#someone else keeps leaving toilet paper on the floor

[luveline]

OMG need to see more of Steve drawing reader in the zombie au!!!

steve zombie au —steve draws you all the time. fem

Sometimes, you collapse under the weight of it all. A lot of bad things have happened to you, and the world in this state is overwhelming. You used to wake in a soft, warm bed, spend days surrounded by loved ones, eating and drinking when you needed to, when you wanted to, with no worrying about where your next tube of toothpaste or toilet paper was going to come from. 

These days, you wake, and it's into a world where you've seen agony, and inhumanity, and it's hard. You're his sweetheart and he doesn't care, he'll take care of you for the rest of his life, but there's only so much he can do. 

“Sure you don't need anything else?” he whispers, pulling the linen blankets up to your chin. 

“M'sure. Thanks, Steve.” 

He feels bad touching you when you're squirming. “Yeah, no problem. I'm just gonna sit outside and read, okay? I'll be right there.” 

“Okay,” you mumble, pressing your face into your pillow. 

Steve grabs his rucksack and drags himself outside of the tent. From here, the sea of tents, he can see the fire in the centre of camp leaching smoke into the air, and he can hear the unmistakable hum of hundreds of people in one place. He figures it to be almost like an army base, and the small amount of military personnel only cements that. 

Robin's off somewhere. He misses her more and more lately, not sure where she is, but you've been sick this week. He has to stay close to home. She'll be back tonight for sure to see you both. And Eddie, your new (and, to Steve's reluctance, good) friend, popped by to see you both an hour ago. You weren't in the mood to talk and so he mostly talked to Steve about the next run for supplies. 

You're loved, but you're lonely. You lost everyone you knew. 

You need time to mourn now you're somewhere safe enough to do it. 

Steve rummages through his rucksack for his novel, but he doesn't want to read it without you. Between that and his sketchbook, he has very little to do. Still, you'd brought him those nice pencils and a new skinny sketchbook full of smooth paper, and there are pages yet to fill. 

It's all you. Every inch of space. Your unknowing smile as Eddie showed you how to make an origami crane, or your stomach in the dark as your t-shirt rode up in sleep. Your hands clasped around one of his, squeezing, and the figure of your crouched by the river watching tiny fish swim by. You're in lilac, and sepia, and green, green-green-green, the darkest green pencil he has in want of a black detailing your pupils and the seam of your lips over and over. 

He looks in through the tent door and sketches the curve of your hip under the blanket. He could likely draw you head to toe and inch by inch without reference, or he likes to think it, having seen it all a hundred times, maybe more. You sigh in your dozing and curl inwards, and he starts again. 

He notices when you start to cry because he's focused on your shoulders as they tremble. Steve folds the pen between leaves of paper and shoves it all back into his bag. To comfort you or let you cry? Sometimes people just want to be left alone. 

“Steve?” you ask through a little sniffle. 

“Yeah, honey, I'm here.” 

“Will you come in here?” 

He must be doing something right if you're calling him in when you need him. Finally, something right. Steve crawls into the tent and presses your shoulders against the tent flooring, shaking his head at you. “It's okay,” he says, enthusing his voice with a light amount of loving ridicule. “What are you crying for, huh? You're okay.” 

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you agree, snuffling as he touches your cheek. 

“You are. You're okay. You're beautiful.” He goes sticky like syrup, praising. “I'd write you love letters if I had a pen.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Just talking about how pretty you are would take up ten pages. I keep trying to get it down, you know? So when I'm gone, they'll know someone as pretty as you was walking around loving on some loser,” —you laugh wetly and distract him— “right? So why are you crying?” 

“Just don't feel well.” 

“I don't blame you,” he says, nudging a tear off of your cheek with his thumb. 

“But,” you say, smiling at him weakly, “I have to keep my head up. Yes?” 

“Yeah, honey.” He swallows a funny lump. “God, you're fucking everything when you smile.”

It's not that he doesn't care, he wants to hear it, but you just don't know how to tell him. How do you verbalise a mountain of grief? So he rescues you instead, flirts and soothes the wound with a warm smile. You respond to it as he'd hoped and perk up with a couple of carefully pressed kisses. “Sorry,” he whispers. 

“Were you drawing me, before?” 

“How'd you guess that?” 

“You were really quiet. It's like you go somewhere else.” 

“Nah. Just with you.” He clears his throat. “Did you… wanna see?” 

“Really?” 

Steve would write an itemised list of all his worst secrets if it meant you'd smile. A few pages of shoddy pencil sketches is nothing. 

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[pedriscroquettes]

she doesn’t want to fall in love. – pablo gavi

summary: after being caught torre doesn’t take it well.

warnings: mentions of blood and f!oral sex. not proofread. read at your own risk.

listened to no quiere enamorarse – remix by ozuna ft. daddy yankee

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

the three boys, pedri, alejandro, and torre all quickly exited the room as quick as they came in. you quickly pushed yourself off of gavi too embarrassed to even look him the eye. you adjusted your clothing and hair and noticed the mirror at the end of the room. you headed towards it immediately checking to see if you looked decent enough to step back into the party. you’d have to move countries if anyone else found out about what had happened, you hoped the boys wouldn’t tell anyone.

“you’re leaving?” gavi asks as he tries to put his shirt back on.

“they just walked in on us having sex and you want me to stay?” you were in disbelief.

“i think we should talk about this. about us.” he motions at you both.

“there is no us gavi. we just relieved the tension we’ve had since we met.” you lie.

relieving the tension would’ve met you’d only had sex once but now you’ve had it twice. you don’t exactly know what you are but you know you want to leave the party as fast as possible. you’d deal with the embarrassment tomorrow for now you just wanted to be in bed.

“that’s bullshit and you know it. i-” gavi pauses and looks at his feet. “i think i like you.”

you can’t help but stare at him in shock. you don’t expect the words that just came out of his mouth and you don’t know why you slap him. maybe it’s because you don’t wanna admit that you’ve grown to feel something for him.

“can we have one conversation where you don’t slap me?” he quickly tries to soothe out the pain on his cheek by rubbing it.

“you don’t like me. no wait.” you look him directly in the eye. “you’re not allowed to like me, not after you made me feel like shit all these last couple of months. having sex doesn’t change anything, i still hate you.”

you walk out the room headed for the front door. you don’t make it far before gavi catches up to you and pulls on your arm. you’re in the living room now surrounded by a bunch of players and the music is blasting in your ears. you’re about to curse him again before someone else’s fist makes contact with his face. you wince at the sound that can be heard over the music and soon all the players have directed their view to where you are.

gavi quickly looks over to see who just hit him and is confused to see his name twin standing right in front of him. pedri quickly tries to refrain gavi from hitting him back but it’s too late he’s already launched a punch to the older pablo. soon it’s turned into a whole brawl and each pablo takes turns attacking each other. you panic not knowing what to do everyone is too shocked to do anything. you must up the courage to get in between them as soon as you notice blood on the floor.

you realize they’ll severely hurt each other if they don’t get separated so you run towards them. your actions seem to wake up everybody else and you notice lewandowski and pedri heading right behind you.

“pablo stop!” you yell and immediately you mentally slap yourself because you remember that they’re both named pablo.

it’s no use both of them keep throwing punches and even slaps at each other. you try one final time and as soon as you get close to them you’re hit straight in the nose with somebody’s elbow.

“fuck.” you notice the blood coming out of your nose.

fortunately both pablo’s also notice the blood coming out of your nose and step apart. you would’ve scolded both of them there and then but you just want to stop the bleeding so you head towards the bathroom. you don’t even bother looking back to check the state of both them, too irritated to care about their wellbeing.

you grab a pile of toilet paper and quickly place it on your nose. you squeeze in an attempt to stop your bleeding. immediately you come up with the idea of drinking your sorrows away as soon as you get home. the night had been so embarrassing and you knew the wags would be talking about the fight and your injury for the next couple of days, until a new gossip topic came along.

you’re too busy trying to stop the bleeding you don’t notice a certain pablo walk into the bathroom. it’s not until you see him in reflection of the mirror that you jump and turn around to face gavi. his lip is busted and you cringe at the sight.

“are you okay?” he and worriedly.

“better than you it seems.” you answer.

the bleeding stops and you remove the toilet paper off your nose. it’s still throbbing a little and you hope it won’t look bruised when you wake up. you remember the injured player in front of you and open the cabinet and take out the petroleum jelly you’d gotten torre as a joke for his birthday. you spread some on your finger tip.

“this might sting a little. i’ve only used it on the guy you just fought with and he jerked away when he felt it.” you explained.

you quickly place it on the cuts on his cheek and above his eye. he winces a bit but overall tries to keep his composure, not wanting to seem weak in front of you. he can’t help but notice the proximity between the both of you and wishes you were the medic that treats him after games instead of the grumpy old man that yells at him for starting arguments.

“by the amount of blood i saw on the floor i would’ve thought one of you would’ve died.” you laugh.

“i almost did to be honest. your best friend has a killer right hook. i mean he’s got to release that energy somewhere.” he makes fun of pablo’s minutes.

“watch your mouth gavi, i’m already mad at you from earlier. no need to make it worse.” he instantly looks down at your comment.

“i think you should let me look at your tits again.” he responds.

“what?” you look at him in disbelief.

“well i’m assuming you’re not going to let me inside you again after today and i’m not ducking anybody else so help a guy out? i can’t play without having some sort of you know..”

“you’re unbelievable. well more like unbelievably horny and dense.” you scoff. “you told me you liked me and now you want me to send you nudes?”

he slowly approaches you, entrapping you between his body and the sink. it reminded you of the first time you had sex with him. your breath hitches and you loose all inhibition. you don’t even bother pushing him away or hitting him, you’d grown to like his confidence.

“not my fault that you’re so addicting. every time i’m inside you i just want to stay like that forever. i’ve never fucked anyone so good before. you make me want to give up my religion.” he places his lips besides your ear. “i just want to praise you.”

you can’t help but lose your mind at his words and soon his lips are on yours and you’re back to the same night he’d fucked you in the same bathroom weeks ago. his kisses are different this time, long and passionate and not quick and short like the first time. you completely forget about what had just happened and lose yourself in his kisses and praises.

“spread your legs.” he gets on his knees.

you don’t twice before opening up to him and almost instantly he shoves your panties down your legs and places them into his pocket. he doesn’t hesitate before licking up and down your folds. the pleasure causes you to moan without shame. he’s eating you out like a starved man and you place your hand in between his hair wanting to pull him closer to your core. the feeling of getting his hair pulled causes him to moan into your folds and you moan even louder.

he then starts sucking on your clit and the familiar knot in your stomach starts forming. gavi quickly glances up at you and realises he won’t be able to give you up, he’s addicted to you and the noises you make when he makes you orgasm. he’s obsessed with the way you thrust yourself into his mouth trying to reach your high faster. he also realises that you’ve taken over his life when you cum. he loves lapping up all your juices and the way you tug on his hair because the pleasure is too much.

he also loves the way your lips connect and you’re able to taste yourself on his lips. he’s also fond of the way you hold onto his biceps and dog your fingers into his back. not too mention that likes the warmth your body gives to him and that’s when he realizes that he’s fucked up big time.

pablo gavi is in love.

#why is every spanish man named pablo #football smut #gavi #pablo gavi #gavi smut #pablo gavi smut #ash writes

[crouchingtiger28]

3: Switchblades and Swords

(This is a continuation of The Bone Cats, originally a short I wrote based on @deepwaterwritingprompts's prompt #2965)

Warning: This story is centered around self-harm (cutting) and feelings about self-harm. There are also mentions of depression and emotional abuse.

She had done a bad job of hiding the evidence. Bad enough that, had anyone bothered for a second glance, it would have been blindingly obvious. Nobody did.

Oh, she left the vicinity clean enough. She didn't get into dousing things with bleach, but she wiped away the obvious blood from the floor, the knife, and the wall the few times she messed up and got blood on the wall. She even used the scented candle in the bathroom to sterilize the knife.

Her mother wouldn't stand for anything but a spotless house, and Cass didn't want any infections to set in.

No, she did a bad job of hiding the more personal evidence. Haphazardly wrapped cuts, blood showing through the gauze, a barely-there limp… but she didn't care. No one cared, and so neither did she. After a while, she forewent bandages entirely. The fabric of her pants from the knee down to about mid-calf was perpetually spotted with blood.

She didn't care. She didn't. And whenever she found herself caring too much, she slipped into the bathroom with a lighter and a knife.

Cass knew for a fact that her mother hated cats. Hated them with a deep and abiding passion, and only partially because she was allergic. However, Cass was sure that, if her mother had to pick one, she'd choose one of the bone cats. Cass was equally positive that the cat would be right at home in her mother's house.

It was a surprise, but only briefly, when Cass swung the bathroom door open and was met with round, golden eyes. Not human eyes, certainly, but also definitely not cat eyes. They were set into a body made mostly of wood, with what appeared to be sand beneath the shifting plates of bark and sprays of lobed leaves. Smoke rose languidly from its back, drifting up into the air in lazy curls.

Cass slipped through the open door and closed it softly. The cat continued to watch her calmly, moving only her head to keep her eyes pinned on Cass.

Stepping around the cat, Cass set her lighter on the counter and flicked her knife open. It wasn't anything special, just a switchblade she'd bought at a corner store when she'd saved enough to stop using cheap razor blades. She glanced, briefly, at the cat.

The cat who was still watching her, sitting in the same place with her head turned almost a hundred and eighty degrees.

Cass jumped, almost dropping her knife, then forced her racing heart to calm down. She had been aware, distantly, that the bone cats weren't exactly alive, and the 'cat' in her bathroom could be nothing but a bone cat. To see her completely ignore things like how spines were supposed to work was something else entirely.

It didn't matter, though. The cat still wasn't moving, and Cass could get on with it. She lit the candle.

A few minutes later, she methodically wiped blood off her knife. The floor was clean already, since she hadn't gotten any blood on it in the first place. She'd found that if she used the knife fresh after being sterilized, it would mostly cauterize the cuts.

She flushed the paper towel she used to clean the knife down the toilet. She couldn't put it in the trash can, not because it would make it clear that something was wrong, but because she was only allowed in the bathroom that any company also used. If someone snooped around and found a bloody paper towel or two, it would look bad on her mother.

As she finished, Cass felt something like sandpaper swipe up her leg, tearing at her new cuts. She spun, knife still in her hand.

Behind her, the bone cat, who had been still and silent the whole time, had finally moved. The sandpaper had been her tongue, swiping at the few dots of blood on Cass's leg. Cass nudged the cat away with her foot, ignoring the sensation of warm polished wood on her skin.

"Just because you're the bone cat of blood doesn't give you free reign over mine." Cass's voice came out soft and hoarse, shaking slightly. It had been a while since she'd said anything. Maybe a day and a half? The cat only gave her a sad, piercing look and turned away.

The cat became a staple after that.

She was nowhere to be found most of the time, which was a blessing in and of itself. Cass had the faint inkling that the cat had been drawn to her, and that would be bad publicity for her mother. Instead, whenever Cass slipped into the bathroom for more… selfish purposes, the cat was always there before her.

Every time, the cat would sit as still as a tree in one place, watching her like a hawk… or an owl, based on the flexibility of the cat's neck. Then, when Cass was done, the cat would move.

Sometimes she would 'clean' whatever unhealed cuts Cass had, her tongue literally made of sand. Other times, when Cass lingered on the bathroom tiles, the cat would move to sit next to her, leafy tail flicking silently. Rarely she would merely walk out, not looking back.

If Cass sat on the floor and the cat sat next to her, then Cass would absently run her hands over the cat's head and side. Her head was made of thin slats of polished wood, and her back and sides were larger plates of rough bark. Where a normal cat would have had tufts of fur in her ears, on her ankles and elbows, and at the end of her tail, the bone cat had bushy clumps of what Cass had come to recognize as oak leaves.

"Cassandra." Knuckles rapped on the bathroom door, startling Cass out of her stupor. "Open this door immediately!"

Cass scrambled to her feet, lunging for the door and fumbling frantically with the lock until the door clicked open. He mother stood sternly in the open doorway, staring through her special gold-leaf glasses at Cass.

"You need to be ready in five minutes," She said briskly, "The mayor's wife is coming to tea today and you need to look presentable. Do something about your nasty scars, too!"

Cass nodded numbly, still holding the door handle. Warm bark brushed against her leg, and then her mother screamed.

"What is that!? What is that demon creature!?" She stumbled back a step, her face gray with terror. Cass glanced down, confused. There was no way the bone cat was normal, but she wouldn't call her a demon at first sight-

The wood-and-leaves cat Cass had come to know was gone. In its place was a true hell creature made of molten glass and blood-red fire. The calm golden eyes were gone, replaced by burning yellow embers and the cat was spitting blue sparks, her back arched with flame.

Without a second thought, Cass grabbed the cat around the middle and yanked her back. The bathroom door swung shut, seemingly of its own accord.

Cass knew what fire was like. She had an intimate knowledge of how it felt to be burned. Even before she dropped the cat on the ground in a flurry of instinctive wariness, she knew she hadn't been burned. As always, the cat felt only mildly warm.

The cat wound around her ankles, and Cass watched in wonder as she transformed in real time. Flames died slowly, and molten glass hardened and shattered at the same time into grains of off-white sand. The sand simmered and sifted, and the familiar bark and leaves and polished oak wood appeared as though they were driftwood bobbing to the surface.

The cat nudged Cass with her head, and a voice spoke directly into her mind. It was a voice of banked fire and ever-growing always-dying forests.

'Hello,' it purred, 'My name is Sword. I am yours to wield.'

_^. .^_

#The Bone Cats #magic #cats #magical cats #tw: knives #tw: self harm #tw: emotional manipulation #tw: emotional abuse #tw: depression #writing #my writing

[myangelscrimson]

Just brainstorming

Bathrooms

Both public and private can work well.

Many times secrets are kept in public bathrooms. Someone can leave the table during a date or at an appointment to fix, hide, or help, an injury.

This can go for private settings too, where a character can leave the table to go to the bathroom. Maybe an argument at the dinner table broke out and they need somewhere to debrief, panic, or self-harm in the peace of their own presence.

Forced to meet in the bathroom to be yelled at or receive a punishment.

Self-harming in the bathtub or over the sink, with or without water in it.

A character can also self-harm in a public bathroom and walk out of the stall like nothing happened.

Suffocated with a bath towel.

Tied to a bath faucet or handle.

Drinking water out of the sink or bath.

Being forced to drink water out of the sink like a dog or limiting water intake for days on end to just whatever can fill the sink.

Vomiting can happen in a public and or private bathroom, with or without anyone around to hear or stumble upon.

Washing off wounds or using a towel as pressure to stop bleeding.

Moaning in pain as a wound is cleaned out with solutions in the bathroom.

Having a hard time bathing because cuts or wounds sting.

Often times medicine is left in bathroom cabinets.

Plenty of toxic things to consume in bathrooms too, such as shampoos, make-up products, possibly cleaning solutions, hair products.

Bobby pins, hair brushes, hair clips...

Being force fed toilet paper or having it stuffed into ones mouth to keep them quiet.

Bleeding through towels or bath rugs.

Blood splattered all over porcelain and mirrors, leaving handprints or other decorative designs.

Forced drowning in a bath. A toilet is quite degrading as well.

Electrocution from things like hair dryers or hair curlers, anything you need to plug in like water picks too...

Ripping a tooth out using floss...?

Forced to brush teeth until gums bleed.

Burning oneself on curling irons or hair dryers.

Burning the scalp by leaving bleach on it for too long. Then panic while watching hair melt off.

Mirrors shattering or a character being forced to look at themselves in a dismal state.

Slipping in the shower and breaking, fracturing, or cracking something. Dying is possible too.

Passing out in the shower when the temperature is too hot.

Feeling like the air is hard to breath because of excessive moisture.

Forced to take a boiling bath or shower.

On the flip, forced to take a freezing bath.

Having cold water poured on someone in the shower out of nowhere.

Having to sit in the shower due to injuries.

Turning on the shower to hide the sound of vomiting or anything else that might happen in there.

Looking at wounds or scars in the mirror.

Trying to hide in the cabinets or a closet during an escape.

Reflection in the metal of the sink faucet.

Gagging while pulling up hair from the drain.

Watching hair or blood rinse down the drain.

Sitting on the floor in agony or with nausea.

Falling asleep on the bathroom floor.

Watching themselves be harmed in the mirror.

Ballrooms

Feeling overheated in the outfit a character is wearing can eventually cause dizziness and possibly vomiting or needing a moment to step out.

Vomiting over a balcony, or a garden away from the ballroom. (Cutthroat vomiting off a balcony onto Hoodlum as he converses with Brawler ♡)

Stepping on each others toes, by accident or on purpose.

Being dragged and forced to dance against ones will.

Hidden weapons underneath ball gowns or up sleeves.

Over eating if food is present.

Spilling something and being forced to receive punishment later.

Messing up a dance routine and being punished later, even if it wasn't the characters fault for the mess up.

Being forced to wear clothes or shoes that don't fit and bother the character the entire time.

Hyperventilating from the attention on them as they dance, or the expectation that they must dance well.

Tripping and falling, or being forced to trip and fall.

Switching partners, only to realize the person they switched with was the person they were running from.

Ballrooms once the dance is over.... echoey, quiet, ominous, dark, spacious.

Having a conversation with someone whilst being watched across the room.

Kitchens

Coming home to a dead body folded over in the sink ** (thank you to my brother for this splitting image at dinner time one night)

Being forced to hide in the oven....cooked alive?

Forced to fit in the fridge?

Knives, plenty of knives to be grabbed and taken advantage of.

Sticking a finger in a machine to fix it, only to accidentally sever or cut something.

Being slammed down on a kitchen table, pushed into it, having the leg of one forced to sit on your foot. Tied to the leg of one.

Poisons can be made and drank in the kitchen.

Being sprayed in the eyes with something like nonstick butter... having hot oil splash into the eyes....bleach...?

Burning tongue on hot food or being forced to eat something way too hot.

Throwing chairs.

Being tied to a chair.

Forced to eat something inedible like soap...could apply for bathroom...or tidepods for the dishwasher

Stabbed with a fork.

Broken porcelain plates.

Eggshells getting stuck into skin...?

Attempting to scoop out veins or skin with a spoon...? (...thank you American McGee's Alice..)

Tied to the stove handle....burnt hand on stove top.

Something hot spilling on someone.

Stabbing an eye out or scooping one out...?

Hitting someone with a pot or pan

Force feeding something raw and not allowing the person to leave

Food being teased to someone who is starving.

Salmonella

Slammed into fridge and magnets falling off

Fridge tipping over...?

Stove fire or any kitchen related fire

Stairs

Being pushed down or even up the stairs.

Falling on the stairs or slipping and breaking or cracking something open.

Being tied to the rails of the stairwell. Or being handcuffed to it.

Falling over the edge of the railing.

Running out of breath from trying to escape using the stairs instead of the elevator.

Throwing up on the stairs and having it trickle back down to their feet. (thank you Scrabble for this idea ♡)

Too weak to continue walking up the stairs.

Being caught just before a fall on the stairs.

Sitting on the stairs and awkwardly leaning down to avoid a knife coming in for the throat, only to hit their head on the next step up.

Crawling up the stairs, or half walking and crawling.

Throwing something heavy down the stairs to hit the person at the bottom of the steps.

Getting stuck between the bars of the stairwell.

Attempting to jump down an entire flight of stairs or sliding down a railing.

Fearing how high they go or the gaps in between steps.

Hiding in the stairwell.

Cracking a tooth when falling.

Falling backwards down them.

Carnivals

Over eating and feeling sick on the rides or being sick on/after the rides.

Under eating and still feeling ill.

Dizziness from the rides or heat exhaustion.

Falling over or passing out on a ride.

The over exaggerated and flashing lights causing headaches or migraines. The music can do this too, or maybe the excessive noise can cause panic.

Feeling claustrophobic under the safety bars of a roller coaster or the people waiting in line.

Sweating

Running from someone and trying to disguise themselves amongst the crowd.

Hiding in an employees room

Disoriented begging for an employee to help or save them.

An underground operation that mistreats workers. (this probably happens anyways)

Being chased in a mirror maze and then forced to listen & watch as the killer catches up. **

Being chased in a haunted house.

Playing darts or another game at a carnival and purposely missing the target.

Someone too thin having a safety belt slip from them, causing someone else to have to hold them down the rest of the ride so they don't fall off. (thank you to my brother again, for having this actually happen to him at universal...)

Panic setting in as they get closer up in line or as they're sitting and waiting for it to start.

A ride getting stuck upside down.

A jumpscare or chase in a haunted house that someone can't shake off the rest of their time at the carnival.

#for my future reference #mirrors and vomiting are my favorite things #....writing the bathroom list kinda reminded me that saeran took cold showers to punish himself :( #at least from what I remember....he also throws up from withdrawals I thought #for like hours too?

[vedel63fraser]

Populace speech production on one and only of the nearly oecumenical fears. Near populate do not care having to verbalise in front and interview of strangers or colleagues. Just the tips beneath arse helper you subdue that fright. So dungeon reading, commit these tips into activeness and practise routine. Your sureness and speech production skills will sailplane!

Look nervous before speaking in public is really common. To facilitate get the better of the revere of oral presentation in front man of others use the language you leave be handsome several multiplication in forepart of your kinsperson. This will permit you to employment away any kinks in your address. Additionally, this leave pass on you the hazard to verbalize in straw man of others. When you are speech production in public, in that respect is commonly a prison term inning that you demand to reefer to. Get to certain that you fetch to your describe points in front your sentence is up. Otherwise, you leave birth cadaverous all of our clip since the hearing volition not cause standard the substance you were trying to get in. It is of import that everything you state during your spoken communication is related to the theme. Even out if you are departure to secern jokes, they should be germane in close to direction. This testament supporter keep back the consultation focussed on the depicted object at manus and forestall things from loss likewise ALIR remove flow. Recognize your surroundings. Accept a few moments when you get in to acquaint yourself with your environment. If you toilet come early, go to the soapbox and do a soundcheck before your audience arrives. If you take optical aids, rehearse victimization them spell you are orientating yourself with your environs. Find one someone in the bunch WHO looks trusty and focus on them. Make wish florida llc of you are the sole populate in the room. A John Roy Major rationality wherefore mass are frightened of speaking in populace is because of the total of the great unwashed in the room. If you precisely focalise on matchless person, you leave bury anyone else is in that location. It is of import to realise that nigh people actually deficiency you to bring home the bacon. The to the highest degree crucial affair is to give up relevant, interesting entropy. To assist support your actor's line entertaining either assure a level all but yourself or a prank to affectionate the bunch up. This testament non alone caring the crowd, only it leave too permit you to slack. Just about hoi polloi fix their notes for oral presentation in public by using a pad of paper or other device; however, this is not of necessity a unspoiled thought. Murphy's police is sure as shooting to fall upon and result you with a nonliving battery, a stolen twist or more or less early disaster. Be dependable and spell your remarks on forefinger card game as intimately as holding them on your Mobile device. Keep back moving if you short realize you skipped something in your outline. If you go endorse in fourth dimension to render to compensate something that isn't full necessary, you could find out yourself becoming at sea and baffled in the delivery whole. If you barely save going, your hearing bequeath never bang you made a mistake. It is of import to have sour a positive vibe when handsome a lecture. Therefore, avert looking at at the floor, ceiling, or your notes likewise oftentimes during the lecture. Instead, search into the eyes of your consultation. They will bring in you are non lone confident, only that you throw disposed yourself, as comfortably. Anterior to handsome your real speech, use it in strawman of a loved unmatched. When you are done, necessitate them which parts of the spoken communication are very well and which parts want roughly betterment. You English hawthorn fifty-fifty need to take it to a few mass. This feedback hindquarters facilitate better your actor's line. Tone your hearing in the centre. Populate testament trustfulness you when you feeling them in the middle. This doesn't think of that you should stare intently at them; however, when delivering a speech, rent your stare wind just about the way. This technique bequeath aid you prosecute the interview and crap them feeling well-to-do. As you experience above, there are many ways to contend with the reverence of world oral presentation. You should see at the tips from to a higher place above and breakthrough the ones that are suited to the aspect that drives your dread of populace speech production. So stay fresh these tips in mind, practise as oftentimes as you send away and reap the succeeder.

#florida llc

[bootnic2]

Sports And Health

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You are clever to convey along a book/magazine, headphones, tablet/laptop, cards, and so on. to keep yourself occupied while you wait. We performed a few video games of UNO the final time we had been in a laundromat while traveling with my brother. Some newer laundromats offer broad screen TVs, work desks, arcade games, coffee, etc. however these usually are not typical. Contractors should be included in these communications if they'll carry out the work or might have an effect on or be affected by it. Safe work practices should meet the most current provisions of any applicable federal, state, or local regulations or flag state requirements. A work authorization or allow to work system must be implemented for duties involving objects a, b, c, or d. This system should include provisions for enough communication of labor activities to shift change and alternative personnel. 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Rugs and upholstery may be exhausting to wash without the assistance of business cleaners and can harbour a lot of dust and dirt especially if they are in a high site visitors area. This not only stops the house from wanting pristine however can contribute to poor quality air and dangerous smells.

#清潔公司

[narancias-headband]

What is La Squadra HQ like?

(+ What's everyone's office like?)

The short answer: a frat house. Same vibes all around.

A large part of the decor, if you can call it that, is alcohol bottles, drug paraphernalia, and... Actually don't look too close at much of it...

Melone leaves his, uh, magazines out far too often, and won't even close the porn on his laptop if he leaves it unattended.

The kitchen is surprisingly clean. It is relatively unused. The fridge, however, is a mess of leftovers, drinks, sauces... It's full and at least half is no longer edible. Half of the cooking utensils are burnt and/or stained too.

The only room in the place that has coordinated furniture is the meeting room. Everything else is random odds and ends, indicative that they were acquired by various members of the team.

Cigarette burns and coffee cup rings adorn the tables that are topped with empty shot glasses and finished games of cards. Stray poker chips lay on the floor.

There are surprisingly few mirrors for a place where Illuso spends his time. No one else wants him to be sneaking around in their stuff, so the only mirrors present are in the common areas and Melone's room; not even Illuso will snoop there.

The bathrooms are surprisingly neat and tidy, though there's always a good chance that either the toilet paper or hand soap isn't stocked. Someone's 3-in-1 shampoo has been in the shower for months, untouched.

Everyone has their own office with it's own vibes, according to its owner.

Risotto's office is dimly lit, sparsely furnished, and a mess of papers. He only has his huge desk, a couple of chairs, and a large filing cabinet for furniture, the only light is a lamp in the corner. Every surface is covered in stacks and stacks of important documents, manila envelopes are scattered across his desk, each stamped with different seals denoting various levels of secrecy. Despite the mess, he knows exactly where any single page he could ever want is located.

Illuso's office contains only a handful of mirrors. Please leave any notes for him stuck onto one of them. The mirror realm of his office, however, is quite comfortably furnished. He's used his stand to push all of his things through into the other side of the mirror, ensuring no one can mess with any of it. He has his own desk, couch, TV, stereo system, and a lot more tucked away out of sight. This is also where all of the missing snacks/stolen leftovers end up.

Formaggio's office is hardly even an office. It's furnished more as a bedroom for him to crash at overnight if he doesn't feel like heading home. He even has stuff there for his kitty if he ever needed to stay over as well. Anything he brings in there has a 50/50 shot of getting lost forever somehow. Both his trashcan and recycle bin are full of empty beer cans. A box of condoms is spilled out across his bedside table next to a handful of empty glasses and a half-full bottle of cologne.

Prosciutto's office is highly chic and professional. It's reminiscent of some well-to-do businessman's office out of a TV drama. Everything is dark wood and gold, including his array of expensive pens. Every ashtray in the building congregates there, scattered across his desk and shelves. There's a photo of his mother up on one shelf. There's a small wardrobe in the corner where he keeps a few extra sets of clothing, just in case his current outfit no longer fits in with the vibe. He also has a small steamer that he uses to put the creases back into his suits if the need arises.

Pesci's office is bright and welcoming. The walls are decorated in posters and artwork, mainly of underwater scenes and images of sea life. His desk is cluttered with knickknacks, and the pages of documents are all covered with little doodles. The softest blue rug you've ever felt is a bit off center in the middle of the room. The overhead light is the main source of the room's brightness, and a lamp in the corner casts a soft bluish glow. A handful of chairs sit around the room, welcoming visitors to take a seat and chat.

Melone's office is a neon lit room, much akin to a fancy streaming setup. His desk is huge and covered in papers, colored pens, sticky note reminders, and dirty magazines, except where Babyface sits. The walls are covered in various color changing lights that he always sets to a pinky-purple shade intermixed with a handful of posters of half-dressed pinup girls. His big gaming chair is probably the most comfortable seat in the entire HQ, and its price tag reflects that. The radio in the corner is never silent, usually playing one of Melone's favorite CD's on repeat.

Ghiaccio's office is always polished. It is so clean in there. Do not touch anything. Every thing is exactly where he wants it, and every surface is so shiny you can see your reflection (Illuso can hide in these reflections, but has decided it's not worth it after the ass-beating he got when he was caught). Every now and then he leaves his glasses case, nail polish, or a box of takeout on his desk, but there is never more mess than that. Ghiaccio also has his own mini fridge as to never have to see the travesty of the shared one in the kitchen.

#this came together so good?? #physically im here mentally im at la squadra hq #golden wind #jjba part 5 #jjba headcanons #jjba #risotto #risotto nero #jjba risotto #jojo risotto #illuso #jjba illuso #jojo illuso #formaggio #jjba formaggio #jojo formaggio #prosciutto #jjba prosciutto #jojo prosciutto #pesci #jjba pesci #jojo pesci #melone #jjba melone #jojo melone #ghiaccio #jjba ghiaccio #jojo ghiaccio #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra

[sailorhyunjinz]

Do you write yandere? If so, can I request skz yandere headcanons on how they would react when S/O rejects them because she doesn't wanna deal with whole drama that would come with dating an idol?

i mean kinda?? i have a seungmin yandere fic in my drafts sooo BUT YEAH

oh also, requests are not open but im just gonna do this one cause headcanons are kinda fun BUT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED <33

also why is the felix one so short-

Warnings; yandere!skz, rejection, k-dnapping, slight gaslightning or like manipulation, restraints, threats, aggression, mentions of masturbation, stockholm syndrome

Chan

nobody rejects him. nobody.

you two were friends from school and you were sooo happy when chan made it as an idol, finally persuing the dream he had been yapping on about for years. 

but in the midst of that he realized that he had feelings for you, he missed you all the time, just wanting to hang out with you and maybe explore the things he had on his mind. so,, he decided to confess when you guys were at a cafe.

“look y/n,,, there’s something I wanna tell you” he started to which you tilted your head

“nooo,,, are you guys going on a tour again,,, i wil miss you sooo much channie” you said with a pout but the boy shook his head.

“i like you y/n” 

your mouth stood agape, this was not what you expected and truthfully,,, not what you wanted. 

“chan,,, y-you know thats not possible” you said with a frown, looking at him straight ahead.

“of course it is,,, why wouldn’t it be? w-what are you trying to say y/n?!” his voice started growing louder, you looking around in order to see that people werent turning their heads towards your table. 

Minho

you have made a big big mistake my friend- 

wont even hesitate to keep you hostage in his basement LIKE IM NOT JOKING-

might just tie you up and like,,, not even do anything to you, just talk to you and admire you, maybe tracing your facial features and cuddle closer on the cold floor

just wants to keep you as a pet or smth and you are scared out of your mind cause you cant move cause of the restraints, you cant speak because you have silvertape across your lips that he only removes to feed you but if you start screaming you wont get any so you deicde to just stay calm and quiet before someone saves you and play along. 

i mean you do,,, kinda fall for him but you know you cant,, but you cant help but to fall for him and miss him whenever he’s out on schedule things

he always returns to you and you get so happy when you see the little crevice of light from outside when he opened the basement door

whenever he lies next to you, you put your head against his shoulder and take in his scent the best you can

he told you everyday that he would let you go if you agreed to date him but you shook your head,, maybe cause you liked being his prey. 

Changbin

he’s more of the threatening type of yandere,,, like,, not that he’s violent but if you try to block his number he will create new ones and keep on sending you messages about how you have betrayed him and how he wished that you loved him back and all that,,,,

you guys often meet because you go to the same college and are students in the same department sooo,,,, avoiding him is pretty impossible 

he stares a lot at you,,, you guys have a couple of classes together and he just stares the entire time, his eyes are just filled with revenge, he somehow wants you make you his, own you but he doesnt know how yet, for now he can just look.

watch this fucking message conversation just be this;

[why did you talk to him during class?]

[you could have just asked me]

[nobody loves you like i do. no one y/n]

you are never getting rid of him basically,,

he’s gonna get to you first ;))

Hyunjin

i feel like he goes more to the stalking route than the kidnapping and drugging and whatnot- 

ok,,, you rejected him,,, but that doesnt mean you’re getting rid of him.

ohmygod what if he turns into a peeping tom- cause he obviously knows where you live. 

like yall were not even that close?? he just saw you backstage at one of the concerts and thought you looked good so he decided to go up to, you werent an idol so no problem he thought.

but he gets a bit too,, hasty with his decisions and often falls for people randomly and so when he politely greeted you and gave you his number you simply shook your head, explaining that this wouldn’t be possible since you worked in the same industry and you needed to stay clear out of any scandals in order to keep your job. 

no was not answer in Hyunjins mind. 

luckily he managed to catch your full name by flickering through some papers in an office and also saw your full adress there, knowing exactly what he was going to do on his free time. 

Jisung

if im being completely honest,,, i have no idea-

like,,, he gives me kinda pervy yandere vibes,,,

what if youre like his ex before he became an idol and now he wants to get back together with you-

oh,,, he masturbates to your pictures-

i feel like he always thinks about you, wondering what you like and wants to write songs about you but he doesnt do much-

but when he finds out that you have been hired by the same company as him to work as a like,,, economics accountant thingy he is all of a sudden vEEERY interested-

always asking the manager of when the group will have meetings with the accounting team,,, although they had nothing to do with them-

he just wanted to be in a conference room with you (and think pervy things about you in your tight office skirt and white blouse)

you went to the toilet on day and you saw him lurking around the same floor,,, WHICH ONCE AGAIN WAS NOT CONNECTED TO THE GROUP AT ALL- 

and idk,,, probably sneaks in with you and locks the door before you even react that theres someone else in the toilet- 

i feel like he’s pretty mild,,, but when he’s alone with you he is aggressive broooo

probably pins you to the wall and threatens you or smth along those lines,,,,,

(writing this is what my life has become to-)

Felix

“what do you think you’re doing?”

you turn around again, you had just thought of just leaving with a vague answer to his question but he was not having it. 

“answer.” 

his words sounded cold, his dark voice making an entrace, the exact one you’ve heard on many of the songs you listened to.

“felix,,, you have to understand,,, u-um,, if we date theres gonna be some issues” you said but he just stared at you with cocky eyebrows and a dark gaze, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“do you think i care? would i ask you if i cared?” he said to which you shook your head automatically, what more could you do?

“you get until tomorrow to think and if i don’t get the answer i want well,,, we’ll see what i’ll do to you.”

Seungmin

he plots shit behind your back yk?

he’s more of the sneaky type of yanderes (oop spoiler to a fic heh)

like he makes this like fucking year long plan where the objective of the mission is to make you obssessed with him-

he starts kinda subtely,,, first its going to the same gym as you and like,,, knowing where you placed your stuff

and then he starts putting small notes like under your waterbottle when you went to grab something that say like “i think youre cute, call me” and then his number

you obviously dont react,,, because why the fuck would you contact a stranger at the gym 

BUT THEN you realize that its him, its mf kim seungmin. yo,,,, u didnt know he went to this gym,,, that was not,,, the best-

of course you got a bit interested,,, you wanted to know how he was off camera,,, like just in his everyday life and i meeean,,, he was attractive but obviously you should stay away bc,,, he’s a celebrity but seungmin didnt want to stay away

he notes somehow started to get more aggressive,,, suddenly being like “why are you ignoring me?” and such,,,

and one night you were left alone in the gym with him,,, it was sooo quiet, only the sounds of your strained breaths as you lifted a dumbell

here where the plan came to play ;))

Jeongin

he’s obsessed with you and you are not going anywhere, even if you rejected him. 

he’s more clingy?? LIKE HE WILL NOT LEAVE YOU

ok sure,, he falls more into the stalking category too,,, 

also veeeery much a obssessed kinda yandere,,, like his mind is not thinking about how to like capture you,,, more about how to make you soooo comfortable and fool you into loving him despite the circumstances?

i just imagine that you work in a cafe and jeongin often meets you there when he buys coffee and you are already in awe when you see fucking yang jeongin enter the coffee shop on your shift but you were even more excited when he leaves his phone number on a napkin and slides it over the counter before leaving. 

you thought about it,,, contemplating multiple times but,,, you decided it would be best not to since well,,, safety purposes 

but he would visit you and every day his face got more and more perplexed cause he wondered why you didnt call

mf would not leave you alone, he would even wait outside the coffee shop until you finished your shift and walk you home,,, so now he knew where you lived- 

and then do the same thing over and over again until you talked to him.

does. not. give. up. 

#stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids yandere #skz yandere #anon #Cherrymail🍒

[bucksfucks]

fuckboy!bucky (or any of them really) catching feelings hard when all he’s led you to believe is that it’s just sex and nothing more

⟶ foreign feelings • fuckboy!bucky

warnings || smidge of angst with so much fluff and a happy ending <<3 — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

word count || ~ 1,000 words

notes || i usually don’t write fluff so excuse me if this is garbage

Feelings were never part of the deal so why did Bucky find himself longing for your touch, sleeping on your side of the bed; the side that smelled like you, and would often be in the middle of a daydream that surrounded you.

The sex was good, well the sex was amazing, but Bucky always wanted more.

He wanted the slow the mornings. The taking you out for dinner, to a nice cafe that you would love. Cuddling up on the couch with his arm wrapped around you because he chose a horror movie and you hate them.

Above anything else, he wanted you.

It was unlike Bucky to stop going to parties and instead, get the courage to text you. Although you would never answer until the next morning because it was one in the morning by the time he found the words.

He didn’t blame you, in fact, he seemed to idolize you.

His friends made fun of him when he deleted all his dating apps that produced nothing more than a meaningless night of sex.

When he decided to move out of the filthy frat house, that’s when he knew it wasn’t just about the sex.

Bucky instead had gone out of his way to ask you what your favourite food was, your favourite books and movies, the way you take your tea and coffee, and had a friendly argument of which way the toilet paper roll should sit.

His new place felt cold. It had nothing more than a few simple pieces of furniture, two plates, two bowls, and a few utensils.

When he saw your name light up his phone, though, everything seemed to be okay as butterflies fluttered around his heart.

You were weary of Bucky Barnes.

Meeting him at his frat party was more than enough of a red flag, but his touch was intoxicating and you couldn’t resist.

It was harmless at first, drunk hookups in his frat house before you took a cab back to your place.

Then it evolved into late nights where you’d sneak over to his place and vice versa. You’d stay up talking before eventually, his hands were on you.

But, you started keeping distance because feeling were never part of the plan.

And a man like Bucky Barnes doesn’t do feelings. He said so himself. It broke your heart so instead, you stopped responding to him and busied yourself with other things.

That didn’t last long because you just ended up in his bed.

His hips rocking against yours, throaty groans in your ear, and white hot pleasure washing over you time and time again before you were left staring up at his new apartments ceiling with your heart shattering a little more.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” it was a faint whisper that left your lips as Bucky swallowed thickly.

He was shocked, wanting to scream no, you can’t do that to me.

But no words came out, instead, you got dressed and almost made it to his door.

“Please don’t go,” he sounded broken and fragile as you spun your head to look at him.

“I’ve never felt like this,” he said as you were glued to the floor, “I don’t know what this is. Maybe it’s love, but I’ve never had someone on my mind as much as you are.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he sat up to look at you.

“I’ve never felt like this, but I like it. I’m happy. I smile more and I think—no I know you’re the reason why. So please don’t leave.”

His words broke your heart and mended them as you nodded your head and made your way back to his bed where you sat down.

“Feelings were never part of the plan,” you chuckled weakly as he smiled, “the plan sucked anyways.”

You didn’t know what was happening, or what was going to happen, but at least you were doing it with Bucky.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes drabble

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 19

(masterpost)

CW: references to noncon, Col fearing he'll be sexually abused, flashbacks, brief victim blaming, pet whump, dehumanisation

-

Linden’s phone buzzed again, and he knew exactly who it’d be before he even looked.

Sure enough, messages from his brother were crowding his phone screen. Vikram texted in small, frantic messages, that Linden found oddly funny.

lol fine knowing you you’ll never suggest a day

are you free tomorrow? I’ll come over for lunch or something

you know you miss me!!

Linden rolled his eyes, but truth be told, he did miss him. A new message appeared before he had the chance to start typing.

fine FINE I just want to see jaffa. you can die idc

That made him huff out a laugh, but he’d never give Vik the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead, he typed back:

Tomorrow is fine, don’t worry about bringing food. What are you doing now? Can you ring me? I have something to tell you before you visit.

Vik replied almost immediately.

yeah gimme 2 secs, who have you killed lol!

He checked around for Colton, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably still working his way through the little chores and tasks Linden had given him, which meant he was either changing the roll of toilet paper in the bathroom (great for dexterity) or watering the balcony plants (providing plenty of fresh air and sunlight). Either way, he still positioned himself in the corner of the lounge, the furthest from his Pet’s ears.

He answered on the second ring. “Vik?”

“Hey, big man. You alright?”

“Yeah… yeah… I, um, I need to tell you something before you come over.”

“You sound tense, mate. What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine it’s just- I have a Pet. Uh. Yeah.”

Vik didn’t miss a beat. “Are you serious? You, a Pet owner? Please.”

“I know, but there was this, this ad, in the paper, the council were talking about this random stray and they said if no one claimed him they were gonna put him down. They would have murdered him, Vik! And I don’t know. I just thought, fuck, no one else is gonna do anything are they. So I rang them up and they gave him to me for free.”

“Wow,” Vik said, a placeholder while he digested all of that. “So, how is he?”

“He’s alright, yeah. Only recently learned that he could speak. He’s still really really jumpy.”

“He’s scared of you, then,” Vik translated.

“Yeah. I don’t know how much of him you’ll see tomorrow. I’ll tell him it’s alright if he just stays in his room.”

“I can’t picture you as a Pet owner, even though you’re not a proper one.”

“Not a proper one as in I’m a good person with a soul?” Linden quipped. Vik snorted.

“Basically. Ew, it’s weird! He does whatever you say! But you’re just- you’re Linden. You’re my stupid baby brother. He should be telling you what to do.”

Linden smiled. Vik always put him at ease. Difficult topics seemed to flow off him like water off a duck. “Yeah, yeah it is kind of weird, I’m still getting used to it. But you see why I wanted to let you know beforehand.”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” he laughed. “Or else I might have thought he was burgling your house and I’d have asked to join in.”

“Oh, shut up. See you for lunch.”

“See you, Pet man!”

Linden felt the weight lift from his shoulders, but not entirely. Now he had to tell Col.

. . .

He had finished over ten minutes ago. Shiny drops of water still lingered on some of the wider leaves, not quite ready to drop into the moist soil below. But the balcony was too warm and sunny to resist, so Col was still kneeling there when he heard Master’s voice behind him.

He flinched hard at the sound, getting up quickly and ungraciously, tripping over his own feet as if he hadn’t just been caught lazing around.

Through the doorway, a perfect rectangle of light caught Master’s face, cutting down through one eye and turning his left cheek a tawny brown. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and leant forward slightly.

“Don’t worry about getting up, you’re fine, love. No, I don’t know if you heard, but I was just speaking to my brother Vikram over the phone. He’s going to visit tomorrow.”

Master was having a guest. Col nodded, but his mind went white. He suddenly felt like he wasn’t in control anymore. He was underwater, and Master’s voice barely faded through from above the surface.

“You can stay in your room, okay? You don’t have to come down and see him, if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure. I just wanted to let you know beforehand.”

The words flowed past his head, and whatever barriers had been pulled down over his mind kept them from making a dent. “Thank you, sir,” his body replied.

“Okay?” Master half-smiled. “Okay. Good stuff, Col. It’s a nice day- stay out on the balcony more, I know you like it there. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, but it must have been delayed, because he blinked and Master had left the room, as if he had never been there. Had Col dreamt it?

Turning around, the flowers were wet, so he had completed that task. He knew he had been ordered to stay, so he did, trying to keep the creeping dread from flooding him entirely.

But-

The next day-

It all came crashing down. His eyes snapped open and he was in his room, waiting, and then there was the click of the front door and Master was speaking, speaking with another voice- there was a man in the house-

Master only ever had guests when his Pet had been bad, and he was going to be taught a lesson, and that’s why he was told to wait in his room, that’s why he was prepped, maybe it was a small mercy. But he had been in such a state of denial, barely able to process the news, that he hadn’t done anything to make it hurt less.

All he knew was that he was on the floor in the corner, the furthest one from the bed, and his arms were wrapped around him as if that’d do anything to stop the onslaught. He knew they would just force his limbs apart and restrain them like that until they were done, and it didn’t matter whether he cried and begged. Sometimes they even enjoyed it more when he did. Once he had been lifted up by his throat and told to beg for his life, and it made everyone laugh, because look at it, it wants this, it’s begging for it.

The door handle turned and Col could see Master’s face. His eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on Col, tucked away in the corner of the room. “Col? What is it?”

. . .

Hey, Col. Vik is here, just so you know, but again, no pressure to come downstairs. He knew what he would say, the tone he’d say it in, so he could hopefully make Col feel secure. But it all fell apart when he laid eyes on the Pet, curled up and trembling on the far side of the room.

“Col?” he said. “What is it?”

“You promised,” Col sobbed, utterly betrayed. Linden’s heart broke. “You promised you wouldn’t- wouldn’t- wouldn’t do that…”

“I won’t,” he said, understanding immediately and wanting more than anything to go over to Col and pull him into a hug. But he couldn’t. He knew that.

“You said you wouldn’t let anyone else,” he whispered, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.

Then- the moment of vulnerability passed. Not that Col looked any less vulnerable. He was still hunched, small and weak, programmed to do whatever it took to make Linden happy. But he caught his tongue, and the mask slipped back on.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You can do- do what you want to me. Of course. I’m not, I don’t mean to question you, Master, I’m sorry, I know my place, I’m good, I promise I’m good.”

“You are, you’re really good.” He put a hand over his heart and kept it there. “I’m not going to come in, Vik isn’t going to come in. Neither of us are going to hurt you. I promised, and I’m sticking to it.”

Col was still sobbing, but it was more uneven breaths than actual tears. He couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to with the way his lungs were pulling the rug from underneath him.

“For now, I think you might feel safer if I just left you alone, so I’ll go back downstairs, okay? And I won’t disturb you again. You just make sure you feel better, that’s all that matters. Don’t worry, Col. You’re safe.”

-

Vikram didn’t say anything as Linden returned, but he did raise his eyebrows. Linden just nodded, keeping quiet until he was sat back down and, hopefully, out of earshot.

“Poor thing,” said Linden. “He thinks, well- he just sees everything as a threat. I don’t know if he’s ever had a positive experience with another person before. At least not in his memory. Did you…”

He trailed off and Vik simply nodded. All humour was gone from his face; he knew when to leave it out, and when it would help. “Yeah, I heard a bit of it. Heard him crying.”

“I don’t want you to take it personally-“ Linden started, but Vik had already swatted at him.

“Oh, stop it. As if I would. But I am- I am happy I’m here, even though I’m sorry it’s scared him. You need someone too, Linden. Like, shit, this is a full time job.”

“You sound weird, being nice to me” he smiled weakly. Vik grinned back at him, in complete earnest.

“Well then, we can talk about something else, if you want. Something I can confidently mock you for. Where’s Jaffa, too?” he twisted around in his chair, searching for her. His floofed-up hair, hairsprayed to excess, bobbed around on the top of his head as he went. “Where’s my little main attraction?”

Soon Vik had Jaffa on his lap where he was brushing her absent-mindedly, listening to Linden talk about the latest book he had read.

“You are a fuckin’ hermit, dude.”

“And?” Linden pulled his best bored-looking face.

“Well… actually, yeah, stay indoors. Forcing you to come drinking with me would be at the rest of the pub’s expense.”

“You’re a bastard,” Linden laughed. “It’s you they should be worrying about, with that boulder of hair on your head. Look at the state of it, it crunches when you touch it.”

“The ladies love it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause they know if they get locked out they can use it to smash a window.”

. . .

Above them, Col listened. He couldn’t make out the words, but both men seemed happy and upbeat, excited about the night ahead of them, excited about the pliant little bitch waiting upstairs.

Before that, though-

Colton had been openly defiant. He had begged for it to stop before it had even started. He hadn’t taken an ounce of pain, nothing had earned him the right to plead for mercy. He had not only been insubordinate, but he had done it while Master had a guest. That kind of embarrassment would not go unpunished. Master would not have his authority undermined by some common stray.

Col desperately needed to apologise. He knew he shouldn’t just wait for his punishment like usual this time. This time he needed to right the balance. He would prove that he knew his place, and show Master’s guest that his rule here was absolute. So with shaking hands, he slowly creaked open the door, and went downstairs.

The laughter died as he came into view, and even the feeling of their eyes settling over his body made his skin prickle. For a split second, his feet locked in place, but as usual his fear pushed them onwards. He kept his head down, his arms behind his back, his shoulders hunched. As soon as he reached Master’s feet, he knelt. Forehead to the floor. Hands to his sides, ready to be stomped on or grabbed. He was a slave. He was always open for his Master’s use. He did not answer back and he did not question.

“Col, are you, are you sure you want to be here?” Master asked from above. He was very sure. But yes, of course, it was no use Col thinking these kinds of affirmations in his head. He had to make them clear.

“I’m here to apologise, sir, for daring to answer back and embarrassing you. Your Pet knows that he is owned completely and it was c-completely wrong to question you. I had no right to ask for mercy, I don’t deserve any. I’m a mindless Pet with no free will and I exist to serve you. P-Please, accept th-this apology. It won’t- won’t happen again.”

He stammered, towards the end. He could only hope Master wouldn’t get angry about it.

. . .

Ironically, it was now that Linden was embarrassed. He glanced over at Vik, and as the two brothers made eye contact, it was as if they had exchanged a whole conversation.

You see, see what I mean? See how he is?

Yeah, dude. It’s fucked up.

I’m sorry.

Don’t be. You’re doing your best to help him. I’m not embarrassed if you’re not.

He gently reached down to Col and rested a palm on top of his head. He jerked in surprise, a weak gasp escaping his lips, but he otherwise stayed perfectly still.

“Okay, love. Thank you. I’m not angry, okay? My brother is here and he always puts me in a good mood.”

He shot another glance at Vik, mouthing this is how I make him understand. Vik nodded. He was looking at Col curiously. Linden wondered if this was how he had pictured him.

“You didn’t embarrass me. You’re fine. I’m not going to hurt you. Vik doesn’t want to hurt you either. Why don’t you go and sit on the balcony, and I’ll sit with you later, and pet your head? You’re not in trouble.”

As he retracted his hand Col’s head tilted upwards, chasing the warmth of the touch. He kept his eyes low, but whispered, “Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you for having mercy. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Okay, you’re okay. Let me help you up.”

It was technically an order, and Col obeyed silently, offering no resistance as Linden slipped a hand over his elbow and pulled him to his feet. He smiled at Col, but his face was blank and resigned. Beyond fear. He had done what he could, and his fate was in Linden’s hands once more. It hurt to know that. Linden could decide to leash Col at any moment, torture him with knives and burning oil and belts, and Col wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Linden steered him to the base of the stairs, and then gently encouraged him upwards, until he had drifted out of sight entirely.

The house was silent. He turned back to Vik, but neither had to say anything. Linden already knew that he understood.

-

first half of the taglist!

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

#linden and colton #pet whump #noncon tw

[maybege]

... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

*

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

*

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

*

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

*

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

#bsd spoilers #bungou stray dogs #stormbringer #bsd dazai #bsd storm bringer #bsd theories #bsd analysis

[watermelonlovershigh]

Harry Gets Food Poisoning While at Your House

This prompt was requested by this ask and I just put my own take on it. Hope everyone enjoys.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Boyfriend-Girlfriend/Dating for 2 years/Harry stays over at your place a lot/You ate something different than Harry/Dunkirk Harry era)

(wish that photo was really Harry but unfortunately its not. dead give away by the hand :( )

Harry and yourself decided to order Chinese take-out for a at-home date night. You both scoffed down the tasty food while sitting on the sofa watching romantic comedies. Once you finished eating, you and Harry cuddled together on the sofa under a warm fluffy blanket. You laying on your back and Harry laying on his tummy between your legs, with his head resting on your boobs. While focusing on the film, you run your small fingers in his brown curls and he relaxes into your touch, letting out content sighs.

About an hour after eating, Harry becomes restless on top of you. Before, he was laying peacefully, but now he's squirming every few seconds. "You alright babe?" you question down to Harry on your chest.

"Mhmm my stomachs starting to hurt." he replies truthfully. He's unsure the cause but his stomach is swirling and his heart rate is picking up at the mere thought of having to be sick. Especially the thought of being sick at his girlfriends house during the at-home date you had planed. He doesn't want to ruin it by getting sick.

"Oh m'sorry. Do you think it was the Chinese food?" you speak remorsefully.

"I don't know but I don't want to be sick," Harry says with a voice crack indicating he's actually getting upset, "and ruin our date night." When he finishes his sentence, he starts softly sobbing into your chest.

"Hey, hey, Harry," you say sternly but still in your caring voice, "you would not be ruining our date night. You can't help if your feel sick. Do you maybe want to go sit in the bathroom so you're closer to the toilet?"

Harry just nods his head and you help him stand up from his position on your chest and onto his barley stable feet. Then you guide him to your downstairs hall bathroom because its the closest bathroom to your living room. You walk Harry up to the toilet and help him kneel down in front and you squat down behind him. "I feel so sick y/n!" Harry moans out through shallow breaths.

"It's gonna be okay Harry. I'm right here. It's okay to be sick. I won't be mad." you reassure your boyfriend so he knows he doesn't have to keep in his sick for your sake and so he'll feel better. Because you know undoubtedly he has food poisoning from the Chinese food he ate earlier and if he keeps the toxins in his body, he will just feel sicker and sicker.

Harry's back arches over the toilet as he lets out a sickly sounding gag. You grimace at the noise but know you must keep it together to take care of him and comfort him. He's breathing rather heavy with his mouth hanging open and saliva dripping out into the water. "Shhh babe, just relax and throw up. Your tummy will feel so much better after." you gently coo in his ear. You have one hand rubbing circles on his muscular back and one hand pushing back his curly bangs that's falling in his face. He lets out a harsh dry heave and it follows with a long stream of vomit exiting out his mouth and splattering in the toilet water. You have to close your eyes to not be sick yourself.

In-between spells of emptying his stomach, Harry mutters, "You can leave me in here alone. Don't want you seeing me like this." He is absolutely crazy to think you'd leave him in such a vulnerable state. You love Harry and him being sick doesn't stray you away from being by his side in such a situation.

"Harry, I am not leaving you. I don't care if you're sick. You've seen me sick many times and took care of me each of those times. So I'm taking care of you." you calmly say back. Honestly, Harry feels so sick that he doesn't try and argue with you. If he's being truthful, he's actually thankful you're with him, comforting him, because he hates being sick alone. He may not admit that out loud but its true. Something else that happens when Harry's sick, alone or with someone there with him, he gets emotional. An uncontrollable emotion that follows during or after getting sick. One thing he hates most about this situation right now is looking weak in front of you. He's always so strong and being this vulnerable in your eyes suck.

What Harry doesn't know is that you like this side of him. Not the sick version of course but the weak side. It shows he isn't perfect and you honestly don't think you could even date someone who puts themselves out as such.

Harry forcefully throws up a few more times until he's just dry heaving with nothing more to expel. "I think you're done babe." you tell Harry softly as he's dry heaving with no results.

Harry just shakes his head weakly and replies, "I still feel sick though. My stomach hurts so bad." Tears are rolling down his face and his hands that grip the sides of the toilet seat are slightly shaking.

"I know but I think the toilet is making you feel more sick." You reach over him to flush his puke down the toilet so he doesn't have to look at it a minute longer. Harry sits up straight and turns his head back slowly to look at you. This is the first time you have seen his face clearly since he's gotten sick tonight and the first thing you notice is how red his eyes are, probably from all the gagging and dry heaving, and you see the wetness of his cheeks due to crying. Along with the bit of vomit that his on the corner of his pink lips and line of sweat on his forehead. You feel horrible for him. You'd hate to be in his position but almost wish the roles were reversed, just to take his discomfort away. That's how much you love him. You'd do just about anything for Harry. Even if that means take his food poisoning away from him and have it yourself.

You reach for some toilet paper and rip a piece off to wipe his mouth clean. While wiping his vomit covered mouth, Harry just sits and stares at you. He feels so little right now. Almost like he's a small child who's just been sick and their mum is cleaning them up. Even though Harry is embarrassed he got sick on what was supposed to be a lovely date night where you both ate non contaminated food, watched film after film, trying not to fall asleep, or maybe had some romantic intimacy at the end of the night, he actually feels happy right now. Not happy his stomach is upset but happy he got lucky enough to have a caring girlfriend that is by his side during his ugliest moments. He thinks he may have just fell more in love with you. Seeing how compassionate you are towards him when he's sick.

When you finish wiping around his mouth and a little bit of nasty drainage from his nose, Harry becomes emotional again. Like stated previously, he always gets quite emotional when he's sick but that's not the only cause of his emotions right now. He is also crying because he's thinking about how much he truly loves you and how he never thought he'd find someone with your level of compassion.

You throw away the soiled tissue and pull Harry forward so you can embrace him in a warm hug. You don't really understand why he's crying so much. Is it because his stomach is still hurting or he's embarrassed? "Why are you crying Harry?" you question him then continue, "It's alright. I'll give you medicine to make you feel better. Don't worry about that."

While rubbing both hands up and down his sweaty back, Harry says through soft sobs, "I just love you so much. How did I get so lucky. I've had partners in the past to push me away when I was sick and you didn't. You stayed and took care of me." He lifts his head so he can view your face when he mutters out the rest. "I'm gonna marry you one day you know. Want to call you my wife. Want to have lots of babies with you. Be with you till I'm a hundred. Promise I do."

His words have brought tears to your eyes. Knowing how grateful Harry is that you're taking care of him when he's sick means so much. You didn't think twice before helping him when he said he felt sick, so it must be the true love you feel for this man crying in your hold. With a shaky smile and watery eyes, you look at him in his glossy green eyes and say, "I would kiss you right now but I have a feeling your breath smells like puke so I'll pass. Love you so much Harry and of course I took care of you. I love you and that's what you do for the people you love. Take care of them in their weakest moments."

You hold him for a few more minutes on the bathroom floor until your bum gets sore from the hard tiles. You help Harry stand to his feet and walk him to your bedroom located up the stairs of your house. Then you help him slide into bed and tell him you'll be right back with some medicine and a glass of water.

A few minutes later, you come back with the upset stomach tablets and water for Harry to take and ease his turning tummy. Once he's taken the medicine, you go grab your mini trash bin in your bathroom and place it beside the bed incase he feels like he's gonna throw up again. Then you turn all the lights off and crawl under the warm blankets with your boyfriend. Without hesitation, Harry scoots over and places his head on your chest. He's past the point of being scared to look weak. He just wants comfort and the one thing that brings him the most is you. The love of his life. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight." Harry whispers with a hoarse voice.

"You don't need to thank me babe. I was glad to be there for you. I know you don't like getting sick and I was happy to at least make the experience a little bit better. Now go to sleep and if you feel sick again, the bin is on the floor beside the bed for you. Also don't be afraid to wake me up if you feel nauseous. I want to be there to comfort you." you reply back in a whispered tone. You kiss the top of his messy curls and Harry relaxes into your hold on him. Feeling safe and secure in your loving arms. Then you both fall fast asleep.

Thankfully Harry didn't get sick anymore through-out the night and the medicine you gave him seemed to have worked. The next day he was just exhausted form exerting so much energy being sick the day before but other than that, his stomach felt calm. You made him homemade chicken soup and cuddled him in bed, watching his favorite movies all day. Loving every second you get to spend with Harry before he has to leave and go on his world tour in a months time.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

#sicfic #sick #food poisoning #harrystyles #harry #styles #boyfriend!harry #boyfriendharry #boyfriendgirlfriend #comfort #throwingup #fluff #girlfriend

[leossmoonn]

Big Bad and Little Wolf

masterlist

pairing - klaus mikaelson x fem,wolf!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - “Hey can you do a klaus x reader where she’s basically the wolf who’s pregnant with hope, basically Hayleys story but she does fall for klaus after hating him” alright so i don’t know too much about haley’s story, so i had to do some research. the beginning takes place in the first ep of ‘originals’ then the rest i made up cause i didn’t wanna have to rewatch the first season lol i hope i got it right. enjoy! 

summary - after getting pregnant with the infamous hybrid, you find you have some feelings for him.

warnings / includes - language, mentions of sex, fighting, mentions of abortion (for anyone who isn't comfortable with that), and klaus being hot but a jackass at the same time :)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“No, it’s impossible,” Klaus said, clenching his jaw. 

“I said the same thing myself,” Elijah said. 

Klaus glared and pointed at you, Elijah, and Sophie. “This is a lie. You’re all lying. Vampires cannot procreate.”

“But werewolves can,” Sophie said. “Magic made you a vampire, but you were born a werewolf.”

Klaus turned to face Sophie, not wanting to believe what she was saying.

“You’re the original hybrid, the first of your kind, and this pregnancy is one of nature’s loopholes.”

Klaus shook his head and went to lunge at you. “You’ve been with someone else. Admit it!”

Elijah caught his brother from ripping your throat out. You looked at him, hateful and regretful tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey, I've spent my days held captive in a freaking alligator bayou because they think that I’m carrying some magical, miracle baby,” you said, balling your hands in fists. “Don’t you think I would’ve fessed up if it wasn’t yours?”

“My sister gave her life to perform the spell,” Sophie added. “She needed to confirm this pregnancy. Because of Jane-Anne’s sacrifice, the lives of this girls and her baby are now controlled by us. We can keep them safe, or we can kill them. If you don’t help us take down Marcel, so help me, Y/n won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress.”

The three of you looked at Sophie incredulously. 

“Wait, what?” You asked. 

“Enough of this. If you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I’ll do it myself,” Elijah said. 

“No,” Sophie shook her head. “We can't, not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow, and there are rules.”

Klaus gritted his teeth. “How dare you command me. Threaten me with what you wrongfully perceive to be my weaknesses! This is a pathetic deception. I won’t hear any more lies.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah stopped is brother. “Listen.”

Klaus turned to you, looking at your stomach. He began to hear the baby’s heartbeat. You put your hand over your stomach protectively. Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. It was real, the baby you were carrying was real. He didn’t know how to feel, but he knew he wasn’t going to give in. 

“Kill her and the baby,” Klaus said, turning to Elijah. “What do I care?”

Elijah glared at his brother. Klaus walked off, not caring to give you a second glance. 

“Screw you, Klaus!” You yelled out, followed by a choked sob. “I’m out of here.” You started to walk away, but one of Sophie’s friends blocked the entrance. You looked at Elijah for help. He turned to Sophie. 

“No one touches the girl. I will fix this,” Elijah said. 

Sophie let the two of you go. You walked out of the alley, tears streaming down your face. Elijah took your arm gently, having you face him. 

“I will talk to him, Y/n,” Elijah said. 

“What’s the use?” You sniffled. “He wants nothing to do with this baby. He’s a selfish, heartless monster.”

“Y/n, let me try and make him see what this baby brings to the table. I assure you, everything will be okay,” Elijah said. “I give you my word.” You looked into Elijah’s eyes and nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

Elijah nodded and left to talk to Klaus. You went back to the byou, knowing that the witches were waiting for you.

The next day wasn’t any easier. It didn’t seem like Elijah got through to Klaus at all. You couldn’t help curse at yourself for putting yourself in this position. Why did you sleep with him? And secondly, why didn’t you use a condom?

You shook your head at your thoughts, walking through the French Quarter to where the Mikaelson’s lived. You were going to find Rebekah and try to see if she could talk to Klaus.

You knocked on the door, frowning when you saw Klaus.

“Hello, Little Wolf. What can I do for you?” Klaus grinned.

“Is Rebakah here?” You asked.

“Yes, she is,” Klaus said.

“Great. I need to talk to her,” you said, trying to go into the house, but you ran into Klaus.

You huffed in frustration, looking into his dark-blue eyes.

If we were to have this baby, at least it would have his pretty eyes, you thought.

“Not so fast, Y/n. Have you know, Rebakah already tried to talk to me about not killing you or the baby, but sadly, it didn’t work,” Klaus said.

You scoffed, “Are you really this heartless? I don’t care about you killing me, but a baby? Oh wait, no, I get it. You’re scared that we’re gonna be shit parents like your parents. I get it now.”

You knew you had peicered his heart, becuase he took ahold of your neck and used his vamp speed to take you in the house and slam you against the wall. You groaned in pain, trying to pry yourself from his grip.

“Do not speak to me like that!” Klaus shouted. “You think you can sway me with your little findings? You think I want to be a parent, Y/n? No, I want nothing to do with the horrendous thing growing inside of you,” Klaus growled.

You gasped for air, your hands on is hand, trying to get him to let go.

“Niklaus!”

Klaus and you saw Elijah behind him, a disappointed look on his face.

“Let go of the girl. Now,” Elijah commanded.

Klaus looked back at you, crazy shining in his eyes. He let you go roughly. You fell to the floor, holding your neck and coughing.

“You do not treat a woman who is barring a child like that, Niklaus. Mother would be so disappointed in you,” Elijah said.

Klaus growled, “Do not talk to me about Mother!”

“Fine,” Elijah said. He walked over to you, helping you up. “I will talk to you about this baby, though. If you do not wish to comply with the witches and keep the baby safe, then you shall be killed. If you do comply, you could welcome your first child into the world, Niklaus. I know you felt something when you heard the heartbeat, so think seriously about your decision to leave or care for the girl and the baby.”

Klaus looked between you two. His brother was right. When he heard the baby’s heartbeat, tears of joy had sprung in his eyes. And the thought of you carrying his baby filled his heart with a little love and pride. He knew that if he did comply, then everything would change. He would change. Was he able and willing to do that?

“Let me think about it,” Klaus said.

“Alright. Have your answer by tomorrow morning. Say sorry to Y/n,” Elijah said.

Klaus looked into your eyes, seeing tears fall out of them. It pained his heart to see you cry more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said.

You gave Klaus a forgiving, kind smile, knowing he meant it. “Thank you.” You then turned to Elijah.

“Can I stay here tonight? I hate the byou.”

“Of course. We have plenty of rooms. Do you want dinner?” Elijah asked.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Elijah smiled at you, then looked to Klaus. “Klaus go and cook something for Y/n, hm?”

“Fine,” Klaus rolled his eyes. He went to the kitchen to get to work.

“He acts like he’s 5. Oh, my God,” you chuckled.

“Yes, he’s immature, but if he makes the right choice like I know he will, he will be a great father,” Elijah said.

“How do you know that he will make the right choice?” You asked.

“Well, Klaus loves family. He loves the idea of a perfect family. We never had that as children. I know he would love to have a family of his own more than anything, but his fear of taking care of a child blocks him from admitting,” Elijah explained.

“And his pride. He’s too afraid to become soft,” you snorted.

Elijah chuckled, “Yes, you are right.”

You smiled at Elijah. “Thank you for saving me, again.”

“Of course, Y/n. This baby is going to my neice or nephew. It’s already part of the family, as are you. Now, I should be going. I have some business to attend to,” he said.

“Alright. See you again,” you waved.

Elijah gave you a warm smile and left the house. You sighed and seated yourself in the living room. You hoped to the moon Elijah was right.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. You did a big stretch before finding yourself needing to puke You rushed to the bathroom, falling to your knees. While throwing up, you felt the hair around your face lift up. You finished having your morning sickness and took a sheet of toilet paper and wiped your mouth. You flushed the toilet, looking back to see Klaus with a cheerful smile on his face, his hand holding up your hair.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, standing up. You went over to the sink to wash your face and hands.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Klaus said. “I helped your hair not fall into the toilet.”

You chuckled, “Right. Yeah, thanks.”

You started to brush your teeth, Klaus standing there, watching you. You furrowed your brows and spit out the toothpaste.

“Go away,” you said.

“No, I wanted to talk about the baby,” Klaus said.

You turned around, leaning on the sink counter. “Does this mean you have agreed to help me take care of the baby, and not put me in a chokehold anymore?”

Klaus chuckled and moved closer to you. “Yes, but on one condition.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I don’t want to hear it. The baby and I are hungry, I’m going downstairs.” You moved past him, but only got out of the bathroom before being pulled back.

“You’ll want to listen to me, Little Wolf. It will make it easier for us,” Klaus said, pulling you so barley had any space between you two.

Your heartbeat spiked up, not feeling totally comfortable with how close you two were. 

“Let me go, Klaus,” you said through a clenched jaw.

“One moment. I will protect you and the baby and do what the witches want, if you agree to do stay out of my way and do whatever I command you to.”

You scoffed, “No! I’m not gonna be one of your victims. I’m carrying your baby, Klaus. You have no right to control me.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just promise to stay out of my way then?”

“Fine,” you sighed.

Klaus put his hand up to your cheek, brushing a peice of hair out of the way. You looked up into his eyes, feeling a gravitational pull between you and him. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back to his eyes. Klaus smirked, cupping your cheek.

“Falling, are we?” Klaus remarked.

You puled away, the moment ruined and the feelings you were feeling disappearing slowly.

“You wish,” you said before walking off.

Klaus looked at your retreating figure, feeling a little regretful that he had spoken. If he hadn’t, maybe you two would have kissed.

He shook his head of the romantic feelings he was feeling. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. You were just a little bump in the road in his plan to ruling New Orleans. And this baby you two had, like the witches said, is the miracle baby that would change the supernatural world forever.

He walked down to find you eating some strawberries, smiling and talking to Elijah. Even though he pushed his feelings for you away, he couldn’t deny you were gorgeous, even when just after waking up.

“Ah, good morning, Klaus. Y/n has told me that you have chosen to protect her and the baby. I’m glad you made the right choice,” Elijah said.

“Yes, well, I’m not completely heartless,” Klaus said and sat down at the island table next to you.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you smirked.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Klaus rolled his eyes, throwing a blueberry at you.

You giggled, chucking a strawberry at him. Klaus smiled at you, catching the strawberry and eating it. You couldn’t help but smile at this. You never had ever seen him like this. He looked joyful and carefree. It was nice to see him like this. You hoped he continued to be like this before and definitely after your pregnancy.

“Hello, love birds!” Rebekah announced.

You looked to the blonde and smiled. “Hey!”

“How is my sister-in-law-to-be?” Rebekah smiled.

“Good since your brother hasn’t been an ass for the last 5 minutes,” you said.

“Wow. Now, that is unheard of. Interesting,” Rebekah smiled.

“You two are friends? I thought you two hated each other?” Klaus asked.

“Well, she’s carrying my neice or nephew. It’s different now,” Rebekah explained.

“Yep. Apparently having your child gets me friends,” you chuckled.

Rebekah smiled. “Well, plus, she is a great person once you get to know her. And she’s the only girl who lives here now. I’m sick of being in the boy’s club.”

“Aw, thanks, Bex. You’re a great person, too,” you smiled.

Rebekah came over and took a strawberry from the bowl in front of you. “I have to go.”

You frowned, “Oh, why? Don’t leave me with them.”

“Ah, Y/n,” Elijah smiled. “I have been nothing but nice to you.”

You smiled at him. “True, but I want some girl time.”

“We will get that time soon, promise. I have to go and meet Marcel,” Rebekah said. 

“No,” Klaus said, standing up. 

You glared at Klaus. “Let her go. She could use some time with someone who is romantically interested in her.”

“I said no. You will not do anything with Marcel as long as you are living with me,” Klaus commanded. 

“Oh, please, Niklaus. I’m a grown woman, I don't listen to you anymore. Ta-ta,” Rebekah waved at you and left the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Klaus muttered. “I’m going to kill-”

“Klaus!” You exclaimed. “Come with me to shop for maternity clothes, yeah?”

Klaus turned to you, “Why would I want to do that?”

You frowned, “Because it’s good for a mother and father to bond, even when they hate each other. We can go and buy you some new shirts, too.”

“I don’t need to buy anything for myself,” Klaus said. 

“Yeah, you do. You wear the same 3 colors. You need to put in some pink in your wardrobe,” you said. 

“Y/n is right. Go and spend time with, as the millennials say, your baby mama,” Elijah smiled. 

Klaus rolled your eyes. “You two are impossible, but fine! Let’s go and get this over with.”

You got up and clapped your hands in excitement. You put on sneakers and grabbed a jacket before going outside. Klaus followed you out to the shops.  “I have a question,” you said. 

“Yes?” Klaus asked. 

“Since you can compel people, do you ever use actual money to buy clothes or compel yourself clothes?” You asked. 

“Sometimes I buy, sometimes I compel,” he shrugged. 

“Where do you get the money to buy?” You asked. 

“I’ve been alive for 1,000 years, I have had jobs before,” Klaus explained. 

“Ah, right. Makes sense,” you nodded. 

You two walked the rest of the way in silence. You two went into a clothing store and went to the maternity section. 

“You aren’t even showing yet, why do we need to buy now?” Klaus asked. 

 “It’s just a fun thing I’ve heard mothers do. Plus, I assume with time, life will be a lot more complicated, and I won’t have time to do these things,” you explained. 

“Hm, interesting,” Klaus said. 

You sighed quietly, looking at a few shirts for 3 months. Klaus followed behind you, observing you. He would never admit, but he enjoyed spending time with you. He did find you a little annoying and a bit of a distraction, but the fact that you were fun to be around and made him feel like he could let go was what made him all the more willing to comply with Elijah and the witches. You carrying his baby also helped, too.

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked. 

Klaus shrugged, “I have nothing better to do.”

You hummed, “Right.” 

You two shopped in silence for about an hour, then going to a nearby restaurant for a snack. Spending time with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He was more quiet and a lot less whiney than he had shown in the past. He just let you do whatever you want, whatever was safe, of course. He actually was kind to you in the hour. He laughed at your jokes, answered whatever questions you had, and took an effort to ask questions he had to get to know you. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad, you thought. 

You two went back home, a bunch of shopping bags in your hands. You put them in the living room, yawning and stretching. 

“I’m going to take a nap,” you said. 

“Alright, sleep well,” Klaus said. 

You gave him a small smile and nodded. You went up the stairs, Klaus watching your retreating figure. 

“See how easy it is to be nice?” Elijah’s voice came from the kitchen. 

Klaus glared at his older brother. “I’m not doing it for you or her.”

“I never said you were, but now you have made me suspicious. It seems like you like her, Niklaus,” Elijah smiled. 

“I don’t like her. Not romantically, anyways,” Klaus said. 

“Are you sure? Why did you sleep with her, then?” Elijah asked. 

“I don’t know. It was just a one night stand that ended up turning into something more. Why do you care, Elijah?” Klaus asked. 

“I see the way you look at her, Niklaus. There is no shame in admitting your feelings,” Elijah said. 

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Elijah. I have to go.”

Elijah smirked, “Alright. See you later, brother.”

“See you,” Klaus said before going back out.

Over the course of the next few months, you and Klaus had gotten closer and became more friendly towards each other. You had learned that he had a passion for painting and reading. You learned that he wished that he had the perfect family and he hoped that one day, his family could reunite and be together once again. He knew how to cook and actually a good man, but because of his chaotic and violent childhood, he became the bad guy. He seeks validation and honesty in others, wanting to be loved and have friendships that lasted a lifetime. 

Klaus had learned that you were adopted and thrown out all by the same family. You didn’t know who your real parents were, and you craved that information and have been searching for it since you first turned. He had learned that you had a passion for baking and helping others. That you were strong, confident, and weren’t afraid to protect your loved ones. He thought it was admirable the way you handled stress and betrayal, wishing he learned your patience. 

Learning about each other more had made you two fall in love with each other, but that was unbeknownst to you two. You both didn’t even realise your own feelings. You personally knew that you liked being in Klaus’s presence. You felt safe and protected, accepted and even loved. He made you feel alive and the fact that he showed interest in you and the baby helped you like him more. 

For Klaus, he enjoyed your presence, too. You always knew how to make him laugh. You made him feel different. Like he could be himself and forget who're or rather, what he was. It was freeing being with you, and he loved it. He was even looking forward more and more to the baby you and him had concieved. In his mind, you two were the family he always wanted and pictured. 

Even though you two didn’t notice your infatuation with each other, everyone else sure did. Rebekah and Elijah decided to make a plan on getting you two together. Every chance they could, they would tease you two, make it so you tripped into him, left you two alone together, etc. 

Like now, Rebekah had placed a golf ball on the floor and you had slipped. Klaus had rushed over to you and caught you in bridal style, immediately looking at your stomach for any signs of injury to the baby and you. He then looked to Rebekah and Elijah who are smiling. 

“What are you two so happy about? Y/n could have hurt herself,” Klaus said. 

“Oh, she’s fine. She and the baby would’ve healed,” Rebekah said. 

“No, seriously, guys. Stop leaving shit on the floor, okay?” You asked. 

Rebekah nodded, “Alright, alright. Sorry.”

Klaus let you go, his hands lingering against the small of your back. You weren't sure if it was the baby or his touch, but your stomach flipped. You leaned into him a little, wanting to be close to him for as long as you could. He was unbelievable warm, which was nice for you and the baby. 

Elijah and Rebekah noticed your body language and smirked at each other. It was a wonder how you two didn’t notice each other’s love and care for each other. The both decided it was time for the two to have a talk with each of them, to try and push them to get together farther. 

“Klaus, I need to see you for a second,” Elijah said. 

Klaus moved away from you, leaving you cold and a little lonely. Klaus smiled goodbye at you before going in the next room with Elijah. Rebekah went up to you, a cheeky grin on her face. 

“What are you and Elijah up to?” You asked. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you about Klaus,” Rebekah said. 

“Okay. What about him?” You asked. 

“You’re in love with him, right?” Rebekah asked. 

Your eyes went wide and your face flushed. “Wha-What?”

Rebekah smirked, “So you do. Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He only sees me as the mother of his child, another person to call a friend. We are no where near romance right now.”

“You’d be surprised to hear that you’re wrong,” Rebekah said. 

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”  

“He's in love with you, too, Y/n,” Rebekah said. 

“He’s not,” you scoffed. 

“Yes, he is. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he cares for you and the baby? How every time you come into the room, a smile is immediately on his face and his aura is brighter?” Rebekah listed off examples. 

The longer she went on, the more your face got red. “Ye-Yeah, I guess. You think he’s really in love with me?” You asked, hope shining in your eyes. 

“Yes. Confront him. If I’m wrong, I owe you a lifetime of favours, okay? But if I’m right, I get a say in your baby’s name,” Rebekah grinned. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Fine. Deal. I’ll confront him tonight after dinner.”

“Great! Well, looks like my work is done. I better see you two trying for another baby after dinner,” Rebekah smirked and winked at you. 

“Bex!” You exclaimed with a laugh before she went upstairs. 

A few moments later, Klaus came back from the living room. 

“So, what did Elijah want with you?” You asked. 

“Oh, just to talk about what we are going to do with Sophie, that’s all. How about you and Rebekah?” Klaus asked. 

“Just stuff about the baby,” you answered. 

“Fun. Well, ready for dinner?” Klaus asked. 

You nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, watching Klaus cook for you. You watched him in silence. You also ate dinner in silence. You two had a feeling that whatever Klaus’s siblings talked to you two about was the same thing, but you two were just too shy to say anything. But as Klaus walked you up the stairs to bed, you had stopped to ask him the burning question you had in your brain all night. 

“Are you… are you in love with me?” You asked him, looking him straight in the eyes. 

Klaus’s eyes widened in surprise. He coughed and averted your gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips upturned into a small smile. “I’m in love with you, too, Nik.”

Klaus looked up to you, a smile appearing on his face. “Really?”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Yeah.”

Klaus leaned towards you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand went up to your cheek, cupping it. You nuzzled into his hand, your own hands going to cup the sides of his face. You looked deep into his dark-blue eyes, getting lost in them. You two found yourselves leaning into each other, your lips eventually meeting. 

Your eyes closed in an instant, pressing yourself up against him more. Klaus’s hold on your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss by dragging his tongue on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth quickly, giving him easy access to explore your mouth. 

You two felt sparks fly around you two, both of your guys’s skin lighting on fire from each other's touch. Even though you two had kissed before, this time was more special. Almost monumental. 

While you two were sharing your special moment, Elijah and Rebekah were watching with proud smiles on their faces. 

“Such a wonderful couple,” Rebekah sighed. 

“Yes. The big bad and little wolf,” Elijah smiled. 

————

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Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 6: Age 18 

“California is pretty far away,” Percy says softly into the night as Annabeth lays on the rooftop by his side. He hears her shift so that she can look at him, and he mirrors her, looking at his reflection in her pale eyes. 

“2914.9 miles,” she answers. 

“You really had to choose the farthest college from me didn’t you?”

Annabeth snorts and shakes her head. 

“Yes Percy, I chose it purely because it’s the furthest from you in particular.” He pouts and pushes himself up on an elbow so he can look down at her. 

“Why are you leaving me?”

“I’m not just leaving you Perce, I’m leaving everyone else as well. My Dad, my brothers, Thals, Grover...not just you.” Her face shifts and he sees sadness replace her joking smirk. 

“Yeah but I’m special...I’m your favourite.” Percy is half-joking but he wishes with all his heart that the first part of his sentence is true, that he is in fact special to Annabeth. Special in the same way that Annabeth is special to him. 

“Don’t let Thals hear that,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes but Percy leans in closer, poking her repeatedly until she’s laughing. 

“You’re only saying that because it’s true.”

“Shut up.” Percy notices how she doesn’t deny it and it brings a smile to his face. 

 “I’m going to miss you.” His heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze as his voice softens and his smile drops. Annabeth gives him a sad look and pokes his chest trying to get him to look at her properly. 

“Don’t get all sappy on me now Seaweed Brain, we’ve still got summer.”

“And then you leave and forget me, and find a cool Perry Johnson to be your new best friend.” He says and dramatically throws his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s about to faint. 

Annabeth groans and pushes him away so he falls back on the blanket they’ve laid out. The other two aren’t due to arrive for another hour, but Percy has been spending so much time at Annabeth’s house already, that it made no sense to go back to his last night, so he stayed over and helped set up the apartment rooftop for their sleepover under the stars. 

He thinks they’ve done a pretty good job for the two of them, there’s an array of pillows, blankets and sheets all over the floor, and plenty of snacks to last them through the night. A couple of years ago, way back when they were younger, Mr Chase set up fairy lights along the edge of the roof, so they’re not in complete darkness, not that New York can ever be truly dark. The lights illuminate Annabeth’s features as Percy turns his head to her, she looks like a goddess and Percy swallows deeply when she returns his stare. 

“What are you looking at?”

Percy shrugs and sits up so he can rearrange snacks that don’t need rearranging to hide his blush at being caught. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Can you sign this, you never did?” Annabeth says changing the subject and tugs on his arm so he can come back and sit with her. 

He looks at her confused until she brings out her yearbook. Their school emblem shines on the front cover, and she places it in his lap, pressing herself to his side, so she can flip the pages, looking for an empty space to write. On the back, there’s an entire blank page and she smooths the paper down and hands him a marker. 

“All yours.” She says and watches him expectantly. 

“Are you going to watch me write in it?” He twirls the pen uneasily and rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable under her intense gaze. 

Annabeth huffs. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“Can you?” He asks half-jokingly. 

“You’re such an idiot. Fine. I’ll go check if there’s anything we forgot downstairs. Do you want anything?” He grins as she shakes her head, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Anything blue.”

“Of course,” she mutters and gets up, using his shoulder to steady herself. He leans into the touch and tries to ignore the way his body misses her warmth when she leaves.  

When she leaves Percy flips back to the front, reliving their senior year, one page at a time. He skips past the photos of the people in his grade and goes straight to the events. It starts with homecoming, and there’s a photo of Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Thalia all dressed in black suits. Percy smiles fondly at the close-up photo of Thalia and Annabeth posing together, in matching suits and corsets. Since Thalia broke up with Luke, she’s reintegrated back into the group with no issue, and it’s like she never left. 

He turns the page, skipping through the other homecoming photos, and pauses at the one of him and Annabeth. It’s a candid, and even though he’s already seen it, his heart still stutters, because in the photo she’s fixing his hair in the photo right before the official photos like she always does, and Percy can’t help but think about how much they look like a couple. 

He keeps turning through the pages, trying to find more photos of their group. They’re not a very social group, preferring to hang out with each other than go to school events, but they’re at all the major ones. 

There are small snippets of them at the football games, student fairs and pep rallies, it’s not till the end where there are photos that focus more on students not part of clubs that he sees more pictures of his friends. 

There’s one of them all laying on their back enjoying the sun looking up at clouds the way they used to when they were kids (completely unaware that someone is taking photos of them). There’s even a photo of Grover with Thalia on his shoulder as she tries to climb a tree with toilet paper in her hand from prank day. The next one is a blurry photo of Percy completely wrapped in toilet paper and chasing Annabeth. 

Moments from their senior year have been captured and immortalised in these pages, and Percy’s heart heaves at the thought of leaving this all behind or watching people leave. 

Tears start to prick at his eyes as he reaches the graduation and prom photos. There’s a huge shot of his entire grade, a choice of a few students throwing their caps up. In the corner on the page before the prom photos, there's a small snapshot of the four of them, their arms thrown around each other, heads pressed together. He remembers this moment vividly. All of their names are relatively close together in the roll, so as soon as they were announced, he had bolted straight to Grover, who had bolted to Thalia, who had bolted to Annabeth, and they had all ended up screaming and jumping into each other's arms. 

He’s going to miss this. 

He finally comes to the prom photos, and he’s not surprised when his breath catches in his throat when he sees Annabeth in her prom dress again. It’s a deep blue, the colour of the sky above his head, and it makes his stomach flutter each time he sees it. In the photo, she’s posing with Thalia again, but she’s mid-laugh and Percy would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourite photos of her. He has copies of photos from the night on his computer, but the ones taken at the venue are better quality, it’s almost like he’s back there in the moment. 

Thalia had come with a date, once again wearing a tight-fitting suit, a girl on her arm and Grover had brought Juniper, his girlfriend. Percy and Annabeth had agreed to go together, just because it was easier. 

“Platonically,” he remembers telling Grover. He remembers Grover laughing and shaking his head. 

“There is nothing platonic about you two but okay. Have fun, Perce.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grover had never explained what he meant and it still haunted Percy. 

There isn’t a photo of the two of them at prom together, at least not in the yearbook, but he asked for a favour from a friend in the yearbook committee and has the photos that didn’t make it on a USB drive back home. His favourite is his wallpaper, and it’s of him and Annabeth dancing their heads bent close together. It’s not obvious it’s them two but he can recognise her blonde hair anywhere. That’s another moment he holds close, them dancing and swaying to a song they don’t recognise, whispering to each other in the night. He’d almost told her that night. Told her everything, about what he felt, about how he would always feel, but when she let go, he realised that he didn’t want to risk losing what they had. It was too precious to him. 

Percy finally reaches the page that Annabeth initially brought him to and he uncaps the pen, tapping the back of it against the page a couple of times trying to think of a message. It’s not an accident that he didn’t write in Annabeth’s yearbook. When they were all doing it, Percy had purposefully avoided her because he knew that what he had to say to her couldn’t be said like this. 

He sighs as he begins a doodle instead. A little owl because he knows that they’re her favourite, and a dolphin because they’re his. His mind is still blank at what to write to her, but he knows she’s not going to let him get away with not doing it this time. 

He hears footsteps coming up the staircase and he writes the first thing that comes to his mind. The only thing that never leaves his mind when he’s around Annabeth. It’s not a long message so he’s finishing it just as Annabeth sits back down. He slams the book shut and chucks it behind him so that she can’t immediately read it. She notices and raises an eyebrow. 

“Read it later. It’s embarrassing,” he says sheepishly. She laughs and hands him a bag of sour blue candy stripes. He tears open the package and starts eating as he hears other footsteps. Grover and Thalia appear in the doorway, holding pillows and even more bags of snacks. 

“Let’s get this party started!” Thalia exclaims and drops her stuff unceremoniously on top of Percy, burying him under the wright. Everyone laughs at him as he sputters his way out. 

Thalia plugs in some music and Annabeth helps pull Percy to his feet, and they start the feast of snacks. Grover helps Percy set up a projector for their movie and it’s nearing midnight when they finally settle on Disney’s Hercules. 

As always Grover falls asleep halfway through the movie, murmuring about how his tummy hurts in his sleep. They take group selfies with him, and Percy grabs the marker next to Annabeth’s yearbook so that he can draw on Grover’s face. He’s holding back giggles with Thalia as they pose next to him and Annabeth takes a photo of them. 

He pulls both girls close to him when he falls back and squeezes their shoulders. 

“I can’t believe my favourite girls are leaving me to deal with this idiot,” he says and nods to Grover who has started snoring. Thalia scoffs and pushes his face so that he lets go of her. He gives in but doesn’t take his arm off Annabeth, and he swears that Annabeth cuddles just a bit closer to him. 

“We’re not dying, Percy, we’re just moving to the West Coast,” Thalia says as she opens a can of coke and Percy briefly remembers how he first met Annabeth and how she had protected him from Nancy. He exchanges a look with her and sees that she’s already smiling at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. 

“Betrayal. That’s what this is,” he says and squeezes Annabeth’s shoulder again. She threads their hands together and Percy tries not to react and turn to her again. 

Thalia catches his eye and smirks at their interlocked hands. 

She stands up and brushes her pants. 

“I need to go pee, do you two need anything from downstairs?” 

They both shake their heads and she nods before carefully stepping over a sleeping Grover and leaves the two of them. 

Percy and Annabeth stay like that, leaning on each other, hands interlocked and Percy wishes he could freeze this exact moment. 

“Did you write something?” Annabeth asks softly as she pulls away from him, but doesn’t let go of his hand. Percy nods tightly and she smiles as she reaches across from him and grabs the yearbook from their makeshift table. She skips straight to the back and opens to his page. She gave him an entire page to write on, but there’s only one sentence in the middle and two small doodles. She stares at it for a moment, rereading it before she looks up. 

“You’re my number one,” Annabeth reads, holding the yearbook open at his page, “What does that mean?”

Percy swallows, suddenly terrified. There’s no time like now to tell her, and he has no real doubts about loving her, but with her unflinching gaze on him like this, it’s hard not to be nervous. He tries not to overthink and takes a deep breath, speaking the truth that he’s kept under wraps for years. 

“There’s only one meaning, Wise Girl, what else could it mean?” He says with a shrug and reaches for her hand. She lets him take it. “My Mom once said that people who have a big heart have a lot of love in them to share, but they’ll always have their number one, and that’s you. That’s been you for years, my entire life probably.”

He takes another breath and waits for Annabeth to respond. When she doesn’t he continues, suddenly full of words. “You’re the one for me. The only one that I could ever want. The one I put before everything. You’re my-”

“Do you mean that?” Her face is full of doubt and Percy brings their joined hands up so he can press his lips to the back of her hand. 

“Of course,” he breathes, and pulls her closer. He’s barely breathing when she puts the yearbook down for a moment. They stay frozen like that, pressed against each other, foreheads touching and breath mingling.  

“I think I was made for loving you,” he whispers and carefully pushes her hair back. 

The smile she gives him is one to rival the sun that is going to rise in a few hours. 

“If that’s so, then I was made for loving you just as much.”

She kisses him, and he almost forgets his name. He brings his hands up to cup face and bring her closer and she smiles against his lips and-

“Seriously? You two couldn’t wait until after I was asleep. Jeez.” 

Annabeth jerks away from him and they both stare at Thalia who is giving them a tired look from the rooftop doorway. Percy can’t help it and starts laughing, shortly after Annabeth joins and falls onto his chest, laughing too hard to keep herself up. Eventually, Thalia sits back down and bites her lip trying not to laugh, but the more she tries to keep it in the funnier it gets. 

By then all three of them are laughing so hard their stomach hurts and Grover stirs awake. 

“What’s going on?”

“This,” Annabeth says and proudly holds up her hand that is still firmly clasped in Percy’s hand. 

Grover blinks sleepily at it and shrugs like it’s not a big deal. 

“About freaking time,” he says and lays back down. 

Percy and Annabeth look at each other again and he smiles at her before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. 

“It was worth the wait.” 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

#percy jackson #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #writing #writing prompts #fanfiction #one shot #alternate universe #mortal au #childhood best friends to lovers #annabeth chase #grover underwood #luke castellan #thalia grace #sally jackson #gabe ugliano #final part #one shot series #the end