#( first one: insomnia and bad memories )

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Loss of a parent, Crying, Premonitions, Anxiety, Bermuda Triangle, Insomnia, Running from the law, Near drowning, Near death experience, Sea monster, Cursing, Death, Mentions and brief description of blood, Magic. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.5k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

You had always had a feeling of otherness surrounding you, of that you were sure. You had a knack for predicting weather changes or which ships would come home when others wouldn’t. You had known when your father stepped foot out the door that fateful morning that you would never see him again.

You had chased after him, begging him to stay, to delay his departure. Your hands had gripped the fabric of his trousers as you sank to your knees before him, tears streaking down your face as you babbled and sobbed for him to not leave your side. Your father had crouched down next to you, a gentle hand on your head as you sniffled pathetically.

“What’s the matter,” he asked gently, thumb stroking away the drops of tears that fell from your eyes.

“Something,” you hiccuped, your bottom lip trembling, “something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Please don’t go, Papa.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” He asked, but something in his voice sounded off. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were in hysterics, after all, and that in and of itself was so unlike you. That inner sense of knowing had always kept you cool and collected, warning you away from danger or towards something joyful. Never had you felt that deep sense of foreboding, though. Like your whole world was about to be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice.

“Everything will be alright, little minnow,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light. “There’s a sort of magic that courses through your blood, always has been. Even if something happens to me, you’ll be just fine. I promise.”

It had taken Bradley pulling you away for your father to leave, and you watched from the docks as the silhouette of his ship disappeared past the horizon, a sense of foreboding clutching at your heart.

And it had been right, of course.

You had tried to hold on to his words, praying that he was right. Hoping beyond all hope that he would come home.

But he hadn’t.

You remembered how the ocean spray dotted your cheeks, much like how it did now. The Hangman dipped with the waves as you stared out over the rails. You weren’t sure why that memory was on your mind now, the ache still as strong within your chest as it was the day it found a home there, but perhaps it was due to the sense of foreboding that now pulled at the back of your neck, warning of something yet to come.

“We’re nearing the triangle, lads,” a crewman murmured, grizzled face glancing around almost conspiratorially. You paused on your way to the galley, ears perking at his words.

“Aye, and what about it?” Snapped his companion, a surly looking fellow with a dark beard.

“Don’t tell me you’ve not heard o’ the tales of the triangle,” the first man scoffed, giving the bearded fellow a rather unimpressed look. A moment passed as the two stared at one another.

“I thought e’ry good sailor knew about the legends of the sea,” he continued with a shake of his head. He clapped his companion on the shoulder, leaning in as if to tell him a secret. Several other crew members stopped what they were doing to listen in as well.

“The Bermuda Triangle,” the man started, his tone taking on a warning tone, “is home to all sorts o’ monsters and fiend. They say God himself cursed this bit o’ sea, sending all sorts o’ devilish creatures to live here where they mightn’t cause any trouble for the res’.”

“You’re full of shite,” guffawed one man, leaning back so far on his perch, he nearly fell to the deck below. The storyteller scowled at him as several others shook their heads almost knowingly.

“You’re laughin’ now,” the storyteller growled, shaking his finger at the man, “but mark my words, lad: several of ye will be doomed to live out this cursed existence at the bottom of the sea before we see land again.”

Several more men let out a loud chorus of laughter as the crowd began to disperse. The sense of foreboding sat heavy as you turned back towards the underbelly of the ship.

In the galley, Bob was already hard at work making that night’s supper. You slid in easily beside him, chopping away at some carrots as he messed with one of the pots.

“Alright, out with it,” he said after a few minutes. You paused, looking at him in confusion as he fixed you with a rather unamused look.

“What?” You asked, sliding the carrots off to the side as you grabbed for some potatoes. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he scowled, waving the wooden spoon at you. “You came down here with this look on your face and haven’t said a word to me since. Now what’s got you in such a mood, hm?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his keen eyes as you contemplated on how to answer. There truly was no reason for you to be feeling this way. Or at least, nothing new that should. Of course, the rapidly approaching deadline had been near the forefront of your mind for a while, but this was different. This sense of impending doom was more urgent, more…immediate.

You couldn’t tell him that, you just couldn’t. You already felt crazy, you didn’t need word to spread of your premonitions. Really, after everything that had already happened, you didn’t need accusations of witchcraft being thrown at you—not when you were so close to the end.

“The men were just talking about sea monsters, is all,” you lied. Bob scoffed, turning back to stir whatever he had bubbling away in the pot.

“Sea monsters,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “The things they come up with.”

“You don’t think they’re telling the truth?” You pressed, an arch to your brow as you slowly went back to cutting up the potatoes.

“I’d believe it more if they actually told the truth once in a while,” he snorted back at you.

“You’re the cook on a cursed ship where all but two of the crew members don’t even need to eat,” you hummed, “and you’re questioning the existence of sea monsters?”

There was a brief pause as Bob mulled over your words.

“Hurry up with the potatoes,” he grumbled, and you did your best to hide your smirk.

The evening passed much like any other, but still a feeling kept nagging at you, and the more time went on, the stronger it became. You laid in your bed that night, the rest of the crew having retreated for some shut eye as well. Only the watchman and the helmsman stayed awake, and though you tried, not even the slow, rhythmic rocking of the Hangman could lure you to sleep. Natasha snored quietly on the other side of the room, and you envied her in that moment. You tossed and turned helplessly as you willed yourself to get at least a few hours of sleep.

You finally gave up as the telltale signs of dawn crept through the window of your cabin, casting a faint, blue glow across the wood. You let out a heavy, tired sigh as you slowly sat up. The air was cool around you, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your back. Natasha shifted on her bed, rolling over as you paused and waited for her to settle once more. After a moment’s hesitation, you slowly slipped out of bed and padded towards your chest, lifting the lid to reveal your meager belongings. You changed quickly, shooting glances at Natasha’s sleeping figure every so often to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. Your boots tapped against the floor as you padded towards the door, careful to keep the old wood from creaking as you slipped out.

Clouds covered the sky, a mist clinging to the air around you as you sucked in a lungful of briny, sea air. You peered behind you, smiling softly at the helmsman, Daniel, as he nodded your way.

Waves crashed against the hull, a familiar sound that brought you some sense of relief, no matter how small it may be. You walked towards the edge of the ship, grabbing on to one of the ropes as you leaned over the railing. The water below churned into white sea foam, the spray flying up to meet your cheek. The murky depths gave no hint as to what may lurk beneath, but the feeling within you pulsed ominously.

“Must be somewhere off the coast of Florida by now.”

You startled, head twisting to take in the sight of Jake just a few feet behind you. The wind whipped around you, twisting through your hair and obscuring your vision for a brief moment before you pushed it back.

“Are we?” you asked, turning back with a squint towards the water, as if it would help confirm what he told you. The wood echoed beneath his boots as he walked towards you, pausing just behind as the waves crashed against the hull.

“I’d expect so,” he replied, squinting his eyes at the horizon, as if the answer lay somewhere just out of sight. “If we aren’t, then we should be soon.”

You hummed, the silence between you stretching from moments to seconds to minutes. Jake cleared his throat, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his gaze trained on you, and a slight shiver ran up your spine.

“What’s wrong?”

You glanced at him, a frown pulling on your lips at his question. His face was serious, lips pressed tightly together, a crease of worry on his brow as he studied you. You shook your head, turning away from him. How could you explain this feeling within you? How could you explain to him this sense of dread and foreboding that curdled in your stomach, urging you to run, to get away. Your lips parted like you wanted to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, you let out a frustrated sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated how to explain.

“I don’t know,” you settled on finally, eyes shifting from the rolling waves to the hard wood underneath your feet. The air around you felt charged, like it did during a thunderstorm. The waves seemed to grow quiet as a heavy feeling dripped through your ribs to clutch at your heart.

Another pulse ripped through you, your breath catching in your throat. Several of the crew members were making their way up to the deck now, laughing and shouting orders at one another. You looked around wildly, your heart hammering in your chest much like it had on the siren’s isle.

“Something’s not right.” Your voice sounded small even to you. Jake watched with worry at his brow as you pushed off of the railing, pushing past a pair of crew members as you searched wildly for what, you weren’t sure. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to hide, to do something.

“Sail ho!”

You looked skyward as the lookout above signaled towards the horizon. Jake cursed under his breath, already taking off in search of Javy. You peered towards the sea. Sure enough, you could just make out the distinct sight of white sails billowing in your direction. You searched for Jake, spying him on the top deck next to Javy, a telescope to his eye as he peered at the sails.

“It’s a hulk,” he spat, lowering the scope and shoving it back towards Javy. “Flying the Union Jack. Ready the sails and make haste! We’re going to outrun those redcoats.”

The crew began running around the ship, readying the sails and tying knots as they went. You moved to help them, stopping short as another pulse shot through you, stilling you instantly.

“Guppy!”

Bradley grabbed you by the arm, shaking you momentarily from your stupor.

“Bradley?” You questioned, unsure of yourself in that moment. He pursed his lips as he gave you a once over, pulling on your arm and leading you across the deck.

“Come on,” he ground out, letting go of your arm momentarily to tie a rope off on the mast. “Don’t just stand around, help!”

You blinked at him, the familiar sense of panic crawling its way under your skin and towards your chest.

“Bradley, I-”

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, a frown on his face as he turned to look at you. Confusion and irritation marred his face, and you swallowed thickly.

Before you could answer, a gust of wind burst across the deck, nearly knocking you over. Bradley grabbed onto you, steadying you on your feet as the ship rocked dangerously in the sudden onslaught of waves.

“What in the hell,” Bradley cursed, watching as various other crew members also stumbled and struggled to stay upright. Droplets started to rain down, soon becoming a downpour as thunder roared above you.

“Where did this storm come from?” He shouted.

“Guppy!”

You turned to see Jake scrambling towards you, shoving a couple of his men to the side in order to get to you quicker. His green eyes flashed with near panic as he slid to a stop in front of you.

“You need to get inside!” He shouted, voice barely audible over the roar of the waves and shouts of the other men. His hand landed on your bicep, turning to tug you towards the cabins. Before he could even take a step, a shadow fell over you, and you turned just in time to see a monstrous wave towering over the masts of the Hangman. Your eyes rounded in horror as shrieks of panic permeated the air.

“Watch out!” A man cried just as the wave began its decent. You sucked in a sharp breath as the water crashed down onto the decks with a deafening roar. You had no time to grab onto anything as the water slammed into you, knocking Jake’s hand loose as you were sent careening back. Your back hit the wall of the railing, knocking the air from your lungs only for it to be replaced with a mouthful of seawater.

The water quickly rescinded, leaving you choking and gasping for air. Your throat burned from the saltwater, your eyes stinging as you fought to focus your eyesight. Your head swam with fogginess caused by the force of the wave and your head bouncing off the wood. Your hand came up to cradle your forehead, willing the pulsing to stop so you could get your bearings. You were vaguely aware fo the chaos that surrounded you, the pulses of pain giving way to something more sinister. All at once the world became to intense—the waves too loud, the flashes of lightning too bright. The sensations began to grow stronger, your breaths coming out in pants as your heart began to hammer away in your chest.

Something was wrong…but what?

Hands grabbed you, hauling you up and to the side just as another wave crashed into the ship from behind you. You landed on the deck with a grunt, the blow of your landing only softened by the person underneath you. You tore your eyes open, looking up to see Jake already watching you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice a deep timbre as he helped you up to a sitting position.

“I-” Before you could answer, a shrill roar like the sound of breaking class pierced the air, chilling your blood in your veins and causing your heart to stop. You scrambled to your feet, Jake not far behind you as your attention turned towards the dark waters surrounding you. That heavy feeling of dread filled you once more as movement rippled beneath the surface. The air was unsettlingly silent, pulling at your throat and squeezing it tight. The storm had calmed some, but rain still fell down onto the deck, drenching you down to the bone.

More movement caught your eye, something circling the boat, and you watched as slowly, the waves parted. Scales flickered in the light peeking through the grey clouds, causing a rippling effect along the greenish blue scales of the serpent. It was easily bigger than the whole ship, towering above the masts as it stared down with hungry, vicious eyes. Its jaw opened to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth, a horrible hissing noise leaving its maw as its body moved from side to side with the waves.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, terror striking through you at the sight. Several men shouted warnings just before the serpent came crashing down towards the deck. A splintering crack resounded in the air, drawing your attention to one of the masts, broken and hurtling towards the deck from the serpent’s strike. You had little time to react, only managing to dodge out of the way as the wood hit the deck, the vibrations of the impact rattling your teeth. A whizzing sound caught your attention, and you looked down just as the rope pulled tight around your ankle, dragging you back towards the railing.

You scrambled for the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh, unsheathing it and working furiously to sever the rope before it pulled you overboard. The threads released you with a snap, and you watched as the rope slithered over the railing and down into the depths below.

The serpent gave another mighty roar before once again diving towards the deck, the screams of men cutting short as the monster sank its fangs into flesh, dragging their wriggling bodies into its gullet. The sound of a familiar cry rang out in your ears, and you turned to see Mickey laying on his back, hands grasping desperately at his right leg. His teeth clenched tightly as blood poured from the wound, and a chill ran through you.

“Mickey!” You cried out, scrambling to your feet. Your boots thudded against the wood beneath you, but you only got a couple of feet before another ominous pulse shot through you, stopping you in your tracks.

The world seemed to grow still once more as the noise around you gave way to a high-pitched ringing in your ears, your breath coming out in slow, labored breaths as the feeling inside of you compelled you to turn. Slowly, you turned on the balls of your feet, facing the railing where your eyes met golden, snake-like irises. Blood dripped from the jaws of the serpent as a low, hissing noise escaped from its throat, the smell of death hot on its breath. You were vaguely aware of your name being shouted from behind you, too focused on the beast that stared you down. It made no move to strike at you, it simply continued to stare as if observing you. An energy hummed between the two of you, a feeling you could almost describe as familiarity passing between the two of you. It leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring as it gave you a curious sniff, its exhale blowing over you as it let out a low growl. It blinked at you slowly before retreating with a hiss.

The sounds of shouting off in the distance drew your attention away from the monster and towards the water beyond where the British ship was drawing closer. The serpent’s head snapped back to look at the new ship, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it sank into the dark waters surrounding it. You let out a shaky exhale just as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you into a wall of solid muscle. A second body joined in, wrapping arms around you from behind.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley breathed from behind. “You scared me half to death.”

You didn’t say anything in response, too shaken up by your experience. Why had the serpent stopped? What had passed between the two of you? You were only pulled away from your thoughts by the shaking of the chest you were pressed into.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look up into Jake’s face. You were met with a look of terror mixed with relief as he held you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopping only as the terrified screams of the British crew echoed through the air. You turned in Jake and Bradley’s arms to see the serpent beginning a new hunt, its meal easy pickings as it managed to tip the British naval ship on its side. Your hands tightened in Jake’s shirt as the sea beast let out a triumphant roar, lightning cracking overhead as rain began to pour down.

“Come on,” Jake murmured, releasing you slowly and turning to what remained of the crew. “We need to get to land.”

A/N: And thus marks the end of my hiatus! I'm still working on some other updates, but hopefully I'll be a little more motivated to write now that I'll be on the road a fair bit again. Thank you so much for all your patience. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get more updates out to you guys soon, but please bear with me!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[aestas---estas]

A conversation

Part 2 of this | MDNI 18+ | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~900 words | fem!reader, assistant!reader, protective!Simon, probable military inaccuracies, mentions of previous creep behaviour of an unnamed character | divider by @cafekitsune | Read on AO3

Simon's in his office, it's early Monday morning and he thought it best to get an early start on his paperwork rather than toss and turn in bed. He had always been an early riser, even before the rigid schedule of military life, not to mention the insomnia and nightmares. But this time, it hadn't been bad, twisted memories or the unexplainable inability to get his body and mind to relax that had made sleep elude him — it had been you. You, in that perfect dress. You, calling him in the middle of the night for help. You, hugging yourself tight to ward off the cold. You, in his jacket.

A knock on the door startles him from his thoughts, and he just knows it's you — he recognises the pattern of the knock, and a glance at the clock on his wall tells him the timing would be right. He grunts in the affirmative, just like always, and watches as you enter his office with a steaming cup of tea and a small biscuit.

“Good morning,” you greet, the smile in your lips as ethereal as ever as you place the cup and saucer on his desk.

“Morning,” Simon says back, following your movements out of the corner of his eye, not truly giving in to the satisfaction to stare. He can see though, that despite the radians of your smile, you look… bashful almost. 

“I, uh… I wanted to apologise again for my behaviour last night.” Simon says nothing, keeping his face down as if concentrating on the files he had been working on. A sharp, singular nod was all the answer you got, which only makes you ramble even more. “He wouldn't leave me alone when I said I wasn't interested, as if my no wasn't answer enough.” 

You scoff, shuffling a little on your feet as you remember the annoyance you had felt over that.

“So I, uh… I called you. Had to lay it on thick, that's why I called you baby. I'm sorry.” Once again, Simon says nothing, but he raises his gaze to your face. “Should've probably called someone else. You don't deserve to be dragged into my bullshit.”

“Why did you?” He asks, effectively cutting your rant short, and leans back a little in his chair; thighs spread wide and hands cupped in his lap.

“Call you?” He nods, waiting for your explanation with rapt attention and a raised eyebrow you can't see due to the mask. “I don't know. Needed a guard dog, I guess.”

“A guard dog? That what I am to you?” 

“N-no, that's not what I… fuck, I'm fucking this up.” You take a deep breath, straightening your posture and finally meet his eyes. “You were the first person I thought of when I felt uncomfortable and unsafe. When you walked me home from the pub that one time… it was the first time in a long while that I didn't feel the need to look behind me. I felt safe. I don't think I ever thanked you for that by the way, so, uh, thank you.”

“Thought you wanted Johnny to walk you home.” It's not said maliciously, and it only serves to confuse you. Sure, you'd had a great time talking and laughing with both Johnny and Kyle, but if you had wanted either of them to walk you home that night you would've said so.

“I never said that,” you supply with a soft yet confused smile. “I'm a grown woman, Simon. If I didn't want you to walk me home I would've told you. If I wanted Johnny to save me this weekend, I wouldn't have called you.”

“But you did call me.”

“I called you.”

It's quiet for a few moments as you both observe the other, something that can't truly be named flowing through the air. “And the kiss?” Simon eventually asks.

“Just a thank you gesture,” you answer with a shrug, feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment. 

“That all it was?” He prods, hands still clasped together as he leans forward with his arms on the desk. He's unconvinced, you can tell, and his penetrative gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“No. It's something I wanted to do,” you finally confess, hoping the admission won't be shut down or make your work environment uncomfortable going forward. But with the way his eyes have never strayed once from your form, the way he brought the kiss up and keeps prodding for a truthful answer, you don't think it will.

Simon lets your confession hang in the air for a moment, but you don't back down, only meeting his gaze head on and waiting patiently. “Alright,” he eventually says at length before going back to his paperwork. You don't really know what to make of his response, or lack thereof. It's only when you're halfway out the door to his office that he speaks again and stops you in your tracks, “I didn't mind it. Neither the call nor the kiss.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” you answer, throwing him another bright smile over your shoulder. “Oh, and your jacket. I was going to wash it before returning it but my washing machine is acting up and I haven't had the time to fix it.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

--- Masterlist

[redskull199987]

i have two so I'll probably send them separately, but at the same time I feel like that would be a lot of notifications (also fem reader please); #1 is giving mike schmidt head under his desk while he's at work and stuff , #2 is like playing with mike's hair and stuff to help him sleep and cuddling with him , and #3 is mike bending reader over his desk and going to down because he's had a pretty bad shift and needs to relieve stress. you can just do one or all, it's up to you

First of all, this is only one of these three requsts, the second one to be precise. The others will follow of course, don't worry. Until then, I hope that you enjoy this one. I had lots of fun writing this:D

So hear my Voice, remind you not to bleed

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:1.3k Warnings:tooth rotting fluff,kissing and hugging, that’s all, slight movie spoilers Summary:You knew that your Boyfriend had trouble falling asleep, so you did everything you could to help him find his way into sweet sweet dreamland…

Masterlist

You felt like shit. At least, that was the short version. And the longer one wasn't even that much longer. To put it simply, you had an awfully long week. And that was probably an underestimation. 

You fought murderous animatronics, a creepy dude in a bunny costume, a feral cupcake and after all that shit, you barely escaped with your life. And while you were fortunate and had only obtained a few minor scratches and bruises here and there, Mike had a few life threatening flesh wounds and Vannesa was lucky to be alive at all, after her father had stabbed her.

Your Bones ached and your head was pounding, as you finally made your way home. Unfortunately, you couldn’t just ask your Boss to give you a few days off because you had several Animatronic-induced wounds scattered over your body. Heck, you were happy you didn’t just lose your job after not showing up for three days in a row. 

All you could do was tell them that you got involved in a car accident and that you and your boyfriend had been in the hospital for a few days. Much to your favor, they believed you and the fact that Vanessa was still in the Hospital only backed up your little lie.

Your Mind was still racing, as you reached your little Home. It was already dark outside, as you stepped into the comfort of your Apartment. You saw Lights coming from the Living Room and the Sound of the TV slowly made its way into your Brain and pushed away the gruesome memories of the Pizza-Plex.

“Mike?”, You shouted into the darkness,”Abby? I’m Home.”

You didn’t receive an answer, so you quickly discarded your shoes and Jacket and walked into the Living Room. Only now, you noticed Abby sitting in front of the Sofa, drawing with her Crayons and listening to the sound of the TV.

“Hey Abbs.”, You smiled and leaned down to greet the little Girl. She practically beamed at you and gave you a small hug.

“Have You eaten yet? Where’s Mike?”, You quickly asked again as you rose back to your feet.

“Yes, we had Spaghetti with meatballs.”, Abby stated happily,”And Mike said he was tired and went to sleep already. He told me I could stay up for a little bit longer:”

“Okay then.”, You mumbled, gently running a hand through Abby’s Hair,”I’ll go join your Brother in Bed. Don’t stay up too late, okay Love?”

Abby nodded at you profusely before turning her focus back on the Half finished Drawing in front of her. You looked at her once more, before deciding to finally go see your Boyfriend in your shared bedroom. You knew that he was always tired. Even before you started dating. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

 But after recent events, his insomnia seemed to get severely worse. He could barely fall asleep anymore and even if he did, he’d be awake again a few hours later, jumping up with heavy breaths and a sweaty forehead. You always tried to comfort him and be there for him, but you still felt like you weren’t doing enough. Like, you should do more. But you didn’t know how.

With a sigh, You slowly pushed your bedroom door open. You were surprised as you realized that the lights were still on and Mike was sitting in the middle of the Bed, still fully dressed.

“Mike?”, You asked with furrowed brows,”Are You okay, my Love?”

He didn’t answer you at first. Only as you got closer and sat down next to him, he looked at you.

“S-Sorry, must’ve been lost in my thoughts again. I didn’t notice you coming in.”, Mike explained. His voice was raspy and tired. With a soft smile, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly:”It’s okay, don’t worry. You wanna go to sleep?”

Mike only gave you a nod and got up to change into his sleeping attire,which consisted of a Shirt and some sweatpants. You quickly followed him over to the wardrobe and before he could pull off his hoodie, you carefully hugged him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love You.”, you uttered against his skin. You could see how the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and the shiver that went down his spine.

“I love you too.”, Mike answered, taking a hold of your hands and turning around in your embrace. For the first time today he gave you a smile. A lazy one, but you saw that it was genuine. You quickly leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek, before you connected your lips with his in a tender kiss. You felt his hands wander to your waist and he pulled you closer. Warmth radiated off of his Body, while his lips worked against your own in passion.

As you finally parted due to the lack of oxygen, both Mike and you were panting against each other's lips. It was quiet for a few minutes and no one said anything, while the two of you just enjoyed each other's company.

But then you reached for the hem of his hoodie and as Mike realized what your plan was, he obediently raised his arms, so that you could pull the hoodie off of his body. After you let the Hoodie fall to the Floor, Mike grabbed the Hem of your sweater and the two of you repeated the whole action, but with your roles reversed this time. 

It didn’t take long, until you were both in your sleeping attires after you lazily helped changing each other.

With a drowsy smile, You grabbed Mike’s hand and pulled him back towards the bed. You had of course noticed that his expression wasn’t really the happiest, as he was afraid of having nightmares again. He had told you about them. It was always the same. He saw Abby, Vanessa or You getting stabbed by William Afton and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t move or scream. He just had to witness it.

“Come here.”, You mumbled and held out your hand as you saw that Mike was hesitating to lay down. His gaze wandered from the sheets to your face and it seemed like the soft smile you gave him did the trick on him. He gently grabbed your hand and let himself be pulled down by you. As his head was laying comfortably in the crook of your neck and your hands were slowly brushing through his hair, Mike let out a deep sigh.

“It’s okay. I’m here with you, Mike.”, You mumbled into his ear. You felt how his arms slung around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I know.”, Mike muttered under his breath,”You’re here.”

He took a deep breath in again, before you finally felt his body relax against yours. You quickly grabbed the blanket, pulling it over the two of you.

“Just concentrate on my voice.”, you said, soothingly rubbing his back with one hand, while the other still brushed through his hair to calm him down,“Listen to my voice. You’re not alone. I’m here with you.”,

“You’re here with me.”, Mike repeated quietly. You only nodded and continued to mumble sweet nothings into his ear. And within Minutes, you felt his grip on you loosen ever so slightly, while his breath became more even.

With a soft smile, You kissed the crown of his head once more, before also letting your eyes fall shut. If Mike could sleep, you could sleep too. And if he woke up, You would wake up too, no matter what.

[batsyforyou]

Simon Ghost Riley Sleep Headcanons

Pairing: Ghost x reader 

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: there shouldn’t be anything that might require a tag but if y’all spot something let me know.  

Doesn’t sleep at all because of his insomnia and PTSD  

Just stares up at the ceiling with a quiet mind 

And if he has the fan on he’s listening to the beaded cords clink together while the blades spin and hum 

On his bad nights he is rethinking and remembering his day and some of his worst memories.

He knows that a person can’t save everyone, not that he wants too 

But there are just somethings that haunt him 

There’s some good men he’s lost that didn’t deserve the fates delt to them and bad men that got what the good men deserved 

It makes him sick 

He typically sleeps on his back with his hands to his sides with a 9mm under his pillow and one tapped to the side of his dresser 

When he does sleep its very light and he listens to very sound 

When he first moved to his apartment he made every effort to learn every sound his apartment makes 

So he doesn’t even flinch when he hears those random noises that’d make most people jump at night 

Can almost predict when his fridge and vents are gonna make noise he knows it so well 

He normally doesn’t get nightmares just memories 

He honestly doesn’t think his brain can come up with anything new to scare him 

Not until he meet you 

It takes you months to convince him to move into your place 

He is hypervigilant with everything and the first thing he does is install a high tech security system 

He keeps an extra lock on your doors and windows and makes sure to lock the master bedroom up tight before bed so he can have a few extra seconds to react to an intruder 

He doesn’t share your bed for the first few months he is with you 

He has to learn to desensitize himself to sleeping with another person 

Mostly just to get used to the idea that the person in his bed isn’t a hook up nor do they want to stab him in the back in the middle of the night

But when he does get into your bed he melts into your warmth 

He relaxes into you and at first he sleeps on his side with an arm wrapped around your waist while he allows you to use his arm as a pillow 

Though after his first nightmare of you dying he distanced himself from you at first 

And after you corral him into talking about it he’d admit that he is scared of waking up to you dead or even if he came back from deployment to find you shot or killed worse if you were missing

After that he returns to sleeping on his back while you cuddle into his side and rest your head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat 

Though there are times he’ll be on his side facing the door to watch it when he can’t sleep and you’ll just cuddle up into him as the big spoon and wrap your arms around him and kiss his shoulder blade 

He won’t move from you but he will take a hand and bring it to his lips to press a kiss to your pulse point and keep his fingers there to reassure himself that your okay 

He doesn’t move at night no major tossing and turning is done 

Just the rare potty break but he moves so stealthily you don’t wake  

Overall Simon is a 9/10 sleep buddy

Edit: Y'all I was looking over this and realized that I forgot to add that his bed smells freaking amazing. Like come on you can't tell me that ain't true.

Masterlist

[sinon36]

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC

As I lay in bed, it's 5 am. My alarm is supposed to ring at 7 am. Insomnia hits again. So here we go! Enjoy the product of my foggy brain!

Warnings: fluff, some mentions of torture, curse words, insomnia, nightmares, threats, stalking but it's good natured, some mistakes ( grammar and spelling), interact at your own discretion.

-

When you first met it happened in the nonstop supermarket at the intersection a couple blocks from his apartment. It was 3 am. You were looking for coloured paper, he was looking for Kentucky burbon.

Both of you couldn't sleep for very different reasons. He just got back from a long mission, unable to sleep in his own bed, his own apartment, not as familiar as the base, always bustling with activity. The house was too quiet. Ears straining to hear something. An understimulated brain makes up sounds, that turn to memories, then night terrors. He was out in search of relief, getting so drunk he'd pass out and get some shut-eye.

You on the other hand were finishing up on materials for your little students. And then you needed coloured paper to finish. You huff and puff, and almost curse out but refrain from doing so, looking at your wristwatch you determine you have a few hours until the school day begins. Do you trudge to the intersection, hopping, begging for mercy and coloured paper.

You were the only ones there besides the half-asleep cashier. Your sound of triumph at having found what you're looking for travels to the liquor aisle. Simon's eyes point in your direction, not really sure he actually heard it or hallucinated it.

At the register, you cut him off not even noticing his dark-clad 6'3 body, whiskey bottle in hand. He let out a 'bloody hell', an almost whisper, but your teacher's instinct kicked in. 'Language' you'd said in a chastised voice eyes darting to fix him with a glare, the same you'd do to the children in class. But instead of a meager 'apologies, miss' you get a grunt out of him. You glare some more and turn away, making a barely audible comment directed at him. Naturally, he confronted you on that and you went on and gave him a lecture on how people like him make your work 10 times harder and how they are a bad example to future generations.

Both him and the cashier look at you like you've grown two heads. Honestly, the young guy behind the cash register, thought you might start a fight with the graveyard shift regular wearing a balaclava and buying alcohol well into the hours of morning.

But you didn't. After having said what you had to say you turned around on your heels, slapped the two packets of coloured paper in front of the young man, and then angrily put the money in his outstretched hand. You left in a flurry of murmurs, not even acknowledging the farewell words.

'feisty' he had commented eyes trailing on your departing figure. He chuckled at your interaction. That day he drank himself into unconsciousness thinking of you, and your plush lips spewing insults in his face, eyes alight with passion, face scrunched in barely contained annoyance.

You were a primary school teacher, that much he has gathered from your discourse. He wanted to see you again, and walking around aimlessly he came across the nearest school in the neighborhood. He started searching for your face behind closed windows. He had found you and waited for you, like the stalker that he'd turned into. He hoped you wouldn't call the cops on him.

As you near the gates, two rows of 3rd-year students behind you, loudly talking about how much fun they had with you. You laughed at their happy and springy attitude. They were the best students you've had so far.

And then your eyes met brown ones in a staring match. You'd walked closer starting to threaten him to go before you got him removed from the premises. He smiled under his balaclava, eyes watching in admiration. 'let's grab dinner...' he interrupted you. 'huh?' that was the most articulate answer you could muster. 'I owe you a proper apology. So dinner on me.' He explained in chopped sentences the voice deep and laced with a Manchester accent.

You forgot what you were saying and blushed hard, a cute smile plastered to your face. You were so easily swooned by this stranger and his interest in you. He could have been a killer or kidnapper. You threw caution to the wind. You said yes.

And now, now you were happily married, a couple years into it, actually. The house you bought is small but cosy. The living room table is always full of clippings of coloured paper and half finished materials strewn about. It's home for Simon.

He knows you're busy with schoolwork when he's deployed, so he doesn't worry about you missing him too much. But you do, and he misses you tenfold. So you make something for him, a little couloured origami frame that contains a picture of the two of you, for him to have. He carries it in his chest pocket, but only on base, where he knows it's safe to do so. Being captured with personal things like this in his possession could give the enemy leverage over him. He knows that, he's an expert in interrogation techniques. But he doesn't tell you all this, he knows you're sensitive to violence. So he instead promises that he will keep it close to his heart, all the time. His lucky charm. You're enamoured with him and he basks in your love without shame.

To be continued...

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 14: A Portrait of Exhaustion

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Bearblr Promptober Day 14: Somnophilia (Sub: Sleeping)

Summary: Carmy can't sleep after his panic attack, but his girlfriend can't sleep alone. She's more convincing than he is.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned panic attack (no active panic attack in this one), insomnia, sleepy bean fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, snuggling, Carmy comforting reader, she/her pronouns, fluff.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

This is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Reblogs appreciated. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

14 Oct 2024

How the shit was I supposed to sleep after a panic attack?

It came in fits and bursts. Reality frayed apart between my apartment in Chicago, Michelle’s place in New York, The Bear and, Empire. I became aware of Darling’s attempts to soothe me several times, and, not wanting to plague her with awful sleep after such a long shift—and incoming work the next day—I crawled out of bed. Shuffled to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, to push away the roiling memories of that broiling fucking kitchen. I was in Chicago, dammit. Chicago, my apartment.

My own reflection looked more dead than alive.

I was pale as shit. Maybe even a little green. The shadows around and under my eyes were deeper, had a blue or purple tone to them, made the blue in my eyes look dull, like it’d been through the wash ten too many times. Fuck, my hair was a mess. It didn’t even look curly anymore, it just looked fried. What did Darling say at the pumpkin patch? Crispy? Yeah, it looked crispy, wiry, reminiscent of a frayed line of twine or fucking pork floss. Might not have felt like it, but I needed some fucking sleep.

To the couch, then.

Terrible idea with a bad back anyway, but even worse when the only thing asserting any presence of reality was Darling’s hand between my shoulder blades. My stomach turned over repeatedly as I failed to fall into unconsciousness. I was both too sweaty and too cold at the same time, there was this strange burning sensation on my chest—bit like a bee sting, kept rubbing at it through my tank top. I’d drifted off a thousand times on that same couch over the last year-ish, but this time, I couldn’t find any way to be comfortable. First, it was my back, then the edge of the couch cushion digging into the very top of my hip, then my shoulder felt crunched up, then the pillow put my neck at a weird angle. The bedroom door creaked.

“Carmy?” she said from the hallway.

Well, now I just felt like an asshole for waking her up.

“Couch,” I croaked.

“Come back to bed.” She whined it. She was frustrated.

I thought about how I would convince her to go back to sleep without me. I could say I was wired. It wasn’t false—sleep was so far away I’d need a fucking map and compass to find it—but then, she’d just try to soothe me. Fucking hell, I get that I’m a fucking disaster, but do you have to burn yourself out over me? For what purpose? I feel shitty enough as a human as-is, I don’t need a fucking caretaker running herself into the ground on top of it.

“Come back to bed; I’m freezing.”

In retrospect, I find it both funny and intensely frustrating how fast I leapt off the couch and skittered to her after she said that. I’m over here thinking about how I don’t need a fucking caretaker, yet my girl mumbles once that she’s cold, and I completely forget every-fucking-thing happening with me because I gotta go take care of her. I have to make sure she’s okay, because if I do that, then I don’t have to think about any of my problems.

I’m a fucking hypocrite.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m coming.” I rounded the hallway to see her slumped against the bedroom doorframe, a portrait of exhaustion in every sense of the word. Her knees were knocked together, foot toe-down and pressed into the rug to stretch the muscles in front of her shin, her shoulders were hunched, her arms hung limp at her sides. Her hair was in her face—almost completely obscuring it—and her eyes were closed. She swayed on the spot, and I darted forward to catch her.

“Woah, woah, hey! Hey.” She half-righted herself, half-leaned into me, resting her forehead against the crook of my neck. Her nose was cold. “Shit, you really are freezing…”

“Fuckin’… landlords…” She reached for the bedroom door for some reason. I don’t know, instinct to close it or something. I swung it shut and set her down on the bed. Swept her hair out of her face.

“Sorry, I kept waking you up. I just-I just wanted you to get some good rest.”

“Yeah, well. You’re the space heater right now,” she pouted.

Something twisted in my stomach. Fucking landlords. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

She scooted back in bed to make room for me, patted the pillow. “And it scares me when you disappear like that.”

Scared her?

I crawled into bed, tucked her head under my chin, hooked her leg over my hip so I could rub her shin. Her cold little nose pressed against my skin as she kissed my collarbone. I tucked her arms between us to help her warm back up. Gathered the blanket up around her tighter.

“This is so comfy,” she mumbled, tightening her leg around me.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“No leaving again, please, sweetheart?”

I nodded. “Okay. Yeah, no leaving again. Why-why does it scare you when I go?”

She yawned again. “Sometimes, I have to remind myself that you’re real.”

Huh? “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I love you so much that you don’t feel real. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m going to wake up, and all of this will have been a dream.”

It must’ve been because I was still fried from freaking out—I don’t know. I can’t know. I won’t know. But whatever the reason, I asked, “Why do you love me?”

What kind of fucking question is that? Who asks that? And why would you ask that to someone whose mind is going numb from sheer fucking exhaustion? She should’ve told me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep, I’ll be honest, it’s what I fucking deserved. But no. No. She innocently delivered the kind of silent devastation that only words whispered into your skin when you’re seconds from shattering can. Her words didn’t hit me like a bullet to the heart, knife to the back, blow to the head, or a freight train, a semi, or a pickup truck. No, they sunk into my skin like a needle, only stinging for a fraction of a second before sleep mercy-killed me for the rest of the night. Left no marks the next day or the day after or the day after but had planted something deep in my soul that would fester, macerate, unearth gaping, open wounds in need of debridement and suturing. Darling didn’t know it yet—I didn’t know it yet—but she’d signed my death warrant with those words.

“What’s not to love?”

What’s not to love?

I change my mind about God. He does exist. And he’s a sadist.

[frostbitebakery]

filled prompts for @codywansleepbingo :D we got: spooning, deep sleeper, insomnia! nothing particularly to warn for, though this is set sometime in the HEA phase of I Got My Head Checked, the Sithywan AU. Rest of the ficlet and bingo card under the cut!

Soft Sick Underbelly

“Major or long-lasting stress can lead to chronic insomnia.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself.

It has been… a while since sleep turned away from him in such a snit. He’s not unfamiliar with insomnia. For a long time he had been too afraid to sleep, catching naps here and there during his training—

“Abuse,” Cody would correct him.

His unconventional youth.

Sleep was for doomed prey until he was shaped enough into a predator to grab the luxury and take advantage of it. To take and take until the sleep deprivation was a fond, silly memory of the weak.

To sleep soundly, arrogantly, next to an enemy until the blaster was pressed against his forehead like birdsong. Nothing to concern himself with because he was made to be just that good.

Cody, Obi-Wan mourns to think of their first morning, isn’t anything special in that regard. What made him special, and continues to do so, is that Obi-Wan came back into his arms to sleep, to rest, over and over.

With Cody, he could wake up slow and unafraid. How Cody manages the same is a mystery to Obi-Wan still, on some days. Possibly the insomnia talking him into the spiral of fear, hate…

He doesn’t bother to remember what came after hate in Qui-Gon’s little speech. Cody said it was something to do with toasters.

Cody isn’t naïve. Perhaps he’s still lacking a bit of life experience, down to the few years he’s existed and how, but he’s not going into situations without a plan. Admittedly, he had lost his sight for a tiny bit there when Obi-Wan slithered into his life like the snake he was. Nevermind that it all had backfired on Obi-Wan rather spectacularly, the blind spot for himself Obi-Wan had started to cultivate in Cody had turned out to be mutually beneficial.

Obi-Wan snorts to himself and goes back to reading treatments for insomnia in hopes the irony alone will put him to sleep.

The small data pad is balanced on Cody’s upper arm in front of him, angled away so no light shines into Cody’s face. Obi-Wan is nothing but courteous.

Cody is a deep sleeper, here. In their space, their home, with Obi-Wan. Endearing and humbling. Not naïve. Not even with his back, his neck, to Obi-Wan like a lamb.

It’s trust like a soldier shows. Endearing and humbling, indeed.

Obi-Wan desperately wants to hold his hand, suddenly. The urge rising in his chest. The back of his fingers brush over Cody in substitute, careful not to disturb.

Cody wakes up anyway.

Slow for a minute, then all at once with a jaw-breaking yawn. One of his hands flaps over and behind him, and Obi-Wan offers his own. Like Cody knows.

His hand is guided around Cody, cradled into his chest.

“Bad night?” Cody asks in a murmur.

Obi-Wan fits himself closer into Cody’s warmth, not exactly hiding from the world.

Sleepy eyes turn to him. “Still blue.”

He feels his eyes are blue but it’s a relief to have the confirmation. Sometimes he can’t tell the difference, insides feeling breakable and rotten.

Cody shuffles back into him, a barrier between Obi-Wan and everything else that is not in his head only.

The early morning sun shines on the windows, sneaks through the glass, and plays with Cody’s skin. It's mesmerizing. Charming, in its own way.

The tiredness, the pulling at his eyelids and thoughts, is sudden and unwelcome. It’s morning. They should get up. Routine is good for both of them, after everything. A bit of predictability to stabilize them. They still get up to too many fun adventures. They're somewhat the personified headache of the Jedi Order, especially after their vacation. But this is home. Home is where the masks fall.

Cody latches onto more of his arm, lays his cheek into Obi-Wan's palm. “I’m awake now. Do you want to sleep?”

“Keeping watch for me?” Obi-Wan teases and his wrist is kissed.

“If you want.”

He sighs into Cody’s neck. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Inserts the details into himself, of Cody watching over him like Obi-Wan watches in return. The light behind his eyelids, no suffocating darkness. Cody's stubble scratching over callouses.

Sleep doesn't come immediately. It takes its time. But eventually it's there, welcomes him like Cody's warmth.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Love is a mystery | Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x reader

Word Count: 841

Summary: With Harry’s help, Rosie finds old hobbies and new love in post-war New York.

Warnings: Mentions, of war, implied ptsd and depression, talk of marriage and pregnancy.

Authors Note: I honestly don't know where this idea came from, but I think my brain needed something a bit fluffy after watching all nine episodes of Master of the Air in two days and crying the whole time. [This is based off of the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I have nothing but wholehearted respect for the real life individuals and situations portrayed.]

Read on AO3

In the months following their return stateside, Crosby takes a trip to see Rosie. During a nice casual lunch, he spends far too long dancing around the fact that Rosie is visibly not okay, and eventually suggests that getting back into things he enjoyed before the war will greatly help his readjustment.

Rosie briefly considered placating him with an "I'm fine, really," but he only nods, unable to lie to Crosby. 

The truth is Rosie hasn't slept one full night since his first at Thorpe Abbotts and he gladly accepts shaky hands and reddened eyes over the twilight memories of what he saw and those he's lost.

Yet, after a night of particularly bad insomnia, he takes Crosby's words to heart and heads to the library. The pen trembles against Rosie's calloused hand while he fills out the library's card application, but his voice is steady when he asks the pretty librarian for recommendations.

He's too distracted by your shiny, kind eyes to notice how you recognize the distant look in his own. contrarily, You note in your diary that night how you couldn't tell if it was sympathy or his easy charm that made your heart race wildly while suggesting some classics and mysteries that should keep his mind busy.

-

"you need to get out more, Rosie," Crosby states in a letter one day.

It just so happens that during a now routine trip to the library, Rosie notices a half-hidden flier for an Agatha Christie book club pinned to the community board.

A week later—spurred onward once more by Harry's words—he pulls himself out of bed, has a shower and shave, and attends the meeting.

The cracked glass of Rosie's brown leather watch allows him to see he's half an hour late as he ascends up the small steps in front of the building.

Designated meeting room C is quiet and mostly dark as he pulls the handle. He's three solid steps inside the door when the room's sole occupant looks up at him—you, that same librarian with those same eyes.

He barely has half a mind to choose one of the provided refreshments—a cup of black coffee dangerously close to room temperature—before sinking into one of the many empty seats. The weary but logical part of him says that this is a waste of time, but the remnants of his fun-loving side tell him that he's got nothing to lose.

He takes a sip of coffee and sinks further into his seat.

While exchanging kind pleasantries, you retrieve a well loved copy of Why Didn't They Ask Evans? from your envelope handbag. Rosie quickly follows suit and slips his own newly bought but already dog eared book out of his leather coat pocket.

"So you liked it?" you inquire with joyfully clasped hands and a voice filled with breathtaking earnestness. After nearly choking on a hefty drink of coffee and his fluttery nerves, Rosie lets a bashful smile slip past his defenses.

Ninety minutes pass completely uncounted before Rosie steps back out onto the snowy, bustling New York City streets. He quickly shuffles home, tossing his coat and book onto a chair before dropping down onto his bed. He intends to return the items to their rightful place after a short rest, though the book will find a home on his bedside table after he spots your number jotted on the inside corner in loopy, flowing handwriting.

-

Spring is well in bloom when Rosie and Harry see each other again. 

Rosie spends the following two days giving the Crosby family a tour of the best sights and eats his hometown has to offer. 

Their third evening in town has Crosby swaying his young son to the music flowing through the jazz bar while covertly helping Rosie draft his proposal speech. You and Jean are sat within arms reach, though you both pay the boys no mind as you're fully entranced by the music. The night winds on, and the draft becomes a full, completed speech. They share a coy laugh as Rosie slips the notebook back into his vest pocket, knowing that if all goes right this moment will find its way into Crosby's best man's speech.

In this smoky bar just past dinner time, they both accept that they aren't the same men they were before the war. They’d seen a hell no words could ever describe, and yet the world somehow kept turning. They escape to the bar soon after, where Harry tells him that he'll soon be a father once more. Rosie offers his congratulations and jokes that he won't be far behind. The bar is dim, but Crosby still catches a glimpse of the lighthearted playfulness returning to his friend's eyes.

You and Jean coo and fuss over the baby as the men say their goodbyes. Through an especially tight hug, they make each other a silent promise to keep holding on. If not for who they were before but for who they are—and what they have —now.

[avionvadion]

side effect from the puppet magic

El: needs a cane to walk

Grim: becomes far sighted

Jack: asthma like symptoms

Vil: skin peeling

Jade and Floyd: Heart problems

Trey: is half deaf

Leona: IS AFRAID TO STAND STILL TOO LONG, AND THEREFORE CANT SLEEP

Why should Elmbe the only one who suffers 😀

Oh gods I could never curse Jack with asthma he doesn’t deserve that 😭😭😭 OCs yes but NOT MY BOY.

That said LEONA HAVING SLEEP PARALYSIS IS SO GOOD. I think Vil being scared of standing still too long would be good too since he’s a MODEL and models probably HAVE to stand still for photo shoots. LEONA HAVING INSOMNIA. THE IRONY. Jack COULD have insomnia too. He’s very particular about going to bed on a certain time. It’ll definitely interfere with his sleep schedule not being able to sleep because of the trauma of staying still.

I think Jade and Floyd should have the skin peeling when in their human forms since they’re Merfolk. Azul is gonna be so confused because since they’re merfolk their skin should be naturally moist (gods I hate that word, thanks high school) and shouldn’t be dry enough to peel at all yet it is.

…I hate drawing glasses, so I’m gonna make Grim deaf in one ear.

I’ll totally give Trey the asthma though. (Sorry, Trey, but the most exercise you usually get is baking, you’ll be fine.) Cater could be the one who ends up far sighted and has to start wearing contacts and/or reading glasses. (He would totally own this? He’d be like my eldest sister, with like five different colorful and differently shapes glasses that he’d change depending on his outfit.)

Hmmmm. Am I missing anyone??? Aside from Ace, Ortho, and Kalim.

AH, LILIA. Maybe like ghost pains kind of? He came SO CLOSE to being fully puppet. Sometimes it feels like his limbs are still wood and he has to jolt his arm or leg to snap himself out of it. His fingers ache where they had once been twigs. Sometimes his legs don’t move the way he wants them to. Other times he’s frozen still and he can’t move his mouth to speak and someone has to snap him out of it. Jade also probably gets this too, along with the skin peeling.

Just… really really creepy ghost pains. The trauma be REAL.

EDIT:

Thinking about it more, and the boys who suffer the most are going to be those who were wood the longest.

I don't remember the exact order of who got caught save for Jade, Lilia, Yuu, and Grim who were the first to get cursed, but those who were wood the longest will most likely share in phantom pains, insomnia, sleep paralysis, an inability to remain still for too long, and/or suffer a more physical aftermath such as potential anxiety-induced asthma as Fellow does imply that turning into a puppet makes it hard to breathe.

All of them will have nightmares. The majority will probably feel cautious/anxious about going near Amusement Parks. Grim will never be able to eat Apple-Core Popcorn or Fried Tuna again because of the bad memories it brings up.

Those who were wood shortest will probably jolt/jerk and rub/scratch at their arms because they just suddenly felt that awful sensation of being transformed out of nowhere only to realize they’re fine. Gidel escapes without out too much trauma since he was cursed just before the Hero Trio and Fellow went out in search of the "Boss" and was therefore the last one to get masked.

Ace, however, despite not being turned into wood, will be having extreme nightmares and guilt and anxiety.

For reasons that will be hinted at in the chapters I'm currently working on and will be fully revealed at the end of Book Two, he'll be blackmailing El into going to the Amusement Park with him- and thus blames himself when she turns into wood.

He already has nightmares from Riddle's Overblot when Eleanora fell into a temporary coma (though it hasn't been really shown that he has nightmares, his fear of her dying and getting hurt badly does make itself known in his protectiveness- which we have seen) but, because of his pettiness, she died. Even if only for a couple minutes, she was gone.

He's going to have severe nightmares about Eleanora dying again and again because of him, and her turning into wood being sold off as a puppet. Ace is going to despise puppets in all their forms, sock, wood, paper- etc.

And every time he sees her walking around with her cane, he's going to remember what happened at Playful Land. Ace, Ortho, and Kalim may have avoided getting cursed in this, and Ortho and Kalim are overall unbothered (Kalim being used to trauma and it just being par to the course, which is in itself its own trauma, and Ortho being a robot who merely just feels bad because if they had listened to Eleanora to begin with, none of this would have happened) but Ace?

Not only will he be blaming himself, but Deuce is going to blame him as well and beat the ever living crap out of him when he discovers Eleanora in another coma and Poma, our sparkly school nurse, pushing his unique magic to the limit trying to heal her.

It's gonna be rough.

[womp-womp-waa]

I'm bored and still grieving over the loss of a new episode so have some sbg hc's:

-Taylor and Tyler get way too competitive with eachother if they get put against eachother

-Aiden and Taylor always meet up together to play video games or to watch Disney movies

-Logan likes to talk about his interest to Ben who always just happily listens to him

-Ashlyn knows so many secrets about everyone just from her hearing

-I think Aiden, Ben and Logan would all love musicals, Logan's favourite would be Hamilton, Ben's favourite would be Wicked and Aiden's favourite would be legally blonde.

-Aiden has depression and only Ben knows about it and how bad it truly gets

-I think Ben and Aiden would draw things together. Ben would do it to help control his anger and Aiden would do it because he enjoys art

-Idk why but I like to think in the future Aiden goes to an art college and does animation for a living

-Tyler and Taylor got into sports because their dad loved it, but now they carry on doing it in memory of him and so that they can get a scholarship to not put any stress on their mum

-When at home Aiden would cry at videos of solders coming home to their pets

-The group surprised Ashlyn at her ballet classes multiple times causing her to get surprised and trip

-After Aiden's death Ashlyn stayed close to him during any movie nights

-All of them have nightmares, but they aren't as bad when they're all together

-Aiden has insomnia and always wakes Ben up by making too muc noise in the kitchen

-Because of Aiden's insomnia he sometimes has hallucinations from the lack of sleep. So sometimes he will just see a phantom in the corner of his room and Ben has to help calm him down

-Taylor loves stuff animals and managed to convince Tyler to get matching ones with her

-Aiden is either really clumsy or well balanced it just depends on the day (lol same)

-Aiden has multiple cabinets filled with different colours or hair dye

-Logan saw Aiden's roots grow out and decided to ask him about it and then they both dyed their hair together

-Ben always has a first aid kit in the house for when Aiden hurts himself (sometimes on purpose sometimes not)

-Whenever Ashlyn and her parents play monopoly they all get really competitive

-Aiden would play stardew Valley (he would try and date Sebastian)

-Ben knows sign language but doesn't use it that much

-Ashlyn also knows sign language for whenever she goes non-verbal

I have so many more hc but I'll leave it for now

[fastcardotmp3]

stranger things au where when it's all done, instead of the general fandom usual of NDA's and cover stories, those guys at the NINA Project figure out a way to use that same technology that brought El's memories back to instead wipe the memories of anyone involved in saving the world/ anyone who saw anything abnormal and replace them with the mundane.

It's the only foolproof way to make sure that none of That gets out, to make sure that no one decides to go poking around again 10 years down the line or write a book or a song or a movie that hits a little too closely to the truth, and the government loves themselves something that seems like a foolproof plan.

But what does this mean for our heroes? They don't remember the circumstances that brought them together, only the cover memories that were inserted in their place. They don't remember why they care so deeply for one another because a summer scooping ice cream or a walk through the woods or an-- impromptu game of baseball???-- doesn't quite line up with how it feels.

It feels bigger than that. It feels--

There are explanations for Steve's scars, he remembers a big dog and a trip to the ER, he remembers getting in a car accident and the seat belt coming loose enough to get stuck across his throat instead of his chest. He remembers-- blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, the outline of a man torn half to shreds--

He remembers a bad trip with Robin, but sometimes Robin will say something and it's-- when we got drugged- took those- when we uh, y'know tried LSD that time?-- fuzzy because of the bad trip of it all.

It's easy to accept the truth as the truth, because he remembers. It's easy, for years, to let the truth be the truth, to forget entirely that there are pieces that don't make sense, that there's no reason he should be as close with Dustin Henderson as he is because wait how did we meet? over a missing cat? It's easy, to just let it be true, because the love is there and that's what matters.

The love is there for a year and two and five and ten and Steve's life isn't always easy, in fact he's gone through his fair share of therapists for the insomnia none of them can explain, the confusion that both him and Robin talk about sometimes in the dead of night but can't remember talking about in the morning.

Eddie gets medicated for some sort of psychosis for a while because he had years of these intense night terrors that he could never explain to people, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the minute he would try to tell a shaking and terrified Steve or Robin or Nancy or whoever was present what it had been about he would just sob with frustration because he couldn't remember.

Max has a condition which made her lose her eyesight rapidly as a teenager, who has chronic pain that no doctors have ever found a real cause for despite Steve dragging her to appointment after appointment with fierce protectiveness in his eyes and voice, a desperation that there has to be a reason.

It's easy to accept it as the truth, that they all gravitated towards each other because they're all just a little fucked up in unrelated ways. That they connected to one another because oh you get scared sometimes too? scared like I do? scared like no one else understands?

Lucas starts spontaneously sobbing when some Kate Bush song plays on the radio in 1992. Can't explain it except that it hurts.

Nancy goes to a shooting range and feels her hands go steady for the first time in years in '93. She's never shot a gun before.

El Hopper had a traumatic enough childhood that doctors say she likely won't ever remember all of it, that her brain is protecting her, that-- that's probably true. They're doctors. They know better than Steve, they know about everything except why Max's legs hurt so bad she can't move sometimes.

They know everything except why Eddie can't feel pinned down without having a visceral belief he's dying.

They know everything except why Jonathan swears that their old house used to be painted a different color in the living room.

There are explanations for Steve's scars. He remembers a big dog.

Sharp teeth. Snarling.

He's in his thirties when he kisses Eddie Munson for the first time, because they're fucked in the head in the same ways, because no one else has ever gotten close enough to see the scars and hear the screaming and feel the desperation and not suggested maybe you need bigger help than I can give.

He's a grown man, and it's easy to believe the truth of his past, easy to think that growing older means it's supposed to be a little fuzzy around the edges, and that's okay because this feels bright and clear and technicolor, this thing with Eddie who has run away and come back half a dozen times but always does come back.

Whether he goes to Seattle or LA, New York or Boston; whether he and Steve are in the same place at the same time for more than a couple of weeks, he always comes back, they always find their way back to each other no matter where in the world, except--

Except there.

Everyone left that town with a haste-- or was it one at a time? No, it was the Byers first to California, except-- didn't Will graduate from that school? No. Because El went to school in Chicago at the same time that Robin started college there and she helped Will apply to the Arts Institute and--

And it was Max who went to California-- no, she was from there, but she also-- did she go back?

And why does Steve remember the house he grew up in but the minute he tries to step outside the back door onto the patio in his mind, out by the-- with the blue light and--

"Have you ever been back?" he asks Eddie one day, 32 years old and living in Chicago now full-time together. Robin's just down the road, Nancy's at the Tribune, Argyle has been franchising that coffee shop of his, is opening a spot here in town near his friends who he met when--

"Back where?" Eddie trails his hands through Steve's hair, laying half on top of each other on the couch and listening to some old tape of Jonathan's.

"Where we're from."

Eddie's fingers slow to an almost still and Steve props himself up to watch the way his brow furrows in concentration.

"Why would we go back?" he asks, and Steve has this flash-- like they've had this conversation before.

Like they've talked about where we're from before, although the name of the place never crosses their lips.

"I dunno," Steve slumps into Eddie's chest. They're getting older though so maybe just, "nostalgia?"

"Are you feeling nostalgic?" A rediscovered rhythm to gentle nails across his scalp. Soothing.

"It's where we met," Steve says. It feels true, although when he thinks about it-- "remember? How we met?"

"I..." Eddie's jaw clicks. It does that sometimes, on the same side with the scar.

There are explanations for Eddie's scars too-- a drug deal gone wrong, too many guys with too may knives-- or was it broken beer bottles? They used those as weapons, yeah. Tattered clothes and tattered skin and blood on Steve's hands--

No. He wasn't there. Blood on-- it was Dustin who found him? No. Wait, it was Wayne. Wayne found him, yeah, exactly--

"We met there," Eddie's gripping Steve's hair now, by the root. "We met back there. High school. Do you want to go back?

"Why would we go--"

Steve startles himself with the words, like they just-- like they weren't a choice to say, like they said themselves, like--

"Ed."

Breathing is tight. Steve sits up straight and looks at him. Scars on his face. Eyes so big and deep they hold endless histories--

"Eddie, do you want to go visit-- visit, uh, you know?"

"Why would we--" Eddie claps a hand over his mouth and hums out a sound of frightened discontent. "What. What the fuck."

"How did we meet, again?" Steve swallows. Eddie stands up, paces to the other side of the apartment.

"High school."

"How in high school?"

"Steve, I stopped taking those meds because they didn't help, but this isn't helping me not feel fucking certifiable either--"

"Eddie, I don't remember."

"Okay, so we're getting old!"

"We're not even middle aged!"

Eddie stops where he stands, shakes his head, and Steve watches him because it's easy to watch him, easy to look at the life they've lived and accept that they found each other, fell in love, because no one else gets what it's like to be fucked in the head. To know what's true and still feel wrong in that truth.

To believe it and still get lost in it.

Eddie clenches down on the tremble of his jaw and his eyes go big and imploring.

"What's happening, Stevie?"

There are explanations for all of it, but no one has ever been able to explain Max's pain or Nancy's sharp-shooting or Robin and Steve's inability to get drunk without losing it or the color of the paint in the Byers' old living room in that fucking town that Steve can't even think the name of--

"I'm calling Robin," he says, already striding across the floor. "I want to go back."

There are explanations.

Maybe that's not good enough anymore.

[legolasghosty]

Lockwood has never been overly fond of lavender. Sure, it's nicer looking and smelling than most of the other tools used to separate the living and the dead, but he's always felt a bit annoyed at it. He rarely brings it up though, because there's not really a reason for his dislike.

Maybe it's that the purple stalks are everywhere, all the time. Along every London street, in every garden, in every room where mortals fear those who have passed beyond. Even in the winter, everyone has dried flowers in their homes and sprinkles the oils over their doorsteps. There's no way to get away from the stuff.

Maybe it's because lavender water is one of the weakest tools in an agent's toolkit. Lockwood barely ever uses it for anything other than reassuring clients that their home is safe after a job. For all the discussion of it, it's nothing in comparison to some sturdy iron chains and a rapier when it comes to battling ghosts. It's just a waste of space in his coat during a job.

Maybe it has to do with the way the scent sets people at ease. Somewhere in George's research, Lockwood remembers him mentioning how lavender water used to be used to treat insomnia before the Problem. Even now, with it being used to protect mortals from everything that goes bump in the night, he doesn't miss how the smell of lavender tends to cause people to loosen up, laugh a bit more, and let their guards down. Any kind of weakness can mean death for an agent, even when it comes from one of their own weapons.

Or, if he's being honest, maybe it goes deeper than that. Maybe it's because Jessica's room is always covered in the stuff, and has been since the day he failed to save her. Maybe it's because the flowery scent is all he can remember from his parents' funeral. Maybe it's because the stupid plants kept tripping him when he ran away from his old agency. Maybe it's just too many bad memories.

Regardless of the reason, Lockwood has never really liked lavender.

However, it's hard to hold onto those thoughts with Lucy sitting on the grass nearby, surrounded by night watch children, with a sloppy crown of purple flowers on her head.

She's had a soft spot for them for as long as Lockwood has known her. She claims it's because of how close she became to being one of them when she first got to London. Lockwood suspects that's not the whole story. But today, her kind heart has led them to a park down the street from Portland Row, at the beckoning of a group of children who had pooled their meager earnings to have a picnic.

Lockwood has stayed on the outskirts of the little gathering, unsure as to what would be expected of him if he joined in. But Lucy is right in the middle, regaling the kids with stories of the ghosts she's defeated. They're hanging on her every word. Lockwood can't blame them for it, Lucy is a good storyteller when she wants to be. Even if she glazes over his parts in some of her tales.

But one of the older ones had gotten restless and begun plucking sprigs of lavender from a nearby bush. Lockwood had been about to reprimand them for the needless destruction of public property, but they'd begun weaving the stems together into a chain before he could speak. It was barely five minutes before they looped the chain into a circle and plopped it onto Lucy's head without a word.

And now, staring at Lucy, her eyes bright in the sunshine, her hands waving around as she described the Greenhouse Ghoul, and those flowers shining like gemstones in her hair, Lockwood can't quite remember why he doesn't like lavender.

In fact, he thinks he very much enjoys how it looks right now. Maybe it's not so bad after all.

(For the most recent Lockwood and Co Flash Fiction Challenge by @lockwoodandcoff!)

[loonarmuunar]

Epithet side effect headcanons that somehow turned into disability stuff while I was writing 👍👍 (these are kinda angsty I did not intend for that to happen but uh here we are—)

Molly — sometimes if she overuses her epithet, it can almost “nullify” her mind in a sense, giving her short-term memory problems on occasion. Usually it’s mild and doesn’t have much effect, just normal everyday forgetfulness, but when it’s bad, her head gets really fuzzy and she can’t focus or remember anything, she gets awful migraines and headaches, and she has a sort of feverish mind (y’know like when you’re so sick ur head feels Weird and u can’t Brain right). It’ll go away pretty quickly as long as she rests, but uh. We know she ain’t getting much of that.

It’s really Stressful and frustrating for her, because she KNOWS she forgot something but she can’t remember WHAT in the slightest.

This doesn’t happen very often thankfully since she doesn’t strain her epithet much, it’s like a once-every-few-months kinda thing.

Giovanni — got this one from a fic, Giovanni has a lot of sodium in his blood (cause soup, salty) which gives him wonky blood pressure, and it causes chronic nosebleeds. I like this one a lot cause I used to get nosebleeds on like a weekly, and in the summer, daily basis as a kid.

He got his first nosebleed in late spring when he was about 5 or so, just running around outside. He didn’t notice (and trust me when I say it can be HARD to notice) for a LOOONGGGG time. He ended up losing a LOT of blood. When you get a nosebleed it can sometimes run down into your throat and you’ll start spitting up blood it’s Uncomfortable and Gross. Anyways he went back home, went “hi moms :3 *soaked in blood, choking up blood*” andddd they Freaked Out.

He’s anemic because of it, and has to take iron meds. If he forgets to take them he gets really dizzy, and if it’s particularly bad, he can faint.

Sylvie — Narcolepsy. And insomnia. You can have both (and from what I know, they often go hand-in-hand), and he is Not having a good time.

He’s exhausted during the day, he tries to take stimulants to stay up but they don’t always work. When it’s night, he can’t go to sleep for the life of him, and if he does, he wakes up very often. It’s Not Fun. Sometimes he just gives up, and sleeps all day, then works all night.

Mera — We know the side effects, but I’m gonna mess with it a bit (aka I’m projecting). The muscles around her joints are really weak and frail, meaning it’s looser, so she has Hypermobility. Possibly also Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She’s got a lot of joint pain on top of her regular pain.

She’s got it b a d, if lifts her arm up too high it’ll jerk and she’ll be like “oh yup. Dislocated again.”

She’s absolutely COVERED in bruises and scars, whenever she has to get stitches it constantly tears. She heals horribly. She’s starting to develop arthritis as well.

Medication usually doesn’t do anything for hypermobility related pain, if you’re lucky it’ll take the edge off. Indus helps her out with heatpads and stuff, but other than that, she just has to tough it out.

Indus — nothing. Have u seen this man?? He probably drinks disgusting high vitamin smoothies every morning, he eats full proper meals, dude is in PEAK CONDITION. If he did have any side effects it would be completely negated by his sheer healthiness. Diseases and conditions fear him.

He is however that One Person who is prepared for Everything and will help u if u need it. He carries medication and heatpads for Mera in case she forgets them, as well as bandaids and antiseptic wipes. He’s just a Good fella… <33

[marilynthornhilllover]

When you call my name. Do you think i'll come running? {Part 2}

+ if we were meant to be we would have been by now.

+with the fire that you started in me, but never came back to put it out. Watch my heart burn.

Warning: indecent language, slow burn, sadness, grief, anger/rage, frustration, insomnia, confused, death, fear, forgivness,fluff. Sorry if this is a bit long😭

Want to read part 1? : Part 1

You woke up the next morning feeling completely cold, you were shivering like crazy. You were positive you didn't have a cold. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up in bed. You sighed as you looked over at the time. Only 30 minutes to get ready. You groaned as you got up and stretched. You walked over to the bathroom and showered. When you returned from the bathroom you saw winter clothes in a bag waiting for you along with a note.

- good morning y/n, I trust you slept well, first nights were hard for everyone, my dear. The lady wishes to speak to you. - headmaiden Elizabeth sepol.

You half smiled at the letter and threw it in the bin. As you were getting dressed you couldn't help but wonder why on earth lady dimitrescu would want to speak with you. There was no reason for her to speak to you. You sighed and walked out your room locking it behind you. You noticed that everyone was dressed the same, probably because of the weather conditions.

You walked towards the elevator, watching as Leah and her small group of friends are giving you dirty looks.

" she's gonna be the lady's next bottle of wine soon girls. She'll call it the 'clumsy newbie" Leah whispered playfully causing the other girls around her to laugh.

"And the only reason why your probably still here is because the lady doesn't like drinking idiots blood" a voice rang from behind you. You turned to see a girl that looks like Leah glaring at her. They're probably sisters you thought to yourself.

" the fuck you just say to me bitch?" Leah spat walking towards the girl behind pushing you away. You saw Leah swing her fist at the girl and the other girl pulling her hair before someone pulled you into the elevator. You yelped as the doors shut. You turned around to see Sarah.

" it's better to not be there while their fighting or you'll get framed as a participant, which is pretty fucked up if you ask me" she chuckled. You liked Sarah, she was brunette with beautiful green eyes, perfect lashes, good eyebrows, pump lips and she was around 40. You wanted to look like her when you get to her age. She was absolutely breath taking. She was also very kind. You'd say kinder than Elizabeth.

"Does the lady punishes them?" You asked noticing how she's dressed in her usual attire.

" no, but the guards does, their like the police around here. You get into a fight and your thrown into the 'dark room' for 48 hours, no food, no water and no light. The lady says it helps them think about their actions" Sarah said chuckling as she fixed her hair.

Of course alcina wants everyone to think about their bad actions but what about hers. She's trying to play goodie too shoes and she murders people. And has the audacity to tell people to 'think about their actions'. She has to be a maniac.

" so why aren't you dressed like us?" You asked her.

"I can handle the cold darling, unlike some people" she responded, mumbling the last 3 words. You wanted to ask her what she means but another question crosses your curious mind.

"How long have you been working here?" You asked turning back to face her. You could see that the question brought up memories for her, and not the best ones.

" quite some time.... for as long as i can remember honestly" she said coldly, looking down at the floor.

" I'm sorry, if I overstepped " you said softly, she looked at you quickly and shook her head reassuring you it's ok. She heard the way your voice cracked, she knew there was something else bothering you. She gently placed her hand on the lower part of your back, rubbing it slightly.

" don't pay Leah any mind y/n, she's like this with every newbie. As crazy as it sounds she's actually looking out for you. Making sure you don't slip up more than you need too. We've all seen some fucked up shit go on in here, and hate if it happened to you too" she spoke Truthfully, smiling. But it didn't reach her eyes.

You couldn't help the questions from coming. You had to know.

"Did lady dimitrescu killed your parents? Lover, friend maybe?" You asked narrowing your eyes. You can see that the question caught Sarah off guard, it stabbed her brutally, your question hit her like a Breck wall. And in her reaction you found your answer, though you didn't know which it was, but you knew lady dimitrescu killed someone she loved more than herself and the wound most definitely still hurt.

Sarah tried her best to keep her tears at bay, flash backs were all she saw now. She wasn't mad at you, but at no one. What happened was a long time ago and it was an accident.

"I'm sorry, i- I definitely overstepped now, I'm s-" she cut you off by caressing your cheek.

"Lady dimitrescu is a good lady y/n... despite all the fucked up things she's done and still do in the history of the universe... she's a kind heart woman, never forget that" Sarah spoke, voice breaking. The elevator ding and the doors opened to the hall of lady dimitrescus private headquarters.

You stepped out and looked back at Sarah who had a soft smile on her face.

" she's good" she whispered before the doors closed again. You couldn't help but stand there. Frozen. This was all so confusing. Did lady dimitrescu kill every maids lover? Parents?...And even if she did they still have the heart to work for her?. Are theses people nuts you thought to yourself. How can she be good. After all thoses lives she took. She's still good. Why.

There's so much back story to everything here at the dimitrescu castle and you wanted to know everything. Even if it's too painful to handle. Because what goods does alcina do that covers all of her bads. You realized you've been standing in the same spot for 5 minutes now and decided to head to the lady's study.

On the door laid a gold plate. Countess Alcina dimitrescu. Above had four torches and the dimitrescu coat of arms in sliver.

"She's a good woman" echoed in your head over and over again. You missed the lady's voice when she said enter that you just pushed the door and go in. Praying that she said to enter. As you entered the heat radiating from the room hit your body.

The lady's study was beautiful. Everything was made of fine gold or perfect chiped wood. Her study screamed royalty or even old money vibes.

Your eyes flicked around the room, admiring everything. How it's all well put together and neat. You didn't notice the lady's preying eyes on you. She found your admiration intriguing and adorable. You were different from the rest maids. No maid as ever looked at her office the way you do. She was curious about you, and she was willing to take her time and find out more about you.

" tell me when your finish draga" she spoke. You immediately snapped out of your trance and looked over at her. She was looking through papers and now and then looking up at her computer, her reading glasses on the bridge if her nose and the blue light from, the computer creating a beautiful hue on her face. She looked eternal. You traced back to her words, "tell me when your finish draga". Her voice was so soft and elegant.

How was she not mad at you for wasting her time? You took a seat in a chair infront of her desk and looked at her carefully.

" you requested my presence, my lady. You wished to speak with me?" You asked, watching as she looked up but not to look at you but at her computer. Last night she only wanted to look at you and now she refuses to look at anything that has you in it.

The silence began to get awkward. She could feel the nervousness radiating off you and your heart beat increasing by the second. She finally decides to look up at you. Staring into your soul over her reading glasses. You were fidgeting with your coat and bouncing your leg, you mouth slightly agape letting out cold air.

" do I scary you y/n?" She asked, sliding her chair out from her desk and clasping her hands together. You looked up at her to see her already looking at you. She wanted to know everything about you but she kept her questions at bay. She regrets not getting a record book from you when you signed up for the job. She has record books for everyone except for you. Maybe if her younger brother Karl didn't play with her head the day you sighed up she would now know alittle bit about you. How she hated Karl more now...

" Your a very.... your one of a kind my lady. Your not very different from us humans.... I think what do makes you different though is very fascinating.... it makes you special and with that specialty my lady comes great fear from others because we know what your capable of" you spoke bravely. You didn't know where you found the words to answer her question. You just spoke from your heart and you were happy.

" so no my lady I'm not scared of you..... I'm sacred of the power you hold. There's a different...." You spoke again. Alcina's mouth opened to say something but she quickly closed it. Processing the spectacular answer you just gaved her. The more she looked at you the more curious she became. Why aren't you like the other maids. What makes you different. It surely isn't your bravery..... no it's something more.

You were like gold in her eyes. Treasure. A valuable asset in her life now. No maid as every answer her question like that. It was always no my lady although they're clearly lying or yes my lady. No one has every gaved a answer like yours. In you she found hope. You were special.

After looking at you for some time she spoke up.

" Well then, today I need you to grab some wood from the forest. It's going to be cold tonight and unlike some, others can't handle it" she spoke firmly. She was the second person to say that to you. Who were they referring to you really had no idea.

" with all due respect my lady I'm new I don't know much as yet do you really think that's the best idea" you said slightly leaning over her desk. Lady dimitrescu raised her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at you. She slowly stood from her chair and leaned close to your face, towering over you. Your lips not even centimeters away from touching. You couldn't help your eyes when they flicked down to her cleavage.

She took your jaw into her hand and raised your face up, making you look into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and there was some dark mystery in them. You've never been this close up to her. Looking into her eyes was like looking at the ocean. It was pure but dangerous. How the fuck is she so pure and she kills innocent people.

" don't be smart mouth with me little girl. I admire you. But your smart right? You'll figure it out" she spoke dominantly eyes darting down to your lips. They stayed there for a while before grazing back at your eyes. She just met you yet she felt herself wanting to say 'I love you'. love was a word she used to say years ago. Words that held strong feelings. But since life dropped her like a sack of potatoes she no longer found hope in thoses words.

She would only say them to her daughters. But deep down she didn't even know if she meant them. She was broken for so long, been in darkness for over centuries. And now you stepped into her castle. Into her life. She was beginning to see light.

And you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She wasn't the monster everyone said she was. No she's a mother. Someone who taught their life was worth more, going to be more. Before the rain of darkness started and never ended.

She saw sympathy and pity in your eyes. She saw..... love? She let go of your jaw and proceeded back to her seat. She placed her reading glasses back on her face and went back to her papers and computer.

" when you returned, inform me so I know you didn't die. Oh and close the door on your way out" she spoke coldly. You heart whinced at the tone of voice. You wished she could stop shouting people out. You looked at her one last time. She wasn't helpless at all.

You sighed as you left and close the door behind you. Alcina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and closed her eyes for a moment. Rubbing her temple.

You walked back down the alley way and into the elevator. While the doors were closing you saw a fly come out the the peak hole of the lady's office. You narrow your eyes at it. Looking at how it flew wildy. Soon it flew right up to the door right before it was going to close and you heard"BOO" you screamed and it laughed. The fly literally laughed.

" CASSANDRA!" You heard alcinas voice yell and the fly quickly turned into a girl. Her daughter. You looked at her in awe. She smirked at you before turning into a fly again and disappeared. The doors shut and the elevator started to move.

~

You grab an axe from the storage unit and open the door to go outside.

" wow where are you going princess, there's a snow storm passing. The wind will blow you away" spoke a voice from behind you. You turned around to see the same girl from earlier who defended you against Leah. She looked good. Like she never got into a fight.

You smiled softly at her.

" aren't you supposed to be in the 'dark room?" You asked and she chuckled slowly making her way towards you. She gently placed her hand on your shoulder, looking at you intensely while biting her lip.

" I'm emily by the way, you must be y/n" she spoke giving you her hand to shake. You gladly took it and shook it.

" because of the storm tonight everyone needs to be on duty to protect the girls so they can't have anyone in dark room" she said Slightly shivering as the wind blew inside. You quickly closed it and raised an eyebrow.

" who girls?" You asked Dumbly every maid and worker was a female but you needed to know exactly who she was referring to.

" the lady's daughters. They can't survive in the cold, hence the reason why there're always in their rooms. It has to be really hot for them or they'll die. Think of it as a allergy. That's why the lady is so freaked out. They say she's been trying to work on a cure for them for years but mother miranda stopped it, said she didn't care. But hey you didn't hear this from me ok?" She said looking at you seriously. This was one background story unlocked and you were itching to find out more.

"Yeah of course I mean I'm no snitch. Who's mother miranda?" You asked and emily shush you and pulled you into a little corner.

" she's just a random bitch who the black god blessed with very powerful powers and rules the village. I heard she's heartless. She kills for fun. Also she's very close with the lady, disrespect the lady you disrespect her. No bad deeds goes unpunished by her. She's not as friendly as alcina trust me. But as time goes by you'll find out more." She whispered.

You were completely stunned by who this miranda woman was. You never heard of her before. And now you heard who she was, you couldn't help but think if lady dimitrescu was the person you saw kill your friends. You felt so confused. You didn't even notice that emily was still talking.

" Hello? Earth to y/n. I asked where your going?" She asked looking at you weirdly, you were so lost in thought.

" I gotta go, um to get wood for the fireplaces, I'll be back" you said re-opening the doors to go outside.

" ok, don't let the lycans bite" she chuckled, closing the door behind you. You turned around quickly. Don't let the what bite?. You sighed as you opened the fence gate and walked out into the forest. You picked up some wood that fell from the weight of the snow and threw them into the barrel.

You saw someone running towards your direction in the distance and you narrowed your eyes.

" what the fuck?" You whispered, your teeth slightly chattering from the cold. As the figure came a little closer you saw that it looked like a zombie. You let out a very loud high pitched scream making the creature smile wickly and apparently run faster. You kept screaming and started to run quickly pushing the barrel with you.

You slipped and fell hitting your head hard against a wood. Your world started to spin, you couldn't even register the pain throbbing through your head but you knew it was there. You heard the creature get closer and closer and then you blacked out.

You woke up and quickly stood up. The whiplash making your cry out softly in pain. You looked around and saw no one. The barrel still had the wood. You groaned as you quickly walked back to the castle. You almost died. Your tried to remember what happened. All you could recall was seeing a zombie, falling and alcina being the last word to leave your lips, only person on your mind.

You opened the gate and locked it behind you, same with the door. The guards took the barrel of wood from you and you slowly walked up the stairs. Holding the back of your head. The world seemed blurred and loud. Like it was all just background noise.

" hey newbie, the lady wishes to see you" shouted a maid from the library door. You whimpered as her tone of voice made your head hurt more.

You pressed the elevator door button and got in. When you arrived in the hallway again you took your time and walked towards the big fancy wood door.

Your head finally feeling a bit better. As you approached the door you heard soft cries. You carefully stood aside and peaked through the space that was open. There was alcina sitting in her couch next to the window with her daughter. It wasn't Daniela, the girl you saw on the first day, or Cassandra the one who scared you.

This one looked more humble, more settled atleast you thought so. She had short blonde hair with black in the roots and she was wearing a black dress with a hoodie coat over it. Black lipstick to match and weird jewelry choice. She was all cradled up in alcinas arms crying.

" I d-don't wanna die m-mommy, I'm c-cold" she mumbled, alcina kissed her forehead gently she started to slightly shake her. She started singing a lullaby to her in Romanian while running her hands through her hair. She wiped her tears and lifted her chin.

" it's gonna be ok draga mea. I sent someone to get you and your sisters woods for the night. You won't die" she whispered a tear falling from her eye. You've never once seen alcina this.... vulnerable. Calm and kind. Under all that cruel act, cold heart she only just a mother..... a mother who cared. A mother who loved. A mother who provides. A mother who protects. She wasn't a monster. She's human. Maybe not like the rest of us, but she just like us. Because she has feelings....

Bela turned into flies and disappeared. Alcina cleared her throat and returned to sit behind her desk.

" you can enter draga" she shouted. You walked in and closed the door. You walked up to her desk and sat.

" how is your head injury?" She asked looking at you gently. She really does care.

" how did you know?" You asked. Shifting uncomfortably, her gaze was giving you goosebumps.

" I heard you heartbeat draga mea, I heard your scream, I heard when your heart beat went calm again. And I knew. I just knew you got hurt." She spoke softly.

" what are thoses things out there" you asked glancing at the window and back at her. She chuckled. It sounded so beautiful and relaxing.

" that doesn't concern you for right now, you won't be in they're reached" she spoke, looking over at her computer.

" Well it inflicted harm to my safety so i have every right to know" you spoke, your tone slightly high and powering.

Alcina looked at you shunned by your backlash but yet no anger formed in her towards you.

"You may leave" she spoke softly, picking up her pen she started to flick through papers. Why was she so nice to you.

" you know I was the one who got away" you whispered getting up to leave. Alcinas eyes went dark. She began to have flash backs. She whispered a small 'oh' and looked at you sorrowful. She regretted it.

" y/n-" she tried to call out but you were already gone. You didn't needed her apology, some how you already forgaved her. Now it's gonna take alot of convincing to make your mom cancel the plan.

You returned to your room and went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.....

Tag list: @willalove75 @ilovehugslikealotalot if you want to be tagged comment below!♡

[didyoulookforme]

matty sending you dirty photos, please!

this is stylist au coded :)

there is this night when both of you are already in your bunks because it’s way too late and everyone is sleeping around you. matty keeps texting because he knows both of you have bad insomnia, so he just wants some company. it is mostly small talk, him chatting about things he messed up during the gig, you admitting how you still can’t believe you’re on tour with them, etc etc.

the next alert pops up on your phone with an “image attached” message, so you click it and it’s a dimly lit photo of matty lying down on his bunk, doing a motion as if he’s blowing you a kiss. “happy to have you here, darlin.” it’s difficult to not focus on how beautiful he is, disheveled curls all over his pillow, your gold chain around his neck. makes you smile to know he doesn’t even take it off when you sleep. “still want my necklace back… but you’re cute <3”

you snap a photo of yourself and hit send, not really thinking much of it. “you’re the pretty one here, love… also, nice shirt ;)” you’re confused as to why he would mention that, given that you usually sleep topless (buses tend to get hot and stuffy). then it clicks, taking a look at the photo you sent and instantly realize that you could see your shoulders and it’s clear you’re not wearing anything underneath. you feel your face grow warm, thankful that no one’s around to notice.

“shut up, matty”

“what? not lying. just wish i could see you”

“outta luck tonight, then!”

he sends another photo, this time of him mock frowning, a hand over his bare chest partly covering that tattoo you’ve now committed to memory.

“you’re breaking my heart here :(“

as you type your phone buzzes once again.

“what if i go first..?”

“pardon?”

“you know what i mean, love”

and you obviously did, you just weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle possibly getting a dick pic from him, fully aware that he’s just meters away from you doing so.

“yes or no?”

you type and delete several messages before settling on a short “yes.” as soon as you hit send, you turn the screen off and hide the device under your pillow, feeling a mix of anxiety and uncertainty as you wait. finally the phone vibrates and you swear your fingers move on their own accord, fumbling to open the screen.

it’s a photo of him. hand over his boxers, chipped polish dark like the material, long fingers grabbing his cock, only the tip visible and his thumb resting on the slit.

“your turn ;)”

fuck fuck fuck

what now?

you fumble in the small space to take a photo of your tits, realizing that the only way to do so is by showing part of your face. then you get an idea. you raise the camera, place your left hand over your mouth and snap a few frames. once you’re happy, you send it over hoping that you didn’t leave him waiting too long.

“wish it were your fingers instead…”

you can’t help but smile, feeling like a silly teenager all over again, sending photos to your grade 11 crush.

“promise they’ll be next time, sweetheart”

then the next photo arrives. the calvin klein boxers are nowhere to be seen, his dick hard again this abdomen, fingers loosely resting over his flower tattoo, beads of precum now clearly dripping from the tip.

if it were socially acceptable, that photo would be your lock screen <3

[authorhjk1]

December Special!

Round Two!!

Hi everyone! This will be our last and final round throughout the coming week. The links in this post will direct you to the four polls for the four chapters. Keep in mind that I will decide on the order randomly as I write along.

I put all the options into this post, beacuse I do not have the nerve to type all of this four times. Tumblr doesn't let me copy text and paste it into a post.

Have fun!

Chapter

Chapter

Chapter

Chapter

1.

You knew this might happen. You read the script of your knew role in the upcoming kdrama. And yet, you are surprised when your co-star pulls you aside after filming that day. Seo Yeaji's face can switch in a heartbeat. From a cold and emotionless mask, to an adorable , cute smile. While she asks you, if the two of you could practice the next scene, her face shows a new expression. Lust. It's quite a spicy scene after all.

2.

Idols are always stressed, overworked and tired. On top of that, they can't even relax properly. They have to be careful about their food, words and actions. And one thing, that some people might neglect, is sexual satisfaction. That becomes a problem for Karina, Jihyo and Eunbi. Having bigger breasts only adds to their problems. Due to stress, their milk production starts to rise. When the three of them invite you to join their pre-Christmas party, they obviously have ulterior motives.

3.

IU's and Kang Seulgi's competition started, when they caught each other, having sex backstage during an award show, a couple of months ago. At first, it picked up slowly. Random challenges, send via text on kakaoTalk app, answered by pictures as proof of the accomplished mission. Now, the two of them are tied, desperate to come up with something new. Luckily, IU and Seulgi have a lot of fans, who are more than happy to help them out.

4.

You and Irene are coworkers with a special history. The two of you tried out more kinks and positions and places than even married couples. But some things are still missing. Luckily, Irene has a friend who got hired a couple of weeks ago. You were planning on welcoming her properly anyways.

5.

After just being hired by Dreamcatcher Company, you are already tasked with shooting Jiu's and SuA's special clip. Jiu knows that you are an Insomnia and that SuA is your bias. Maybe you will get to shoot another type of special clip with the two of them, thanks to Jiu.

6.

You meet your exgirlfriend IU at a high school friend's wedding. After the memories of your school times come back, the two of you sneak off.

7.

You have worked with a couple of idols already. They are often models and embassadors for brands after all. Now you are tasked with filming a small video to promote Jimmy Choo's newly designed dress. The woman who appears in your studio is no other than Cho Miyeon.

8.

Yuna has always been quite kinky. But her Christmas present for you this year is on another level. It's Ryujin. She is kneeling on her bed, wrapped in red lingerie and a bow like a gift. Her hands are tied behind her back, while her eyes are covered with a red blindfold.

9.

You have already tried everything. Drinking warm milk with honey, listening to music, reading a book. Nothing. Working out, spending more time on your job. Nothing. Even after bringing that girl home last night, Yunjin, you vaguely remember her name, didn't help at all. You still can't fall asleep. It's late at night and you are lying in bed once more. Sleepless. Then, your doorbell rings. That must be your neighbor. Chaewon. After telling her about your insomnia, she said she might know aomething.

10.

Going to college is already hard enough, considering your background. Bad grades, devorced father, stepmother and stepsister and so on. The only reason you got in was because of your scholarship. You are not a good student. But a talented football player. And now everything becomes even more difficult. While trying to learn for your upcoming test, someone knocks on your door. Tzuyu, your stepsister. Her and her mom, Jihyo, seemed to have gotten into a huge fight once again. Can you cheer her up?

11.

The one thing you love most about your job is the fact that you see beautiful women pretty much every day. Being a photographer enables you to make them take any kind of pose in any kind of outfit. Of course, when you started your career, you never thought about it like this. Until you meet Im Yoona.