#brain always jumps to the worst conclusion

[ase-trollplays]

Me: Ugh, my stomach always feels like shit. It's probably the medication I started taking

My brain: OR!! Or. You have stomach cancer and are dying.

[joelletwo]

[The Final sugi dying kitten betrayal -> utsuro-gin fight -> sakura boat imagination -> completely tonally consistent with these ginpachi-sensei closer]

now listen. u know i would rather die than post five nearly-uninterrupted minutes of a fight scene. so take that into consideration.

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess,��dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Hopeful Love (Cato Hadley x reader)

Description: The arena was horrifying, but with Cato by your side - maybe you could make it through everything?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

A/N: you can read this even if I might write another part, as always all my writings do have a conclusive ending, no matter which part!

Warnings: death, blood, wounds, the typical hunger games stuff

7515 words

It felt like a fever dream - like it wasn’t really happening. The moment Aspasia had hugged you and the platform started moving, your heart was beating out of your chest, and not in a good way. The light was blinding for a moment and then you took in the arena. The biggest part of it was a forest and there was also a big grass portion where the cornucopia was located.

Your attention snapped back to the other tributes, some looked more than ready to finally kill and some looked like they wanted to kill themselves. The cornucopia was filled with things, less and less of them strewn around the farther they laid from it. They also seemed to be less useful the further one went from it.

And finally your brain kicked in a little, your eyes moving over the other tributes searching for Cato. He was exactly opposite to you, and his eyes were already locked onto you in determination. This was probably the worst possible distance for his plan (the one of you running towards him) and you were sure your chances of making it at the moment were like 30 percent or less. If you died hopefully it would be quick, but you would try to make it - for him.

You could see the countdown was already at 16 and you took a deep breath to ready yourself for the sprint, listening to the steady rhythm of the numbers going down. You were honestly curious how the people watching would take Cato trying to protect you - nobody knew anything about you two yet, how could they?

The countdown was getting lower and lower and you felt like you were about to throw up when it reached 3. You braced yourself to jump down from the platform. 2. You took a deep breath. 1. You really hoped you wouldn’t catch a knife to the back - and then you were running. It was like you were on autopilot, putting one foot in front of the other and towards Cato who was running even faster - considering he was way taller that made sense.

You were almost there, and you really thought you would make it - when suddenly someone tackled you from the right. In retrospect you should’ve been more aware of your surroundings, but what shocked you the most that on top of you and trying to grab you neck was Taron, your own district partner. You had no idea he hated you so much he made it his mission to kill you first. You tried to keep his hands off your throat, but when he finally got a good grip he was ripped off of you.

Cato was determined to keep you alive. Fuck, he had never run this fast in his life and when he almost reached you that son of a bitch from your district seriously tried to take you from him. Foolish. He ripped him off with ease, taking his head between his big hands and breaking his neck with a controlled snap of his hands. One person less.

He pulled you up immediately, taking your hand in his firmly and making his way towards the cornucopia. He picked up a long knife and a small one on the way, giving you the small one and ending every tribute that came near you two with the other. You knew his weapon of choice was a sword but you hadn’t been close enough to the cornucopia yet.

The other careers had already brought the cornucopia under their control, so once you arrived there, the other tributes were either dead or they already ran away. You were shocked that you had honestly made it, still kind of on edge by the way Clove, Marvel and Glimmer were eyeing you, but you knew as long as Cato stuck to your side you were relatively safe - as safe as one can be in the arena.

Cato pulled you into the cornucopia - the other three rummaging through the things in the entrance - and when you were at least a little shielded he pulled you into a bonecrushing hug. You could almost hear Caeser Flickerman commenting in your ear. „Cato“, you whispered, you were surprised he was willing to show this much emotion in front of the camera.

The tall career was honestly a little worried that his feelings for you would damage his hardened career image and offend the sponsors - but on the other hand he was in an arena fighting with others until death. So he didn’t really give a shit, he was just so incredibly happy that you were safe for now and he couldn’t control himself, he had to hold you close, even just for a moment.

When you mumbled his name, pressed against his chest, he gently kissed your forehead before hesitantly letting you go. Eventhough the bloodbath was over for now, you were still relatively out in the open right now and he needed to sort out the supplies and plan with the others. He drank in your pretty face for another moment and without words (he was never the biggest talker and especially not in a situation like that) he pulled you along to sort through the equipment.

—————————

You were quiet, now that the adrenaline was gone and all the death and killing that happened was sinking into your brain you had to concentrate on your breathing to not freak out. You knew Cato wasn’t affected by this nearly as much as you - he was trained for this after all. But the lifeless eyes of the other tributes, the ones that trained next to you for a week, haunted you. And when the canons went off after the bloodbath it felt final. You were really right in the middle of the hunger games.

The Careers were building a camp down by the river and the meadow and you were mindlessly carrying stuff from the cornucopia over there with Cato. The others were leaving you alone, but you knew that if it wasn’t for Cato you would be dead for sure. Two of the Careers - Glimmer and Marvel - were scouting the closest parts of the forest to find tributes who may have lingered around. You had one ally more, a boy who claimed he could dig up the mines from around the cornucopia and bury them around your food stash so it would be safe.

Once the others seemed satisfied with everything you sat down around the camp, Clove in one corner playing with her knives and facing the forest and you and Cato in the shade in the back, while Noah (that was the other tributes name) was still moving the mines. „How are you feeling?“, Cato was talking as quiet as possible, but it probably still would be picked up by the cameras.

He had just put down the last bag and sat down next to you, his eyes scanning your form, his hand reaching for yours gently. Crazy to think how he easily murdered multiple people a few hours ago and now the same hands were so soft with you. „I’m okay, don’t worry“, you gave him your best attempt at a smile, but he looked only partly convinced. How could you truly be okay though? The carefree nights on the rooftop seemed so far away.

Cato wanted to say more, but he didn’t want your private conversation to be broadcasted for everyone to hear, so he just nodded and pulled you into his side with one arm. He kissed your temple carefully, trying to convey his thoughts like that - and simultaneously fighting the urge to kiss you for real. He decided he would postpone that to when it was dark, and their was at least a minimal amount of privacy.

Suddenly Glimmer and Marcel broke out of the treeline, and with them was another person - still alive that is. They came closer and when your recognized the other tribute you sat up straight in surprise. „Peeta?“, you mumbled to yourself and you could feel Catos arm around you thighten. „What’s he doing here?“, Cato barked when they were close enough, standing up and pulling his sword out.

„Calm down lover boy“, Marvel rolled his eyes and walked over to Clove. „He‘s our best shot at finding the chick from his District“, Glimmer explained, picking up and apple from the bag and eating it. „Watch it District 12, one wrong move and it’s over“, Cato warned Peeta with a rough voice and gave him a dark stare before sitting down next to you again, a protective hand on your thigh. Peeta just nodded and they started planning the hunt for Katniss.

————————

Tracking through the dark forest that night, you felt like throwing up. This was all so wrong, Katniss had helped you - considering the weird circumstances she was probably your only friend(ly contact) next to Cato and you were walking through the woods trying to find and kill her. Not that you would be the one to do it, but you were with them, weren’t you? Cato held your hand tightly as if afraid something might happen if he let go for only a second.

And maybe it might, because his hand was literally the only thing stopping you from full on panicking and running away. What was the future perspective here anyway? Only one would leave this arena alive. The other three (except Peeta, who seemed just as unsure as you and Cato who was looking all serious) were joking around and having fun and it only made the whole situation more bizarre.

Suddenly Glimmer squeaked excitedly and when you followed her gaze, you could see a fire in the distance. „The fuck, who would be so stupid“, Marvel was cackling and you took a deep breath when you walked towards the fire, knowing what was to follow. The girl didn’t realize the group was there until Marvel was standing directly behind her, and her face was that of pure horror. You looked away, but the bloodcurling scream would never leave your memory. If Cato didn’t fall for you, this could’ve been you.

The canon went off and you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto Catos arm until he pulled you away from the scene. „Sorry“, you whispered and he just calmly squeezed your hand. You were glad he was calm enough for the both of you, always grounding you and protecting you.

After a few more hours and tips from Peeta, you gave up for the night and settled back down in your camp. Clove took first watch and Cato pulled you away to your private corner, settling down on the ground between a few boxes. He leaned against a heavy one and pulled you in between his legs - just like he did on the rooftop. It was dark here, a little bit of light filtering through form the fire, but you felt the tension leave you for the most part when you were tucked into his chest.

„You will be okay, I promise“, Cato whispered close to your ear and somehow that made you so emotional, made you feel like he understood your struggle with all of this without you having to say anything and you had to fight back tears for the first time since you had met him. „I love you“, you whispered back, not knowing what else to say and hoping it would be enough. You could feel him gently lift your chin towards him and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

———————

It had been two days since that night and the other Careers were obsessed with finding Katniss. You hadn’t had the chance to talk with Peeta yet, but you felt his eyes on you sometimes, making you wonder what it was he wanted. And when the others were arguing about which direction Katniss would most likely be in, Cato had stepped away from you for a second and Peeta seized the opportunity.

„So, you and Cato huh?“, he smiled and stepped next to you, „Katniss told me she already suspected something at training.“ You blushed a little at the thought of the other tributes talking about you two. „Yeah, Cato and me“, you smiled too, „and you and Katniss right? At least it seemed like it“. His smiled was fading a little, and you guessed he felt guilty for trying to help the Careers kill her, when he obviously had feelings for her. Her, you weren’t so sure if this was true.

„Yeah I guess the survival instincts kick in“, he lamely explained, but you guessed the underlying message was, that he wasn’t really helping the Careers, just biding his time until he could run off. You could understand that. „I guess“, you sighed, the look you two shared in understanding was interrupted by a mad looking Cato. „Piss off 12“, he growled and pulled you close by the waist, Peeta raised his hands in surrender and walked off with a small smile towards you.

„What did he want?“, Cato gruffly asked with furrowed eyebrows and squeezed your waist, his other hand on the handle of his sword. „Nothing“, you smiled and stood on your tiptoed to kiss his jaw, making him grumble but relent.

You set off on another hunt for Katniss, and had only walked a few minutes next to the river when suddenly Marvel discovered her in the water. Shit. She looked just as shocked as you probably did and if Cato wouldn’t have pulled you along you would have remained there. The Careers followed her through the woods and you were sure you had to witness her death now, when she climbed a tree.

Glimmer missed with her bow and they were getting agitated when Cloves eyes fell on you. „You’re small, can’t you climb up there?“, she grinned evilly and was probably hoping you would either get killed by Katniss or the fall down there. You were about to answer when Cato spoked up. „I’ll do it“, he grunted. „Cato, I can-", you started to say, he didn’t have to do everything for you, you were really starting to feel bad. „No“, he interrupted you without looking at you and laid down his equipment before starting to climb the tree.

You looked at him worriedly, he was way too heavy and tall to climb up a tree like that. And as if you called it, one branch broke and he fell, taking several other branches with him. „Cato! You okay?“, you kneeled next to him, but he just got up with a grunt and glared up a the tree, while you were checking him for injuries.

„Let’s just wait here, she has to come down at some point if she doesn’t want to starve“, Peeta suggested and unhappily the others agreed, climbing up was out of question now that Cato took all the usable branches with him.

———————

You had been laying awake in Catos arms for what felt like hours, your mind running through all the horrible things that had happened or will happen. The thought that Katniss sat up there right now, fearing for her life (just like probably everyone else in this arena) and you were part of the group that was the reason for that, made you sick. All the other deaths were bad, but you didn’t know them. Katniss? Katniss had been nice to you, showing you how to make fire and how to set up traps eventhough she didn’t owe you anything.

Silently sighing you looked up to the sky, the sun started to rise half an hour ago. The other thought that was bothering you, was that it was either you or Cato making it out alive. It wouldn’t be both of you. And considering your chances of survival without him, it would most likely be him. And he was so thickheaded, he would never leave you out of his sight voluntarily, meaning that in the end it would be either him that would have to kill you, or one of you had to sacrifice themselves.

And you sure as hell didn’t want him to die, and neither did you want him to live with your death on his consciousness. A silent tear escaped your eye when you accepted what you had to do. Now was the perfect opportunity to leave. He would be incredibly angry, but you would rather he be angry than either of you having to live with the guilt.

The others were sleeping around you, and you carefully peeled yourself out of Catos arms, sitting up next to him. He didn’t move, and you looked at him for a long moment, before softly kissing his cheek and standing up as quiet as possible. You made sure the others were still asleep and grabbed your small backpack (with your waterbottle, knives and some food) before silently walking towards the edge of the clearing. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking back one more time and you immediately regretted it.

Cato was awake and sitting up, looking at you with a scowl on his face and tense muscles. Your face fell and you went rigid for a second, before tears filled your eyes and you just gently shook your head, mouthing „I’m sorry“ before taking off. Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to see you, and he would most likely follow you now. You still had to try though.

Catos heart felt like it would jump out of his chest. What the hell were you doing? He sensed you were feeling guilty and overwhelmed but he didn’t think you would try to leave. Try being the main point here, because he sure as hell wouldn’t let you. When you mouthed you were sorry, something inside of him snapped and he jumped up as quietly as he could, grabbing his stuff and following you into the forest. He couldn’t do this without you, the only reason he even tried anymore was you.

Tears were running down your cheeks as you made your way through the thicket and you had to surpress a sob when you heard Cato following behind you. You were about ten meters infront of him, but you knew you could never outrun him, no chance. He let you get a little farther, probably to make sure you were far enough from the others, before closing in on you.

You had just made your way between a rock formation and you could hear a small stream nearby when he grabbed your upper arm and hauled you around, trapping you between his big body and the boulder behind you. „What the hell do you think you’re doing?“, he was visibly angry, but tried not you raise his voice and you refused to meet his gaze.

„Let me go Cato“, you whispered, and you meant it in more than the literal sense in that moment. It would be easier if he would forget about you. „Never! Do you hear me? (Y/N) I will never let you go“, he sounded almost desperate and his hands left your arms, one grabbing your waist tightly and the other cradling your jaw.

He hated how you were refusing to look at him, you were the only thing he fucking cared about anymore and you almost left him. You wanted him to let you go. „Why would you even say that? Without you I wouldn’t…I can’t even…“, he was so panicked at the thought of losing your he couldn’t find the words, but you finally met his eyes, „I love you so much baby, please don’t leave me I need you.“

Your heart almost broke for the man infront of you, and simultaneously you felt so much love for him at that moment. „Cato“, you were slightly overwhelmed and your hands softly cupped his cheeks in an attempt to calm him down, „it’s easier if I go, I don’t want it to come down to us two. Better I be killed by someone else isn’t it?“ Suddenly his lips were on yours, desperate and firm and you could only whimper and return it with as much passion. How could you ever think he wouldn’t have hunted you down, no matter how far you went?

Cato pulled back for air and the both of you were panting. „Don’t say that. Never…never say that“, he sounded liked he was in agony and you hated yourself for doing this to him. „But-“, you tried to reason with him. „Don’t“, he growled and pulled you impossibly closer kissing you again, and you sighed softly, thinking in the back of your mind what a great show you were giving the audience. But neither of you cared anymore.

Suddenly Cato flinched and let out a pained hiss, making your heartbeat rise in worry. He turned around quickly, shielding you with his body and then you could see the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Glimmer. „You’re betraying us already?“, the blonde called out from the top of the opposite boulder you two were leaning against, another arrow readied. Please, please don’t let him die.

Before any of you could react, there were suddenly screams coming from the direction of the other Careers and Cato seized the opportunity. He reached up quickly with his uninjured arm and because Glimmer was distracted he yanked her down roughly by her ankle. With a scream she came crashing down losing the grip on her bow and with a fast movement of his wrist the pretty girls trashing stopped and the canon went off.

„Come one we have to go“, Cato says, and you were still stunned by what just happened in the matter of a few seconds. Then the two of you were off, quickly running through the forest.

—————————

You and Cato had run through the forest as far as he could go with his arm, until you had singled out a really big oak, climbing up to see if you could settle there. The middle of the treetop was shaped like a small circular floor and after Cato managed to climb up the tree - which was way harder for him than for you - it was perfect for you two as a camp.

Cato looked really pale now, the arrow sticking out the front of his shoulder and you were so in over your head. „Shit, I think we have to pull it through love“, you said, your aunt was working as a nurse and a little bit seemed to have stuck with you. He just nodded, and you got out a shirt you had taken as a spare and ripped it in stripes, to immediately wrap his wound once you cleaned it.

„This is gonna hurt“, you softly stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes. You gave him an encouraging kiss and he chased your lips when you pulled away, before you took a deep breath and fought your inner restraints and carefully but quickly pulled the arrow through. He groaned in pain, throwing his head back and holding onto your hip so tightly you were sure it would bruise.

As soon as the arrow was out, you quickly took of his shirt, cleaned the wound with water - you didn’t have anything else on you - and wrapped it tightly with the ripped shirt. The bleeding wasn’t as profusely as you had anticipated, so that means there was probably no major artery hit. „Rest now, I think we’re safe here for now“, you kissed his sweaty cheek and helped him lay down comfortably with his backpack as a pillow.

You settled down next to him, and you thought he was asleep when he suddenly grasped your hand. „Don’t leave“, his voice was raspy and his eyes half closed, but he still looked scared you would try to leave again. „Never, I promise“, you leaned down and softly kissed his lips, „I’m sorry I tried to.“ He smiled a little and squeezed your hand. „I love you“, he whispered and then he was out like a light.

————————

It’s been days up in that tree, and Cato seemed to being doing worse and worse. You two had enough food and you went down to the stream nearby to fill up the water daily, but you didn’t have any adequate medication for his wound. And it was really infected, the edges a glowing red and everytime you cleaned it there came more pus out of it. Cato was sleeping most of the time and when he was awake he seemed mostly lucid and was worrying about you. Which was ironic, because he was the one who needed the worrying.

And worry you did. There wasn’t much you could do, and you hated it. „Here baby you need to drink“, you woke Cato up gently, and he was burning up. Before he could say anything, your evening was interrupted by an announcement from the Gamemakers.

„Attention tributes, attention. The regulations requiring a single victor have been suspended. For these games stand under the star of romance, the Capitol wants to give love a chance. From now on, four victors may be crowned, but only if they consist of two pairs of one male and one female tribute. This will be all announcements.“

You and Cato were silent for a moment, before his good hand gripped your hip where you were sitting next to him. „Fuck baby, that means we could both go home“, he rasped and you were still not registering what that meant, but let yourself be pulled down by him into a messy kiss. „That’s…that’s great“, you gave him your best smile, trying to hide your worries for now. How the hell were you supposed to get his wound to heal? Or the other option - even more unlikely - how were you supposed to win this for the both of you? Damn.

—————————

Cato got even worse over the next day and his breathing was labored. You had shed a few tears when he was unconscious, but tried to pull yourself together for him. But you were helpless, until there was another announcement.

„Attention, tributes, attention. Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you needs something desperately. And we plan to be generous hosts.“

Medicine. It had to be something that would heal Cato from the gaping wound in his shoulder. „You’re not going“, you didn’t even hear him wake up, but even this weak he sounded dominant. „Yes I will, you need medicine“, you almost rolled your eyes and he scowled at you, sitting up in great agony before you could stop him.

„What are you doing? Lay back down Cato!“, you exclaimed, moving closer but he swatted your hands away. „You will not go to the feast, you’d be dead in a heartbeat. Clove’s still out there, and so is Thresh, I won’t let you“, he grunted, pale and shivering. „Good thing I didn’t ask for your permission then“, you snapped, „you’ll be dead if I don’t go, and it’s only a matter of time that I die then, so no argument you’ll tell me will make me change my mind.“

Cato hated that you were so right. He was slipping in and out of consciousness the last days and to be honest he knew you were right. He just didn’t want to lose you, eventhough he had realized from the start that it would come to that point. But now there was a possibility for the both of you to go home and this stupid infected wound was fucking it all up. The thought of dying and leaving you alone in here, and the thought of you dying were equally painful.

„Fuck“, he cursed, the pain in his shoulder becoming to great to sit up anymore and he laid back down, „please just…let me hold you til sunrise then?“ Your face immediately softened and the now familiar tingling flared up in his stomach at your smile - despite his pain. „Of course baby“, you blushed a little, and he loved that eventhough you were in an arena fighting other people til death, he could make you flustered.

You laid down your head on his good shoulder and he turned onto his side a little, catching you offguard when he captured your lips in a ravishing kiss. „I wish we weren’t in here and I wish I wasn’t sick right now“, he growled in your ear when he pulled away, and you looked up at him shyly when you realized what he meant. „Me too“, you whispered, your hand stroking his cheek before kissing him gently.

————————

You decided against saying goodbye to Cato, he fell asleep all smiley and with several more kisses shared between you and if you died you wanted to leave him with that memory. Fuck, if you died that would’ve meant he died too, so you had to give it your all. You secured the bigger of your two knives in your belt and smaller in your hand and took a look back at the sleeping lover you would leave behind for now.

Then you made it down the tree and carefully tracked through the dark forest, way earlier than needed just to make sure you would make it in time. Once you reached the clearing the cornucopia was in, you settled down in a bush and alertly watched your surroundings.

It must have been over an hour, when the sun started to rise and after a few more minutes a table with five bags on it came out of the ground. Your eyes immediately zeroed in on the one with an eight on it, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You were about to move in - no use in waiting and have someone else snatch up your bag, plus you were fast so if you hurried that would be your best chance - when the redheaded tribute ran out of the cornucopia, snatched her bag and was off.

That was fucking smart, but it was now or never. So you pushed your legs up and ran as if your life depended on it. Because it did. From your left you could see someone else run as fast as you did, and getting closer to the table you recognized her as Katniss. Hopefully she wouldn’t hurt you, considering with the new rules all four of you could make it out alive - if she paired up with Peeta that was.

When you quickly grabbed the bag, the both of you locked eyes and it seemed a quick truce was communicated through that, because you both were on your way again. But then you saw her get a knife thrown at her by Clove. Fuck. You stopped in your tracks when she was tackled by the smaller girl and it looked like she was done for.

You had to help her, she had helped you before without even knowing you so you just had to do something. It was auf if you watched the scene from outside of your body, changing direction and running over to the fighting pair, grabbing your big knife and shoving it into Cloves throat. You pulled it out immediately and both you and Katniss were splattered with the girls blood, the adrenaline keeping you from thinking how horrified you should be at killing another person. That would have killed your in heartbeat if she had the chance.

Clove fell to the side clutching her leaking neck, gasping for air and then she was dead and the canon went off. Katniss got up immediately, picking up her bag and squeezing your shoulder gratefully. „Thanks“, she said and the both of you shared a nod and a smile, before taking of again.

————————

You couldn’t believe you actually survived this, let alone save Katniss. You were still running high on adrenaline when you climbed the tree where Cato was laying with a high fever and a badly infected wound. But now you could actually help him, you actually did it. You let yourself fall next to him, sitting on your knees and pulling out the contents of the bag.

There was a relatively big container in there, wrapped in a cloth, plus a small bottle. They were labeled with their use and so you set them aside, pulling Catos makeshift blanket off and unwrapping his nastily infected wound.

At that he awoke with a groan and looked at you unbelievingly. „You’re alive“, he rasped, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. His vision was slightly blurred but he could see you actually came back, back to him and you seemed safe. He was thanking whoever was up there that he didn’t lose you yet. „I need to put this on your wound baby“, you said, and he saw that you got the bag from the feast, medicine included. You were incredible.

He nodded, bracing himself for the pain that came with touching his wound, and you scooped up some of the paste before spreading it as careful as possible, using a good amount. He hissed at the initial touch, but after a few seconds the paste cooled down the burning sensation in his shoulder to a low pulsing and he sighed in relieve.

At the sight of the medicine helping already, tension you didn’t even realize was there fell off of you. „Need to do the back to“, you helped him roll onto his side slowly, before spreading the same generous amount on the back of his wound. You packed away the paste safely, before making him take the recommended amount of medicine from the bottle, that was supposed to help with the fever.

It made him extremely sleepy, but you instilled a little water into him, before laying next to him exhausted. It wasn’t dark, but the both of you needed the sleep badly. Hopefully he would feel a little better when you’d wake up.

—————————

When you next awoke you were wrapped tightly in strong arms and pressed to a chest. And you immediately took that as a good sign, that he felt good and strong enough to do that. Then you noticed the sun was rising again, so you had slept for most of the day yesterday.

You enjoyed the way he was holding you a little longer, even more relieved when you noticed his breathing was already stronger and steady again. When you couldn’t wait any longer, you carefully peeled yourself out of his arms to look at his wound. He grumbled unhappily and turned onto his back when you sat up, one hand on your hip and his eyes slowly opening.

„Hey“, his voice was gravely from lack of use and you smiled at him. „Hey“, your hand softly tracked his jawline, „can I take a look at your wound?“ He grinned a little and nodded, so you sat up on your knees and pulled aside the fabric that you had lightly wrapped around it yesterday and you gasped in shock. Positive shock.

„What is it?“, he asked, sitting up quickly, before looking down at his shoulder. „It’s almost gone“, you whispered and couldn’t quite believe that there was only a little bit of pink skin left from his previously gaping wound. When you checked the other side, it looked the same. „How does it feel though? Does it still hurt? Do you still feel sick?“, you worried that it was healing only superficially.

Cato loved the way you worried about him, only now that he felt healthy again was he really able to enjoy it. Fuck, you were so perfect, you risked your life to save him and if you weren’t televised right now he wouldn’t hold back. He was hard already just at the thought of what you had been doing on that rooftop on the last night.

„I’m alright, I feel perfectly fine“, he grinned and suddenly hauled you up and onto his lap with ease. He really seemed to be better. Your gasp was stifled by his lips and they felt warm and soft again, not clammy and cold. You could cry with how happy you felt. You two could make it out of here together.

When he pulled back, he looked you over for any injuries and almost had a heartattack when he saw you were covered in blood. „Why the hell are you covered in blood? Are you injured? Do you-“, you interrupted his panick quickly. „Calm down it’s not mine!“, you cupped his cheeks, your fingers trembling a little when your remembered how you killed Clove.

„How did it get onto you then? You okay?“, he took your hands in his, kissing your shaking fingers and waiting for your answer patiently. „It was…It’s Cloves. She was about to kill Katniss and I-“, your voice gave out and he pulled you closer in comfort. „Hey it’s alright“, he whispered stroking your back softly, the terror you were feeling shrinking a bit, „it will be okay, I promise.“ You just tucked your head into his neck and stayed there for a while.

————————

It has been two more days since then, and Cato was perfectly fine again. There had been a rainstorm and because of the thunder you must have missed the canon, because in the evening you saw that the redhead was dead. So only you and Cato, Katniss and Peeta and Thresh were left.

You and Cato and been walking through the forest, your camp in the tree packed and left behind, and you were searching for food because you were running low. But when suddenly in the middle of the day, the sky turned dark, you knew you wouldn’t need that anymore. The games would come to an end tonight.

„Seems like they want it to end it huh“, Cato gripped your hand tightly, he knew the gamemakers had planned something big if they changed the time of day. „Let’s go towards the meadow“, he suggested and you just nodded, squeezing his hand gently. You almost reached the edge of the forest when you heard it. It sounded like wolves, but more…domesticated. Not quite like dogs either. But it sent a shiver down you spine.

You both stopped to listen, and it seemed like the howls were getting closer. „We should-“, Cato was interrupted when Peeta and Katniss broke out of the thicket about ten meters away, running terribly fast and screaming at you. Run. So that’s exactly what you did, Cato held your hand so tight that the circulation would most likely be cut of but you didn’t care. You only concentrated on getting away from whatever seemed to be chasing you as fast as possible.

You didn’t dare look back, hearing the heavy sounds of paws behind you entirely too close for comfort even if they were a little bit away still. You ran out of the forest and over the meadow, following the other two towards the cornucopia. That seemed like a solid idea.

Cato thought about picking you up so he could run faster, but when he realized you would probably be safe on top of the cornucopia he decided against it. You could make it like that. He heard what were probably mutants pant behind you and howl angrily, and when you finally reached the cornucopia, you had passed Katniss and Peeta a little and Cato immediately took your waist and hauled you up.

Youwere unceremoniously dumped on the cornucopia and were once again awed by Catos strength. He pulled himself up with ease, Katniss right next to him, who started to pull up Peeta. But it seemed like they were a millisecond too slow, because one of the creatures grabbed Peetas leg. „Peeta!“, Katniss screeched and you were thankful Cato immediately jumped into action, grabbing Peetas other arm and ripping him out of the monsters hold.

The four of you stood on top of the cornucopia, panting and gasping for air when you had a chance to look at the creatures for the first time. And you almost got sick at the sight. They were huge mutant dogs, growling and jumping up the side of the cornucopia. But the worst were their faces. They were distinctly human, but not quite. The gamemakers were fucking sick.

Before you could think about anything else, a strong arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you back roughly. With a gasp, you gazed up towards your attacker. Thresh. He was bleeding profusely, and it seemed liked the creatures got him good before they ran after Katniss and Peeta.

The others looked at you in shock, Katniss had an arrow pointed at him and Cato seemed like he wanted to murder and rip apart the tribute holding you with his bare hands. Peeta was limping an balancing on his good leg, looking as helpless as you felt.

„Let her go“, Cato barked at the nearly equally tall man, and your hands grasped the arm wrapped around your throat. „Ha, fuck you! And you don’t even need to try Katniss, if I fall, she falls too“, Thresh seemed to know his situation was hopeless, „fuck all of you! You four get to go home and have a nice life? How’s that fair? Why do you deserve that? I would have deserved that too, Rue would have deserved that, all of us would have!“ He wasn’t only speaking to you, he was looking at the sky and seemingly addressed the Capitol.

Katniss flinched a little when Rue was mentioned. „How about I snap your pretty little neck hm?“, he cackled and you were frozen in fear, „that’s what they want right? Drama, death and betrayal!“

„You don’t have to give them what they want“, you whispered, the other three still rooted in their spots, „you don’t have to be who they want you to be. If you don’t let them, they can’t take that from you.“

Thresh laughed, and then it turned into a sob. Suddenly, he let you go, pushing you forward roughly and Cato caught you in a tight grasp. You turned around just in time to see him raise three fingers to his tearstained face, holding them to his mouth and raising them into the air, before falling backwards and into the pack of monsters on the ground. And then he was screaming, before Katniss went forward and put him out of his misery with an arrow.

Then she raised her hand in the same gesture as he did, Peeta following suit and then you and Cato did too.

———————

You four had waited there for an hour, the pack was long gone and you knew you won the games. But there wasn’t anything happening, which worried you tremendously. When the sun started to rise, you decided to climb down and as soon as your feet hit the ground, the gamemakers spoke up.

„Attention, attention tributes. There has been a slight rule change. The previous revision allowing for four victors has been revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck. And may the odds be ever in your favor.“

The four of you stood in silence for a few moments, looking utterly defeated. „They have to have a victor“, you whispered, scared for what might happen now, because Katniss was still holding her bow and Catos grip on his sword was so thight his knuckles were white. Only you and Peeta looked at eachother with surrender.

„No“, Katniss said, throwing her bow down and pulling something out of her jacket. Nightlock berries. You recognized them from back home and from training. If you’d eat them you’d be dead before they reached your stomach. And you suspected what her idea was.

„We don’t have to give them a winner, why should we“, she locked eyes with you, and you nodded, looking up at Cato who was watching your reaction. He seemed to know what they were too. He held out his hand just like you. Fuck them. None of you would be happy if you went out of here a victor. Let the last thing you ever did be a big defiance against the Captiol.

„Together?“, Peeta asked Katniss, and Cato couldn’t help himself and pulled you in for one last kiss. He hated that you were going to die - he didn’t care about himself - but he knew you wouldn’t back down. And going together with the woman he loved seemed like a good way to go. And giving the gamemakers a big fuck you felt reassuring too.

Cato let you go and the four of you looked at eachother one last time, your hand tightly laced in Catos, and then Katniss gave a small nod. „One“, Peeta said, and you and Cato moved closer. „Two“, you whispered and looked into his blue eyes, memorizing the way he always made you feel. „Three“, Katniss said and you raised the berries to your mouth, ready to die, when you were interrupted.

„STOP! Stop! Ladies and Gentleman may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.“ Cato pulled you into his embrace immediately.

—————————

So this was part 2! And yes I know all four winning is as unrealistic as it might get, but I didn’t want to kill Katniss or Peeta and if I want to write another part, I need the normal revolution storyline. What do you think? Do you want another part?

I just tagged everyone asking for a part 2, I hope that’s alright it’s y’all!

@xplrcolbyy @riverlikethelake @l0stinth3nightsky @lisedanie @mysticdaisy21 @n1ght5h4d3-24 @inparanormal @hannahnikohl @worshiptheduck

[yurinaa-world]

hello!! platonic dr ratio with a teen!student reader who excels at one particular subject but is bad or average on the others? also lacks social skills

(kinda inspired by me lol 💀)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dr. Ratio platonic! x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with student reader who excels at one subject but is bad at the others + lacks social skills

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff and spelling mistakes, got lil personal

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜

He’s so strict about your grades, looking at you with disappointment as if a parent would when their child an F. What? does the information just go through and out one ear? (it does for me 😀)  Can your brain handle one sentence at a time since it doesn’t look like it to him with these embarrassing grades?

He immediately got you into summer school so you could at least try to get good at other subjects, one subject won’t get you a future. Even worse with fact you can’t even talk without staring endlessly at your paper contemplating just to ask him the most simple question.

The man knows no mercy, making you write out several essays over the whole summer but just like every teacher that wants to suck the souls from students he’ll make you plan every tad bit of detail, even refuse you from starting to write if one detail isn’t explained and well thought out enough for him.

Then oh don’t forget to make the rough draft of the essay (it’s more like writing the real essay itself with the way he’s being strict with every typo & grammar mistake, but oh don’t think you're going to get this using simple and basic words like “in conclusion.” or “well, I believe.” Throw those out the window along with every other basic sentence that people use to put up the word count or just get the whole thing over with. He isn't accepting it. No exceptions.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Blank.

You’ve been staring at the next part of your sentence but unsure how to use the word “Magnanimity”. How were you even supposed to use this in a sentence?! (he made you pick several high-level words to use in an essay), you look up to silently curse your teacher, Mr. Ratio out in your head before immediately looking back down when your eyes connect.

You begin to contemplate, that maybe jumping out the window ain’t bad, it might be your only way to get out of here. you sigh, just giving up on your constant stalling, getting up from your chair (with your paper in hand) and walking over to your teacher, dreading every step you take.

Before stopping at his desk, “Mr. Ratio, could you tell me what the definition is for magnanimity again?” He just sighs, closing up the book he always reads. (You don’t know why he always reads the same thing, it’s so boring.)

“Magnanimity means the loftiness of spirit enabling one to bear trouble calmly, to disdain meanness and pettiness, and to display a noble generosity.”

you stare at him blankly, he wasn’t kidding, he seriously expected you to know what he was saying?! “I’m sorry but what does that even mean?” you whisper your voice cracking with frustration, you just feel a blood vessel getting bigger.

He sighs once again “Showing kindness towards an enemy or you had been defeated in battle. using it in a sentence would be like he showed magnanimity towards his enemy, understand?” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you Mr. Ratio” You nod taking in his words. “Let me see your essay.” He tells you out of the blue, holding his hand out to see your paper, which makes your mouth dry. “you have something written, correct? Let me see it.”

You give him your paper and watch in nervousness before he begins to read out loud “A great man once spoke mighty wor-“ “Mr ratio please read it in your head!”  you cut him off with panic, yet what a fool you are since when was he merciful? “a great man once spoke mighty words…”

Listening to him read your essay made you cringe and close your ears. He’s the worst!

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[genderqueerdykes]

I think when you say cis men people think of like Kyle from math class who has never shown interest in being a woman and has been a cis dude his whole life and not transfems with multiple identities

exactly, you are correct in summing it up! that's why i'm asking why they think that in the first place. why is that the assumption people make? why do they automatically assume the worst? why do they catastrophize? why is that where their brain jumps to? why is invalidating transfeminine issues seen as no big deal? why is willingly ignoring the existence of transfeminine women who are also men the first thing people jump to? why is there a knee jerk reaction? why is there instant repulsion? that's why i'm asking people to question themselves and why they jump to this conclusion, because it's not helping anyone.

no queer will ever help another queer, ever, by assuming the worst. it's obvious this is what people are doing, but that doesn't make it right. we have to challenge this mentality every single time it comes up. think about it- jumping to the concept of "evil cishet men invading pure lesbian community" is in fact an inherently transmisogynstic line of thinking. no matter what. even if people are making the assumption it's 100% cishet men "invading" the community, they are doing the exact same thing as rad fems. whether or not people are doing it consciously or unconsciously doesn't matter. this will always be instantly transmisogynstic no matter what someone's thinking on the inside. it's a needless, knee-jerk reaction. it's castrophizing.

no one should assume anything when it comes to queer identities. you hit the nail on the head which is why we must aggressively force people to question why they think this in the first place, why their FIRST inclination is to instantly silent and shit on transfeminine people- because Kyle from math class could also be a transfeminine person. no matter what someone's intention in adopting this mindset is, it's still inherently transphobic, and lesbophobic, for that matter. i know you're not saying you agree with this, but i have to point out that no matter Why someone is doing this in their own mind, it doesn't make it not transmisogynstic.

[poppadom0912]

Holding On Sequel

Warnings: Mentions of guns, injuries, hospitals, angst

Summary: Recovery from the worst night of the Halstead's lives seems impossible.

A/N: Wrote this randomly when I remembered receiving several comments wanting a part two and after much deliberation on the plot, this is what I came up with. I'm not a medical professional, everything mentioned is all from google. Please enjoy the ending of this as there won't be a third part to what was supposed to be a oneshot ;)

*****

Things were never the same following the night of the accident.

Jay and Will found themselves at your beside for however long they were permitted to. During his shifts, at his breaks and whenever he found time, Will found himself in your room watching your coma ridden self and Jay would always call and text for updates, every other minute out of work spent in the hospital.

The surgery had been a success, no one ever doubted it when Connor took charge, but it was the aftermath that had gone downhill.

Cerebral hypoxia caused from the severe blood loss and haemorrhaging, causing damage to your brain, the extent of damage which even Abrams struggled to determine as long as you remained unconscious.

The coma lasted for such a long period of time that Abrams was hesitant in keeping your life support machine on.

Jay had a tiny bit of a go at the man for suggesting such a thing, Will attempting to hold him back from doing anything brash.

So Abrams took a step back for another week and the next time, Charles approached the brothers instead. His ever so gentle and understanding voice with his soft eyes causing them to crumble.

It seemed that everyone had come to a collective conclusion, tonight when both their shifts were over, they'd say their last messages and goodbyes before Abrams would pull the plug.

That day, like clockwork, Will took his lunch break too eat his sandwich at your side, talking and telling you everything and anything like he always did. Eventually, someone would always join him for moral support or for some company, either or, today it being April who also was on her break.

As Will combed his fingers through your knotted and greasy hair, their was a sudden spike in your heart monitor causing his fingers to abruptly pull at a tough knot, his own heart thundering, head snapping up to look at the machine in question.

Both doctor and nurse sat in silence, staring at the machine with sharp eyes, ready for any other fluctuations.

A higher pitched beep went off two minutes later, Will choking out a breathy laugh at the moment he believed was never going to come.

Struggling to formulate any thoughts, he turned back to look at you, his eyes softening paired with watery smile.

"it's okay Y/N." He swallowed harshly, barely listening to April calling for Abrams as the heart monitor continued to go off.

"Take as much time as you need."

*****

"Hey, you all finished?

Jay appeared out of nowhere, walking towards you with his keys in hand very casually like he hadn't just scared the living hell out of you.

"Yeah, almost. I just have to mark these last few questions and then we can go home." You said, gesturing to the test papers in front of you on your desk.

Jay hummed, perching himself on the tables that you forbid your kids from sitting on where he sat whistling till you were done.

Around fifteen minutes later, you were done. All your things were now back in their shelves and drawers, your bag packed as your announced you could leave now.

Jumping off the table, Jay rounded the desk and took hold of the wheelchair handles, pushing you out of the classroom, pausing so you could lock the door behind you.

This was your new norm.

Two months post waking up from your coma and, you were thriving as much as you could adjusting to this new lifestyle.

Only two weeks ago were you able to get back to work, spending all your time in and out of rehab and physical therapy, the latter of which you still attended.

The Cerebral Hypoxia affected your ability to speak and walk, the former which was fixed within a month of rehab but the latter...

Well, you were in a wheelchair for a reason.

To cater to such a sudden change in lifestyle, both Will and Jay took their turns in helping, acting as carers of sorts especially in the beginning of your recovery.

Their shared efforts leading to your current living situation - the three of you living together in a completely new place that had wheelchair accessibility that you were able to afford combining three salaries.

Even now, there were still some things that you hadn't become accustomed to such as: wheeling yourself everywhere, relying on others for small tasks like laundry and the sympathy from the entire world.

You would never get used to the stares you continued to receive at school from the children.

"Will get's off in a hour, he's asking about takeout." Jay said, cutting you off from your train of thought as you reminisced on your current recovery.

"Our usual Chinese place is good for me." You said, watching as he typed something into his phone, most likely texting Will your words. "I'm really craving their duck."

"Perfect." He mumbled, turning his phone off as he started the car to drive home.

It took a very long time to work out how to get you and the wheelchair both in and out of the car but after much trial and error and eventually help from your physical therapist, it all worked out.

Will and Jay were changed men after you woke up from the coma. They were, if even possible, more protective of you than before to a point where the line between overprotective and overbearing was extremely thin.

But all three of you had to learn and adjust, making mistakes and sacrifices necessary in making this recovery and new lifestyle work.

You wished you could turn back time and change things, going back to that fateful night where you could change what you did.

Thinking back to it now, you would've been smarter, used some common sense and put your card some place sensible, maybe walk faster to the station instead of pausing in the middle of a dark street nowhere near the main road or civilisation.

But alas, no matter the regret, it was all in the past now, as your therapist said, dwelling on it won't change the present.

All you could do is what was in your control which currently consisted on focusing on your physio to try and get your legs to improve even somewhat, try to enjoy being coddled by your older brothers like you were all kids again and continue to teach the children who never failed to make you feel better.

While you were well into the recovery process, there was still much progress to be made and in an ideal world, by the end of it all, you'd be back to normal and stable on your own two feet. A life where everyone could go back to their lives, Will and Jay being allowed to live their lives independently without having to help you get into the shower or bed.

For now though, all you had to do was focus on yourself, taking small baby steps to try and get back to being you again.

"For fucks sake- Will forgot the prawn crackers!"

With these morons at your side, being you was easier than ever.

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 10

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out. Like why are you even here leave. Hurt/comfort, morning sex, fingering, unprotected sex, fluff, and more fluff. Older man younger woman, P in V, possesivness, slight sub/dom if you squint. Tiny pinch of angst and drama.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.Thank you for your patience her is the latest chapter so much love to everyone reading.

His head is on your chest, your fingers running through the jet black hair, his arms around you. Your mind wanders as you trace symbols on his skin. The pang of sadness knowing that he will be gone again, knowing that even if the next three weeks go well, he will be going back to LA. The thought scratches at your mind, a pang of anxiety making you want to throw things. Life was a cruel and uncaring mistress. 

You feel Walton shift, you relax your body so he can lie beside you. His hazel eyes catch yours, you shift so you're both facing each other. Blankets half tossed over, pillows crumpled and folded into something comfortable. 

“I can hear your brain running,” Walton says his hand going to run down your ribs onto your side. 

“It’s nothing,” You lie, the last thing you wanted was to spoil the night.

His hand comes up and tucks hair behind your ears, “You are many things, but a good liar is not one of them.”

You sigh and roll to look up at the glowing stars above you. “I don’t know how to feel about the end of filming.”

“Hmm?” He asks, hand resting over your side, warm and comforting.

“I know you’ll have to go back to LA, and I am going to be here.” You gesture at the tiny space, if things went well maybe you could find a nicer spot, but it still would mean you were alone. 

Walton sits up so he can look at you, the man appreciates eye contact, as you try not to look at him. 

“Who says I am going to be leaving you?’ He queries, hand rubbing up and down your sides. 

You turn to him rubbing at your lip, “You live there, I live here. That’s your whole life.”

He wiggles closer to you, “And so you decided that I would just leave you here without asking me?”

“I-” You stop for a second, you had been so lost in your head the last few days that you had failed to ask him what he wanted. The brief conversation in the kitchen about the two of you being in a relationship tricked through your brain. “I guess. I’ve jumped to conclusions.” 

Walton nods, large hands sitting possesively on your hip. “Yes, you have. I know you probably thought the worst the last few days. But I am here now, and I don’t plan on leaving you here when filming finishes.”

You take a breath, the mixed feeling making you feel dizzy, “So you’re going to whisk me away?” The words leave your mouth and you immediately wish you could take them back.

Walton’s hand grips into the flesh of your hips, possessively moving you closer to him. Eyes locked on yours, “You don’t need whisking away. You’re a grown woman, who is stubborn and has fought hard to be where you are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have someone who cares for you.”

Your heart aches at his words, all of them ringing true. You had fought hard, you had done everything in your power over the last decade to try and secure a spot in this world, to try and make it in the industry. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t lonely. It was very lonely, and friendships were closer to acquaintances. Him being in your apartment, wanting to be here with you, caring about you as much as you did about him. It felt. It felt amazing, the walls you had so carefully crafted around you didn’t need to be there with him. You could be you, and he seemed to feel the same way.  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If you want to do long distance, we will do that, you want your own place in LA, done. But I want you. When I said I didn’t take relationships lightly I meant that. This isn’t a fling to me.” Walton said his voice soft but firm. 

You nod your head, “I don’t know what I want. When I didn’t hear from you it hurt. I’ve never hurt like that over anyone. It was awful, and as soon as I saw you today. I just didn’t want to let go. My brain is a mess, and maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the fact it’s midnight.” You feel flustered, the man made your brain feel like mush. He leans over and kisses you, lips gently pressing against yours. 

“I find midnight to be often when the best conversations are had.” He whispers, hand massaging at your hips. “I never stopped thinking about you, all the questions, interviews, photos, I just couldn’t wait to be back here.”

You hum softly, “I will go wherever you want to go,” You speak it out like a small promise, “I don’t know how, can that even be worked? I’ve never tried to work anywhere but here. Could I even get a place in LA?” 

He chuckles kissing you quietly, “If you’ll let me, I will figure it out for you. I’ve got a little experience in that department. You should come down with me next weekend. It’s a long weekend here and it would be good for you to see the city. See if you like there.”

“Oh, Umm,” You feel slightly flustered by how eager he was to take you to LA, “Are you sure?

Walton nods, his hand coming up to run over your cheek, “If you want to, I want you to want to.” 

You lean forward kissing him softly, he pulls you close and you snuggle into his side. He is warm, your fingers playing along his collarbone. “As long as I am with you.” You giggle slightly, “Maybe I am needy,”

Walton lets out a snort, “You are just figuring that out now?”

Giggling some more, “It’s all your fault. I was a perfectly capable woman before you. Now I am clingy and needy.” 

He lets out a laugh at that, turning to tickle along your sides. You squeal, trying to move away and tickle him back. He grabs your hands pining them above your head as he continues the assault, finishing by blowing a raspberry on your stomach. 

“Stop-” You wiggle trying to get yourself free but he is much stronger than you. Huffing as he finally relents coming in to kiss you again. Feeling yourself shiver as he keeps kissing you, how he held you completely still with one hand. That was something new, and you definitely wanted to try more of it. 

He leans back from kissing you, and your face must be red, breath speeded up as you licked at your swollen lips. “You like that,” His hand squeezed around your wrists, and you swallowed and nodded your head at the question.  

He grins, kissing you again before letting go of your wrists, “We will explore that later, for now, this old man needs rest.”

You chuckle and cuddle close, he throws the blankets around you, a hand coming to hold you against him. The warmth and comfort of having him beside you has you drifting off to sleep. 

***

Your alarm is ringing, you try to find it but something is in the way. You try to move but you’re wrapped tight. Groaning you open your eyes, hands around your chest makes your heart rate spike. Trying to remember how you got here. 

“It’s just me,” Walton mumbles against your neck, and you sag at his sleepy voice. Reality slowly slips in as your brain starts to wake up. You were safe, the memories of last night coming in in pieces. 

“Can you get the alarm,” You murmur, voice raspy and dry. Noting a good glass of water couldn't fix. 

One hand leaves you and the sound of the alarm ceases. You relax against him, letting out a sigh. You're so warm and slightly uncomfortable. Your left arm was pined and you have lost feeling in your fingers. Trying to wiggle to get some room, feeling his body press against yours. He moves back and you roll over to face him, his eyes are still closed. Looking relaxed as he lays beside you. One eye opens to look at you. 

“Good morning,” He mumbles, the arm that’s still under you dragging you beside him. 

You snuggle in, the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. You are very thankful you remembered to pre-set the machine last night.  “Good morning, to you too. I hate to ruin the afterglow but I got to get up.”

He grumbles and pulls you tighter against him. “Nah-uh” His lips kiss any skin they find. You wiggle against his side as he kisses down you neck.

“Wwaallttoonn,” You squeak, “We got to go.” But he is holding onto you, you know if you really put up a fuss he’d let go, but if you’re honest you’d rather be here than at work. 

He blows a raspberry against your neck and you are struggling harder now to try and get away. Laughter pulling out of you from the tickling sensation. His hands tickle under your armpit and you try to get him to stop, screeching and grabbing at his hands to know avail. He grins as he stops, that smile always made you melt a little. 

“I need breakfast,” He grumbles, hand cupping your ass. You squeak as his hand lifts your thigh over his hip. How the hell he could move you so easily was something else. 

You gasp as his fingers leisurely went up and down your folds. “Oh, you ass,” You squeak as he continues what should be classified as torture. Parting you he rubs against your clit, making it ache, still tender from the previous evening’s fun. You grind down onto his hand, his cock hardening against your thigh. His fingers slipping up and down as you feel yourself get wet. He was way to good at that. Your head rolling slightly at the sensation, just putty in his hands. 

“Always so wet,” He moans into your ear as his fingers work in and out of you.  

Whining you rocking against him, your mind melting as he stretches you. His fingers leave and you don’t even have a chance to complain before he slides in.

“Fuck that feels good,” You whine moving your body closer as you fall into a rhythm. Your fingers dig into his back as you rut against him. He easily has you on your back, pushing your legs up as his hips move faster.His fingers spreading you open as he works at your clit, that now familiar pull coming from your center. He knows exactly how to wind you up, the hitch of your breath as you squeeze around him. Making his fingers falter as his cock gets squeezed, but he doesn’t ease up, mouth hushing you. Walton isn’t far behind, he slides out to release on your stomach, fingers replacing where he had been. He works his fingers with the same rhythm he works his cock, as he helps you over the edge. Until he’s bitting into his lips hot ropes splashing onto your stomach.

You groan laying there a sweaty damn mess, as he flops beside you, chest raising up and down as you both come down. He grins and kisses you softly. Your phone’s alarm goes off again. Walton groans and slaps at it until it turns off. 

“That’s one way to wake up,” You laugh, your hands running over his chest.

“Mmhmm,” He mumbles, eyes partially closed as he kisses your cheek. You both take a moment to just enjoy the post-orgasm bliss before getting up.

***

The door bursts open and Trevor’s face is beet red. You had been cleaning up, looking forward to the end of the day. Shooting had gone way over after one of the other actors had had a minor breakdown. Now Trevor was here shoving his phone in your face. 

“What-what” You glare at him, taking the phone and looking at the screen. The blood drains out of your face as you see several photos of you and Walton. One even is of the two of you kissing outside his apartment. “Oh my god,” 

“They just published these an hour ago,” Trevor said his hands taping against the counter. 

“Where- how- That’s my damn apartment.” You squeak, scrolling through what was an internet gossip rag. “This is all bullshit, I am not his personal assistant. Where are they get this info from.”

Trevor is pacing back and forth. “I don’t know, but clearly someone has been following you both.”

You hit the bottom of the website and wonder what world you’d woken up into. The trailer door opens again, and Liz is there now. Your heart falls, she looks beyond upset. Her own phone clenched in her hand. 

“Don’t even start Liz,” Trevor has put himself between the two of you. As much as you appreciate the gesture you were perfectly fine handling the woman.

“You got some nerve,” Liz growled, “I had already warned you to steer clear of him.”

You look between the two co-workers not entirely sure what to say. Why would she need to steer clear of Walton? This smelt like more than just professionalism the woman looked jealous. Why the hell was she jealous, the door banged again and you watched Walton come in. Fake blood still covering his clothes. 

“She’s got some nerve?” Walton is standing in the doorway, as always you were the last to know. How was everyone so on top of this?

Liz’s face goes bright red seeing the actor standing there. “She is in my department, I will handle the situation to my best judgment.”

“Actually, no you will not,” Walton said his voice low and commanding. “You’ve been nothing but snippy with her, the relationship we have is no one's business. Pictures posted on the internet or not.”

“It’s unprofessional,” The woman mocks, and you can see the man stiffen with the words. You were honestly surprised at the whole situation. You had never pegged Liz as someone who would have been interested in Walton. Then again everyone was interested in him. 

“There is nothing unprofessional about having relationships with co-workers.” Walton replies, “We are two grown adults. Professionalism be damn. If it was anyone else you would not have cared Elizabeth.”

You watch as Liz’s eyes dart anywhere but at Walton. The confirmation that there definitely had been a thing there, a thing that wasn't reciprocated. The way he used her full name made it all the more real, this was why she had been such a bitch to you from the beginning. Trevor had caught your eye, his eyebrows raised. 

“I am not sure what you’re implying Mr. Goggins. But I am surely not the only one tired of you both being a distraction.” Liz hissed, you wanted to hide under the counter if only to stop yourself from jumping on her. Accusing them of causing a distraction, when she was the one storming into trailers. 

Walton let out a short laugh, “You and I both know what I am talking about. Your jealousy is noted and not appreciated. I figured you were pasted that, but clearly not.”

The whole room is thick with tension, as the two of them stare each other down. You want to leave or say something but your mouth is dry. The thought that Liz’s anger was directed at you because of your relationship with Walton was childish. It was something that would have happened in high school. Here she was spouting off about being professional when she had treated you like dirt. Even tried to turn others on you, and threaten your relationship with other departments. 

“We have less than four weeks left,” You finally say, “Then you will never see me again,”

Liz looked you up and down a sneer still on her face, “Oh don’t worry sweety, you will never-”

“Do not threaten her,” Walton stated, the way his voice was more of a growl made you tingle. “They are empty threats and you know it. Everyone knows about your attitude, and the fact you are only still around cause you’re in bed with every PM in town.” 

Liz’s mouth snapped closed, “That was uncalled for,” For a moment she looked a bit hurt. “Best of luck to both of you. See your boyfriend has your back at least,” 

The woman gloured at you, her face twisted as if she had walked in dog shit. 

You let out a sigh, you were so over this,  “Boyfriend or not your actions speak volumes. I’ve kept my personal life private, and all you’ve done is feed the rumor mill. No one else has said a word or confronted me about it. Production, clearly, doesn’t care or they would have said something. So that’s that, I wish you well Liz.”

You get up and walk out, even if it means never walking back into the trailer. Liz could have it, all the bullshit, all the rumors, it all didn’t matter. Your peace was more important, your happiness was more important. Warm fingers are lacing with yours, you turn to see Walton beside you. You stop between the different trailers and just look at him. His usually bright hazel eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, a small grin across his lips. You lean and kiss him, something quick but gentle. 

“Hey,” He whispers, forehead leaning against yours. 

“Thank you for standing up for me,” You whisper back.

He shrugs a bit, the sun is coming through the clouds dancing across both of you. “She should have let it go a long time ago.”

“I had no idea,” You sigh straightening up. “Then again who wouldn’t want a piece of you.” 

Walton lets out a hearty laugh, “Not sure I would agree. I have my eyes only on you.”

You smile leaning in to kiss him again, you honestly couldn’t care who saw now. “How often do you think my face will end up on the internet.”

“Depends on how many times they catch us,” He grins against your lips. 

Chapter Eleven

**So I have two options. Option one we leave it here I feel like this isn't a horrible way to end things*

**Option two I continue to dive more into their stable relationship, get into some kinky stuff maybe, and probably get some angst in there. I have a vaguely written outline but there is definitely room to continue this.**

Please let me know :)

[milkywayes]

dreamt a cipher

a shepard/garrus post-destroy ending longfic.

[AO3 link]

I’ve debated a while about when to start posting this. Now it’s the new year, and I’ve been working on Cipher for over a year and a half, and I’ve waited long enough to start sharing it with you all. I’ve decided it’s finally time to start uploading while I work on the final chapters.

I started writing this before I ever drew a single piece of fanart for Mass Effect. It’s all the things that were bouncing around in my head after choosing the destroy ending with a mostly-paragon Shepard—consequence and responsibility and self-recrimination; her relationship with Garrus and with herself; their ties to each other and how much weight they can bear; their differing perspectives and how they slot together—all that fun stuff—compressed into a story, a place, a narrative. 

I believe in the power of love, and I promise a happy ending. They’ve just been taking the long way to get there. Feel free to yell at me in the meantime.

A huge thank you to @callista-curations for her meticulous and invaluable beta work, and to @that-wildwolf and @gammaraydeath for being the best hypemen I could ask for!

A more detailed list of warnings can be found on AO3.

I've posted the full cover art here.

────

Summary:

Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Rating: M (subject to change) Important Tags: post-destroy ending - angst with a happy ending - slow burn (of sorts) - arguing - reconciliation - survivor guilt - minor original characters Her own personal Noverian peak. That’s what it was supposed to be. Nothing but the discovery: no distractions, no comfort, no windows looking out—no familiar faces. But it's starting to look like her winning streak might have ended in that pile of Citadel rubble, if it ever extended that far to begin with. ──── “How does the Earth idiom go? No use beating a dead—” A long-suffering sigh. “What was it again?” “A dead horse. And yet, you’re here. Beating it.” Pot, kettle. She wishes he’d just fucking say it.

-> AO3.

Read the start of Chapter 1: Constant Velocity under the cut!

────

The overhead lights flicker as they always do when the data screens are up and running. It’s not something one gets used to, even so. It stings at her ocular nerves—or something like that, anyway, somewhere along the delicate wires that extend from her eyeballs into her brain—but her focus on the data doesn’t waver.

“In that case,” says Shepard, squinting against the ache, “what we need is salvage from a relay outside the immediate burst zone. Four jumps away. Five, if possible. There’s no point to any of this if we can’t scrape together a control group.”

She glances back at Elsawy, who so far hasn’t made it more than a meter into the room. She nods without looking up from her omni-tool; orange shimmers off her shiny, black hair, giving her the uncomfortable air of a Cerberus operative. Not the worst comparison, except that Miranda would waste no time letting her know if her logic took a faulty turn somewhere. Elsawy’s just as likely to agree now and write a message detailing all her crap conclusions later.

Leaning her hip against the conference table, Shepard shifts her weight off her left leg, bites down on the sigh that almost manages to slip out. Once in the clear, she grouses, “Where the hell is Meyer? He’s the one that called this meeting.”

As it is, it’s three people in attendance and she’s the only one talking. She could’ve achieved the same results with a voice call from her quarters, where she could elevate her leg in peace and without witnesses. In the dark.

“Lab Two,” answers Elsawy, finally ripping her attention off the omni-screen and gracing Shepard with a second of eye contact. Maybe in another life she could appreciate the effort—Jesus, as if she hasn’t had her fill of lives already. “We’re close to a breakthrough on the initial output patterns. Sorry. He’s been feeding his data to me.”

“Right.” She blinks once, twice, in time with the flickering. It doesn’t help; it never does. “I’ll swing by later, then. Anything else he asked you to relay?” 

“Just that, Commander.” Elsawy is mumbling just enough that her voice has to compete with the drone of the air vents. The translator takes a second to filter out and amplify it. The result is less than perfect: “More salvage—” bzzrt—“bigger picture, you got it.” She narrows her eyes, and Shepard raises a brow. “Left leg or—” bzz!—“left hip?”

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

“Commander.”

“It’s nothing relevant,” she says pleasantly, forcing herself to stand up straight again. There’s a brief tremor shaking up her hamstrings; she waves a hand to distract from it. In the frenzy of the lights, the movement looks jerky, nervous. She soldiers on. “Old field injury. Unrelated. Anything can set it off.”

Funny, kind of, since it’s that very leg that ends in the most perfect, cooperative example of a foot she’s ever had the pleasure of treading on. It’s cloned; a replacement. Not the only one either. They should’ve just done away with the whole limb, but she hadn’t been consulted. Same with her trick shoulder. Not even Cerberus had managed to get that one back on the straight and narrow.

“I’d rather you bring it up with the doctor,” replies Elsawy. This is, apparently, what it takes for her to finally speak at a reasonable volume. “If we manage to fill even one of the data gaps…”

“I know,” she says. “I know, and I’m telling you, it’s unrelated.”

-> continue reading on AO3

[obey-me-headquarters]

Can I request your example requests?

Sure! I did my "most to lease likely to fall into subspace" as I had trouble coming up with ideas for the others ones:

Most to least likely to randomly fall into Subspace:

(Most)

- Satan: the most subby guy in the cast. Satan is used to dealing with frequent mood swings so it's not hard for him to suddenly fall into subspace. Sometimes so much as ruffling his hair will send him into subspace. He will suddenly fall into subspace in the library and crawl into your lap looking for kisses, and everyone in the library will have to look away and pretend that the Avatar of Wrath isn't mewling and squirming in the exchange student's lap, or else Satan will fly into a rage and rip them apart.

- Mammon: this boy is so down bad for you. Sometimes all it takes is a look from you in public and he's fallen. He tries his best not to suddenly fall in public, as he doesn't want to lose his Street Cred (what street cred Mammon?) But you can always tell when he accidentally drops as he's unusually quiet and clings to your arm.

- Levi: he's kinda in his head a lot. He jumps to conclusions. So one look from you can send him spiraling. But this also means that he can have trouble falling into subspace as his mind is buzzing with a million other different thoughts.

- Beel: doesn't fall unless you make it clear that you're trying to dom him, so looks and subtle show of power wouldn't make him fall. Usually. He can get pretty needy though, and when he's needy he kinda falls into semi subspace without you and begins looking for you to fully put him under. This is adorable to you but terrifying to everyone else as Beel gets extremely quiet when he semi falls and his resting bitch face comes into full force. People think he's one tummy rumble from going on a rampage. It's even worst when they do offer him food and he refuses because he's too focused on finding you.

- Asmo: He may be very sexual, but actually getting him to be vulnerable and submit - not just offer to suck you off/eat you out - is something that takes him a moment to settle into. He's used to being an active player, even when he was subbing with other people there was some brain power used to make sure that the other person was having a good time. Actually falling completely into subspace and letting you handle everything is something he needs to adjust to.

- Belphie: ah, this brat. He makes you work for everything, doesn't he? He's not putting himself into shit, if you want him to fall into subspace you're going to have to do it yourself.

- Lucifer: it takes a moment for Lucifer to be vulnerable. To shut off his bran and stop worrying about his paperwork, or what his brothers are doing, and to swallow his pride and let himself submit. Sometimes it takes you all night to lower him into subspace, but sometimes all you have to do is pet his hair and give him a soft look and he'll melt right away.

(Least)

[hikaruchen]

WIP Wednesday!

As before, thank you @lord-aldhelm for tagging me! Sending kisses x

Just started writing an one-shot fic for my blorbos, hope I manage to finish this one lol. Here’s one part of it:

It became more frequently that he found himself sitting beside the firewoods with extinguished embers atop, lost into the abyss of his own irksome thoughts in the middle of the night. Darkness spread wide across the land, it was only then that he noticed how quiet the nature could be when none of the living things were disturbing its peace, and how loudly his mind could function during those lonesome nights. Thoughts jumping all around yet could not be woven into a conclusion, as grasping something meaningful out of them was already hard enough. Even brains of men like Alfred couldn’t last a long day’s hard working, it seemed. He would sit there for hours, exhausted, staring beyond the horizon like a strayer in the dark, waiting the lights would come to find him. And Uhtred always found him under the guide of moonlight. At first none of them spoke anything. No one asked about the reason why the other was awake, nor did they question what made them sit next to each other insomnolent while all creatures on earth should be asleep. Silence occupied them and these lands, the only thing he could hear was Uhtred’s breath. Calm and steady, like the rhymes in those poems he adored to recite when alone in his library. And it felt distasteful to admit, of course, but in between the breathes lay…safety. Safety that he hadn’t felt for long, so long, that it even allowed drowsiness to gnaw his conscious bit by bit and eventually led him to drift into sleep. O, how much you rely on this pagan, Alfred. Not only in the waking hours but the sleepless nights?

I basically just described my insomnia lol, except good for alf for having an Uhtred.

& Sleep normally, people! Don’t stay up til 5 and find yourself losing sleep right after it. That is the worst.

-

✨Pics ✨

Again working on commissions :)

And some smutty smutty things going on for our favorite medieval gays that made me have to change the content label for this post. (Edit: I changed my mind. I will post normally for now but if it got banned, then you know the label will be changing into the adult only one lol) I will not elaborate.

⚠️NSFW below

(No, that’s not german national flag in the background. It looks weird and that will be changed I promise lmao)

[somesecretpie]

I've been receiving a lot of asks in my inbox that I don't want to answer because they are essentially the same and I don't wanna flood my tumble with repeat messages. So this is kind of going to be a "general answering my asks."

1.) To all the folks that told me that they liked my OCD comic and that it helped them in some way, thank you so much. I read your message and it made me very happy. I love all of you, stay strong and good luck!

2.) To all the folks asking me whether or not they have OCD and giving me a detailed list of their symptoms, I am not a mental health professional. I cannot diagnose you with any mental health condition over the internet from a little blurb of information. I would be essentially responding the same thing to each one: visit the IOCDF website for information about OCD. Try checking out this page in particular for a list of mental health conditions commonly mistaken for OCD/that share symptoms with OCD. And if you are struggling, seek professional help or talk to a counselor if you are able to. And generally, be careful with self-diagnosis. I am not against well researched self-diagnosis on principal and I think it can be very useful (especially to people that don't have a lot of money) but fear can definitely cause you to jump to conclusions (usually the worst conclusions.) I've self-diagnosed myself with brain tumors, stomach cancer, and a whole lot of other things with little evidence but my own fear. When you read these informational pages, try to do it with a clear mind. And refrain from reading them over and over. Just once or twice. Alright? Alright.

I did answer one of these asks because it seemed a bit severe and I actually did think I could say something useful that wasn't on the IOCDF website but I am not going to answer the other ones. I hope you understand.

3.) To all the folks asking me if their fictional character they have made with OCD is accurate and/or problematic and giving me detailed descriptions of them or asking permission to write a character with OCD: Lol. Lmao.

Okay but really: I appreciate your questions and want to give you a nice pat on the head for trying to write accurately about a condition that is so widely misunderstood. Sincerely, thank you. But once again, I'm gonna just refer you to the IOCDF website for more information on OCD. Because I don't want to fill up my tumblr with a bunch of these. Hope you understand.

Generally though…all of your characters seem …just fine? Yeah they all seem fine. If you feel like need permission to write a character with OCD, you have my permission. Here you go. I am handing you a pass.

The bar for writing OCD characters is so low. It’s underground. If you know what OCD even is, you’re already doing better than most writers. I guess if I can give you one peice of advice: don’t write the OCD as some kind of superpower. It doesn’t give people super detective skills or make people good at math. There is literally nothing positive about it. Characters with OCD can be badass and awesome of course, but not because of their OCD.

If you really want my specific opinion about your blorbo, you can always message me rather than sending me an anon ask. I promise I will not think you are cringe and I might even answer if I am bored.

Have a nice day!

[jessefandomunited]

Stuck together part two

This is a Daniel atlas X reader . I try my best to put no names or y/n , gendered language or anything of that nature so that people to project themselves onto the reader as much as possible .

Setting is you're new to the horsemen you are the new escape artist of the group and for some reason Atlas is just always knit picking your parts of the performance to the point where you barely talk to him outside of practice, what is his deal!? But when you two are stuck together after a show gone wrong you may in fact figure out he has a soft side to his control freak ways

Miles passes and I noticed Atlas was getting more anxious. I didn't want to be the one to break the silence but he was freaking me out ," what is it?" He jumped slightly at my voice I think he completely forgot I was even there . " were ... out of gas," he said pointing vaguely at the gage . I looked around us and saw just empty roads . " FUCK," I hissed pinching the bridge of my nose ," well what now ." The engine was beginning to cough and sputter when Atlas said ," I don't ...hey is that a motel?" Relief washed over me as I saw the glowing neon "Vacancy " sign flashing . " perfect we can call the guys to pick us up here tomorrow," I sighed in relief. They could pick us up tonight but since everyone was out looking for us we all needed to lay low.

We got out of the car and grabbed out small bags which had our phones, a change of clothes , cash , and some granola bars, the bare necessities. The place looked dirty but enough for a place to lay over for the night. I strolled into the front office and smiled at the sweet old lady behind the counter, " hey me and my friend were passing through and he's about to fall asleep behind the wheel so we just needed a place to sleep for a night." She looked at us and nodded ," yes we do have a room open, only one though I apologize we got so darn busy out of no where ." I smiled and said ," isn't that how it always goes, I'm sure it'll be just what we need ." She nods and tells me the price while pressing some buttons on a dinosaur of a computer. I go for my money but Atlas places it on the counter first , like it was a competition or something. " oh perfect here are your keys , room 22," she said handing us a old brass key , this place really needed to get with the times. We nodded and I said a light thank you as we made our way to the room.

This place felt straight out of a horror movie but I was honestly getting so tired I didn't care if I did get murdered. Of course Atlas had the key and was already unlocking the door when I trudged up beside him. He had to jump against the door to get it to open and when he did he fell inside which made me laugh. " ooof rough time buddy," I said stepping over him to get into the room. The moment I did, my laughing stopped. The room was way smaller than I thought it would be. It seemed like a very sketchy looking bathroom but the issue at hand, one bed. I froze as the realization dawned on me what was going to happen. I knew neither me nor Atlas would sleep on the floor and even though this place looked sketchy it would be even worse sleeping in the car. " what are you... oh," Atlas said coming to the same conclusion as me as he got to his feet. We did the slightly glance at eachother before I headed to the bathroom as he locked the door.

I showered trying not to think about what I was going to have to do. It wasn't just the idea of sharing a bed with Atlas that was an issue, my issue was every night after something stressful happens I have the worst nightmares I toss and turn all night it sucks, and almost getting caught by the FBI, yeah that counted. I pleaded with my brain to just sleep tonight as I climbed out of the shower. After drying off I put on my more comfortable outfit to sleep in . I walked out and Atlas had put a pillow wall in the middle of the bed and was already either sleeping or pretending to sleep I didn't know which. I honestly didn't care I turned off my light and climbed in . As I tried to get comfortable Atlas said ," can you relax I'm trying to sleep. " I gridded my teeth and sharply turned from the pillow wall and closed my eyes, pleading once again that I'd sleep through the night.

[anisespice]

“ so what? ” || tokyo rev. pt. 3

                            “ boy, I know you miss me, so what? ”

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] 

synopsis: he wanted to be a two-timer; you got his ass back, times two. 

pairing: college!mitsuya x gn!reader

word count: 1,742 

warnings: mature language, cheating, a little ooc(?) bc ik this stylish single father would NEVER.

notes: this one was the longest compared to the other two whew. it seems that mitzy had my creative juices flowing, as he should. unfortunately, had to make him a scrub lol 

Manipulate, Mansplain, MITSUYA.

You weren’t sure what made you want to surprise him at the art building. Maybe it’s because it was on the way when you left the library, or the fact that you hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks due to finals. Hell, it might’ve been both. But one thing was for certain, when you trotted down the long hallway and made a hard left, your boyfriend wasn’t the only one in for a surprise.

Coming to a halt at the studio entrance you instantly saw him and went to call his name, but noticed he wasn’t alone. Students normally used the space after class hours, with permission from the professor, to spend a little extra time on their individual pieces—Mitsuya being one of them. Sometimes, he’d even be the only one left. Well, imagine your confusion when you see your darling boyfriend conversing with the one person he supposedly couldn’t stand being around, without getting the urge to sew his ears shut. His phrasing, not yours.

Now, that’s not to say he couldn’t be cordial, no matter whatever creative differences there may be. Your boyfriend was always polite and according to him, this person wasn’t. Yet, as you watched them from afar one can’t help but notice they seemed to be getting along just fine for people who apparently never do. Again, his words.

So what’s changed?, you wondered. It had only been two weeks.

“Would’ya mind handing me that fabric over there?” Mitsuya pointed, the person responding with a grin.

“You got it.”

You disappeared around the corner before either of them spotted you. A little perplexed, you didn’t know if you should leave and act like you were never there, or stick around. It’s not like they’re doing anything wrong. Perhaps, you were just overthinking things. Everyone’s allowed to change their opinions about a person they might’ve misjudged, plus it’s been a minute since you’ve talked…maybe in that time Mitsuya developed a friendly relationship with his rival.

Yeah, that sounds right.

“So, uh…Have you thought about what we discussed the other night?”

A question mark formed at the top of your head; the other night? They’d been hanging out together? You stretched your ear to get a better listen, but stayed behind the corner in fear of being seen. Mitsuya heavily sighed.

“Yeah. I have thought about it...”

Silence filled the air, aside from the occasional murmur from the other students still around. You wracked your brain to understand the context behind the sudden change in the atmosphere, picking up on the tension even from behind a wall. You heard the person sigh as well, “But?”

“…It’s complicated.” Mitsuya said.

They scoffed, “Complicated? Really? You can’t keep avoiding this forever, they’re gonna find out eventually-”

“Will you keep your voice down?” he hissed. Your eyes widened a fraction, he sounded so worked up. You tried to keep from jumping to any conclusions, there had to be an explanation for this. You don’t even know if it’s you they’re talking about.

Yeah, that sounds right.

“Relax, it’s not like they’re here. What’s the matter, afraid [_____]’s already on to you or something?” The person said, Mitsuya no doubt shaking his head in response.

Well. So much for the benefit of the doubt. Your palms began to sweat as you gnawed on your lower lip. You didn’t want to assume the worst, but…he wasn't exactly making it easy—Especially not with the next few things he revealed.

“They’re not. I made sure of it.”

“Oh, right, because you told them you couldn’t stand me and how I made you wanna ‘sew your ears shut’. Mhm, yeah, exactly how much longer d’you think they’ll buy that, huh?”

“They’ve been buying it for the whole semester. What’s a little longer gonna hurt?” He chuckled, sardonically.

You couldn’t believe your ears, thoughts moving a million miles an hour, your entire perception had been completely knocked off its axis; they don’t hate each other. More importantly, they never did.

“Takashi. I don’t want to keep sharing you with someone else. It was fun sneaking around for a while, but I want us to be the real deal. Either you tell [_____] the truth…or I will.”

This wasn’t happening. This cannot be happening. Nearly half a year spent with someone who was never fully yours, and the entire time it was with the very person he told you he despised…you could just vomit. How in the fresh hell did you end up entangled in this whole ‘enemies-to-lovers’ schtick? The fact that it went on for this long was bad enough, nothing could’ve possibly made this worse.

“Oh, hi [_____]. Here to see Mitsuya?”

You felt your heart plummet to your ass. Nearly jumping out of your skin, your gaze met one of the student’s as they left the classroom—Yuzuha, you think her name was. From around the corner, you heard the sound of literal pins hit the floor. It was uncomfortably quiet, aside from the various other students who had no idea of the storm brewing just outside the door; what you’d give to be blissfully unaware like them. At least you would’ve felt a lot better compared to now.

Yuzuha raised a brow, concerned. She placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay? Y’look like you’re gonna explode…”

Before you could even fathom a response, Mitsuya came out of the classroom himself. He tried to mask his panic, but you could see it written all over his face. Your soon-to-be-ex gulped, expression straining into faux delight as he slipped into his role of the doting boyfriend. Clearly he wasn’t sure how much you had heard, playing it safe just in case he was still in the clear.

Bastard. You wanted to rip his head clean off.

“Babe! What a surprise, uh, what are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were dropping by.” His voice trembled ever so slightly, you almost missed it. It was impressive how dedicated he was to the charade, you’d applaud him if you weren’t so busy planning his funeral in your head.

And unfortunately for him, Yuzuha brought the coffin.

“Since when does your s/o need a reason to see you?” she asked, Mitsuya instantly sweat-dropped.

“No, that’s-!…That’s not what I meant. We’ve both just been swamped with finals, and I don’t like them traveling alone on this side of campus when it’s late, that’s all. Usually they’d let me know so I’d meet them halfway…” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. Come to think of it, he even did it whenever he talked about…

Oh.

In that moment of realization, all you could do was laugh. So much so, that you had to use the wall behind you to keep you standing. The duo surrounding you watched in puzzlement, slightly put off by your sudden switch. Then, to add insult to injury, the person your boyfriend ‘hated’ came around the corner, curiosity getting the best of them.

“What’s going on?” They feigned innocence.

That sent you into full blown hysterics as you slid down the wall, your tears mirroring the action as they fell down your face until you eventually hit the ground; you began to sob. Everyone else in the classroom finally grew silent themselves, all trailing out and peeking their heads around the corner to watch the drama unfold.

“[_____]? [_]-[____]!” Mitusya called out to you in alarm, swiftly crouching down to your level. It wasn’t long before he noticed your tears, thinking you were having a nervous breakdown over stress, or something. Had it crossed it mind that he was the cause? You couldn’t tell. And frankly, you didn’t care.

Even after you confronted him later, and he still tried to convince you that you had it all wrong, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your boyfriend had been cheating on you with someone you never would’ve suspected because he made it so that you were none the wiser, and everything about your relationship had been a lie. What else was there to say?

That was a year ago.

The next time you crossed paths, he’d been hanging with his friends. Used to be your friends as well, but you’ve found yourself running with a different crowd nowadays. He noticed you first, and you noticed his side piece was nowhere in sight. The yearning behind his stare paired with a smile full of regret told you a story—One that clearly didn’t have a happy ending. A small part of you pitied the designer, but the rest of you pointed and laughed. He tried to have his cake and eat it, too; not your fault he dropped the whole damn thing.

When Mitsuya waved, to his surprise you waved back...until he realized too late that you weren’t waving at him. His friends suddenly grew mute, immediately putting him on edge. It didn’t dawn on him until the approaching shadows in his peripheral swaggered passed him as to why that was.

“Mitsuya.” Ran greeted, oily grin thrown over his shoulder as he barely acknowledged the fashion major. The other one wasn’t too far behind, sporting a bored expression until he grinned as well, mockingly. Mitsuya scowled, his friends also expressing their distaste with threats and jeers thrown at the brothers’ backs.

Rindou merely scoffed, shaking his head. “What a fucking joke.”

Mitsuya watched in horror as you smiled at those scumbags. He couldn’t believe his eyes, how could you involve yourself with the likes of them? The designer abruptly stood—He had to say something, anything to get you out of their sights.

But when they each wrapped an arm around you, Ran on your left and Rindou on your right, he choked on his words. No. No.

You knew about the everlasting feud between his gang and the Haitanis, one might call it poetic justice that you rebounded with not one, but both of them. As you threw Mitsuya a smug grin, and watched him fail to pretend he was disinterested as you’re whisked away by two people he had genuine hatred for, you could only think of one thing.

He pretended for a whole semester. What’s a little longer gonna hurt?

© 2022-2023 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Ugh all the Evermore/Midnights/Joever discourse this morning has been excellent and set my brain on fire and I love discussing all the themes and motifs etc. In her music!

The Evermore marriage stuff is really sitting with me today. I know the music is only a glimpse into a moment and isn’t an eyewitness account of facts but rather an exploration of feelings etc. But to be parasocial for a minute, it just really is fascinating how the topic of marriage/commitment is referenced almost giddily on Lover (I’d marry you with paper rings/the bridge of Lover/Wedding imagery in It’s Nice to Have A Friend).

Then on folklore, it’s like shit finally gets serious: one single thread of gold tied me to you (I have stated numerous times how much I’m obsessed with that line and implications), I want to give you my wild and a child, but is it enough if I could never give you peace? It’s like on Lover, the idea is exciting and new (ahem like when us plebes get engaged, not that I’m saying that’s what happened to them), then folklore a year later is when realizations set in when you’re starting to actually plan for that life. It’s no longer a hypothetical “one day” when that day is barreling towards you at a breakneck pace. She’s overjoyed by the idea of getting married on Lover, but understands on folklore that wedding =/= marriage/commitment, that there are very serious, very real implications in the act, and they’re also very scary. She wants to build a family with this person, but the implications of what that life will entail for them both are overwhelming. This is what I want, but is it fair of me to do so? (Obviously, the answer we believed at the time was, yes, because presumably her partner wanted it, too.)

Evermore like many of you pointed out paints marriage/commitment significantly darker, even under the guise of fictional characters. Marriage traps the protagonist in Ivy, it kills Este in No Body, No Crime, it scares the protagonist and breaks the heart of the subject in Champagne Problems, it crushes the spirit of the narrator of Tolerate It and Happiness, it’s elusive for the characters in Tis The Damn Season… It almost feels like she’s playing out the worst case scenarios of the fears from Peace through these songs. Am I going to get hurt? Am I going to hurt someone else? Are we falling into a trap of our own making? Are we bound to destroying each other like so many of those who came before us?

Obviously there’s no way to know how much of this was based on diaristic elements vs. what truly was inspired by the movies, shows and books she was consuming as she said at the time. However, to jump on the parasocial train for a minute, it then makes me wonder… If the question on Folklore was, is it enough if I could never give you peace? The characters in Evermore seem to indicate, no, it actually may not, and these are the different reasons why. Was it because she was scared from her own past experiences? (E.g. her previous relationships, her parents’ divorce, her best friend going through a divorce at that very moment, etc.) Or was her partner now giving her reason to doubt the commitment she so happily declared in Lover coming to pass?

Of course, with Renegade coming out the following year, it seems like there’s another piece of the puzzle in the commitment/marriage motifs: Are you really going to talk about timing in times like these? Is it your anxiety that’s stopping you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to? That’s a lot more damning. (In the sense of, painting the picture. Not damning in terms of judging people with struggles, just being clear!) She’s been working through her own fears and concerns through Folklore and Evermore and the conclusion she seems to have drawn is, yes, it’s still worth it, but now it seems perhaps her partner isn’t. The “or do you just not want to?” Always gave me pause, because it’s a moment of brutal honesty, wondering if her partner just isn’t ready, or doesn’t want to be, full stop. It’s clear that she’s ready for the next step (e.g. “is it insensitive of me to tell you to get your shit together so I can love you?”), but he appears to not be.

So it seems that at some point post-Lover but particularly post-Folklore, something has given her reason to feel anxious about marriage and what it entails. It could be her own experiences absolutely, but the lines in Renegade imply a little, er, direct input in the matter as well. She wasn’t the first renegade to need somebody (and get help), and now she’s holding her hand out to her partner to help him do the same so they can move forward on the plans they’ve been building since Lover. But the song leaves the resolution up in the air.

Then by the time we get to Midnights, the topic has a lot more shades of grey. There’s the obvious “All they keep asking me is if I’m going to be your bride/The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife,” in Lavender Haze, and to this day I still don’t think she’s rejecting the concept of marriage with that, but what she is saying is that it’s a sore point because she’s sick of being reduced to her marital status in the media. At the time, I assumed the frustration over the marital status was because (rightly) it’s infruriating for women to always be reduced to who they are married to and the children they produce, especially one as singularly successful on her own as Taylor is. Now, we can also assume with the benefit of hindsight (and Tree’s takedown of DeuxMoi) that it was also a very sore subject for her on a personal level, perhaps because it was looking more likely that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s bride anytime soon. Then You’re Losing Me later spells it out, that marriage was on the table, but seems like it was almost weaponized. I still think her spitting out “I wouldn’t marry me either,” isn’t coming from a place of self-loathing or insecurity, but an argument used against her about their future plans. It’s scathing and devastating in how it targets one of her deepest hurts, calling back right to how the album opened.

If I had to guess based on the albums, the trajectory of the topic goes I can’t wait to marry you -> The closer we get to it the more scared I am that I may destroy this -> Is this going to destroy us? -> Actually you may be the one destroying us.

(It does seem like there’s an obvious shift between folklore and evermore, and not to get too dark, but like many of you I wonder if the success of Folklore precipitated the fears and anxieties and hurt she sings about on Evermore, iykwim. Which becomes abundantly clear by Midnights.)

I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I’m just feeling soooooo tingly about how these themes are going to be explored on TTPD, because I almost can’t see how they won’t be given what a big part of her life it was for years. I know she doesn’t owe us anything but… Taylor, we just want to talk.

[taylortruther]

not to be too parasocial but...the denial playlist is giving very much 'it is nothing now, but it was everything then'.

sure, maybe taylor is beyond the point of acceptance and obviously has moved on from that part of her life, but she definitely had to revisit it repeatedly whilst making this album and the playlists. thats the thing, when you reopen a wound after a long time, you have a better understanding of it. but it still hurts.

ig that's pretty much it ; taylor realises she was screwed over, wasted a lot of time etc. let's say she's even angry about it. she categorises those phases of her life based on how she feels bout them NOW rather than how she did then.

she has healed ; she's indifferent at best and disgruntled about letting herself be wronged at worst. that utter lack of positive feelings about that time in her life compels her to overlook the positive aspects of those songs.

its always been "all's well that ends well" for her, and that one didn't end well at all. so, she applies the opposite logic on it - it must have always been bad.

memories of intense periods in our life often tend to decieve us and twist the true version of events - omitting important info and planting fake ones. it might make us think that everything was black and white, either complete bliss or pure agony. but it was neither, and that's why those songs were conceived in the first place. that's why she struggled so hard to salvage the relationship. that's why it hurts.

"i can't make it go away by making you a villain" but our brains tend to subconsciously dilute the details of such moments, sparing us the heartbreak or atleast make it easier to digest.

taylor feels right now that those songs were written in moments of delusion and perhaps she's right, but what's more likely is that it WAS good once upon a time. she just wants to forget it, and that's okay. it's her songs at the end of the day.

its always been "all's well that ends well" for her, and that one didn't end well at all. so, she applies the opposite logic on it - it must have always been bad.

with respect, anon, this feels like too big of a big conclusion to jump to. we haven't heard the album, we don't know the full story, and she's probably going to be processing it/her feelings about it for a long time. (or maybe she won't!) they could change tomorrow, next year, 10 years from now.

idk how to articulate why this is rubbing me the wrong way, sorry. this is giving when joever first happened and my feelings were getting hurt the way people talked about relationships and breakups and the shaming and the "she should've KNOWN" of it all.