her place every day, bring her school work or books and soon she started inviting him in. Their parents approved of their relationship cause they were both good kids and Aurora challenged Nate, she was a force he could rarely reckon with but he was smitten and she wasn’t so hard and collected then, still pragmatic she had let her heart out in the open for Nate who loved her dearly, honestly, truly.

They married when he graduated and moved into their own little cabin. At first Aurora didn’t get pregnant right away and that got her sad and a little depressed. Nate was at his wits end how to bring the smile on his good girl back but soon enough a year and a half into their new life, he came home and found her sobbing on their little cot.

He rushed to her, kneeled down and took her hands-Rory, what is it? Are you hurt? In pain?

And she simply shook her head and smiled-Nate, I’m pregnant-she had whispered as if she was afraid to say it out loud, it was so surreal.

Nate picked her up laughed and kissed her. He had only been happier on the day Bell was born.

Her pregnancy was hard, though, she had to stop working when she was six months in cause she had really high blood pressure and Nate was going nuts how to provide everything they needed for their little baby that would soon join them. He took extra shifts, came home late but even if Aurora was already asleep, working from home on her bed, stitching clothes together, he’d lay next to her and kiss her bump, talk to the baby and she’d wake up to him stupidly crying cause he was so emotional.

Despite the pregnancy being hard, giving birth happened fast and relatively easy. Nate held Bellamy in his hands and weeped next to a tired Aurora who had to stay a week in the hospital due to her still high blood pressure and presistent fever that left her weak for months after.

But they were happy, oh god they were so happy.

And Bell when he cried it was so quiet Nate wasn’t sure he really heard it and panicked at first-as if he didn’t want to bother them with his presense. He was a quiet good baby that eat a lot. Aurora had to nurse him constantly and soon he was all chubby cheeks and big bright eyes.

Nate marvelled at him, spent every waking minute with him and sometimes sat by his crib and just stared at him while he slept. 

“My brave boy-” he would always say when he held him though Bellamy wasn’t doing anything but drooling all over his shirt and blabbing in his baby tongue “My little wolf cub.” that was his nickname for him.

So Aurora knit them matching hats with little wolf ears on.

Bellamy was a smart blubbering child who cheekishly learned early how to escape the confinments of his crib and fall directly into his mom and dad’s bed, waking them in the middle of the night and curling up between them.

He was fast to crawl but not fast to walk and they worried. Had to take him to a doctor who said he has calcium deficience and prescribed more vitamins and a special formula.

The day he walked Ante was washing his onsies in the kitchen sink and talking to him, telling him a story after he placed him on the little blanket with his few tosy to play with.

Out of nowhere he heard Bellamy’s giggle and his tiny hands wrapping around Nate’s legs. He turned around and gasped, dropping everything, hands soaped, he laughed and picked him up.

“My brave, brave boy!” he rubbed his nose against Bell’s “I love you so much, my son!”

Okay I’m stopping here cause i licherally have a 43k story about bell as a kid on the ark and his parents but I wont bore anyone anymore with this LOL. 

[sakamakisaywhat]

hii i hope you're doing well ^^ can u do headcanons of shu ruki ayato kou subaru of when they accuse their s/o of cheating but it turns out to be a misunderstanding?

SHU

- Shu wouldn’t be the type of accuse his partner of cheating quickly and he’s not the jealous type either, so he’d have to be pretty convinced to do it - “Hey... what exactly do you do after school with that guy?” - More than anything he’d be angry at first - “Those texts you’re always sending him... are they really only about your English project or are you hiding something from me?” - To prove you weren’t cheating you’d probably have to show him evidence to the contrary - However, he’d calm down very easily once he found out it was a misunderstanding - He’s back to his old self quickly - “I guess I should’ve known that someone as dirty as you could only be satisfied by me.” - You might catch him being a bit warier than usual of the guy he was suspicious of, though, so try not to mention him too much around Shu for a while

AYATO

- Instant. Rage. - Ayato is extremely jealous. If you have any close male friends, accusing them of coming onto you is something that will happen on the regular - If he sees anything that might raise the tiniest suspicion, he immediately assumes they’re trying to steal you away - “I told you to stay away from him! You think you can get away with betraying Yours Truly like this?!” - He won’t listen to you at first when you try to explain that the guy is a childhood friend, but placate him with some praise and reassurance and he’ll calm down - The anger comes from a place of insecurity, so you’ll need to show him that there’s no one else for you before fixing the misunderstanding - “Ha, like some other guy could ever beat Yours Truly anyway! I w-wasn’t even worried about it.” - Ayato WILL complain every time you try to hang out with the guy again and follow you around to all your classes, but you can’t really complain seeing as it’s not that different from what you’re used to from him anyway...

SUBARU

- Subaru will put up a good show of being angry but he’s more the instant crushing depression type - When he confronts you he’ll probably punch a wall or throw something out a window, but his expression will be all fear and insecurity - “Just a friend? What the fuck kind of explanation is that? You’re all over each other!” - Explain that the guy is very much not into you - as in, your gender entirely - and then Subaru will start to go red - He’ll feel really stupid that he ever accused you - He’ll stomp off in a huff, ears burning, but you know he’s probably blaming himself for misunderstanding the situation - Crawl into his bed later and he’ll pull you into his chest, hiding his face in your hair - “Hey, about earlier... I’m- I’m sorry. I guess. Whatever.” - Reassure him he’s the only one for you and he’ll be back to normal by the next day, if a little embarrassed

RUKI

- “Livestock. Explain.” - Despite his impassive expression Ruki will be angry, but he’s the most likely to listen to reason out of any of the boys - The thought that it’s a misunderstanding has probably already crossed his mind - Ruki knows you and also knows you wouldn’t cheat, but he wants to hear the truth from you first - He won’t immediately start yelling either. He’ll remain calm and let you offer up your excuses - As long as you have a solid explanation for why he’s wrong, it’s very unlikely the situation will escalate - By solid explanation I mean evidence, an alibi and a fully presented argument about exactly why Ruki has misunderstood the situation - He probably won’t admit that what he did was wrong or apologise, but you’ll still get some benefit out of the situation in the end - “Misunderstanding or not, I still warned you about this boy. Expect to be punished.” - oh noooo, whatever will you do

KOU

- “M-Neko-Chan... so exactly who is this guy who was hugging you behind the bleachers today?” - Thanks to his legion of fans, Kou has eyes and ears everywhere. A minute where he doesn’t know your whereabouts is exceedingly rare, and he abuses this ability to check up on you as much as possible - Kou is a very jealous partner, but when he approaches you he’ll be all smiles - “You should know better than to do these types of things, M-Neko-Chan, I’ll get angry.” - You’d better give him the truth quickly before he pounces, and it had better be believable - He still won’t trust you 100% and won’t let you leave his side for quite a while when you aren’t at home - Once he realises he was wrong, he’s annoyed both at himself and at the fan that delivered him the news - Kou will absolutely shoot the messenger, so to speak, so you’d better start praying for the poor girl - Don’t make fun of him for accusing you whatever you do though - it’ll be a sore spot for Kou for months