#used to just thinking of myself as a quiet person with a loud brain but actually no. I want to be loud so bad

[straightfacedstrangeness]

“I probably only feel these Special Interests so intensely and obsessively because I self-consciously repress myself from talking about em, if I was able to really talk about em I might lose steam and just stop caring” VS “if I was able to really talk about em I could easily become the most insufferable person you’ve ever met”

[adventuringblind]

Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.

[performing-personhood]

I learned a kind of funny thing and I need to tell you bc it's important, cmere. Lean in so the others can't hear okay?

Ok so like

I know that the reason we are the way we are is because at some point we took up some space - as people do - and someone turned to us and went "whoa, excuse you! What do you think you're doing" or something, right? And they were, like, surprised and offended that we took up space and told us to stay real small and subservient? And we were pretty young, you and me, and we didn't really grok Peopling yet and so we assumed that everyone else was going to have that expectation too?

Okay I just learned: that isn't true at all, that person was just an asshole.

Babe. BABE. This is big.

Ok do you realize ??? that most people when they're around someone - anyone, this is important, it's an unconscious reflex and happens rather automatically - and that person is like "I have an opinion and desires and also some needs and I am going to express them openly" Did you realize, because I didn't, that most people completely intuitively go "oh! There's another person here! Lemme just scootch over so they fit better :)" PEOPLE MAKE ROOM FOR YOU.

People don't ignore us, when we're silently having wants and needs and waiting our turn to be noticed, they just have similar very loud brains and have no idea because beung corporeal is Distracting™️. Not only do people just need a reminder that you're there, they're totally happy to accomodate. In a distinctly "ope! My bad, lemme just- here-" sort of way.

My spouse has a loud brain and drowns it out with Mario Kart. I've spent most of my life quietly entertaining myself in all of these instances, because at some point someone told me I was supposed to "go play" and nobody wanted to play with me so I entertained myself right? Okay. Well I recently had a sea change and decided I was gonna pop my headphones in and watch TV on my tablet when he was doing his Mario Karting. Because the boy will easily go for four hours and I just spontaneously realized that it would actually be ridiculous if he got butthurt at me for putting some quiet tv on for myself instead of watching a grown man play the same video game for hours.

You know what happened? Not only did nobody's feelings get hurt, but I have never made it more than twenty minutes into a show before he ends a match and switches the console off. And I have never asked him to do so. When I'm over there doing my own thing with my own TV show like a person instead of just scrolling on my phone trying real hard not to exist, somewhere in his unconscious he goes "there's a whole other human being on the other end of the sofa from me. I want to turn this off and engage with that person!"

Okay do you understand what I am telling you??

When you behave like a human person and treat yourself like a human person, other people also instinctively treat you like a human person and they're happy to be reminded that they get to engage with you. The person in our past that reacted differently and got mad at us for being a person, plainly and simply: they were just being an asshole to us.

The people we love want to engage with us. Almost all of them!!! And not only that?? Most other human beings feel the same way.

Huge. Big huge.

Don't take my word for it baby cakes okay, take a sec and muster up the courage (it'll be scary the first time, but the thinking about it is always scarier than doing it I swear) and then get back out there and practice being your very own human person occupying human people space, around someone who loves you, and just... watch what happens. The first time someone warmly, graciously, voluntarily accommodates you is the greatest feeling a corporeal being can experience, and you deserve it too.

[izukusjuicythighs]

bkdk fics i read because was it ever casual

Horikoshi keeps feeding us bkdk crumbs like wtf??at this point they HAVE to be canon bkdk hospital kiss confirmed I was izukus freckle ALSO IM KINDA IN A BLOCK RN whenever I finish a fic my yappin brain always has something to say but rn its real quiet so uh🤡

left me no choice(but to stay here forever)

summary: Izuku learns early on in life that the people he loves will always leave him.

So when Kacchan asks him to be his boyfriend, Izuku kisses him and starts grieving for the inevitable.

words: 6,925

chapters: 3/4(updating)

notes: im quite aware that its a bitchy move to inflict pain on ppl but jm gonna do it anyways lol READ THIS AND WEEP I literally wanted to gorge my heart out and then slap all of my love into izuku idk it evokes complicated feelings??normally hate reading unfinished fics BUT THIS!!gave me a life changing experience within 7000words dammit

be my good luck charm

summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest traveling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

words: 6785

chapters: 1/1

notes: cute lil oneshot for yall cuz mha fans r in dire need of fluff rn yknow why🤭 how to date a hottie101 by bkg: set ur crush on fire to show ur undying love(WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN)

Barberries and Variegated Knotweeds

summary: The Fight Another Day Agreement is a required legal document for all professional heroes. In the event of a life-threatening injury and the hero and their proxies are unable to respond on their behalf, medical professionals may do whatever it takes to keep the hero alive.

For Izuku, whatever it takes means removing flowers from his lungs, forcing him to forget about the love of his life. The aftermath leaves Izuku bewildered at the sight of a man with spiky blond hair and red eyes the color of Japanese barberries.

words: 19,286

chapters: 4/4

notes: YET ANOTHER HANAHAKI FIC WITH IZUKU WHUMP I just love seeing my favs go through it🤠I've read so many hanahaki fics ud think I'd be used to it but NOPE THIS SHIT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT was ready to downgrade 1 dimension to solve this shitstorm myself

If It's You

summary: “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

words: 16,863

chapters: 1/1

notes: 10 things I hate about you but make it bkdk I LOVE THIS SHIT angsty dramatic misunderstanding high school aus are my JAM also somewhat gives off from the sidelines vibes so if ur into that defo read

Down the Red Line

summary: His mom is the first person to know about it. She finds out when Izuku asks ( in a very cute three-year-old way) why can’t he see the red line that connected him to Kacchan in the last picture they've taken. The one where they were about to enter Kindergarten on their first day.

"Red line?"

"Yeah, Mamma. This," Little Izuku says, raising his pinky finger to show her the thing tied to it.

Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

words: 7,804

chapters: 1/1

notes: one of my absolute favs since 2021 MAKES ME SO FUKCIN MAD I have to put my phone down and contemplate life for a few mjns while reading it but it's so good??my red string is tied to thjs fic pls

[dameronology]

couples therapy (frank castle)

summary: you go to couple's therapy with frank castle. it's just as terrible as you can imagine.

warnings: so much language. at least 10 f-bombs.

enjoy xx

Couples therapy felt like a stupid fucking idea, to be honest.

There was only three feet between you and Frank; you wanted to be closer but at the same time, you wanted to drop kick his loud-talking, argumentative, defensive ass to the other side of the city. No, scratch that. The country, or maybe even world. Somewhere far enough so that you didn't have to look at his stupid face but somewhere close enough that you could still reach out for him in the night. Somewhere far enough so that you couldn't hear that gravelly voice that made your skin crawl, but somewhere close enough so that he could still whisper horny sweet nothings in your ear.

And it was thoughts like that that made you realise why you were here.

There had been a few weeks of tension; that had grown into two months of shit bubbling under the surface. You were mad at him. He was mad at you. You couldn't bring it up because he'd accuse you of overreacting and he couldn't bring it up because even before all the PTSD-causing-crap he'd lived through, Frank was shit at coming to terms with how he felt about things. Vocalising his emotions wasn't his strongpoint. Revenge and killing was. So, safe to say that this was his personal form of hell. Anyways. That shit had hit the fan eventually and now it was splattered all over the room and it was covering you both and no matter how many metaphorical showers you took, nothing would fix this except the clean slate that emotional catharsis would bring you.

Maybe you'd break up. Maybe you'd stay together. Maybe it was all up to the gaunt, old man in the chair opposite you who reminded you a little too much of John Kramer and was draining $50 an hour from your bank right now. Did they do Groupons for couples therapy?

"So," he began. His name was Doctor Richards. He was a little too quiet for your liking. "Tell me...why are you here?"

Frank let out a gruff laugh. "Isn't that what you're here to tell us, Doc?"

"No, actually," he shook his head. "You explain your problems to me and I'll give you reasonable solutions to try and fix those problems."

There was a moment of silence, and Doctor Richards glanced at you.

"Is he always this defensive?"

It was your turn to laugh now.

"Uhhh, not always," you replied. "Not with me, at least. More so with other people."

"So he's more open with you?" the doctor raised his eyebrows, but then glanced between you. "Emotional vulnerability is a good sign. A sign of life - of course, unless, this has changed over the course of your relationship."

"It hasn't," Frank firmly said. "I laid myself bare the day we met. That hasn't changed."

"He's right," you nodded. "I just...I think you have a hard time articulating your feelings, Frank. Sometimes when you do open up to me, it turns into an argument."

"That's bullshit," Frank muttered.

You cleared your throat and turned to look back at your relationship saviour. "We're here because we argue too fucking much, doc. If I say nothing, he gets mad. If I respond, I'm overreacting-"

"- because you do overreact!" he interrupted you.

"Maybe because you never let me fucking talking talk!" you snapped.

"Guys!" Richards cut you both off. "This is a safe space and I'm going to give you both a chance to talk. That's how you get to the bottom of things."

You glanced at Frank. "Can I go first?"

"Yes."

Shuffling uncomfortably in your seat, you glanced down at your hands and cleared your throat. There was so much on your mind but a complete disconnect between your brain and your mouth; translating your thoughts into feelings was hard at the best of times, but even harder under pressure. You didn't want to say something to upset Frank, even less to hurt him.

"I..." you trailed off. "I've always been someone who likes to talk about things, you know? I like to communicate, especially with the people I love, so I'm always open when something upsets me or doesn't feel right. Conversation is important to me but I think you're different, Frank. You like to think and not feel and when you refuse to talk to me about shit, it hurts. It's like you can open up to me about all your feelings except the ones about me and in my mind,. those are the most important ones."

Frank didn't respond; he just looked at you.

"For someone that chats so much shit, you sure seem to keep quiet on a lot of things," you continued, voice dropping to a murmur now. "I'm not overreacting when I respond the way I do. It's just fucking frustrating."

He looked away, brown eyes staring blankly at the wall behind Richards for a moment. That was the first time in the better part of three years that you's actually seen Frank quiet.

(Save for when he was sleeping, and the time he almost died in the middle of your living room).

"I like to keep certain things quiet," Frank finally spoke. His eyes flickered from the wall, down to your new therapist. "I work a night job, doc. It gets stressful. I deal with some heavy shit."

"It's an overused saying, but a problem halved is a problem shared," Richards replied. "You have a partner who is willing to listen. One who I assume knows their threshold, and would tell you if sharing it was too much."

"He's right," you said. "When you shut me out and bottle it up, it builds up, and then you get shitty with me and it manifests itself in every part of your life. Of our lives. Because we're intertwined as shit, Frank, and you can't pick and choose what parts you share with me."

Frank sniffed. "Well, hell. Look at us breaking ground."

"A lot of people come into couple therapy assuming it means their relationship is over," Richards said. "That's almost never the case. It shows you're both willing to work on it."

Your eyes fell to the floor for a moment. Frank had been strangely willing to come here; it wasn't something you'd thought about too much before now, but his willingness felt like hope to you. This time a few years ago, he would have walked away at the first sign of trouble. Now he wanted to take your hand and walk towards it.

"I can't tell you about all your problems based entirely on this conversation, but I can...I can share some introspection from a third party perspective," Richards said. "Frank, you have a partner whose willing to listen, but...maybe they go about saying it in the wrong way. Maybe it feels forced, or like they're not letting you do it on their own terms."

"I guess," Frank murmured. "What if I don't want to share? What if...what if I just want to protect them from all this dark shit?"

"You can choose what you share," he replied. "But if you choose not to share, you have to communicate that."

--

The apartment was tense when you and Frank got back. It had been a tense two hours; talks of communication and honesty, of sharing your lives and being partners. It had been okay for the first hour, but as soon as you hit the second you felt like you'd kind of gotten the point. You and Frank weren't the worst couple in the world, and couple therapy was fucking boring. That had been your main take away.

You threw your keys on the side, dumping your jacket as you entered the flat. Everything was as you left it; washing up from breakfast in the sink, pile of boots by the door, a letter pinned on your notice board about an increase in rent. All things that were headaches in themselves, but simply just contributing factors to a bigger, ongoing migraine. Frank was behind you, dragging his feet and huffing.

"Something you want to share, Frankie?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

"That felt like bullshit."

You snorted. "I felt like I was being listened to for the first time in months. Maybe that speaks volumes."

"Oh, come on," he rolled his eyes. "How are we leavin' couples therapy and you're already having a go at me?"

"Sorry," you murmured. "Honestly, Frank, I'm just fucking frustrated. I've said all I need to say but...whether or not you wanna listen and actually work on it is what counts."

"Are you dumb?" Frank asked, but quickly regretted his choice of words. "Shit. Baby, I'm sorry - I didn't mean it like that-"

"- how the fuck did you mean it then, Franklin?"

He paused, holding his hands out for a moment. "I just sat in a cramped room with some Jigsaw lookin' motherfucker for the better part of two hours, listening to you complain - rightfully so, don't get me wrong - and tryna take notes on how I can be a better partner to you. Maybe it's not obvious, and maybe it won't be for hot a fuckin' minute, not until I've got my ducks in a line, or just shot em all, but just...I will try, okay? I need you to be patient with me but..."

Frank took your hand, placing your palm on his chest. He covered it with his own large one, tangling your fingers together and pausing for a moment.

"I need patience...please?"

You nodded, letting him squeeze your hand. "Yeah. Shit, Frankie, I'm sorry. I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too."

"We'll be okay, won't we?"

"Of course we will."

[thevillagequeer]

yeah i'm gonna say this once

obsession and addiction are two sides of the same coin. hell, two halves of the same side of the same coin

as someone with OCD and with many loved ones and friends with OCD and other related neurodivergencies (yes OCD is a neurodivergency) and mental illnesses, i have been cautious both about the possible germaphobe/thanatophobe Klaus storyline and of the fans' reactions to just the possibility.

first of all, TUA has a habit of taking Klaus' reactions to trauma (addiction, attention seeking, EVERYTHING) and making them to be season long gags instead of treating them seriously. i have been a fierce critic of this the entire show, and am now especially weary.

secondly though, the idea that he would sway into these thought patterns is not at all out of character, or out of psychiatric or neurological sense. addiction is obsession. why do you think folks with OCD have rituals they must do for a moment's relief?

and one's fears and obsessions can overlap and contradict and make no sense to the person or the world.

think of it like this-- every thought is like one note, one beat of music. obsessions are like blaring sirens, constant, loud, unbearable, but also alerting every bone in your body to *fix the problem.* Soothe the pain. Make it quiet.

and when you factor in the fact that the often ignored OCD trait are intrusive thoughts. terrifying, outrageous, involuntary thoughts that shake you to your core, tied to your deepest fears and shames and terrors.

For Klaus, the ghosts were like a tangible portrayal of this cognitive loop folks with these obsessive thought patterns have. I know from the moment I saw how he used music and substances and ANYTHING to block them out, I recognized myself in him, my battle with my intrusive thoughts in the constant fight of overpowering the noise with more noise.

and the thing about OCD, about obsessive disorders, is that they are incredibly smart. the smartest, most emotionally intelligent and aware people have this disorder (not to call myself smart in this meta post lol), so it can twist and flex into whatever iteration causes the most reaction in your brain. it can flip and invert and probably, in fact i can basically guarantee, the switch from fearing the dead and the obsession with distraction and addiction to fearing sickness, harm and death and obession with cleanliness and health feels and sounds entirely logical and sound to klaus in his brain.

that's the thing with how we think, it all makes sense within our heads, even if there's a voice telling us its fucking crazy-- the ill part finds total logic, and the terrified part is just so, so, so relieved to have an inch of solace

[babydollmarauders]

SNOW ON THE BEACH — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List.

summary: in which shy, introverted y/n meets extroverted frat boy Luke and he takes a liking to her, even though everyone thinks they’re an odd match.

specific lyrics: “it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fuckin’ beautiful.”

notes: i really wanted frat boy Luke in order to really have them contrast each other, but i also didn’t wanna take away the hockey element or split up the UMich boys, so… Hockey House is a frat now. also, i don’t think i like this one, i feel like i could’ve done so much better but like halfway through writing this, my brain short-circuited and i couldn’t think of anything.

the library is packed. i should’ve expected it, with it being so close to finals week and all, but it still disappointed me nonetheless.

this was my favorite place to escape and read when my obnoxious dorm-mate had her friends over. it was quiet and usually pretty empty. so i could usually sit and read for a few hours until i was sure none of Alex’s friends were still there. none of them knew how to use an inside voice, and with our dorm just being one big room, they constantly thought that meant i would want to join in on their conversations. which were mainly gossip about the hockey team. so, coming in and finding every space in the library full, ruined my plans. i don’t want to go back to my dorm and be subjected to them debating which UMich hockey player has the cutest smile, so i guess that leaves me with one option; find a seat.

i let loose a sigh and scan the room for who seems to be the quietest. i hate small talk. i find a table with only one person sat at it, a guy with one airpod in and a textbook laid out in front of him, and decide that’s the one. i walk over, fully planning on just motioning to ask if i can sit, but when i come to a stop in front of the table and he doesn’t even look up, i know i’ll have to speak up. i take a deep breath before i let out the quietest ‘excuse me’ known to man. the boy still doesn’t look up from the textbook, and i don’t blame him, he probably didn’t even hear me.

“excuse me.” i say slightly louder. this time the boy finally looks up, but i’m struck on what to say. suddenly, all the mentally rehearsed words have left my mind. this may be the cutest boy i have ever seen.

“can i help you?” his voice is soft. not judgmental or rude like what i would’ve expected from him after i came over and interrupted his studying just to end up staring at him. i shake myself out of my thoughts and give a light nod.

“do you mind if i sit here?” i motion towards a chair diagonal from his. “everywhere else is full.”

the boy nods.

“oh, yeah, go ahead.” i give him a small and grateful smile before depositing myself in the chair. pulling my book and a few highlighters out from my tote bag before hanging it up on the back of my chair. i open my book to where i left off, setting the bookmark on the table. but before i can start reading, the boy speaks up again.

“sorry to interrupt but, you’re reading that for a class?” he asks. for some reason, i take a look at the front cover of my romance novel before talking.

“oh. no. i’m reading this for fun.” i tell him. my voice is quite, my tone soft.

“oh okay. i guess i just assumed you were here to study since everyone else is.” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he shrugs.

“no.” i shake my head before explaining- “i’m here to get away from my dorm-mate and her friends. they’re too loud for me to focus and they keep trying to get me to weigh in on their debates.”

“what are they debating?” he asks.

“well, when i left it was which Wolverines hockey player has the cutest smile.” i tell him, rolling my eyes.

“and who did you say?” he seems curious, and almost amused.

“no one.” i shrug. “i don’t know what any of them look like.”

he lets out a quiet laugh.

“well you know what one of them looks like now.” he says. my brows form a v and i’m about to ask him to clarify but then it hits me. oh. he’s a hockey player.

“oh.” is my awkward response.

“i’m Luke Hughes.” he smiles at me. well, i have my answer for the next debate now.

“i’m y/n.” i tell him. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” he finally looks back down at his textbook, and i’m relieved to be free of any more small talk.

the next hour or so passes by silently, and i manage to finish the last 75 pages of my book without any interruptions. i close my book, and put my stuff back in my tote bag, at the same time that an alarm goes off on Luke’s phone. he turns it off and starts packing his stuff up as well. we stand simultaneously, and he sends me a quick amused expression. my steps to the exit are slow, and Luke falls in line with me, slowing his steps to match mine.

“my frat is having a party on Friday, you should come. collect some more data for the next debate.” he smirks, and i rack my brain for a nice way to say that i don’t do parties.

“i’m not really a party person.” i say.

“then what kind of person are you?” he asks. his eyes fall down my body before he looks back up to my face.

“um, the reading type, i guess? i don’t really like doing the whole people thing.” i confess. he nods in understanding.

“well, if you change your mind, come. and if you need to escape your dorm again, i’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” he winks before splitting off, walking the opposite direction as me.

my entire walk to my dorm, i rethink every word we shared, wondering if i sounded stupid. i mean, i would assume not because he didn’t seem put off by me, but who knows, maybe he’s just a good actor. he was really cute though, gosh i hope i didn’t unknowingly embarrass myself.

opening the door to my dorm, i’m disappointed to see that Alex and her friends are still here. they don’t usually hang out this long on a wednesday evening. and i have to hold back an eye roll when i realize that it doesn’t sound they’ve changed their topic of conversation at all since i’ve left. logically, i’m sure it has and they just circled back onto this topic, but i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was all they were talking about the past couple hours.

“y/n! you didn’t answer before you left, so please, settle this for us!” one of them, Jess, says as she spots me. “which UMich hockey player has the best smile? i say Ethan Edwards, Alex says Rutger McGroarty, and Becca says Mark Estapa!”

my mind wanders back to the boy i was conversing with not too long ago and before i can think twice, i blurt out- “Luke Hughes.”

“you think so?” Becca asks “i feel like he rarely ever smiles. it’s so hard to get one out of him.”

“really?” i ask. they must be exaggerating, he smiled at me earlier. although, i think he was just being friendly.

“yeah! i have a class with him this semester and i swear he frowned at me when i tried to introduce myself. i mean, he’s still hot, but still.” Becca replies, shrugging.

“oh.” i say. what does that mean? if he wasn’t friendly to her when they met, then why would he smile and be friendly with me?

“oooh y/n is blushing! i think she likes him!” Alex coos.

“i don’t like him.” i turn away, letting my hair fall in front of me to hide my apparently pink cheeks. i set my tote bag on my desk chair and slip my shoes off before taking a seat on my bed.

“i think she does!” Jess joins in on the teasing, and now i’m regretting having left the solitude of the library. “a bit of an odd match, you two.”

i’m not sure whether i should be offended by her statement or not, but for some reason i am. i don’t plan on dating him, but hearing her say we wouldn’t match together makes me feel insulted.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i retort.

“she didn’t mean anything by it.” Alex defends her friend. “she’s just saying, Luke is an extrovert, he likes to party and let loose, he has a lot of friends. and you’re… the opposite. i don’t think i’ve seen you go out once in the entire school year that we’ve shared a room. you keep to yourself. like, we’ve been trying to include you so that you’re not lonely, but you always say you’re going to the library. you and Luke just don’t seem like you’d fit together.”

“i didn’t ask you to include me. i like being alone. people are draining.” i say. i don’t like their pity on me. it’s not like i don’t have friends. i do. we’re just all introverted and our hangouts between classes is enough social interaction for us. we don’t care for going out partying on weekends or anything. if we do want to hang out on the weekend, we’ll usually do a movie night at Casey and Ellie’s apartment. but the way Alex explains it makes my life sound pitiful, and it makes me defensive, so before i can stop myself, i speak again. “and for your information, i’m going to a party on friday.”

the trio gasps, as though this information is scandalous.

“oh my god, are you going the party at Hockey House?” Becca asks. ‘hockey house’, the nickname for the frat house in which most of the UMich hockey players live. the frat is comprised solely of hockey players, so i guess the nickname makes sense. “for Luke?”

“yes, i’m going to the party. but no, not for Luke.” i tell them. why did i say i was going to that party? i hate parties. i even already told Luke so.

**

friday evening has come, and i can’t even back out of going to the party because Alex, Becca, and Jess have decided we should carpool together. so now i’m stuck in this commitment.

when Becca and Jess arrive to pick Alex and i up, i become aware that i’m the only one not wearing a dress or skirt of some kind. instead i’m dressed casual, in jeans and a tank top, paired with an oversized cardigan to keep me protected from the evening breeze. but it’s too late to change now.

arriving to the party is a hassle on its own, with the girls fussing over whether they look good enough to bag a hockey player, and having a hard time finding a parking spot. and when we finally walk into the party, i immediately want to leave. music is blasting from multiple speakers, everyone is holding a stereotypical red solo cup, and the house is packed. i’m quickly forgotten about by the other girls, them walking off to get drinks and stop to have conversations with a few of the hockey guys. i still don’t actually know any of the players names, besides Luke.

i scan the room, but i’m not entirely sure what i’m looking for. or who. all my friends are probably laying in bed right now. before i can even figure out who i’m looking for, i hear my name being called.

“y/n!” i turn my head towards the voice and find a guy from my ‘intro to business’ class coming towards me. i think his name is Dylan, but it seems like everyone just calls him Duke. “never seen you at a party before!”

“yeah, it’s not usually my scene.” i tell him with an awkward smile.

“i figured. you give me more of the ‘reading in my room’ vibes.” he laughs.

“am i that obvious?” i joke. he laughs again and nods.

“you look pretty out of place. let me introduce you to some of my friends.” he takes ahold of my wrist and pulls me towards a group of guys in the kitchen. i’m immediately uncomfortable, they all seem intimidating, and i’m not great around boys. we get closer to the group and Duke begins to introduce me. “guys, this is-”

“y/n! you came!” i look over to see Luke, and i can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when i see his wide grin. he slings an arm around my shoulders, and Duke’s jaw drops.

“THIS is the y/n you’ve been talking about? the one from the library?” Duke asks. i can feel my face heating up. he’s been talking about me? i hope he’s not saying anything bad about me.

“yup. this is my future girlfriend.” Luke exclaims, and i choke on my own spit.

what?! we barely know anything about each other! all i know is his name is Luke, he has the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen, and he plays hockey. pretty sure all he knows about me is my name and that i have an annoying roommate.

“hm. an odd match.” Duke ponders. there’s that phrase again! but now seeing Luke in his natural habitat, partying and joking with friends, and even just him being so confident, i can’t help but wonder if Duke and the girls are right. Luke and i do seem to contrast each other.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks defensively.

“hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing!” Duke rebuts. “you guys are just kinda… opposites of each other.”

“opposites attract.” Luke shrugs. i’m kind of confused. does my opinion matter? Luke seems pretty confident that i like him back.

“uh, Luke.” i speak up. he looks down at me where i’m still tucked into his side. “we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“when you know, you know.” he shrugs.

**5 YEARS LATER**

i stare up at my now husband from my seat beside him with watery eyes and a soft smile.

“and i told her, ‘when you know, you know.’” he looks back down at me from his standing position. “and i knew. from the first time we met, i knew this would be the girl i spend the rest of my life with.”

everyone in the reception hall claps as Luke ends his speech. he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“you got this, baby.” his hand clasps my shaky one and gives it a quick tight squeeze. i take one big deep breath and stand up, i hate public speaking, but i wrote my speech and i will read it.

“i didn’t know. well, at least not as quick as Luke.” a few people chuckle at that. “but what i do know, is that i went to my first party for him. which spoke volumes for me. and i thought he had the most amazing smile to ever exist.”

i look down at Luke and see the grin spread across his face.

“look, there it is!” i point to him as i look back at the reception hall full of our friends and family and everyone laughs. “i still think it’s the best smile, but i might be biased now. when we started dating, we had people calling us an odd match, i even had a friend compare us to ‘snow on the beach.’ she said we were ‘weird but beautiful.’”

“i used to think it was an insult, but now i look back and realize, our friends were right, we are an odd match.” i look back at Luke and now it’s my turn to smile. he takes ahold of my hand, squeezing it as a few tears roll down my cheeks. i finish my speech while maintaining eye contact with him. “but i like our differences, we balance each other out, and i can’t imagine what my life would be like if i hadn’t liked your confidence so much that night. i’m so grateful that i get to spend the rest of my life calling myself your wife.”

Luke stands, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a sweet, slow kiss. i can hear everyone clapping, and someone lets out a loud “WOOO!”

i can distinctly tell that was Jack, and it makes me interrupt the kiss with a giggle. Luke just takes that chance to pull back and pepper my face in pecks. blood rushes to my face at the thought of our family and friends watching him do this, but he doesn’t care. his confidence is a constant, no room for embarrassment.

yeah, maybe my friend was right; Luke and i are like snow on the beach. at first glance, we’re an unlikely duo, different in a lot of ways, but we make a great couple and our love is beautiful.

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!

tv show/movie: harry potter

pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader

requested

part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!

description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic

warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!

note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.

taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss

a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

  The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves. 

  “And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup. 

  Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game. 

  Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting. 

  “Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed. 

  They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd. 

  His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them. 

  She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..  

  “It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively. 

  “You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him. 

  “Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.” 

  “Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”

  “Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.” 

____

  Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games. 

  Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing. 

  Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up. 

  She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her. 

  Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable. 

  “Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

  She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies. 

  “Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.” 

  “It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely. 

  “Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers). 

____

  “It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens. 

  “You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff. 

  “I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear. 

  “I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.” 

  He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.

  “Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. 

  Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them. 

  Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground. 

  “This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-” 

  She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising. 

  “I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.

  “I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.

[spaceless-vacuum]

Fandom‧˚｡ﾟ･° ｡✎ Legend of Zelda

Pairing‧˚｡ﾟ･° ｡✎ Yandere!Time x reader

Word count‧˚｡ﾟ･° ｡✎ 2456

Summery‧˚｡ﾟ･° ｡✎ another forced cuddling post based off of a prompt? It’s more likely than you think! This time Time breaks into your house for some cuddles while youre sleeping and it does not wind up going to plan.

Misc‧˚｡ﾟ･° ｡✎ first person pov, dub-con cuddling, fighting, being overpowered, being tied up, Time wins the fight, reader is forced to deal with it all as they cant get away

After everything I wouldn't have called Time a ticking time bomb out loud, but some part of me always knew it was only a matter of time. Between the way he took the time to always watch what I was doing, carefully examining my every move to the way the townsfolk whispered about how the day before he threatened someone who got too close to me. I knew it was only a matter of time before something fell loose but I figured I would have seen a warning sign. Never had I expected it to be something like this. He stared down at my face twisted in a crazed smile that stretched ear from ear as he held me to the ground. I wasn't too aware as to what was going on since I had just woken up, but he was the one to wake me. Picking me up and moving me around in my sleep to make himself comfortable on my bed was the final straw.

It wasn't like him to act like this I was sure of it. I watched him pull me closer while shushing me, dipping his head low to plant a kiss on my lips before resting his forehead on mine. Feeling more adrenaline start up I kicked and tried to get him off of me. The scuffle earlier had brought us to the floor where he had managed to hold me against his lap for the most of it. I bit his arm to see if that would net me any ground in the struggle. Time’s ears went flat and he hissed in pain. Not letting go of my grip on his arm I dug my teeth into his flesh harder. The rest of my body wasn't being held down yet so I kicked and dug my nails into him, raking them across his flesh in an attempt to make him let me go.

“Shhh hey- hey- hey- no need to freak out baby it's all ok you're fine. I’m not going to let you go.” His voice was quiet and soft, as if saying he wasn't going to let me go free was supposed to be comforting. The way he spoke sounded like a man trying to calm a wild animal, and with the way I was biting him I supposed it fit. Moving around he situated both of his legs around me to help contain my flailing body. He wrapped himself around me tight enough it hurt and I released him from my bite so I could gasp for air in his tightening grip.

My heart raced and my head kept sending me warning signals but I couldn't understand a single thing going on, again, why was he acting like this. None of what he was doing made sense. Before I hadn't been a witness to his actions and as such I couldn't say whether they seemed out of character for him or not. This was not reasonable or calculated actions, this was the thought process of a lunatic who broke into someone's house at an ungodly hour for a bargain. I knew no one was around to help. No guards patrolled this far away from town; and even if one did decide to walk by I wasn't sure how much help they could be.

“I never came in here with the intention to hurt you! I only wanted a bit of a hug.” he whined as he spoke and the last few words came out a bit choked. I wanted to tell him where he could shove his ‘hug’ but I knew this wasn't a fight I could win. Time was a trained and hardened warrior who had been in fights far worse than this against much stronger opponents than me. I didn't have any training. I wasn't even that sure what I was supposed to be doing right now. My brain yelled at me to do something but I didn't know what it was I was supposed to be doing. My heart rate started to slow and I felt myself growing more aware and weaker as the adrenaline wore off. If I gave up the fight now there would be now way for me to break free. 

“So you broke into my house-” I raised my voice hoping that for an instant someone may be passing by who could hear and go get help. I wasn't close to the road but I had to try- “Just so you could tell me that?!” Was this part of Time always there and I had just missed it. Most of the time he hung back, arms crossed watching me go about my day while he smiled and glared at anyone who got too close. I always figured he was antisocial- as none of the townsfolk had reported seeing him very often until he came around to see me everyday. I knew there had to be a plethora of red flags I missed but what could I have missed that would have given me enough time to avoid whatever this was?

Taking the time to think took away a few precious seconds that I could have used to fight back. After I let him go with my teeth, a terrible idea that sealed my fate, he regained his composure and started moving back to plan a. With no warning he lifted me up in the air, reversed his grip, and flipped me over onto my stomach. My body was pressed on the floor with a knee on my back and it felt like the fight was already over. He won. Grabbing both of my arms he forced them behind my back and held them there with one arm. In one fluid movement he went from my friend Time to Link- the hero who slayed the half beast Ganon and saved Hyrule. Mentally I beat myself up. Of course there was no way for me to win. As long as this stayed a fight there was no way he could lose. I could not escape.

“Are you ahoy now? Did you get all of that out of your system? Things will only get better from here on out if you listen to me- starting with now.” Straddling my hips while holding me onto the floor the strongest warrior in Hyrule leane over and whispered words into my ear. Confused and trying my best to not cower away while he towered over me. His condescending tone did nothing but wound my pride and make me want to erase myself from this situation. I had lost. The precious blanket of adrenaline had worn off and I missed its comforting presence. I cowered into the ground hoping to, for an instant, move away from Link as he leaned into me. He moved his knee off of my back but held my arms in place.

His heart rate rosed as he pressed himself firmly into my back. Being this close to me meant I now had the chance to dig my fingers into his flesh and tried to make it hurt. If it had any effect he didn't say anything or try to move away. Instead he buried his face deep into my hair and breathed in deeply. Laying a kiss on the back of my head as he moved his free arm down to a pocket on his pant leg to retrieve something. My breath caught in my throat as I could feel woven rope being wound around my wrists.

The rope he was using was the same one he showed me weeks prior; it was meant to be used to scale cliffs because of how strong it was. He had shown it to me weeks prior when I found him carrying it around, and now it was being used to keep me immobilized as this villain threw his power around for his own amusement. With my hands tied behind my back he deemed me no longer an immediate threat. Standing up he walked over to my face and kneeled in front of it. I refused to meet his eyes but I could feel the weight of his on mine. I just didn't have the strength in me to see what my friend had become. His boots were more interesting anyways.

“I know you're not exactly happy with me right now but that's alright! The worst of it is all behind us, and now we can get back to where we were. With no hard feelings.” He said the last part through clenched teeth so I guess my bites did hurt more than he showed. Time picked me up and set me down on the bed. I was facing the wall which spared me the humiliation of having to make eye contact. My back was to him as he laid down next to me. Even though I couldn't see anything I could feel him pulling me close to his chest. He was right. We were now laying in the same position as we were before I woke up. 

Getting comfortable was a bit difficult for Time; he wound up settling down once his legs were entangled with me. Spooning me was probably more for comfort than it was to hold me in one place. It didn't make me feel any safer knowing that I was going to have an even harder time getting away now. Not that I had any chance once he laid his eyes on me. Stuck between a figurative wall and a literal one there was no way to go. If I wanted out I would have to use my head. Playing into his delusions and giving him what he wanted was the only way to get out of this. 

“It was impossible to say I enjoyed what was going on; rather I would admit it could have been worse. I knew enough to know that no matter what happened I would be safe even if a little lovesick. All of this was a far cry to what I would have wanted from a relationship yet the way he hooked himself around me was so reminiscent of lovers holding one another. After a lot of quiet days and lonely nights I was glad he came into my life; this just isn't how I planned for it all to go. He had his thumb hooked around one of my sore spots.

Thoughts like these could never be put into words. If I ever told this lunatic that I even thought anything related to how nice this would have been under different circumstances he would never come down from his power trip. Time was a lot of things but content to give up he was not. Even admitting I wasn't able to fight back would just make him that much more snug. Not that I even was trying to fight back at this point. It hurt to let go but I finally gave up fully. My arms went slack and I took my nails out of him, I had forgotten that they were still digging into him. No wonder he sounded so upset when speaking earlier.

“Thank you sunshine.” Something sweet like honey dripped from his voice and I knew he had the biggest grin on his face. That much was clear from his smug demeanor. One of his hands slid its way up and down my waist before wrapping itself around me again. A shiver ran down my spine from the contact. Was he trying to press my buttons? Was he trying to see how far he could go before I fought him again, or did he really enjoy this?

There is no fight left in my body regardless of the reason why. Pieces fall into place as I stare at the wall and think. I wasn't a social butterfly but I wasn't a stranger either. The people in town loved to chatter and gossip and I found myself partaking in idle chatter when making my trips for supplies. Stories are always told about what's going on. Noth small town gossip and wider spread news about Hyrule as a whole made its way to my ears. Even if no one talked about the hero anymore the memory of what Hyrule was like still rang clearly in our minds. Link, the hero himself, had attacked me. My spirit was crushed. I was doomed to fail the moment he became set to attack me.

Maybe attack wasn't the right word. Forced to cuddle with? What did one even say or do in this situation? It was criminal, sure, but being feverishly in love wasn't a crime I knew how to talk about. Assuming getting away was possible no one would be around to help. Getting away meant I would be chased down, and even after I did succeed in my escape attempt, I would still have to go to the guards for help. I had a sneaking fear that just walking up to them to clear up this little ‘misunderstanding’ wouldn't actually help. I was too weak to fight back and too stupid to figure out how to ask for help.

Time knew this too. He had to know what the end game was. Pulling me closer I heard him yawn as he settled into my side. Getting ready to stay there permanently as a shield by wrapping himself around my body. This way he was acting as a protector and personal heater. It was nice if you ignored all the red flags littering the bed I slept on. Without every other factor in play I would have butterflies in my stomach. This made  thought pop into my head. Playing into his hunger was always a  plan. If I used this to gain the upperhand I could figure my way out of this. Nothing too hasty or dramatic or else he might catch on, but it is my one true hope. No one could keep their guard up forever.

So I set myself on a path. Who knew where this road would lead me but regardless it would keep me in his arms until the time was right. Just keep swallowing your fear and allow yourself to enjoy this for long enough that you could escape. It sounded like a good plan to me. At least I had a plan now. I grabbed his shirt with my hands and pressed myself into his body. I chose not to speak because I was worried that the fear in my voice would somehow give me away. I had to find as much comfort in this moment as I could. Even if just for a second I needed to feel like I was the one in control.

[dreamersbcll]

I think I’m finally clean

- a piece for myself; an ode to one year sober

——————————————————————————

Sam didn’t know how to bring it up. It was the elephant in the room, the weight on her chest. The anxiety pressed down on her lungs, making breathing hard. The worst part is, it was good news that she couldn’t get out.

One year. One whole year of sobriety. No drugs, no drinks, no bars. Just walking the straight and narrow and keeping her nose clean.

It was the most exhaustive thing Sam had ever willingly done.

She knew this was a significant accomplishment- hell, a major victory- but she couldn’t quite believe it. None of it felt tangible or even remotely meaningful. Sam knows that she worked hard to achieve this. Why couldn’t she accept that she had done a good thing?

Perhaps it was the guilt. The hot shame that sat in her throat, burning holes each time she spoke the truth. Getting clean and sober was a good thing, especially since she did it for herself only. But good things weren’t in her favor. She had quite the track record for screwing up.

Yet despite all her efforts to self-sabotage, she was here, in a shitty folding chair in a dingy room, waiting to announce her anniversary to a bunch of strangers. In a way, it was poetic, Sam Carpenter, the sinner, confessing once again for her own personal crimes.

But everyone had their own demons and reasons to be, and Sam was just a tiny voice in a very large crowd.

That’s what she told herself anyway.

“Alright! Anyone else want to share?” chirped the chairperson. Sharon, maybe.

Sam holds her breath, willing everyone to stay quiet. She was bursting to share and needed to before she exploded into a million half-assed apologies and used bottle caps.

Thankfully, everyone heard her silent prayers and stayed quiet.

Clapping her hands together, Sharon spoke with hope. “Okay. Does anybody have an anniversary to celebrate?”

Immediately, Sam’s hand shot up, refusing to be ignored. Smiling, Sharon beckoned Sam to the podium.

Now, Sam Carpenter wasn’t a stranger to speaking to mirrors, and this crowd of people wasn’t any different. Reflected to Sam was her, all of her, in other bodies and life stories. Once an addict is always an addict, the addiction runs deep in their veins.

Breathing out, Sam began.

“Hi, I’m Sam. I’m one year clean today, and I'd like to share a story with you all,” she huskily said, her voice thick with emotion.

Her reflection nodded back to her, and so she began.

——

“Sammy.”

Looking up from her sketchbook, Sam raised an eyebrow at her little sister. Tara was lying across her feet, her little head on Sam’s ankles. Instead of playing with her toys or reading her big-girl chapter books, Tara was staring at the ceiling, her brow furrowed.

“What’s up, honey?” Sam mused, putting down her colored pencil.

Tara chewed on her lip, a worried frown on her face. Her baby sister was wise for her age, but even though Tara was a little too astute for a seven-year-old, she was still that—a child. Sam was constantly reminded that she was raising a sensitive child, even if she was quiet and careful.

Sam reached her arms out, beckoning Tara to her. Her little sister scrambled up, immediately crashing into Sam’s arms. She grunted a bit at the force Tara managed to construe but still held her little girl close.

“Oof. Hey baby. What’s going on? Are you okay?” she murmured, kissing her hair.

Her little sister just shuddered, eyes fluttering shut at the kiss. “Sammy, I don’t want to be like mommy,” she whimpered, wiggling deeper into Sam’s ribs.

Pausing, Sam let the words roll through her brain. This wasn’t the conversation she expected. She should’ve known Tara picks up on more than she realizes.

“Well, what do you mean, baby?”

Tara shrugged. “She’s mean. And loud. And when she drinks, she hurts us. I don’t wanna be mean. Will I be mean?”

As if all the oxygen was sucked from the room, Sam breathed deeply. Of course, Tara would pick up on Christina’s careless alcoholism. She was too intelligent and intuitive for her own good

Sam hummed. “No baby, you won’t be like her. You won’t be mean. You will be good, I know it,” she soothed, rubbing circles on Sam’s back.

Her little sister sniffled a bit. “Will you be mean like mommy?” she softly asked, her voice barely registering above a whisper.

Her body stiffened, her back ramrod straight. She was only twelve, but she knew her mom wasn’t any good. Christina was a liar and a cold-hearted manipulator. She didn’t care, and she took what she pleased, offering nothing in return. Sam would never be like her.

“No. I will not be mean like her. I won’t let myself or you follow her steps. Okay? I’ve got us. I promise,” she sharply said.

Tara jerkily nodded against Sam, holding onto fistfuls of Sam’s shirt as if she was about to fall off the face of the earth. Sam held back just as tight. She wouldn’t let herself or Tara fall off the wagon like Christina always did.

That’s what she told herself at twelve years old, anyway.

——

“And now, at twenty-two years old, I am proud to say that I am officially one year clean from substance abuse and alcohol. I am new, and I am alive.”

Sam cleared her throat, her vision blurring. She could feel her throat choke up, her skin flushed with incoming tears. It truthfully took everything in her not to ugly cry, but she promised herself to make it through this. So she would.

“And I am not my mother. I am better than her. I am clean; I am whole and alive,” she firmly said, refusing to let her voice waver.

It took a second, but the room burst in a round of applause; a few scattered congratulations and whoops could be heard among the noise. Sam released her grip from the podium, breathing in the feeling of success.

No. Hope.

That was an odd feeling. Hope. The fluttering bird in her chest gently asked to be freed and followed. The smell of budding spring flowers and cold winter days. It always followed her, a thin ribbon in the middle of her ribcage, holding her bones together.

Sam wasn’t used to leaning into the hope, the curiosity of what could be. But today, in a room full of people like herself, she could feel the warmth splash over her face, holding her like the sun after a long rain shower.

She was clean. She was whole. She was alive.

And she had forgiven herself for her past to build a stable future. One with someone she missed some deadly; the only other person she had fought to get clean for real.

Maybe, just maybe, one day, her sister could forgive her, too.

But for now, she was alive. That was enough.

[junglemax]

darby has a very important question to ask jack.

[drabble]

It’s quiet as Darby lays in Jack’s arms. Jack doesn’t mind the silence; so far the night has been sweet to him, and he’s happy to spend his time rubbing circles into Darby’s back.

Darby takes a deep breath, snapping Jack out of his nonsensical thoughts. “Jack?” he says, softy, and then clears his throat. “Can I uh, ask you something?”

His voice sounds like something Jack’s never heard before. Darby’s nervous. Scared, possibly. And Jack’s alarm in his head starts ringing as loud as it can.

Please don’t be breaking up with me, is Jack’s first thought, because quite frankly he’d never be able to mentally take it. He thinks he might actually go insane. But he stays strong, because it could be something totally different, and breaths out. “Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Darby assures him, sitting up. His face twists with worry too, and it kills Jack, because that’s not who Darby is. Darby isn’t a nervous wreck, he’s the strongest person Jack knows. And if Darby’s worried, there’s a problem bigger than everyone. “But uh, how do you feel about…kids?”

What.

“Huh?” Jack’s trying to wrap his brain around the question, because quite frankly it’s the last thing Jack expected to hear from Darby.

“I mean, like, us. Having kids. At some point. Not right now, but like. Would you be, okay with that?”

Jack’s floored. Completely and utterly floored. He’s seen Darby with kids before- he’s great with them. It’s clear to everyone in the immediate vicinity to see he cares so much about them. It really shouldn’t be this much of a surprise to Jack that this would come up, but he just can’t believe Darby was scared over asking him.

“I think,” Jack starts slowly. He watches as Darby holds his breath, close to tears and he can’t take it anymore. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“Really?” Darby’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean, I can imagine the medical bill being insane because you’d keep teaching them how to jump off of shit, but I wouldn’t mind raising some with you.”

Darby breathes the biggest sigh of relief Jack has ever heard from someone and smiles so bright. “Okay,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Okay.”

“That’s all you had to ask me?”

“Yeah. Jesus, you don’t know how happy that makes me.”

“How long have you been worried about that?” Jack asks, because the way Darby looked at him sounded like he’d been affected by it for a while.

“I mean…I just- you know-“ Darby sighs, and sits up straighter, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “I like you so much, Jack. I can’t- I can’t see myself with anyone else, you know? And uh, before, in other relationships, having kids was…sort of a deal breaker for me. But with you…I think I’d have let it go, but god, I would’ve been so sad.”

“Darby…” Jack reaches up and caresses his face. “I think you’re gonna be the best dad ever.”

Darby’s eyes light up in such a way it makes Jack want to tear up. “Really? You think so?”

“I know so. You’re gonna spoil the hell out of our kids, but you’ll be good. They’ll be loved. By both of us.”

Darby laughs softly and wipes at his eyes. “You fucker. You’re gonna make me cry.”

Jack leans in and gives Darby a kiss. “So will our kids, at some point. But it’ll all be okay.”

[tripthelightfatality]

Exodus Unholy |D.W.R x S.F.K|

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: TW: Heavy BDSM, Dom! Danny, Sub! Sam, Oral (M Rec), Impact play, Unprotected anal sex, Toy use, Double penetration, Hair pulling, Consensual slapping, Orgasm denial, Overstimulation, Biting, Hickeys, Dirty talk, Dacryphilia, Pure filth, Porn without plot

Summary: Danny knew that Sam needed a little attitude check and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Word count: 3440

Thank you for being so patient with me! This took hella long to write but it was worth it. Hope you enjoy my Sanny brain rot lmao.

If there was one thing Sam Kiszka was notorious for it was being the biggest pain in the ass. He had many simple pleasures in life and what he chose today was getting a rise out of his boyfriend.

Filthy words rolled off of Sam’s lips into Danny’s ears. Everything from ‘I need you to fuck me, daddy’ to ‘If you don’t, I’ll just finish myself off’ were thrown out. Rather than give in, Danny was adamant on standing his ground.

“That mouth can get you in a world of trouble so I suggest you use it wisely” Danny whispered into Sam’s ear.

Strike one.

“Hmmm I don’t think I will. It’s my mouth and I’ll use it how I damn well please...unless you have a better use for it” Sam hissed back.

Strike two.

Danny raised both eyebrows and placed a hand on Sam’s knee. He gave it a firm squeeze to indicate “This is your final chance to get your act together before I take matters into my own hands’.

If you’re going to be a brat, go big or go home was Sam’s personal motto and he was sticking to it. To finish the job, he said the one thing that would definitely land him in the line of fire:

“I guess you’re too much of a pussy to put me in my place. What a shame I guess”

Strike three.

Danny grabbed his car keys and Sam’s hand. He was going to make Sam eat those words. The ride home was eerily quiet and Sam was now questioning if he went too far. Usually Danny talks about what’s waiting for him at home but the silence was too close for comfort. Once the car was parked in the driveway, Danny looked straight ahead and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

“You are going to walk your ass into the house and go straight to the dwelling. When I’m good and ready, I better see you naked and on your goddamn knees”

To avoid digging his grave any further, Sam ran out of the car and into the house. His heart was threatening to burst from his chest as he thought about what’s to come.

—————

“Looks like someone forgot how to behave in public. Well now you’ve got my full fucking attention, Sammy boy.”

A loud gag ripped through the air as Danny pulled out his fingers from Sam’s throat; The saliva covered digits glistened in the dim light.

“Listen to how pitiful you sound. Be thankful that I’m even helping you take my cock down your throat. I should just let you choke on it like the little fuck slut you are” Danny huffed while wrapping a hand around Sam’s neck.

Degradation was like a second language in the bedroom. When it was used, it was used to the fullest extent. Sam coughed and shuddered at Danny’s statement. His hands were bound with metal cuffs behind his back and knees were digging into the concrete floor. Being a disobedient brat always led to a punishment but being dragged into the dwelling meant he fucked up royally.

“T-Thank you…”Sam rasped out. He looked up with teary eyes and saw just how angry Danny actually was.

As a swift hand cracked against Sam’s cheek, Danny’s grip on his neck tighter ever so slightly. His other hand tilted up his chin so Sam could fully look him in the eye. If looks could kill then Danny would be behind the trigger.

“You know how to address me. Try again”

“T-Thank you, Sir…” Sam quickly corrected himself.

Danny shook his head and gripped Sam’s jaw. His honey doe eyes were met with the lustful obsidians of the man above him. Sam wasn’t afraid to play with fire when it came to his bratty tendencies but no matter how high his crimes were stacked, Danny will always become the executioner.

“Since you don’t know how to control that mouth of yours, I’m going to put it to better use.” Danny removed his hands from Sam to free his throbbing cock from his jeans.

Like presenting an offering, Sam opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. His heart was fluttering in his chest waiting for Danny to be buried deep into his throat. Danny tapped the head of his dick against Sam’s tongue and slid into him in one swift motion. Giving him no time to adjust, Danny began to thrust into Sam’s mouth.

“That’s right…fucking take it. Gag on me you little slut” Danny grunted out while placing both of his hands on the sides of Sam’s head and fucking into the back of his throat. A stream of tears and drool fell down Sam’s chin as Danny set a vicious pace in his throat. The sound of gags and broken moans was like a symphony to Danny’s ears. His thrusts stopped suddenly as Danny held Sam’s head down.

“Only good boys get to breathe and you are far from that. But I know you’d die happy if it meant you got to go out choking on me. Isn’t that right, Princess?”

Sam nodded to the best of his abilities then coughed as Danny pulled out. The rush of oxygen made his head feel dizzy and his cock throb, almost like a full body high without any drugs. Just being manhandled alone was enough to make him cum easily.

“Y-Yes sir…I’d be the happiest slut on this planet if it meant I got to worship your divine cock. I’d grovel at your feet every waking moment just to let you know where I belong”

While Danny was fluent in crude prose, Sam’s expertise was counteracting those obscenities with admiration. His bratty mouth may get him into trouble but it can also get him out. Danny leaned in close then placed his hand on the side of Sam’s cheek, slowly slipping his fingers towards the nape of his neck. With one quick snap, Danny grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked Sam’s head back.

“It’s gonna take more than ass kissing to get you out of this, darling.” With pursed lips, Danny spat onto Sam’s tongue and smeared it around with the head of his dick. Sliding back into his throat, the sinful dissonance coming from Sam recapitulates. At the pace Danny was going, Sam’s throat was bound to be sore the next day. A fresh set of tears mixed in with the rest of the saliva running down his chin.

“I haven’t even touched your cock and you’re already making a mess of yourself. Fucking disgusting how you’re getting off from this”

That was the final nail in the coffin. It wasn’t often that words could get him to finish but mixing that with pitiless actions of his dominant counterpart became simply unbearable. Sam whined pathetically as he came on the floor without giving a proper warning. The temporary relief was short-lived as Danny pulled out of his mouth.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re just digging your grave deeper.”

Danny placed a heavy hand on the top of Sam’s head and pushed him to the floor.

“Clean up your fucking mess”

Sam winced and began to lick up the small pool beneath him. He glanced up to see Danny’s pleased reaction and swallowed up his release.

“I hope that was worth it because you’re not allowed to cum from now on. Do you understand?”

Sam whimpered and slowly nodded. Putting up a fight in this position wasn’t worth the trouble. However he did take solace knowing he had the choice to pick the punishment.

“You’ve disobeyed me too much today” Danny sneered while squatting down to Sam’s level.

“I’ve had it with your bratty ass today.”

In a lapse of judgment, Sam decided to add fuel to the already burning fire. He smirked then looked directly into Danny’s eyes.

“And what are you gonna do about it, Danny?”

Sam was awaiting another strike to his face but it never came. Instead something more ominous was looming on the horizon. Grabbing a fistful of hair, Danny yanked Sam off the ground and dragged him towards the modestly sized St. Andrew’s cross mounted on the wall.The grip on his hair was dropped as his cuffs were removed. Momentary freedom dissipated as Sam’s wrists and ankles were locked into place.

“I was going to let you pick your poison but I don’t think you deserve such a privilege”

Danny was seething at this point. A couple swatts to the ass wasn’t enough to get the point across. Glancing over at the matte black chest, lovingly called Pandora’s box, a different idea came into play. Sauntering over to the chest Danny opened it and fished out the item he was looking for. He walked back over to Sam and leaned close to his ear.

“Matter of fact, you don’t even deserve to look at me”

Taking away one of the core senses was one of a part of a punishment in Danny’s book along with many other stipulations. Sam swallowed harshly and bit his lip as the silk blindfold robbed him of his eyesight.

Danny had three different tiers of punishment depending on the crime: his hand, which was the equivalent of getting a slap on the wrist. The flogger, the sting of the leather was more of a putting you in your place method. The worst and final tier was the cane. That was bought out only if the most severe punishments were due.

“I better hear you count every strike. If you lose count then it starts back at number one. What’s your color?”

Sam took comfort knowing that if the safeword was said, everything stopped and he would be taken care of. Both of them go off of the color system: Green means “I’m good”, Yellow “Take it easy on me”, and Red “Everything needs to stop”.

“G-Green sir…”

The first blow of the cane smacked against Sam’s right cheek echoed through the air. With no warning, the sudden strike caused Sam to shriek in shock. It wasn’t long before the lingering sting began to set in. Catching his breath, he started to count.

“O-One”

The second strike hurt worse than the first since he was expecting it but actions had dire consequences.

“T-Two…”

*Thwack*

“How many was that, brat?”

Admiring the marks Danny has painted across Sam’s ass, he took a handful of his cheek and squeezed. Tears soaked through the blindfold and shaky breaths fell from Sam’s lips; crimson imprints adorned his alabaster skin.

“S-Six sir…”

Once he was satisfied with his work, Danny put down the cane and released him from the cross. The cuffs returned back onto Sam’s wrists as his knees kissed the concrete once more. It took a second for Sam’s eyes to adjust to the light when the blindfold was removed but the tears made it just a tad bit harder.

He glanced up to see Danny knelt down in front of him with that damned smirk. Sam let some more tears roll down his face in hopes that some mercy would be given but he was sorely mistaken.

“A hard head makes a soft ass. You could cry me a fucking river for all I care.”

Danny grabbed Sam’s chin and slowly licked up the stray tears. He watched Sam’s eyes roll into the back of his head as a deplorable whine rattled out of his chest, that very sound went straight to Danny’s already painfully hard dick.

“Oh, someone liked that. Does my precious little crybaby enjoy getting treated like a whore?”

Sam sniffed and slowly nodded. Danny already knew the answer but it was the humiliation aspect that really got him off.

“Pathetic. Get up and bend your ass over the bed”

Sam slowly got off the floor and made his way to the bed. Glancing down at his knees, he can see the bruising starting to form. Danny placed his hand on the center of Sam’s back and bent him over; the soft material of the sheets rushing against his chest and face.

“Mmmm…I’m going to ruin this fucking hole of yours, Princess” Danny purred while spreading Sam’s cheeks and spitting right onto his pulsing hole. Sam whimpered as he felt the saliva drip down. He was achingly hard and desperate for Danny to direct some sort of attention down below. The sigh of relief that rolled off of his lips when the single finger slid into him elicited a sinister chuckle out of the man above.

“Do you think you deserve my cock in your ass after all that trouble you put yourself through? Because I surely don’t think you do”

While one’s pain is another’s pleasure, he enjoyed watching the man below him spill at the seams. Danny thrusted his finger at an agonizing slow pace. Sam whined and tried to move his hips upward to get more friction. He needed more than just the finger; He craved the pure wrath of Danny.

“M-More…please sir”

He was greeted with another open palm to the tender side of his cheek. Sam winced as he was still hurting from the caning from earlier.

“You are in no position to make requests. You will take what I give you and be fucking grateful for it. Do I make myself clear?”

Sam nodded rapidly. “Y-Yes sir…I’m sorry”

“It’s really a pity. I was ready to fuck you stupid but I see the lesson hasn’t stuck. Do we have to start all over again?”

Sam shook his head in a panic and whimpered pleadingly. He knew if the process started all over again then it would be over before the beginning.

“Nonononono please don’t start over! I-I won’t be able to contain myself if you do…”

At this point, Sam didn’t care how desperate he sounded. All he wanted was Danny to fuck him to the point of no return. There was one last card in his hand that would get him anything he wanted and in a last ditch effort, he was ready to play.

“P-Please daddy…”

That two word phrase felt like a punch to the gut. Of course Sam would fight fire with fire just to have the odds in his favor. Danny pulled away from Sam all together then reached over to grab the bottle of lube on the nightstand. Popping the cap, he squeezed a liberal amount onto his hand.

He placed it back on the table and slowly stroked himself until he was deemed ready. Sam softly gasped as he felt the blunt tip teasing his rim. Within the blink of an eye, Danny slid himself in. Giving no time to adjust, he began to fuck Sam into the mattress. Danny had a vice grip on Sam’s hips as he pounded into him, fingers digging harshly into his skin. Staccato moans bounced off the walls with each thrust.

“Maybe I should fill all your little holes, yeah? Would that make your whore heart flutter?” He growled while sucking a deep hickey onto the junction of Sam’s neck.

Sam whined and clenched around him. The mix of Danny hitting his sweet spot and nails digging into his hips were beginning to be overwhelming to his senses. To add onto his canvas, Danny bit down on Sam’s shoulder with a long groan.

“Do what you please with me…f-fill all of me up, daddy”

Just those words alone almost made Danny finish. Slowing his thrusts down, he licked up the shell of Sam’s ear once more.

“Yeah? All you want to be my personal fuck toy. Well get this, Sammy…That’s all you’re gonna be…another hole to warm my cock. Say it, cockslut”

“I-I’m just another hole to warm your cock, daddy…”

Sam longed for Danny to give his neglected cock some attention but in true sadistic fashion, he loved to watch his boyfriend unravel into a puddle of nothing.

“Since I’m feeling generous, open your goddamn mouth”

Through the pornographic moans, Sam managed to open his mouth wide enough in order to obey Danny’s command. The taste of plastic melted onto his tongue as he recognized the toy.

“Does my little bitch like to be filled to the brim? Remember…it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full” Danny groaned while thrusting the phallic toy into Sam’s mouth in tandem with his thrusts.

If the filthy noises weren’t pouring out in the moment, they definitely were now. Sam could feel that familiar burn in his stomach building rapidly. He gurgled out a pathetic whine in hopes that Danny would grant permission for his release.

“Oh you’re gonna have to do much better than that. You haven’t even come close to earning the right to cum. Fucking hold it or this all stops. I have no problem edging you all night”

To test Danny’s threat was highly tempting but that reward would not outweigh the risk. If Danny says he will do something then best believe he will follow through. Sam’s now red cock was throbbing with burning wanton as he was being fucked from both ends. He could tell that Danny was starting to get close from his faltering thrusts. In a last act of desperation, he began to fuck himself against Danny’s length. It wasn’t long before Sam’s impending climax was lurking dangerously close. Pleading for release, all that came out what’s gargled moans.

“Do it. Be a good boy and cum around my cock”

Sam’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came all over the sheets. If Danny didn’t have the tight grip on his hips then he definitely would have collapsed over. Letting out an animalistic moan, Danny released himself deep into Sam’s heat.

For a quick second, a few chaste kisses were placed on Sam’s shoulders. Both men hissed in unison as Danny pulled out and yanked the toy out of Sam’s mouth. The only thing that was audible was soft pants as Sam came down from his high. With carefulness, Sam was freed from his bonds. Gentle kisses were peppered on his wrists and palms but the tenderness of the moment was short lived.

“Oh you thought we were done? God I truly did fuck you stupid” Danny darkly chuckled while sliding the toy into Sam’s now sensitive hole.

“One more and then we’re done”

Sam let out a high pitched whimper and gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks but this time they were tears of pleasure.

“T-Thank you for using all my holes, daddy ! O-Oh fuck…”

A huge grin plastered itself across Danny’s face as he slowly thrusted the toy deeply into Sam.

“There’s my good boy. Sounds like you’ve finally found your manners.”

With each thrust, the warmth in his stomach came back with full force. Sam looked up at Danny and touched his face with a shaky hand. His legs began to shake as he was teetering dangerously close to his climax. Danny smashed his lips against Sam’s and swallowed his moans as he finished all over his abdomen.

Little stars clouded Sam’s vision as he descended from his last orgasm. He looked absolutely fucked out but it was one that suited him best. Danny softly patted his hip to let him know he’s pulling out the toy. A soft wince fell from Sam’s lips but the pain was over within a second. After putting the toy down, Danny grabbed a towel and wiped off Sam’s stomach.

“Let’s get you taken care of, sweetheart. I’ll be right back” Danny softly cooed while giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. Sam gently hummed and closed his eyes for a second. He heard the sounds of running water in the background and tried to stay awake. The little slumber was interrupted as Danny gently picked him up and walked to the bathroom. The aftercare portion was usually both of their favorite parts after a session in the dwelling. After being gently placed in the tub and sliding in behind him, Danny put up Sam’s hair so it wouldn’t get wet.

“Good lord I did a number on you” Danny laughed while tracing his fingers against the menagerie of hickeys decorating his skin.

Sam softly chuckled and smiled. “Walking is definitely going to be a chore for the next few days but it was so worth it”

Danny shook his head and wrapped around his waist. He placed a soft kiss on the back of Sam’s neck then rested his chin on his shoulder. Sam leaned into Danny’s chest and sighed happily.

“I love you, Danny Wagner. Forever and always”

Tag list: @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ageofwagner @positivegvfthings @obetrolncocktails @sunandthemoontwinflames @highlyextensivebule @songbirds-sweet @jordie-gvf @takenbythemadness @puzzle-gvf

[axo-the-adhder]

angsty hunter (the bad batch) x GN reader because I just love making myself cry over fictional characters ✨✨

Word count: 777

warnings: angst, implied PTSD, malnutrition/eating disorder, abuse, manipulation, being used, being tested on, bullying, battle, nightmares, kinda sad ending, self deprecation and self destructive behavior 

you’d just woken up. 

you glance around and take a second to get your bearings; when you look down you’re met with the sleeping figure of hunter, loosely wrapped in your arms. it was rare that you woke up before him, given that his enhanced senses usually woke him as soon as he sensed that you or someone else on the marauder has woken up; which is why you took extra care to keep still and quiet. 

as you look down at his cute, sleepy figure, your mind quickly wanders, thinking about how you met. that one day everything changed. 

he met you on your home planet, talking to some kids. he just finished up a long mission, and wanted to go someplace omega could have fun with some other kids her age. you were a teacher, well, more like a teacher’s assistant. something about you just drew him to you from the second he laid eyes on you. To this day he doesn’t know exactly what it was, your scent, your laugh, your smile… probably a mix of everything, he had (after some internal debate and encouragement from wrecker) approached you and started some casual conversation as you watched the kids play. you got to know him better, and he got to know you better. your home planet became the place he would always drag his brothers to after missions, partly to let Omega play, partly to see you again. 

the empire, to your dismay, did what they do best- took control. you had to flee, not wanting to be placed under their control, and hunter insisted you stay with him and his brothers in the marauder. 

two years later and here you are, his lover of a year and a half, sharing a bed with him. Over the two years you’ve spent with him, you’ve gotten him to open up to you a bit, gaining his trust. 

he’s told you about everything regarding his past, and it breaks your damn heart. hearing about how he was treated, pushed around, and tested on, makes you feel sick to your stomach. how could the empire- no, how could *anyone* treat another living being like that? 

you remember everything he tells you about, word for word. being forced to cut down on rations, which caused him to develop an eating disorder, constantly being told he’s not good enough or not worthy of being called an enhanced clone, it made him develop some problems and you wish you could fix it so bad. get him feeling better about himself, getting him to treat himself like an actual person. not to mention his enhanced senses, being able to hear, smell, *feel* anything and everything… just thinking about having that makes you cringe in discomfort, but your lover has to deal with it constantly. he gets overwhelmed easily, and you can’t even imagine how much of a nightmare his daily life is. oh yeah. nightmares. 

not only does he have to deal with nightmarish things when he’s awake, but he gets nightmares when he’s asleep too. remembering the torture on Kamino, remembering everyone and everything he’s lost, the battles, the wars…. even on breaks the wars and battles followed him, like a stubborn ghost, and yet he still somehow gets up and manages his squad every day. thunderstorms are hard for him. really hard for him. The loud cracking he can never stop hearing reminds him of battle, as well as the storms that plagued Kamino. those nights he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, staying awake and huddling up with you for comfort. sometimes he would even start to sob in your arms. it broke your heart when that happened, being able to feel him tense for the nonexistent battle his brain has convinced himself he’s about to go into. the thoughts alone are enough to bring tears to your eyes, quickly waking Hunter with the smell and snapping you back to the present.

 “hm…? Are you crying..?” his voice is deep, as it tends to be right when he wakes up, and although he looks tired, he also looks incredibly concerned for you as he looks up into your teary eyes. “I just- i-… it hurts me that- that you had to suffer so much and still do… i-i care about you… a lot…” you manage to croak out, tears filling your eyes “Oh mesh’la… you’re such a sweetheart.” he pulls you close, letting you bury your head in his shoulder as you sob softly. “I’m working on it, it just takes some time… trust me I wish I didn’t have to deal with these issues too.”

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Hello may I request a matchup for JJK please? I’m a straight female and my name is Xiomara!

I’m very shy, distant, quiet, and a little awkward. Basically a huge introvert at first. However, once I get to know you better or I at least see that you’re comfortable around me, I’ll get comfortable as well :) And once that happens, you could say I become slightly more extroverted. I get louder, laugh more, and am overall less shy, distant, quiet, and awkward. I’m also very sensitive and have tons of trouble speaking up for myself. When getting yelled at or just insulted, I try and act unbothered but I think everyone knows that I’m holding in my tears at that point… (it’s really embarrassing ok don’t judge 🫠) But one thing I can say is that I’m somewhat funny. When I feel comfortable around people or just someone, I usually let more witty and funny comments out. Hobbies I have are photography, gaming, golfing, bowling, board games, jigsaw puzzles, and listening to music! I mostly do these hobbies solo though since I’m either too scared or nervous to ask someone or even a friend to participate with me. My appearance usually consists of grey sweatpants, grey sweatshirt, and black boots— it’s usually my go to outfit since it’s pretty comfortable. At home, my hair is tied in a low ponytail. Outside however, my hair is let down. I let my hair down outside because I’m hella insecure about my side profile. I have a round face, curtain bangs, eye-bags, black hair, and really dark brown eyes :) some people say they look soulless but idk 🤷‍♀️ I think the only thing that’s preventing my eyes look completely soulless is the fact that I commonly express myself through reactions. I’m also 5’5 ft tall. I am NOT a confrontational person. I will literally do everything and anything I can to avoid that— whether I’m the one being confronted or doing the confronting. In short, I absolutely hate confrontation 😭 I also tend to speak using a lot of “uh” or “um” because if usually when I don’t say those two words, I end up mixing up my words and my whole sentence just ends up sounding confusing 😬 Also, I smile at almost everything and anything. I’m one of those people where even in awkward, inappropriate, or tense situations— I’ll smile. It’s especially always common for me to smile when I’m nervous. Most people find this trait comical lol. But in situations where I shouldn’t be smiling but do, I never smile to upset people, I smile because I’m either extremely nervous or I just thought of something funny. Another trait I have that I’ve gotten called weird for is how often I laugh during the night rather than the day. I just feel like during the nights I remember more hilarious things than I usually do during the day. I also laugh really loud when I’m alone so I guess hearing loud laughter in the nighttime is in fact weird 🤥

(Hey hey, I’m sorry that this is kinda short- my brain was not cooperating with me. Other than that I hope ya enjoy this and have a fantastic day!)

I match you with..

Gojo Satoru

- It makes him happy when you start to get comfortable enough around him to reveal your more extroverted and funny side.

- He has no problem with speaking up for you. Though he does try and help you with that issue.

- He thinks your nervous and awkward smile is cute and will often tease you about it. Saying stuff like “Whatcha smiling about?” or “What’s so funny?”

- INSISTS on going with you to do your interests/hobbies. It gets so damn chaotic whenever you two play board games together (especially if you play any cards games like Uno...don’t even start with Uno) Sometimes you guys even place bets.

- He likes to look at some of the photos you take (Asks if you can take a picture of him next. Then if you agree to it, he’ll have the goofiest smile on his face)

- Loves your eyes and your comfortable style.

Masterlist

[jiraisupportgroup]

First off, I love your blog and feel so grateful for your posts! Thank you so much for all that you do 💖

The second thing I wanted to mention was a request for a type of post, sorry if you have already covered this topic before since I'm a newer follower

Can you write a post about how to sleep or cope with nighttime as a mentally ill person?

To be more specific -

I have intense emotions that can make relaxation in general hard. If I get into an argument at night, it makes sleep hard because I'll be too angry or upset to shut my mind off. Or even if I don't have an argument, maybe I'll be upset or anxious about something that hasn't happened yet. Like I'll just be feeling bad because of some thoughts in the back of my mind and there's no way to really fix it.

I have trouble calming my mind down and when I don't have enough distractions, my mind starts running through worst case scenarios and my paranoia and emotional issues get worse. I have a lot of trouble with traditional sleep advice like "Just close your eyes and meditate" because my mind always feels so loud and chaotic.

I just feel like there's no way to quiet down my mind and get enough rest, and of course being sleep deprived makes me turn into a grouch around people, which leads to more arguments and disagreements, which then causes more negative emotions that make me angry and prevent me from feeling calm, etc…

Thanks in advance if you're able to help out!

Thank you so much for your kind words ♡♡♡

I used to be much the same way back in high school / the first few years of college to be honest, and it sucks. Hyperactive minds are hard to deal with, but the more you tackle it the easier it gets, I promise, you will get there this is not forever.

I put together some ways to ground yourself and kind of write through situations in this post I know it's not really "go to bed" material but I hope it can help a little bit.

As far as specifically for sleeping goes, one of the things that helped me a lot was setting a timer. I would set a timer for 3 minutes and say "Okay, nothing bad is going to happen if I don't worry about this thing for 3 minutes". And so for those 3 minutes, I would try to think about other things, and if the thoughts came back I would tell myself "My 3 minutes aren't up yet". And then I extended it to 5 minutes, and then 10 minutes, and then 15 minutes. It's a bit of a weird one so I don't know how well it would work in general, but it's worth a shot.

Another one I would do, because a lot of my anxiety was based around needing to do things or be productive, told myself sleeping is productive. I would just lay in bed and be like "Sleeping is productive I can't do the things I need to do if I don't sleep so I need to get some sleep". I could see this backfiring depending on how determined your brain is to fuck you over, but again possibly worth a shot?

In terms of distraction, I used to fall asleep listening to podcasts or videos on youtube and mentally repeating the words they were saying back so I couldn't think about other things. Sometimes this worked, but sometimes it would keep me awake and I would spend hours just repeating youtube videos in my head, but worth a shot. A lot of people recommend trying to avoid distracting yourself to fall asleep but it reaches a point where it's like if nothing else is working do what you need to do to fall asleep, ya know?

The last one is something my theatre teacher back in high school told me about for some reason? It sounds really weird but hear me out: imagine two inanimate objects having a conversation. Counting or imagining mundane tasks to fall asleep never really worked for me because my brain would give up on that and start being mean again, so she suggested imagining two inanimate objects talking to each other and telling each other about their day and what they were used for. It takes up just enough brain power that it works pretty well for me. Like two chairs talking, and one of them is like "Yeah I was used at a high school assembly they were having a dumb meeting about the dress code" and the other one is like "I mean that sounds more interesting than what I do, I just sit in an empty cubicle all day long". Get creative with it.

Anyway, I'm not too sure how helpful any of this is but hopefully, something helps ♡ I really feel for you and I hope you're able to get the sleep you deserve soon ♡

[angelosearch]

Writing, and how it helps with a loud brain.

I am not an unusual person with mental illness in the sense that I think, a lot. My brain constantly searches for things to chew on, and it's natural inclination is toward self-criticism/hatred.

The thoughts move fast. I'll start with one concept and then other ideas get swept up with it. Supporting scenarios get analyzed. Social interactions get recontextualized. It builds momentum in the quiet, and the faster it gets, the louder it seems, until I feel like I've been sucked into an inescapable thought-tornado.

The trick is to slow it down early with some sort of intervention.

There are plenty of interventions that no longer serve me that are very effective - things that amounted to escapism, sometimes unconsciousness. At one time, I was so opposed to being with my own brain, I would avoid going home. I'd go out to bars every night, spending more money than I had, drinking more than I should, sharing my time with people I no longer know. I would stay at work long past my shift.

When I had to go home, I became set on clouding my mind until it was completely opaque. If all else failed, I just slept to avoid myself. I abused benadryl at one point so I could sleep through my days.

I've done a lot of work to understand where these thoughts come from, how to challenge them, and how to slow them, but there are still times when the thought-tornado touches down and picks up my perverbial brain-cow and takes it for a whirl. But I don't fear the funnel like I used to.

Writing helps me in multiple ways.

For one, if I chose to write out the negative thoughts instead of just thinking them, the narrative distance helps them feel less true. I also write slower than I think, so if I concentrate on capturing the ideas, I will never catch up. It's harder for the speed of the thoughts to build, especially in pen.

There is an element of escapism, but not to the point of avoidance. I will often start writing while I am trying to calm down, and then, once more level, I will come back and think about things more clearly. I also process a lot of what I think and feel through writing, even in fanfiction. Sometimes I give my characters the breakdown I am on the verge of, and the degree of separation makes it less severe.

And then, of course, writing is just fun sometimes. I get excited about ideas and it puts the self-hating thoughts on pause. It only takes a few minutes of a mindful activity to calm the nervous system, and it is important I don't let the thought-tornado hit those power lines.

I enjoy writing so much that I have learned to live more effectively with these thoughts. I don't want to run away from my brain, because yes, it is mean to me sometimes, but also it can create wonderful things. I find myself doing less and less to alter my state of consciousness because I want to be able to write. I can sit with myself, and that is something that, as an adult, I could not do until recently.

To mix metaphors here, I will tell you what I told my therapist this week:

My head used to be like a shitty gas station at night. I wanted to be in and out quickly, get what I needed and run. It was not a welcoming place, or a place that felt safe, and I would never go unless I needed to.

Now, my head more like a mid-teir grocery store (Safeway) a few days before a holiday. It's busy and stressful and over-stimulating, but I will go, and it will be safe, just a little frustrating. I will linger sometimes because I'll find an interesting product or I'll be willing to wait at the deli. As maddening as it can be, there will be some part of there experience to enjoy - maybe the early 2000s soft rock song over the PA or the fact the thing I needed was on sale.

Someday, I hope my head is like a really nice grocery store (Wegmans) at a time when it is empty, maybe at 5 am when they bring out the fresh bagels. Then, I won't mind wandering for hours.

Anyway that was a tangent, but I was writing this to calm a thought-tornado and, guess what? It worked. Writing for the win, ya'll.