#there is something frighting about the way of how often and how sick i get

[leftdestiny-posts]

Sometimes my legs are made out of iron and stone. And I can only look as everything passes by

[granolawriting]

A proper fall◞♡

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: A slow night ignites when Joel brings a suprise of pumpkins spotted on his way home from work to your doorstep. what starts as a nice activity with you and him lit by the illumination of the TV and of small tea candles, delves into something a bit more about you, and less about pumpkins.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (25yrs), he has grey hair so hes about that old, he also has long hair because I say so, breif praise kink, strong Joel picks you up, pet names (darling, sweetheart), crazy tension, the reader is a bit of a stalker, Joel teaches you how to cut a pumpkin (visual learner ;))

word count: 2.8k

general masterlist . kink*tober masterlist

A/N: welcome to the first day of kink*tober! Hope this is a good way to start it off, and enjoy ;)

Night falls upon an evening of autumn that crept up upon you as though there was no summer in between them. As the beginning of October rears its head, and you watch the symptoms of the cold brush against the warm tones of trees once vibrant and green, their remnants finding final resting place within the sidewalks at which you walk and the streets you drive. Fall reminded you of times since past, of family and festivities, childlike whimsy watching as though the monsters on TV were specially curated for your greatest fright. There's something nostalgic about this time of year, however with old love comes a desire to thrust it into the new by sharing it with those you love and care for. A yearning you've held as you’ve grown older as most definitely as you lived alone. 

The familiar tune of Joel's tires drives up onto the gravel to the house adjacent from yours. Joel, your neighbor, your sometimes liquor handler, and the incessant object of your unrequited affection. He was an older man in contrast to you, aged about 25 years your senior he was a reliable man for about anything an old man could provide. From home repairs to car leaks he's about the only person in this freshly moved into town that feels as though he is genuine with you. And as you hear the parking of tires scratch against the small stones, it cues to you a glimpse at him was within your reach. Every moment you could you were compelled to steal glances at him, with a window facing the front end of his home you were able to gaze upon him twice a day if you were lucky. Once when he went to work and once when he went home. Though some nights you find him sat on a chair outside on his property, a face illuminated by a light attached to his porch a sweet sound of hums and plucking of strings filled your senses as a dimly lit guitar played a melody unfamiliar to you by origin but soaked in with every ounce of love by the way he rendered it with his own hands. 

Your eyes trace his movements as he hops out of his truck, a routine motion of heavy steps does he do something uncharacteristic-- reaching to the back of his truck. Usually there was nothing left of the cargo stored in his truck for work by day's end, and anything he bought often was small enough to fit in his passenger. By a sick twist of stalking tendencies you found yourself undeniably intrigued in this minute break in routine. But as he reveals what is shadowed by the walls of the truck's rear it has you make a double take. Pumpkins? 

Two pumpkins, one thrusted under each crook of his arm to carry with the strength of his bicep and the careful placement of fingers to keep it in place. And as he walks that gravel road you see him not turn around to meet his own front door, but as his boots hit the sidewalk it dawns on you that he is going to your own door. 

You panic, going into a very forced casual relaxation as you await his knock, only mere seconds to play the act of surprise as though you had not watched him from the moment his car arrived in his lot. 

Knock knock. 

Fuck. fuck uh, shit uh fuck well how long does it take for someone to casually get up to get the door how many steps uh 

You sprint to your couch and start tracing steps to the door with perfectly calculated casualty to them, no anticipation to be perceived in the gracefulness of tense legs and unnatural motion wading one step closer to the door. 

Knock knock knock 

Oh shit. That was with his boot maybe? Fuck I took too long what if they drop and break and 

Abandoning all previous methods of casualty you find yourself lunging for the door. 

“Took ya’ long enough.” 

God. His smile was teasing, a little cock in his hip to hold up a slipping pumpkin that gave him an air of tease that when complimented by a southern drawl and a long days of work, made your knees grow weak at the sight of him. 

“Ya’ just gonna stand there or can I put these things somewhere ‘fore they break on us?” 

You snap out of your gaze to usher him in; 

“Oh, oh of course I'm so sorry you can put them on the kitchen counter.” 

And as he passes you, the musk of coffee, tobacco, and sawdust wafts past you in a scent coated by recently applied cologne that makes your eyes follow him as his back faces you and he travels deeper within your home. You swiftly close the door behind him and follow, watching the way he walked, the sway of his body ever so slightly, the sound of his boots against your wooden floors, the broadness of his back accentuated by the posture he found himself in. he was so much larger than you he almost dwarfed you in comparison. And as you remember the way he looked moments before, with rolled up sleeves that showed flexed forearms before you, you thought that he was absolutely perfect. 

“What are these even doing here Joel?” 

You ask in a playful tone as you trail behind him, hoping that whatever he had in mind involved him staying there. 

He stands with a hip cocked on the side of your counter as the two pumpkins sit there, arms crossed watching as you speak. The dim light of the lower setting of your home lighting casts a soft shadow on his tanned face, to complement the fall of gray and black hair right above his eyes. 

“Well, saw em’ for sale on my way home ‘n thought you’d like one. It's that, buy one get one, thought you’d wanna cut em’ up fer your fancy little decorations.” 

By “fancy little decorations” he means a welcome mat from michaels, that adorned a little skull over the ‘O’. 

Joel begins to make his way towards the door he’d just come out of, passing you makes your heart sink. 

“Well, I best be gettin’ out of ya hair, hope you like em’.” 

But as his kind smile meets your eyes and a slightly frowned mouth, impulse overtakes you to grab onto a bicep clothed in dark plaid that makes him stop in his tracks. 

“No, uh. How about you help me out? We can cut one up each. If, you don't have anything going on. It's fine if you do. I was just watching a movie.” 

It comes flowing out of you without thinking, but you couldn't let yourself forsake this kind of opportunity just by staying quiet. 

He turns his head to look at you, eyes lingering on the hand holding his arm for a moment. 

“Oh- I'm sorry.” 

You lower your hand. 

His eyes shift to your own, and a shock of electricity runs through you that stuns you-- as his eyes meet yours there's something different about them. His eyelids hood his dark brown eyes with a bit more intensity than you’re used to, a smile creeps on his lips that has the playfulness you are used to, but with a tinge of something inexplicable within the formation of it. He turns to face you, shadowing you as his broad frame overpowers yours, he looks down upon you as he speaks. 

“No worries darlin’, and I ain’t got nothing to do anyways, I don't mind helpin’ out with some carving. Cant promise i'm any good at it though, aint done it since my girl was young.” 

A spark of joy lights up your face, creating a stretch of lips into a smile that reaches cheek to cheek in positive response to your leap of faith. Eyes darting around to combat his unwavering gaze upon you that if any more attention were to be paid to his gesture you would be unable to have enough self control to pull yourself away from his trance.

 He is so effortlessly enchanting.

“Oh! Oh that's okay. I don't quite know how to do it either. I’ll get us some knives, and some markers for the outline of the face. Just- give me a second.” 

Scrambling around to the drawer of your kitchen that houses all miscellaneous amenities from lighters to thumbtacks, you fish around for a black sharpie and some leftover tealights from an old project you did for decor. You feel Joel's eyes follow your movement as he situated himself on the chair just opposite of the counter to you where there was a small slab of marble sticking out for any who wish to use that as means for dining instead of a proper table. And for you in this moment it meant close proximity with a certain Joel Miller who was a picturesque of your very dream, who you’d found a friend within. your back turns to him to find the silverware that bear sharp enough blade to cut through ripe pumpkin, you know his eyes have yet to leave you. 

The only noise to fill the room within brief moments of shuffling and the clanging of metal against metal is the low hum of your speakers that plays a rerun of old halloween movies along its channel. It's something you allowed to run within your house whether you were watching it or not, it just provides a means for a more seasonal white noise to your everyday. 

“Okay, i’ve got everything!” 

You turn to him with cheery demeanor as your findings are sprawled out neatly upon the counter for his proper check. And with a kind thumbs up and a smile he lifts himself up from the chair to meet your right as he readied his own pumpkin for its demise. 

Sharply does his knife sink its way into the pumpkins top, sawing at its close stem with furrowed brow and concentrated intent with every flex of his hands on the blade's handle. You watch him for a moment as his hair falls in front of his face ever so slightly, burning urge wells up inside of you to bring it out of his face, but you fear to test your luck. Instead you resort to cutting open your own, but with much less elegance as he does. The jagged cuts of the blade against raw vegetable leave its circle around the top growing to be a much more unrecognizable shape, as the cuts of your blade are often redirected every half of the slice. As Joel finishes up his own work, he checks on your progress to find disarray. 

“Oh darlin’ now, now let me help you. What the hell are ya even doing?” 

Curious tone coats a laugh that escapes him as he moves himself closer to you, smoothly moving himself behind you to cup your body with his own, his hand finds yours as the fingers gripping the blade weaken at the feeling of calloused fingertips grazing over the notches of your fingers. You feel his warmth behind you, he's left only a sliver of room between his body and your own, though the intensity felt between yours and his bodies felt as though there was nothing between them at all. And the part of his body that did touch you felt like every nerve you had in your body was directed to that place. The cocked elbow of your right hand is completely engulfed by the muscled emulation of the man behind you. Feeling his bicep strain to fall in the same position you did, as means to merely grip onto your hand. You turn your face to the right of you to look at him once more, only to be greeted with his own to be mere inches away from your own as he leaned over your shoulder. His eyes catch yours, you watch as they flicker up and down your face with a semblance of shock that was a foreign look upon his stern and confident usual demeanor. 

A moment passes as you two take each other in, a moment too long. But soon after he lets out a breathy laugh, the feeling of his breath coated your face, lingering on your lips as he awkwardly smiled. He turns his face back to the pumpkin you had been meaning to cut.

“Now, you’re not properly doin it with the right motion. You’ve gotta dig deep, ya see?” 

He guides your hand out of the jagged lines of the interior, and moves your blade to an untouched part of its top. You feel the grip of his hand engulf yours, and he steadies his forearm on your own to push down the first cut within it. And slowly with a heavy-gripped explanation, he shows you slice for slice how to properly do it. 

“I’ll let ya try the last cut. See if ya learned anythin’ or if i’d just done it for ya.” 

His body lets up from yours with a moment's hesitation, a feeling of coldness wafts over exposed skin that sinks deep within your core-- your body yearned for his even greater now that it had just a taste of what it felt like to be near him. To be overwhelmed with his scent, to hear the low hum of his voice directly within your ear. 

You cut the final piece with decent enough elegance for celebration. Throwing hands up in the air after dropping the knife you find a melodramatic expression of victory only fitting to cut the air of tension that surrounded you two. But as your bout of over exaggerated victory overtook your senses, you latch arms around his high shoulders in expression of said joy. But as the light above you illuminates his face, he seems taken aback. His eyes look needy, lit up by the white light of your kitchen's main light source. You kept hands wrapped around his neck for a moment longer as you took in the look upon his face. It looked longingly, lips slightly parted and pink, your eyes both meet and you feel your world go silent. 

“Ah, my bad i'm getting ahead of myself-”

You lower yourself off his neck but you feel rough hands keep you in by the waist. your top having ridden up your stomach to reach his neck you felt as his fingers gripped onto bare skin once cold now feeling like a thousand suns piercing every nerve in your body. You felt weak at the knees. 

“No worries sweetheart.” 

His voice grew darker. And he looks at you with a smile laced with something you’ve never seen on him before, pure desire. 

“Mind if i'm real with ya for a moment?” 

He waits for a response, and a nod from you suffices. 

“Now, I won’t let ya play dumb anymore. You don't think I see ya watchin me? Feel your eyes on me when I'm comin’ home? Even when I'm here fixin things for ya, you can't take yer eyes off me darlin’. And I've got to say I'm flattered, ain't every day a pretty girl like you takes interest in a old man like me. But i've got to say i'm bout’ tired pretending, what do you say mm?” 

The taunting hum at the end of his words vibrates against you as though a simple gust of wind against your face could set your whole body aflame. You’re at a loss for words, feeling your body engulfed in heat as it sets in what he’s just said. The feeling of the words vibrates throughout your whole body, feeling yourself soak at even the implication of his lips upon yours. You look at his eyes hooded by desire, feeling his thumb trace your lower back barely above the waistband of your shorts as he begins to toy with you ever so slightly. 

“I need a yes or no darlin’.” 

“Y..yes. Please Joel” 

“Good girl.” 

His lips slam against yours at the simplest of begging, the need for you superseding any sort of joy he got from watching you beg for him. He craved you, for much longer than you could have ever accounted for. You could tell by the touch of your lips, the desperation of its tongue as it tasted every bit of your mouth as though it had been starved. A hand traces your body in such intent it's as if he had already mapped out every crevasse and indentation of your body and only now is able to touch what it's yearned for for so long. Tangled fingers push his hair back from his face as you switch between holding his jaw and gripping at his hair, his own fingers snaking their way down to your thighs, lifting you up onto the empty counter space within your kitchen and your hands fell to the back of cold marble that contrasted with your heated skin. And as Joel continued to worship your body with his lips, you could still hear the muted screams of a horror film playing as your own began to meld with it.

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 25

Uniform/Authority Kink - Minho

!dom Minho

It wasn’t often that he brought home his costumes from on set, he much preferred to leave them behind and come home to rest for the night before going back to work the next day.

This was different however with his latest drama. His role is that of a policeman, and you have never quite seen him so into a job before. You shouldn’t really be surprised, with the amount of times he would bring out his military uniform because he looked and felt oh so good in it, a cop get-up is only a little different.

“Come here,” Minho calls out to you from the other side of your house, “I need your opinion.”

You get up from your comfortable position on the couch and skip down the hallway in the direction of his voice. Your jaw drops when you see him in uniform, it is form fitted and tight, and you suddenly become just a little bit jealous that the world is going to see him looking so damned handsome.

“Well, hello there officer,” You purr, falling into your role with ease, “How can I help you?”

Minho stifles a groan at how easily you succumb to his desires, it is so natural to you, that he doesn’t even need to ask you to begin a scene. You aren’t an award winning actor like Minho, but you have enough experience from helping him that you find it very easy to improvise, especially when there is something in it for you.

“You know what you are here for,” He replies, “Come into my office for questioning.”

You nod solemnly as he turns, fighting the urge to grab his ass when you follow him into the study. He sits at his desk, and you sit opposite him, resting your hands on the table as you await for him to go on.

“Did you do it?” He asks bluntly.

“Did I do what, officer?” You ask him back, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Minho angers quickly, slamming his hand down on the desk and you jump in fright, your heartbeat accelerating so fast. You try to remain calm but he is livid, and it terrifies you.

“You can’t avoid this,” He warns you, now trailing his fingers over your hand, “I need a confession, and I’m not afraid to force it out of you.”

A threat. One that has your cheeks flushing red, intimidating you a little, but turning you on a lot. How are you supposed to overpower a man with a gun? He is at least a foot taller than you, and he is solid muscle from the neverending array of sports and fitness he partakes in. You are no match for him, but that only excites you more, because you always put up a fight.

“I have nothing to say,” You reply, before digging your grave deeper, “Good luck getting a confession out of me, cop.”

Minho stands up, quickly reminding you of your place, of his power, and you quickly regret your sharp tongue.

“I always get a confession,” He murmurs, grabbing the neck of your shirt to drag you up onto your feet, “I make these appointments after hours so that nobody hears what I need to do to get them either.”

You are in trouble now, as he roughly guides you up against the wall. You feel the hard metal of his gun in the holster on his hip, and you are sorely reminded that you have no way out now, except to confess.

“There won’t be a confession,” You argue, turning your head to the side as he licks up your neck to your ear, “You’re sick, using your power like this.”

Minho chuckles, one hand moving to grab your breasts through your barely-there shirt, as his other hand reaches for the elastic of your leggings to begin tugging them down your legs.

“Relax,” He murmurs, “I’m here to make you feel good… I wouldn’t be deserving of a confession if I didn’t give you something, would I?”

You raise a brow at him, trying to understand what he is offering. He isn’t there to hurt you… but to pleasure you? And you are suddenly so much more fucking aroused, following him back to the desk as he strips you naked, though his clothes remain mostly on.

“You better make this good, officer Choi,” You push him, spreading your legs once you are seated, giving him the perfect view, “If you do well enough, maybe I’ll remember what it is that I was meant to hide from you.”

Minho glares at you, unbuckling his belt to let his pants fall down, the fabric pooling at his feet as he steps closer to you.

“You don’t get to threaten me,” He growls at you, his hand instantly settling at your core as you spread your legs wider, “You’re in more trouble than you realise.”

You smirk at him, though you instantly regret it as he thrusts two fingers into you without warning. You grip to his shoulders to steady yourself, maintaining a daring eye contact with him, though you are scared.

“I will get a confession,” He assured you, “But I’m not sure how good you are going to be at speaking when I am finished with you.”

You know him well, and you know that when he wants to, he can fuck you to a state that no other man can. He makes you almost brain-dead, an incoherent mess… and that is exactly what he is going to do now.

“Yes, officer.”

———

Kinktober Masterlist!

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

Can I have some platonic fluff between Ahsoka and a fem!reader who's been bullied? Please??

Yes you cannn! I don’t know what has happened in your life considering I don’t know you, or why your requesting this but to anyone who has ever been bullied your worth is in more then just their words 💗

A Cᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ Vᴇɴᴏᴍ

➜ Pairing: Platonic!Ahsoka x reader

➜ Synopsis: Spiteful words were a sickness. They infected you, plaguing you with doubt and fright while attacking every set of praise stored away in your mind to twist it into something vile and untrue. Being a recipient to the hate was a reality you had you had come to accept over the course of your training as a padawan and while it tore you apart the most while you were a youngling, you assumed that at your age you would be immune to it, but after a padawan from your childhood that often infected you with foul words reappears again, you're self esteem is left shattered but Ahsoka is there to pick up the peices.

➜ Warnings: Fem!reader, y/n used, mentions of bullying and degradation towards the reader, fluff

➜ Word Count: 1.0k

➜ Notes: I've been posting sm Ahsoka stuff latley hahaha

Sᴛᴀʀᴡᴀʀs Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

“Y/n?” you heard Ahsoka before you saw her, she came to a stop in front of you, her brows furrowed and worry washing over her as she looked at your trembling figure. Although she couldn't see that you were crying, she knew you well enough that she could tell something was very wrong. Kneeling down in front of you she spoke, “Are you okay? Why are you out here?”   

You hadn't meant for her to see you like this, or, for a matter of the fact, anyone to see you like this. Hugging your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead against them so that you were looking down into your lap, or at least you would have been if your eyes hadn't been shut tightly as hot tears ran down your cheeks and neck. You hadn't meant for her to see you like this, that’s why you had chosen this spot to run to. Because it was tucked away in the corner of the Temple gardens, guarded by large bushes of flowers and looming trees, that shielded you from the prying eyes of others.   

You didn’t dare look up even as she placed her hand on your shoulder comfortingly and asked you what had happened and why you were crying once more. You didn’t want her seeing you like this, you needed to pull yourself together for her, even if it was just for a short bit of time, you didn’t want her thinking about you as weak or pathetic the way everyone else seemed to.  

“Please tell me what happened?” she asked again gently. You let out a shaky breath wiping at your tears hurriedly and sniffing. You pulled your lips into an unconvincing smile and let out a rough laugh.   

“Nothing happened, I'm fine, it doesn’t even matter.” Your voice shook as you spoke, wavering unconvincingly and you knew she didn’t believe.  

“You know that’s not true just as much as I do,” she stated, her tone was hard but then softened as she continued, “You can tell me anything, I’m always here for you.” You pursed your lips, closed your eyes and looked up at the sky, praying to your maker to give you the strength to get through this interaction.  

“Please Ahsoka, just go, I don’t want to bother you with this.” You couldn’t look at her, because you knew that if you did, you’d break. “Besides,” you whispered, “you already know.” You had told Ahsoka about the relentless bullying the other kids had put you through as a youngling. When you became a padawan you no longer saw them as often and it came to a stop, but their words stuck with you and every now and then you’d bump into one of them at the temple and they would throw a weak insult at you and you’d break down like a little kid all over again.   

Their words seeped into your mind like venom once more, corrupting your thoughts to sound like theirs. Maybe you really were pathetic, sitting here crying over petty insults like this. How could you ever call yourself a Jedi?   

Her face fell quickly, worry shining in her eyes and her lips pulled into a deep frown as she leaned in to hug you tightly. That’s all it took before your body was shaking against hers and the tears that had been sitting in your waterline came pouring down your face again as you practically gasped for breath.  

“Our masters they put us, me and Jana, together for training a-and she – god s-she just kept beating me and that was fine, but when our masters came back and st-started to watch our m-match she-” you had to stop talking, your words drowned by tears.   

“She what?” Ahsoka urged you to continue, rubbing your back in a circular motion and pulling away so she could look you in your eye. Her jaw was clenched and anger was rolling of her in waves, she hated to see you like this, and it made her mad that people could be so cruel as to do this to someone as sweet as you. She knew firsthand how much you cared for others, always taking care of those closest to you before yourself.   

“S-she made a complete fool of me on purpose, in front of our masters, and then she started calling me names, telling me I was a pathetic excuse of a Jedi and brought shame to the order...” You cried, looking away from Ahsoka and bringing a hand to your face, furiously wiping away your tears.  

“None of those things are true. You’re an amazing Jedi, and an incredibly kind person, she's completely wrong.” Ahsoka reassured you, but you just shook your head, your reply coming out in a rough whisper, throat raw from crying. The venomous words of others that had been drilled deeply into your mind made it hard to believe her. 

“You’re just saying that, everyone is.”    

Ahsoka didn’t know how to get you to believe her, there was nothing but truth to her words. Everyone she spoke to had only good things to say about you, praising your fighting technique and kind character.   

“No, I mean every word of it. The order is lucky to have someone so skilled and as kind as you. You're everything a Jedi should be.” Although not convinced you nodded along to her words, taking slow steady breaths as you tried to calm yourself down. It took a moment, but slowly the tears stopped and your breathing evened out.   

You leaned forward pulling Ahsoka into another hug and closing your eyes as you whispered a ‘thank you’ to her. She replied to your gratitude with a nod, snaking her arms around you and holding you just as tightly as you held her. The two of you stayed like that for a while, and she hoped that you could one day grow to see yourself as the amazing person you truly were. 

[sunny-mercya]

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

08. Therapy

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Platonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Masterlist | Previous / Next |

Warning -> Mention of Self-Harm

Call the doc, I must be sick

Better get me my medicine 

Think I might need another prescription 

You hadn't been to your therapist, Mrs. Takana, since your last junior school year. She wanted you to start Senior year without any form of Medication or sessions, you were getting stable enough at this point and giving it try, in her opinion, would be good.

Being back now, in the child-friendly decorated like room of, felt off to say, almost weird. Nothing had really changed in here, besides a few additional toys—you guessed at least, because the they do look a lot more than before. 

You sat on the couch playing with some buildings blocks, which laid on the coffee table in front of you, as you waited for her to come in. Waiting in any kind of medical institutions was making you always anxious. 

Mrs.Takana opens and closing shortly afterwards the door, smiling at you and giving a short greeting, walking in with the folders tucked under her arm and carrying a tray with drinks and sweets. Putting the tray down onto the table, she takes her folders and takes a seat opposite of you.

«How are you doing [Name]?» Mr.Takana asks you, skimming through the papers and already begun to scribble down some notes. 

«I'm, I'm not sure.....» you told her, not really knowing how to properly word whats on your plaguing mind or how to tell her of the current situation you're in.

In all honestly, if it wasn't for your parents and Sachiko, you wouldn't have been coming back here at all. It wasn't like you didn't like Mr.Takana, she was a great therapist and helped you greatly during your elementary and junior years, but you thought—a dumb thought, that you could handle it on your own, how it wasn't and wouldn't get so worse at all. 

Your parents had come back for a visit, something they would do every three months or so to simply check up on Shinichi and you and because, they aren't admitting it aloud but you could tell from the way your mothers face brightens when she had the chance to eat some traditional and authentic sweets again, they sometimes do get homesick too.

They had, to be more precisely it was your dad who did, picked up on your behaviour. Noticing the self harming and destructive patterns, which had resurfaced again—though they hadn't completely gone, never would perhaps. How moody you were getting, snapping every so often at your mom for being too overbearing, overwhelming lovely, to you. The obvious lack of constant sleep and when you do get the chance to finally find some rest—you would wake up screaming from the nightmares.

Your tries of desperately covering everything with make-up. How anxious and paranoid you had gotten, whenever at night the front door isnt locked or the curtains closed.

Something was troubling you, bringing you into a state of fright. When Sachiko had elaborate her thoughts of possible why's, your mom had been the one to make appointment calls right away and dad reasoning with you why you should start with therapy again. They only meant it well.

~~~

«That's fine, how about we play a bit with the building blocks and you tell me when your ready, take your time.» Mrs.Takana, true to her words, was starting to take the blocks and stacking them. She wasn't going to push you into telling her, knowing well enough that stressing a patient would cause more harm than good. And time you took, a hour had passed with you two just sitting in silence and stacking blocks and eating some sweets. 

«I....well it started, I mean.....» you paused, discarding the blocks completely, putting them aside on the ground. Taking one of the mystery puzzle boxes, mysterious because the picture had been covered up, from under the table. You could focus more if you do puzzles.

«Shin-chan had disappeared without a word or that's what he wanted me to believe. I seriously had thought he had died, I was worried sick but it turns out Shinichi is just ignoring me on purpose, because he calls Ran every so often. I don't know, it just really hurts that he does this........and like—» you paused, scratching your wrist as hard as you could before continuing.

Mrs.Takana letting you as you pleased, observing you. She knew exactly when she had to step in, to stop you from going into a full blown panic attack. She takes notes of everything you were telling her, about your troubles and the emotions you were feeling.

«Are you able to get some sleep?» she asks you, one of the few serious questions she would ask you in between.

«No. Just a few minimal hours here and there, but most of the times I drinks lots of black coffee to keep myself functional awake.»

«And your nightmares?»

«Getting worse with each day. I mostly sleep in my parents room nowadays to get a bit of comfort, but it ain't helping anymore...»

«[Name], had the thoughts of self-harming occurred again? Did you restart with hurting yourself?»

You nibbled on your lower lips, bitting and pulling skin. You had gone silent after her last question. Putting all your focus on the puzzle now, which you had almost completed. A picture of cats it was. There would be no use in lying about it.

«Yeah.....I did....again......I tried not to think about, but when I had looked in the mirror and saw myself, I couldn't, couldn't help it and took the next best blade and start to cut..........honestly, the only thing I fear about this, is that they will noticing it, I think they already did tho, and like be disappointed in me....»

~~~

Four hours you had talked with Mrs.Takana and now you had to attend weekly, if nothing comes between it, a session with her.

Walking out of the clinic, it actually was more a separate ward of the Hospital, you waved at Sachiko, which was coming to pick you up. Conan was with her. 

«Why are you here munchkin?» you had crouched down to him and tapped his nose as a greeting, a small smile on your lips. 

«Auntie Yukiko had asked me to go with Sachiko, she also told me to tell you, that she wants to go shopping with you tomorrow. Ne [Nickname], what were you doing here? Are you sick?»

Your mom wanting to go shopping with you on her second last day, before flying back to the USA, was so her. 

«I had a appointment, nothing to worry about. Anyways, Sachi I need to go to the pharmacy first and then we could go to an Café, sounds good or? I'm a bit hungry after all.» standing back up, you took Conans hand in yours and starting to walk.

Mrs.Takana had given you a prescription for a few medications, it was more than what you got prescribed the first time. 

«Oh [Name]~ I have to tell you about the new make-up collection from Fionala! I can't wait to – » Sachiko rambled on about girly stuff, Conan blending her out.

Conan knew exactly what sort of appointment you had here. Back then, when he still had been Shinichi, he sometimes would accompany to them, giving you support and waiting for you. 

Conan didn't knew that your mental health had gotten so bad again, but then again with him staying by Ran, how was he able to know at all? He have to ask his parents tonight about it.

Pills and potions

we're overdosing

[barrenclan]

Redpelt sighed, surprisingly quite content. In the early times of the day, she could relax with her sister, not fretting over clan matters. Calm before the storm, as they say.

Her eyelids began to droop, her head resting against the moss. Her sister was purring next to her, no doubt having a wonderful dream. The rest of the clan won’t be awake for a bit, and the idea of sleeping in longer did sound nice. Maybe just for a few more minutes.

“Redpelt.” “GaCH!” Redpelt yelps, jumping to her paws with bristling fur. Blacknose lets out a little noise as Redpelt taps her head, but Blacknose can sleep through anything.

“Cormorantpaw! Don’t-Don’t startle me like that!” Redpelt scolds, though admittedly she doesn’t sound intimidating. Cormorantpaw stares at her, his gaze unwavering. Does he even blink?

“Sorry,” Cormorantpaw says dully. “Should we start training?”

Redpelt almost cringes at the idea. What if an adder comes out and bites one of them? Or a scorpion! Cootstorm usually isn’t awake this early, and neither is Pinepaw.

“I was thinking we could go closer to the dry areas with not a lot of water. At this time, prey will probably be sunning over there.”

Redpelt lets out an internal sigh of relief. Adders usually don’t hang out there too much. Scorpions do sometimes, but after the Daffodilpaw incident, we do a good job of being more careful! But Cormorantpaw wasn’t around then, so maybe he doesn’t-

“Redpelt?” “Ah! Sorry, Cormorantpaw. Yes, let’s go hunt over there.” Redpelt says, trying her best to keep a cheery tone as she starts heading out of camp.

Cormorantpaw doesn’t usually wake me up for training, she realizes as she walks. Maybe he’s just getting more accustomed to clan life!

But Cormorantpaw seemed off that day. He never quite landed as good as normal after leaps, and more often then not, he missed the prey. Redpelt usually had to jump in and save the catch for him.

He seemed slower, too. He was always checking behind his back, mumbling something about dark. 

“It’s only dawn. It isn’t dark at all.” Redpelt would remind him. He would ignore her.

Redpelt didn’t like to consider herself an angry cat. She considered herself a lot of things, but angry wasn’t one of them.

But Cormorantpaw’s odd.. temper set her off that day. 

The way he would suddenly walk away in the middle of her explaining something to go stare at something in the distance, or would get distracted midway through a catch made her some type of angry.

He’s acting like Pinepaw! Not that that’s a bad thing, of course. Pinepaw is fine. Wait, what if he’s sick?! Oh, and Cootstorm is already stressed enough! He was with Blacknose earlier, what if she gets sick? What if Cootstorm gets sick? What if Mallowstar gets sick and dies? I’m not ready to be leader, I’m not-

Redpelt stops her internal panic when she realizes Cormorantpaw isn’t in front of her, trying to catch a shrew. In fact, the shrew was gone. Along with Cormorantpaw.

Oh, no, the thing that came for Rainhaze is back! Now my apprentice?!

Redpelt turns around to dash back to camp and tell everyone, but freezes. Cormorantpaw is sulking in front of her, sitting on a stone and gazing at something in the distance.

“Cormorantpaw! You gave me a fright for a second. I thought an adder got to ya.” Cormorantpaw just joined. Don’t let him worry over clan things.

“Sorry.” He says quietly. He doesn’t stand up. He was the one who wanted to train today! What’s wrong with him? Okay, how about you try conversation! Yeah, yeah that’ll work!

“What are you looking at?” Redpelt asks, sitting down next to him. He doesn’t reply.

She leans in, trying to focus on whatever it is. It’s a loner, she realizes. Oh! Two loners! And some kits! How sweet! Why is Cormorantpaw staring at that?

“Did you know those cats?” She asks. Maybe those are his parents! And siblings!

“No, at least I don’t think so..”

“Oh. Well, they don’t seem to be bothering any cat, so I’m sure it’s fine.. We don’t have to chase them out. Yet, anyways. Goodness, I hope they don’t turn hostile of anything.. Why are you watching them?”

Cormorantpaw doesn’t reply, seeming lost in thought.

“Y’know, the clan needs more kits. If you ever want any in the future, I’m sure every cat would be-“

“I don’t think I want kits,” Cormorantpaw says, his dull tone mixing with a softer one.

“Oh! Well, that’s fine, but maybe your mind will change! You’ve been spending so much time with Daffodilpaw, so maybe one day you’ll have kits with her!”

Redpelt! Don’t be so harsh on the poor kid! He doesn’t want kits, and that’s fine! Oh, but the clan does need more.. Wait! So what? There are future generations to come, so what if he doesn’t want-

“I think,” Cormorantpaw starts, snapping Redpelt out of her thoughts. “I think I might not even want to be mates with Daffodilpaw. With any she-cat, for that matter. I think I might want to be mates with toms.”

Redpelt’s ears perk slightly, glancing at Cormorantpaw. Cormorantpaw seems to be thinking, his own ears raising up.

“Yeah. Yeah, I.. I think I do like toms. That feels nice to get off my chest.”

“I’m sure it does. Do you want to tell everyone else, or will this be our little secret?” Redpelt asks, smiling lightly.

Cormorantpaw thinks for a moment. “Just our little secret for now.”

Redpelt presses her head on top of Cormorantpaw’s. “That’s fine. Now, come on. We need to get the prey back to camp. Do you think it’s sunbaked by now? Oh, I hope not. What if we didn’t bring enough prey back, and we-“

“It’s fine. We can say we were practicing fighting if so.” Cormorantpaw insists, his dull tone returning as he hops off the rock. He starts to stalk away, but before grabbing his prey, he pauses and turns his head to face Redpelt. “Thanks for.. helping me, I guess. See you later.” He says, grabbing the prey and bounding away.

Redpelt could have sworn he heard her say ‘mom’ after the end.

(mother-son/older sister-younger brother redpelt and cormorantpaw my beloved (not romantic))

AWWH more fanfiction!! This is so adorable <3

I really like the running detail of Redpelt constantly interrupting herself with her spiraling trains of thought. Anxiety will do that to ya.

Her saying that Cormorantpaw is "acting like Pinepaw" is really funny. He's being all weird and distracted... oh, just like that weird little guy. [Seinfeld voice] Not that there's anything wrong with that!

I love how hard you all believe in Cormorantpaw's self-introspection ability, like everyone is pushing at him going "come on buddy, let that one thought ping around to the front". Someday he'll get there, maybe.

Haha, accurately guessing that Cormorantpaw has mommy issues as well as daddy issues. They're just very different types of complexes.

Very nice, thank you!!

[pktearsoftazmily]

It's been days since the surgery of his brotherly figure and his father, leaving Lucas to be more independent with his own self care needs. Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but it meant Lucas had to catch the public transport, which never frightened him. In fact, it gave the psychic more confidence to be more independent, help him see that he too, can survive like the others could. The more he ventured into the outside world, the less anxious he started to become.

He also had began to take better care of his health too, often carrying a face mask on his person in case he'd be around large crowds, for the sake of his poor immune system. Lucas wanted to not get sick easily any more to worry his parents, realising how much they cared about him through the hard times lately. It's his way of making sure none of them could be more stressed than they already were. Lucas is growing up now, so it's his responsibility to look after himself properly.

Ever since his grandfather, the Mayor of Utopia, had mentioned about strange activity in the sky, Lucas had been secretly doing some research on his mobile whenever he could, writing down anything that might give some clues over what the cause could be. He's enlisted the help of his trusty friends, and his brother too, though asked the three not to repeat anything to the limbless couple (or any of the found family) for now. Lucas is handling this his way.

Today, he's caught wind of a story of a town not far in the news. The article caught his attention, immediately pulling up the post to read it.

Strange Sightings Found in Belring Residents in the town of Belring have been reporting of unusual activity that have made them fear for their lives. Claims of flying saucers had been made to the local police. However, the police had ruled out that it's anything suspicious, telling the residences of Belring not to panic, and to "stay indoors during night time". One witness claims that they had an encounter with an alien-like creature that could not be explained during on their way home. They had just finished work late one Monday when they suddenly saw something flying in the air that looked strangely like a UFO. The witness also describes how they were shaken up by the encounter, saying they were alarmed when the UFO began to approach them. They started to run home in fright. "I couldn't believe it," they responded. "I thought I was going to die. I legit saw a f***ing UFO man. I couldn't believe it. I swear on my life it's a f***ing UFO."

Unusual flying activity over the sky. Oh, god, it's a bloody UFO! Had his grandfather been receiving reports of a UFO? Is this the cause of the activity?

Wasting no time, Lucas shares the news post with his friends, and brother, telling them to look at the article. It isn't long before he gets texts in the group chat. After a long talk, the four agree to visit Belring in private to investigate, with Lucas reminding them to keep this all a secret for now.

Nobody in the found family needed to know this. Not right now. If aliens are involved, then it's something only the four of them can handle. Lucas' family did not have psychic powers. Not like the four teenagers did.

So, Lucas states they need to come up with a game plan. Fast. They'd agree on a time and date to visit Belring; it also had to be at night to see the aliens.

Once everything had been finalised, Lucas closes the post, making sure nobody could find any traces of his search history in case any of his family manages to somehow trace any of the history.

[savvythepirate]

Caught in the act

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @imalittleoutthere

The Request:

How about Barbossa gets an illness that has him bedridden, but even when he starts to feel better, he pretends he still feels sick because he likes the reader taking care of him?

***

Everyone knew how stubborn Barbossa could get, but no more stubborn then when he was unwilling to admit his own well-being.

His stubbornly attitude had eventually pulled the crew back from asking him, from wanting to maintain his good health. It’s come to a point later on where he made the impression he just didn’t care, completely putting a stop to look after and take care of himself. Just like everyone else, you were greatly worried about Barbossa and that’s when you decided to confront him the next morning.

With Barbossa being sick, it had you look back on those times when he took out anytime he had just to look after and take care of you. One of the things you will never forget is Barbossa was more strict and stern when you’ve come down with something and you wanted to give that back to him in return. The last few days as you’ve seen him walking about the ship, he looked pale and not very healthy. The first time you tried to ask what was going on, he brushed it off like it was almost nothing.

“You don’t look fine to me.” You say, folding your arms.

“No, I’m really okay. There is nothing going on with me. You already know that if there was, you would be the first to know about it.”

You had woken from a deep sleep, having it been the best sleep you’ve had in a long time. The first thing you did was escape your sleeping quarters to make your way to Barbossa’s own quarters. It was late morning so you expected for him to be awake as well.

After the first couple of knocks on the door that was met with no response, you turned the knob and discovered it was unlocked. The first step in, and the first thing you see is Barbossa completely knocked out on his bed. You debated if you should wake him, but with the illness is affecting him like this, you decided against it. As you turn to leave, Barbossa speaks up, taking you by surprise.

“I know you’re there, (Y/n).”

Because that was the last thing you had expected to happen, it had you flinch in fright before turning back around to face him once again.

You acted like Barbossa didn’t say anything, but not after he spoke again.

“Why aren’t you at your station?”

“Because we’re just worried about you, I was on my to it when I decided I couldn’t go without checking in on you first.”

“Well, now you know I’m fine. Just overslept is all.”

You didn’t agree, couldn’t agree with that garbage of lies.

“That’s very untrue, Barbossa. You don’t look fine to me, the last few days I’ve noticed your face turning pale and that this isn’t the first time you’ve overslept. Something is definitely going on, and I need to know right now. I’m not leaving until I do.”

“Don’t think you’re smarter then everyone else, (Y/n) because you’re not.”

“Okay, first off, I’m not trying to be. I’m not smarter then everyone else, Barbossa, I’m just more stubborn.”

“Right you are.”

Barbossa meant for that as an insult, but when you didn’t go over that, he was quite impressed how strong you really are.

“Just let me look after you today, I won’t hang around here for the whole day, I just mean by popping in every so often to keep up with how you’re doing, feeling.”

It falls silent yet again, but you could definitely feel that Barbossa is really thinking this through before agreeing to it.

He agrees, but only under one condition.

“Fine, if that will get you to do what you’re told and get the job done, I’ll allow it.”

“Right.. I’ll stop by in a little while. Get some rest, you need all the rest you can get.”

Happy now that you had settled things to where you want them with Barbossa, you could now concentrate on your daily tasks more easily, almost nothing an distract you now.

When it comes time to check up, he made it clear that he only wanted you to be the one to do so. Asking him why that was, you were taken aback and flattered with his response at the same time.

“You’re the only thing that can cure me.”

You were the antidote in his eyes, you were what cured him.

Very flattered and honored indeed. What comes next is a game changer, not long after he finally makes a full recovery, he begins to have you believe he’s sick at least once a month. Throughout taking care of him, you begin to grow suspicious and question the fact of him being sick was true at all. The first few times, Barbossa doesn’t act like he would to some kind of illness latched onto him as it usually would.

You begin to test the suspicions that grew within, taking place in his cabin. Just a few times you’ve confronted him about the doubts and he would only get a little defensive as a response. After making sure he had everything he needed, for probably the hundredth time, you made it seem like you were going to your station that day. Barbossa wanted to have the small window open and asked for you to open it before leaving.

This is where you test things.

“Can you please open the window a little for me?”

“Barbossa, we’re just about to run into a tropical storm and I think that will only make you feel even worse, you might get too cold from it. I think the best thing in the world for you right now, is for you to get some rest.”

“You’re probably right. Wake me when you come by again, will you?”

“Of course.”

Stepping outside the cabin door, the ship unexpectedly encountered a huge wave, knocking you over.

When you hear Barbossa on the other side, it sounded he had crashed on the floor with you, and that’s when you stepped in. Stepping in at the right time, yet dangerous moment was what confirmed your suspicions. As soon as that door shut behind you, Barbossa quietly got up to open the window and came crashing down when the big wave hit. Letting yourself in, you see Barbossa had the window open and was using the opening to keep his balance standing back on his feet.

He turns back around to get back to bed, but stops abruptly when he sees you there.

“Oh..”

“Feeling better, Colombo?”

He remained standing there, shocked he had been caught red handed.

When Barbossa still said nothing, it was now up to you to find things out.

“What’s going on? Why would you tell me you’re sick when it turns out all a lie? You can’t be scaring me like that, Barbossa!”

“I don’t mean to worry you, (Y/n). You’re right, I’m not sick.”

“Then what’s going on? Why did you only pretend?”

“Because I like having you around, I love the way you care.”

As sweet as that was, it was something you almost laughed at, but never in a mocking way, you weren’t cruel at all.

“You didn’t have to do all this just for that, you could have just told me.”

“I know.”

“Apology accepted.” you say, taking notice of the guilty look that appeared on his face.

This is something the pair of you will have to look back on.

More good memories to keep in storage, for the future ahead.

Wherever you may be.

***

@savvythepirate

Tags: @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence

Requests: OPEN

What’s next: A request from @iwillstealyourtoes-wattpad

[cosmoss-express]

Astro observations (part 2)

!DO NOT STEAL, CHANGE OR COPY! THIS POST IS PROTECTED AND I'LL SHOW UP AS YOUR SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON!

🥀 People with Leo Mercury (especially retrograde) folks are the type to have stage fright before any big performance/presentation/exam to the point where they're feeling sick and trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind, then still manage to nail it yet have no idea how it happened

kinda like they just black out and get possessed by a demon or smth, like, they don't even know how they nailed themselves

🥀 Lilith on the 4th house can make you rebel and negate your own roots (could be a good or a bad thing based on how you grew up) OR your childhood was centered around chaotic Lilith-type-individuals who didn't really understood how badly their actions affected you (since the 4th house also represents early home life) and "healthy family dynamics" is a very distant concept to you

🥀 Sun conjunct Saturn in synastry can make friendships/relationships last a long time but the Saturn person can have a hard time getting out their routine and be too rigid with the Sun, in turn the Sun person can grow feelings of envy and resentment over Saturn's social status and possessions. They could stick together for the good moments they shared together even if the connection doesn't bring them joy anymore

Even if they separate, the two still feel connected to each other somehow

🥀 With harmonious Moon/Aphrodite (1388) aspects the native's mom could've focused heavily on her looks; the native could be hyperfeminine and find comfort and peace in being surrounded by beauty

🥀 Istg every Libra I've met gets excited around fire signs. Every time I see interactions between them, the world around them just disappears lol

🥀 Moon dominant women, how painful are your periods? I'm trying to see whether the moon hates us or not

🥀 Venus-Neptune/Pluto aspects in the natal can make people feel drawn towards you unconsciously, bringing in a lot of (often) secret admirers since Pluto's influence pulls people in but also scares them to death lol

I have Venus trine Pluto and every time I talk to people, especially men, I literally cross my fingers and pray they're not a psycho rip 💀💀💀

🥀 Aries/Mars in the 8th natives are BIG into horror, thrillers, anything that involves blood and gore scenes. The downside is that these individuals could face a violent death and could have faced actual real life violence

🥀 Uranus in the 8th could experience chaotic high highs and low lows when it comes to money. During transits, the native could receive money unexpectedly, win the lottery or go bankrupt. Uranus is literally the Russian Roulette of the Solar system

🥀 People with prominent Leo placements or Sun conjunct ASC, will be put into situations where they WILL STAND OUT one way or another. Leos do get attention and can be attention seeking. But most of the attention they get just gravitates towards them naturally (I hope that makes sense)

Story time: When I was in 1st grade, my parents couldn't afford a school uniform by the time school started (here it's mandatory to wear one) and I went on the first day in a DARK RED pullover and BLACK pants. Guess who stood out the most in the class picture full of little girls dressed in WHITE-BLUE uniforms? My teeny tiny Leo stelluim self ✨✨✨

🥀 Gemini and Libra men are more self-centered than Leo men.......I said what I said

🥀 Aquarius culture is being friends with a lot of people, yet only ONE person knows all your tea, or NONE at all

🥀 Mars + Moon in the 1st folks CAN'T 👏🏻 STAY 👏🏻 F*CKING 👏🏻 STILL. They always need to do something to let that energy out otherwise they start bottling that in and it turns into frustration.

🥀 Mars+ Moon in synastry = biting your s/o because they're so cute ❤❤❤

🥀 Cancer+Virgo+Libra placements in the natal can make someone a control freak since Cancers are all about (especially emotional) security, wanting all the signs, all the warnings before they proceed with projects and relationships while Virgos and Libras tend to try to control their surroundings and habits as much as possible, very often fearing their own judgement.

On one hand , these people are considerate, on the other they can get stuck in their minds, fully drowning in their fears. Because of this, the native might think they're lazy. Like, seriously, I want to give these people a hug 🥺🥺

Happy Spooky Month and Scorpio season ya'll, love youuu 💖💕💕

[desiredmalfoy]

Maybe Just A Little Jealous

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Genre: Fluff!! Just pure fluff!!

Universe: No Voldy :)

Word Count: 1.5K

Warning: Some injuries described. Nothing graphic :)

Summary: Draco gets a bit jealous and it leads to him getting hurt.

Note: Hello!!! I’m back from writers block!! I’m back with more Draco fluff! It’s unedited. Please don’t be afraid to tell me if you see a mistake :)

Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated and adored.

{Draco Masterlist} { Main Masterlist }

{Credit to owner of gif}

Care for Magical Creatures would be starting soon. You were late once again after accidentally opening up your book in your dorm. Causing you quite a fright and you basically fought to control the blasted book. You had to make yourself look presentable before making your way to class, meaning that you would be even more late. You were jogging to class as the heavy book bag hit the small of your back and the book moved in an attempt to be free once again. 

Everyone seemed to be clustered in a group and snickering and laughing followed as you had finally made it, barely on time. 

“What did I miss?” You whisper to Pansy as you caught your breath secretly. You weren’t made to be running like this. 

Draco turned his attention to you as soon as he heard your voice. He had been worried as he had not seen you at all today. Afraid you were sick or something had happened to you, he felt relieved to see you arrive to class finally. A small smile came onto his face but left quickly as he turned his attention to the scene in front of him. He didn’t want you to catch him staring and thinking it was weird. 

You noticed though from your peripheral vision that Draco was looking at you. You attempted to act as if you noticed nothing in order to not embarrass yourself. You had a little crush on Draco….well more like a huge crush on him. His attitude wasn’t your favorite and his treatment of others was very questionable at times. But you knew deep down he wasn’t truly like that, because of how he treated you. The two of you often spent late night studying in the common room. Sometimes there was a calming silence between you two and other nights you barely finished anything. You like to think that was the real Draco.

“Nothing much other than Potter is about to be completely destroyed by that hippogriff.” Pansy let out a snicker. She then turned her attention back to you. “Why are you late?”

“Nothing… I just lost track of time.”

“You sure about that?” Draco inserted himself in your conversation. “You? The same person who is constantly hurrying us all to get to class was late? Mental isn’t it?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Hello to you too Malfoy. And I guess there is a first for everything.” 

“Hmm… I guess there is.” He said with a small smile as he turned his attention back to the front.

“What was that about?” Pansy raised her eyebrows in amusement and a giggle escaped from her. 

You didn’t respond to her and instead pulled her wrist towards the front after Draco pushed other students out of the way and made his way forward. 

You saw as Harry neared the creature with caution to pet it. You stared in awe at the scene before you, seeing as you could not find the courage to get near a creature like that. In a matter of seconds Hagrid grabbed Harry and placed him on the back of the Hippogriff. 

“Is he mental?” You turned to Pansy in shock at your professor's actions. 

“Yeah but who cares? It’s Potter after all.”

Unknown to you Draco heard your little exchange with Pansy regarding Harry. Jealousy began. to burn within his veins as he felt the anger quickly reach new levels. He didn’t understand how you could be worried for someone like him

As Harry took off on the back of the hippogriff, a lowly comment slipped from your lips. One that made Draco even more jealous and angry. “Wow, that's so cool…”

As soon as Harry landed Draco made his way to the Hippogriff. You didn’t like where this was going. It was quite fast how everything occurred. Before you knew it, the beast stood on its hind legs and aimed at Draco. It hit him directly in his arm and the Slytherin dropped to the floor. 

Your hand lifted to your mouth quickly in shock. Draco laid down withering in pain. Hermione urging Hagrid to take him to the hospital broke you out of your daze. 

“Come on, let's go.” You grabbed Pansy’s wrist and followed behind Hagrid as he carried Draco back to the castle.

______

You had immediately followed them and waited for about an hour to be allowed to see Draco. Only to be told it would take a while more before anyone could see him. Seeing as you had Charms next and you had already been late today, you reluctantly left. But you made it your mission to come later to see him. 

It was now after dinner and you decided to come see him. You slipped a chocolate frog into the pocket of your robe to give it to him. You waved bye to your friends and left the great hall towards the hospital. Nervous about seeing Draco.

You walked through the arc of the hospital and instantly spotted Draco towards the end of the room. You made your way slowly, but the clicking of your shoes on the floor gave you away instantly. Draco was sitting up in his bed looking out the window as you approached him.

Draco’s head turned to you quickly as a smile appeared on his face but it was soon wiped off. You let yourself stop slightly at that. You continued making your way before you stopped right next to him. “How are you Draco?”

“What are you doing here?” Draco muttered lowly, it was barely audible.

“I can leave if you want.” You began to turn around and walk towards the door. You didn’t get far before he quickly reached over to grab you by the wrist.

“No, stay. Please stay here.” You looked into his eyes as he kept eye contact with you. “It’s the least you could do. I mean I’m here because of you.”

“Me? What did I do?” Your voice rising up in pitch at his incredulous accusation. His hand was still on your wrist. 

“If you hadn’t been fawning over Potter, I wouldn’t have tried to impress you and I wouldn’t be here right now.” Draco said with one of his signature smirks. 

Your nose scrunched up in disgust at that. “Me fawn over Potter? I would never! Plus I already fancy someone else.”

“Oh…” Draco’s face dropped at this revelation.

“Yeah, I seem to really fancy this really cute blond wizard with gray eyes, he’s a bit dramatic and just happens to be in Slytherin.”

“Who is it?”

“He’s also a little dense but that’s okay because he’s adorable to me. You’d think with how much of a great seeker he would be a bit faster on catching on to things.”

“Wait, is it me?” Draco was completely surprised at this revelation. It had never crossed his mind that you would actually like him. 

“Yes it is.” A blush began to spread across your cheeks leaving a rosy tint to paint your cheeks. “Wish the situation was more ideal for you to find out I like you.”

“I quite like it honestly. You can nurse me back to health you know?” Draco grabbed his injured hand and winced in ‘pain’ as he looked at you with a smile. “Maybe fluff my pillow or hold my hand. You know, to help me balance since I can’t use my arm.”

“You don’t need your arm for balance Draco.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him, a small pout forming on his lips. You shook your head at him. 

“Well, you don’t know that and I don’t want to find out if it’s true or not.” 

“You expect me to help feed you too?” You ask him playfully as a laugh escapes from you. He loved to hear you laugh. It was pure bliss to him. 

“Now that you mention it, I think I’m going to need help with that.” He pulled gently on your wrist to get you to sit next to him on the bed. 

“Oh really?” You reached into the pocket of your robe to grab the forgotten chocolate frog in it. You opened the box and brought the chocolate to his mouth. He gladly took a bite out of it, leaving only a small piece. You placed the rest in your mouth.

“Hey wasn’t that mine?” Draco said while laughing, not actually being mad at you.

“Technically yes, but I wanted some too. So I decided we could share it.”

“Well that means we should get more. We should also have sweets for our date.”

“Date?”

“I’m obviously taking you on a date. I mean if you want to go out with me.” You could sense a hint of nervousness. 

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you. You better make it good or else there always is Potter.”

He didn’t find your comment amusing as he poked your side with his good arm. “Okay okay I was only joking. I would never get caught dating Potter. You should know I ever do, I have been spelled.”

“Good.” He pulled you into him by your waist, wrapping his good arm around you for a hug. You felt yourself relax in his embrace.

It felt just right.

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[neckromantics]

Trips in the Regalia:

Chocobro Headcanons—

could be seen as platonic or not! whatever you want. :) SFW and gender neutral.

Went on a road trip recently so these just kinda popped into my head. Also I missed you guys. :)

Okay, so Noct or Ignis are in charge of driving, obviously. Poor Prompto is pretty much banned from ever touching the wheel unsupervised bc the one time they let him behind the wheel it ended in disaster.

You’re totally allowed to drive but you outright refuse to do so now-a-days because someone distracted you by standing up in his seat and you almost drove off into a ravine out of fright.

Ignis has been known to let one of you sit on his lap and steer just for fun. Sure it looks ridiculous, but he can not handle the puppy dog eyes that are sent his way whenever he's asked.

There’s a cooler in the back by your feet that’s stocked full of Ebony and tiny little seltzer waters just in case Ignis gets cranky or someone starts to feel a little car sick.

The glove box might as well be considered a medicine cabinet with the amount of curatives that's stuffed inside.

Long road trips ALWAYS become even longer road trips because no one in the car knows how to synchronize their pee breaks. You keep telling them to just go all at once but they never listen. Someone always insists they don’t have to go and then changes their mind five minutes after you’ve left the rest area.

Parking at the side of the road where said someone has to do the walk of shame to nearby shrubbery while everyone else stays in the car and talks shit about them.

The Regalia always smells strongly of whatever essential oil that’s been dripped into the USB powered diffuser Iris gifted to you guys. It's a godsend, especially after those particularly long hunts where you all could use a shower. If it weren't for her it'd always reek of sweat and desperation in there.

It doesn’t happen very often, but there have been a couple of times that you’ve miscalculated the distance to the next fuel station and had to push the car the rest of the way after running out of fuel a few miles away.

Now Ignis has to reassure you constantly that there's enough gas in the tank, but you still peer over his shoulder to check the fuel gage and start to nervous sweat whenever it drops below half full.

Prom’s always trying to initiate a game of I Spy and you’re the only one that will entertain it lol.

No one in the car is allowed to have the aux due to past music-based arguments. You all have a joint playlist on a music app that you take turns adding songs to, and it gets played on shuffle. The genre is almost never the same back to back, which makes things interesting and also ridiculous.

Naturally Prompto takes so many photos he has to bring what is essentially a briefcase of backup storage. Will crawl into the back seat when he’s bored to sit half on your and Noct’s lap to show you some of them instead of just handing the camera over like a normal person.

Whoever gets to be in the passenger seat has the privilege of feeding Ignis while he’s driving. Apparently, Iggy burns a crazy amount of energy at the wheel because he’s ALWAYS hungry up there. He could feed himself just fine, but where’s the fun in that?

Honestly everyone’s just always feeding each other for some reason.

At some point when Noct’s driving you sneak a carrot stick into his mouth instead of a potato chip and he tries to kill you. Like, I’m not kidding he slams on the breaks and throws himself across the car at you like a rabid animal. It’s not threatening at all because he’s mostly flailing around, but it does take all three of the remaining guys to pry him away from you. You are cackling the entire time.

Gladio spends most trips reading (and then re-reading) the book he brought with him. Will let you lean in close to read it if you ask nicely. Always waits for you to give him the go ahead to turn the page.

You, Noct, and Prompto play rock paper scissors to see who gets shotgun and somehow Prompto wins nine times out of ten.

Ignis is an excellent driver but for some strange reason he loves to do U-turns in the WORST places possible. Will miss an exit and say whatever posh equivalent there is to “My Bad.” and just do a complete one eighty like your lives mean nothing to him. Also? He will slam the breaks on if any of you start misbehaving and it’s hilarious.

Gladio likes to mess with people in passing cars.

He’ll do this blank, dead-eyed stare at them at red lights until they make eye contact with him.

If the top of the Regalia is up for some reason, he’ll roll his window down and motion for them to do the same only to immediately roll his window back up as soon as they roll theirs down.

There's a compartment in between the two front seats that has five sets of matching novelty sunglasses that Noct bought at the shop in Hammerhead. It also has some lip balm, sunscreen, and bandages for when someone inevitably scrapes their knee or something.

There's not a lot of room in the car with all of you inside, so naturally you're forced to sleep in the weirdest of positions. Half on one boy, half on another. An arm or leg hanging out the side of the car. Nearly upside down in the seat.

It’s safe to say the Regalia is like your tiny home away from home by now. Sometimes it’s easier for you to just to pull a blanket into the car and sleep rather than attempt to sleep in some strange, fancy hotel room. The bros will wake up wondering where you are, only to find you curled up like a baby in the back seat.

[spice-chan]

Legally Incapsulated

yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader

In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling. 

warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity. 

also hi, i came back from the undead with an update. 

.........

Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.

What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning. 

A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it. 

His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog. 

With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him. 

You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool. 

“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna be ok.” 

He sure hopes he will be now. 

“What’s your name?” 

Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze. 

You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV. 

“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice. 

And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you. 

So pretty. 

Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul. 

But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured. 

“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further. 

“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.” 

His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express. 

You’re a darling. 

You’re someone’s darling.

By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…

But not for long. 

……………...

Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere. 

Classification: Protective

Darling: Unregistered 

In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy. 

Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split. 

Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room. 

“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind. 

You. 

Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now? 

No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious. 

He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief. 

When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from. 

They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes. 

Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction. 

And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed. 

And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself. 

…………..

Y/N L/N: Darling

Under yandere of classification: Obsessive

Yandere name: Nagisa Mura

Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him. 

Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could. 

After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you. 

A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens. 

He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you. 

He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name. 

No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point. 

And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin. 

………………

Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded. 

“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing. 

“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.” 

He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues. 

“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister. 

You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower. 

“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.” 

Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time. 

Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace. 

“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face. 

“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?” 

But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable. 

“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes. 

He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food. 

The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you. 

The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick. 

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless. 

He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early. 

But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright… 

You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time. 

Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you. 

You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…

…….

Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with. 

Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours. 

Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart. 

Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go? 

But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok. 

The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost. 

His cheeks were flaming hot. 

Whatever, he better start preparing your room. 

…….

It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.

Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet. 

Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear. 

Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it… 

He wishes you were here to see it… 

An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here. 

He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches

…….. 

A day later

You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime. 

A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone. 

He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa. 

He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet. 

He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss. 

Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you. 

He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…

“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.” 

He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening. 

“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do. 

“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again. 

“Well you thought wrong. Scum” 

Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize. 

Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago. 

Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare. 

“(Y/n)...how does he know you?” 

“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he? 

The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile. 

“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong. 

And your gut was right. 

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear. 

However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you. 

The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind. 

“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal? 

“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.” 

You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years. 

The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare. 

Now it was just him and you. 

“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you. 

You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok? 

You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals. 

Of course you weren’t ok. 

You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob. 

Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle. 

You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly. 

Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth. 

“Stop crying.” 

Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it? 

Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate? 

You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful? 

At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa. 

You blushed. 

……

 You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed. 

The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly. 

You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place. 

Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look. 

His hand felt warm on your back. 

“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.” 

Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace. 

“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be. 

The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud. 

“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out. 

You hummed to him in response. 

“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.” 

“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest. 

“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“ 

“Sleep now, questions later.” 

The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form. 

“Um-?” 

“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?

But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep. 

…..

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused. 

“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.” 

Oh, right, you were living with him now. 

“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed. 

“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.” 

He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom. 

…….

In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far? 

If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though. 

You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took. 

You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it. 

Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before. 

The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you. 

The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied. 

Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it. 

You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush. 

“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause. 

“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights. 

Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much. 

“I’m a pro hero.” 

Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense. 

“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you. 

“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?” 

Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it. 

“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you. 

You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you. 

“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Continuation of Request #14?

Request #23

Warning: mentions of past rape, beliefs of oneself being unlovable/unwanted.

Honestly, at first, I wasn't sure where to go with this, but I ultimately gave it a wholesome(?) ending that I'm satisfied with. (Of course, If y'all want another continuation, I'm down to write more in the future.)

Enjoy!

Part 1

~~~~

Welp...

It was morning now.

...

A sigh left Villain's lips as they lay freshly awake in their bed, staring at the ceiling. They had to go and deal with Hero, even though they really didn't want to. They were still rather puzzled about what had happened yesterday. Why the hell...? Did Hero actually enjoy...?

Shaking their head to clear their thoughts, the villain lifted themself with a slight groan and dragged themself out of bed. Now, first things first, they were in dire need of a shower. Their nemesis' unexpected late-night visit had drained what little energy they had at the time, so they had just collapsed into bed as they were, all sweaty and gross.

Entering the bathroom and turning on the water, Villain freed themself of their clothing and hopped right in. As they rubbed shampoo into their greasy hair, they pondered how they should deal with this situation. On the one hand, they could probably use this to their advantage. They could make an arrangement of sorts. Hero gets what they want as long as they follow Villain's orders.

Lightly chuckling, they imagined the looks on their nemesis' teammates' faces as they realized the hero had betrayed them. And only to fulfill some fucked up fantasy of theirs, too.

But on the other hand, this was super weird, and the villain probably shouldn't indulge Hero. This could get out of hand very fast. After all, the hero had already snuck back into Villain's base; who knows what they might do next to get what they're after.

With another sigh, they turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and went to get dressed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hero sat in the corner of their cell. Their arms had gotten tied behind their back, and the familiar power-suppressing collar was back on their neck. They weren't sure why they had come back. I mean, they knew why they came back, but they also... didn't.

It was such a stupid idea. Of course, Villain would freak out! Why the hell did the hero think they would react any other way?! What was wrong with them? Why did- Why did Hero enjoy being used like that...?

Were they into all that shit, or were they just... really that desperate for contact?

...

Hero couldn't deny that they did, in fact, enjoy being at the villain's mercy, but... physical contact was still their main desire. Even during their fights, they often let themself get pinned down, just so that they could be close to someone, even if only for a short moment. And Villain... Villain just happened to be the one person who willingly got closer to them...

...

Maybe they were just sick in the head... People probably avoided them for a reason... Villain didn't care about them; they were enemies after all. They only got close to the hero because they were fighting. It made sense, didn't it...? It made sense that Hero was unwanted-

The door suddenly creaked open, and light flooded the small room, blinding the hero for a moment. They blinked their eyes a couple of times to adjust, and once they did, their gaze met with the dark form of their nemesis.

With their arms crossed and a stern calculating look on their face, the villain stood before them, looking down at them. Hero fidgeted nervously under their stare and eventually looked away, head hanging low in their shame. The sigh that left Villain only made them curl in on themself more.

"Hero." - the criminal started, mentally preparing for one hell of a ride. "Why did you come back? I mean, you told me why, but- but why?"

Silence was all they received as an answer, and it honestly got on their nerves a bit. Hero fucking breaks back into their base and then doesn't even want to talk? Fine. They would do this a different way then.

Villain's footsteps echoed through the cell as they approached the quiet hero whose face still turned away from them. As they knelt down, they grabbed the other's chin and forced them to turn their head. The villain noticed the way Hero shivered from their touch and had expected them to try and pull away in fright, but instead, they leaned into it, albeit a bit hesitantly.

With how cold it was in the room, the villain could easily feel how hot the captured's face burned. As their eyes met, the hero looked embarrassed and like they seriously didn't want to be here right now. The sight just made Villain's blood boil even more.

"Why so hesitant all of a sudden, Hero? You were so eager earlier." - the villain spat out angrily, their nemesis' indecisiveness irritating them. Just what the hell did they want?

Hero tried to stutter out an answer. They wanted to explain themself, they really did! But all they managed to say was a quiet "I-I'm sorry..." as tears slowly gathered in their eyes.

"You're sorry?" - Villain pressed, demanding a better answer.

Tensing up as their stomach twisted in their stress, they tried to explain again, voice meek as they admitted, "I- I was just... lonely..."

Their captor was quiet for a moment, studying their face. Trying to figure the other out, they eventually asked, "You let me rape you because you were lonely?"

"Um... Well... when you... put it that way... I... um..." - the hero mumbled, their gaze darting all over Villain's face, avoiding their eyes, too afraid to look into them.

The villain was silent again, slowly catching onto what Hero's deal was. The way the other's eyes were moving all around was annoying, so they decided to test something. Using their free hand, Villain softly cradled the hero's face, making them freeze, their gaze locked on the new point of contact. The criminal's touch slowly glided to the back of Hero's head, making them shudder as their hand tangled itself in the captured's hair.

The hero's eyes looked off to the side, trying to ignore the new feeling, but Villain brought them back to attention as they suddenly gripped Hero's messy locks and roughly pulled, getting a yelp out of them. They shivered as the villain forced their faces closer and ordered, "Look me in the eyes, or I'm leaving."

With a small whine, Hero's eyes immediately snapped to Villain's own.

"Bingo." - the criminal thought as they loosened their grip on the other's hair and instead tenderly began to massage their scalp.

As another whimper crawled out of the hero's throat, they pleaded meekly, "S-Stop... Y-You- You d-don't-"

"You're touch starved." - Villain said, matter-of-factly, anger disappearing as their expression turned more neutral as Hero's tears started to flow down their face. "You let me hurt you because it meant I would touch you."

"I- I- I'm-" - the hero tried to deny their nemesis' words but ultimately failed as they broke down into sobs, still looking into the other's eyes, not wanting them to pull away.

The villain paused in their petting and instead cradled Hero's face with both their hands, the hero inhaling shakily at the feeling. As they hiccuped and sniffled, Villain continued their conversation.

"I admit, seeing you under me is fun, but you seriously need some help." - the criminal watched as Hero only cried more, still desperately keeping eye contact. They really needed help. I mean, to just let themself get raped? They could've just told Villain what they wanted, and they would've let them go!

And yeah, sure, the villain wasn't the best for doing that to them in the first place either, but they only did it because it was Hero. Raping some random person is of no interest to Villain, but the hero? They knew what they were signing up for when they picked this job, so the villain didn't mind being ruthless to them.

But still... this was... honestly just sad. Did Hero genuinely have no one who cared about them? Villain supposed they had fans, but that wasn't really the same thing. Someone liking them as a hero is a lot different than someone loving them as a person.

...

Did... Villain like them?

...

They didn't exactly hate them, but were they interested in the other like that?

...

Well, they did tell their henchmen to put Hero in that... revealing outfit...

It was mostly just to humiliate the hero, but...

...

Shit.

...

With a small sigh, they made their decision and continued talking from earlier. "And I'm gonna be the one to get you that help, 'cause God knows you won't get it yourself."

"W-Wha...?" - Hero's confusion made them pause their crying. What- What did Villain...

"W-What do y-you mean?"

"You're staying with me."

Hero's chest fluttered at that. Villain... wasn't going to push them away?

"R-Really...?" - the hero asked uncertainly, doubt still gripping at their heart.

With a smile that melted their worries away, the villain answered, "Yes, really. We'll get some oxytocin going in that brain of yours." They gave Hero's forehead a gentle boop for emphasis, and the hero found it oddly comforting.

"Also, we're getting you a therapist." - Villain added, more seriously this time. "And... you know what? Fuck it. I'm getting myself a therapist too. Got some shit of my own to deal with..."

In a slightly better mood, Hero playfully asked, "B-By 'get' do you mean you'll literally g-go and grab some therapists?"

The villain snorted in reply, and as they pulled the hero to their feet, they said, "For you? I'd kidnap a therapist any day, darling~."

The blush on Hero's face only worsened at the nickname, but they still found themself smiling, a bit giddy. As Villain undid their restraints, they rubbed at their wrists and neck, shyly looking to the other. "S-So, what now?"

"Now, we're going to go and have breakfast." - the villain answered, offering the hero their arm, which they flusteredly took as their stomach grumbled and as Villain grinned at them endearingly.

As the two of them walked, they talked about how exactly to proceed from here. Neither of them was of a very... healthy mindset, and such, this relationship probably wasn't the healthiest one out there. But... that was fine. They would get there someday.

If no one else would help them, then they would help each other.

[fandom-puff]

Guard

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Can I get literally anything with Sandor Clegane? Maybe reader is a highborn child of a lord, and the Hound is hired as their bodyguard. And reader is very flustered around Sandor and can’t help but try to seduce them nervously? And Sandor is secretly digging it but tries to remain stoic and scary. Did that make any sense? I hope that was coherent’

Note: I... got a bit carried away here lol, sorry it took a while to write. also the reader in this is Robert Baratheon’s eldest daughter :)

Warnings: drunk shenanigans, references to sex

Gif creds to owner

“Oh father, honestly. What need have I for a guard?” You sighed, setting your book aside as Robert Baratheon sat across from you. “I can barely leave my chambers without a swarm of mother’s little birds to watch my every move,”

“What good are your ladies maids against would be assassins, Hm?” Robert said gently, brushing your dark hair away from your face. “All they can do is tell your mother you’ve had your throat slit,” you didn’t grimace at his bluntness.

“Surely Joffrey would be the prime target?” You insisted. “He’s heir to the throne seeing as he’s the eldest son. And he’s an ass as well,”

Robert laughed, knowing of your disdain for your younger brother. “I know, my girl, I know. Still, I want you protected, especially when we set off for the north. It took a while to convince your mother but... well, she can’t deny her own bannermen will be the best to serve the job,”

“Lannister bannermen?” You asked, taking your father’s arm as he began to walk you to dinner.

“Aye. Don’t worry, I won’t let the Mountain anywhere near you,” he said, patting your hand gently. “But his brother, Sandor, is to be your guard,”

***

The journey north was... arduous, to put it diplomatically. Your mother was overbearing, Joffrey grew bored, Myrcella was travel-sick from the bumpy road and Tommen was dearly missing Ser Pounce.

When the parade of servants and guards and carriages and luggage stopped for dinner before sun down, you sighed, happy to stretch your legs and get away from the claustrophobic Queen’s litter.

After dinner, you followed your father and uncles to their own carriage, insisting you couldn’t bare another moment of your siblings bickering and your mother trying to get you to sew. Your father allowed it and you smiled as he helped you into the carriage, sitting next to him and across from your uncles. Tyrion smiled at you, asking about the book you were reading. You soon found yourself relaxing, under no pressure from Cersei, being treated as an intellectual equal. You even drank some strong wine (under Robert’s supervision of course) and soon nodded off to sleep against your father’s shoulder the way you used to when you were a girl...

“YN, wake up,” you jolted awake, blinking away your sleepiness.

“Are we at Winterfell?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. Robert smiled fondly.

“Almost, my dear. Your mother is going spare, says you’re to go to her litter right this instant and put your best gown on,” he grinned, nudging you as you rolled your eyes. “Clegane will escort you, he’s outside,” you sighed and nodded, slipping out of the carriage, almost colliding head on with the Hound.

“Princess,” he said, looking down at you and bowing slightly. “I’m to take to you your mother,”

You smiled sweetly up and him, nodding. “Thank you, Ser Clegane,”

“I’m no Ser,” he said firmly.

“Then what should I call you?” You asked, looking up at him expectantly.

“Well... your brother used to just call me Hound, or Dog, princess,” he said, frowning.

You stared up at him, locking eyes with him, taking in his scarred face and stoic expression. “I am not an ignorant arse like my brother. I’m sure your first name shall suffice, Sandor,” you said firmly and he nodded, helping you navigate the uneven ground to your mother’s carriage

***

Your stay at Winterfell was enjoyable, yet suffocating at times. You grew used to the cold rather quickly, donning furs the way the Starks did. You got on well with Sansa, let Arya show you how fast she could run, held Rickon on your hip when he raised his arms up, let Bran quiz you on the different creatures Old Nan had told him about, spoke politics with Robb. You even beckoned the bastard, Jon Snow over after Robb told you they were as close as real brothers. You admired how warm Lady Stark was with her children, and how Lord Stark was firm but fair with them, disciplining them when need be.

Of course, wherever you went, you had a shadow. Sandor Clegane followed your every move, standing just close enough so he could see and hear you, but far away enough to not stifle you. It was odd at first, but you soon got used to it, smiling softly when you found him waiting outside of your allocated chamber each morning. You couldn’t help but be curious about him. Many recoiled in fright when they saw his disfigured face, but you couldn’t care less. It intrigued you. He was... handsome. In a rugged, scary, gigantic way. At night you couldn’t help but let your mind wander... thinking about his strong arms and great height and low, rumbling voice... you often woke in a sweat, despite the frigid wind of the North, your entire body alight with desire.

It was wrong, you knew it was. He was your guard. Father would have his head if anything untoward happened, and your mother would surely condemn you to a life as a Septa. But still... there was something about his powerful presence that stoked the fire within you.

***

There was a firm thud at your door. “Princess, I’m here to take you to the feast,” Sandor’s gruff voice sounded.

“A moment, I’m just... is there a ladies’ maid nearby?” You called

“No, Princess. They are down at the feast with your mother and sister... should I fetch one? Or perhaps the Septa or the Maester, if it’s women’s troubles that are ailing you?”

You rolled your eyes and opened the door. “There’s no need for that, Sandor,” you said firmly. “I’m simply having difficulty trying to do up the clasp on my necklace. Would you...?” You opened your door a little wider, inviting him inside. Sandor hesitated for a moment before following you, his armour rattling with every step. He admired your figure as you walked; you had decided to wear the colours of your house for the Feast. A black gown, embroidered with twisting golden antlers. You stood in front of the mirror, holding out the ends of your pendant. Sandor’s hands brushed against yours as he took the ends, and you couldn’t help but shiver, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as you swept your hair aside. Sandor gulped, clasping the fiddly chain against the column of your neck, his knuckles caressing gently.

“There,” he said, clearing his throat as he felt your heated skin. “Come on... before your mother castrates me for making you late,”

You smiled gently, walking slightly ahead of him toward the noisy Hall. As you approached the head table, Ned and Catelyn stood, but you quickly gestured for them to sit. “Please, sit. This is your home,” you said gently, allowing Sandor to pull a chair out for you next to your mother.

“Thank you Clegane,” she said coldly, eyes narrowed. “You may leave us now,”

You turned to him and smiled shyly. “Stay,” you said softly.

“YN,” your mother said warningly.

“Sandor, go and enjoy the feast. Have some food and some wine, I’m sure Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion can spare you some. Go. Make Merry,” you said gently and he nodded, bowing slightly.

“Of course, Princess, your majesty,” he said, before stalking away.

You ignored your mother’s disapproving look and engaged in pleasant conversation with Lady Catelyn, mainly about when you were to be wed, but your mother cut across.

“I believe Robert intended to betroth her to your eldest son, but we must consider Joffrey’s future first. He is after all to be king and needs to have heirs,”

“Of course,” Catelyn smiled. “I’m sure a suitor will come shortly,”

You nodded, although your attention was no longer on the conversation; your eyes had drifted to Sandor. For once he was smiling, looking at ease as your uncles poured him more wine, your father laughing jovially with a woman on his lap. “I’m going to see Uncle Jaime,” you said to your mother, who sighed but let you go.

“Ah, YN,” Tyrion smiled as jaime poured you a goblet of wine. “I see you’ve managed to escape your mother’s side,”

“Don’t,” you said, taking the wine and drinking it quickly, sitting yourself next to Sandor. Robert sent the woman on his lap go, frowning at you.

“Careful now, YN, that wine’s stronger than you’re used to,” he warned, but you reached over to clink your goblet with his. Sandor gulped, seeing the curve of your back as you swayed slightly.

“Oh, nonsense, father. I am your daughter after all... and my uncle is the drunkest man in the seven kingdoms. It’d be rather shameful if I couldn’t manage a cup of wine,” you smiled, sitting back down and knocking back another cup as the men roared with laughter.

Your father was right. A few cups of the strong wine later, you were rather giddy, insisting Jaime dance with you. He humoured you, your father and Tyrion laughing and cheering you on while Sandor smiled bemusedly. “Come now, YN... that’s enough for tonight,” Jaime said, helping you stagger back. “She’s drunk,” he grinned as you giggled, sitting yourself back down. Your fathered grinned, allowing you one more cup before smirking.

“Gods above, Cersei will have my head for getting you drunk...” Robert grinned, although he didn’t really look too worried. “Clegane, take her to her rooms and guard the door. Send for the maester if she’s unwell,” Sandor nodded and bowed, watching as you hugged your father goodnight, before taking your arm and guiding you out of the crowded hall.

As you walked through the courtyard of Winterfell, you shivered in the cold, leaning into Sandor a little more, trying to keep up with his wide strides. He helped you up the stairs to your room, rolling his eyes fondly as you giggled when you stumbled. “Come on, Princess, need to get you to bed in one piece,”

“I’d like you to get me in bed, Sandor,” you grinned, nudging him, fuelled by liquid confidence. He said nothing, opening your bedroom door, helping you inside before turning around. “What’re you doing?” You asked indignantly.

“Turning my back so you can get yourself dressed for bed,” he said lowly, gritting his teeth.

“I can’t undo the laces at the back... my ladies’ maid is still at the feast. Help?” You asked, already clumsily undoing your braids. Sandor sighed softly, cursing under his breath as he turned around. You had your back to him, holding your hair out of the way so he could unlace your gown. When you felt his strong hands against your back, caressing with the gentlest touch, you let out a little sigh, leaning back into his touch. Your gown pooled onto the floor, leaving you in your corset and chemise. His breath hitched, unlacing your corset. You smiled, turning around and he quickly averted his eyes- he could see your nipples through the fabric, thanks to the cold.

“C’mon, princess,” he said, clearing his throat, thankful his armour covered his cock; his trousers were feeling uncomfortably tight. “Into bed with you,” you nodded obediently, letting him help you up into the high bed. He pulled the blanket over you, and as he was straightening, you reached up to kiss him. He froze for a moment, before kissing you back gently, stroking your hair. His whole hand almost covered your head as he cupped the back of it gently. Slowly, he pulled away, much to your dismay. “Sleep, princess,” he said softly, pushing you down. You reached up, pouting.

“Stay?” You slurred, eyes already drooping as the alcohol caught up to you.

“I’ll be standing just outside the door, YN,” he said, blowing out the candles. “Can’t keep you safe if I’m in here, can I?”

***

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy

[pagesoflauren]

Depicting Stuttering in Writing: A Crash Course

About the original author of this post

Hi! I’m Lauren; I have a BA in Communicative Disorders (I graduated in 2018 from an ASHA accredited university) and am currently in graduate school to get my MS in Speech, Language, and Hearing Sciences from the same university. When I graduate, I have the intention of becoming a speech-language pathologist/speech teacher.

I acknowledge that I am approaching this topic from an outsider’s standpoint. I did not have any communication, speech, language, or voice difficulties growing up other than stage fright, some sickness here and there, and occasional stuttering within “typical” parameters. I do not claim to speak from personal experience; rather I speak from someone who has spent four years studying course material on these matters.

I’m also not trying to tell anyone how to write anything. These are all suggestions.

Adding information, corrections, and respectful critiques are more than welcome!

Now, onto the information...

What is Stuttering?

Stuttering--or a disfluency (pl. disfluencies) if you wanna get technical--is “any interruption of speech.” This can manifest in many different ways, but the most common are sound repetitions, sound prolongations, hesitations, and interjections. Let’s talk about these in-depth!

Sound repetition: A sound repetition is pretty self-explanatory. It’s when a person says one particular sound of a word over again, typically at the very beginning of a word, or at the beginning of a syllable.

Examples:

“bubble” becomes “b-b-bubble”

“Cactus” becomes “cact-t-tus”

---

Sound prolongations: Another self-explanatory form of stuttering. This occurs when a person gets caught on one sound of a word, again, typically at the very beginning of a word or at the beginning of a syllable.

Examples:

“Sing” becomes “ssssing”

“Shuffle” becomes “shuffffle”

---

Hesitations: This occurs when a speaker appears to be ready to speak, but nothing comes out. There can be a lot of tension in their mouth, face, chest, or even their whole body. Hesitation can happen at any point of speaking; a person can be trying to take their turn in a conversation and nothing can come out, or a person can be in the middle of speaking and they stop before a certain word, or they can stop in the middle of a word.

---

Interjections: This is a common form of stuttering. I’m willing to bet you’ve done this at least once today. This is when you say anything like “um, uh, oh, ah, erm, err”--I could go on and on.

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

Now that we’ve talked about that, let’s talk about some common mistakes.

Something that I’ve seen often (and has actually spurred my urge to create this post) is the way sounds are depicted when stuttering.

Now, in phonetics, there are two ways letters can depict sounds. These are called monophthongs (when one letter depicts one sound, like “b”) and diphthongs (when two letters depict one sound, like “th”, “sh,”, “ch”, and “ng”).

When a character stutters on a monophthong, it looks like this: “f-f-fine.” I’ve always seen these appear fairly accurately.

However, when a character stutters on a diphthong, I’ve seen this: “t-t-thanks.”

This is inaccurate because the “th” letters in “thanks” make one sound. So, a more accurate depiction would be “th-th-thanks.”

Let’s try more:

“Chip” should be “ch-ch-chip.”

“Shirt” should be “sh-sh-shirt.”

---

Now, a trick question: sometimes in English, a pair of letters that looks like a diphthong is actually a monophthong, so how do you show a stutter in that?

I’ll use the prime example I see often, which is the name Chris (for all you Evans fans out there who write/read RPF of him).

Because the first two letters of Chris’ name make the /k/ sound like in the words “kite” or “cake”, it’s okay to do “C-Chris.”

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

Let’s briefly talk about something else: which sounds can be repeated and which can be prolongated.

Repetitions occur for most sounds in the English language. However, I’ve usually seen them in sounds called “stops”. These are sounds where you build up air pressure in your mouth and release it suddenly to create a sound.

These include /b, p, t, d, ch, k/ and /g/.

---

Prolongations occur for sounds that can be hummed and extended for a long period of time. These are sounds that are produced by a continuous flow of air moving through the mouth.

These include /f, v, sh, j, m, n, s/ and /z/.

However, these sounds can also be repeated. It all depends on how a character stutters.

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So, there you have it! A bit of a crash course on stuttering and how to depict it in writing. There is a lot more information that can be discussed, but this post is already super long so I’ll just end it here.

If you have any questions or feedback, I’m so happy to hear it. But please, don’t be unnecessarily rude. I created this to share the knowledge I have, not to act as if I know everything there is to know about stuttering.

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 60

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Omg, the first part of the finale is here, can you believe it? Because I definitely can't. This ride is almost over and I'm not entirely okay with this 🥺

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: incredibly cringe original lyrics (which there are more of and will be published as the full lyric set after the fic has ended because I clearly hate myself)

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Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

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This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch @ammathogwarts @whatwouldvalerydo

My gift is my song,

And this one's for you

~ Elton John - Your Song ~

The sun had set over Glastonbury and a massive crowd had gathered in front of the Pyramid Stage. The excited murmur of thousands of people was reaching up to where the members of Equinox were already assembled and waiting in the wings. The air was buzzing with anticipation and Lizzie’s heart was beating faster with every passing minute.

The stage was set for the last show of their tour - the last show Lizzie would ever play with Equinox.

The thought was still surreal to her. No matter how often she told herself, the words refused to make proper sense inside her head. She felt like being inside a bad dream she couldn’t wake up from, no matter how hard she was trying.

After the initial shock of Lizzie’s announcement had passed, all of her friends had tried to convince her to change her mind. The only one to stay silent had been Orion; he could guess her reasons, of course, but just like herself, he seemed uncertain on how to act. Lizzie was glad for it, in any case; every hug, every plea for her to stay broke her heart a little more and if Orion had spoken up maybe she wouldn't have been able to stick to her resolve.

The hours between the soundcheck and the evening had gone by in a blur. And now that their last warm-up together was over, their last check up with the tech crew was done and Orion had given them his final motivational speech, there was nothing left but to wait.

Lizzie felt sick to her stomach with stage fright and she was nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Feeling dizzy, she took a deep breath to try and get her heartrate under control and turned to one of the equipment boxes piling up on one another at the stage entrance. To focus her thoughts on something else than the slowly increasing volume of the crowd, she took her drumsticks out of her back pocket and let them dance over the rough surface in a quick but simple rhythm. She tried concentrating on the pattern and let her body take over. She needed her head and heart in the moment to perform, but as hard as she tried, Lizzie had to fight the tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

“The moment we have all been waiting for is almost here,” she heard Orion’s voice behind her, “and never have I looked forward to it less.” He joined her by stage entrance and laid his hand on her shoulder; they might as well stop pretending now.

“This is it then?” he asked quietly. “You’re really leaving?”

Lizzie nodded and pressed her lips together. “There’s no other way. One thing has to break, either Equinox or me,” she took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, “and I don’t want it to be me.”

“I would’ve never let that happen.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lizzie replied sadly. “Charlie's had it right all along. Either I stay and be miserable with the band and without you, or I’ll take matters into my own hands again. It was about time.” The corners of her mouth twitched, but it was a weak smile. “You said it yourself: Change is what me make of it. We need to change, and so does Equinox.”

Orion bowed his head and didn’t answer her. He was turning the pendant of his necklace between his fingers but didn’t seem to notice .

“David and I have been thinking of bringing our old band back, actually, give you a run for your money,” Lizzie continued, but her laugh sounded hollow. She was rambling and she knew it, but she couldn’t stop, somehow. “What we’ve been doing all these years has been amazing, but a new challenge and a fresh start may be just what I need. See where that takes me. Maybe it’s what I should have been doing all along.”

The pained expression on Orion’s features spoke volumes; he was feeling just as helpless as Lizzie was. She was still talking when he pulled her into his arms and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You can’t just leave,” he whispered and Lizzie fell quiet. “I can’t do this without you. None of us can. You’re the heart of this band.”

“No, I’m not,” she said softly. “The heart of this band is you. It’s always been you.”

“Equinox is all of us.”

“Not anymore,” Lizzie whispered and gently laid her hand on his cheek. “Now Equinox is you. And we, we can just be us.”

And just like that, calm descended on her and Lizzie felt the tension leaving her body. This was where their paths had led and now, at the end of the road, she had made her peace with it. The lights on stage went out, and the crowd erupted in screams as the first notes of their intro were starting to play. She stepped away from Orion, her eyes fixed on her drum kit.

“Please, Lizzie. You don’t have to do this,” Orion tried one last time. “Not for me.”

“Yes, I do. And this isn’t for you.”

Feeling an almost forgotten fire ignite inside her, she took a deep breath and braced her shoulders.

“This is for me.”

And with her head held high and a smile on her face, Lizzie stepped out into the light.

***

The spotlights were burning down on Orion as the last chord of the song faded. He dipped his head back to catch his breath and let the cheers of the crowds carry him. The heaving mass of people dancing to their music was impressive, but with his guitar in his hand and the music encompassing him from all sides, their noise faded into the background until Orion felt like walking through a haze. It was a state between a surreal dream and being wide awake, and it was right where he belonged.

They were already halfway through their setlist and after weeks of being out of tune with his friends Orion felt like they were finally one again. Their music was effortless and reverberating inside his core with an intensity that sent shivers up and down his spine. The people he loved like his family maybe were as different as day and night, but from the moment they stepped onto the stage, everything dividing them was left behind.

But even though Orion was enjoying himself for the first time in weeks, he found it hard to not let his focus stray. He had to fight the urge to turn around and look at Lizzie, take her in, the last precious moments before the end of an era. Every song they were ticking off their setlist was a last time for her and the thought made Orion’s heart feel so heavy as if it might crash through the floor of the stage and shatter to pieces on the ground.

He had thought about turning his way to a new destiny so many times. There was temptation in the idea of leaving everything behind and starting on an unbeaten path with an unburdened mind and heart, but he’d never had the strength to cut the ropes tying him down. Equinox was more than a band for him - it was his family.

But in taking the first step into the unknown, Lizzie had proven just how strong she was. Orion understood why she had chosen this fate for herself but he felt torn between his conflicting emotions. It was an end and a beginning - two sides of the same, bittersweet coin - and yet he wished he could have spared her the pain that had taken them to the crossroad they were standing at.

David and Skye set down their instruments and Lizzie and Merula left theirs behind to walk off stage while Orion remained where he was. It was time for him to give his friends a well-deserved respite from their show by entertaining the crowd on his own for a short while.

He never really knew what he would be playing beforehand. It usually began as something familiar, one famous guitar solo or another which Orion would then put his own spin to. Whatever it was his fans wanted to hear - AC/DC, Guns ‘n’ Roses, Lynyrd Skynyrd or Queen - he played it for them. He’d do everything for them, give every last bit of himself just to make them happy.

And wasn’t that exactly what he’d done? He’d given them everything, every last bit of his heart and of his soul and then some more. He felt hollow, nothing but a vessel to carry his music into the world. He had reached a point where there was nothing he had left to give. There was nothing that belonged to him anymore, not truly. But in return, the people down there had given him everything he hadn’t even dared to dream of when he had been nothing but a little boy, all alone in the world.

Orion had everything he’d ever wanted, and nothing all at the same time.

The lights went out, all but the single spotlight illuminating the centre of the stage. Orion stepped into the blazing light and looked out over the sea of faces, all of them waiting for his next stroke of genius. They were here because of him and yet, all of a sudden, Orion had never felt so alone before.

The crowd was restless, he could tell. The spotlight was searing his skin but he was frozen on the spot, barely enough strength left in his arms to set his fingers onto the strings. He let a chord ring out, testing it, tasting it, listening to the screams erupting from the crowds below. Orion knew what he wanted to play, knew where to set his fingers, how to make his guitar sing, but his hands wouldn’t follow the orders from his mind.

Slowly Orion turned his head and looked to the entrance of the stage. He could barely see his friends for the blinding light shining down on him, but he knew they were there.

He knew she was there.

Lizzie was standing right at the edge between the stage and the darkness of the wings beyond, and even through light and shadow all Orion could see - all he wanted to see - was the encouraging smile on her face and the barely perceptible nod of her head. Even now, even though she was the one leaving behind what they had built, she was there to help him spread his wings when he felt like he was falling.

Holding her eyes for a moment longer, Orion turned away from the small circle illuminated by the spotlight. The confused whispers of the crowd were growing so loud it sounded like the area in front of the Pyramid Stage was humming in anticipation, but Orion didn’t care. He knew that Murphy would be frantically trying to adjust to whatever Orion was about to do, but he didn’t care for that either.

There was one thing no one had taken from him yet, Orion thought as he exchanged his electric guitar for his acoustic one. One thing still belonging to him and him alone, but he didn’t want it to be just his anymore. He wanted it to be hers. In a way, it had always been.

The one thing no one would ever be able to take from him again.

Applause branded up when he stepped in front of his microphone again, but died down quickly when Orion raised his hand.

“Decisions unforeseen are the ones we should always heed, because they are the ones made with the heart,” he said into the microphone, his voice carrying out over the field extending beyond the stage. “So tonight, my friends, let us celebrate the unexpected.”

He set his fingers to the strings and plucked them gently, suddenly filled with so much energy that he felt the vibrations of the strings carry through his fingertips and spread inside his body. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, the agitation left his mind and all that remained was clarity.

“The next song is for someone special.”

As he began to play, the first notes felt raw and unfamiliar; they always did, no matter how often he’d heard them inside his head and inside his heart. The music was coursing through Orion’s veins like his blood did, without any effort or the power to stop. He was playing without thinking, embracing his emotions and pouring them out for everyone to see, and feel, and cry for their beauty and their vastness. And despite the heat on stage he shivered as he began to sing.

“You were the sun, warming my day, I was the star guiding your way, On a moonlit horizon We passed through like ships.”

A hushed silence had fallen over the crowd, and Orion began to lose himself in the melody, his mind so empty and yet so full. He forgot the thousands upon thousands of eyes on him; he was his voice and he was his music, and his heart was beating in the same rhythm as the drums that should be part of this song.

“When I felt most alone, Your voice called me home.”

But even though the drums were silent, Orion felt their presence as if Lizzie was there to lend him her rhythm, like she had done the first time he had played this song an eternity ago. The song that had taken everything out of him, his song, her song, the song Orion never would have thought would ever be played again.

“Hold onto my dreams in the palm of your hand, You guard them for me, ‘Cause sometimes I can’t.”

Even after everything Orion had held close to his heart had fallen to pieces her song hadn’t left him alone, had haunted him as relentlessly as his feelings had done.

“The beat of your soul, The same rhythm as mine, My dreamcatcher girl, My silver line.”

He hadn’t been able to escape the melody, and he hadn’t been able to escape her. Without either of them noticing, she had slipped past his defences and into his heart, into his very soul. When she laughed it was like warm rays of sunshine touching Orion’s face, and when they were fighting dark storm clouds were chasing thunder and lightning over an ink black sky.

“A heart like a flame, a light in the dark, A spirit like water, drowning my heart, No smoke without fire, You set me ablaze.”

And when the storm had broken loose, Orion had felt himself spiralling like a leaf tossed around by the merciless wind, unable to hold onto anything until even his music had abandoned him.

“We’re burning too brightly, We get lost in time. And still you’re my sun, My reason, my rhyme.”

Orion knew Lizzie didn’t remember him singing fragments of this song to her after she’d drowned her sorrows with Artemis. He had never told her that he’d finished the song after that night. Maybe he should have told her.

“Keep holding my dreams in the palm of your hand, You guard them for me, When you know I can’t.”

And he would tell her. He would tell her everything and more.

“You took my dreams with you When you went away.”

He loved her, loved her so incredibly much. So much more than he’d ever thought was even possible; so much that it scared him.

“I miss you, I need you.”

He needed her to see. He needed her to understand.

“My dreamcatcher girl.” He needed her. “Light of my day.”

Orion held his breath as the last notes rang through the silence that had fallen over the Pyramid stage. Many of the people in the crowd had taken their phones out and held the lit up screens into the air, like a sea of glowing stars illuminating the night.

When the music had faded, the first hushed whispers began to sound through the stillness. The murmur swelled, like the first drops of water trickling down a dam at the point of breaking and when it finally did, a wave of screams and cheers washed over Orion, who bowed his head in thanks. But this time he didn’t care what their fans were thinking; the only set of eyes he was looking for, the only opinion that mattered wasn’t to be found down in the crowd.

When Orion turned to look at Lizzie, her hand was covering her face and her shoulders were shaking. Skye had put an arm around her and was awkwardly patting her back. Orion felt his own tears burning at the back of his eyes and forced himself to look away, concentrating on their celebrating fans to not get overwhelmed by his emotions.

When the others joined him again, Lizzie and he locked eyes for a long moment; she had stopped crying, but the look in her eyes told Orion everything he so desperately needed to know.

She knew. She understood.

Orion exhaled, quickly and sharply, as a relieved smile spread on his face. This was no time for tears. Nothing was important but the moment at hand, neither what had been, nor what would be. All that counted was the here and now, and right now, these were the last moments he and Lizzie would share a stage.

And she deserved to have the best last show Orion had in him to play.