#ooc this is pure pain why do i do this to myself

[pair-a-new-shoes]

I COME BACK AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE HELL GUYS

i am such a hopeless romantic emphasis on hopeless

[unhappy-last-resort]

Run Run Run (Yandere Sylus X GN Reader)

Warnings: Chase scene, is probably ooc

A/N: I know nothing about this man, just saw him on the feed and he gave me a brain worm which I cannot allow to stay.

My shoes skid across the wet gravel, struggling to find traction as my palms hit the ground and pull me forward. Each breath burns in my lungs as I keep my eyes trained forward. All I gotta do is weave through these alleyways and into the main shopping center and I'll be safe.

Even with the wind rushing past my ears, heart pounding in my chest so loudly I think anyone could hear it, and the loud crunch of my shoes on gravel, I can still hear him behind me, each sound of his dress shoes hitting the ground like a countdown to an invisible clock. I managed to put some distance between us, but not by much. If I just run a little harder, maybe I can lose him.

I can see my first turn coming up just ahead, I gotta make sure that I don't slip. Just as I'm about to turn the corner, I spot a small dry patch of gravel and plant my foot on it as I pivot, launching myself forward and down into yet another dark alleyway, my muscles screaming at me to stop. I'm almost there, as long I just keep going, I can make it out of this!

Just breath in, out, in, out, in, out. Steady breathes, steady feet, I can do this, I will make it home! Another turn, I grab onto a water spout on the corner to keep me from slipping, just two more turns! I push to run faster as I hear a cackle behind me.

“Go on, little rabbit! Keep running!” I can hear the grin in his voice, the pure joy in his voice. If only I hadn't stuck around in that hotel to see what was going on. Damn it, why didn't I wait before calling the police! Then I wouldn't be stuck in this stupid fucking situation.

I sniffle and blink my growing tears away, I can't cry, not yet, I have to run! Another turn, I feel the sole of my shoe lose grip for a moment and for a second I feel every fiber of being come alive as a fresh feeling of panic surges in my veins, time slowing down as it feels like I'm watching myself through a window and I can hear steady footsteps approach from behind like a drum getting louder and louder with each step. The white hair, the blood red eyes. For a moment I imagine him turning into a demon, wings sprouting behind his back, knees cracking backwards into hooves, a big, toothy grin filled with pointed teeth and yellowed eyeballs filled with malicious glee at having found its new human to torture and feast on-

My shoe catches friction and I keep running. I have to make it, I have to make it, I have to make it. Just one more, just one more, just one more. I chant it in my head over and over, probably a hundred times within a minute. There it is! The last turn! I just gotta run through there and then I'll be surrounded by people and safe-

My heart drops as I see the puddle around it. My soul sinking into the ground with it.

No! I can't lose hope! I just gotta keep going, keep running, and be mindful. That's it! As I approach the turn at a breakneck speed, I feel part of myself reeling, waiting for the moment that I slip and fall. The second I do, the second I mess up even once, it's over for me.

My foot hits the puddle, water soaking through the material of my sneakers and wetting my socks and my heel digs into the mud. I can see it, the lights, the people, the stores, the cars. It feels like seeing heaven for the first time, but I'm not at heaven yet. My other foot hits the gravel and I can feel a new feeling take over my veins. Hope.

The end of nightmare is just a few steps away, just a few more. I've reached to where the light touches the walls beside me, it's gold and pink, giving a new sense of warmth to cold, blue alley. I stretch out my hand, tears stinging my eyes as I reach to grab the light and-

A feather?

The breath is knocked out of my lungs as I hit the ground with a thud. Small, stabbing little pains shoot throughout my back and press on my skull. My vision is blurry, but I can make out a shadow above me.

“I gotta admit,” The voice, it echoes in my head and turns into an internal mockery of my failure. “That was getting tough. Unfortunately, for you...”

He leans down toward me and his eyes glow red. Red, red, red.

“I have some questions I'd like to ask.”

[mm-lurking]

MAY I REQUEST FOR ANGST POOKS 😘😝 MYBE ABT BRINGING UP THEIR DEAD EX BY ACCIDENT DURING AN ARGUEMENT? THERES RARELY ANY ANGST IM GETTING MAD 👹

I saw your ask at 11 pm and something about the way you wrote your request made me giggle so hard idk why 🤣 Since you demand angst I shall give it to you. You’re my first ask btw so thank you very much! 

I’m not sure which character you wanted me to write for so I’m going to go for Blade and Aventurine. Though feel free to send me specific characters through the ask again!

Warnings: no fluff at all, pure angst, fem! reader and ex, reader has no chill running her mouth, Aventurine’s kinda feels ooc sorry about that WC: 1881

Blade

You were a hair’s breadth away from being gravely injured. If it weren’t for Blade’s interruption you would have been Antimatter Legion dinner tonight. In your eyes you weren’t in that much danger, you knew you could handle it on your own but in Blade’s eyes, it was just another flashback to how he lost her. It felt frustrating to watch him downplay your capabilities, it's not like you were some weak damsel in distress. There was a reason your relations with the Stellaron Hunters had lasted as far as it had; you were good at wielding your weapon and making good use of the enemy’s weaknesses. Sure there were moments when you were in trouble but you never really got to live the thrill of it because Blade would always step in to help you even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You loved him dearly and appreciated his assistance but just for this instance, you wanted to deal with things by yourself. Ultimately your agitation got the best of you and so now here you were with your arms crossed, glaring at Blade after the enemy was taken care of.

“Have you always been this foolish?”

You stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, questioning his audacity of insulting you like this.

“Excuse me?”

“You could have gotten hurt.”

He says matter-of-factly and you feel your jaws clench at the way he speaks to you.

“Blade I am fully capable of looking after myself! I need you to stop interrupting my fights!”

“If I didn’t that Antimatter Legion pawn would have sliced your head off your shoulders.”

“And how the hell do you know that was going to happen?! I could have fought it easily if it weren’t for you!”

He turns around and looks at you with cold eyes which make you flinch momentarily.

“You overestimate yourself.”

“I do not! I have worked relentlessly on my skills! I know what I can handle or what I can’t! You just never allow me to prove it!”

“You are a fool. I do not need to see you pushed to your limits to acknowledge your skills.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let me do what I want?!”

You both argue back and forth with neither of you backing down. Blade speaks calmly, just as he always has but with slight frustration whereas you on the other hand are full-on yelling and boiling over to the point of rage. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“I am just looking out for you-”

“I am not weak like Chun. Stop treating me like I am.”

You almost immediately regret it the moment those words leave your mouth. Your words are sharp and bitter, and pierce his heart like a blade slashing through flesh. His eyes are ablaze with fury and pain and the way his jaw clenches is enough to let you know you have overstepped your boundary.

Chun was his first love. She was a good woman with a kind heart, and despite how odd she looked amongst the Stellaron Hunters, they welcomed her as long as it made Blade happy. But in a world full of evil, being kind is a weakness and ultimately she met her end in the hands of an enemy during heated negotiations. For the one whose life was already cursed by immortality, he took her death hard and swore never to love again, for he couldn’t bear to witness yet another loved one depart for the nth time in his long life. His already broken heart took ages to heal and by the time you crossed paths with him, he was still grieving over her. You knew this very well because it was you who assured him that history wouldn’t repeat itself with you. It was you who helped him heal further and gave him the confidence to open his heart up once more to you. You knew what she meant to him because he had been honest with you about his past yet-

“Blade I-”

-here you were driving the very knife you had taken out of him so lovingly back into his heart in full force. He looks at you with so much despise and agony that your heart hurts knowing you are the cause for it. A blade being stabbed over and over into his body hurt, but those wounds always healed after a while. Yet the wound your words had caused was one that no medication could fix. Your throat tightens and you want to reach out to him and hold him but you stay glued to your feet.

“We don’t need to be around each other anymore.”

Despite the torment he feels, he looks straight into your eyes and monotonously speaks. There is not even a single moment spared for you to reply as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut, indicating he is done with you. The door closing was not just the end of the argument you both were having, it was also the end of what you were to each other. You stand there rooted to the ground as tears sting your eyes. Why did you have to be like this?

Aventurine

“Aventurine I swear to god I am not playing your petty games again.”

You angrily huff as you cross your arms and glare at Aventurine with disapproval. The audacity of this man was truly something, especially at a time like this. You both were stuck in an interesting situation, where Aventurine had made a gamble with an enemy territory and he wanted you to be part of it. More precisely, he wanted to turn you into his bargaining chip for a while. There was one tiny problem. He wasn’t asking for your approval, he had already made the deal.

“The table has already been set, friend. You just have to play your role real well.”

Your jaw hangs low when you realise what he has done. 

“Aventurine don’t tell me….”

“They have decided to ask for you in exchange of information. Do not worry, I will find a way to-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as a loud slap resonates across the room. You stare at him in disbelief with tears welling your eyes, unable to process what he has done. A shaky sigh leaves his mouth and he stares at you, bewildered by your behaviour.

“It hasn’t even been a full week since we finished another deal and you want me to jump head-on into another one?!”

“Was there a need to slap me like this? If you’re forgetting, friend, you agreed to help me out on these deals regardless of the risk. Or should I have the doctor examine your memory?”

“Aventurine I agreed to help you out, not be used however you please! You could have at least asked me first before making the deal!”

You rub your temples and rethink the entire situation through. Your relationship with Aventurine was compatible due to one simple fact: you both loved taking risks. The thrill of the gamble and the adrenaline of waiting for the results kept you both alive. It was the drug you both needed in this cruel unjust world.

But this, this was different. This wasn’t just any gamble and it wasn’t a small one either. Being traded off to the enemy territory for a few weeks was no easy task and you have no idea what the hell Aventurine was thinking. In your last deal, you barely made it out alive as the tables turned against your favour. It was a miracle your assets weren’t taken and that you weren’t killed in the process.

“…I promise you will be fine, friend.”

Tears sting your eyes and you try to take a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“The gaiaithra triclops blesses me abundantly. We will not lose.”

“Is that what you said to Lilac as well before her demise?”

You hear how his breath hitches in his throat at the mention of Lilac. He coughs a little and then stares at you with a look you cannot decipher.

“Do not bring her up.”

His voice is a mere whisper and you know you’re crossing some lines already. Yet you don’t stop there. You jab your right index finger into his chest with every word you speak.

“I don’t know what’s worse, being a gambling chip on purpose or being a gambling chip unknowingly, like she was.”

He grips the hand you have on his chest tightly. You can’t help but wince a little at how he’s looking at you with red eyes filled with regret and anger. He tries to speak but you cut him off.

“Was losing her not enough to learn your lesson? Or do you turn everyone you love into pawns of your game?”

“You’re crossing the line now.”

He warns and you shake your head.

“You treat everyone like an asset, even the ones who truly love you without any hidden agenda. No wonder you couldn’t save Lilac-“

“Enough!”

Before you can process what is going on Aventurine pulls out a gun from his inner coat pocket and shoots a random vase on the table behind you. The bang of the gun and the loud shattering of the ceramic into pieces makes you jump and shake a little. He then shifts his gaze on you and lets your hand go before issuing his warning.

“…you need to leave. Leave before I accidentally hurt you.”

“I-“

“I said leave!”

He points the gun at you. His hand is shaking in a manner you have never seen before and you can tell he doesn’t want to do this but you’re giving him no choice. You stare at him for a moment and nod your head before scurrying away.

Once you’re out of his sight he plops onto the nearest sofa and drops his gun. It lands with a loud thud as he puts his head into his hands and shakes visibly. Flashbacks of that dreaded day start to play over and over in his head and he clenches his teeth as a tear rolls down his eye.

Lilac was a woman he met during one of his travels as an IPC stoneheart. They got along pretty well and eventually fell in love. A few years ago, Aventurine asked her for help during a deal he made and she agreed only for the other party to target her as leverage against Aventurine. He still remembers the pain in her eyes as she looked at him, confused and hurt from how she became the target. He remembers holding her in his arms apologising over and over for his lack of foresight, unable to figure out where he went wrong.

It was the first and last deal he ever lost. And now you, his new partner after several hard years of grief, were bringing up old wounds that never healed. Gaps of his heart that nothing would ever fill. Another tear rolls down his eye as he grits his teeth further. Had he known you would bring her up like this, he would have never told you about her. It’s always the closest ones that hurt you the most. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[keruimi]

Only You

Obanai Iguro x Princess! Reader

Warning: Slight Angst and a little bit of spoilers and ooc.

Note: Obanai is really my favorite character so I'm giving him a lot of comfort fanfic to quench the pain I felt for his story. Early apologies if he is a little ooc. Y'all, he needs more love!

Words: 617 words

So this is what it feels like to be deeply loved by someone? That you feel like they would stay even if the world didn't.

_____________________________

All my life, I never feel anything for myself other than hatred for the reasons that was not even my fault to begin with. So how come...

How can a princess love me?

A person loved by the whole Empire, falls in love with tainted blood like me. She was the epitome of beauty, elegance, and perfection. While I am a flawed person. A simple man, who came from a family whose luxury came from sins.

But I want her...

I want to keep her, I want to love her like she did but... The guilt would always stay with me.

She can't end up with a man like me. Someone who can't even have the will to love themselves. How can she make sure I can give the same feelings she held for me?

Our worlds are too different. Our social standings are too far away. I am not worth it. This love is not worth it.

Then what is she fighting for? What is she trying to reason?

There are too many obstacles before we reach our happy ending. I don't want to be the reason for her ruined character.

She was perfect, while I have a lot of imperfections.

She was pure, I was tainted with the crimes of the blood flowing within me.

"Obanai-"

"Your Highness" I cut her off as I didn't bother looking at her but there is no denying the discomfort and disbelief that is etched on my expression.

Why is loving feels like a dream but at the same time, a nightmare.

"I can't..." I finally had the will to mutter the words I hesitated to speak out.

"Hear me out" I heard her gentle voice as she took a hold of my arm.

"Why can't you understand?" I whispered, struggling to keep my emotions in control.

"We can't be together" I continued my words as I clenched my eyes shut and fisted my hand.

I am not deserving of anyone's love.

That's why I chose my duty above everything. Love was never my priority.

Seeking the emotion I never felt before was never my dream.

"Your Highness-" I felt my next words got stuck in my throat when I saw the woman respected by many...

Kneel in front of me, she tightly clutch the hem of my haori as she look down at the grass below us.

"Can you at least give me even an ounce of love?"

Without a second thought, I kneel in front of her as she took a hold of both my arms as she seems that she badly wants to cry.

"Please, at least give it a chance" she begged as I took a deep breath to compose myself before shaking my head.

"I really can't, your Highness. Please, don't give your heart to someone it shouldn't belong to" I told her as she punched my chest in anger but I didn't feel any pain at all as her sobs slowly broke out from her lips.

"Who do you think you are to tell me it shouldn't belong to you?"

"My heart seeks for you and only you"

I felt my eyes soften on her words as the tears I desperately tried to keep from my eyes, finally overflowed.

"I would keep choosing you no matter how many times you push my away. It would only be you"

I tightly clench my eyes until I can't hold myself back and took her in my arms as she muffled her sobs on my chest.

I can't...

I don't want to push her away...

"I am willing to risk everything"

Just for me

[kiragecko]

Okay, Les Mis fans.

I am dealing with the painfulness of hope, and grudgingly choosing to love myself. Accepting that the world can be awful, but it's worth it to believe in things getting better. Y'all have the BEST fic with those themes. Can you guys give me some recs?

Modern AUs ONLY. I'm not strong enough for the source material, and period fic ... tends to acknowledge canon too much.

I usually end up reading Enjolras/Grantaire, but only because that has the highest chance of Grantaire and Eponine's issues being both acknowledged and respected. I'm way to aroace to actually care about the romance, but I do enjoy the underlining friendship (and antagonism) in their relationship when its done well. I love friendship.

Building on the friendship bit - the other characters should show up. Ignoring all their relationships to focus on the romance is very uninteresting to Geckos (me).

Someone who knows how to write kids having Gavroche show up as a side character is amazing. Let's not focus on that kid's awful life, but having one of the characters making it a bit better means a lot.

Bahorel is pure joy. I love how you guys write him. So great!

Enjolras being obsessed with justice is necessary. Him being a balanced human being is far too OOC for me. Autism being implied ... no. I don't want him to be implied to be autistic. I want him to be written by an autistic person who feels no need to acknowledge WHY they relate to him. (This isn't necessary. It just improves things, in my opinion.)

World Ain't Ready, by @idiopathicsmile is my favourite example. But it's been a while, and I didn't understand bookmarks back then, and I don't remember what else I read.

Can y'all help me?

[mtap-comics]

Well, look at that! I'm back already!

Fandom: My time at Portia

Pairing: Arlo x Female Builder

Summary: Elenya really hated this time of the month. Luckily, this time she had an Arlo who made everything a little better.

Word count: 5033

Prompt: Bundled Up in Blankets

Author’s note: I was sitting at work last week freezing with terrible cramps and thought why don't I get myself some comfort through Arlo. Because as GrumpkinVicky so aptly put it: Everyone needs an Arlo! So I abandoned my original plan for this field and wrote this instead. It was supposed to be just a cute little story, but my brain once again ran away from me and sneaked in more background info than I really wanted.

So now here you have 5000 words of self-indulgent sweet fluff with a splatter of whump. You'll probably get cavities again reading it. Proceed at your own risk!

Oh, and if anyone has a better title for this, please let me know!

Warnings: Period Cramps, lots off Fluff, Sweetheart and maybe OOC Arlo, Purely Self-Indulget

Read on AO3: Link

Code Red

Elenya hated this time of the month. But what woman didn't?

Only this time, her body definitely had it in for her. Her mood swings the last few days were so extreme that she preferred to stay away from people altogether and turn to her machines instead. She had more than enough to do with the construction of South Block anyway.

And now she had the worst cramps she had ever experienced. Her lower back ached and she was freezing as badly as if she were standing outside in the cold snow without a jacket.

It was close to noon and so far she had only gotten up once to go to the toilet, otherwise she lay in her bed in a foetal position, three blankets stacked over her.

Another terrible cramp made her whimper and she curled a little more around her middle. To make matters worse, her stomach was now making itself heard, growling impatiently. She hadn't eaten breakfast yet because she couldn't stand up long enough to make something to eat, and it was almost time for lunch.

God, why couldn't her womb just calm down?

Inwardly, she was preparing to struggle out of her warm bed to find something edible in her kitchen when suddenly there was a loud knock at her door.

With a groan, she freed herself from her blanket cocoon, only to be immediately seized by a shiver. She quickly grabbed the top blanket, warm and fluffy, and wrapped it around her shoulders, not caring how stupid it made her look.

There was another knock.

"Coming!" she called to her door, moving slowly towards it. At the level of her couch, she had to pause briefly as another cramp overcame her and she became slightly lightheaded for a moment, but then managed to open the door, letting in the cold winter air.

The sight that greeted her on the other side of the door instantly alleviated a small part of her discomfort. Arlo was standing there, his red hair and smile a warm contrast to the cold white snow in her garden.

"Hey sweetie, ready for our lunch?" The beautiful smile on his face quickly faded as he took in the way she stood before him. Hair tousled, blanket wrapped around her shoulders and shivering.

Damn, she had forgotten they had planned to have lunch together today. And she had been looking forward to their date so much....

"Hey Arlo. Sorry, I..." She didn't get any further, because an even worse cramp than before went through her stomach and with a whimper she doubled over.

In an instant, a leather-clad hand wrapped around her upper arm and, worried, Arlo crouched down in front of her so he could look her in the eyes.

"Elenya! What's wrong? Are you hurt? Or sick?" Concern flooded his blue eyes and she quickly tried to reassure him.

"No, I'm fine. It's just... God..." Desperately she wrapped both arms around her lower abdomen, wishing the pain away. If it wasn't for Arlo's hand holding her up, she would have collapsed to the floor.

A frown settled on his face.

"You don't look fine. But if you're not sick then..." His gaze dropped to her arms on her stomach. "Oh... That bad?"

"Yeah..." She whimpered again.

"Oh, my poor sweetheart." There was nothing mocking in his voice, only pure sympathy, and he tried to pull her into his arms.

But as soon as the leather of his jacket touched her skin, she backed away from him. It was freezing cold!

That only seemed to remind her body how cold it was and she immediately started to shiver again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Wait a minute." Quickly, Arlo entered her house properly, closing the door behind him and quickly stripping off his jacket. Under the jacket he wore a simple but warm looking grey jumper and she was won over by its softness as Arlo now pulled her tightly against his chest.

He was wonderfully warm under his jacket and with a happy sigh she buried her face in his chest. Her stomach and back still hurt terribly, but for a moment she felt better.

Then, when Arlo also began to gently rub her back and lightly massage her exhausted muscles, she would have liked to melt into him.

"Mmm, that's nice..." Elenya moved even closer until there was no space between them, burying her face in his neck and breathing in his soothing scent.

A soft chuckle vibrated through his chest.

"Glad I can be of some help."

"Mmm."

But unfortunately the relaxation didn't last long and her body turned against her again. With a pained whimper, her legs buckled beneath her at the next cramp and Arlo quickly led her to the couch. There she dropped onto the soft surface and curled up into a ball, her hands pressed tightly against her lower abdomen.

To her horror, tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry... It just hurts so much..." Unable to do anything about it, the tears overflowed and ashamed, she hid her face in the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.

Those damn hormones!

"Hey, it's all right. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm here to help you." Gently, Arlo ran his hand through her hair, and with red cheeks, she lifted her gaze from the blanket.

Arlo knelt at the level of her head and looked at her affectionately, but worriedly. Gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Don't you have anything to help with the pain when it's this bad? I'm sure Dr. Xu has something you can take. I can't bear to see you in such pain." His warm, large hand cupped her cheek and seeking comfort, she nestled into his palm.

"Usually the cramps aren't this bad. But this time, my body seems to really hate me." Another shiver ran through her body, the one blanket not enough to keep her warm. Then her stomach also growled so loudly that even Arlo heard it, and exhausted, Elenya closed her eyes.

Couldn't the day just be over finally?

"Are you freezing that much? And was that your stomach I heard just now? Haven't you eaten anything yet today? Wait, I'll just get you another blanket." Before she could answer even one of his questions, Arlo jumped up and came back with the two blankets from her bed shortly after. Tightly he wrapped her in them until she resembled a burrito more than a human being, and pouting, she looked up at him.

She couldn't move another millimetre!

"Oh, my sweet little builder." A deep, warm laugh escaped Arlo at the sight of her and gently he brushed an annoying strand of hair from her face. Then he gently cupped her face with his hands and with the words, "Oh, I almost forgot.", he pressed a long, soft kiss to her lips.

With a happy sigh, Elenya returned the loving kiss, even though it was a bit difficult since she couldn't wrap her arms around his neck. For a moment, all her discomfort was forgotten.

"Hey darling. I'm glad to see you." With those words, he gently broke away from her lips again, but didn't pull far back, instead looking deep into her eyes, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Hey." In love, she smiled back. She still couldn't believe how physical Arlo was. Ever since Arlo had accepted her Heart Knot two months ago, she had first thought she would have to back off a bit when it came to physical contact, as she showed her affection mostly through touch. But he surprised her. Since they kissed for the first time, he greeted her with a long, wonderful kiss every time, and he didn't hold back touching her otherwise. As long as they were with each other, he would either hold her hand, put his arm around her shoulder, or gently press his hand into her lower back. No matter who could see them, he always had some form of physical contact with her.

Only when he was working did he hold back. His position as captain and protector of Portia was very important to him and he didn't let that distract him. When it came to safety, he was not to be trifled with.

Her stomach spoke up again and concern settled back on Arlo's face.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"Dinner yesterday. I haven't been able to stand long enough to make myself something to eat. I also get lightheaded sometimes, so I decided to just stay in bed." Her womb also immediately made itself known again and with a whimper she curled back around her belly.

"I'm so sorry about that sweetheart. How about I go get us some lunch at Django's and we have our date here? Then you won't have to do anything but lie here." Soothingly, he stroked her back, helping her relax a bit.

"Oh, that would be wonderful. Can you bring me Pumpkin Steamed Rice, please?" Wide-eyed, she looked up at him.

"Of course, anything you want. Would you like anything else?" Questioningly, Arlo looked at her, but she just shook her head. Normally her body always demanded something sweet at this time, but right now she was just nauseous with hunger.

"Okay. Then I'll be back here in half an hour at the latest, okay? Are you warm enough, or can I get you something else?" Elenya felt her cheeks flush at the caring look Arlo gave her.

Never had anyone been so eager and willing to help her at this time of the month.

"Can you maybe make a fire in the fireplace, please?" Despite the blanket burrito, she still wasn't really warm, and she hoped the warmth of the fire might finally thaw her out.

"Of course." After a few practised moves, a warm fire crackled in the fireplace across from the couch, and with a relieved sigh, Elenya closed her eyes. The fire gently warmed her face, and it didn't take long for the warmth to seep through her three blankets, helping her stomach to relax a little.

"Thank you." With a gentle gaze, she regarded Arlo, who was now crouching in front of her face again.

"My pleasure. Now I'm going to get you something to eat, okay?" With another gentle kiss, he said goodbye to her, put his jacket and gloves back on, and left her house.

~~~~~~

Elenya dozed lightly for the next half hour. Trying to forget the pain in her stomach and back, she concentrated on the gentle warmth on her face until the door to her house opened quietly.

"Hey sweetie, I'm back." Arlo's warm voice echoed over to her and she sat up awkwardly to watch him place a basket beside him and take off his jacket, gloves and shoes.

Then he came over to her with the basket and sat down close to her on the couch.

"Hey, how's your stomach? Any better?" Concerned, he looked at her.

"Unfortunately not, and it will probably be a while before it eases up a bit. But maybe I'll feel a little better when I get something in my stomach. The fact that my stomach is cramping now too is not very helpful." She struggled to free her hands from the blanket burrito, but Arlo had done a good job. The blankets didn't move at all.

"Oh, sorry about that. I'll help you." Chuckling, Arlo freed her from the blankets and they pooled in her lap.

Taking advantage of her newfound freedom, she wrapped her arms around Arlo and buried her face in his shoulder. Deeply breathing in his scent again, she let him hold her.

"Thank you, Arlo.", she murmured softly into his shoulder and his grip tightened slightly.

"You don't have to thank me. I enjoy taking care of you." Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

How had she ever deserved to be loved by such a caring man?

She enjoyed his closeness for a moment longer, until her stomach growled again and Arlo finally fetched her food from the basket. They ate their lunch in silent unison on her couch and the warm, hearty food also finally settled her stomach and she felt better.

Arlo quickly put the used dishes away in the kitchen as soon as they were done eating, then sat down right next to her again and Elenya happily let her head fall on his shoulder.

"I have something for you, by the way. Two things even, if you like." With those words, Arlo reached into the basket once more and pulled out a large piece of Black Forest Cake. "I met Sam at the Round Table and she said you'd probably enjoy one of these."

With wide eyes she looked at the chocolatey pastry. Now that her stomach was satisfied, her hormones kicked in and demanded chocolate. Chocolate that was within reach, thanks to Arlo.

"I see Sam was right. Here, indulge yourself." With a soft chuckle and a satisfied smile, he handed her the piece of cake.

Elenya accepted it eagerly, pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek and then happily munched on the dessert.

She definitely had to thank Sam.

The cake didn't last long and, full and satisfied, Elenya snuggled back against Arlo.

He immediately took the opportunity to pull her into his arms and lay down on the couch. With some fiddling and probably some magic, they were snuggled together a minute later, Elenya lying on Arlo's chest, her ear directly over his heart and two of the three blankets thrown over her.

The soft sweater beneath her felt wonderful and she couldn't help but nuzzle her cheek against it. It was only the vibration of Arlo's deep, rumbling chuckle that made her realise what she was doing.

A blush rose to her face.

"What are you doing there, sweetie?" Humour was in his voice.

"Oh... I'm... Your sweater... it's so nice and soft." Shyly, she lifted her gaze and met deep blue eyes that looked at her fondly. Her blush deepened.

"It's very old, but reliably keeps me warm in the winter. Glad you like it as well." His smile and look were so gentle and affectionate that she had to avert her gaze again, hiding her red face in his strong chest.

God, this man was going to make her heart stop someday.

To distract from her embarrassing behaviour, she asked him instead, "So what was that second surprise you mentioned before?"

"Oh yes, Sam had offered to switch patrols. She would take mine from this afternoon and I would take tonight's in exchange. Then I could stay with you for the next...", a quick glance at the clock, "5 hours and make sure you're feeling better. Only if that's what you want, of course. If you'd rather be alone, then I can leave too." His arms that were wrapped around her back tightened a bit at his last words and delighted, she looked back up at him.

He could stay with her?

"You can stay here?" Wide, her green eyes gazed into his and he nodded in affirmation, pressing a gentle kiss to her nose.

"Yes, darling. Until 6:00 p.m."

Happy with this new twist to her awful day, Elenya snuggled back against his chest, her ear again resting directly over his heart. Her stomach and back still ached, but for the moment it was a steady ache and no more cramps, and she was able to block that out well by concentrating on Arlo's steady heartbeat. Add to that the warmth and sense of security he gave her, and his big hands stroking her back, and she melted into him completely.

Unfortunately, the calm didn't last long. Not half an hour had passed when the violent cramps returned. With a whimper she tensed in Arlo's arms, but her position prevented her from curling up.

Arlo was immediately on alert.

"What's wrong? Are you having cramps again?" Concerned, he began to pull himself out from under her.

She could only nod. As soon as she was alone on the couch again, she immediately curled around her stomach and pressed her hands to her lower abdomen. The pressure eased some of the cramping, but still she felt like her womb was tearing.

New tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here. What can I do? How can I help?" Arlo knelt in front of her and looked at her anxiously.

"Can you... Put your hand on my stomach? And apply some pressure?"

Maybe his wonderfully warm hands could do something about the cramps?

"Of course." Gently, he pushed her own hands aside and carefully pressed his hand on the same spot. His hand was so large that it encompassed almost her entire lower abdomen, and so warm that the heat seeped through her sweater into her stomach, relaxing the cramped muscles within.

A relieved sigh escaped her. That was much better right away.

"Does it help?" Hope resonated in Arlo's voice and she nodded. It wasn't completely gone, of course, but it was much more bearable.

"That's good. But I'm afraid it's going to be uncomfortable in the long run, but I have an idea. Would it be okay if I carried you? Then you won't have to walk."

She looked up at him in bewilderment. He wanted to carry her? Wasn't she much too heavy for something like that?

"Um... okay?"

At her agreement, he took his hand off her stomach, but before she could notice the next cramp, she found herself in Arlo's arms, bridal-style.

Astonished, she stared at him. She could feel his muscles working under her knees and back, but her weight didn't seem to bother him at all.

What else could he possibly do with her with those muscles?

Images involving a wall and hot kisses popped into her head and embarrassed, she hid her red face in his neck.

He was lovingly taking care of her and all she could think about was this! Couldn't her hormones for once decide how she should feel?

Luckily, Arlo couldn't read minds, so he just carefully carried her to her bedroom, where he gently set her down on her bed.

"Go ahead and lie down, sweetie, I'll be right back." Gently, he stroked her cheek with his knuckles and then disappeared back into the living room.

Elenya was only too happy to comply with his request. Thoughts of Arlo and his muscles couldn't distract her from her stomach long enough, so she found herself back in the foetal position.

She didn't have to wait long, though. Arlo came back with the three blankets he had left behind, first placing them on the bed in front of her and then lying down behind her. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her against his chest. He slid his left arm under her head so she could use it as a pillow and his right hand lay back on her stomach.

Immediately she was surrounded by his warmth and scent again and she snuggled even further back against him. His chest warmed her whole back and his hand her belly and she had never felt so comfortable in her life.

Which, of course, immediately brought her to tears in her unstable state.

Horrified, she buried her face in his upper arm, but couldn't hide her tears from Arlo fast enough.

"Oh no, what's wrong? Isn't it helping anymore? Do you need something else?" Concerned, he leaned over her slightly to get a better look at her face, but didn't dare take his hand off her stomach to wipe away her tears.

"No...this is wonderful... it's just... I... thank you. Thank you so much, Arlo." With teary eyes, she returned his gaze, which immediately softened.

"Like I said, you don't have to thank me. If I can help you, I will. And if I can help you by holding you in my arms, then I couldn't be happier. You're the most precious thing I could ever hold."

Great, leave it to the Civil Crops captain to move her to more tears with his words.

Uncertainty crept into his gaze. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No Arlo, you're wonderful. I love you."

Immediately, he began to beam. It was the first time she had ever said those words out loud and he seemed to have just been waiting for it.

He now released his hand from her stomach after all, so that he could gently guide her face in his direction, and engaged her in a deep kiss.

"I love you too, my sweet little builder."

Overjoyed, she snuggled back into his arms and his hand found its way back to her belly. Carefully, Elenya placed her much smaller one on top of his, gently running her fingers over the faded scars and calluses that testified to the years of hard work Arlo did for Portia every day.

"Can you tell me about one of your adventures?" She loved his stories. He had a talent for telling his adventures as if you had been there yourself, and his deep, quiet voice was something she could listen to forever.

"Of course. How about my last trip to Lucien? I'd barely set foot outside Portia before the trouble started."

He quickly threw one of the blankets over her before he really began his story, and wrapped in the warmth and gentle hum of his voice, she fell into a sheltered sleep.

~~~~~~

Elenya awoke again hours later to a soft voice whispering her name and a warm hand against her cheek.

"Elenya, sweetie, can you wake up for me?"

She groaned. She didn't want to wake up. In her dreams nothing hurt and she had the best adventures together with Arlo.

However, the voice wouldn’t leave her alone.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but I'm afraid I have to go. I wanted to know if there was anything else I could get for you."

Oh, that was Arlo.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and was immediately greeted by a gently smiling face.

"Hey there. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm..." She had never slept so well as she did in Arlo's arms.

Her eyes snapped open in shock. "Oh no, I didn't mean to fall asleep." Tiredly, she rubbed her eyes and sat up.

Arlo, sitting on the edge of the bed, quickly grabbed her upper arm as she swayed slightly and gently pulled her to his chest.

Oh, there was that lightheadedness again.

"Don't worry about that. I'm glad you were able to get some rest. In fact, I actually fell asleep for a moment too. Probably for the best, since I still have a few hours of patrol ahead of me."

Gently, he ran his hand through her tousled hair and then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

"Still... I did want to hear about your adventures." She pouted.

"I'll tell you about them again some other time. I won't forget them that quickly." A slight laugh resonated in his voice, but then he became serious again.

"How are you feeling? Are you still in that kind of pain?" Attentively he studied her and Elenya had to think about the question for a moment.

Her womb seemed to have calmed down for the moment, but her lower back still hurt as if she had spent a day in a stooped position.

"A little better. My back is just still killing me." A shiver ran through her body. "Oh, and I'm cold again..."

"Hmm... How about you snuggle back under the covers and I'll run you a bath before I have to leave? How does that sound?" Lovingly and anxiously, he wrapped her back up in one of the blankets and gratefully she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Why hadn't she come up with the idea herself this morning?

"That would be wonderful. It's just too bad you can't join me..." Startled, Elenya slapped her hands over her mouth, her cheeks deep red.

Oh God, she hadn't meant to say that out loud!

Arlo's eyes darkened at her words and suddenly she was drawn into a hot kiss, which she was only too happy to return. The shiver that rushed through her body this time was of a completely different nature.

However, the kiss became softer and softer and when Arlo broke away from her, his gaze was again as gentle and loving as it had been all day.

"You don't know how much I'd like to do just that, darling. But duty calls." A soft peck to her lips. "Come on, lie down. I'll do the rest."

A little reluctantly, she lay back down and let Arlo bundle her up in all three blankets.

While Arlo prepared her bath, Elenya let her mind wander. Twice now her thoughts have wandered into dirtier realms today and she wondered if she should finally dare to take the next step in their relationship.

They had been together for two months now and Arlo let her set the pace, as she was 8 years younger and a lot less experienced than him. He waited patiently for her, but his reaction just now also showed her how much he desired her, which made her heart race and only intensified her feelings.

She had never felt so safe and loved as she did with Arlo. Today's afternoon proved that to her anew and at the thought that he had to leave now, tears came to her eyes for the fourth time today, which she wiped away in frustration.

These mood swings were maddening!

Luckily, she was able to calm down before Arlo came out of the bathroom, and managed to free herself from the blankets to walk towards him.

She quickly found herself in a tight hug.

"Okay sweetie, your bath is done and I'm afraid I have to go now. Be careful when you get out of the tub later, okay? Lest you get lightheaded again and fall." Seriously he looked into her eyes and she reassured him with a kiss.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. And thank you, Arlo. For staying with me."

"It was my pleasure. I'll come back tomorrow to check on you, okay?"

Warmth spread through her heart at the caring words and she pressed tightly against his chest.

"Okay. Please be safe out there, Arlo."

"Don't worry, I'm always careful. I love you."

"I love you too."

With another long kiss, Arlo bid her goodbye and Elenya made her way to the bathroom to finally get some relief from her back pain. As soon as she stepped through the door into the bathroom, she was greeted by the wonderful scent of vanilla and lavender, immediately calming her.

She quickly undressed, pinned her hair up so it wouldn't get wet, and slid into the perfectly tempered water. Warmth enveloped her and with a relieved sigh she sank into the water up to her chin.

Thoughts of Arlo and how incredibly caring he was warmed her from the inside and for the next 40 minutes she let herself drift.

Unfortunately, the water then became cold and reluctantly she left carefully, as promised to Arlo, the tub. Indeed, her circulation was not quite up to par and she had to hold onto the towel rack to keep from falling.

The fact that she was getting hungry again in the meantime didn't help the whole thing either.

With an irritated sigh, she put on something comfortable and headed for the kitchen to make herself something to eat. She felt better, but she was afraid that if she moved too much now, the cramps would come again and she didn't feel like that at all.

But to her surprise, there were several things on her kitchen counter that definitely weren't there earlier.

The first thing that caught her eye was the covered plate, under which, after a probing look, several, still warm, Mushroom Crepes with Fruit Sauce showed up. Her stomach growled loudly at the sight.

Next to it was a small vial of clear liquid with a note underneath. Curious, she picked it up. In Arlo's neat, straight handwriting it read:

Hey Sweetie,

I hope you feel a little better after your bath. I brought you something for dinner so you don't have to worry about it, and I asked Dr. Xu if he had anything that could help you. He gave me this little bottle and told me you can take one to two teaspoons of it if you get cramps like that again, then you should feel better quickly.

And since you liked it as much as I did, I thought I'd leave you my sweater too. It will keep you warm tonight.

With love, your Arlo

And there they were again, the tears.

She quickly put the note aside and reached for the third item lying on the kitchen counter. She pressed the soft material firmly against her face and inhaled deeply Arlo's soothing scent.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. How could he possibly...? Oh, God…

That man was definitely going to kill her one day.

She quickly put on the grey sweater and could experience for herself how warm it was. Together with Arlo's scent, it almost felt like a hug from him. Of course, the sweater was way too big for her, almost reaching her knees, not to mention her hands, which were completely hidden in the sleeves, but it instantly calmed her troubled feelings.

Her hormones were definitely way too unbalanced for such deep emotions right now.

How on earth had he managed that in the 45 minutes she was in the bathroom? This man was simply incredible.

After calming down a bit, she happily ate the crepes and then went back to bed, where she quickly fell asleep despite the afternoon nap, and was visited by sweet dreams with Arlo.

She would definitely take the next step in their relationship, as soon as her Code Red was over. Arlo definitely deserved a generous thank you.

[saikenakoego]

What the heck, I'll also answer these with Sammy because I've been feeling edgy as hell lately.

Last one with this gal, for real this time. The unwilling vampire-turned-vampire hunter, Sammy

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

1. Excluding murder, what's the worst thing you've done?

SM: Considering the idea of giving in to the thirst at all.

2. Have you ever killed someone?

SM: Not someone, something. They're not people.

3. Have you ever killed a friend/family member/loved one?

SM: No. This question makes me incredibly angry.

4. What appears in your darkest nightmares?

SM: Blood that isn't my own.

5. What is your moral code?

SM: Protect the natural, kill the unnatural. Simple as.

6. Would you make a deal with the devil?

SM: Not even if it offered me salvation. I've killed demons. I know how that goes.

7. How far are you willing to go to get what you want?

SM: Far enough.

8. Would you consider yourself as evil?

SM: By virtue of my condition, yes.

9. Do you enjoy watching others suffer?

SM: I can't feel joy. But watching them squirm like the parasites they are as I send them straight to hell is... cathartic.

10. Have you ever tortured someone?

SM: Something. More than once. And I'll do it again. Until I inflict as much pain on them as they did to me.

11. If you were arrested, what would the charges be?

SM: Theft. Don't ask.

12. Who do you hate the most?

SM: ...Myself.

13. What is your "villain song"?

OOC: She doesn't really have one, but I tend to listen to Devils Never Cry when I draw her. Maybe Bring Me To Life by Evanescence? That's a certified Edge™️ classic.

14. If you draw: Draw your OC's darkest moment or reimagine them as a demon!

OOC:

Not really her darkest moment, but,

'Sammy looked ahead at the man who had once been her token of admiration.

A man of good, of kindness and sincerity. Who had once guided them into the right path.

Who'd once walked into her home not as a friend, nor as a figure of authority, but as family.

An equal. To her father, a brother. And to her mother, a cousin.

He stood there quietly, illuminated by the bright moonlight coming through the church's windows as he calmly straightened the creases of his vestment.

Staring coldly at the beaten and bloodied body of an unconscious Silver.

It had happened so quickly, she didn't even have time to react.

Before she knew it, she'd been slammed into the ground with enough force to shatter her spine.

It only took one or two seconds after that for her friend to follow suit and be reduced to a wheezing mess.

And she was powerless to do anything about it. As it always was. Forced to listen to the shrieks of pain of another victim while her wakened body tried its best to repair itself with what little blood she had left in her.

It angered her.

But what angered her the most was the unfeeling expression that bloodsucking bastard had all throughout.

It angered her so, so much.

"Now," the man finally spoke, wiping his bloodied hands with a pure white cloth "We can finally talk."

To hell with that, she thought.

"How peculiar" he continued "Those eyes of yours. They rage with the embers of hatred. Is it me that you despise?"

The man walked forward, into the shadows where she lay, matching her piercing stare with his own.

"I wonder why?" He calmly mused.

And then he placed a foot on her left arm. Pushing slowly, steadily, watching the skin tear apart and the bone splinter with a grotesque sound.

Of course, she didn't feel any of it. They both knew she couldn't. And to her, that was the worst punishment he could've given her.

"You were always quite fiery. The way you'd listen to the sermons, pay attention in Sunday school. That passion had always set you aside. And yet, it has also led you astray."

Then he did the same with her right arm, making sure to drag his sole on her mutilated limb with apathy.

"Holding to the remnants of your past. Hoping that they will keep you warm" he said, dropping the stained cloth on her pooling blood "I just can't understand why."

That got a grunt out of her.

"Why you would degrade yourself with these acts. Rubbing elbows with these... these animals. Their kind and their brutality are beneath us." He said while running a finger on his rosary "To reject this wonderful gift from the great Father, only someone impossibly immature could--"

"Shut the fuck up already" she spat, voice coarse and breathy.

The man simply sighed in response.

"Of course. You're still young. I often forget that" he lamented quietly "Children learn by imitation, not comprehension."

Then he signaled back to Silver's unconscious form.

"That child over there. You both act really similarly. Perhaps he was the one to influence you in this way?"

"Lay another finger on him..." she barked coldly, yet it did nothing to deter the pastor.

"And what?" He scoffed. Even though he couldn't express emotion, he sounded almost indignant "You are at the edge of your mortality, just like him. It would do you no good to continue your empty intimidations. After all..."

He turned around, giving her an uncaring glance as he walked back towards the boy.

"...You don't actually care what happens to him anyway, do you?"

"Go to hell."

The man knelt besides her sleeping companion, seemingly unfazed by the myriad of insults and threats that she continued to throw at him.

"You can stop pretending now" he stated matter-of-factly.

But that only fueled her anger further.

"You don't know fuck about me. Don't try to act like--"

"This rebellious phase of yours." He interrupted her "Pretending as if you can somehow change things back. As if you don't feel the hunger every time you hear their hearts beat. Clinging on to something that you're not anymore, and a me that never was. Trying so, so hard. When the only one you're fooling is yourself, Samantha. Stop pretending."

She bared her teeth at him. Bloodied gums and sharpened fangs gleamed under the dim light, being reflected into his unchanging pupils. Defiant, yet slightly wavering.

He sighed.

"I have now come to terms with the fact that I can't make you understand. It is simply not my place to do as a father should" he said, standing up with that same unapologetic attitude that crept into her very nerves "But it is in my hands to set an example."

"If you fucking dare--"

"Relax" the man ordered, sending a shockwave through her core with his voice "That would be counter-productive. This child... is still yet useful. Both of them are."

Her mind wandered back to Johnny, and her eye twitched slightly at the realization that she'd completely forgotten about him in her rampage.

Wherever he'd run off to, hopefully he had managed to escape. The kid was smart enough to know when to turn tail and run.

How ironic, that the same thing she'd criticized him for was the culmination of both his salvation and her damnation.

Now wasn't the time to be reminiscing about that, though. With any luck, the pastor would be oblivious to her thoughts on the matter.

"But this... thing you three do, playing with toys while thinking you're some sort of heroes" he interjected, calmly walking back to her for the last time "It must be put an end to. For your own good."

"Fuck you, pendejo de mierda."

"I no longer expect you to understand, as I said. It is not my duty to act as a father would" he said with a sigh, kneeling before her "But as the elder sibling, I must set a good example."

She was about to tell him to go fuck himself with that family bullshit, when a metallic object suddenly came in contact with the roof of her mouth.

The hammer of Silver's .50 caliber revolver clicked into place with a small sound as the pastor once again got to speak in her place.

"As such, please watch and learn as I provide the appropriate punishment for such behavior, in place of the Father."

The last thing she could do was throw him one final spiteful glance before his finger came in contact with the trigger.

Bang! The sound of the first bullet reverberated in her mouth.

Bang! The second one pulsated deeply within her veins.

Bang! The third echoed through her lungs.

Bang! The fourth rippled through her milky eyeballs.

Bang! The fifth rang far into the distance.

By the time she came to, what remained was only but the shattered pieces of the one person that she'd been desperately clinging to.'

OOC: But it's okay. She'll heal it off.

Dark OC Asks

Excluding murder, what is the worst thing your OC has ever done?

Has your OC ever killed someone?

Has your OC killed a friend/family member/loved one?

What appears in your OC's darkest nightmares?

What is your OC's moral code?

Would your OC make a deal with the devil?

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Would your OC consider themself evil?

Would you consider your OC evil?

Does your OC enjoy watching others suffer?

Has your OC ever tortured someone?

If your OC was arrested, what would the charges be?

Who does your OC hate the most?

What is your OC's "villain song"?

If you draw: draw your OC's darkest moment or reimagine your OC as a demon. If you don't draw: find a picrew or write a description instead!

[gleefullypolin]

I am still highly distracted by the spoilers and suffering for it but hearing that both Obi Wan is done after ep4 and that the carriage scene is also in ep4, I think a lot of the over the top yelling about Kenebling I saw was a touch dramatic.

(not that I am also not dramatic, I am and will continue to be so)

I haven't read or thought much on Penelope possibly having a dream but if she does...good for us, ha. I know the metadata said a dream in ep2 but in my head (and the way I'd write a fic) it would be near the end of the ep to bookend the brothel scene at the front to contrast both how he acts with her and his feelings for her over the episode. Cue wake up scene and fade to black for a mini cliffhanger before going into the 3rd ep where that garden scene is supposed to be for real. What a ride it's going to be.

Knowing we get some serious yearning, jealousy, horny jail vibes and they pretty much have to be eps 2-4 before the carriage scene that's so much to work in through 3 episodes, Obi Wan feels so much more like a plot device than anything else at this point.

Oh they are so angry about the promo. Every time I open twitter I see a new and offensive bad take on why we're getting promo but they didn't (in 2022, with the pandemic restrictions still going strong no less). It's nasty behavior and says a lot more about them than it does about s3. Truly one season per couple is perfect. No pressure to break them up for drama, no storylines fading and feeling hugely OOC or painful for almost a whole season just to act like the huge conflict never happened because they're moving onto the next one. I will happily let the next couple take the spotlight and all the better if I manage to get invested in them along the way.

20 years? That's so impressive! Adulting and too much of it, I agree, but impressive nonetheless.

I am so distracted and still searching down holes I probably would never go down to find more spoilers LOL! But I need all of them. I did see that we only get Obi Wan in 1, 3 and 4. And I would be good with that. I saw the Carriage spoiler and girl I died. I saw it ends on a cliffhanger and I will say I do have a rule about no cliffhangers because they give me the GREATEST anxiety there is. So as soon as episode ends I will be back down my spoiler hole for episode 5.

I think if you look up the word dramatic in the dictionary (something they definitely had when I was younger) it would have my name listed there. I read something that brothel scene number 1 happens in episode 2 and that brother scene number 2 didn’t come until episode FOUR! FOUR!!! I said. Yes I got dramatic again. I might have dropped to my knees in true Darth Vader style and yelled NOOOOOOO! But then I said Stacy…and Yes I talk to myself a lot…I said Stacy shut the front door, it will be ok. And then I was fine. Because then I remembered that no one knows really anything past episode one and we are all making stuff up in our heads and getting paranoid now.

I think its going to be fun and games and yearning and pining with a pinch of annoying there is this other suitor who likes veggies hanging out in the back for a couple of episodes and then all of a sudden episode 4 there is going to be some serious shit going down. And whatever happens in that one is going to be the ballgame. Because I noticed we only got like 3 screenshots from that episode. Like two of her in her dress dancing with Lord Kenobi at the ball and her serious face as he’s talking to her. And then Colin all angry and serious on the stairs…so what the hell goes down in 4 because damn. That’s where it all goes sideways and they end up literally sideways in a carriage!

I saw more beautiful promo today of Nic and Newts in Australia and it made me just flutter and flurry and not care that everyone was angry about it because it was so sweet and pure that you have to be mad and crazy to be angry about it. The things I have read that they keep saying about them is just trash and not nice. I’m happy it’s one season because if you focus on a couple for too long, writers have a tendency to screw it up by adding in dumb things to keep the story interesting like new love interests or fake drama that no one asked for. I’ve watched too many Ryan Murphy shows to trust writers. I want to see them happy and sexed up next season and running off to find a room. Maybe Colin can throw in a couple lines of “My wife” to make me giggle too.

I was ok with 20 years until my co workers told me it was like 41,600 hours of my life…though I’m pretty sure a lot of those hours were sneaking off to read fanfiction too.

[katsus-mistress]

Days like these (Bakugou x f!reader)

Summary: Bakugou loves when I'm on my periods

CW: periods??? das all?? kinda ooc Bakugou. super fluff, ig

A/N: Okay so this is a very self-indulgent one-shot written purely for myself, but I love it too much to not post it somewhere. Also, the POV might be a bit different from the usual, so sorry 'bout that.

------

I guess Katsuki would enjoy days like these, when I'm on my periods. Not because I'm in pain - he kinda feels bad about that - but because he gets to do this. Heating his palm, he lays it on my lower belly, relishing in the sigh I release. He loves the fact that he is the cause of that sigh, the cause of my relief. He loves the fact that he gets to cater to my every need. Ease the pain, kiss my frowns away, bring me food and water, or a hot water bag if that's what I want (though why would I want that when I have my heater of a bf). And after every completed task, without fail, he would ask me whether I need anything else.

It doesn't matter if he'll have to get up from the bed again, he'll do it. Feeling hot? He'll decrease the room temperature. Feeling cold? He'll wrap me further into him, layering me with another blanket. Want him to place his warm hands somewhere else? Sure, sweet.

He loves the fact that here I am, being completely vulnerable and at his mercy, asking him for help. The help I know he can give me. He adores the fact that I ask him for the smallest of stuff - having complete faith that he will help me. And he will. Of course he will. What else is he my boyfriend for?

I wanna turn to my other side, but I'm too tired to do it myself? Here, let him help. Want to move my leg? He'll adjust it for me. The blanket’s too low? Of course, how could he forget.

He waves off every "thank you" I send his way, goading me to give him more such menial tasks. It makes his heart burst - watching my shoulders slack in relief as I release that sweet sigh every single time, without fail. Makes him want to profess his love in ways that he'd usually find embarrassing. Tell everyone and their mother that he'd do anything, anything for this girl wrapped in his arms.

As he sees me drifting off to sleep, he presses a small kiss to my neck, committing the image to memory. He hopes I notice. Hopes I notice the love in every one of his actions. Hopes I notice the utter devotion he holds for me.

Hopes I know that he swoons inside every time he gets to do things for me. Cause he's not good with words, he never was. But his actions - his actions show his true feelings. And he hopes that I know and understand the feelings he feels for me. And I do. I always do.

"Mmmrgh, Kats. Wanna shift."

He breathes a tiny chuckle - I was adorable in ways he could never describe - before helping me face him, slowly and painlessly.

Our legs intertwine just as arms snake around torsos, pulling the other closer. Even closer. Closer till we breathe the same air, till our lashes touch. He has to cross his eyes a bit, but it's worth everything and some when he gets to study my serene face, the previous pain as if never existed. He wonders if he could get away with pressing a kiss to my lips without me teasing him later. They just seem to be calling him.

But he forgets about it as my eyes slowly flutter open, brown eyes drowsy yet awake. They lock on him, sharpening just a tiny bit.

And Katsuki swears his heart stops when my eyes soften, smiling on their own. He swears he forgets to breathe every time I give him that smile - the one where nothing except my eyes reveal my emotions.

He can see it - it's in plain sight - the love and gratitude and knowledge. Knowledge that he did everything out of love. Always does everything out of the sheer amount of care he holds for me.

"Thank you." He cannot focus on his hammering heart, not when he can hear it. Hear the unspoken words in the two spoken ones. Hear the "I love you, and I'm so lucky to have you by my side" when in reality he's the lucky one.

He indeed is lucky. That night, when I was no longer restless, he silently thanks his lucky stars. Thanks them for giving him such a beautiful person to cherish. He swears to the heavens above that he'll cherish me forever. Especially on days like these.

------

Tagging: @my-idea-was-stolen @strawberrydynamight

hi ik we don't talk much but I wanted you to see my work 👉🏻👈🏻

[teamfreewill56-blog]

It Means Nothing

So I don’t EVER write fan fiction because I’m not good at writing other people’s characters and them being OOC drives me bonkers but I couldn’t get this out of my head. 

KyojuroxReader SFW; slight angst? Y/N is also a Hashira

She breathed a sigh of relief seeing the Rengoku manor within walking distance, “Finally home Kyojuro, how is your shoulder?”

“It is a little sore but it will be all right. I’ve had worse.” He grinned. “If you hadn’t chopped his arm off at that last second I wouldn’t have had such a clean shot to cut off his head.”

“That’s enough praises out of you.  I’ll help you rebandage it after we get cleaned up.” She pushed the doors to the estate open and let him go through first.

“Brother! Y/N!” Senjuro ran from an open room and jumped off the porch, running over to them he hugged Kyojuro who laughed and hugged him back. “You’re home! Thank goodness! Are you okay?”

“We’re back safe Senjuro!” Kyojuro assured him with a grin.

“I’m so glad! I missed you both!” He let go of Kyojuro and hugged Y/N, she hugged him back, “I missed you too.” She kissed his forehead and Kyojuro beamed, his heart filling with joy seeing how happy Senjuro was in her arms. Y/N softly stroked the young boy’s fire tipped hair, “You must have been lonely.”

“I...it’s been all right, I’m just glad you’re home, are you both okay? Are you hurt?”

Kyojuro’s stomach twisted seeing his little brother’s hesitation, and the reminder that he was in this big house practically all alone all the time. “I’m sorry Senjuro. And only a little scratch, nothing to worry about!”

“Oh! No, it’s okay brother, you’re fulfilling your duties as a Hashira, it’s important!” He moved back from Y/N’s hug and gazed up at his brother.

Kyojuro touched Senjuro’s cheek softly, “We’re done with our duties for a while, so we get to be home for a couple of days.”

“I’m glad, are you sure the wound isn’t bad? You’ll be okay?” Senjuro’s eyebrows creased.

“I promise.” Kyojuro beamed at him. “I smell something delicious, what are you cooking Senjuro?”

He smiled softly, “Sweet potatoes and salt grilled bream.”

“Wahoo! You are an amazing little brother!” Kyojuro walked towards the house, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to report to father. Go ahead and start without me!”

“Kyojuro wait,” she called after the Flame Hashira, remembering something that had been eating at her thoughts for some time now. Kyojuro turned to her, “Hm?”

“I want to meet with Shinjurou, after you’re done checking in that is.”

Kyojuro’s smile fell, she had never met with Shinjuoru, or even seen him. Despite spending most of her free time at the Rengoku Mansion when they weren’t on duty. Even when she had dinner with them Senjurou took his father’s food to his room for him, he didn’t join them. She of course knew the stories about him as the previous Flame Hashira, and Kyojuro after some time had been willing to tell her about his childhood, so she knew about his mother, she’d never seen the ex-Hashira. Even though she was a Hashira herself, and she and Kyojuro had been together for almost a year.

“Why?”

She gave him a sly grin, “To ask for your hand in marriage of course.”

Kyojuro’s face flushed, “W-WHAT!? But you’re not supposed to--”

She laughed as Senjuro stared up at her wide-eyed, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Y/N ruffled Senjuro’s soft hair with both hands, “Besides, I’d ask Senjuro’s permission before anyone else’s.” She paused, “I’ve never properly introduced myself to him even once, I want to meet him face to face. He’s your dad and a former Hashira, it’s rude for me to come over and not greet him.”

“Those kinds of things don’t matter to him Y/N, there’s no need to greet him.”

“Brother’s right, and Dad’s been in a really bad mood lately…”

“I’m a Hashira, I’m not afraid of the bad temper of a fellow Hashira.” She met Kyojuro’s eyes, determined. “Please let me talk to him, Kyojuro.”

He nodded, “All right, come on then. We’ll be right back Senjuro!”

“Okay.” He answered timidly, “I’ll set the table.” She let him go and follow Kyojuro.

“What’s the real reason?” Kyojuro asked once they were both no longer in earshot. Y/N looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he was looking at her with a concerned expression.

“I’ll tell you afterwards, I can tell you’re wanting to talk me out of it, and I need to do this.” She paused and cupped his chin between her fingers, “No matter what happens, or what you hear, don’t come into the room. I don’t mind if you listen in, but I don’t want you in there. I don’t want him lashing out at you, I want his focus on me.”

“But it’s okay for him to lash out at you? Y/N-”

“I’ve endured worse than anything your father could ever do to me.” She pushed her fingers against his lips, “Kyojuro you can’t keep waiting for him to pick himself up, you’re an adult now, and he’s still lying in bed. He can’t break out of this alone. Besides, he’s not an evil monster, he’s just a man in pain.”

“You’re right.” He sighed, kissing her fingers he pulled them to the side and softly kissed her, she kissed him back.

“No matter what he says or what you hear, stay out. Just listen.”

“All right.” He rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

She kissed the inside of his palm and walked with him to Shinjurou’s room, she kneeled down outside the door and listened as Kyojuro gave his report and dismissed him. He looked back at her and she motioned for him to come out. Kyojuro bowed to his father’s back then stood and walked out. She walked into the room and slid the door shut behind her, keeping it open only a small crack. She walked over to the bed and kneeled down. She knew Kyojuro was kneeling right next to the door, and she just hoped he really would stay put. She took a deep breath, feeling the extra flow of her total concentration breathing constant and looked back at Shinjurou, staring out at the garden with an open book beside him and a jug of sake as well. The smell of the alcohol coated the room.

“Get out. I didn’t ask to speak to you.”

“No.” She answered calmly, “ Why did you tell Kyojuro that being the Flame Hashira means nothing?”

“Don’t back talk to me girl! What I tell my sons is none of your business!”

“It is my business when what you’re saying affects someone I love. Did you tell him that because being a Hashira didn’t provide you with a way to actually save her?”

Shinjurou grabbed his jug and hurled it at her. She let it hit her, “GET OUT OF HERE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT IT!?”

She didn’t move, the jug shattered and covered her in sake, she kept her fists on her thighs, even though the jug hit her forehead it somehow missed striking her eyes. Eyes that she bore into Shinjurou with determination, his eyes widened as he realized she wasn’t dodging and had just taken it to the face. Blood cracked down her face,  “I know that she had great pride in you as a Hashira and a Dad, because why else would Kyojuro work so hard to obtain it.” He reached for her and she grabbed his arm, not flinching, “I know how much it hurts to be so utterly helpless as the person you cherish fades away, and not being able to do anything. You feel like your entire body is being destroyed from the inside and it hurts so much to feel you’d do anything to be numb. To feel the poison in your chest every time you have to look at a true monster who’s still alive when you lost someone who was pure love and kindness and did nothing but good in their life.” She flattened her hand so it was resting against his, and placed her other hand on his wrist, his body shaking as he glared at her, “I know that she left you two amazing, beautiful sons that emanate her because everything Kyojuro does he does because of her. They’re not just your sons, they were hers too, they have her in them, and I can’t just sit by and keep watching you punish them for that by removing yourself from their lives and being so hostile towards them. How can you love her and yet be so cruel to the two people she blessed you with? The only two things in this whole world that are left of her? Your sons only have love for you, in spite of everything and you are the only person who can show them the full magnificence of their mother, she deserves to be allowed to still exist here, and I wish you would bring her back into their lives. I know you’re afraid of losing them, I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be for you every time Kyojuro leaves on an assignment. But you can’t protect him lying in here reading. You can’t be a bystander in his life and still hope to protect him.”

Shinjurou glared at her, frozen, but his eyes getting moist. She put her hands down and gently pulled herself from his grasp, “Excuse me.” She whispered, bowing before getting up and walking out of the room, not looking at him so she doesn’t see that he’s still frozen in place. She slid the door shut and looked down at Kyojuro who was staring into the room, tears in his eyes, he looked up at her, being brought back to the present as she moved the door. She kneeled down and gently cupped his face in her hands, wiping his tears away she gave him a gentle reassuring smile, now noticing that her body was shaking with the confrontation being over. She was feeling so many things she couldn’t quite figure out which feeling was making her tremble. She could tell Kyojuro was trying to figure out what to address first, her shaking, bleeding or that she was drenched.

“I’m fine, Tanjiro’s not the only one with a hard head, but some fresh clothes would be appreciated.” Kyojuro hugged her and led her to his room where he gave her one of Mitsuri’s old training outfits. She changed and then cleaned up her face, Kyojuro insisting on helping her bandage the cut running diagonally across the center of her forehead.

“Y/N you should have stopped it--I should have stepped in--”

“I needed to get my point across, and he needed to know I wasn’t trying to fight him.” She smiled, “I just hope he at least considers what I said. Your Dad is still alive, by some miracle given all the sake he drinks, and I just...I know you want your Dad back, and I want to do everything I can to bring him back to you. He might not listen to me still, but it was worth a shot.” She ran to the door, “Senjuro Kyojuro said he didn’t want his sweet potatoes and I can have them!” She grinned and ran out of the room.

“Hey wait a minute I did not! Senjuro don’t listen to her!” Kyojuro raced out of the room after her. He managed to get to the dining room just seconds after she did and tackled her, pinning her down, “Those are mine!” She hit him in the stomach with her knees knocking him off as Senjuro came into the room with a fourth plate. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to take--” Senjuro froze as he looked at the door, Shinjurou stood there, he looked at Y/N and Kyojuro. The pair immediately sat up properly.

“D-Dad?” Senjuro stuttered.

Link to Ch. 2: https://teamfreewill56-blog.tumblr.com/post/654545159409795072/it-means-nothing-ch2

[herofics]

This happend to me a few days ago and thought it'd be a funny short fic, izuku & baku (sep ) with a crafty s/o, so he's chilling in his dorm when his s/o bursts in and sprints to use the bathroom sink, turns out she was working on smth that involved bleach and accidently spilled PURE BLEACH on her arm (yes this happend 😭) they help her with her burned arm as she tries not to cry :)

These didn’t really turn out very funny or anything, but it was still nice to write. I don’t actually have any idea how bad bleach burns are, so I just kinda did both differently and with varying levels of seriousness. Also I feel like Deku is kinda OOC for some reason.

~Bakugou Katsuki~

Now you fucked up, it was an accident, sure, but you messed up nonetheless. You had somehow managed to spill pure bleach on your arm and you were now running down the hallway to the bathroom to rinse it off.

“Fuck!” you yelped as the chemical burned your forearm.

Bakugou was doing his homework when he heard someone running in the hall and cursing.

“What the hell did they do now?” Bakugou muttered and opened his room door to check on what was happening.

He could just see you disappear around the corner into one of the bathrooms.

You started rinsing your arm with cold water and you could feel the tears welling up.

“You do realize you’re in the guy’s bathroom, right?” a voice came from beside the door.

“Crap” you muttered as Bakugou stepped in to check what you were doing.

When he saw your arm, Bakugou’s eyes widened and he grabbed your forearm, but didn’t pull it out from under the water.

“What happened?”

“I-I accidentally spilled some bleach on it and since it was the pure stuff, it hurts like a bitch” you sniffled, trying not to cry.

“You need to go see Recovery Girl, right now” Bakugou stated, before turning off the faucet and starting to drag you to the infirmary. 

You let him hold your hand all the way to the nurse’s office and he sat with you while you got patched up. After the treatment you received, the mark ended up looking more like a first degree burn than a third degree one. Bakugou was muttering under his breath the whole time you were getting treated, it was something about how you were always so careless.

When you left the nurse’s office, Bakugou grabbed your hand again.

“You really should be more careful, you idiot” Bakugou growled.

“Accidents happen Katsu” you shrugged.

“Yeah? Why the hell would you use such strong fucking chemicals in the first place?”

“I was doing some crafting and I needed it”

Bakugou just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers: “Just… Be careful okay, I don’t want you to go blind or something from being careless”

“I know, I don’t want that either, I promise to be more careful”

“You’d better fucking be” Bakugou said and kissed your hand that he was holding.

~Midoriya Izuku~

Midoriya was just leaving his dorm room, but when he opened his door, someone crashed into the back of it.

“Are-Are you okay?” he asked with a little bit of panic in his voice as he looked behind the door.

“I need to rinse my-my arm, I got some chemicals on it” you said as you got up and rushed past him.

“Chemicals?!” Midoriya yelped and rushed after you.

You got to the bathroom and started rinsing the chemicals off your arm. It stung a lot, but you could feel it alleviating the pain. You were still holding back tears when Izuku grabbed your arm to take a better look at it.

“You need to go to the nurse’s office, this looks bad, but I’m sure Recovery Girl can help”

“I know, I just don’t want to bother her over nothing, I can probably treat this myself” you said.

“Has this happened before?” Midoriya asked.

“Yeah, but not with pure bleach, I’ve usually managed to dilute it before accidentally getting it on my hands, so it’s been more like water than bleach”

“I’m taking you to see Recovery Girl, even if it’s not that bad, you should have her treat it”

“Fine” you sighed and followed him out of the bathroom.

When she was done with her treatment, Recovery Girl wrapped your hand with bandages and sent you on your way with a couple of painkillers.

“Izuku?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for looking out for me, I know I can be a bit stubborn at times”

“It’s no problem” Midoriya smiled widely.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Dark Side (Pt. 1 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader is a mental health professional doing a study on prisoners and has three progressively interesting visits Spencer (based on the song “Dark Side” by Phoebe Ryan). Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Dom!Spencer (OOC lmao), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), mentions of canon-consistent self-harm, cursing, prisoner/doctor relationship Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

I'd planned this study for years. Of course, I'd also known from the start that reading about books and theorizing from the comfort of my home would be different. Incomparable to the darkness I'd be throwing myself into in the name of science.

I knew that I would be here, being escorted through the bleak, reinforced steel of the prison for a long time. I’d studied everything evil I could get my hands on specifically to prepare myself for coming face to face with the devil and not showing weakness.

But I wasn’t prepared for this.

The first day I'd met Spencer Reid, he had only been in the prison for a couple weeks. I could tell the other inmates hadn’t taken kindly to him, which was only to be expected based on his lean figure and honeyed eyes that always seemed to be looking for something else.

I hadn't looked too terribly close into the details of his case. I didn't want to substitute my own understanding or beliefs into the study. But it took almost no time talking to him to realize that he was innocent in some capacity. Whether that be because the detectives were correct in their theory that he'd suffered from an undiagnosed schizophrenic break, or because he was telling the truth that he'd been framed. Based purely on my clinical experience, I found the former very unlikely.

That should have been the end of my interactions with him. Within only a few moments I'd confidently concluded that he wasn’t evil. I was there to determine what made men turn vile, so I had no reason to talk to him.

But I couldn't help but find myself asking a new, unscripted question: Was it possible for us to house evil, but just decide not to wield it?

Because Spencer Reid was not evil, but I saw a darkness in his eyes. Like a lightbulb flickering in a poorly lit alley, providing just enough cover to trick the weak while shielding the demons that hid in the in-between.

I wanted to be consumed by that darkness. Just for a moment, basking in the void and allowing myself to feel the full force of it before the lights came back on and outlined the evidence left behind from my transgressions.

Although it seemed ridiculous to believe that he could actually read my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that the man in front of me saw the fantasies playing out behind my eyes. He watched me much closer once the guard that'd been assigned to me left my side. It had taken some time to dismiss him, but it was worth it. I wasn’t getting anywhere before he'd left, and I wasn’t scared of Spencer. He was trying to get out of here; he wasn’t going to hurt me. For those same reason, I insisted the guard break protocol and remove his cuffs. He had no indications of violence, and they would be more than happy to do it for a physician, so why not a psychologist?

We had talked about so much in a short period of time. I was fascinated by everything he had to offer and morbidly curious of just how much damage someone could take before their psyche gave into the pressure. His story was one of overwhelming pain and ruthless dedication. He'd endured things that pained me just to hear in words, much less envision or experience.

The most substantial of the hurt caused, though, was the knowing that a man could go through so much just to end up here.

Over the course of the conversation, I’d eventually moved to the other side of the table to sit  beside him as equals, rather than sit between him and the door. It might have been foolish, but I did view him as a peer in many ways. He was clearly brilliant, and well versed in both the manifestations and manipulations of evil. I tried to offer him my notes of other inmates that had since left the prison, but he wasn’t paying attention to them.

His eyes were on me. My lips, my shoulders, my exposed legs in a pencil skirt.

I crossed my legs instinctively under his gaze. He licked his lips in response, scraping his teeth against his bottom lip in a way that made me feel faint.

“Is there something wrong, Dr. Reid?” I asked softly, almost afraid of his answer.

Those dark, leather colored eyes flickered up to mine as he released a captive breath.

“Are you afraid of me? Of being in here alone with me?”

I squirmed in my seat, then leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on his thigh closest to me. He watched it as I just barely moved it with a smile.

“No. I may have only known you for a brief moment, but I can tell you are a good man.”

The look of disagreement on his face caused my stomach to flip. I was eerily excited for his response, and I could see the awareness continue to stroke his ego. 

Spencer leaned forward and spoke his words like a secret.

“I understand now… why the men we interview always ask our female agents that question.”

My heart rate was rising exponentially. It only worsened when he put his recently freed hand on my thigh and slid it between my crossed legs before prying them apart. I gasped, but he continued talking like nothing was happening. His eyes followed his own hand as it passed the threshold of my skirt. There was no sign of nervousness or apprehension, but rather an overwhelming hunger. A rage that had been turned into something more palatable.

Desire.

“Because I’d like to think I am a good man, Doctor. But right now there’s only one thing on my mind.”  

My eyes could barely stay open from the pure, unadulterated excitement and longing that flared within me.

My chest heaved with each short burst of breath as he whispered, “Do you know what it is?”

I trembled as I tried to shake my head no. Goosebumps followed in the wake of his hand that showed no sign of stopping. I swallowed, and behind the stoic, harsh facade, I swear I saw a smile in his eyes. An almost childlike playfulness that seemed ill-suited for our current situation. Like an animal who had cornered its kill and decided to toy with it for a few moments longer before sinking their teeth into its neck.

“I think you do, Bambi.”

The apropos nickname was new. I wasn’t even able to ask him what it meant, though, as I was too overwhelmed with what was currently happening. I didn’t push him away or move at all. That was, aside from the tremors wrecking my legs. A soft mewl floated in the air between us, still tingling on my lips as he brushed against the thin, damp fabric of my underwear.

His pupils were blown, absorbing the image of my now flushed face staring at him with wanton desire. I swore the air between us would ignite at any second. Still, the tension in the room was nothing compared to that inside me. Although I made no movement to show my approval, he could see it plain my response, nonetheless. He looked down at my neck, no doubt recognizing the rising rate of my pulse as his knuckles also picked up their pace. He ran them up and down against my heat.

When I did finally move, it was a subtle rolling of my hips into his hand. That time the smirk on his face was obvious, and my hand on his leg clutched with a newfound fortitude. My body was slowly leaning forward into my grip until it wasn’t subtle at all. One lithe finger hooked into the side of my underwear, gathering my wetness and spreading it up over my clit.

I choked on a sob and saw it light a fire in his eyes. My entire body responded as I bucked against his hand while trying not to scream. This torturous man could clearly tell I was reaching my peak, and he still had that goddamn fucking smirk on his face.

I hated myself for being so turned on by this, but I couldn’t control my responses. As strong as the desire to close my eyes was, I wanted to watch the way he took pleasure in my undoing. Fully ready to give in to his ministrations, my other hand reached down to grab his forearm. I felt the muscles shift under my grip and goosebumps ripple over his skin, too, as he continued. I opened my mouth to finally let him hear just how out of control he made me, but the sound never came out.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Times up,” a male guard yelled from the other side of the door.

Fuck.

I whimpered at how quickly Spencer removed his hand, easily pretending like nothing had been happening when the door opened. Looking over at him was a mistake, because he made direct eye contact with me as he put his finger in his mouth. He took his time dragging his finger over his tongue before closing his lips around it and cleaning off the evidence of what had happened inside the interview room.

Trying and horribly failing at ignoring that, I cleared my throat and tried to smooth down my skirt as he held out his hands to me. I didn't understand at first what he was asking of me, but I eventually realized that he was asking me to put the handcuffs back on him. He could clearly do it himself, so I could only assume that he was just teasing me. I did it for him anyway, watching the amusement he got from forcing me to confront his position as a prisoner.

A prisoner who I had nearly just let give me an orgasm... in the prison.

Oh, god. I’m a terrible person.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. No, the entire time he was escorted out he had a secretive little smirk on his face. All I could think was a desperate plea.

Please, god, Spencer, live long enough in here to see me again.

He was the last person on my roster today. In all honesty, I probably didn’t need to see him this time. Then again, I hadn't needed to see him last time, either. A large part of me was also terrified to see him again. After all, not only was this highly unethical and a little bit scary to learn about myself, he would know just how desperate I was for him. Did I really care about that that much though?

That terrifying thrill was also the very thing that drove me to do it, anyway.

I clearly didn't mind enough to stop him. He walked through the door with a similar, eerie air. The darkness entered with him and filled my lungs until I was left shaking from the self-deprivation of any oxygen.

Unbothered, Spencer took a seat across the table from me rather than the seat next to me. He stared at me with one quirked eyebrow and his lips in a flat line. He was reading me. It wasn’t hard to do. I made it very easy for him.

“Do you want me to stay?” the guard from before asked.

I jumped at the question. I had actually immediately forgotten his presence in favor of paying Spencer my undivided attention, but I was able to muster up the willpower to shake my head. I probably looked scared out of my mind to him, but I wasn't. Not in the way he expected, anyway.

Before he moved too far away, I blurted out, “Ah, no. Um, can you… take off his handcuffs.”

The man looked at me like I was insane, just as he had before. I clasped my hands together on the table in front of me as I curtly continued, “Please.”

Shrugging, he grabbed Spencer’s hands that were offered to him and quickly shed the metal from his wrists.

“Thanks," I mumbled, "Y-You can go now.”

Once the metal door clanged shut, I let out a deep breath that I'd been holding for some time. My relief didn’t last long, because Spencer’s voice reverberated throughout the room and commanded my heart to begin its irregular rhythm.

“Hello again, Bambi.”

A chill ran down my spine as I nervously smoothed down my hair and picked up my pen. I ignored the greeting as much as I could and opened my portfolio. I tried to focus, but it felt impossible with him staring at me like that. His eyes did remind me of the two cups on the table, though. 

“It’s coffee. With sugar,” I explained as I pushed one over to him but refused to make eye contact.

He took the drink, but said nothing. I waited for him to start drinking before I spoke, hoping the forced silence would be enough time for me to defend my previous transgressions.

“I hope you don’t mind, Dr. Reid. I wanted to apologize for my behavior last visit.”

He continued to happily sip at the drink, leaning back in his chair and waiting for me to continue.

“That was v-very inappropriate and I-I…”

That damn smirk was back, and I could barely focus. I tried, though.

“It was not like me. I want to assure you that I am a professional woman.”

This bastard actually fucking chuckled in response.

“I’m sure you are.”

Raising my hand to my mouth, I chewed nervously on the end of my pen and tried to ignore the playful intonation. I felt like I was going to die. Every time he was in the room I felt like I was suffocating.

Spencer, apparently aware of my mounting discomfort, stood up. As he walked around to join me on my side of the table, he dragged fingertips over the metal with the same tenderness he'd provided to my skin. I was shivering at the sound of his chair scooting against the concrete floor when he pulled it closer to me. He leaned over to my ear, and I expressed my thoughts in the form of a nervous squeak.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m calling you 'Bambi?'”

With a heavy gulp, I laid both of my hands flat against the paper in front of me and proudly stated, “No, I’m not.”

He chewed on his lips, clearly trying to hide his amusement at the curiosity burning in my tone. It wasn’t working. He looked positively pleased with himself as he clarified, “But you want to know.”

“I-I want to know if it’s relevant,” I replied to the cocky bastard. However, my body had other plans. It betrayed any possibility of stoicism and turned towards him before I realized it was a terrible idea.

“Oh, it’s very relevant to me.”

I clenched my jaw, realizing that he was just teasing me, but also curious for any insight into his mind. He knew that. He was better at this than I was, and I wasn’t exactly trying to hide my interest in him.

“Then tell me,” I sighed.

Repositioning himself, Spencer spread his legs so that I was between them. I looked down at the way he was caging me in to my chair. My lungs became hungry and my vision rocked. His hand hovered over my leg, and I forced myself not to lift it to touch him.

“Your legs shake when I so much as look at you,” he said curiously, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward to meet my eyes, which were avidly trying to avoid him.

But I couldn’t ignore the way he dragged his now more callused fingertips over my thigh, relishing in the way they shuddered.

“… Just like that.”

I kept my legs pressed together tightly this time, trying not to give him the same easy access he had before. It still wasn’t working.

No, this time he enjoyed the resistance in my legs as he pushed his hand between my legs.

“I wonder what else I can make you do.”

My hand flew down to his forearm before I could stop it, my other hand grabbing a piece of paper that crinkled under the pressure before I shouted, “D-Dr. Reid!”

His head fell to the side as he continued to watch me, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles of my thigh as they inched their way closer to their obvious destination.  

“Yes?” he called, leading to me immediately snap back, “This is w-wildly inappropriate!”

Leaning even closer now, his breath fanned across my face as he mumbled, “And yet… You really want me to.”

His fingers dug into my skin harder before pulling my legs apart despite my resistance. Once he got far enough, I gave in. My leg slammed down against the chair from the force he had continued to apply.

“Tell me, why is it a professional woman like yourself has to come to a prison to be satisfied? It can’t be for lack of willing men. You’re very beautiful.”

My eyes fluttered shut as he breached the flimsy cotton of my underwear yet again, this time noticing the much more provocative lace. He smirked, still keeping his eyes on mine to watch my reactions.

“What about this excites you the most, Bambi? Tell me. I want to know. You can pretend it's all in the name of science.”

“S-Stop,” I pleaded, although my body gave the exact opposite command, rubbing against his hand cupping my arousal.

“No,” he aptly responded.

My head fell back, my legs tightening around his arm as he pushed two fingers as deep as they could go into me. Grabbing onto the forearm between my legs, I began to grind against his fingers.

“I thought you said to stop. Now look at you. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

He laughed as he spoke, his cheeky grin not nearly as attractive as his now visible erection pressed against the tight fabric of his jumpsuit.

A desperate whine erupted from my throat, and I forced one of my hands to move to his leg, reaching up to grab him through the fabric. The frustrated growl that came from him in response to my hand finally sliding over him only made his touch more intoxicating. Fervently stroking him over his clothes, his hands became more determined to finish me as fast as possible.

I was not getting interrupted this time.

Spencer used his free hand to grab hold of my chair, which he yanked closer to him. I actually cried out at the sudden movement, lifting slightly off his hand diligently working inside me.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and I released a small sob as I complied. I rested myself down on his hand. His palm worked harshly against my neglected pearl at my crest and I was starting to see stars in my vision. I applied an equal pressure to his arousal.

“Come on, Bambi,” his voice shook, his fingers shifting to stroke against my most sensitive spot while he applied crushing pressure to the front, “Show me what you’re capable of.”

Finally finding my release, I rewarded him with a riskily loud moan. My eyes were half lidded and clouded with pleasure. The waves washed over me, each growing in intensity until I was nothing but a vessel of unhinged desire. He didn’t still his hands until I was basically limp. I moved my hands to hold myself up on the table and chair, and only barely succeeded.

“Fuck,” I whispered, waiting for the room to correct itself.

Spencer wasn’t about to wait, though. No, he had waited enough, I suppose. The same hand that had been inside of me roughly grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me inches away from his face before he growled, “Now finish what you fucking started.”

With that, he pushed my head down to his lap, and I grabbed onto his knees for balance.

My heart was racing at the forcefulness of his requests. There was no one here to stop him. I realized now that I couldn’t really say no. Not like I wanted to.

I didn’t even have to remove him from his pants; he was polite enough to do it himself, all the while keeping his grip on my hair with his other hand. The sight of him was almost too much to bear. I was already lightheaded from what had happened. It was all a recipe for disaster that I really wanted to pursue.

Sensing the slightest amount of hesitance, he loosened his grip. It was his reminder that he wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to. So when I raised my hands and wrapped one around his shaft as I ran my tongue up its length, that was me reminding him I wanted to be here.

The guttural moan he gave as I took the head of his arousal into my mouth was my favorite noise so far. He was less patient now, applying a heavy pressure to the back of my head while his hips moved up into me.

“Fuck, Bambi,” he groaned as I flattened my tongue against him and drew more of him into me.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before he finished - after all, he was a fucking prisoner - he hadn’t been with anyone else since he got here (at least, I assumed). My hand still anchored around the base of his cock began to move, matching the pace of my head as it bobbed up and down. His body language was so relaxed, like this was the most natural position in the world for us to be in.

I wanted to please him so badly it hurt.

Readjusting his grip on my hair, he began to push down on me once more. His hips beginning to rock, I understood that he would be finishing soon. A loud moan against him gave him a newfound urgency to finish. Holding me down with both hands now, he thrust wildly into my mouth as I choked on the length of him.

Tears stung at my eyes, spit dripping down my mouth as I cried out, the sounds stifled on his cock. With one last jagged movement, his seed filled my mouth and throat as he held me down as far as he could go. I hollowed my cheeks as much as I could, sucking on him as he found his release.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned, holding me down for a few moments longer and feeling the way I struggled against him.

Once he pulled me off, I swallowed harshly before taking a gasping breath for air. My chin covered in saliva and his essence, the look of satisfaction on his face was all the praise I sought.

Finally letting go of my tousled hair, he tucked himself back into his pants and ran a hand through his own messy brown locks. His chest puffed and his pulse visibly wild, he licked his lips as he admired at the mess he had made of me.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

With a crooked smile, I finally wiped at my mouth and cheeks to catch any smeared make up. I laughed just a bit, looking at him coyly from the side of my eyes, still afraid to make direct eye contact with him. He had no problem outright ogling me as I stood up, readjusting my clothes with very unstable legs.

“U-um, I-I…” I started, stammering nonsense as he continued to rake his eyes over me. How could he still want more? I felt like I just ran an entire fucking marathon.

When I turned around to face him, he had already stood up and approached me. It was easy to forget how tall he was when we were sitting. He towered over me still in my chair, looking down at me like a predator ready to snatch his unassuming prey. My breath caught in my chest as he raised a single hand, resting it softly against the column of my throat.

“If you’re so good at that… I wonder what other talents you’re hiding from me.”

My legs were still wet with my previous release, causing them to slide against each other as I clamped them together.

“I’m not h-hiding anything, Dr. Reid,” I managed to say, my voice still hoarse and made worse by his hand applying a soft, uneven pressure around my neck.

“Not from you,” I concluded, craning my neck to give him better access.

He smiled, dragging me forward by my throat to crash our lips together. It wasn’t until now I realized that we hadn’t actually kissed yet, and my mind was swimming with all the things I wished I could do with this man. His tongue explored the caverns of my mouth, clearly enjoying the way he tasted on me. I mewled again into his mouth, my hands coming up to grab onto the waistband of his pants, trying to stay upright.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

And just like that, his disposition changed. He pulled away from me, taking my bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. I whimpered at the loss, following his face forward until I couldn’t any more. His hand around my throat was the last thing to leave. The air was painfully cold in comparison.

This time he cuffed himself, leaving the room with another secret smile and a farewell.

“Until next time, Bambi.”

My third visit was much more tense than I was used to with him. Pacing back and forth in the medical room, I chewed on my nails from the nerves. It had been incredibly hard to get the prison administration to agree to this visit. Spencer had been placed in solitary confinement after a fight with another inmate where he had apparently stabbed himself?

I was sure he had a reason for it, but Jesus fucking Christ. Was he trying to kill me, too? More than anything, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Solitary confinement is hard enough for a regular person. But Spencer had other baggage that would make it unbearable.

The sliding click of the door as it opened came with it an overwhelming anxiety.

“Dr. Reid!” I shouted as I ran over to them, a soft hand resting on his unharmed, shackled arm.

The guard eyed me with an acute suspicion as I pushed Spencer’s hair out of his face, looking at the crazed look in his eyes with as much compassion as I could possibly feel.

“Take these restraints off him, for the love of God,” I muttered, holding the chains up with a pained shaking in my voice.

“He caused a riot and nearly killed himself. That’s a bad id—“  

“Take the fucking restraints off!” I screamed back, absolutely seething, “He’s in pain, not fucking crazy!”

Although his face remained stoic, I could tell from his labored breathing through his nose that what I was saying hit him harder than he was expecting.

The guard relented, likely figuring that it wasn’t worth it to worry about me if I really wanted to die. But I was convinced that Spencer wasn’t a threat; especially not to me. He didn’t even bother asking if I wanted him to stay, and I didn't wait for him to leave before I began tenderly rubbing Spencer’s wrists. I extended his arm to see the extent of the damage done to it.

“Oh, Spencer,” I painfully whispered.

He was still silent, watching me with rapt fascination. A loud click signaled the door locking behind the guard as he left.

What happened next was an absolute blur. I felt the breeze whip around me as Spencer’s hands roughly grabbed my hips, pushing me back until I crashed into the exam table bolted to the ground.

Trying not to yell at the sensation, I grabbed onto the table and looked up at the man pressing harshly into my skin.

“D-Dr. Reid?” I hesitantly asked, already weak to the way he handled my body like a fucking ragdoll.

Wrapping his good arm around me, he hoisted me up onto the exam table. I clung to him, my legs wrapping loosely around him and still worried about hurting him.

“Not Spencer now?” he asked, his mouth quickly distracting itself with laying sloppy kisses against my neck.

“I-I,” my stammering more frantic as he lacked any patience, a hand shoving my dress up over my hips.

“Where the fuck have you been, Bambi?” he crackled, a distinct sadness and resentment underlying his words. I was guilty but thrilled at the same time.

This situation had always been messy.

“I-I’m sorry,” I choked out, his hands working to remove my underwear. When it became too difficult due to his damaged arm, he resorted to yanking on them until the lace string snapped under the pressure.

A dark growl against my skin at the sound of the fabric breaking, Spencer dragged his teeth against my neck before barking, “Sorry just isn’t good enough. Show me how sorry you are.”

Not able to do anything under all the attention he was paying me, I just sat there helpless as he pulled down his pants and revealed his ready erection.

“B-but we don’t… There’s no c-condoms here,” I panted, a wild look in my eyes as he approached me, rubbing himself on my already dripping heat.

Bringing our faces together again, the fire in his eyes shrouding the atmosphere in dark plumes of smoke.

“Your call, Bambi,” he muttered against my lips.

After a few seconds of what I can only loosely call contemplation, I gripped onto his shoulders and pulled myself closer to him. The tip of his cock barely breached my entrance, and my eyes were already rolling in the back of my head.

“Take me, Spencer,” I begged, “Please, god, take me.”

“Not God,” he reminded as he slammed into me in one swift motion, “Just me.”

The feeling of him inside of me was intoxicating. I’d never done anything even remotely like this, and I was hooked. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms falling back to try and prop myself up as he set an immediate, feverish pace. The sounds of sex filled the area, along with my frantic and wild breath. Eventually, I found something to hang onto. Leaning my back against the propped up table, I grabbed the handcuffs attached to the sides and held onto them for dear life. The sound of chains rattled around us like a soundtrack to our undoing; our exploration into the darkness.

He must have enjoyed the way I looked laid out for him, holding onto chains that had once held him down, because his thrusts became harsher. His hands were firm on my hips, holding me down so I could barely move. Not for a lack of trying. I writhed underneath him, the bruising pace and strength of his thrusts riding that delicious border between pain and pleasure.

Clearly seeking more, Spencer leaned forward, a hand grabbing my chin to reorient my face towards him.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a fucking month,” he forced through clenched teeth, “That’s how long you made me wait to take what’s mine.”

It was so hard to keep looking at him with that feral look on his face, driving into me like he honestly wanted to tear me in two. I sobbed out a moan as my muscles began to tense around him.

“You belong to me, Bambi. Act like it.”

Swallowing down a scream, my back arched harshly into him, the tension in my stomach finally reaching the point of no return.

“I-I’m yours, Spencer,” I whimpered as my orgasm began to crash into me. Almost breathless, I somehow managed to let out another mangled phrase. “I’m yours.”

I was honestly shocked he’d held on for as long as he had, but his hips began to falter and his pace slowed dramatically. His thrusts were just as violent, though, bottoming out in me as he finally came. My walls quivered vigorously around him, gripping him like a vice and begging him to stay close. The look of ecstasy on his face was undoubtedly worth whatever bruises would result from his hands. My legs shook like an earthquake, and I gave one last keen, breathy whine as I felt our mixed juices beginning to seep down my thigh.

“Good,” he finished, pulling out of me with a final grunt.

Dizzy and satiated, my arms toppled onto the exam table and my legs hung uselessly off the edge. I closed my eyes, trying to put back together the pieces that Spencer had left in his wake. But what I wasn’t expecting was the sound of running water. I looked over to see him wetting a washcloth, which he then used to tenderly clean the mess dripping down my legs.

I reached down to take it from him and sat up warily, still not trusting my vision to not rock. Cleaning myself up, I shifted so that Spencer could also lean against the table. He took the position, rubbing the area around his leg where he had no doubt aggravated the wound.

“Did you hurt yourself?” I asked, watching him with a small pout from my peripherals.

“That’s a stupid question.”

Well, he’s not wrong. He did stab himself. I snorted, covering my mouth as he smiled in response.

“You’re such a troublemaker, Dr. Reid.”

I walked over to toss the washcloth into the laundry bin, strutting back over to him with a much more confident walk now. He watched with a strange mixture of pride and nostalgia.

“Confidence looks good on you,” he complimented, grabbing a handful of my dress to pull my body flush against his.

I smiled bashfully under his scrutiny. That time when his hand cupped under my chin, it was gentle. I sighed into the touch and raised my chin to reveal my neck to him. But he didn’t grab it; instead he pressed a chaste kiss against my lips.

I blinked rapidly, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I missed you, Bambi.”

My heart leapt into my throat, and my lips shook as I mumbled back, “I missed you, too.”

Still, within a few minutes he was preparing to leave. The guards hadn’t even come yet. He was leaving of his own volition, planning to return back to solitary for god knows how long. We didn’t talk about when I would come back, knowing that it was never promised in this situation.

One more butterfly-soft kiss on the lips, he let me lock his restraints once more.

“Thanks for giving me something to look forward to,” he uttered in the silence between us, “Until next time, Bambi.”

As he shuffled down the hall my heart shattered into pieces on the floor.

Please, god, Spencer, live long enough in here to see me again.

I'd called the prison nearly every day, but half the time they wouldn’t even confirm whether Spencer was even still there, much less if he was still in solitary confinement.

Our prison system was, in so many words, fucked up.

Thoughts of him consumed my life. I couldn’t do anything without remembering the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips on my own. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hold him and tell him how badly I missed that feeling he gave me. Not the sexual pleasure, although that certainly was a plus, but that raw, electric connection we shared.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Confused by the sudden sound of hands rapping against my door, I walked slowly to the door. My hand hesitated over the handle, scared and thrilled to see what was on the other side.

I recognized that feeling.

As the handle turned in my hand, I opened the door to reveal Spencer, standing on my porch in a well-tailored suit. The vision knocked the breath from my lungs, and I nearly fainted. He just smiled as that playful spark appeared in his eyes once more.

“Hi, Bambi.”

| Part Two |

[diofasolia]

Ink! Sans x Reader

(part 4) (finale)

Ink! Sans by @comyet

Error! Sans by @loverofpiggies

Dream by @jokublog

Writings by me

Warnings: OOC, might get confused with the plot, generally bad writing

(Ink's pov)

    Having a soul is truly amazing. I can feel any kinds of emotions without the vials. (Y/N) is still unconscious. I visit her, speaking to her at the hospital everyday, or just sitting there watches over her silently.

    Even so I want to stay by (Y/N)'s side every seconds, I can't abandon the job of AUs guardian. So I ask Dream to check up on her (I mean, people can still dream even you're in a coma, right?) Dream reassures me that (Y/N)'s metal state is stable and is still that optimistic girl. 

    "Please wake up, (Y/N). Everyone's so worrying about you."

    "I've been praying for you, (Y/N). Praying for you very day and night. Hoping you'll open your eyes."

    There's no response no matter what I say to (Y/N). I feel so helpless. But I have to stay strong for her. I want to tell her so many things. I want to show her that I'm no longer the emotionless being I used to be.

    "Wake up, please."

    I hold onto (Y/N)'s left hand. It's warm yet also feel lifeless at the same time.

    "Heh, why are you suffering instead of me? I drive you into doing this crazy idea. I should be the one take all the pain. My dearest, please wake up, WAKE UP!"

    "And…the rest is history."

(Your pov)

    You listen to Ink as he finishes the events after you fall into a coma. Still, you can't believe you've slept for such a long time. 

    "No wonder I remember seeing Dream. You sent him to visit me in my dreams. It's really nice to have some accompany while dreaming." I joke.

    "Hey Ink, can I see your soul?"

    He summons out his soul. It's an upside down half soul in a beautiful pure white color. A little hints of red color inside of it. 

    "I guessed you shared some of your determination to me when you 'separate' your soul."

    "Oops, sorry I didn't mean to nearly get myself killed. It doesn't matter now. I'm just glad that my plan work well."

    "Well, since I have your half of soul, I guess we're soulmates now."

    Ink points at my soul, which I have summon out as well. 

    "Yeah, that's basically what Dream told me."

    "W…what!?"

    "How do you think that I can hear your voice in my dreams? We've got a connection thing of our half soul. That's what Dream said."

    "Ink…are you…blushing?"

    I never seen Ink blushes before.

    "I mean…umm…yeah? I can fully feel emotions now. I'm just a little embarrassed."

    Ink rubs his skull, suddenly looks straight into my eyes.

    "(Y/N), I know I have already hurt you deeply. You even almost died because of wanting to help me. But I have to say this, in a real heart."

"I love you, (Y/N). I love you with my whole being. I want to start over everything I did wrong in the past. I understand that if you don't want to be with me anymore…but I still want to ask,"

    "(Y/N), do you willing to be my girlfriend?"

    "Ha…hahahahaha!!"

    You can't help but burst out in laughters.

    "Why…why are you laughing! I'm serious!"

    Oh dear, he's SO red.

    "It's just…! It's like the time I ask you to be my boyfriend."

    "Nice to meet ya, Mr. soulmate."

    "Love you too, my rainbow lover."

What…what the heck am I writing?

I don't know what happened in my brain back when I made this story

Oh dear this is so bad XD

It's always funny and cringy re-reading and editing my old writingsヾ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)ノ♪

[bakugoshrimp]

Comfort

Where Y/N has a breakdown, and Bakugo helps.

Pairing: Bakugo x Female!Y/N 

Word Count: 1.3k words 

A/N: So uhh, I feel like i took a lot of creative liberties here, but yeahh. This is purely self indulgent and ngl, most likely OOC (Out of Character) Bakugo. It also might seem dramatic considering she had a breakdown over a single grade, but again, it’s purely self-indulgent and yes I imagined this whole thing to calm myself down . Please be nice, but constructive criticism is welcome! Also, I have no clue what universe they’re in but its like a mix between BNHA and our reality lmao. Also I might come back to this and fix up grammatical errors and anything that sounds weird, and change up the title bc I’m extremely uncreative help.

Song: Ribs by Lorde (I’m in a Lorde phase don’t mind me)

It was loud. Loud in your head, loud in your ears, just loud. You tried to stop the feeling of numbness, tried to drown out the screaming thoughts by quickly stuffing your earphones into your ears, and increasing the volume of the music blasting through your earphones, tried to ignore the pain in your heart. 

My mom and dad let me stay home; It drives you crazy, getting old; This dream isn't feeling sweet; We're reeling through the midnight streets;  And I've never felt more alone; It feels so scary, getting old;

You tried to stop the tears from spilling as the meaning of everything just hit you, hit you so hard it just left you reeling, as you tried to reel all the thoughts all the feelings back into your heart, just to get everything to stop. You just wanted everything to stop, you didn't wanna feel hurt anymore; didn't want to feel scared anymore didn't want to feel pain anymore; it was all just so exhausting. 

But your brain wouldn't listen to you; drowning you with the thoughts swirling so fast you can only understand fragments of them. You can barely remember what happened as you ran out of the class, and to your room; lights off as you just curled up under your blanket, cuddling your plushie so hard as you tried, and failed, to keep the tears from falling.

It took him a total of 10 minutes for him to find you. He hadn't missed the heartbroken look on your face when they all received the marks for their weekly biology quizzes at the end of their class; hadn't missed the panic and exhaustion threading through your every movement for the month as you struggled to finish the overwhelming amount of assignments. 

He watched you as you waited until the classroom was empty when you tried to discretely flee to privacy, packing up your stuff as fast as you could, but not before he caught a glimpse of the big fat F scrawled on top. 

Cussing every single teacher under his breath, he jumped out of his seat. He knew you wanted to specialize in biology, and knew every single dream and worry you had, having spent nights just whispering to each other everything on nights you couldn't sleep from everything. 

He quickly followed you, knocking softly on the door to your room before slipping in, closing the door softly behind him because he knows how much you hate to cry in front of others; knows how much you hate showing this one weakness in front of others. You two were a lot alike in that regard. 

Crouching down in front of the bed, he uncovered your tear-stricken face from under the blanket, suppressing a wave of anger at everyone who made you cry. Your eyes were bloodshot, your eyelids swollen from all the tears.

You flinched slightly at the cool air sitting your wet face, a sharp contrast to the suffocatingly humid temperature under the blanket. You already knew who it was, had memorized the sound of his footsteps, but didn't dare to look at him, scared of crying if you do. 

"Why am I such a failure?" your hoarse voice was the only sound in the still room, hands still gripped tightly around your plushie. 

Bakugo chuckled slightly, clambering into your bed and hugged you, your tears wetting his dry shirt. "I ask myself that too, you know. Why are you such a dumbass?" 

A strong rough hand, gently but firmly gripped your chin, making your watery eyes meet his soft and determined crimson eyes. "Y'know, maybe you're a dumbass, but that doesn't make you a failure." 

"But I'm failing everything. This fricking course-"

"Two quizzes and an essay does not mean everything. You still have time, and you will still excel. And you can say f**ck you to those who say otherwise. So you bombed this quiz; that doesn't mean it's the end of the world for you. So many people around the world fail, but those experiences will only make them stronger and more fierce than ever." He said fiercely, fire red eyes burning into yours. "Why do you think we train so much? It's to make us make mistakes, and to learn from them." 

His warm lips touched your forehead in an endearing kiss, and added, "If you want, I can blow them out of the sky for you." 

You let out a watery giggle, and took a shuddering breath, inhaling his caramel scent and cologne. 

"So what do you do now?" Bakugo asked, after a few minutes of quiet contemplation. 

You simply burrowed your head further into his chest, your voice muffled as you said "I don't wanna do anything; I just wanna sleep here with you forever." 

Bakugo threw his head back as he barked out a rough laugh. "You and I know that's not possible, teddy bear. Plus would you let this one puny mark beat you down? Come on, you and I both know you're much stronger than that." 

"No I'm not." was your only reply. 

At that, Bakugo rolled off the bed, snatching the plushie from your arms as he stood up, the sudden loss of his body heat and the comforting weight of said plushie from your arms eliciting a whine. 

"Give it back," you whined, making grabby arms in Bakugo's general direction as you shoved your face into your pillow. 

"Nope, not until you admit to yourself that you're a much stronger person than you give yourself credit for," Bakugo demanded. 

"But that would be lying, and you hate lying." You accused, shooting up and turning around to face him. 

He simply leaned in, close enough that your noses are almost touching. "That's why you wouldn't be lying. Say it, or the stupid ugly thing gets it." To prove his point, tiny explosions crackled off his unoccupied hand.

"Hey!" you protested "it's not stupid nor ugly; it's just old. Stop bullying it." 

"Then say it." 

"Fine. I'm a strong person. Happy?" 

"Say it with conviction and believe in it too, dumbass." 

You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes as you said "I'm a strong person, and I won't let some puny stupid marks break me down because I'm much better than that." 

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and pecked your lips as he threw the plushie onto your bed. "Now get up. We have our chem lab report due midnight and I still haven't started mine, and I know you didn't start yours yet." 

You grumbled as you stood up and stretched, "I hate school." 

Bonus:

Bakugo grumbled over the stove, stirring the noodles as a delicious smell wafted around the mini kitchen. You were sitting on the counter nearby, hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate (it was originally black tea but Bakugo had swapped it quick so you would be able to sleep tonight), legs swinging slightly as you drifted away in your thoughts.

The explosive blonde turned around, smacking you back to reality with his wooden spoon. “Oi dumbass, stay with me here.”

He was well aware of your ability to dwell on past mistakes, even after your tears were long dried, which was the only reason why he decided to let you bully him into making fried noodles at 11 pm after both of you had successfully submitted your assignments.

You jolted back into reality, blinking at him. “Yeah I’m here don’t worry, ‘Suki”

He merely hmphed before turning to the stove, turning it off before separating the hot food into two different plates. Handing one to you, he gestured to the nearby table with his chin. After both of you finished your meals, a comfortable silence falling between you two as you simply enjoyed each others presence. Scooting your chair loudly to be next to his, you smacked your possibly greasy lips against his cheeks much to his disgust, and laid your head on his shoulder.

“ ’Suki?” you said, earning a questioning hrm from him. “Thank you.”

Ignoring the warm feeling blossoming in his chest, he simply slung an arm around you, pressing his lips to the side of your head in response.

[lupinlongbottom]

Jacaranda

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) (L/N) was pissed. Not just at the world, but at her close friend, Draco Malfoy. Why on earth did she still trust him? Hang out with him? Even after everything nasty and vile he’s done to her other friends? (Y/N) wasn’t so sure.

Prompt: Would you do a Draco Malfoy imagine of him and the Slytherin!reader being friends despite her good friendship with the Golden Trio and Draco finds the reader near tears (all the years he’s known her, he’s never seen her cry and doesn’t like to cry in public) after detention with Umbridge and when she sees Draco she cries because she associates him with safety and their feelings come out? - Anon

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: A few swears, nothing major my dudes

A/N: This is my first time writing for Draco! Wowie! Hope he’s not too OOC? I’m just so used to writing for the Weasley’s that it was hard to switch it up. Either way, I’m pleased. 

Part 2

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(Y/N) (L/N) was just like every other Hogwarts student. She was occasionally late to class, enjoyed watching Quidditch with her friends, basked in the spring sunlight in the courtyard and rarely found her life to be exhaustingly hectic. Behind her cool demeanor and Slytherin robes, which many found frightening, she was kind, listened intently to others and found the brightest spark in every soul. Her house didn’t define her, which many found hard to believe, resulting in very few and honest friends. The ones that managed to look past it, were worth the fight.

“I don’t understand why you had to go and join that ridiculous squad, Draco,” (Y/N) said, biting into her bland toast. Needed more jam. “That badge is ghastly to look at.”

“Fits with the rest of the ensemble, does it not, (L/N)?” Draco said, flashing the silver ‘I’ in (Y/N)’s direction. “You’re just jealous that Umbridge didn’t choose you. Don’t worry, I can put in a good word for you, considering you’re one of my closest friends.”

“I didn’t apply,” (Y/N) said cooly, spooning more of the berry jam onto her toast. “If I was truly one of your closest friends, you’d know how I feel about that witch of a woman anyway,” she took another bite. Much better.

“That ‘witch of a woman’ is our Headmistress,” Draco scoffed, gulping from his goblet quickly. “She’s doing right by this school, something that should’ve happened a long time ago, I reckon. It pains me to see how you’re blinded by those bumbling Gryffindor grunts, that Potter is filling your head with nonsense.”

“You’re on a power trip, Dray,” (Y/N) sang, finishing her breakfast in two more bites. “If you will excuse me, I have a class to attend,” she turned around, facing Draco once more. “And no, Potter isn’t filling my head with nonsense, I’m just bright enough to look past the muck the Ministry is shoving down our throats.”

“Are you saying I’m thick?” Draco retorted, gaining the attention of the Slytherin girl, who had begun walking away.

“Of course not,” (Y/N) said, smirking. “I’ve known you since we were in nappies, Malfoy. You’re not thick in the slightest, you’re actually quite the intellectual,” she spun around again, this time marching towards the exit. “I just wish you’d be bright enough to turn on the light from time to time.”

“(Y/N),” Draco said, flying up from his seat, trying to match the pace of the girl across the table. “Join the squad,” he panted, having practically ran to the exit of the Great Hall to catch up. “Please,” he reached for her hand.

“Draco,” (Y/N) said, pulling her hand away from his, as if it were a red hot iron. “If I recall, you’re little gang of goons were the ones that threw all of my friends into a massive detention—”

“They were in an illegal organization, (Y/N)! They planned to take down the Ministry—”

“Yeah? Why didn’t I get a detention, then? I was just as much apart of their organization,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms, her posture stiff. “Or did you meddle in that, too?”

“Of course I ‘meddled’,” Draco scoffed. “Do you really think I was going to let one of my oldest friends get caught in the crossfire? Umbridge gave you a second chance to prove yourself, which, by the way, is entirely thanks to yours truly.”

“Bite me,” (Y/N) seethed. “If it weren’t for the fact I was a pure-blooded Slytherin—”

“Traits you should be honored to have, mind you—”

“For Godric’s sake, Draco, can’t I just be mad at you for once in my life!?” (Y/N) said, her tone rising. A few straggling students’ eyes wandered to the two at the foot of the hall. “All my life has been following you, Draco. Listening to you, Draco. Whenever we played as children, we did what you wanted to do. I listened, I played along. I care for you, Draco, I do,” (Y/N) said, her eyes growing softer. “But you have to understand that I’m not the same girl you grew up with. I have different interests, different friends—”  

“You’re still my friend, (Y/N),” Draco said, cutting (Y/N) off. “Yeah, I put up with your timely bullshit, only because I know when the cards all fall, your real allegiances stand with your kind. Our kind. You’ll come crawling back to me eventually.”

“We’ll see about that,” (Y/N) clicked, turning her heels sharply and exiting the hall, leaving the blonde boy at a loss for words. “Stupid Malfoy, stupid hair…” she mumbled, adjusting her grey jumper, the white shirt underneath was poking through the ends. (Y/N) hardly noticed the pink flurry of a woman she had just run into.

“Ms. (L/N),” Umbridge smiled sweetly, almost sickeningly.

“Headmistress,” (Y/N) said, bowing lightly. “I’m so sorry for bumping into you, I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going—”

“Playing with your jumper, I presume?” Umbridge said, the smile not leaving her face.

“Sorry, Headmistress,” (Y/N) said, voice panicked. “My undershirt became untucked from my skirt during breakfast and I—”

“No need for explanation,” Umbridge held up her hand, halting the Slytherin’s words. “You’re in violation of Educational Degree Number Forty-Five, you’re out of proper uniform—”

“I was just fixing myself—”

“Contradicting your Headmistress?” Umbridge squeaked, eyeing (Y/N) down. “Normally the violation of Number Forty-Five results in a handful of house points taken away, but talking back? Consider your activities for this evening postponed. Detention, my office.” (Y/N) stood stunned as the Headmistress walked towards the Great Hall, presumably to get her breakfast.

__

“…that sounds completely unfair,” Hermione whispered above her book, eyes darting at (Y/N). The library was near silent, all students were busy preparing for their exams and classes, much like a normal afternoon.

“You’re telling me,” (Y/N) huffed, flipping the page of her textbook to lessen the suspicion of Madam Pince. “I’ve never had detention with Umbridge before.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Hermione hissed, a slight distain at that fact. “If you only knew the torture Harry’s been through—” Madame Pince eyes the girls down for a moment, watching as they quietly read the books in front of them. She grew disinterested and began shelving books once more. “Hasn’t he shown you?”

“Harry hasn’t exactly been my best mate since he thought I was the one who snitched on the D.A,” (Y/N) quipped, rightfully so. “He never really trusted me in Dumbledore’s Army anyway, always thought I was going to run and tell Malfoy everything about it.”

“Can you really blame him, (Y/N)?” Hermione asked, her expression exasperated. “You’re close friends with Malfoy, the person that hasn’t exactly been the kindest to Harry, or any of us for that matter.”

“You trusted me,” (Y/N) said, pointing her eyes sharply at Hermione. “Bloody hell, Ron trusted me. I feel like these last five years of friendship mean nothing to you lot—”

“We care about you, (Y/N),” Hermione hissed again. “But you need to understand that you’re fraternizing with the enemy. One of these days you’re going to need to step out of both ponds and pick a side.”

“Must there even need to be sides?” (Y/N) said, flipping her page angrily. “Draco has been my closest friend since I was young, he knows me better than I know me at times. I understand that he can be brash and rude, you know I surely don’t agree with the foul things he’s called you in the past, right?”

“Of course I do, I’m not daft, (Y/N),” Hermione sighed. “In years past, it’s been easy to ignore your friendship with Draco, he was just some dumb bully who called people names. Now it’s starting to get real, (Y/N), real scary at the way he’s acting.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I hate seeing him this way,” (Y/N) mumbled, thumbing the corner of her textbook, watching the pages flicker rapidly together in a pulsing wave. “He needs me, Hermione. He needs a real friend, to stop him from going down the path he is. I see the darkness welling inside, the need for power. I want to help him, Hermione, I do.”

“Are you willing to lose your real friends for it? For Malfoy?”

(Y/N) thought back to the boy she grew up with, the one that would laugh at her stupid jokes, egg her on to do stupid things. They would spend the summers under the flowering tree on the (L/N) estate, blue trumpet-shaped flowers falling onto their heads from time to time. She always adored how the color complimented his hair, made him appear softer than he was. It made Draco look nice, caring, unlike himself.

Without hesitation, (Y/N) answered.

“Yes, if that’s what it takes.”

__

The walk from the Slytherin common room to Umbridge’s office was a somber one, a death march almost. (Y/N) knew the only reason she had truly gotten a detention was for the matter of fairness, an oversight on Umbridge’s part. Perhaps she regretted not giving (Y/N) a slew of detentions like the rest of Dumbledore’s Army, or maybe she wanted to throw her down a peg, show her who was truly in charge. Regardless, the punishment was impending and forthcoming.

“Ms. (L/N), I’m so happy you could join me,” Umbridge sang, meeting (Y/N) at the foot of the stairs. “Please, if you will,” her hand beckoned to the top of the stairs, leading (Y/N) into the disgustingly pink vomit the Headmistress called an office. “You’ll be doing some lines for me, you can find all the materials you need on the desk I’ve set up for you.”

Upon the creaking desk, (Y/N) noted as she sat down, were a roll of parchment and a single quill. “No ink?”

“You won’t need any ink,” Umbridge smiled, nodding to the quill. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my quills from Mr. Potter, is that correct?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Harry and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms,” (Y/N) said, lifting the quill upward. “How am I to write?”

“Trust the quill, write as you normally would,” Umbridge said, tapping her spoon against the pale pink teacup on her desk. “I want you to write ‘I will obey authority’,” the woman motioned to the paper. “Try it out.”

(Y/N) tapped the quill to the parchment, almost as a test. No ink bled through. (Y/N) thought for a moment that perhaps the quill was much like those ‘fountain pens’ she had seen some muggle-born students use, the ink trapped inside the body of the pen. It didn’t seem to be the case. Hesitant, she began to sprawl the words onto the paper, red ink appearing in place of her scratching. A burning sensation itched the back of her other hand, almost like a cat scratch. (Y/N) thought nothing of it.

“How many times?”

“Fill the entire page, my dear, front to back,” Umbridge sang sweetly, taking another sip of her tea. “The quill will know if you’ve began to write larger to fill the extra gaps and erase the entirety of your work,” she smiled.

(Y/N) began to write again, the same size as the line before. Again, the burning sensation seared onto the back of her other hand, causing (Y/N) to finally look down. Almost an exact copy of her words were scratched into the flesh of her hand, flared as pink as the walls. Another glance at the ‘ink’ that had been flowing out of the quill and (Y/N) connected the dots instantly.

“This is barbaric,” (Y/N) mumbled, continuing to sprawl the lines. The witch sitting at the desk across from (Y/N) must’ve heard her, for she let out a small laugh. The student continued to write the lines, over and over, filling the space with what she could. She set the quill down for just a moment, to relieve the pain in her hand.

“No, no,” Umbridge clicked. “Continue.” Hesitantly, (Y/N) began again, the words cutting into her like a hot iron, branding the back of her hand with every pass of the quill.

__

Two hours had passed and (Y/N) began writing the last of her lines, successfully filling the page, front to back, like requested. (Y/N) pressed the last period onto the page with such vigor, the tip pierced the paper. She stood up, careful to hide her shaking and passed the parchment to Umbridge, who was currently on her seventh cup of tea.

“Good,” Umbridge said, scanning the paper. “I take it the message has sunk in?” She pointed her doe-like eyes up towards the student. (Y/N) nodded. “Shame you had to re-start a few times, but that’s the price you pay when things aren’t orderly, hm?”

“Of course, Headmistress.”

“Outstanding. Enjoy your evening, Ms. (L/N),” Umbridge waved towards the door, ushering (Y/N) to leave. “Oh, and do remember your place, dear. Many would kill to be in a position like yours,” the Headmistress giggled, the tone echoing through (Y/N)’s head like rock to a window.

“Good night,” (Y/N) bowed as she exited the room. For whatever reason, (Y/N) felt hot, like the heat from her hand radiated throughout her entire body. Was it a side effect to the barbaric quill? (Y/N) couldn’t be too sure, this feeling was one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something was building, something dark, something that needed release. Walking back to her dorm, (Y/N) caught a look at the moon from the hall, finally feeling herself crack. Settling down on the windowsill, (Y/N) allowed her mind to wander, trying to focus her thoughts on something, anything, else rather than the pain coming from her hand. 

It was then that Draco saw her, sitting alone, staring at the moon. He had been patrolling for Umbridge that evening, hoping to break up any unsightly students participating in illegal activities. He hadn’t imagined running into (Y/N) this late into the night, surely her detention couldn’t have gone that long, right?

“(Y/N)…?” Draco asked quietly, approaching (Y/N) carefully. Had he ever done that before?

(Y/N) whipped her head around, finding none other than Draco Malfoy staring at her, a worried expression painted his features. “Draco,” (Y/N) sniffled, pressing the heel of her palm to her nose. “What’re you doing here? Trying to gain brownie points with the wicked witch?”

“Always,” Draco quipped, feeling a pang in his chest. Something didn’t feel right. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s past curfew.”

“What’re you going to do? Take away some house points? Snape would have your head,” (Y/N) said, voice like acid. “Go on, bet you don’t have the guts.”

“I’m not going to take any house points, I’m not an idiot,” Draco rolled his eyes, walking closer to the girl. “Are you alright?” Draco asked, his voice growing softer.

“Like you care,” (Y/N) quipped, watching her friend stand squarely in front of her, weight shifting to one hip. His eyes seemed gentle, somehow softened in the moonlight. “But no, obviously I’m not okay, Draco,” she flung her arms out, circling them lightly. “I wouldn’t be on the verge of tears if I was alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry—”

“And you never will,” (Y/N) said, hopping down from the ledge, pushing Draco away. “I don’t cry and I certainly won’t let you have the pleasure of seeing it.”

Draco grabbed ahold of her jumper sleeve, stopping her from taking another step. “Will you stop being so thick and just talk to me?” Her shoulder loosened, arm falling. “Please?”

“I had detention,” (Y/N) said, not turning around. “I’m sure you’ve heard from your lackeys. That’s why I’m out so late.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” (Y/N) shrugged, finally pulling her arm away, turning towards Draco. “She didn’t do anything to me. I deserved it.”

“Deserved what?” He asked, glancing down at (Y/N)’s hands, she was holding one tightly, as if she didn’t want Draco to see. “(Y/N), what did she have you do?”

It was in that moment that (Y/N) snapped. Something inside of her broke open like a thousand glass jars. Suddenly, (Y/N) felt hot tears stream down her face as she removed her hand from atop the other, the scratched flesh shining in the moonlight. Draco grabbed it quickly, running his thumb over the raised wound.

“‘I will obey authority’?” Draco asked, looking closer at the scratches. It looked to be in (Y/N)’s handwriting, he’d recognize it anywhere. The wound looked to be healing, hardly would leave much of a scar, thankfully. “She made you do this?

(Y/N) nodded quickly, rubbing the edges of her sleeve around the bottoms of her eyes, trying to soak the tears up quickly. “I’m pathetic,” (Y/N) croaked, laughing lightly. “Crying, in the middle of the corridor. Godric, I never cry in public—”

“You’re not pathetic,” Draco shook his head, releasing her hand. “I’ve never seen you cry before, even when you broke your arm that one summer,” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Fell right out of the jacaranda tree, right on top of me.”

(Y/N) sniffled, fighting a giggle. “You told me I couldn’t climb to the top,” another sniffle. “I wanted to prove you wrong.”

“You did,” Draco nodded, sitting down on the windowsill, patting the empty space next to him. (Y/N) followed close behind. “Climbed to the top like a monkey. Never should’ve doubted you.”

“No,” (Y/N) smiled. “You should never doubt me,” she rolled her sleeve up, pointing at a scar on her elbow, roughly the length of a sickle. “Still have the proof of the cut from your stupid ring—”

“Hey, you know I never meant to cut you,” Draco said, his voice raising. “I stopped wearing that ring after you fell onto it—”

“Fell onto it? You scratched me!”

“I was trying to help,” Draco laughed, amused at (Y/N)’s serious face. “Your arm looked horrific, I tried to help you up.”

“You did stay with me until my mum noticed our screaming,” (Y/N) smiled, recalling the frantic horror on her mother’s face. “You were rather sweet.”

“I’m always sweet—”

“Bullshit,” (Y/N) laughed, finally feeling her sinuses clear, a breath of fresh air filling her lungs. “You? Draco Lucius Malfoy, are not always sweet,” she laughed again.

“I have my moments,” Draco hummed. “When necessary, of course.”

“Right, can’t let anyone see the hardened Malfoy actually care about someone else, can we?” (Y/N) said, pushing Draco slightly to the side. “Sorry, for crying, I mean. I don’t normally cry in front of other people. I don’t know what came over me, I bet I look like a real idiot—”

“No,” Draco said, much too quickly. “You don’t. A bit puffy, but not an idiot.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” (Y/N) laughed, tentatively resting her head on Draco’s shoulder. She felt him stiffen for a moment, but ultimately relaxing into the touch. “I don’t know what it is, but even though you infuriate the hell out of me,” her eyes flicked up towards the Slytherin. “It’s… calming to be around you, safe. Like the summers under the jacaranda tree.”

“Is it?” Draco hummed, snaking his arm around the girl, holding her close. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly on his shoulder, wriggling herself closer.  “I think I understand.”

“We didn’t have to worry about stupid cliques, stupid blood-purity, what others thought of us,” (Y/N) said, her fingers playing with the ends of her jumper, the tips occasionally touching her healing wound. “We were young, only had to worry about one another. I wish it could be the same as before.”

“It can be,” Draco said, truthfully. 

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head. “I don’t think it can quite be the same as before, considering…”

“Considering, what?”

(Y/N) looked up at Draco, her eyes meeting his own. “Considering I’m helplessly in love with you, Draco Malfoy.”

“W-what?” 

“Oh please,” (Y/N) scoffed, pulling away from Draco. “I’ve known it for a while, I reckon. I only really looked at how I felt today,” (Y/N) laughed. “You’ll hate it, but talking with Hermione helped me realize it. Seeing your face, after everything I had to endure tonight… it just sort of clicked, you know?”

“You’re right,” Draco scoffed. “I do hate that you’re bringing that filthy mud—” (Y/N) shot him a look, an icy cool glare. “I do hate that you’re bringing up that nasty Gryffindor,” Draco corrected, noting (Y/N)’s slight relaxation in her posture.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) smiled, quite pleased at his change of vocabulary. She really despised that slang, the filth of the word never sat right with (Y/N). “Everything just feels right when I’m with you. Like I’m always going to be safe, be okay, even when I know it won’t.”

“It’s about time you realized it,” Draco smiled, puffing his chest. “I’ve only been trying to get you to see that for five years now.”

“Wow, I confess my love for you and all you go and do is boast about yourself?” (Y/N) laughed. “Honestly, I should’ve seen this coming.”

“You really should’ve,” Draco said, hugging (Y/N) tighter into his side. “I’m just a bit upset, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“I was going to ask you out, proper,” Draco said, rubbing (Y/N)’s arm. “Be the first one to say it. But of course you went and ruined my great plan—”

“Did it involve loads of flowers?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, you still haven’t said it,” (Y/N) said, hopping off the window. “You have time to make it up to me.”

“(Y/N), that’s crazy, can’t I just say that I love—”

“Nope!” (Y/N) stuck fingers in her ears, humming loudly. “Can’t hear you, doesn’t count!”

Draco laughed, truly laughed, a feeling he only ever felt with (Y/N). Her words had rang true in his heart, surely. He had known about his fondness for his friend for a while, practically since first year. While he loathed her choice in friends, part of him envied the openness of her heart and mind. He would never say that out loud, of course.

“Fine,” Draco said, hopping off the window, standing in front of (Y/N). His hands moved to grab her wrists, gently pulling them away from her head, lacing his fingers with hers. “I won’t say it, then,” quickly, before (Y/N) could react, Draco’s lips were on hers, but only for a fraction of a second. A feather-light touch.

“W-what?” (Y/N) mumbled, stunned. The pink in her cheeks seeping up to her ears.

“What? Want me to kiss you proper?” Draco smirked, ignoring the dusting on his own cheeks, surely. “Guess you’ll have to wait.”

Draco Malfoy was indeed going to be the death of (Y/N) (L/N), but damn, was it going to be worth the fight. 

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[soaronmywings]

Burro (Coco x Reader)

A/N: So this is a little OOC for Coco, but I honestly just went with the song. I feel like it gives it more drama this way. But at the same time, seeing what he did to his own mother, I could see him behaving like this (especially with what happened to him at the end of Season 2). And I swear that I don’t write this kinda stuff all the time even though it may seem like it.

Warnings: Angst. Drama. Toxicity, Language for sure. Degrading. Violence. POSSIBLE SPOILERS.

Inspired by this song~

I've been a mess since you stayed

I've been a wreck since you changed

The phone calls began to get shorter. His visits became sparse. The light that once shined in his eyes dimmed, before eventually completely disappearing. You began to gradually decompensate. Thinking everything was your fault. You weren’t even sure how to feel when after two weeks of no contact, he walked into your apartment like nothing happened, lathered in the blood of a man whose name you would never know. When you tried to ask what happened, if he was okay, how you could help, he shut you out.

That’s Coco for you. You never knew what side of him to prepare for, although these days you could almost always await a fight or even worse nothing at all. Coco becomes a turtle when he doesn’t want to interact with people. He pulls away, tucking himself away into his safe protective shield of silence. What the fuck happened to the two of you?

“What the fuck Johnny?” Why did I have to hear that this-” You pointed to the patch over his eye and the burn covering his arm. “- happened, from fucking Creeper of all people? Do you think I wouldn’t give a shit, huh?” Your arms crossed over your chest in a defensive state. He sits on your couch, not paying attention to a damn thing that you’re saying, just smoking his cigarette like he always does.

Don't let me get in your way

I miss the lies and the pain

The fights that keep us awake

I'm telling you

“I don't know why I try anymore. Not like you do, pendejo (stupid). Just get out of my house. Take your shit with you too. I’m fucking done Coco.” You scoffed and walked away from his sedentary demeanor. You had enough. The constant fights, not knowing anything, and getting treated like a damn landlord. The two of you haven’t even touched each other with an ounce of love in months. He comes back to your house, and crashes in your bed. He never made it a point of making his space a shared space, so you didn’t either. This was your house, giving you all the power in the world to kick his ass out.

“What the fuck you want me to do Y/N? You wan’ me to come here and spill all my shit at your feet? You want me to tell you how this-” he pointed to his eye in pure rage “-happened? No. That’s not what I do.” He rose to his feet as stalked over to you. You knew something was up as of late, but you never expected him to become this ferocious with you. Never expected for him to get nose to nose with you like this.

I miss the bad things

The way you hate me

I miss the screaming

The way that you blame me

“Yes Johnny. I know this isn’t ‘’what you do’ ‘ight? But maybe if you didn’t sit and drown yourself in booze, weed, and self pity every hour of every goddamn day you’d realize that you don’t have to do this alone! I’m not asking you for a fucking itinerary, burro (Jackass).” you placed your hands on either shoulder and pushed him back.

Coco’s eyes went dark as he locked his hand on your wrist and whipped you around, pinning your arm behind your back and pushed your face into the white wall. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to puta (Bitch)? Huh? Because you best not be talking to me that way.” His fingernails dug into your wrist as he shoved you deeper into the wall.

“Get the fuck off of me you stupid son of a bitch.” You sneered at him, venom dripping off of your tongue, thrashing against his grip. All you got from him was a sinister laugh, before shoving you into the ground. “Watch your mouth, perra (Slut). I’m sick of your shit.” He spit at you, making you see red.

Miss the phone calls

When it's your fault

I miss the late nights

Don't miss you at all

You stood up in fumes, balling up his shirt into your fists and socked him right in the jaw. “This what you fucking wanted Johnny?-” Your connection to his jaw sent him back a couple steps, giving you the chance to land another jab in his ribs. “-This the only way you can feel something?” The rib shot caused him to go breathless, hunching forward. You figured that he would get the hint and just leave.

But boy, were you wrong.

You turned around to retreat into your room, but Coco grabbed you by your hair and yanked you backwards. His free hand wrapping around your throat, propelling you into the hardwood floors. He lifted your head up just barely, before pushing you back down, causing a rather painful blow to the head. He raised his hand and gave you a powerful backhand across your cheek, a dangerous, bloody grin spread across his face.

I like the kick in the face

And the things you do to me

I love the way that it hurts

I don't miss you, I miss the misery

“Get the fuck out. Now. I never want to see your face again.” You seethed as you took your free hands and tried to push him off of you by his neck. He took his hand and wacked you again.

Your vision started to go black, and you dug your nails into his neck in response. Johnny hissed in pain, increasing his pressure as he stood up, jerking you back into the floor. “Estúpida puta de mierda. (Stupid fucking bitch)” He gathered his bloody spit in his mouth before spitting on you, leaving his blood splattered across your face.

“You get your wish bitch, one thing you forgot to add is how i’m ‘bout to go drown myself in pussy too.” He snickered as he swaggered toward your front door. You scoffed as he walked away. “Not the only one with options douchebag.” You spat back.

This entire encounter, while it may have been a little more extreme than normal, it wasn’t completely dumbfounding. You two always had a love hate sort of relationship. You would scream, yell, and say some pretty awful shit to each other, but normally ended up back in each other’s arms before daybreak. This time though, something felt different. It was the end of his and your ropes, making this fight that much more explosive. 

“Makes sense. Eres un tornillo fácil. (You’re an easy screw)” His words stung.You grabbed the nearest item in your immediate vicinity, and threw it in his direction. “Keep walking Cruz. Hope you get HPV!” You called after him after he slammed the door shut behind him.