#all the events. all the injuries. all the / losses / catch up with him

[iamjacksragingboner]

Overprotective Soap Part 2

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Mild NSFW, no smut

Part One

Part Three

A/N: Been fiddling around with this part two/collection of events for a couple days now, if this does poorly I'll actually do something drastic. Anyways enjoy whatever this is

After about a week of Johnny finding excuses to sleep over at yours, he eventually stopped looking for ways to weasel into your bed. You eventually gave up on caring about Johnny’s impromtu take over of your apartment, living under the impression that he was probably just over protective, and would leave once your foot was healed.

Under the guise of this optimism, you fell into a routine with Johnny, treating him a little like an overeager puppy, careful not to say or do anything that would trigger his desire to help you when you didn’t need to be aided. If you were lucky, you could put on the TV and sit with him for a while, and once you were sure he was enraptured by whatever was happening onscreen, you would sneak off to shower or get a breath of fresh air.

Johnny wasn’t stupid though—on the contrary, he was frighteningly intelligent—and he caught onto your tricks within about a week. To combat you sneaking off, he had begun to hold your hand whenever he was near you, his thumb idly tracing your knuckles as you both sat, your legs on his lap, and watched TV. Anytime he felt your hand slip from his, his eyes would flick to you expectantly, his head tilting in a manner not unlike a dog. Any innocence in the face of a dog was lost in Johnny’s knowing, almost taunting gaze.

“Need anythin’, lass?”

You cleared your throat, eyes darting to Johnny’s hand wrapping around yours once more, playing delicately with your fingers absentmindedly. “I just need to shower, that’s all.”

His eyes lit up, and you swore he started to salivate at the prospect.

“Alone,” you clarified, and he frowned.

“What if ye fall in the shower? I cannae be there to catch ye if I’m locked out now, lass, can I?”

You brushed off his concerns and stood, retracted your hand from his, and ignored the cold loss of contact. “I’ll be fine, Johnny. If I need anything, I’ll call out to you, I promise.”

Unluckily for you, this seemed to be the one time you actually needed Johnny’s help, as you slipped and took a tumble in the shower, knocking your head on the wall as you fell.

Within an instant, Johnny had forced the sliding door open with an almighty crash and rushed to your side. Falling to his knees, he ran his hands along you, eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of injury.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, are ye hurt bonnie? Ye bleedin’? What’d ye do?”

You hissed in pain as you let Johnny’s hands take over you, for once taking comfort in his concern for you. “Fuck, my ass,” you said, wincing.

“That can be arranged later, but are ye in any pain currently?”

For a brief moment you forgot your pain as you rolled your eyes at the man before you, unsure whether to hit him in the face or the balls first. You were quickly brought back to reality as your head and foot throbbed in pain.

“Fell on my foot weird and bumped my head too, fuck that hurt like a bitch,” you spat, hand going to cup the side of your head, but Johnny's own hand beat you to it. His rough and calloused hand almost petted your hair, and you found yourself leaning into the touch. Your eyes met his, and a look of sheer affection and care passed over his eyes, making your heart momentarily stutter in your chest.

"Ye don't seem concussed to me, bonnie, but lets wrap ye up in a towel and get that foot propped up, an' I'll keep an eye on ye for the time bein'. That sound alright?"

You couldn't help but nod and for once accept the care that Johnny was offering you. For once he wasn't making (as many) lewd jokes, wasn't hovering over you like some sort of housefly, wasn't finding ways to bother you with his mild creepiness. You watched with tentative owl-like eyes as he turned off the shower and wrapped you in a towel, careful not to touch you anywhere he shouldn't, careful not to startle you as he lifted you.

He carried you as though you were precious cargo, cradled you with your head tucked into his chest as if he were rescuing you from a burning building and fuck, didn't that feel nice; to be cared for.

You felt almost empty when he placed you delicately in your bed, whining at the loss of contact and shivering at the lack of warmth.

"Ach, I ken, lass, I ken. I'll be there in a moment, don't ye worry yer bonnie little head," Johnny cooed, and you watched as he walked into the kitchen to grab ice for your foot, wrapping it up in a hand towel before propping it under your foot.

You sighed, for once not in annoyance, as he climbed into bed with you, tucking your body into his side and running his hand through your hair. Despite being naked in bed with a fully clothed man, for once you didn't feel uncomfortable around Johnny. You felt safe.

"Thanks, Johnny," you whispered, your heart stuttering once more as you felt his chest rumble in acknowledgment, his chin resting on your head.

Following this incident, you're less inclined to bat Johnny away as he hovers around you, his hands darting to your sides if you even slightly wobble. Of course, it doesn't make it any less annoying; you're mostly just happy to know it all comes from a place of genuine concern.

Showers are different now. Johnny has taken to getting in with you, with the excuse that your body is "nothin' I haven't seen before, lass, and I cannae have ye fallin' and hittin' yer head again now, can I?"

You supposed he was right to be concerned, but there was no way you were letting him stand in that tiny shower with you. At his towering height, you were sure his body would catch the majority of the water, and you'd leave the shower no cleaner than when you got in. Johnny instead had to settle for standing just outside the shower, blue eyes piercing through the glass screen of the shower and roaming all over your body whenever he felt you weren't paying attention to him. Licking his lips like a starved animal when you ran your hands along your breasts, the curve of your waist, the arch of your back, washing the soap suds from your body.

There were times when you'd felt a little adventurous, putting on a show for the man as you showered, dragging your hands along your body as though you were on stage, but never looking at Johnny. If you looked at him, you feared he'd know your game, know that you were doing this on purpose, doing this to taunt him.

He never reacted the way you expected. The minute you stepped out of the shower, patting yourself dry with your towel agonisingly slowly, he was out of the bathroom, out of your apartment and back in his own apartment, muttering to himself all the way, to go do god knows what. Was he flustered? Or was he that damn horny that he needed to leave the apartment you'd shared for a month now so that he could sort himself out? God only knew.

Roughly three months of this had passed, three months of a back and forth sexual tension that never seemed to amount to anything, and Johnny still hadn't left your apartment. Despite the fact that you were walking completely fine now, your foot confirmed via doctor and x-ray that it was healed, Johnny was still in your apartment.

You tried broaching the topic lightly, spouting nonsense to him about how happy you were that your foot was healed now. He shared in your joy of course, but didn't make any effort to budge from “his spot” on the couch. You continue onward, talking about how excited you were to get back to doing things for yourself, and how exhausted he must be from helping you for so long.

“Ah it’s no trouble, bonnie, no sweat off my back helpin' ye out.” The way he grinned at you suggested either he was completely oblivious to your attempts at getting him to leave, or he was well and truly aware but knew he had somehow already won this battle. You had no idea which it was.

Once you were sure he wouldn't take indirect, passive aggressive comments, you dropped the big guns. "My foot isn't broken anymore," you said, matter-of-factly one day, sitting across from Johnny at the table.

Johnny frowned, ducking under the table for a brief moment, before resurfacing once more. "Well, yer certainly not cut out tae be a detective, pretty sure it's been outta that boot for about a week or two now, lass."

You bit your cheek to keep from grinning, and soldier onwards. "So when are you moving out?"

Johnny's fork clatters to the table, and you fear he may even start to tear up, based on the look on his face. "Move out?" he sputters, getting up to walk around the table to you, placing his hands on the back of your chair and bending down to your eye level. "I cannae move out now, lass, not when yer in the most dangerous stage of healin' a broken bone!"

You raised a brow at the man. "The most dangerous stage?" you deadpanned. There was no way this man was serious. You were completely healed, the doctor had confirmed it to the pair of you—mostly to Johnny—multiple times.

"Of course, it's when the doctor tells ye yer healed that yer most likely tae break it again. Ye put too much trust in the bone and start bein' reckless, and all of a sudden yer on the floor again with a secondary fracture, and ye've kicked me out and ye cannae call for help and ye bleed tae death on the floor."

You blink up at Johnny, trying as hard as you can to find some sort of wriggle room that will create some space between you. "Johnny I promise you, I won't get up to anything reckless. I wasn't even a reckless person before the break, I doubt I’d go and do anything dangerous now.”

He clicked his fingers at you, eyes wide. "And that there's yer issue! Ye don't even need tae do anythin' reckless tae break a bone, lass; it happens in the blink of an eye!" He stood back up to his full height with his arms crossed and stared down at you with a steely gaze. "I'm stayin' right here, keepin' ye safe through this perilous period, whether ye think ye need it or not."

You begrudgingly drop it for a little, keeping a cautious eye on him as he continued to flit about your apartment through the days, cleaning as he went, cooking the two of you meals from the recipe book he'd bought recently, sitting across from you at the table and smiling warmly at you whenever you made eye contact, squeezing your hand as you sat on the couch together. There were times when he'd approach you from behind as you stood washing dishes in the kitchen. He'd wrap his arms around your middle and rest his chin on your shoulder just to watch you as you worked.

"You need anything?" You muttered to him, as he nosed at your neck.

His hands slipped to your waist and gave it a squeeze. "Nah," he murmured, his hot breath tickling your neck and making your own catch in your throat. "Just wanted to hold ye for a bit."

Over time, you begin to become suspicious that Johnny might have convinced himself that the two of you are dating, given the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way he cradles you in bed at night. With such constant close contact, even you begin to question whether you would consider this normal for neighbours to do. A voice in the back of your mind tells you it's very much not, and you should probably just bite the bullet and confront the situation head on, like that's ever going to happen. You were quick to silence that voice.

Johnny's obsession with keeping you as close as possible bleeds out into your trips out as well, always in contact with you somehow as you walk together to the park or the library, holding your hand as if you're his lifeline.

On the rare off-chance that he happened to briefly not be by your side one day, another man approached you, and you chatted absentmindedly. He seemed friendly enough, and you found yourself enjoying this casual conversation. You frowned when the colour seemed to suddenly drain from the man's face, his eyes staring up at something behind you.

You were reassured, if not a little dejected, to feel a familiar hand wrap around your own, knowing it was just Johnny behind you, and not some murderer.

"Ye mind steppin' back from my girl?" Johnny seethed, and the man put his hands up in surrender.

"All yours, pal. We were just chatting, honestly."

You felt bad for the guy, offering him an apologetic look as Johnny stared daggers at him.

"Just chattin, aye? Is eyein' her up 'just chattin'? Tryin tae stake yer claim on what’s not yers? I'm not daft, I know what ye were doin'. I best not see ye near my girl again, aye?"

You turned to Johnny, horrified at the prospect of him threatening someone over something as trivial as a conversation, and tried to apologise to the man as best as you could. "Sorry, he's not usually like this, I promise. He's actually a sort of okay guy once you get to know him, I swear."

The man looked incredulously between you and Johnny, before shaking his head. "You oughta put a leash on him," he muttered, giving Johnny a dirty look. "Fuckin guard dog of a man," he spat, before trudging away.

In an instant, you whipped around to look at Johnny, horrified. "What the fuck was that?"

Johnny shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "Didn't like the way he was lookin' at ye."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, steering the pair of you in the direction of our apartment your apartment. "Didn't like the way he was looking at me, honestly," you muttered under your breath, only feeling partly annoyed at Johnny scaring off some random guy you were happily speaking to. You promptly ignored the part of you that was quite happily turned on by the way Johnny so eagerly protected what he thought was his, and especially ignored the part of you that secretly enjoyed the idea. Being his.

What a strange thought.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #Johnny soap MacTavish x reader #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish

[talesofadragon]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭?

Summary: After a Quidditch incident, Draco ends up suffering from mild amnesia, unable to remember the events of the last few years. The situation proves to be quite bleak when he fails to remember that muggleborn Y/N Y/L/N, who he had always antagonized in the past, is his secret girlfriend. 

Warnings: Memory loss, slight injury 

Pairing: Draco x Muggleborn!Reader

Year and House: Unspecified 

Word count: 3.8K

All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist

𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

In all his years at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy was notoriously known for his condescending sneers and abysmal behavior. A spoiled brat, many liked to say, he was so deeply rooted in his skewed and twisted ways that there wasn’t an ounce of redemption in him. 

It was known around Hogwarts that Professor Snape finally being introduced to shampoo would have a relatively higher chance of occurrence than witnessing the Malfoy heir saying something nice to just about anyone. But if someone had the misfortune of stumbling upon the hidden alcove near the Great Hall, they would scurry away to Madame Pomfrey’s, seeking an immediate remedy for their unstable minds. 

“Dray.” A gentle voice softly echoed around the alcove. “If you keep this up, you’ll be late.” 

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically, letting his silver irises do a full turn before they settled back on the Y/E/C orbs he never ceased to fondly admire. “I’m their prized Seeker. They can’t begin a match without me.” 

“You’re so full of yourself.” Y/N shook her head, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. 

The Slytherin’s lips curled into a smirk as he put one foot in front of the other, causing Y/N to back away into the wall. “Perhaps, but that is one of the many things you love about me,” he said, twisting a strand of her hair around his forefinger.

“Idiot.” Y/N chuckled deeply, wrapping her arms around Draco’s neck. She placed a chaste kiss on his jaw, detaching herself from his arms. “Come on, Dray. You don’t want Harry to think he scared you into forfeiting, now do you?” 

That seemed to affect Draco because his smirk immediately molded into his usual sneer. He stepped back, his nose scrunching in disgust at the mere memory of Harry. “Don’t say his bloody name, Y/N,” he commanded, looking at the amused girl. 

Y/N shook her head delightfully, holding out her hand to interlace her fingers with Draco’s. “Go, love. Show him that you’re the better Seeker,” she encouraged. 

Draco cradled her face and kissed her tenderly on her cheek. He caressed her skin once more before giving her a warm smile. “Meet me here tonight, yeah?” he asked, holding onto her hand and walking backward out of the alcove. 

“Of course,” Y/N warmly replied, giving him one of her most beautiful smiles, reserved for no one but him.

“Y/N, over here!” 

The witch turned her attention away from the Quidditch pitch to the source of the noise. She beamed, waving back at Hermione and walking over to her. 

“Hermione.” Y/N hugged her friend tightly before she pulled away to greet Ron. “How are you both doing?” 

“Great. We’d feel even better once Harry catches that Snitch and Gryffindor beats Slytherin’s arse,” Ron commented. 

Although Y/N wasn’t here to cheer Harry or the Gryffindors, she curtly nodded, agreeing with Ron’s statement. “Do you mind if I sit with you two?” she asked politely. 

“Not at all!” answered Hermione, scooting over to allow Y/N to sit down comfortably. “Do you remember the first Quidditch match we watched together? It feels so long ago!” 

“I do,” Y/N replied with a longing look in her eyes. “It was Harry’s first match, too. I remember how you and I were gawking at the whole thing! It feels like such a long time ago.” 

“I know, right!” 

Y/N sat between Ron and Hermione, watching as the players began to fly into the pitch. She clapped when the Gryffindors appeared but refrained from wincing, cursing, or booing when it was the Slytherins that came into view. 

You see, Y/N and Draco’s relationship wasn’t exactly out in the open, and if it ever were, the entirety of Hogwarts would speculate that either one of the two counterparts had drank Amortentia or that the whole school was struck with a Confundus Charm. 

The reason was simple, their houses aside, Y/N and Draco never truly had gotten along, particularly due to their difference in blood status. 

While the Malfoy heir prided himself in his pureblood family tree, Y/N prided herself in her muggle roots. 

She had grown one house away from Hermione’s, and for the longest time ever, she had thought she was normal. Until, well, it proved that she wasn’t. 

When she came to Hogwarts, the witch’s gregariousness aided her in making plenty of friends from different houses, but her closest one remained Hermione. The girls had spent countless hours together, but despite their closeness, Y/N’s secret was one not even Hermione knew.

Despite Draco’s horrendous behavior toward her, he had learned to change, and even though Y/N hated him with a burning passion, she also learned to give him a second chance and see past his façade. 

Overtime, the two established a secret friendship that soon blossomed into something more. They had been together for over a year, and the two had never felt happier. 

Y/N, with a bashful smile, deviated her attention toward the pitch. Her eyes landed on Draco’s, who mouthed her an “I love you” before zooming past Graham Montague after spotting the Snitch. 

The witch was on the edge of her seat, anxiously peering to see if Draco was close to grabbing the little golden ball and winning the match. She noticed Ron groaning to her right while Hermione kept shouting words of encouragement, hoping Harry would hear her. 

“Oi, that tosser Malfoy’s about to catch the Snitch! Fred and George, one of you do something!” Ron yelled in an attempt at catching his brothers’ attention. 

Y/N crossed her fingers together, watching as Draco’s broom was inches away from Harry’s. The two began bumping into each other, completely oblivious of the events happening around them. 

“Bole sends a Bludger Harry Potter’s way—intercepted by Fred, or maybe was it George? Who cares—Angelina Johnson steals the Quaffle from Pucey—Derrick sends a Bludger—intercepted yet again by Gryffindor’s most valuable beaters, serves Slytherin right for such a foul and outrageous move—Bludger flies dangerously close to the Slytherin Seeker. Merlin’s beard. Draco Malfoy gets hit!” Lee Jordan commented, sending Y/N’s heart spiraling. 

Involuntarily, Y/N jumps to her feet among the crowd of Gryffindors, running to the edge of the bleachers. “Draco,” she whispers, eyes filled with tears. She clapped a hand on her mouth to muffle her silent cries. 

With a heavy heart, Y/N was forced to watch as Draco tumbled down from Merlin knows how much distance until his body met the ground. She could hear him wailing in pain, but the fear of what just happened kept her rooted in place, unable to do anything but gawk like all those around her. 

She watched as Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott rushed to their friend’s side, followed shortly after by Crabbe and Goyle.

“He deserved that, bloody git.” 

“Piss off, Weasley!” Y/N screeched, the words falling from her mouth without her consent. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw Hermione and Ron’s expressions. Her lower lip wobbled as her gaze switched between them and Draco. “I mean… he’s hurt. No one deserves that, not even Dr—Malfoy.” 

“You are too kind for your own good, Y/N,” Ron commented as he shook his head. 

The witch ignored him, her eyes going back to Draco, who was now unconscious and being hauled onto a stretcher,  completely oblivious of the pair of Y/E/C eyes worriedly studying him. 

Y/N was feeling terrible. She hadn’t been able to eat dinner due to the knots in the pit of her stomach. Consequently, she decided to hide behind a tapestry next to the Hospital Wing, constantly peering to see if Draco’s friends had left for dinner. 

Theodore Nott was the last to linger behind before he walked out the door. Y/N ducked behind the tapestry, keeping her ears on his footsteps and waiting for them to fade. 

When he left, she immediately dashed toward the Hospital Wing, reckoning she had a few minutes before one of his friends came back to bring Draco dinner. 

She walked closer to the beds in the back, her heart clenching at the sight. Draco had a bandage wrapped around his head and a cast on his left arm. One of his legs was supported by a pillow, and several bruises littered his face. 

“Oh, Draco,” Y/N whispered meekly with tears forming in her eyes. She rushed to his side, bringing her fingers to caress his cheeks. 

The contact made Draco’s eyes flutter open. As soon as he laid them on the girl, he yelled, briskly moving away from her touch. “What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Y/L/N?” 

Y/N gasped, recoiling back after his sudden anger. She peered to look around, trying to see if someone was there, which might explain her boyfriend’s hostility. “Love, there’s no one around.”

“What did you just call me?” he asked, disgust lacing his tone. Y/N’s heart broke at the way he spoke and how his silver eyes were looking at her with nothing but confusion and hate. 

“I…” she stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Draco, are you sure you’re alright?” 

Draco seemed about ready to throw a hex at Y/N and banish her out of the Hospital Wing. He looked at her incredulously, his lips molding into the most wicked sneer she’d ever seen him wear. “How dare you call me by my first name? You filthy little mudblood.”

Y/N stumbled back, dazed at the word that just came out of his mouth. She hadn’t heard him say it, not just to her, but to anyone for that matter, ever since their friendship had begun. 

She knew Draco wouldn’t say it even if his friends were around because he ignored Y/N whenever he was with them instead of tormenting her. 

“What’s going on here?” Y/N heard, whipping her head around to be met with Blaise Zabini. He placed the plate he was holding down on the table beside Draco’s bed, turning to look at the distressed witch.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, shaking like a leaf. Blaise’s brows furrowed while Draco loudly scoffed, making Y/N wince. 

“Y/L/N,” Blaise said. “Why are you here?” 

Y/N ignored his question. “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded, clenching her teeth. 

Blaise looked confusingly at her, not sure whether to answer or not. “He has two broken ribs, a twisted knee, and a broken arm.” 

“Why the bloody hell are you asking, mudblood?” 

Y/N winced at Draco’s choice of words, closing her eyes before she could see Blaise’s brown eyes widen in shock. He hadn’t heard Draco say that word in a while. He was almost sure it had left his vocabulary. 

“His head,” Y/N whispered, trying to hide her tears by rearranging her hair. “He hit his head, didn’t he?” 

Blaise bit on his lower lip, unsure what to say. Eventually, he sighed and crossed his arms, peering at the witch. “He did. He has temporary amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything from the past two years.” 

Y/N’s head shot up, her mossy eyes coming into view. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Blaise answered. 

Y/N turned back to look at Draco, her heart breaking at the thought of him forgetting her. She wanted to ask when his memory might return or if there were any ways to stimulate it. But the only thing that came out of her chapped lips was a pained sob. She quickly muffled her cries with her hands and left the room. 

Potions was by far her least favorite subject. She had always struggled with it, and frankly speaking, Snape always creeped her out. But having Draco as her Potions partner always made her mood switch. 

The stolen glances and secretive touches the two shared made her heart jolt with anticipation. Unfortunately for her, Draco was still being retained in the Hospital Wing, so even his mere presence couldn’t cheer her up. 

Y/N made sure to pay careful attention in class, deciding to take good notes and use it as an excuse to go see Draco. Although she was used to borrowing his notes, she decided that for once in her life, she needed to put all her energy into focusing on Snape’s lesson. 

Once the class was done, Y/N was more than happy to have a free period. She breathed in deeply, mentally preparing herself for the insults Draco would throw her way. 

Nonetheless, the witch squared her shoulders and clutched her notes, making her way to the Hospital Wing. 

“What are you doing here, mudblood?” 

Y/N cursed under her breath, finding Pansy Parkinson sitting on the edge of Draco’s bed, firmly holding his hand. 

“Hello, Parkinson,” Y/N spat. She ignored the witch altogether, turning to her boyfriend. “I came to give you these.” 

She extended her hand, handing him a copy of her Potions notes. “Why would Draco need your notes, Y/L/N?” Pansy made a disgusted face, scrunching her nose as she peered at the parchment papers. 

Y/N inhaled deeply, trying her utmost best to remain calm even though she wanted nothing more but to strangle the Slytherin witch. She exhaled an even deeper breath, her emotions all over the place, not knowing whether she should cry or smile when she laid her eyes on Draco. 

“I don’t think you remember, but you and I are paired together in Potions. And since you’re stuck here, I thought to give you those so you won’t fall behind.” 

Silence fell over the three as Draco and Y/N stared at one another. The witch chewed on her lips, wishfully thinking that Draco might say something nice to her. 

To her surprise, he threw the parchment papers aside and rolled his eyes. “If you’re expecting me to thank you, then you’re dafter than I thought, Y/L/N.” 

Y/N sighed, clutching her satchel a little tighter. “I hope you feel better soon,” she whispered under breath, trying hard not to cry as Draco ignored her. He turned his attention to Pansy, and Y/N didn’t miss the way he clutched her hand, breaking the witch’s heart even more than she thought possible. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole class,” Hermione remarked, glancing at Y/N, “are you sure you’re alright?” 

The girl sighed dejectedly, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m okay,” she replied, hoping this would be a sufficient answer to ease Hermione’s worries. But it didn’t seem to convince the muggleborn in the slightest. 

“No, you aren’t, Y/N/N. You haven’t been yourself in over a week. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Y/N dismissed her friend, looking to see if Professor Sprout had heard them talking in her class. 

Hermione bit on her lip, scooting closer to Y/N’s side. “Does it have to do with a certain blond?” she whispered so no one could hear, making Y/N’s eyes widen in panic. 

Y/N would’ve loved to say no, but sadly, she had always been a terrible liar. Draco would normally wait for her to deny a claim or make up excuses to confront her until she admits the truth. 

She resorted to opening and closing her mouth, letting out a loud exhale when no coherent thought nor valuable excuse came out her mouth. “Please don’t tell anyone.” 

“I won’t,” Hermione assured, covering Y/N’s hand with her own. She smiled gently at the girl, her brown orbs glistening with sincerity. “Is this because he’s in the Hospital Wing? I heard he was getting out today.” 

Y/N hummed, nodding in affirmation. “It’s just that Draco doesn’t remember me, Hermione. He has temporary amnesia, and all he remembers is that I’m this m-mudblood he met during his first year. It really hurts.” 

“He used to treat you much better, I’m guessing,” Hermione said, and Y/N nodded meekly with tears on the edge of her lashes. 

“I miss him.” 

“He’ll get better. I’m sure he’ll remember you in no time. You’re unforgettable, Y/N/N, and I’m sure it won’t take long for Malfoy to remember that,” Hermione assured, making Y/N genuinely smile for the first time in a week. 

That same day, Y/N decided she wanted to visit Draco again. But this time, she wanted to give him something that might help spark his memory. 

She had walked up to Sprout and asked her if she could pick out some flowers. “My friend is in the Hospital Wing,” Y/N had said, knowing well that Professor Panoma Sprout was one of the kindest people at Hogwarts. “I’d really appreciate it if I could get him some flowers. Not too much; a couple is more than enough.” 

Being her kind self, Sprout offered her to take as much as she wanted. So Y/N went to work, assembling a beautiful assortment of myosotis flowers.

She headed to the Hospital Wing, sending Draco a charming smile when she saw him getting ready to leave, his bandages all taken off and his bruises almost faded. 

“I’m glad to see you’re better.” 

“Mudblood,” he spat, buttoning his shirt. “Why are you so adamant about pissing me off with your presence?” 

Y/N’s heart clenched at the words, but she decided against saying anything. She placed the flowers on Draco’s bedside table and took a step back. “I just wanted to give you these. I’m glad to know you’re alright. I hope you regain your memory soon.” 

Before Draco could spit some more words, Y/N turned on her heels and left. Draco remained dumbfounded, staring at the flowers she had brought, his mind stinging for a moment. 

“Why does it smell like Y/L/N in here?” Blaise asked as he walked inside the room, his nose scrunching. 

“She was here a couple of minutes ago. Brought me these,” Draco explained, pointing at the flowers. 

Blaise studied the bluish blossoms, his brown eyes scanning the assortment. “What the hell are these?” 

“They’re called forget-me-not,” Draco said, reaching out for his green robes. “At least, that’s what the muggles call them.” 

Blaise crossed his arms, tapping his foot against the tiled floor. “Why would Y/L/N get you flowers? These in particular.” 

“I don’t know, mate. She’s been acting weird; it’s creepy.”

“Draco, maybe there’s something about her you’re forgetting,” Blaise remarked, slumping into the seat next to the blond Slytherin’s bed. “She seemed worried about you, and she visited you every single day you were here; she even brought you flowers.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, carefully looking at his friend. “What are you insinuating? That something is going on between me and that mudblood?”

Blaise cringed, looking away. “Mate, I don’t think I’ve heard you say ‘mudblood’ in over a year, especially to Y/L/N.”

Draco’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I would never be caught dead with someone as putrid as her.” 

“I’m not sure. How did you even know what muggles call these flowers if you haven’t at least spoken to a muggleborn?” Blaise rolled his eyes.

Draco huffed as he walked over the flowers, inspecting the foliage. “We learned it in Herbology last year.” 

“Hold on for a moment, mate. You remember last year’s Herbology lesson?”

Draco made a face. “I…” He paused, thinking back. “I remember these flowers. Someone told me what the muggles call them, but I don’t remember who.” 

Blaise placed a hand on his chin, thinking back about last year. “Y/L/N!” He all but yelled, jumping to his feet. “That day, Y/L/N was your partner. I remember she told you something, and you kept staring at her after she said it.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Blaise. I didn’t stare at her. Besides, she was only telling me what those flowers symbolize to muggles,” he replied nonchalantly before his eyes widened, and he peered back at the flowers 

Draco looked intently at the foliage. He vividly recalled how Y/N spoke about those flowers, explaining that they symbolized true love and fidelity. She had remarked that they came in different colors, but her personal favorites were always bluish. 

Then his head started to throb slightly, and he clutched it at the same time her laugh echoed in his ears. He recalled those mystifying Y/E/C eyes and her luscious lips. 

From hushed whispers to stolen glances to the brushing of fingertips against skin. Draco remembered it all. Most importantly, he remembered his Y/N. “Merlin’s beard, I’m a real wanker.” 

Before Blaise could say a word, Draco had made a mad dash toward the crowded hallways. He rushed down the steps, looking left and right in search of Y/N. 

It felt like eternity when it was merely a couple of minutes before his silver eyes landed on her slumped figure. 

She was standing with the golden trio, completely lost in her own world. She had her book clutched to her chest as she gazed at the ground in an attempt at hiding her tears. 

“Y/N!” Draco couldn’t help but say out loud, not only catching her off guard, but also managing to get everyone’s attention on them. 

He marched determinedly toward her, ignoring how Harry and Ron’s noses crinkled. And before Y/N could do or say anything, he backed her into the wall and kissed her fiercely. 

Y/N’s eyes widened significantly, the books in her hands toppling to the ground. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Draco, her fingers trailing his neck until they found their rightful place in his platinum locks. 

She closed her eyes, melting every time Draco’s lips delicately brushed hers, fireworks going off from the tips of her fingers to her entire body. She kissed him fervently, her lips moving carefully yet boldly against his lips as if it were a dance, and the two had perfectly mastered the steps. 

“You remember,” Y/N breathed, a wide smile on her face as she rested her forehead against his. 

Draco matched her jovial expression, pulling out a single forget-me-not from his pocket. “How could I ever forget you, my love?” 

Y/N’s eyes picked with tears at the kind sentiment. She let him place the flower behind her ear. She encased him in her arms, filling him with warmth and affection just as much as he did to her. 

“I love you,” Draco whispered, ignoring Ron and Harry’s grumbling. 

Y/N’s heart fluttered in an instant, her soul being lit on fire, burning with a sudden passion she never felt before. “I love you, too.”

-----------------------

Originally, I had planned to write this with Theo's sister in mind. But I quite liked how it turned out! What are your thoughts?

For those who want to be tagged, head over to “The Owlery” section on my profile and send me a message!

Until the next one xx

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine

[ghostytoad]

hey!! if you’re taking requests, i’d like to request the rottmnt boys falling for a fem! reader who’s basically like your stereotypical raph. she loves fighting, loves working out, loud asf, short-tempered, blunt, sarcastic, cursed with resting bitch face, all that jazz. but, once you get to know her, she’s actually really funny and sweet. NEVER afraid to speak her mind, so she may come across as rude or sassy at times, but she never really means to be. DEFINITELY has mild adhd and is on the autism spectrum. 🫶

Hfhdks yippe, my v first request!! tbh the boys can use a little extra chaos in their life so this was really fun to write abt. hopefully it's decent, i'm still v new to writing this kinda stuff!!

* Kiss with a Fist *

ROTTMNT Boys x Fem! Raph-esque reader who is secretly a sweet softie

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for an intimidating, snappy, but secretly sincere human.

Headcanons for: Raph, Donnie, Leo, & Mikey

Fem! Reader; Romantic; Fluff; Mild violence || Words: 4k

Feel free to send in more requests and prompts!!

Raph:

to be honest, raph was initially intimidated and wary of y/n when they first met

like sure, he's used to his brothers being a bit too curt and impulsive and april can come off as sassy and overbearing but none of that compares to the levels y/n is on

something about how forward she can be really puts the poor turtle on edge

until he starts getting to know her a little better, finding out more about her hobbies and all

after a period of initial surprise, he starts getting used to y/n's presence in the lair

she fits in almost naturally in their family dynamic; she's basically one of them now and he loves having someone around who shares his interests

plus he could always use a workout buddy; not that his brothers aren't good spotters but he could always use a break from their antics

will take y/n to every wrestling event & spend the entire time gushing about his newest wrestling idol and when they're not out and about beating up bad guys or playing video games, he will allow y/n to sit in and spot him while he powers through his rigorous workouts

he enjoys being able to swap workout tips and tricks with y/n; treats every little bit of advice she gives as divine wisdom & he will take it all to heart

he likes to brag to his brothers about how strong y/n is, especially considering that she can keep up with his mutant abilities; everything she does impresses him to no end

opened a jar of pickles without help? amazing

landed on her feet after a pretty high tumbling jump? absolutely incredible

being able to handle his occasional hugs? literally the best thing in the world to him

having y/n around motivates raph to train harder and push himself past his limits

unfortunately, this has led to a few injuries-

"uh oh. y/n ain't gonna be happy to hear about this..."

cue the scolding, the lectures, and the bedrest. y/n's orders. but raph secretly enjoys being doted on by y/n so he won't say no

it didn't take raph too long to realize his feelings for y/n

he'd been picking up on little hints here and there, but he'd talk himself out of that silly train of thought every single time

like when he'd catch her watching him train and could feel that rush of heat burn at his cheeks

'i've just been training too hard and it's way too hot in here'

and when he couldn't get y/n off his mind when she wasn't around?

'i'm just worried about her is all. who knows what kinda trouble her loud mouth might get her in-'

but it was when y/n was comforting raph after a bust mission one particular night that really did him in and confirmed his feelings

It's bad enough when the brothers fail in their latest mission, but to get their butts handed to them by Hypno of all villains? Eesh, talk about major humiliation stink. The loss had them all silently slinking back into their lair, hoping to sleep off the defeat at the hands of their unimpressive foe. Raph was just about to make his way into his room to mop when he spotted Y/N waiting up for them in the lair's living room. It was upon seeing her sitting there with an unreadable, stern expression that a realization hit him. They had plans later.

"Hey, sorry, YN. No Brunch 'n Punch tonight. Raph's a lil' tired..." his low and gruff voice did little to hide the timid air in his tone. "I-I'll make it up to ya though! Promise!"

Despite his stuttered attempt to console Y/N and her anticipated disappointment, his tired expression and wilted posture gave away just how exhausted and downtrodden the towering mutant was. It was more than enough to tell Y/N a few things:

Raph had another rough day.

Raph once again pushed himself and got hurt.

And Raph needed someone to help carry that weight.

Before he could continue his defeated shuffle past Y/N, he felt a sudden tug on the lip of his rugged shell. Not even a second after, he felt his torso being enveloped by the subtle warmth of what could only be a person. Was Y/N hugging him...? Looking down from his stunned silence, he found Y/N with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, face hidden by the jutting ridges of his plastron. Unable to find the words to break the tense silence surrounding them, Raph simply lets out a low chuckle as his hand gently caresses the back of Y/N's head.

"If this is about me bailing on our plans, Raph gets it. You probably hate m-"

"What am I gonna do with you, Raph...? What am I going to do if you won't take care of yourself..." Y/N's voice was unusually small.

"Say what?" The mutant didn't know what to make of the wavering tone in Y/N's voice. Was she mad? Was she worried? It was unlike Y/N to be this... vulnerable.

After a few more moments of silence, Raphael broke out of his confusion with a realization. Y/N was still holding him. The exhaustion and shame began lifting its shrouding curse off of him as his body eased into the comforting embrace. So warm. So gentle. So caring. Everything about Y/N was perfect, even the parts of her personality that she chose to share only with him. It was then that another, more pressing realization came to his mind.

Damn, does this boy got it bad. He's in love.

Donnie

he's entirely put off by y/n's whole demeanor and keeps his distance at first; like raph on his own can be a headache to deal with, but now there's two of them??

he won't outright avoid her, he just prefers quieter company

he can't exactly say they share many similar interests, but y/n's newfound spot as a member of his little family gives him incentive to at least try finding some common ground to bond over

so when it comes to the more physical and brawn-heavy aspect of his work, he can truly appreciate y/n's constant presence

god knows he can't trust his brothers to be careful or attentive enough to help him in the lab and april isn't always around to enthusiastically offer her assisstance when needed... but y/n just happens to be the perfect solution to his otherwise frustrating problem

dare he say it: "she's reliable and more importantly always happy to lend a hand"

and donnie really values the way y/n is willing to listen to him drone on about his latest projects and mapping out his complex thought process; all with very little complaint (a huge plus for him!)

in fact, she even seems eager to learn and is quick to pick up on the nuances of his work. he can also understand/empathize with y/n's misunderstood demeanor when it comes to her stone faced expression ('or resting bitch face, as she so eloquently put it')

donnie's never been good at expressing himself; he knows how vexing it can be when everyone seems intent on misreading one's emotions based on something as fickle as facial expression

and the more time donnie spends with y/n, the more he's able to observe her and her subtle mannerisms

it's gotten to the point where he can pick up on her subtle cues and accurately read her mood better than anyone else. to his brothers, it's as if y/n and donnie share a telepathic connection with how easily they can communicate with a simple glance

it doesn't take long for him to get used to y/n's more rambunctious and wild behaviors; when he's not busy working, he will sometimes invite her on their less eventful missions and adventures

he won't say it out loud, but he's really come to respect y/n's combat prowess and her ability to hold her own

admires it even... one might even say he lov-

'nope. no. nein. not the l-word...'

donnie's always quick to catch himself before he can finish off that thought but he can't help himself; cute and mean are just his type after all

whether or not he chooses to pursue those feelings though....

well, let's just say y/n really didn't leave him a choice after she practically saved his life during one fairly unexpected encounter

It hadn't been a hard mission. The Hamato brothers had successfully thwarted another run-of-the-mill robbery at the appropriately named Run of the Mill Pizzeria. Relishing in their triumph, the four turtles, joined by their newest companion Y/N, decided to make a night of it and order a few celebratory 'zzas. It was as Donnie was making his way to the booth that he was halted by the stumbling grip of an iebriated yokai yanking him back by his shoulder. The patron's swaying form crumpled forward as they tried supporting their full weight on the hand that was still firmly locked on Donnie's shoulder.

"'Ey you.... I know you..." the strong stench of alcohol burned at the turtle's nostrils as he furrowed his brow in confusion, "Yer the guy from that brawl last night. Ya dropped my drink!"

Ah. Mistaken identity. Before Donnie could correct them, the yokai straightened in a menacing stance, lifting their hand's grip from him and balling into a fist.

"You... YOU! You owe me a new drink AND a new shirt! Ya ruined MY GOOD SHIRT!"

Ever the smug one, Donnie simply shook his head and with condescension dripped from his lazy grin.

"Perhaps laying off on the booze might help to improve your memory. You're clearly looking for a fight and I'm not one to hold back in battle." With a wave of his hand, he feigned a dramatic sigh, "But I'd reconsider what would be one too many bar fights. I mean, you've obviously done your brain enough damage."

What followed was the unmistakable and resounding thud of a body hitting the restaurant walls. The remaining brothers watched amusedly from their booth as the purple-coded brother peeled from the newly dented wall and collapsed onto the floor, dumbfounded and only mildly in pain.

"He'll be fine~" Leo mused as he caught sight of Y/N's horrified expression.

"He was kinda askin' for it..." Raph shrugged, unwilling to stop Y/N who was now stomping a warpath from the booth to the drunken offender.

"HEY, ASSHOLE!" were the only words uttered before Y/N's flurry of furious punches unleashed themselves onto the yokai's face. Donnie watched fondly as Y/N's strike after strike seemed to reduce the belligerent patron to a pathetic and unintelligable mess on the floor.

Something about her pose, the way her bruised fists were held up in triumphant victory as she loomed over the monster's unconscious form, seemed to pull at the deepest, darkest parts of the turtle's heart. Was she always this badass and cool? Was it the lighting? Was it the concussion setting in? Has she always looked this cute?

"Wow... You're incredible....." Donnie muttered under his breath with awe.

So much for science being his only love.

Leo:

honestly? the more chaos, the better

raph is great and all, but he always had the annoying tendency to boss everyone around, and his ever-growing worry chasm was really starting to irk leo

so it's great to have someone around that isn't always on his case about his stunts or lecture him on dull things like responsibility and duty and all

while he does take into account the fact that Y/N is a human, she's a special human with special priviliges in his mind; meaning open invites to every mission (no matter how dangerous) and her own front row seat to every single convoluted plan leo's made

he's always there to actively enable her loud habits, he just lives for the banter and drama; he calls it his very own telenovela

obviously he'd never let her get too far into it and when things start getting a little too real, he will try getting y/n to tone down the snark and deescalate the situation

can't have his new bestie getting herself into trouble after all! and he'd never hear the end of it from his brothers if she ever got hurt bc of his encouragement

as boring as he finds training to be, having y/n around really helps to spice things up. he's always calling dibs on having her for sparring partner duties and won't hold back much

on the rare occasion that he's not getting into trouble and causing mischief with y/n, he'll show her around all the best stargazing spots new york has to offer (via portal ofc)

no reason in particular, it's just nice getting to see the stars past the haze of the city's light pollution and it seems like something friends do

'it's totally normal for friends to stargaze alone together, right?'

yeah, no he's sure of it. he just really happens to enjoy y/n's company without the constant interruption of his brothers' teasing

it's not like he's asked her to go with him on a magic carpet ride or anything

oh wait...

right, there was that one time when they decided to stop by the mystic city antiques shop and try out the dubiously named "magic carpet" the shop was selling. how was he supposed to know it was a flying magic carpet?? magic could literally mean anything!

he didn't complain when y/n would hold onto him as they weaved through the skies of the hidden city. and it was cute watching her face scrunch up with laughter every time he made a joke

but that's just friends being friends, right??

'this better not be what being wrong feels like because it's not a great feeling at all'

"Alright, Leo. This'd better be good for you to be calling me up at 3 in the morning." April's voice hissed through the call, still rough with sleep and irritation as Leo had called her up on a school night of all times.

Leo gripped tightly at the phone as if it were his only line of defense from the terrible, terrible ordeal he was about to confide. "Apes, you gotta help me! I think I might be losing my edge or something."

"Your... what?"

"My edge!" Leo reiterated, panic set in his tone, "My mojo! The Leo-factor! I think I might be losing it and I don't know how to get it back!"

A few moments of soft shuffling sounding from the phone's receiver met Leo's frantic explanation. April must've been slowly forcing herself to sit up from where she'd been sleeping peacefully only minutes ago.

"... don't 've time for this..." was all that could be deciphered between shuffles.

The disgruntled girl could only sigh, "Okay. Leo. What makes you think you've 'lost your mojo'?"

Leo paused in thought, humming low as he tried to recall his recent mojo-related blunders.

"Okay, okay, so! You know how Y/N's been hanging around the lair a lot more lately? It's like every time she's there, I get thrown off my game. And I mean, I really get thrown off! With everything!"

"Mhm?" April deadpanned.

"None of my one-liners seem to land with her and it's because I keep forgetting how to talk mid-sentence! So I end up sounding like some stuttering moron! And I keep running into things and tripping over my own feet when I see her like I'm the clumsiest chump alive. And just the other night I was out testing the sickest tricks on Mikey's new board- don't let him know that by the way- when she shows up outta nowhere with her smug little smile and throws me off my moves! I mean, all I see is her eyes on me and the next thing I know, I've got a mouthful of gravel and concrete. It's like she's sapping all the cool out of me and I need it to stop like yesterday!" Leo had to take a moment to catch his breath as he explained his troubling situation, clearly unaware of just how clueless he was. April could only wait silently for the information to sink in, a sleepy scowl painted on her face. God, she could just strangle the boy if he were here.

"So you're telling me that you called me up in the middle of the night to tell me that you have a crush?" she hissed once again, the gritting of her teeth audible.

"A what? Crush? Oho, no no no no." the mutant scoffed in disbelief, "I'm telling you that Y/N could be a witch or some kind of energy vampire or something and we-"

"Leo, let me ask you something. What's more likely: The fact that Y/N is a mojo-sucking vampire witch or the fact that you may have some feelings for her?"

The thought hadn't really occured to him before. Could it really be something as simple as a crush that's doing him in? He had been feeling a little different as of late... But he just assumed it was all from the mutant witch powers Y/N might've been using on him. He took a few moments to contemplate, a dark blush gradually forming across his face the more he thought of Y/N.

Well, what's not to like about her? She's a certified badass, she's cool, she's never afraid to give it to ya straight. And underneath that tough exterior was an equally cool but much softer version that balanced out Leo's more impulsive and emotional side. Could it really be that Leo had feelings for Y/N?

".... Do you think Donnie can run a few tests to find out what kind of witch she is?"

"I'm hanging up now, Leo."

"NO, WAIT, I-" Dial tone.

Crush it is then. Man, did he hate being wrong.

Mikey:

ever the eternal optimist, mikey is never one to judge people and gives them every benefit of the doubt until he's forced to believe otherwise

so when he first meets y/n, he takes to her standoffish nature like bees on honey

instant besties right off the bat, even if they have their differences

he's quick to introduce y/n to everything mutant turtle life has to offer, whether it be inviting her over for a few rides on the half-pipe or introducing her to the cinematic magic that is jupiter jim and its many sequels

no matter what they do, he's always there to make sure she's having fun

mikey picks up on y/n's kinder side pretty quickly too

being emotionally intuitive and a self-proclaimed therapist, he is able to see through y/n's more abrasive personality and finds her gentler side to be just as exciting and fun, if not incredibly endearing

he'll even encourage her to be more open with that part of herself by insisting she join him in his little Dr. Feelings sessions he regularly holds for his brothers (totally not against their will)

during the whole session, he'll check in on y/n and ask if she has any thoughts on the matter

"what about you, y/n? you've been around us long enough to get a say. am i right or am i totally right?"

he knows he can trust her more blunt and forward nature to lay it down as it is

but he can also trust that she won't say anything to hurt them just for the sake of it

so she's a perfect fit for the role of Nurse Candid/Assisstant Tough Love

funny thing is, Dr. Feelings can't really talk mikey out of making a fool of himself in front of y/n

he tries not to be too clingy or push too many boundaries, but how can he resist?

she's like the highlight of his little adventures and he genuinely enjoys having her around all the time that he just *needs* to understand every part of what makes y/n her

together, they'd make the ultimate power couple!

er... power couple business-wise

purely professional in this unofficial practice

'unless.....'

time for the Love Doctor to pay mikey a little visit

"Candles? Check. Fancy silverware? Check. A deliciously decadent three course meal prepared by your truly? Check." Mikey took a moment to look over his fine work as he finished setting up a "platonic-but-can-be-romantic" dinner for Y/N. He'd been hard at work all week trying to come up with the perfect excuse to invite Y/N to the lair alone. It wasn't a date or anything! Well really, that was the trouble with this whole thing. It had to strike the right balance of friendly and intimate. With a hint of romance drizzled in. And a sprinkle of platonic fun. Gah, what a confusing mix.

Sighing thoughtfully, the young turtle set down the two artistically prepared culinary plates on the now satin-draped dining table that sat in the center of the projection room. Sure, it might've been a bit cliche but the quiet ambiance of the room was the best choice for a romantic candlelit dinner. Plus if the whole romance angle didn't pan out the way Mikey had hoped, a movie marathon would surely break the tension and shift gears into friendly hangout mode. Everything about this night had been planned to a T, down to the fact that his brothers were busy on another patrol that was sure to take all night.

The orange-clad mutant gave the setup another quick once over and, satisfied with his creation, glanced up at the clock that sat above the projector screen.

"7:18 and I still got a few precious moments to spare!"

"Spare for what?" a muffled voice asked from the door.

Oh no. What were they doing here?!

"Hey hey, little brother~ Nice setup you got goin' here. Very élégante~" Leo teased with his mouth full of pizza.

"L-LEO?! I THOUGHT YOU GUYS SAID YOU WERE GONNA BE OUT UNTIL MORNING!"

"Uh, yeah? The patrol was supposed to keep us 'til morning." Leo shrugged nonchalantly as he licked pizza sauce from his fingers,"But as it turns out, Donnie isn't the math wizard he seems to think he is."

"SCOFF! My mathematical genius is not to be held accountable for YOUR poor planning!" From behind Leo, Donnie stormed in with an incredulous look as pizza sauce drenched his face and upper body.

"Look, if anything, MY PLAN did not call for explosives. That was all you, buddy!" The twin retorted, poking at Donnie's sauce-covered chest with his trusty odachi. Mikey could feel his right eye twitching as he watched the two bicker and consequently ruin his plans.

He seethed through gritted teeth, "You guys were supposed to be gone..."

The strained response brought the two brothers' attention back to their youngest sibling, both raising a brow in question.

"Oh yeah, what IS with this setup?" Leo's cocky smirk did little to hide the teasing behind his question. Did he know?

"Oi, guys! We still gotta clea-" Raph stumbled in, wiping his body down with a red soaked towel as he was presumably the most sauced up of the three. "Woah. Whatcha got going on in here, Mikey?"

Great. Just what he needed. As he did his best to keep his composure, all Michael could do was groan and slump down to his knees, withering with embarrassment before his brothers. "If you guys MUST KNOW, I had a very special night planned for me! I was gonna have a nice dinner with Y/N before you came back and messed with m-"

"Woah woah woah, are you telling me that my baby hermano has a date tonight?"

The heat suddenly rushed to Mikey's cheeks, taunting him and exposing his true motives to his brothers of all people. Raph and Leo compounded that humiliation with their slew of 'aww's and coos. Donnie simply gave his little brother an approving nod and thumbs up as the duo's teasing continued.

"I-It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Oh, it absolutely was.

"It's not that I like her, I just-"

Want her to be mine.

"I just needed to figure out how I feel!"

But he already knew. He was hopelessly in love.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #michelangelo #raphael #leonardo #donatello #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x oc #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x you #tmnt x oc #x reader #donnie #raph #leo #mikey #toady talks #toad talks #toady writes

[sunshinesdaydream]

Hello there! I have a request from your Clones Ice Cream page :) Can it please be with Kix and he helps the reader after they fall (reader is clumsy) with the blushing prompt?

Thank you for the ask! I had to take some inspiration from my own situation with being clumsy though.

And thanks to everyone so far for the asks sent in! I'm looking forward to everyone of them.

Hope you enjoy this!

Falling for You

Pairing: Kix x Reader Event: Sunshine's Follower Milestone Graphic dividers and Event graphics: by myself @sunshinesdaydream Rating: SFW WARNINGS: Mentioned spatial awareness deficiency, is referred to as clumsiness. Word count: 487

You had been seen to by the medics many times. The GAR frowned on even basic bacta bandages without “medical supervision”. So the scrapes you usually would have attended to on your own with a cleaning, ointment, and bandage became a trip to the medbay full of medics and Jedi Service Corp healers.

Being a mechanic with poor spatial awareness was one thing when you overstepped a rung on a loading ladder and simply went home that night, took some pain meds for your bruised “ego” and went on with life. Now it would call for a scan to make sure you hadn’t fractured your tailbone and one of the medic troopers fussing over you.  It didn’t matter who was there, you were always approached by the same trooper. Kix. 

Kix, probably the prettiest trooper in the GAR, the 501st for sure. He was kind and witty and you could probably go on all day about him. You absolutely did not want him to know exactly how clumsy you were. 

So far you had been able to play off every injury as something that happened while you worked. Cuts and scrapes were easily explained as typical to a mechanic’s day. 

“And how did you manage to get this?” He asked as he sprayed an antibiotic on your scraped knuckles. It was an odd time, he was alone in the med bay when you had arrived with your hand wrapped in a clean shop towel. 

The lie came easily as you focused on breathing and staying calm as he held your hand gently.  “Busted them on an engine compartment,” not that you had busted them when you had stumbled into a bulkhead with your hands full. 

“Hmmm” he hums, smoothing healing gel into your injuries.  He wraps your hand in a bandage. “Try to be more careful,” he said. You nod, inwardly cringing, as you stand up to leave. 

Then the inevitable happens. You make it all of four steps and your foot catches on a cart you had accidentally veered towards. You expected to hit the floor, but you didn’t.  Kix catches you before you hit, pulling you upright with his arms wrapped around you. 

“So what would have been this time? Malfunctioning hatch?” Kix teases. 

“I…” you were at a loss for words. 

“It’s cute when you blush,” he continues, still holding you in his arms. 

“I’m not blushing!” You insist even as your cheeks blaze. 

“Yes you are!” He says with a low chuckle. But his expression fell, “Will you tell me now what really happened? I don’t like to see you hurt,”

“I tripped into a bulkhead while I was carrying engine parts,” you answer quietly, your cheeks still on fire. 

With a warm smile he gently kisses  your forehead. “There, that wasn’t so bad. Was it?” He asks. “Will you let me walk with you to the mess and have dinner with you?”  

Tag list:@sleepycreativewriter @523rdrebel @cloneloverrrrr @trappedinlimbo15 @merkitty49 @cdblake1565 @littlemissmanga @skywlker-sluvtt @the-bad-batch-baroness @padawancat97 @dystopicjumpsuit @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite @sev-on-kamino @secondaryrealm @wings-and-beskar @captain-rexs-cyare@cw80831 @leotawrites @transactivecybermemory @sverdgeir @nahoney22 @trixie2023

#Sunshine's Ice Cream Truck #Sunshine Follower Milestone #Sunshine Follower Event #fan fiction #rare clones #rare clone fics #sunshine writes #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone wars #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #rare clone x reader #kix x reader #clone medic Kix x Reader

[kakashissimp]

Hi there, I have a request to make if that’s okay?

One where the reader gets injured badly and it’s going to leave a scar, so after Tsunade is finished healing her up the reader begins to avoid her crush and friend Kakashi, since she’s insecure about the new scar? Don’t mind me, just craving happy ended angst here

Thanks for the request! <3

Warning: Injuries, mentions of wounds and scars, insecurities, fluff

Scar | Kakashi x Reader | SFW

You winced against the burning sensation of Tsunade’s chakra as it manifested around your fresh wound, working to seal up the edges. Sweat coated your skin from the infection and shock that lingered throughout your entire body. 

Crying out from the pain, you tried to pull away from it, but two nurses held your arms against the hospital bed. Concentration knitted her brows together all the while she worked. 

“I know, y/n. Hang in there for me and it’ll all be over soon,” Tsunade murmured, hands tense while she hovered over your left side.

You had been healed plenty of times in the past, but not a wound so deep or large in size. One single mistake on your mission caused you that pain and suffering. One mistake almost cost you your whole life. 

If it weren’t for your team, you could’ve died. 

While the sweet kiss of death sounded much more appealing than the excruciating pain, you were thankful to be alive. You were able to live to see another day. To see him again.

Your heart lurched at the thought, and you grimaced from the pain. 

There was a small break in your healing as Tsunade paused to catch her breath, and to evaluate her work. She inspected the large cut that ran from the middle of your chest all the way up to your jaw. You were lucky enough it just missed your vitals. Just barely. 

Every breath was shallow, yet you pushed through it and looked at Tsunade, worry stitching your brows together. “How bad is it? Will it heal properly?” 

“It’s hard to say,” she murmured, the exact opposite of what you wanted to hear. 

Panic rose in your chest. “What does that mean?” 

Tsunade shook her head. “You’re going to live, y/n, but you’ll likely have a nasty scar to show for it.” 

“What?” Your voice was a broken, cracked thing. Tears stung your eyes, as if the pain alone wasn’t enough. 

“Don’t worry, dear. You’ll be fine.” 

All thoughts melted away from your mind at another wave of chakra concentrated straight into the wound, and your vision blurred from the pure shock of it all.

For better or for worse, you slipped out of consciousness with that one special person on your mind.

Weeks passed by the time you were fully healed after the incident, yet Kakashi scarcely heard a word from you. It was almost impossible for him to find you. You avoided him like the plague, much to his dismay. 

Kakashi only wanted to check up on you—to know how you were doing after the traumatic event that almost claimed your life. You weren’t just any other shinobi to him. You were a dear friend. Someone to lean on. 

Your cold shoulder only stung him more with each passing day. He was more confused than anything, often left wondering what he did to deserve only silence from you. 

While walking through the village one day, he spotted you outside of a food stall, wearing a high-neck jacket despite the warm day. He approached you, but upon noticing him, you only pulled the collar higher and turned away from him without another look. 

Kakashi didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know how to make things better. The distance made his heart ache with uncertainty and loss, for it nearly felt like you were taken away from him altogether. 

No matter his advances or attempts to get near you, they all failed. 

Little did Kakashi know, you were in love with him. Painfully and irrevocably so. He was your good friend second, and crush first. Yet, you dreaded the idea of him seeing your scar. 

It was wicked in size and color, plainly huge to the naked eye. You couldn’t stand the thought of him finding you ugly or monstrous because of it, and you wouldn’t let him see it—not while you had control over that. 

It hurt you to avoid him, yet your silence slowly killed him. 

When he eventually had enough of your avoidance, Kakashi took matters into his own hands. He couldn’t let another day pass without getting to see you. To make sure you were truly alright. 

After a long day of being restricted to paperwork only, you wandered back to your apartment, eager to relax on the couch and forget about it all. You wanted to be alone. 

After turning the key and pushing your way inside, you locked the door behind you again and huffed a big breath. You kicked your shoes off and dropped your things. 

The moment you turned around, however, a gasp lodged its way into your throat. You jumped at the sight of him, perched in your window, eyes locked on you. 

“Kakashi! What are you doing?” You exclaimed, feeling a rush of so many different emotions. 

Fortunately for you, you hadn’t taken your jacket off yet. The scar was still covered. 

A part of you was relieved to see him. To know he didn’t give up on you despite your apathy. But the other parts were all kinds of upset, angry, and sorrowful. It was too much to deal with, yet there he was. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Kakashi jumped down from the window smoothly, exposed eye never leaving yours. It was riddled with visible pain and confusion, to which your heart clenched. 

“I’m sorry to corner you like this, y/n, but I never got to see you since it happened. You’ve been avoiding me. Turning away from me. Why?” 

Kakashi’s voice dripped with vulnerability, and it only made your guilt resonate within your chest. 

“I never meant to hurt you, Kakashi,” you murmured, crossing your arms and averting your eyes to save yourself from the pain. 

“But you did anyway.” 

It felt like a knife to the heart, but you knew he was right. Kakashi had a right to be upset, but you had your reasons. Your body was maimed. Altered forever, and you didn’t know how to deal with it. 

“I know, I’m—” 

“I thought you died, y/n!” Kakashi blurted, focus completely trained on you with every step he took. “When I heard how bad it was, I thought you weren’t going to make it. But I was so glad when you pulled through. I couldn’t wait to see you, to see you up and moving with my own eyes. But you gave me the cold shoulder. Why?!” 

Tears welled in your eyes, still unable to look at him. You were keenly aware of how much closer he was. “Because I don’t look the same as I did before. I was afraid you would see and judge me, Kakashi.” 

His movements stopped then, quietly bewildered by your fears. “You thought I would judge you? When have I ever been anything but accepting of you?” 

“I know it’s fucking stupid of me, but it’s hideous.” 

Kakashi scoffed. “I doubt that, y/n. Nothing could change my opinion of you.” 

More tears gathered in your waterline, feeling like he wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t understanding the gravity of it for you. “It’s the biggest scar I’ve ever seen! Nobody will find this part of me appealing. Nobody!” 

Kakashi’s eye searched your face, as if looking for any angle to level with you. “It doesn’t matter to me. A scar isn’t enough for me to turn my back on you.” 

“But it matters to me!” You shouted back at him the moment you cracked, unable to hold back the raw, burning emotions. The tears spilled down your cheeks and your whole body tensed. “I’ll never be the same again!” 

Quick to respond to your breakdown, Kakashi’s gaze softened, and his hands came up to gently hold your arms in place. Steadying you against the wave of tears. 

“You’re not hearing me, y/n,” Kakashi began quietly, voice just above a whisper. “Nothing will stop me from feeling the way I do about you. No scar will ever change my mind of how incredible I think you are.” 

Shock filled your system immediately, not believing Kakashi’s words at first. You shook your head, only for Kakashi to cup your cheeks in his hands. His stare was genuine and full of admiration.

“Whether you feel the same or not, I still mean it. You are the one person I trust the most in this world, and I will never let you think you’re anything less than perfect. I care too much to withstand your cold shoulder, y/n. Please don’t shut me out.”

A shiver ran down your spine from his emotion-filled confession, aware of how your skin burned beneath his touch. He was so close and teeming with determination. With love. 

“I-I’m sorry, Kakashi,” you murmured to him, eyes wet and large with regret. “I wasn’t brave enough to face you. I didn’t know what you’d think of it.” 

“Then show me,” Kakashi said in return, releasing your face to bring a hand up to his headband. He pulled the fabric up just enough to expose the large scar across his eye. The red sharingan glared back at you. “I have one of my own. I know what it’s like to be altered forever. You can’t scare me away with something we share in common now.” 

Your heart immediately dropped at the realization. Of the implication that you thought all scars were ugly. 

You never thought his was, though. It was a part of him you admired. It was a symbol of his perseverance. Of his strength and skill. The scar was a part of him, and you loved every inch of him. 

“I never meant...I’m sorry, Kashi.” 

“Don’t be, I know what you meant,” Kakashi murmured, never showing an ounce of offence taken. 

With a shaky breath, you knew you needed to make it fair. You couldn’t hide it forever. You reached for the zipper of your jacket and went to undo it, but the hesitation got the better of you. 

“Here, let me,” Kakashi hummed before taking the zipper in his hands and slowly gliding it down the track. 

Humiliation washed over you in anticipation for what was to come, yet you stood painfully still and swallowed it back. Your eyes never left Kakashi’s face, even while he focused his own attention on your jacket. 

The moment the zipper disconnected with a small click, the material loosened from around your body. The collar dropped away just enough for Kakashi to see the faintest beginning of the scar that peeked just below your jaw. 

“Relax, y/n.” 

The softness of Kakashi’s voice slowly chipped away at your defences, and you released a shallow breath. His fingers carefully moved beneath the material of your jacket, and he slowly inched it away from your shoulders, as if he was afraid of setting you off. Afraid of upsetting you further. 

His movements were slow and deliberate, like he was barely there at all. His careful precision only made your heart ache more. The tears gathered once again. 

Kakashi’s hands rested on your shoulders and moved down inch by inch until his fingers toyed with the hem of your black long sleeve usually worn beneath your flak jacket. Your eyes closed at last, unable to look at him.

“May I?” 

His gentle voice lashed at the last of your walls and you crumbled. Nodding, you let him in at last. There was no turning back. 

Those precise fingers grasped the shirt and slid the material upward little by little. The silence that lingered between you was almost deafening with Kakashi’s undying respect. It burned within your chest. 

With your eyes still closed, the shirt was eventually pulled away from your arms and head, and tossed to the side. 

The silence seemed to amplify then. The damage was done. Kakashi knew what it looked like then. 

You half expected him to choke on his words and take back everything he said. To pull back from you and make his way back through the window to never speak with you again. To never even spare you a second glance. 

But the moment you felt the softest of touches against your chest, right in the valley of your breasts, you completely broke. 

Kakashi’s lips left their gentle mark where the scar began, and he placed his hands against your hips warmly. Slowly, he made his way up its crooked pattern through your skin, leaving those meaningful kisses in his wake. 

Each time his nose brushed against your skin while he glided upward, you shivered. The tears streamed down your face, shaken by his acceptance. By his mission to prove you wrong. 

When Kakashi reached the base of your neck, he whispered against your skin, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” 

His lips continued up the stretch of your neck, sure to let his touch linger each time. He wanted you to know exactly how he felt, no matter how he had to spell it out for you. 

“Scar and all, that will never change.” 

You fought against the sob that tried to rattle its way passed your mouth the moment he kissed the very end of your scar, just below your jaw. 

While you had been mortified at the very thought of showing Kakashi, you never felt more loved before that moment. It was crystal clear then that he meant every word of it. 

Kakashi accepted you for every scuff, mark, and imperfection. There was no need to hide any longer. 

A chill moved down your spine at the sensation of Kakashi’s gentle breath against your lips, a mere inch away. His hold on your waist tightened, which brought your body closer to his own. 

Instinctively, your eyes opened and his longing gaze was enough to make you melt. You never thought you would have a chance with him again. It was surreal, along with the way your heart felt lighter than air itself.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, y/n. I never should’ve waited to tell you that,” Kakashi hummed against your lips, bringing his nose close enough to brush against your own. “If you’ll let me, I’ll worship every inch of you until my last breath.” 

Not wanting to cry even more, you cut the space between your mouths and leaned into Kakashi’s strong chest. 

A satisfied sound left his throat at the feeling and his arms wrapped around your waist affectionately. Kakashi pulled you impossibly close, not willing to let you go so soon. 

As if pouring everything he truly felt for you into the kiss, Kakashi deepened the contact as selfishly as he could. He reveled in the feeling of your fingers crawling up the back of his neck and into his hair. 

Your heart pounded, so full of love and belonging. Like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, you soaked in the very thing you always wanted to try with your good friend and confidant. 

At last, he was yours, and you were his. 

“Thank you, Kakashi,” you whispered against his lips, fighting against the happy tears in your eyes. 

Kakashi smiled against you, leaving several kisses between his smooth words. 

“I’ll do anything for you. Never forget that, y/n.”

#kakashi fanfics #hatake kakashi #kakashi #kakashi x you #kakashi/reader #kakashi oneshot #kakashi fluff #kakashi sensei #kakashi x reader

[maintitle]

I watched DS9's It's Only A Paper Moon yesterday, and I want to talk about it because it wasn't until right now that I understood why it slapped me across the face so much, and why I think that episode is so important to me.

This may be triggering to people with disabilities, heart conditions, disabilities from COVID, or medical or military related trauma. Read ahead at your own risk.

I developed a heart condition at 18 from the H1N1 virus (which is why I tell all my friends to take preventive measures if they had COVID, because these kinds of new and unknown viruses can have long-lasting effects on you we don't know yet). While I had a lot of tests and missed a lot of school that year, the effects of that wouldn't be clear for years until at 24 I got a pacemaker/defibrillator put in in what we later found out was a life-saving surgery. The trauma of that event took a long time to catch up with me. While I'm still facing symptoms and limitations from that period of my life, the immediate danger has passed. But it took A LONG time for the fear of what happened to me, the PTSD of that event, to catch up with me. I've dealt with huge panic attacks and hyper-obsessive fears regarding my heart since around twenty-nine, fears I live with and fight through in therapy to this day.

As someone facing those issues, I hooked onto A Paper Moon this watch in a way I haven't before. The issue deals with the loss of Nog's leg in battle earlier in the season, a traumatic experience he had in the middle of a warzone only halfway through their defense. During his recovery, Julian begins to play recordings of I'll Be Seeing You, put together by Vic Fontaine, a semi-aware holodeck program that is really popular on DS9.

Nog returns from surgery at the beginning of the episode, and is walking with a cane. Multiple people on staff, including Julian himself, is concerned over the use of the cane because medically, he shouldn't have a need for it. He shouldn't even be in pain based off of what they know from the new leg and the nerves around it, but he's in pain and having trouble walking. A lot of the arguments in the early episode revolve around people talking behind Nog's back about how they can't understand why he has the cane or why he's in pain when there doesn't appear to be a medical reason for it.

The answer is actually incredibly simple: It's not the leg, it's the trauma from loosing the leg. Nog, who is still incredibly young in the episode, had somehow seen himself as invincible, a young cadet wanting to prove Ferengi can be incredible members of Starfleet, who had seen quite a bit of action and was cocksure, and in one moment he not only lost that bravado, but he also learned he was mortal in one horrifying singular moment.

Obviously, Nog is lucky enough to live in an era where it's possible to replace a lost limb, but that doesn't change the fact that for a horrifying unmentioned, maybe SEVERAL DAY period of time, he was left on a makeshift bed, listening to fighting outside, knowing that he could be attacked at any time, could die at any time from factors not even exterior to him. And now he just has to... go back to life after that horrifying dose of his own mortality.

The only thing that gets him by is that recording of I'll Be Seeing You by Vic Fontaine, because that's the only thing that he had to take him out of that horrifying situation while he laid on that makeshift gurney. The episode explores that idea by having him play it while trying to sleep, and eventually go to the holodeck and try to live in it with Vic after he was shamed for being in bed too long and for listening to said music for too long.

The funny thing is, Vic is the ONLY person, INCLUDING THE COUNSELOR ONBOARD DS9, who recognizes that his pain is valid. Vic, as a hologram, recognizes that his pain isn't crazy, it's as real as the injury he experienced, because Vic has a perspective that none of these hyper-worn-down Starfleet Officers or parental figures in his life has: His LIFE is a series of not-real instances of pain, of happiness, of dealing with other people he knows are holograms. Vic isn't like Moriarty in TNG, he's not like other semi-sentient Holodeck programs, he KNOWS he's a program but he also finds that life to be very real FOR HIM. The feelings of one of his bandmates are as real to him as the problems of Julian walking in to talk about one of the many women he simps for not feeling the same, because despite knowing they're not physically real, he CARES for them and takes their lives seriously.

Nog's feelings are real. His PAIN is real, even if a doctor can't understand why. Nog's in the middle of a long, extended panic attack where he's internalizing a near life-ending medical emergency and doesn't know how to DEAL with it. He loses himself in the program because it's the only place he can get past the trauma of the event, he's hostile to others who try and look at him with pity or as a hero because he doesn't want to be DEFINED by that pain. Vic knows this, and builds him up in other ways. Gives him a life to live, watches him slowly not need the cane and not even realize it, gives him tools and an environment to cope and generally is the only person that validates that trauma.

The episode is maybe one of the series best mental health episodes possible, and DS9 is generally REALLY good with these issues. As someone with medical trauma, I saw myself in Nog. I'm sure others who have experienced disabilities in the military see even more of themselves in him. We relate to it because we're constantly belittled or told our pain is in our heads, when the truth is we FEEL it. I feel it multiple times a month, when I lay down and go to bed and lay on my side just right that I can feel my heartbeat, and then I overanalyze it, and then that leads to a panic attack and me grabbing a pressure cuff or a fingertip pulse whatever it is to see if I'm okay, but by then I can't come down from the panic attack until it's done. I feel it when I'm helping someone move or if I'm on a casual walk and I feel my heartbeat spike, and my mind overreacts and wonders if this is normal exertion or a heart attack.

Not FEELS these things. It's real pain. And Vic doesn't invalidate it. It's as real as the injury itself, and it's not one that he'll ever truly conquer. But the episode gives him time, space and kindness to help him find coping mechanisms in order to continue with his life and dreams, and THAT'S Trek to me. A future where these things can be understood and worked through, without the constant shame that people with disabilities face when describing the trauma responses they suffer on a day-to-day basis.

In the end, Nog is heard. The main characters come to understand that what he felt is real. The episode gives him the time to work through complicated PTSD, and while he's not okay at the end, he's learning to live with it. And it's really fucking special to see this explored with a character we saw grow up into a man, on a show where the future is meant to be better than the present, written by writers in 1998 where they had no right to handle this as well as they did. This was an exceptionally special episode of television.

#Nog #Vic Fontaine #Holodeck #Star Trek #Star Trek: Deep Space 9 #Deep Space 9 #Star Trek: DS9 #Star Trek: Deep Space Nine #Deep Space Nine #tw: disability #tw: heart issues #tw: pacemaker/defibrillator #tw: COVID #tw: COVID-19 #tw: PTSD #tw: medical trauma #tw: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder #tw: military related medical trauma #i think that covers the tw tags #but if I need something else let me know!

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction Recs | Vol 35

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to the Spreadsheet Digest, my weekly(ish) fic rec post. This is everything I read in the last two weeks. Good mix of the boys this week, though I'm still on my trend of not reading that much.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Fic Recs Below!

A Shade That's New

Din series by FallenFern (AO3)

After Mando and Grogu part he goes back to bounty hunting. But its not enough. Desperate to feel again Mando accepts a more dangerous line of work. He joins your small crew on a new job, putting you in close proximity whether you like it or not. Wary of anyone, especially Mandalorians, you try to keep him at arm's length. After all, anyone and everyone could be an enemy and you were going to treat him like one.Yeah, thats lasts long…

OFC!Shade, described as smaller than Mando, curly or wavy hair, able bodied, can blush/flush, Alternating 2nd Person POV. Smut, making shit up, not canon, after grogu and AU, emotional pain, plot with porn, enemies to lovers, slow burn, trauma, sexual tension, action and romance, blood and injury, blood kink, the helmet stays on, but it also comes off, blindfold, light bondage, sexual assualt, threats of rape (not by Mando), praise kink, begging, semi public sex, blaster kink, cock warming, daddy mando, oral sex (f and m receiving), smut marathon, I’ll kill anyone that touches you trope, demanding mando, comfort sex, minor character death, betrayal, mando to the rescue, revenge, reunion sex, say my name trope, edge play, rough sex, throat grabbing but not exactly choking

Repent Your Sins

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Ever since the Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore, you’ve been apathetic about moving there. To top it all off, your mom got remarried. Your new stepdad, Din, suggests visiting the Living Waters to feel more connected to the creed. When you’re finally alone, pent up feelings come to the surface, leaving you to ask yourself— Are you really about to fuck your stepdad?

canon divergent, post season 3 finale, reader is able-bodied, stepcest, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), light angst, Din’s a little creepy in this lmao, no use of y/n

His Living Fleshlight

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You catch Din masturbating in the cockpit of the Razor Crest and end up becoming his personal fuck toy.

reader is able-bodied, long live the Razor Crest, no Grogu, established relationship, masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, Din can pick reader up, crying during sex, pet names (cyar’ika, good girl), no use of y/n

Ezra's Journal Entries

Ezra series by @littlemisspascal

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. — Ezra recovers after the events of the film with the aid of a journal and the love of his life.

angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics, angsty fluff, night terrors, PTSD, Ezra dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, overuse of space metaphors, grief/dealing with loss of a sibling, mild reference of past injury, Part 11 could be read as suicidal ideation so please skip/be warned of that segment due to possible triggers

Tick

Frankie one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Your husband hasn't come home after a night of drinking yet again. You wait up for him and contemplate the years and events leading up to this moment.

reader is able-bodied and has a child, though no mention of giving birth to it. I am choosing not to tag everything so as to avoid spoilers. There are heavy themes here: drug and alcohol abuse, implied smuts, implied PTSD and some of the things that go along with that.

midnight strikes, where is my prince

Frankie one shot by @undercoverpena

he had been your neighbour. a man you'd stare at through blinds when he’d been on the front lawn. a man you’re now staring at through splintered shards of your mirror—because he saved you.

ANGST 😂. there’s mentions of a break-in. frankie is there and he has a gun, so you know we’re okay. angst. inspired by a scene from scandal-if you know, you know

Relájate, hermosa

Javi P one shot by @beskarandblasters

On the night of your birthday, Javi has a special surprise for you.

reader is able-bodied, established relationship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, restraints, pet names (hermosa), Spanish dirty talk (translations included at the end), no use of y/n

amateur

Joel one shot by @ezrasbirdie

After a breakup, Joel invites you over to watch a football game and you arrive a little earlier than he expects. Or: Joel gets caught watching porn.

smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 24, Joel is 40), dad's best friend, a sprinkle of daddy kink, dry humping, male masturbation, Joel indulges in Internet pornography, reader wears a skirt, reader calls him Mr. Miller, use of baby girl, Joel is confused about the Internet, a smidgen of insecurity, soft Joel, bossy Joel, some very light teasing degradation, Joel likes bush

Run Rabbit

Joel/Reader/Tommy series by @justagalwhowrites

It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and he's not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Dom Joel, Threesome - MFM, Mildly Dubious Consent, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Stockholm Syndrome, Brat Tamer Joel, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Anal Sex

some good friend

Tim Rockford one shot by @covetyou

Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it. And it made him nervous.

pegging, anal fingering, praise kink, mild glove kink, very mild feminization, masturbation, Tim has body image issues and a bit of an identity crisis, kind of coming untouched, sex work, comfort

gonna make you sweat

Javi P one shot by @mypoisonedvine

he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life... so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.

dubcon smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, reader is under the influence and under duress), age gap (not specified but it's big lol but they are of course both adults), dad's best friend trope, pseudo incest (reader calls javi tio/uncle but they are not related), drug use, jealousy, unprotected sex, orgasm control, rough/aggressive sex, we're talking complete total and permanent gut rearrangement, crying during sex (from overstimulation not like, being sad), hair pulling, 'sir' kink (briefly), creampie, basically just a kinky filthy mess idk what else to say

you're mine, little dove

Joel one shot @mountainsandmayhem

You’ve always loved walking at night, but an unexpected visitor goes from the most terrifying to most erotic night of your life.

predator/prey dynamics, ropes, blindfolding, gagging, non consent, consensual non consent, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby girl etc.)

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

[pardis-dhyai]

sorry you've been sick, i hope you feel better soon! i do have a request for whenever you feel up to it, though! in honor of the lantern rite event and these 3 being in the same scene together, could i request chubby!reader asking for xiao, shenhe, and ganyu (separately) to help train them because they're insecure in their abilities and want to be able to fight too, but they end up getting injured badly in the process? idk why lantern rite just brought the need for hurt/comfort out of me lmao

thank you so much anon <3 unfortunately it's just. chronic. and i won't get into detail because i don't enjoy sharing much personal information but i've been struggling to get ACTUAL medical care for...a long time. so it's just kinda there for now. just have bad days and slightly better days! and i LOVE this request so much. you got it!

teaching a chubby partner to fight

characters featured: xiao, shenhe, ganyu

pronouns used: none--second person perspective.

warnings: some light descriptions of injury and combat. some slight allusions to insecurity about body image to fit with the request.

notes: written with a chubby reader in mind. does not quite work if you aren't chubby.

xiao has complicated feelings about your request. he respects that you want to defend yourself and wants you to feel more comfortable in your body, but because of how much he knows of the loss and pain combat brings he's hesitant to teach you. however, he's physically incapable of telling you no, so you end up sparring with wooden sticks as per his insistence as opposed to actual weapons. he really tries to be careful, but he strikes your leg just a little too hard and you go down like a rock. he drops the stick and lunges for you, catching you before you can hit the ground and hurt yourself worse. xiao, usually silent, sputters all kinds of questions about your well-being, not even realizing he's crying until you gently reach up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. he WILL teach you what you want to know, but...he needs some time to fret over your bruised shin first. and, maybe talk with him about the past a little as you recover to get some context.

shenhe literally just goes "sure" without having to think twice. fighting is as natural to her as breathing, and it's something she finds solace in. when she's upset, she trains. when she's happy, she trains. thus, you wanting to share this with her just makes sense in her head. she already respects you so much that she sort of assumes you'll be on equal footing with her from the start, so she ends up slicing your shoulder with her spear. she moves so fast you can barely register it, cold ice already formed in one of her hands as she easily makes a tourniquet to stop your bleeding. she apologizes evenly and calmly, affectionately patting your (uninjured) shoulder while she grabs you some water. she'll definitely be more careful next time, but she isn't rattled at all. in some ways it helps you feel calmer about the whole ordeal.

ganyu understands where you're coming from on a more personal level. (she canonically was chubby when she was younger, and I personally think the chubby ganyu headcanon is the best thing in the world.) she's happy to reassure you she loves and respects you as you are, but if you really want to learn to use a bow she's happy to help. what she fails to realize is that adeptal strength is immense, and her bowstring is not one you can properly pull back. the arrow slices your cheek when it awkwardly swings back, leaving her fretting over your cut and the angry red marks on your hands from trying to pull back that bowstring. note to ganyu--buy a human-rated bowstring for your partner first...

#xiao #shenhe #ganyu #genshin x chubby reader #genshin impact x chubby reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #shenhe x reader #ganyu x reader #house of daena

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

We Are TroubleD - "A Shocking Offence"

Written as a part of @whumperofworlds' WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Day 4 (my chosen prompts are bolded): Electrocution / Waterboarded / "Anything but that!"

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Event page | My event participation masterpost (coming soon) | “We Are TroubleD” Masterpost | First | Previous | Next

This is part 2 of a 3 part mini-story. Part 1 is here, and part 3 is here

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Content Warnings: Difficulty breathing, electric shock, exhaustion, fear, injuries (minor), swearing, temporary loss of mobility, worry

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            It was a tense and awkward climb, but T managed to wriggle through one of the basement windows and pull himself out into the backyard. The grass was prickly, wet, and chilly against his chest, but a little bit of discomfort was more than worth it for the promise of freedom.

            He crouched down, trying to stay as small and in control of his actions as he could, and slowly slid the windowpane closed behind him. He’d be damned if he let their captor know that was how he escaped.

            It felt seven kinds of wrong to be outside. Forbidden. Exhilarating. Frightening. The whole world spread before him, full liberation from this hell almost within his grasp. He could go back to his old life, back to his other friends, back to his broken little family… 

            All he had to do was find help for himself and D.

            Timid fingers brushed against the side of the house, steadying himself as he slunk around. T peered up, trying to find the wall with the fewest windows. If there was no way to be seen from inside, he could get further along before he was detected.

            Around the left side there was only one window- a tiny little thing, possibly for bathroom ventilation. The lights were off and the blinds were still drawn. Perfect.

            He launched off of the wall and bolted, wincing momentarily as his bare feet crunched into the gravel of the driveway, but choosing not to dwell on it. Before he knew it, he was back in the grass. A beat-up old truck sat a few feet away and he ducked behind it long enough to take stock of which direction he should run.

            A swear escaped his lips. There weren’t any houses nearby that he could see, just woods and land. Before him was a large, grassy field, but if he could make it to the tree bank on the other side of it then he’d have more coverage and could slow down to figure out his next move.

             There was a road to his left that had to lead somewhere… He could follow parallel to it a bit farther back so he wouldn’t be spotted immediately if their captor came driving after him. He might even be able to squat in the woods until the man gave up looking.

            Yup, the treeline was the way to go.

            Off he dashed, flying as fast as his legs would carry him. His cheeks flushed red as he panted, but he didn’t slow down for anything.

            Thoughts of D were heavy on his mind. How much time did they have before their captor woke up and found him? Would D be okay? Had he made any progress cutting through the cuff?

            Was there any possibility that T could actually find help in the first place? He didn’t even know where they were or if there were people this way.

            It was closer to morning than he thought. The horizon was just barely starting to brighten up. No sunrise yet, but it probably wouldn’t be more than a half hour before things started getting lighter. T had to act fast to make the most of the cover of darkness.

            When he reached the trees, he doubled over trying to catch his breath. He stumbled behind the thick old trunk of a bigger tree and leaned against it for support, breathing fast and hard.

            Maybe this would suck less if he had water. Maybe it would suck less if he had kept up with his exercise regimen. In high school he had been on the track team. Not necessarily good at track, but a participant, nonetheless. Now it felt like he had never run a day in his life. Guess sitting captive in a basement for a long period of time could do that to a person. 

            He peeked around the trunk, stealing the smallest glance back at the house. No lights or movement yet, thank god. He still had time.

            Unfortunately, though, there was no sign of D either.

            There was a pang in his heart. How the hell could he leave D behind? T’s head spun for a moment. He had to go back for him. With the growing daylight through the windows, he would be able to see better to find sharper scissors or a knife or something to cut the ankle cuff and bring him with him. They could go together. There was time…

            … No. No, there wasn’t. He had promised. D would be furious at him. Things could go wrong. They couldn’t afford that.

            T swore again and swung the side of his fist against the trunk.

            No. He had to go. He had to keep on.

            He pushed through the brush, taking care to avoid any plants that might be poison ivy. He wasn’t quite sure what poison ivy looked like exactly, but it was wise to avoid anything dangerous-looking or sharp regardless.

              Once he got to the end of the small forest, he cautiously poked out to see what he could spot in the distance.

            Trees. Some bushes. A grazing field. Cattle dotting said field. A few more bushes and trees. More cows. More tree—wait.

            He squinted, trying to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Sure enough, beyond the next bank of trees stretched a field. On the other side of the vast spans of land he swore he saw a house. His vision held on it for a moment and he swallowed.

            It was probably farther than it looked, and it would be a long, long dash through wide open ground where he could be spotted in an instant from the road. There were a few bushes scattered about and a couple trees... Not the best hiding spots, but maybe they could work in a pinch. That or -he thought amusingly- he could snuggle up and make good friends with a cow.

            His feet sank into the soft earth beneath him, and an idea crossed his mind. Maybe he could cover himself in mud. That way he could camouflage better if their captor drove by and he needed to throw himself to the ground to hide.

            He chewed his lip and thought about how long getting that kind of coverage would take. It hadn’t rained recently as far as he could tell. It wasn’t quite mud puddle consistency anywhere. Rubbing it on himself would take time.

            But dang it, if it upped his chances of evading recapture…

            It took longer than he wanted, but once he found wet enough ground T dug up clumpfuls of mud, rocks, grass, and leaves and smeared them over every part of his body that he could reach. By the time he finished decorating himself, he was covered head-to-toe in the stuff, and most likely could have made anyone think they had hallucinated the ground moving. That was his hope, at least.

            Another peek at the horizon showed that the sun was well on it’s way. He simply didn’t have much time in the dark left.

            T made his way through the second patch of trees. There were signs that he was getting close to someone else’s land. Literal signs. “PRIVATE PROPERTY” “NO TRESPASSING” “NO HUNTING”. The last one made him chuckle, despite the gravity of the situation. He doubted that their captor would heed that warning when it came to tracking him down.

            He couldn’t let that happen.

            T pressed on.

            There was no escaping the scratches and scrapes from the branches and limbs scattered around. Adrenaline was high, though, and he didn’t feel anything, especially with the aid of his thin layer of dirt armor. The only thing that mattered was getting to that house and getting help.

            A light flicked on in the window of the home, and the sight reinvigorated him. Someone was there. Someone was awake. Someone could help. Holy shit... Holy shit!!

            He took off again, dashing toward a clearing up ahead, but his excitement made him less observant. His toe stubbed against an unseen rock and he tripped, stifling a yelp of pain as he tumbled forward, coming to a stop in the leaf litter.

            It wound up being a good thing. In his haste, he hadn’t noticed the long length of fence that stretched out endlessly before him, blocking the path. He would have run right into it had he not been forcibly slowed down. T cringed as he pushed himself up, taking a look at the barrier.

            It wasnʻt barbed wire, which was what he’d expect for farmland.

            Strange.

            Someone like him was no fence expert. The class field trip out to a farm when he was in elementary school had been fun, but the information portion of the trip was not something he had paid close attention to, and definitely not something he retained in his young adulthood. The animals were cool, but the big machines used to harvest the crops had been even cooler to him. Little T had spent the entire talk staring at every single inch of the monstrously huge combine harvester.

            Maybe if he had been listening to how they kept the animals safe and contained, things would have gone a lot more smoothly for him. Instead, he had tuned out the talk and daydreamed about sitting in the captain’s chair of the machine. Tall, powerful, and ready to reap the splendors of the earth.

            Whatever. It didn’t matter what he had (not) listened to or thought about back then. What mattered now was right in front of him.

            But really? A fence without barbs or other deterrents? It seemed sturdy, like it could stand up to some damage. It would probably be able to keep cows in, even if they were running at it. But humans? The gaps were plenty wide to fit through. All he’d have to do was slip right between the plain bare wires or military crawl under if he was feeling up to the challenge.

            It couldn’t be that easy, though, could it? Surely there was a catch. There were too many signs posted around for the farm’s security to be that lax.

            Unless they were just bluffing. Meant to scare, but fully relying on the honor system for any would-be trespassers.

            T approached the fence, a bit apprehensively at first, but he eased up when he looked at it closer. No small razors on the thing. It didn’t look rusty, so probably no chance of getting tetanus if he happened to… he didn’t know… faceplant into it somehow? But he’d have to be pretty bad at maneuvering through such a large space for that to happen.

            He studied it for another second, but suddenly felt stupid for doing so. He was burning valuable time. The sky was already growing a light shade of lavender. It wouldn’t be long.

            A flock of birds suddenly burst forth from a nearby tree, making his heart nearly leap out of his chest at the unexpected noise. What followed was much scarier: A sound cut through the woods. It was distant and well behind him, but unmistakably loud and enraged.

            Their captor roared furiously into his front yard.

            Their plan had been discovered.

            Unconsciously, T had frozen in place, but the continued yelling startled him back to life. This was his only shot. There was no time left. The man was coming.

            Oh Fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!!! He was coming!!

            T had to run! He HAD to make it to the house!

            T surged forward, sticking his leg carefully through the middle of the fence without touching any part of it. He landed safely on the other side, though bristled immediately as his foot sank into something cold, slimy, and wet. He had stepped into a cow pie. Old, but still squishy between his toes. Ugh! Oh my god! Gross!

            The unpleasant surprise caused him to lose his footing as he shifted his weight, and he slipped in the dropping; The one thing his clumsy ass didn’t want to do.

            In a panic, T’s hands shot out to grab the fence to catch himself. It wasn’t barbed wire, so he wasn’t worried.

            It wasn’t barbed wire.

            It was worse.

            The second his hands grasped hold of the top line of the fence, his world exploded into a blinding flash of white light, and his body thrashed on its own in a violent, shaking jolt. An involuntary scream ripped from his throat and pierced the morning air as electricity coursed through him.

            What little sense he still had was instantly shattered the second his legs gave out and his inner thigh came in contact with the bottom line. At least it didn’t hit his sensitive parts, but my god, was it close. His heart fluttered, slammed, and quaked, angry, terrified, and completely out of his control. Everything tingled… there was a crackling noise in his head.

            He couldnʻt breathe… he couldnʻt breathe…!!

     ��      T blacked out, completely overwhelmed by the sensation surging through him.

            When he awoke, he was lying flat on his back on the side of the fence that he had come from, dazed, confused, and in pain. He voiced a strangled whimper. 

            What the fuck just happened?!

            The sun crested the horizon, bathing the grass around him in blood-orange light. He blinked slowly and tried to steady his breathing, not yet feeling its warmth, but hoping for relief soon.

            Lazily his gaze drifted over to the fence.

            … the fence…

            It clicked into place in his brain. That sensation… he had been shocked. It was an electric fence.

            That was overkill. For fuckʻs sake, this wasnʻt Jurassic Park. They were just housing cows, not a t-rex…

            His body hurt like hell, but he felt lucky to be alive. If something like that was rated to stop a bull, then who the hell was he to be able to walk away in one piece?

            Walking… Right. Fuck. He didnʻt have time to lay around all frazzled. He had to move. He had to hide before their captor set out to find him…

            T went to roll himself over… to sit up… anything… but shit… SHIT! His arms and legs werenʻt working. No. No, no, no… He needed them to recover from the zap and wake up. He had to get out of there. He had to go!

            He strained and willed his arms to move, gritting his teeth. The most he could manage was a twitch of his fingers. His eyes slipped shut to wait it out, and he prayed that heʻd regain control of his limbs soon.

            Almost as quickly as he had closed his eyes, they shot open again when he heard the slam of a truck door. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Who was that? The farmer? Please, Christ almighty, please let it be the farmer coming to check what had tripped his fence.

            A gruff, angry voice called out, headed for the clearing.

            “Is this where you’re at, boy?”

            T sucked in a horrified gasp.

            It wasn’t the farmer.

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Day 4!

Bad times for T... What an inopportune moment to lose control of your body and be forced to lay prone. What will he do now?!

This originally-one-part entry turned into two parts (yesterday's post and today's), and wouldn't you know it, there's still more to this little mini-story that I wrote, so you'll get part three tomorrow! I hope it's engaging and that you're enjoying it! <3

Thanks for reading!

#wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump [day 4] #whump writing #whump fics #electrocution #escape attempt #Deedoo original #Deedoo writing #Deedoo fics #D #T #captive #captivity whump #We Are TroubleD #We Are TroubleD fic #Multiple whumpees #D and T #shocked #electrocuted #loss of mobility #whumper and whumpee #whumper pursuing whumpee #whumper chasing whumpee #whump

[impostorsshow]

Another rant about my "YHS Grian gets time travel-kidnapped to participate in an MCC" daydream/au, with a focus/reflection on how permadeath worlds would affect skills, except it's not a rant it's a 1.2k - 1.8k oneshot

When Grian finds out the future version of himself got signed up to...whatever this is, he has enough to be surprised at - they're on a series of floating islands, and use a portal to travel between islands that are larger apart, something Grian's only ever seen when he traveled between England and Japan.

He saw that when [Jimmy? Timmy? Did he have to check his hearing after all this time of using firearms?] was injured after being turned from a 27 year old into a teen, he got disqualified since he wouldn't be healed by the time this whole championship started, Grian decided to not share the bullet wound at his hip [Timmy was more than eager to tell him where one of the "admins" had stored some bandages once he figured out where the clinic was].

And then they got their first round of training, courtesy of Scott wanting to make the team's more balanced to skill level when the event was closer - it was a simple game in his opinion, fill in 9 blocks with your teams color and kill your opponents before they get you [Grian wished he could say that he wasnt used to death matches being considered training.] A kid named Tommy, about 11 years old was [incredibly reasonably] distressed about murdering other kids and was disqualified, so Grian was glad he learned to keep his mouth shut.

He wasn't the best by any means, but he was more than good enough to avoid dying, his team having 3 people that were on wool duty with him and a girl named False being the only ones confident in their fighting ability. False got injured, and Grain thought she died if not for the fact she reappeared without any injuries after the round was over. Grian didn't find the time to ask and False didn't catch any of his questioning expressions, but his teammates kept getting injured and were praising him on not getting hurt [how would he have gotten this far in the Yakuza otherwise?? How did you get cut across the abdomen with an iron sword and survive? Why is he the only one freaking out ?] So Grian played it off and accepted the compliments as best he could.

The last round they didn't get the wool capture, and the other team was out for blood. Grian saw False get shot in the head by an arrow and somehow survived a 3 v 1, shooting two of the players with a shot in his shoulder and watching the last player run to place the wool, ending the game with 1 loss for his team.

He felt dizzy for a moment and closed his eyes, opening them back up to see he was teleported back onto the main island, a leaderboard infront of him. Grian felt his shoulder, confused that the blood that had stained his blue uniform [he really needed to ask for a comfier change of clothes at some point] was gone and his shoulder was just fine, even if he felt the phantom pain of the arrow, quickly fading.

The leaderboard placed him in the upper middle of players, which was worse than he expected. Everyone around him was talking to each other excitedly though, so maybe MCC was only a place where seasoned professionals played and he wasn't as numbed to death as he thought. The Yakuza in his town weren't really high quality, nothing in that town was anyway.

"Hey." Grian jumped, startled at the voice and turned to his right to see False [he made eye contact with her forehead more than her eyes, not quite able to understand how she was alive. No one could survive that, he knew that much.]. Awkward silence made itself known for a few moments, False clearing her voice and snapping Grian back to reality. "Good job. You only got hit once."

"....Yeah."

"I'm saying that it's impressive. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Oh. Uh, death matches are common where I live, you kind of just..." Grian looked away from False entirely, glancing over at people in the crowd he could have sworn were dead and another count of blood on his hands. "Have to know how to survive that, or you learn the hard way."

Grian heard False mumble some agreement and walk away, narrowing his eyes at the leaderboard. He needed to figure out which adult was trustworthy enough to ask about this without getting a target in his back, as soon as possible.

In the end, he decided to ask Timmy. He was still in the clinic so surely some adult would have shared something with him, and he didn't rat out Grian for having a bullet wound ["What's a bullet?" "...a piece of metal that's used in a gun." "What's a gun?" "No wonder your in the infirmary"].

"Do you know anything about people dying and coming back?" Grian stated out of the blue, the first 5 minutes of his visit being pure silence on Grian's part to make sure an admin wouldnt come by to check up on Timmy's wounds anytime soon.

"What? Whaddya mean, Gri?"

"I mean that people keep dying and coming back. Injuries in games disappear randomly. I've seen at least like, 8 people die in the past week multiple times and all of them seem to be fine. No one's questioning it at all and-"

"waitwaitwaitwait-ow-" Timmy started waving his hands to motion for Grian to stop talking, flinching when it stretched his injury and stopped to hold his stomach where the injury was, but still eyed Grian as if he was insane. It made Grian immediately regret asking. "Are you seriously- do you not know about respawning?"

"No, unless you mean it in terms of the Gamecrab."

"I don't know what that is but -oh my god, I never thought I had to explain this ever -respawning is what happens whenever you die. Most of the time the only thing that happens is your inventory gets wiped, and you might feel like however you died for a bit or whatever injury you had last."

Grian deadpanned, getting his thoughts across very clear and making Timmy throw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm serious! How is it you've never heard of respawning, did you live on a hardcore world or something?"

"define hardcore."

"....oh my god you cannot be-" Timmy took a breath,pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering to himself for a few seconds before talking louder at Grian. "-Hardcore is used to define permadeath worlds with added difficulty to them. If you die your done forever, and even a shot to the arm can be bad enough to kill you."

"..oh,-"

"but I KNOW your not from a permadeath world because that was made illegal, right?" Grian heard a tone in Timmy's voice that sounded like Sam when he was about to snap, and decided to not ever bring this up again, responding immediately and eyeing the door.

"yup, I cant even imagine what that would be like -when was that made illegal, out of curiosity?"

"1337? seriously what-?" Grian was up from his chair and out the door before Jimmy could finish his sentence.

—————————

My version of YHS Grian is much less prone to questioning things than actual YHS Grain, and that's because this daydream is A. Made by someone who never finished YHS and B. Because it emphasizes to me the skills you would need to learn to survive living with a delusional serial killer and being in the Yakuza in general, much less a town with adults that aren't doing anything and at some points actively putting students in danger with zero consequences except for maybe getting murdered by the students.

Alot of fanfiction I see that follow the YHS -> Hermitcraft Grian timeline make him the god of combat/PVP and the most traumatized skrunkly in the world. I'm not going to deny that I may be doing the second trope can you blame me it's good content but humans learn from making mistakes, and knowing you'll survive combat gives you a hell of a lot more confidence to be more aggressive and taking risks that pay off later. I imagine children in Minecraft are just kind of thrown outside and taught how to deal with a creeper by blowing up and crying to their mom about how much it hurts to die until they stop dying or are old enough to learn to move past the pain of dying, which would have it's own psychological consequences but like. Psychological consequences of a world without death is for another post this is about how said world would compare against a world of mortality and the fear of death being less equivalent to a spider and more equivalent to the fear of being forgotten.

Anyway what im getting at here is that I think when YHS Grain is written he needs to stop being written as a PVP god, he needs to instead be written as the god of survival. It's not that he knows how to most effectively use a weapon or he can find weak points in an enemy quicker or any of that, what makes him Grian Dreamslayer is that he has the skill of dodging and misdirection, of near misses that give him just enough of an upper hand that it doesn't matter if he doesn't know how to use a sword because he thinks that if he gets hit in his stomach or chest he's not coming back, and he knows to aim for the chest of his opponent. He's absolute shit at hiding, but he knows when to identify that you've found him and when to run.

Can you tell I have a hyperfixation anyway if you read my last post I have become aware that cannibalism doesnt actually happen the way I thought it did so just like. Ignore that bit that's been vanished and if you didn't read my last post uh. I don't watch MCC and I don't watch Falsesymmetry so like feel free to critique my characterization or give me ideas this is fully self indulgent so any advice is only going to help me make up more silly things while I'm daydreaming and I might make another post about this [i have more than enough content to make like 3 similarly sized posts of this i just don't have any knowledge of who is in MCC and how they act ive literally had to search up "MCC competitors" every time i post about this]

#talk talks #daydream ranch dip #original ranch dip #yhs #yhs grian #obligatory fuck samgladiator tag im a hermitcraft fan fellas its just free real estate #grian #i was actually flabberghasted when i put this in wordcounter.net and found out that my little rant at the end was 500 words #the exact count of this post is like. the first bit is 1286 or something and then the entire post is 1806 in full #im sure this is missing a few tags but im not used to posting from my computer and i couldnt copy and paste this whole thing into the word #count site from my phone for some reason it just copied over paragraphs and not the whole thing #no but im so serious on the falsesymmetry thing the only thing i know about her is really pretty fanart good at PVP and big autism hcs

[qqueenofhades]

How is the free speech thing balanced in the US with regard to the law? Does everything fall under this amendment? For instance, in France, antisemitism, denial of the Holocaust or racism are (normally) not counted as opinions but punishable by law. Not as crimes but the infraction level below (it's called délits but I don't know the English equivalent)

It's complicated. The First Amendment guarantees freedom of speech, press, and assembly-- i.e. you have the basic right to speak, write, and protest how you want without government censorship or punishment. If the right wing free-speech champions were genuinely concerned about it in any meaningful way, they would be defending the BLM and abortion-rights protestors, since this is something that actually is guaranteed in the Constitution, but uhhh, yeah, free speech for me and none for thee is their whole philosophy.

What the First Amendment does not do is give you the ability to act like a total dick in public all the time and never suffer consequences. The fact that it has been interpreted as such is another result of the skewed extreme-libertarian philosophy that is likewise popular in the US, where you yourself are the most important person and should be able to do whatever you want all the time. You have every right to yell fire in a crowded theater, but when you are arrested for causing a public panic and/or injuries or a stampede or whatever, the First Amendment is not some magical get-out-of-jail-free card where you can invoke it and then cry about being unfairly persecuted if people are harmed by your conscious decision to be a dick. So hate speech is not necessarily a protected category of speech, and it certainly does not exempt you from consequences enforced on you by other private citizens.

For example, take the recent Alex Jones trial. He is a bloated hatemongering piece of human garbage who, ever since the Sandy Hook school shooting in 2012, has been making up nonstop lies about the event, claiming it was staged and the victims were "crisis actors," it was a plot to take away Americans' guns, encouraging his equally insane followers to harass the grieving families who had just lost their young children, etc. Anyway, understandably, the families finally sued the living shit out of him for defamation and libel, because free speech does not, again, mean you can just make up nonstop bullshit and cause tangible public harm. It's not the government suing Alex Jones for his reprehensible lies, so his whining about how this, you guessed it, "violates his First Amendment rights!!" is an even bigger load of bullshit than usual. The private citizens whose life he deliberately made a living hell are fully entitled to seek recompense for that pain and suffering, and juries in several different states have agreed, awarding them combined damages of over one-billion-with-a-B dollars, while Jones has likewise tried all kinds of shady bullshit to hide his finances and avoid paying up. Because, as noted, he is absolute rancid garbage.

That's why the right wing was screaming bloody murder about the outcome, because if -- gasp -- people can successfully hold them liable for all the awful things they say and do on a daily basis, they might experience, oh no, A Consequence. And since the loss of money and prestige is pretty much the only punishment these shitbirds understand, they don't want it to catch on, and so they holler about First Amendment Infringement as if that means absolutely anything. Because oh boy, there is truly nothing they love more than playing the martyr while continuing to attack everyone else for daring to act as if they have, in fact, the exact same civil rights as them.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[lacontroller1991]

WHUMPTOBER 2023

ITS SPOOKY SEASON BITCHES AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS???? WHUMPTOBER

Main Master List

SOOOOO I am giving it a go again this year. That being said, I don't have all the days planned out and I might not post on all of the days, but the ones I do have planned out I do plan on posting. So HUGE SHOUTOUT to @ailesswhumptober for supplying the prompts I will be using this year.

They are as follows:

1) Drugged/Sick/Poisoned (Sub: Bloody Knuckles) - Johnny Lawrence

You got in a fight for your life and the only thing you could think about is going to the comfort of your sensei, unknowing of your wounds.

2) Overworked/Insomnia/Exhaustion - Ernest Lawrence

Lawrence has been working very long and very hard hours to produce the first nuclear bomb. Long enough hours to forget a very important celebration.

3) Sensory Deprivation/Overstimulation/Isolation - Ed Baldwin

Being on the moon by yourself is tricky as is, dealing with the loss of you however? It’s downright insufferable.

4) Hiding an Injury/Betrayal/Lying - N/A

5) Hostage/Kidnapping/Held at Gunpoint - Roman Sionis

With you now being known as Roman Sionis’s girlfriend, you becomes an easy target.

6) Conditioning/Mind Control/Forced to Hurt Someone - N/A

7) Flatline/Restrained/CPR - Rick Flag

Rick and you have always had prank competitions, but this year, you take it a little too far.

8) Panic Attacks/Dissociation/Seizure - Gordo Stevens

You wait at the restaurant for 30 minutes and are very irritated that Gordo doesn’t show up. Deciding to give him a piece of your mind, you go to his house only to find that Gordo is in the middle of a panic attack.

9) Scar Reveal/Interrogation/Presumed Dead - N/A

10) Branding/Scarring/Collar - N/A

11) Fainting/Paralyzed/Adrenaline - Ernest Lawrence

Feeling the buzz of finally completing the first nuclear bomb, Lawrence comes home to you and fucks you.

12) Self Harm/Sacrifice/Character Death - Gordo Stevens

After a night of heavy drinking, Gordo reflects on his life and how pathetic he has become. Wanting to hurt himself but not go through with it, he calls you, who he knows will help out.

13) Earthquake/Flood/Crushed - N/A

14) Bleeding through the bandage/Field Medicine/No Anesthesia - N/A

15) Experimentation/Muzzle/Transformation - Jonathan Crane

You decide to be a test subject for his new toxin.

16) Amputation/Chronic Pain/Hospital - N/A

17) Hypothermia/Heat Stroke/"You Look a Little Pale" - J. Robert Oppenheimer

In which the detonation of the atomic bomb is successful but the one person who should be celebrating isn’t looking too hot.

18) Fever/Vomiting/Warm Soup - Gordo Stevens

Gordo survived Jamestown but at what cost?

19) Taken for Granted/Left Behind/”Why wasn’t I enough?” - Stephen Holder

Holder is smitten by a fellow detective and so he does all of your paperwork at your request. Linden confronts Holder about this behavior but Holder deflects it. When he goes to ask you out, you reject, leaving a heartbroken Holder.

20) Dehumanization/Stockholm Syndrome/Master and Servant - N/A

21) Blood Loss/Shock/Near Death Experience - Gordo Stevens

Follows the events of season 2 where instead of Ed’s plane catching on fire, Gordo’s plane catches on fire and he’s forced to eject, causing him to land in the middle of the ocean. You are nearly devastated, Gordo has never felt more alive.

22) Whipping/Punishment/Stress position - N/A

23) Begging/”Take me Instead”/Forced to Watch - N/A

24) Failed Escape/Hunted Down/Too exhausted to keep running - N/A

25) Nightmares/Flashback/”Why didn’t you save me?” - Joe Pickett

In which Joe has recurrent nightmares about his childhood and you try to help him.

26) Magical Exhaustion/Curse/Came Back Wrong - N/A

27) Forgotten/Locked Away/Immortal - N/A

28) Whumpee Hair Pulling/Oxygen Deprivation/Sweating - N/A

29) “The easy or the hard way?”/Bargaining/Force To Choose - Obi Wan Kenobi

Maul is holding both you and the Duchess Satine Hostage and forces Kenobi to choose one, the woman he “loves” or the woman he loved.

30) Possession/Mind Games/Coma - Rick Flag

The Enchantress control’s Rick’s mind and knowing Rick’s connection with you, his best friend, the Enchantress decides to get rid of you.

31) PTSD/Headaches/Crying - N/A

If you guys have any thoughts about the ones I have unnamed, please send me an Ask or DM if you would like to see someone in that slot!!!!

#whumptober 2023 #whump prompt #whumptober #rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #rick flag #tss #Joel kinnaman #Stephen holder x reader #Stephen holder #the killing #for all mankind #ed Baldwin x reader #ed baldwin x you #gordo stevens x reader #gordo stevens x you #gordon stevens x reader #gordon stevens x you #gordo stevens #gordon stevens #Michael dorman #Joe Pickett x reader #Joe pickett x you #Joe pickett #ed baldwin #lacontroller1991 #Jonathan crane #Jonathan Crane x reader

[onceuponastory]

i only wanna talk to you - steve harrington x reader

The only thing I'm really sure of I'm unsure of almost everything But I know, I know, I only wanna talk to you - i only wanna talk to you by the maine

Plot: A month after Vecna has been defeated, and the world has been saved once more, Steve and Y/N find comfort in each other...and just maybe, they’ll finally tell each other the truth about what’s in their letters from Max. This is part two of my fic ‘Words Left Unsaid’, so please read that first here if you haven’t already! Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death but no further character death than what’s canon in the show, because if any of my faves die I’m never watching this show again, and all the trauma, nightmares, injuries and scars Y/N, Steve and all the others have after the events of this season, and the show in general. As always, please let me know if I’ve missed any triggers. Notes: A few people requested a part two to Words Left Unsaid with a love confession, so here we go! Sorry it took me a while. Dividers made by my bestie @thesundrop. Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.​

One Month After Vecna’s Defeat

It took them longer than expected, but finally, the Hawkins Gang defeated Vecna with no further loss of life. And after a while, things in Hawkins went back to normal. Or at least, as close to ‘normal’ as possible. Actually, Hawkins hasn’t been normal for a while. But there aren’t any monsters trying to kill everyone anymore, so at least that’s something positive. Y/N sits on her family’s porch seat, watching as the world goes by. The world she helped save. Nervously, she fiddles with the hem of her cardigan as she looks around her. Even trying to relax is impossible now, because after surviving something like this, Y/N’s terrified it’ll happen again, so she wants to make sure she’s prepared for every possible outcome. After all, the Mind Flayer came back, so who’s to say Vecna won’t?

Even so though, Y/N just wants to be able to stop thinking about demons and monsters trying to kill her friends and family. At this rate, just one day free of worrying about The Upside Down and everything involved with it would be perfect. As she scans her surroundings once more, Y/N catches sight of the plate of cookies left on the table by her mom. She brought her them in the hopes they make her feel better. Y/N sighs. By this point, her parents have noticed something’s going on with her. Then again though, since Y/N spends most of her nights being wide awake and too afraid to sleep, or awoken by nightmares when she does manage to fall asleep, it’s pretty obvious something is wrong with her. They’ve tried their best to offer her their love and support as best they can, and she does appreciate it...but there’s no way she can tell them everything she’s seen and what she’s so afraid of. They’ll think she’s crazy.

Sighing, Y/N wraps her cardigan closer around herself, hoping that it shields her from the chilly Hawkins wind…or that it’ll somehow act like a safety blanket, protecting her from all the death and destruction she’s witnessed up until this point, and that still haunts her every waking moment. If only things were that easy, and stuff like that actually worked.

Thankfully, before Y/N can think much more about the things she’s seen, the sound of a car pulling up her drive fills the air. A car that she knows all too well, and the very sight of it makes her feel better already. Steve steps out, his trademark quiff the same as ever. Y/N’s heart starts to flutter as he walks up her drive, and Max’s words from her letter fill her mind again.

“So please Y/N, for me. Tell Steve that you love him.” Y/N frowns. She said that she didn’t want to tell him the truth whilst everything with Vecna was going on…so now that it’s over, is it finally time to admit it? Now, though, Y/N’s afraid that Steve won’t feel the same about her. 

Soon, Steve’s standing in front of her. At the sight of him, Y/N sighs. He might look the same as usual, but Y/N can tell that the past few weeks have been haunting him. Steve looks exhausted, and his usual cheerful demeanour is gone. The deep red scar from Vecna’s vines is still visible across his neck, despite Steve’s clear attempt to hide it with his sweater. Of course, Y/N knows that after being through the same thing, she doesn’t look that good either, and she definitely has scars of her own, but seeing Steve so different, so…empty, is quite unsettling. What they’ve been through with Vecna really has changed them all.

“Hey Steve.” 

“Hey. I just thought I’d visit everyone and see how they’re holding up. Saved you for last.” He chuckles, and Y/N even manages a small smile. Although everything about them both has changed, at his heart, Steve’s still the same protector he always was. He’s still the same Steve Harrington she fell in love with. “So, are you alright?” Steve asks. Y/N can tell that Steve knows it’s a dumb question. After going through what they did, it would be hard for anyone to be okay. But it’s a better question than “Hey, how are you feeling after a monster that preys on people’s guilt and insecurities almost killed us all?” And besides, Steve is trying, and she appreciates his concern and his need to check up on her.

“I don’t know.” She admits. “My scars haven’t faded yet. I’m still having nightmares, and every time I visit my grandma and her clock chimes, I jump about five feet in the air. I think my mom thinks I need an exorcism by this point.” Y/N and Steve laugh at her admission. It feels weird to be laughing at something like this, but Y/N is grateful for it. At least they both have something to laugh and smile about. “Enough about me. How are you doing, Steve?”

“I’m….” Steve trails off, and Y/N notices his smile faltering. It’s only then that she remembers that this isn’t Steve’s first experience with stuff like this. Despite how hard he tried to put on a brave face and act like he still has remnants of his King Steve persona, it’s clear that everything Steve has gone through still haunts him. “Okay? I think?” Steve answers. Y/N’s face softens.

“Steve, it’s okay not to be okay. I’m here if you need to talk to someone.” 

“I know. I’m just not ready yet.” He sighs. Y/N nods in understanding. “I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing. See you around, Y/N.” Steve waves, turning back towards his car. Quickly, she stands up, unwilling to let Steve leave just yet. Not only because she’s still head over heels in love with him, but because she doesn’t want to be alone right now. And she knows that deep down, Steve doesn’t want to be alone either. And thankfully, since she and Steve have both been through the same thing, it means they can actually talk about how they feel, and the other will understand them.

“Steve, wait!” She calls, and he turns around, frowning. “Would you like to sit with me for a while? We don’t have to talk or anything, it’s just nice to have company. My mom made cookies earlier, and you can have some if you want.” She offers. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice, thanks.” He smiles, walking back up the stairs to her porch and sitting beside her. “And I do love your mom’s cookies, so I’m mostly staying for those.” He jokes.

“Gee, thanks.” Y/N rolls her eyes jokingly, but still can’t stop herself from giggling. In all honesty, since everything happened, Y/N hasn’t been able to laugh as much as she used to, if ever. Now though, hearing the sound of her laughter filling the air makes her feel happy, and that things will be okay again. And it’s all thanks to Steve. 

Now if only she could tell him the truth about how she feels.

Y/N and Steve sit together for a while, watching as the residents of Hawkins get on with their lives. Although she is glad to see the world get back to semi-normality, Y/N’s jealous of those who have no idea of The Upside Down, or of anything else she and her friends have dealt with. Sometimes, Y/N wishes she could be like them: ignorant to what’s going on. To not have to go to bed every night wondering if she’ll wake up in the morning, or that she’ll be able to go anywhere alone without the threat of being attacked by a monster. There’s no way she can ever live a normal life after this. Her eyes look back over at Steve. 

Then again, if she hadn’t been dragged into this, then she would’ve never met Steve. And without Steve, she wouldn’t have so many good memories of them both, and they wouldn’t be sitting here on her porch together. Even though the pair have mostly been sitting in silence, it’s a comfortable silence, and they both feel safe in each other’s presence. Because maybe they don’t have to say anything to each other. All that matters is that they know the other understands what they’re going through, and that’s more than enough.

“Y/N?” Steve murmurs.

“Hmm?” 

“I um. I have something I need to tell you.” Immediately, that makes her heart start racing again. Vecna might be gone, but what if he’s back? Or what if there are more monsters? More unexplained things? Seeing the fear on her face, Steve’s eyes widen. “No! Shit, no, not like that. It’s not bad.” That makes her frown, because knowing Steve, it could be anything from Family Video still doesn’t have her favourite movie back in stock, or that he’s going away to college and leaving Hawkins and her for good. Hopefully, it’s not the last one. Because even after everything she’s been through, losing Steve Harrington in her life is something that Y/N knows she won’t ever be able to handle.

“Okay, what is it?” Steve’s cheeks flush a little, and he runs his hand through his hair.

“Well.” He takes a deep breath. However, before he can continue his explanation, the sound of a door opening interrupts them.

“Alright kids, just letting you know dinner is almost ready.” Y/N’s mom announces with a smile. Y/N sighs. Trust her mom to ruin the moment. “Do you want to call your parents and ask if you can stay for dinner, Steve?” 

“Well….” Steve trails off, and Y/N raises a brow. “My parents aren’t home right now. They’re on a trip.” Y/N’s heart breaks at that comment. Steve’s been through so much pain and trauma recently, including almost fucking dying at the hands of the demobats, and he has to deal with it alone because his parents care more about a trip than his wellbeing. Sure, Y/N can’t tell her parents about all the horrors she’s seen, but at least they’re there if she needs them, even if it’s just for a chat. Meanwhile, Steve’s been left in that big house to deal with this all on his own. He takes care of everyone else, but there’s nobody there to look out for him. “It’s okay though! I was just gonna order some pizza and chill.” Steve insists. Despite his insistence, Y/N swears she sees a look of sadness cross his face, one that breaks Y/N’s heart all over again. She stares into his brown eyes, hoping that Steve knows just how loved he is, and how she’ll take care of him. Immediately, Y/N’s mom’s smile drops. 

“Oh no, honey, absolutely not. I’m not letting you go home alone without some food in your stomach. You’re staying. It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” She announces, disappearing back inside and closing the door before Steve can say anything. His cheeks flush pink again.

“Is it alright for me to stay? I don’t want to intrude on your dinner.” In response, Y/N gives him a look.

“Steve. Don’t be silly, you could never intrude. And besides, my mom loves you. You’re like her honorary son. If she could, she’d have you over all the time.” Of course, Y/N would love to have Steve over all the time too, but she decides not to tell him that just yet. 

If only she could know what he wanted to tell her.

After dinner, which Y/N spent most of trying to figure out what Steve wants to tell her, and how to admit her feelings for him, she and Steve are back on the porch. A blanket covers their legs, protecting them both from the chilly Hawkins evening air. “God, your mom is a fucking amazing cook. I couldn’t eat anything more.” Steve moans happily, and Y/N chuckles.

“Knowing her, she’s probably packing up leftovers for you to take home with you.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no!” Smiling, Y/N looks up at the sky. The sun is almost set, and it bathes the sky in pinks and oranges. Y/N sighs happily. With everything going on, she almost forgot how beautiful Hawkins nights can be. She glances back over at Steve, who’s also staring at the sky, a look of wonder on his face. He’s bathed in the sky’s glow, and Y/N feels her breath hitching in her throat. He looks gorgeous. A night like this is especially more beautiful when you’re sharing it with someone you love. Suddenly, something brushes her hand, and Y/N jumps slightly…until she realises that it’s Steve’s hand. “Oh shit, sorry.” Steve murmurs, hiding his face from her. Before Y/N can say anything, Steve removes his hand, and she sighs. She liked the sensation of his hand touching hers, his fingers gently tracing along her skin. It gave her shivers, but the good kind this time.

“It’s okay Steve.” She smiles, but he doesn’t put his hand back. 

“So please Y/N, for me. Tell Steve that you love him.” Max’s words echo in her mind once more, and Y/N takes a deep breath. Maybe it is time to tell him the truth, even though she’s still terrified about it. But first, she has ask him something.

“Steve? What was it you wanted to tell me?” His eyes widen a little.

“Oh, right. Remember that night when we read Max’s letters?” She nods. “Well, I wasn’t entirely honest about what was in mine. And now, I think it’s time I tell you the truth.” Steve takes a breath. “I like you Y/N.” Somehow, her heart almost stops and also starts pounding all at the same time. Steve keeps talking, and Y/N’s not even sure if she takes the words in, too shocked by his admission to even formulate any words yet. “I tried to hide my feelings from everyone, but Max found out and told me to tell you. That’s what was in my letter.” He chuckles. “I didn’t say anything because I was too worried you wouldn’t feel the same and that you’d be in danger, especially with Vecna on the loose. Now it’s all over though, and because you’ve always been so kind and supportive to me, I realised I didn’t want to go another day without telling you the truth. I know you might not feel the same, but I just had to tell you.” He whispers his next words: “I’m in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Steve smiles, clearly thankful for finally getting that weight off of his chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N blinks in surprise. She tries desperately to put together a response in her head, yet comes up blank each time. It feels like her brain is screaming at her. Noticing her silence, Steve sighs sadly. “Look, it’s late. I better go. Tell your mom I said thanks for the food.” As Steve is about to get up and leave, Y/N reaches forward, grabbing his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

“No! Wait!” Her words stop Steve in his tracks. “I have something to tell you, too. Max wrote the same in my letter.” Steve frowns, and Y/N explains. “She told me to tell you the truth about how I feel, too. I’m in love with you Steve. I have been for the past year.” A huge grin takes over Steve’s face.

“You are? Oh, thank god.” He gasps. “Can I…kiss you?” Y/N giggles, and nods. Gently, Steve runs his finger down Y/N’s jawline, and he cups her jaw. Slowly, he leans in close, softly pressing his lips to hers. A soft moan escapes Y/N’s lips and she deepens the kiss as she wraps her arms around his waist. Once the kissing stops, Steve keeps holding her close. Y/N swears she could stay in Steve’s embrace forever. But life must go on, and unfortunately, it means Steve has to go home. 

“You know, you could stay over. I’m sure my mom would say yes if you asked.” 

“Nah, I have an early start tomorrow. Dustin and the others need a ride somewhere. And besides, I think if I stay over, I’d be too busy kissing you to get any sleep.” He admits, and the pair laugh. “I’ll come see you right after though, and then….” He cuts himself off with another kiss, which makes her sigh happily. “I’m going to take you out. And we can do whatever you want. Dinner, a movie, maybe both!”

“Mmm, that sounds good.” Y/N mumbles. “The thing is, I do want to do all of that and more with you…but I kinda just want you to keep kissing me.” She admits, and Steve smirks softly.

“Oh, you do? You see, that’s funny, cause I kinda want to keep kissing you too.” He replies, before kissing her again.

“What was that you were saying about an early start?” She asks when they pull apart again, and as the sky continues to darken.

“Eh, the kids can wait for a little bit I’m sure they’d understand. Especially Max. And besides, I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever to be able to kiss you, and now that I can, I’m not going to stop yet.” He grins, returning his lips to hers once more.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things oneshot #i have no idea how they'll defeat vecna so that's why i didn't say why lmao

[psyduckappears]

Memory loss for Stoncy?

read it on ao3

this was so fun!! also very long sorry heh

Between the three of them, Steve always thought he’dbe the first to end up with any form of memory loss. With all of the head injuries he’s taken in the past years, it only would have made sense.

Count on Jonathan Byers to defy any and all expectations.

It’s not that Jonathan has forgotten everything. He knows who he is, knows Nancy and his family, knows Will’s friends, knows Robin, knows Steve himself. He knows about the Upside Down, remembers Will disappearing and returning. There are just certain things that seem to have slipped his mind.

One of them is that Steve is no longer an asshole trying to ruin his life, that they’ve become friends over the past few years.

Another is that, for almost four months now, him, Steve, and Nancy have been together. That they’ve saved each other, held each other, kicked softly at each other under Steve’s kitchen table, told each other I love you.

When Jonathan wakes up that day in the hospital, Nancy asleep in one chair and Steve next to her, flicking through the book she brought with his tongue between his teeth, he frowns, shuffles uncomfortably in his sheets, and asks, “Harrington?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, heart jumping at the knowledge that Jonathan is okay. The doctors told them he was okay, of course, but it’s hard to believe something like that when a body is pale and slow-breathing and wrapped in bleach-white gauze.

The use of his last name doesn’t trip him up; they still use them sometimes, jokingly, usually to tease or to make light of a situation. Last week comes to mind, when Steve woke up sweating from a nightmare, and Jonathan was right up with him, calming him until he let go for long enough to have a drink of water. Tired Jonathan is oddly fussy, worry written all over his face, and to tell him it’s alright, Steve had bumped their shoulders with a grin and said, Jesus, Byers, maybe you should forget about photography and think about nursing school, instead.

When Steve’s eyes meet Jonathan’s, though, there’s none of that glint in his expression, none of the soft happiness Steve sometimes catches on him when he watches Jonathan wake up and recognize him. That oh, right. You’re here. The one that always makes him giddy and stupid and that makes Nancy grin at them both and call them saps when she sees it.

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asks, and it’s nothing short of hostile. It leaves Steve somewhere between speechless and breathless.

For a minute, they stare at each other. Jonathan makes no sign of being happy to see him – rather, he looks angry. A little scared. Most of all, confused.

“I – I should go get the doctor, or something.”

It’s some form of amnesia, something that got knocked out of place when Jonathan got that hit to the head that landed him here in the first place. Steve isn’t the only detail that got lost in it, they quickly realize, several memories from the past two-ish years having blurred or disappeared. He knows Robin, but only from school, doesn’t remember her from the mall or from her friendship with Steve. He doesn’t remember living in California but can recall isolated events and details from the time there, like Joyce’s job or a time he took Will and El to some fancy art show.

They don’t tell Jonathan about Nancy, Steve, and himself, at least not yet. Nancy holds his hand through it all, and Steve clings to it like a lifeline, pushing right past the bitterness some part of him feels because Jonathan remembers her, remembers being with her. Remembers all their firsts and the way he feels about her, the way she feels about him.

Even Joyce and Hopper look at him sympathetically when they come in, Joyce just off work and Hopper having picked her up, even though they never officially told anyone except for Robin.

“It’ll be okay,” Nancy tells him out in the cold, dark parking lot, rubbing her hands up and down his shoulders as he smokes his third cigarette in fifteen minutes. She took the pack from him when he lit that last one, gently pried it from his hands and stuck it into her coat pocket. “You heard the doctor. It’ll all come back to him eventually.”

“Probably,” Steve mutters. He drops the half-finished cigarette down on the grey asphalt and extinguishes it under the sole of his foot. “In most cases. And what if he never remembers?”

“He will,” Nancy says. She’s so self-assured, so confident, like anything else is out of the question. Like her determination alone is enough to make her words be true. “He will, Steve. But even if he didn’t, this is still Jonathan. He still loves you just as much as you love him.”

Steve isn’t so sure. He remembers that look on Jonathan’s face when he woke up and saw him there, that look that was nothing like those looks he’s grown so painfully used to. Still, he nods. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, in case the world hears him and decides to follow through on its threats.

He calls Robin from the hospital phone, tells her what’s going on, somehow manages not to start crying right there in the foyer. She tells him, essentially, a mixture of what Nancy told him and what the doctor said, and it’s still hard to believe, but the more people say it to him, the more he allows himself to cling to the hope of it all.

He keeps her on the phone for way too long, still doing anything for an excuse to avoid going back in. But the reception lady begins to glare at him, and Robin has to get ready for her shift at work, so he eventually hangs up and braves the looming, cold elevator.

The room is crowded, probably beyond what the hospital would usually allow. They’re regulars, though, and at this point most of the staff have first hand knowledge of how hard they are to get rid of. When Steve comes in, quietly slipping through the door, only El notices him for a little while. The others – Will, Joyce, Hopper, Nancy – are sitting around the bed, some in chairs and some on the foot of the mattress, Will rattling off story after story to see what Jonathan remembers and what he doesn’t. One of them must have left without Steve realizing because they have one of Jonathan’s photo albums with them, looking through the pictures page by page.

El waves at him, and he smiles but stays by the door, wanting to stay unnoticed for a few more minutes. It works about as well as to be expected.

“Come over here, kid, you can take my chair,” Hopper says the moment he notices him, and everyone’s eyes snap toward him. Jonathan has that look again, and Steve has to look away.

“That’s alright, Hop,” he says. He has a hand in his neck, scratching like he knows he shouldn’t because the skin there always gets really irritated during the cold months. “I, uhm. I just wanted to stop by before I left. Nance, is it okay if you ride home with the Chief, or I could pick you up later, or …?”

“Steve.” She frowns, sadly, like beckoning him over with just her eyes.

“It’s alright, really, I just – I got work early tomorrow, so …” He trails off because he knows that Nancy knows that he doesn’t have work tomorrow at all, that he already called in sick the moment they arrived at the hospital and Jonathan was off with the doctors. He’s pretty sure El knows he’s lying, too, and Will has figured out how to read him a long time ago. Joyce and Hopper – well, Joyce is a mom, and Hopper is a cop.

He's really only fooling Jonathan, who doesn’t want him here anyways.

Nancy calls him later that night when she gets home, and he promises he’s fine, no, she doesn’t need to come over, he just needs a little time by himself. To wallow, he doesn’t say. She tells him she loves him and makes him promise that they’ll go back tomorrow, and Steve agrees even though his stomach hurts at the thought of it.

The next morning, hours before he’s meant to pick up Nancy to take them both back to the hospital, the phone rings. He assumes it’s Nancy, maybe Robin, but when he picks up, it’s Jonathan.

“I – hi, Jon,” Steve manages, perplexed with a hand in his bed-hair and half his toast dangling from his lip.

“I got your number from the directory,” Jonathan says. He doesn’t seem to realize how easily he just stabbed him through the heart again, just through this one sentence.

“Oh.”

“I remembered the second half, midway through. Like I knew it the whole time, and I just forgot that I knew. Why do I know your phone number?”

“Why did you, uh … why did you want my phone number?”

There’s a pause, like Jonathan has to think about the answer. Steve can picture the little frown on his face, the one he’ll sometimes kiss away just to get him to laugh.

“I wanted to call you,” Jonathan eventually settles for. It sounds like it just occurred to him, and like the fact itself confuses him, and God. They need to tell him. But will he ever believe them?

(Will he want to believe them?)

“Well, I’m glad you called.”

When he pulls up outside the Wheeler house, Nancy is waiting for him with an overly large backpack sitting on the ground next to her. Instead of putting it in the back of the car, she places it carefully by her feet as she sits, and only then does she lean over to kiss Steve hello.

“How are you?” she asks, in that weighty tone that he knows better than say fine to.

“Better,” he offers instead, and it isn’t a lie. Jonathan called, which is worth a lot. He kind of remembered Steve’s phone number. He stayed on for a few minutes, letting Steve chat away a little bit, and thanked him for coming to visit, yesterday, even though it was clear he didn’t get why Steve had done it.

Nancy smiles at him, pressing another kiss to his shoulder as he starts the car down the road.

“I got some stuff, had Will bring it by earlier,” she says. “Some more pictures, his Walkman and the tape you made him a few weeks back, some more clothes.”

“You think it’ll help?”

“Anything can trigger the memories to come back,” Nancy shrugs, echoing what the doctor told them the previous day. “And we still think it’s better if he remembers organically, right?”

“Right.”

She seems to hear him hesitate. He knows she’s right. Or thinks so, at least. It’s not like he knows anything about any of this. That doesn’t mean he has to love holding back like this, pretending that keeping his distance from Jonathan doesn’t feel like days stranded without water. Pretending that it doesn't hurt, how easily forgotten all these things that mean the world to him seem to be.

(He knows that isn’t fair. He does. Still, he joined them late, and sometimes he still feels it, that fear that comes with it. Maybe Jonathan’s subconscious just decided they didn’t really need a third wheel too keep themselves steady anymore. And he knows that isn’t fair because he knows it was never about needing him, always about wanting him.)

Nancy seems to hear some of all this in that one word he utters because she grabs his hand over the console and doesn’t let go.

“If it really doesn’t work, we’ll tell him. I promise. He still knows you, somewhere in there.”

Steve squeezes her hand and keeps it until he parks outside the hospital.

Some of the memories come back more quickly than the others. Pictures from California help, and he remembers driving across the country in a pizza van, stopping in Utah, burying a body in the desert. Next is Robin, her showing up more and more to things with Steve.

While they go through the pictures together, Steve and Nancy sit on opposite sides of the bed, Jonathan in the middle with the album in his lap, and he keeps having to remind himself not to lean into his space too much. Once in a while, though, Steve will show up in pictures, more and more the further they get into it, and Jonathan will frown gently, trying to remember when he took them.

“I’m gonna get coffee,”  Nancy eventually says, already rising from her chair. Steve panics a little, trying to offer that he go instead, but Nancy waves him off. “No, I got it. You want anything?”

Both Steve and Jonathan decline, and then they’re alone, only the album left between them to serve as a buffer.

“When was this?” he asks, finger brushing over the edge of one particular photograph. It’s from a night just a week or so after they all got together. Steve and Nancy had shown up at the Byers’ before Jonathan had made it back from work, and Joyce had asked them to wait in his room because she needed to make a particularly exhausting call to her insurance. Head in his lap, Nancy had eventually fallen asleep with his hand tangled in her hair, and that is how Jonathan found them. On his bed, Steve immediately shushing him with a grin when he came in the door. Jonathan grinned back, incredibly fond, and carefully picked up his camera from where he’d left it on his desk to snap a picture.

“Few months ago,” Steve says, trying to swallow all the meaning.

Jonathan looks at him, then, a strange expression on his face like he’s really trying to figure him out. “You look so happy.”

There’s nothing he can say to that, so Steve just nods, doing his best not to look at him. He fails, as always.

“It’s nice,” Jonathan says, slowly. Then, like he’s beginning to understand something, “I think that’s why I took it. The picture, I mean.”

“Hmm,” Steve manages, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth a little nervously. “Yeah. That sounds like something you might do.”

The thing is, Nancy and him never decided how long they’d wait for Jonathan to remember before they’d tell him the truth, and the longer it goes on, the more Steve himself starts to put it off. At first, he was just desperate for Jonathan to get his memory back, for everything to go back to normal. But Jonathan gets released that afternoon, goes back home, still doesn’t remember. Telling him feels scary, scarier maybe than when he first told him how he felt. Rejection now would be a hundred times worse than it would’ve been back then.

“Don’t you think it’d help?” Robin asks him while they’re stacking new arrivals the next day. “I mean, it’s a pretty big thing to be missing. If you tell him, maybe the other stuff will come back too.”

“Maybe,” Steve mutters. He’s cutting into the last of the boxes, eyes on the knife, but he can feel Robin looking at him, anyways.

“And I mean, I get that you’re nervous, and … hurt.” She hesitates not because she isn’t sure but because Steve isn’t always good about hearing these things about himself. “God knows, Jonathan will feel awful once he does remember.”

“It’s not his fault.”

Robin snorts. “Like you’ve never apologized for something you couldn’t help. Anyway, I really think he’d want to know, and I’m sure it couldn’t hurt, you know? …”

She dives into one of her rambles, then, and usually, he’s good about listening. Her ability to fill a silence has always been something he’s appreciated about her, as someone who can’t stand the quiet but rarely knows the right words to say.

Now, he’s distracted. Unloading the box, he has stumbled only over a small number of movies that actually sound familiar; he’s never been a movie person, even though Jonathan has set out to change that months ago. One, though –

“Clue!” he gasps, cutting into Robin’s monologue to earn himself a confused look. He holds up the tape with a grin, what feels like his first in forever, but it doesn’t seem to clarify much for her. “Clue, Robin! I kissed him for the first time when we went to see this!”

“That’s – an odd movie to do that to,” she comments.

“Fuck off, it was adorable,” he waves her off, delighted. “It was almost Christmas when it came out, and Nancy set it up for us. Said she couldn’t come because she had to help out her mom with something so the two of us would be alone.”

“Your girlfriend and wing-woman.”

“It was so ridiculous, I honestly didn’t really get it, but Jonathan thought it was hilarious. I’d never seen him laugh like that.”

At this, Robin softens from her mildly mocking look into something fond, the same look she wears when she teases him for being such a big, stupid romantic. She takes the movie from him, flips it over to take a closer look.

“That’s actually really sweet, dingus.”

He grins like I know, and snatches the tape back. “I’m checking this out.”

Jonathan is visibly confused when Steve turns up at his house after work, but he lets him in, and he doesn’t look unhappy about it.

“Mom and Will are both out,” he says, leading him into the living room. “And, uh, Nancy was here earlier, but she had to go a little bit ago. Had to go help her mom with something.”

Steve smiles and nods and accepts a can of soda until Jonathan finally stops fussing and sits on the couch with him, a few feet between them. Nothing can discourage him now, though. Steve has a plan, and, for the first time since Jonathan first woke up, feels like this is all going to work out.

“I brought a movie,” he says, handing over the tape. “Thought it might jog some memories. You remember this?”

“Vaguely,” Jonathan admits.

“We saw it in theatres when it came out. You really liked it.” Jonathan nods, like he remembers that, too. That he liked it. “Wanna give it a try?”

Even if this doesn’t work, Steve finds himself thinking a little while into the movie, this is worth it. He isn’t really paying any more attention to the movie than he did the first time they watched it, but Jonathan is just as delighted the second time around. He’s a little more inhibited at first than he usually would be, but eventually, he seems to forget Steve is even there, relaxing into the couch and letting his laughs escape freely. Steve commits every second of it to memory and vows never to hit his head again if it means never forgetting this day.

At some point, Jonathan gets up for another soda, and sits back down closer.

The next time something makes him laugh, he looks over at Steve for his reaction, and Steve has no idea what happened that was so funny, but he’s grinning back at him for other reasons. Jonathan’s eyes catch on Steve’s smile before he looks back at the screen.

The first half of the movie passes without much incident, and before he knows it, they’re closing in on that part, the one when Steve caught his eye back then, leaned in, and ...

With every new second, Steve’s chest seems to grow tighter with nerves. He recognizes the scene when it begins even though he doesn't think he could have said which scene it was up until that moment. Next to him, Jonathan tenses.

“I—” He looks over at Steve, again with that frown, asking a question that Steve has been waiting for. He smiles, encouragingly, and keeps waiting. The frown deepens, then dissolves, leaving Jonathan wide-eyed and with understanding slowly blossoming on his face. “Oh God,” he mutters. “Oh Jesus, shit. Steve ...”

“Do you ...?” The hope is growing in him, warm, all-encompassing relief.

“I am so sorry,” Jonathan says, terror in his eyes. “I—I can't believe—God, I—”

Steve takes his hand, slow and careful not to startle him, and squeezes it tight. He feels choked, feels tears burning behind his eyes, but finally, they are happy tears. God, but he's so fucking happy.

“It's okay,” he says even though his heart is sore from the past few days of hurting. “It's okay, Jon, we just didn't—we didn't want to overwhelm you, we didn't know how you'd react, so... but you're okay now. We're okay.”

Jonathan stares at him for a few disbelieving seconds, like he can't believe he ever forgot them, Steve-and-Jonathan. Everything they've gone through to get here. When the moment breaks, Jonathan launches forward to wrap Steve in a bone-crushing hug, another unspoken apology that Steve has no qualms about accepting. They still fit perfectly together, Jonathan's nose in the crook of Steve's neck, and even their awkward sideways position on the couch can't take away from it.

They stay like that for a while, and Steve only reluctantly retreats to press a kiss to his forehead and take in the sight of him. Jonathan smiles back at him, that tiny, wonderful smile of his, and leans forward again to kiss Steve slowly on the lips. If either of them were still watching the movie, they would realize that they're catching almost the exact same moment that they had their first kiss to.

When they part again, both are still smiling like surviving the end of the world.

“We need to call Nancy," Steve says. “She’ll want every detail.”

#stoncy #stonathan #jonathan x steve x nancy #angst with a happy ending #stranger things fic #prompt fill

[whgmasterofceremonies]

WHG 21 Day 1

The first day of the 21st round of the Writeblr Hunger Games begins! Our 12 contestants hoping to prove themselves and achieve great destinies are set on pedestals around a flat span of astroturf. In the center is a large cornucopia full of things they could possibly need as they fight for the title of Ultimate Chosen One over the next few days.

A minute counts down for them to take in their surroundings. A suspiciously picturesque forest lies in one direction, elegant plains to another, and brooding mountains to the north. The choices are endless, but in the end, only one fate will remain for each hopeful hero. Only one can be crowned victor. Which one will it be?

The first cannon blasts, and we begin to find out.

The excitement begins! Rod and Belle get a little too into the spirit of things, but we also see a whole lot of teamwork out of our little group! On the other hand, we have about half of our crew going in empty-handed, but hey, at least nobody dies--er, gets disqualified--right off the bat.

The high energy of the initial gathering fades as the tributes run in opposite directions, each finding their own fun. Natural-looking floors give way to mechanical rooms, trees twist like turrets at their roots, and alabaster tricks and traps interrupt the landscape.

Cassian, Viper, and Rod completely ignore all that really cool setup, but Rantha Cathartes and Safirel Beynleyra have a little more spunk! I fear Safirel may have inadvertently caused Chess to have a rough first day, and Layla and Liz Bethany have discovered one of the more combative traps, but the rest did a great job sticking together!

(Oh my gosh Daisy Belle is straight-up a tree person and I set her on fire I am so sorry honey)

It's been a healthy first day as everyone hangs on like champs for those first twelve hours! No cannons mark the day's losses, because we're all winners here, haha. Oh, but for how long? How courageous and determined will you stay when the sun goes down and the nightmares come out to play?

Night is all about reflections and facing the things that haunt you. In Viper and Liz's case, those things are just other people. (Layla, seriously? Insult to injury?) Actually, Chess catches a break that Drest would be jealous of, and while everyone was able to overcome their demons tonight, I'd say Cassian came out of this evening as the biggest winner. Rantha Cathartes...at least you got some sleep.

With many tributes shaken yet victorious and others hungry but unharmed, it's still anyone's game. Until tomorrow, my friends...May the odds be ever in your favor.

Chess (she/her), @concealeddarkness13

Adrestia “Drest” (she/her), @concealeddarkness13

Cassian (he/him), @concealeddarkness13

Rantha Cathartes (he/him), @maple-writes

Viper (she/her), @maple-writes

Safirel Beynleyra (he/him), @pen-of-roses

Liz Bethany (she/her), @waltzshouldbewriting

Lucatet (he/him), @ratracechronicler

Daisy Belle (she/her), @ratracechronicler

Glidon (he/they), @forthesanityofstorytellers

Layla (she/they), @forthesanityofstorytellers

Rod (he/him), @forthesanityofstorytellers

Text transcription of events:

The Bloodbath

As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.

Daisy Belle does not look where she is looking and falls into a lake but is fine.

Cassian, Lucatet and Chess spontaneously work together to grab a heavy crate and drag it away, then split the loot.

Glidon, Rantha Cathartes and Liz Bethany spontaneously work together to grab a heavy crate and drag it away, then split the loot.

Rod acquires weapons with suspicious enthusiasm.

Drest runs away from the Cornucopia.

Viper runs away from the Cornucopia.

Layla covers Safirel Beynleyra, who navigates as the two head for higher ground.

Day 1

Rantha Cathartes has to clear an obstacle course to acquire food.

Cassian manages to sleep through most of the day.

Layla and Liz Bethany are dropped into a pit and forced to brawl. Layla wins and is allowed to leave while Liz Bethany stays for the rest of the day.

Bugs sting Chess, causing her to vividly relive her worst pains.

Safirel Beynleyra encounters a statue that poses riddles. He answers incorrectly and is rewarded with a swarm of bees.

Viper manages to sleep through most of the day.

Rod manages to sleep through most of the day.

Daisy Belle, Lucatet, Glidon, and Drest are drawn to a beautiful meadow. It bursts into flames and they work together to get each other out.

Disqualified Tributes

No cannon shots can be heard in the distance.

Night 1

Rantha Cathartes climbs into a tree and sleeps fitfully.

Thanks to holograms, Lucatet's worst nightmares bleed into the real world, but Lucatet overcomes them.

Important figures from Drest's life appear in her dreams to discourage her.

Important figures from Chess's life appear in her dreams to encourage her.

Rod sabotages Viper's supplies.

Monstrous beasts from Cassian's life attack, but he pacifies them and even wins one's loyalty.

A shadow version of Glidon shows up and fights him, but Glidon wins.

A shadow version of Safirel Beynleyra shows up and fights him, but Safirel Beynleyra wins.

Layla sabotages Liz Bethany's supplies.

Thanks to holograms, Daisy Belle's worst nightmares bleed into the real world, but Daisy Belle overcomes them.

#Round 21 #Day 1 #writeblr hunger games