frantic attempt

That video of the guy with his kids interrupting his interview but instead

General Organa : *discussing war and important issues to council via space Skype*

Toddler Ben : * dances in, wielding a toy saber* R2 rolls in behind him

Han : frantically bursts in, attempting to wrangle his unruly toddler and oblivious droid

“Why do you love me?”

“Because I have no choice.” He said with a sigh

Her wry smile turned to a frown as she frantically attempted to let go of his hand.

He calmly pat her in the head before continuing…

“Like how the rain helplessly falls to kiss the earth. How the waves can’t resist coming back to hug the shore. I have no choice, it is my very nature to love you.

My mind filled with holes so it drowns oh so easily in the depths of your eyes. My heart molded like a flute so it always sings your name. My soul hollowed out so it would always seek you as if you’re the only thing in this world that can fill it. I have no choice when every inch of my being is drawn to your perfections.”

He glanced at her birth mark and smiled, “and to your imperfections.”

“Because love” he held her chin and slowly leaned forward “the first time my lips pressed on yours I decided there will never be a better choice”.

—  kfroy 
I Don’t Laugh

Prinxiety - [Prince (Fanciful Side) x Anxiety]

Summary: Anxiety claims he never laughs. [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]

I love feedback! Critique is greatly appreciated!

CO AUTHOR: BUDDY AKA @stargazingbear!!! THANKS SO MUCH BUDDY YOU’RE THE BEST AND A SUPER TALENTED WRITER!!!

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Can You Hear Me?

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1,868

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, mention of stitches, fluff

Prompt: Sam and the reader are taken by a wendigo. Things look scary, then scarier before they finally start looking up. 

A/N: Special thanks to @impala-dreamer for betaing. There are two prompts used in this fic and thanks to @lipstickandwhiskey for providing the prompts: “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me” & “”Do you still have your blindfold on?” His voice came from where he was dangling next to you. “Yes.” “Promise me you won’t take it off.” Both will be bolded.

Originally posted by admiringjensen

“Sam!” The voice was muffled, blocked by rows and rows of rock. “Sammy!” It was unmistakably Dean. Dean! Where was Dean? Where was Sam? Where were you?

“Dean,” you bellowed. Your voice was weak and hoarse, barely reaching the person beside you.

“Y/N?” You breathed a sigh of relief at the sound. Sam’s voice; right next to you.

“Sam!” you cried, struggling to move your arms. You pulled at the ropes, grunting when you couldn’t pull yourself free.

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Damian Wayne Headcanons: Sorceress S/O

Request: Hey hun, love your blog. I was wondering if I could get headcannons for Damian with an s/o who has supernatural powers (sort of like the enchantress but she has control over it) if not that’s totally okay. Thank you!

Notes: DUDDDDEE I LOVE THIS PROMPT. But, to summarize, the reader uses her magic to read minds, lift objects, fly, and most importantly… talk to the dead. Also, Tumblr wouldn’t let me bold things or put italics on this post??? IDK???

Masterlist | Inbox

Taglist: @followeroonieclassic


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whatstheproblembaby  asked:

Imagine Snart quietly getting the word out to all the metas that the day of Barry's wedding Is Not To Be A Day Of Crime so he doesn't have to worry about Flashing away mid-ceremony and ruining his cover. Barry: "Is that his gift? Do we have to write him a thank-you note for that?"

Bonus round: Snart’s attempts to stop other criminals from being criminals inevitably results in an accidental heist, followed by frantic attempts to undo it as sirens go off and Snart, Fixing It, is just like “frickin things I DO for this kid” and shows up to the wedding ceremony forty-five minutes late with his parka still smoking.

Hey, Neighbor

Genre: Fluff (to the max)

Wordcount: 3.5k 

Prompt: Fluff scenario where you and wonwoo live in adjacent apartments and the power goes out and you scream and he goes to comfort you??

A/N: I hope you feel i did your prompt justice! this was super fun to write and i probably got weird looks from the baristas at starbucks as i smiled lovingly into my computer lol. Enjoy!!

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jigglejaggle  asked:

Prompt: so remember episode 2 season 1 where pidge shocks lance with her bayard and he fell over? Well i was thinking what if he didn't just pop back up and continue training. What if that like triggered him to start having a seizure, everyone starts panicking, crying etc... (some klance in there too)maybe some lance accidentally spewing his insecurities after since people are usually confused coming out of a seizure. You can add some more angsty stuff.(like maybe puking too) Langst is great man

This, my friend is amazing! <3 

“Awe you got a cute little bayard~”  Lance leaned slightly forward to get a closer look at Pidges bayard. 

Pidge swiftly shocked Lance with her bayard, resulting in him falling on the ground. “Yeah it is pretty cute.” A smirk growing on their face as everyone laughed. 

It only took a few seconds before those laughs turned into panicking screams. Lance was still on the floor shaking, his muscles tense, eye slightly opened.

Everyone stood in shock for a few moments before Keith bolted towards Lance, falling down to his knees and grabbed his shoulders. 

“Lance! Lance! Can you hear me?” Keith frantically spoke and he attempted to stop Lance from whatever he was doing. 

By then the entire team had rushed over and was kneeling beside Lance. 

“I think he’s having a seizure.” Shiro spoke and started to push Keith’s hands away from Lance. “Try not to hold him down, this will pass.” 

Kieth nodded quickly and shifted to Lances head so he was laying on his lap, and Shiro shifted his body so he was on his side. A puddle of drool quickly forming.

Keith attempted to remember how to help someone during a seizure. One of his foster homes had a daughter with epilepsy so he had seen seizures before, but could only remembered that touching helped sometimes. He tentatively started to run his fingers through Lance’s hair.

Pidge tried not to but they started crying, Hunk wrapped his arms around them as he watched Lance spasm. 

After, what felt like the longest minuet of anyone life, Lance finally stopped convulsing. His eyes closed, then opened slowly, not evening focusing at anything in particular. 

Everyone surrounded his, asking a million questions a second. Lance couldn’t focus on any of them, he could barely feel the fingers that were moving through his hair. He felt a pit in his stomach form and thank heaven that he was rolled to his side and released all of the contents that his stomach had. He attempted to murmur an apology but was cut off by his stomach lurching again. 

Shiro was rubbing his back talking about anything, but his words fell on closed ears since Lance only heard ringing. 

After a few minuets Lance regained his bearings and quickly found the first two words he needed to say “I’m sorry.” 

Silence filled the room as everyone process what he said. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Hunk asked. 

“If anyone needs to apologize its me.” Pidge wiped their face and attempted to calm themselves. “I don’t even know why I did that? I didn’t think that it could, god I’m so stupid.” 

Hunk hugged them tighter and Shiro looked at them with his dad™ expression letting them know that they would have a talk later. 

Lance sluggishly shook his head, “No, I always bring people down, I always mess up. Now I ruined the floor.” Lance was still shaking slightly. 

“Where is this coming from?” Kieth asked hesitantly.

Lance slowly turned his head towards Kieth, he took a moment until he realized who it was.  Lance took a shaky breath an closed his eyes “Back at the Garrison I was always compared to you. You were always better. I could never please anyone.” 

Lance started to sit up feeling his head start to clear, he looked around at everyone. “That’s why I don’t know why I was chosen to even be a part of Voltron. I’ve never been able to do anything right or be at the top of anything. Just ask my parents.”

“Stop!” Kieth screamed, his fist shaking. 

Lance looked at his and narrowed his eyes “You didn’t even remember me.” 

Kieth started at him, and looked at Shiro for support but Shiro adverted his eyes knowing that this wasn’t his battle. 

Lance started to stand and Hunk rushed forward to help him. Pidge started o apologize once more but lance silenced them 

“Lets just forget that all of this happened and go get the lions.” Lance reached down and picked up his bayard and shook the rest of confusion out of his head. Hopefully they will forget everything I said. 

-

After the mission nobody brought up what he said, and Lance was grateful. Nobody would question him on that matter, and he would simply remain under Kieth's shadow, just like back at the Garrsion. Just like home. 

I am very sorry that this took me so long to post, I’ve been swamped with work. 

I hope you like it!!! 

Let me know if anything is wrong.

Thank you once again!! 

Send me more Langst prompts!

Naturally, the fiery hot takes came rolling in almost immediately, as music writers attempted to reframe the former boy-bander in this new solo context: The Guardian threw some neutral shade at Styles’s plethora of influences, while Rolling Stone crowned him a “true rock and roll prince” and the New Statesman argued that he’s been a rock star all along.

These attempts to label Styles as something go hand in hand with a need to reject the “former boy-bander” label. Referring to him as a “rock star” is somewhat condescending, implying what he’s pursuing is performative rather than artistic. It also extends the false notion that to be considered as an artist, rather than a performer, one must be divorced from “pop” and married to what’s (incorrectly) perceived as a more legitimate genre: rock.

But perhaps Styles wasn’t trying to be anything with this album. Perceiving the record as his frantic attempt to shed his “pop” image disregards what Harry Styles is: a musical homage to what made him Harry Styles, a flamboyant, honest tribute to influences — from Elton John to the Rolling Stones — famous for their own flamboyancy and honesty.

Ironically, that sense of liberation from labels evokes another sort of label, one that may seem comical at first, but makes a strange sort of sense in the context of Styles’s album: Harry Styles is kind of punk.

“Rum & Coconuts” - h.s. Part 2

Part 1

—–

—–

You could see Charlie’s large sun hat before you saw her face once you landed in the airport. Though Harry had attempted to roll both yours and his suitcase in a chivalrous way, you had given him a look as if to say, “Really?” before lugging your own behind you as Harry led you and Savie through the airport.

“Charlie!” you called, waving your arm frantically as you attempted to catch her attention. She turned, her long, luxurious and silky hair swishing around her as a large smile overcame her face and she waved back, jogging to meet up with you. 

“Y/N!” she cried and nearly sprinted into your arms. “Oh it’s been so long! When Harry called I nearly thought he was joking saying you’d be visiting! It’s so good to see you!”

You and Savie had known Charlie since university. She’d been the Armenian girl down the hall whose grandmother always sent her nice treats. You’d gone with her on her first trip to her home country when her parents had asked if she wanted to spend the summer there. Her answer was yes, and that she wanted to bring friends. 

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anonymous asked:

Idk if you still take requests but can you do a kbtbb group piece where Mc gets kidnapped and the guys work together to find her? Love your work btw

Title: 99 Reasons Why I’ll Never Be Good Enough For You

Summary: He should’ve answered the phone when he had the chance.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Everyone/MC, mostly Eisuke-centric

a/n: Here it is, anon! I’m sorry this took so long. I normally don’t take any requests, but I liked yours! Also, this is mostly Eisuke-centric, so I hope that’s okay with you lol


              The auctions were once again in full swing. All the items Baba put up were the star of the show, and none of the patrons could get enough of the prized antiques on stage. Every time the zeroes piled up, Eisuke’s smirk grew wider.

              Good, Eisuke thought. More profit for us.

              His phone buzzed all of a sudden, but he paid it no mind. The auctions were more important than some offhanded phone call. He didn’t even bother taking his phone out of his pocket when he pressed the sleep button to make it stop ringing.

              Whoever was calling him must have been pretty insistent because the phone wouldn’t stop ringing even after Eisuke ignored it the first time.

              Annoying bastard. Didn’t this person get the message already?

              Irritated, he turned his phone off. At least he wouldn’t be disturbed anymore.

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potterpoints  asked:

"In a world where you share the pain of your soulmate, Supergirl's other half has it pretty rough" something along those lines? I dunno I'm a slut for Soulmate AUs

She comes to the conclusion that she doesn’t have a soulmate when she’s eight years old.

The other children at her foster home are so busy rubbing elbows they haven’t knocked, nursing bruises they don’t have on their skin, wincing at toothaches that aren’t their own, that they don’t notice Lena’s inability to relate to them—don’t notice as she draws herself further and further away from discussions about ‘how do you think my soulmate broke their arm?’ They don’t notice and Lena doesn’t care because this is good, this is better. If having a soulmate meant tolerating their pain as your own…well, she doesn’t think she deserves more pain in her life, she’s quite good as is.

(She’s never felt her soulmate’s pain—she’s never experienced a phantom stubbed toe, a ghostly pain in her head, the whip-like crack of a broken bone and the flare of pain that immediately follows. She’s never had to feel her soulmate’s skinned knees or bumped heads or even silly paper cuts and she knows it’s not because her soulmate is unnaturally careful—she knows because pain is a normal part of life—but because her soulmate doesn’t exist at all.)

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A Special Night (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request from: Anonymous
Prompt: “When you asked me out, this is not what I had in mind”
Warnings: Swearing.

Tonight was the night, Jason Todd- Mr. Red Hood himself- was going to take you out. That was the plan at least- agreed about three weeks ago. He had said it was going to be a night to remember, and in the midst of your excitement and uneasiness, you found yourself pacing around your home.

We agreed to 7:30, right? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone in order to glance at the time. 8:10.

With a worried sigh, you bit your lip and looked over yourself in the mirror. You were wearing your nicest dress clothes, you spent about three hours on your hair in order to ensure it was perfect, and just the simple thought of all that time spent for nothing made your heart plummet. Jason wouldn’t stand you up- at least, not on purpose, and perhaps that was what you feared the most. Did something happen? Is he hurt? Is he in danger?

Your entire body seems to heave relief at the sound of the doorbell, and you all but sprint to answer it. When you open the front door, Jason is standing there, obviously out of breath, and frantically attempting to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit. He has a few leaves in his disheveled hair, which causes you to huff out a small laugh and tilt your head in confusion.

Upon hearing your laughter, he catches your gaze, and quickly straightens his back. “Oh- hey! Uh, sorry I’m late- I got a bit caught up in a… in a thing.” He notices your expression. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You simply laugh a bit harder and lift a hand in order to snatch some of the leaves off his head. “Becoming one with nature, Jason?”

With a small blush to his cheeks- and even the tips of his ears- the raven haired male snags the leaves out of your grasp and throws them out and onto your lawn. “I uh… Yeah, let’s go with that.” He clears his throat before he holds out his hand. “Shall we be off?”

“We shall,” You respond, intertwining your fingers with his. He leads you to his motorbike, and you snarkily whisper: “Classy.”

“You’re always saying I have a bad boy complex to live by,” He responds easily, handing you a helmet.

You smirk, “True.” You accept the headgear and hop on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around his waist. Suddenly, you feel a small amount of relief that the helmet is hiding your face. You’d honestly never ridden a motorcycle before, and this was the very first date that Jason had taken you on. The rev of the engine pulls you from your thoughts momentarily, and then you’re speeding off.

It’s about three minutes into the ride that you see Jason quickly glance behind both of you and curse under his breath.

“Dammit, seriously? Why now?” He mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“Hold on tight, Y/N. I’m afraid we’re going to have to take a detour.”

Before you could even think to question further, your date turns sharply around a corner, and you hear bullets beginning to whiz past.

“Jay-?” You glance behind your shoulder and find a large, armored van speeding to catch up to you. Upon closer inspection, you can tell it’s Black Mask’s goons behind the wheel.

“So,” Jason drags out. “You know how I said I was caught up… in a thing?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, this might have been the thing. I was sure I took care of it though, so I don’t know why the fuck this is-”

“Jason, I think there’s a red light on the back of your neck.”

“What?”

“It’s just barely peeking out from your jacket.”

He barely turns in time to dodge the next barrage of bullets the assholes send your way. He reaches back and rips the small device you mentioned off of him. “Seriously?! They placed a tracker on me, without me noticing?!

“Y’know,” you respond back, frantically looking over behind you. “When you asked me out, this is not what I had in mind!”

“You and me both, gorgeous. Say, you know how to operate a motorcycle?”

“No!”

“Great, take over.”

“Wha- Jay!” You scramble to take hold of the handle bars as the man maneuvers himself to be the one behind you.

He pulls out a hidden pistol off of his person and begins shooting back. “You’re a natural, babe!”

You grit your teeth as you do everything in your power to not swerve the vehicle. “It will take a miracle for a second date, Todd.”

“Well, people see being alive after death as a miracle, so I think I might be able to manage.”

“Why did I have to fall in love with you of all people?” You mutter, irritated with yourself for feeling a small sense of comfort when he reaches back to squeeze your shoulder as he shoots a tire off from the van.

Well, if one thing was certain, Jason wasn’t lying when he told you this was going to be a night to remember. You most definitely would never forget being chased and shot at.

Stop Apologizing

Intro: My inspiration for this piece comes from a nap I took the other day.  I was feeling especially anxious and was curled in my bed, trying to take a nap, my arms wrapped around my pillow.  You know those pillows that have like arms and are meant to act as like a back rest for when you are sitting on your bed?  Yeah I had my arms wrapped around one of the arms and I thought it felt weird (yet very comfortable), like I had my arms wrapped around someone’s leg…. and voila!  You will see what I mean when you read this.  

Pairing: Bones x Reader (I promise more Kirk x reader to come!)

Word Count: 1904

Triggers: Fluff, awkwardness, nothing else

Summary: So basically the preface for this story is that Bones and the reader are classmates at the Academy and have become really close friends, studying together all the time.  The reader secretly loves Bones, but doesn’t say anything lest he not return the feelings and it ruins the friendship (yes very overdone plotline I know).  But one day it all changes…

-Enjoy!-

You felt warm and cozy as you pulled your pillow closer to your face, your arms wrapped around it tightly.  Snuggling your face into it you recoiled at the harsh texture of the material digging into your skin.  Lifting your head from the bed, you squinted your eyes against the light of the beside lamp and looked around, your eyes landing on a figure lying in the bed beside you.  

It was your best friend and fellow future doctor, Leonard, sitting slightly propped up against the headboard, a book in his hand.  He noticed you stirring and dropped the book a little, giving you a small smile. 

“Good morning, princess.” He teased and you could only squint up at him. 

It was in that moment that you realized that it was not a pillow that you had your arms wrapped around and face pressed against; it was Leonard’s jean-clad leg.  You froze in embarrassment, your eyes fully opening now as you realized the intimacy of your position.  You had your shins pressed up against the headboard, your knees at a 90 degree angle, and were laying on your side, the front of your body pressed against Leonard, your head near his knees and your arms wrapped around his thigh.  Only when you shifted did you realize that he had draped an arm over the back of your thighs, his hand resting on the bed just beside your butt.  

You rolled over, quickly pulling yourself from the intimate embrace and sat at the edge of the bed, your cheeks flaming in embarrassment and from the feeling of his arm draped against the bare skin of your thighs.  You took in a couple of shaky breaths before turning to face him, pulling your knees to your chest protectively.  

“How long was I asleep?” You asked, and rubbed at the sleep in your eyes. 

“6 or 7 hours.” Leonard responded non-chalantly, looking especially charming in his black-rimmed reading glasses.  

“7 HOURS!” You yelped in disbelief and looked at the clock, it was true, it was 7 hours later. 

You had come into Leonard’s quarters to study with him for the upcoming exam on alien anatomy, and had studied successfully for a few hours before you decided to do some independent reading.  You had lain down on your stomach beside him, your face propped up on your elbows, reading, your eyes getting heavy as the words blurred together, and you must have fallen asleep using Leonard as a pillow.  

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Not Letting Go - Part 3

Here’s part 3 of the Jason x Reader Soulmate AU!
So I know I am dragging this out stupidly long, but I think we’ve reached the halfway point! Major plot stuff will start happening soon! Hope you guys like it~

Part 1Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tagging: @jadedhillon

_______________________________________

The first thing that registered in your brain when you woke up the next morning was that you felt extremely warm. Also, your pillow seemed to be rising up and down ever so slightly. You grumbled irritably, nuzzling into it in an attempt to get back to sleep. A low resounding chuckle jolted you into wakefulness and your eyes shot open, only to find Jason looking down at you, his expression fond. “Goodmorning to you too,” he greeted, tone bemused. You realised belatedly that you were laying across his chest, apparently doing a very good impression of an octopus judging by the way your limbs were entangled with his. You gasped, feeling your face heat up as you attempted to scramble away.
“Jay I’m so sorry! I didn’t” “Shhhhh,” he hushed you, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a vice like grip to keep you from wriggling away. “Calm down doll, it’s alright,” His tone was soothing; you were sure you were red as a tomato right now. Nonetheless you halted your frantic attempt to escape, instead choosing to hide your face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. Jason removed a hand from your waist to stroke your hair; you could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke. “See? No harm done.” “I’m sorry I sleep like an octopus,” Your voice was muffled against his skin, but you knew he had heard you when he laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest beneath your ear. For some reason hearing it made you feel all warm and tingly. You groaned internally at your own mushiness. “Naw, you’re the best blanket I’ve ever had. I usually toss them off when I sleep. This morning I got to wake up warm for once,” You knew he was only trying to make you feel better, but it still worked. Unconsciously you started to relax against him. Then a thought struck horror into you. “Wait.. how long have you been awake?” Jason paused, and you already had your answer. “Oh god,” You moaned, defeated. He’d been awake before you and seen you attempting to entwine around him in your sleep. “Don’t be embarrassed doll, it’s adorable,” You just shook your head, deciding to let the subject drop before you died of mortification. “What time is it?” You turned your head to try and catch a glimpse of the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Eight thirty. Do you have to be somewhere?” His hold on you tightened fractionally, and you smiled at the reluctance in his words. “Yeah, I have class at ten,” You apologised, then paused. “You want to stay for breakfast?” Hope was like a living thing in your chest. You struggled to ignore it, glancing up at Jason. He grinned. “Doll I’d love to,”

You went to grab a quick shower, leaving Jason to sprawl across your bed and snuggle into your covers. The sight of him like that made it extremely difficult not to just climb back into bed and cuddle up with him, but somehow you managed not to. Once you were in the shower you took a moment to freak out, hopping up and down under the spray of hot water and hugging yourself tightly. The mix of excitement and nervousness was making you feel wired, and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm down, resting your head against the cold tile. You had never felt this way about anyone before Jason, had never allowed yourself to, and not just because he was your soulmate. It wasn’t uncommon for people to date others who weren’t their soulmate, you never knew when you would meet them so it wasn’t always practical to wait around. Your father hadn’t been your mum’s soulmate, they had been fifteen when they started dating in middle school. No, you had just been scared. Honestly you still were. Scared that Jason would leave, and even more scared of what would happen if he didn’t. His potential to change your future was almost terrifying. Your plan in life had never been very detailed, but a couple of things had always been concrete. You would go to college, graduate, get a stable job and make things better for both yourself and your mum. Now everything seemed uncertain. You still wanted to do all those things, but you didn’t know what impact Jason would have on that yet. And you knew already that you would give up so much to keep him with you.

When you had finished with your shower and gotten dressed, you checked that Jason’s clothes were dry and directed him towards the bathroom so he could clean up. Then you headed downstairs to start on breakfast. Your mum had already left for work so you didn’t have to worry about explaining why Jason was here. The night you had come downstairs wearing his jacket you had told her that it belonged to one of your friends. At the time you weren’t sure where things were going between the two of you and you didn’t want to get your mum’s hopes up. You knew she hoped you would meet your soulmate sooner rather than later, and you didn’t want to tell her that you weren’t sold on the concept. Now though… You figured you should probably tell her soon.
You mused over how you would go about breaking the news while you set about preparing breakfast, putting bacon and eggs to fry on the stove while you set the table. Jason emerged just as you were plating up the food, fresh and damp from the shower. He leaned in the doorway grinning at you, jacket drapped over his shoulder. You grinned back, unable to help yourself. His smile was infectious. “Smells delicious,” He commented, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, lowering his head to nuzzle into your neck. He sniffed, growling playfully. You let out a surprised laugh when you got the joke, swatting at him with the teatowel you were using to handle the hot plates. He chuckled, releasing you, and went to sit in the chair you shooed him towards. “Sorry, I didn’t know how you like your eggs,” you apologised, setting his plate down and taking your own seat across from him. He shook his head. “It looks great, thank you,” He hummed appreciatively when he took a bite and you smiled, tucking into your own food. “So what classes do you have today doll?” You chatted casually about your plan for the day, Jason interjecting occasionally to ask questions. He always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found that you loved that about him. “How about you? Any plans?” You asked curiously. He grimaced. “Just helping Bruce out with some W.E work probably,” You had been genuinely confounded when Jason told you that he was the supposedly dead son of the billionare Bruce Wayne. All he had told you about the issue was that it had been a kidnapping gone wrong, and Bruce had genuinely thought him dead. He had decided afterwards that announcing that Jason was alive after so long would cause an uproar; it wasn’t the kind of story Wayne Enterprises would want to be associated with. You hadn’t questioned it any further than that. You could sense that it was a sore subject, and you knew that Jason would tell you more when he was ready.

Jason stayed to help you wash up after breakfast, a little voice in the back of your mind noting with satisfaction how well you worked together. Once you were finished you hugged him goodbye at the door, promising to text him later once you got home. You had admitted to him a while back that you often waited up in case he decided to come over, and after that he had taken your phone number, promising to message you in the evening if he was going to drop by. He had seemed pleased by your admission, jokingly adding a heart next to his name in your phone.
Once he was gone you sat at the counter with your school work, deciding to review your notes before class. Not even five minutes later your mum popped her head around the kitchen door, nearly giving you a heart attack. “Ohmygod mum! I thought you had work this morning!” You gasped, cluthing a hand to your chest. “I thought you were an intruder!” You accused, and then realised that if she was home it meant that she knew Jason had been here. You were so screwed. Your mum just smiled knowingly. “I switched shifts. Is that boy gone? I must say he’s very handsome,” She breezed in, filling the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. “Of course I knew when I saw the jacket that he probably would be, he has very good taste,” She turned to give you a wink and you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands. Of course she knew. When had you ever been able to hide anything from her?

Your mum called your name and you looked up, finding her leaning against the counter looking at you, arms folded. “Is he your soulmate?” She wasn’t angry that you’d had a boy over and hadn’t told her, you knew that she trusted you. Still, you found that you were surprised nonetheless. You had been expecting more of a reaction. Instead she seemed happy, you suspected maybe even excited. You nodded hesitantly. “Yeah.. His name’s Jason,” She smiled. “Jason,” She repeated, mulling the name over. “How did you meet him?” You groaned internally. You knew this wouldn’t be the only time you would be asked this question, and quite frankly the answer was kind of embarrassing. “I kind of ran into him in town.. literally. He offered to help me up and I uh, I ran away,” you admitted, and she laughed, shaking her head fondly. “Of course you did. At least he had the sense to follow you. God knows I’ve been waiting for this long enough.” You hesitated. “Would you, um. Would you like to meet him?” You weren’t quite sure why you were asking. You knew you should probably clear it with Jason first, but you knew he was secretly dying to bring you home himself. You didn’t think he would mind. “I would love to. Why don’t you invite him over for dinner tonight?” “Okay,” you mumbled, and your mum smiled warmly, coming over to hug you tightly. You squeezed back, glad to finally be able to talk about Jason to her.
Once you were outside and on your way to class you decided to send Jason a text. ‘Mum found out about you. She wants to know if you’d like to come for dinner tonight? x’ You hesitated a little before adding the x, feeling childish, before deciding to hell with it and sending the message. Jason texted back almost immediately. ‘What time? I’ll be there. (: x’ You smiled to yourself, nervous excitement taking root in the pit of your stomach. It was going to be a long day.

Splitting

is a thought pattern symptom, primarily occurring in borderline personality disorder, in which one can not combine or equally distribute positive and negative qualities of oneself, others, or the world around them, into a united whole. As a result, thinking patterns and perceptions are dramatic, extreme, and often shift between positive and negative extremities. 

When one is upset, angry, or anxious, it may be hard to focus on anything else, calm oneself, or be optimistic and positive. This is normal. This thought pattern symptom is also not to be confused with various experiences that may result in normal over-generalizations.
On the other hand, splitting is a defense mechanism that results from a distortion in cognitive functioning. This severely and persistently affects the perception, social functioning, relations, emotional reactions, and every day life of the individual.
There are key features to distinguishing splitting from normal changes in opinions/feelings: splitting is extreme, sudden, intense, black-and-white, beyond typical control, and disrupts the overall functioning of the individual– meaning it affects one interpersonally, behaviorally, and so on. The trigger is typically very minor, slight, and “irrational” compared to what may contribute to others simply changing their opinions and feelings.

As mentioned, it is a primary symptom of borderline personality disorder. BPD is a chronic mental disorder characterized emotional hypersensitivity plus an impaired ability to regulate the extremities, resulting in instability of behaviors, relationships, and the self/identity 
Splitting occurs in this condition because the intense emotional reactions often result in an inability to separate these reactions from other factors and qualities. Emotions alter the way transmitters and thought processes function. Additionally, the frontal lobe and limbic system, which play a major role in thought processes, regulation, social relations, and triggers, have been shown to have structural differences in this condition.
Furthermore, the autonomic nervous system, which consists of two parts, (fight or flight, rest and digest) plays a huge role in decision making and thought patterns. This is easily triggered and hypersensitive in people with BPD (fight or flight/sympathetic system), and it also doesn’t regulate properly (rest and digest/parasympathetic system).
When a perceived threat occurs, the body basically instantly reacts. It triggers a defense and decision right then, on the spot. There is no time to “stall.”
With such emotional extremity and differences as opposed to individuals without the condition, splitting may also take place.

Splitting also occurs relative to trauma, as it can alter cognitive functions and reinforce disorders in some individuals. Emotional regulation and trauma are interconnected, and individuals with BPD are easily triggered and many have underwent trauma in their lives.

Examples of splitting scenarios include (possible tw):
1. In this scenario, say there is a boy who was abused as a child. As he grows older, he then associates every other person that reminds him of the abuser, as the abuser themselves.
A. -e.g., He was abused by a father figure, to which he then associates every male he sees with a son, as an abuser, like his own. He experiences intense fear of them and makes frantic attempts to avoid such encounters. The encounters may cause fits of rage, crying spells, and intense hatred.
-Notice how the splitting affects and alters the way he feels, communicates, socializes, whether or not he isolates himself, and so on.

A component of splitting also includes idealization and devaluation.
-Idealization
is addressing such emotional stressor or trigger by attributing exaggerated positive qualities
-Devaluation is addressing such emotional stressor or trigger by attributing exaggerated negative qualities

People with BPD may switch between such depending on the emotional reaction (positive or negative) and may also switch depending on perception.

2. In this scenario, say someone with BPD “idealizes” someone in their life. They continuously care for, praise, and admire the person in their life. They frequently talk about the person highly and they may be slightly dependent on them. Without warning, they then (devalue) cut off contact with the person in their life, and the admiration and high praise stops. They may avoid them for a while and have feelings of betrayal and fear.

Other general examples of splitting include:
-
Instantly not trusting a family member or best friend in any way, due to a sudden perception of abandonment and betrayal
-
Suddenly becoming afraid of someone they felt safe with
-
Suddenly shifting from being hypersexual and sexually interested in someone to finding the person undesirable or even repulsive
-
Looking up to a teacher or co-worker, believing them to be intelligent and a great adviser, and then suddenly hating or believing them to be unintelligent
-Feeling happy and proud of yourself, then suddenly shifting to suicidal self-hatred within a few minutes and viewing yourself as unreal and evil

Splitting often occurs because of the different triggers, perceptions, and the emotional reactions in BPD.
For example, one common trigger is the symptoms and reactions of abandonment, rejection, and perceived negative criticism within the disorder. It can be as simple as one word, perceived to have a negative meaning. (Specific symptoms here x).
Other examples include the various emotional reaction symptoms (anger symptoms, identity symptoms, anxiety symptoms, etc), trauma, or multiple other possibilities. 


Other general communication examples of splitting may include:
A. “Always and never” statements and perceptions
- “You always leave me, you’re never here.”

B. “One way or another/this or that” statements and perceptions
-”If you’re not with me, then you’re against me.”

Overall, notice how this can happen in various situations and components and can occur differently and uniquely per individual context.

For instance, if you look at all the ways this can present itself from various situations and reactions (emotions), plus combine it with the difficulty in BPD regarding thought processing, and other symptoms, you’ll see how different it can present itself and the complexity.

Such a symptom and condition is often confusing or misunderstood by some individuals, so I hoped to provide awareness and education in this post.

What a Catastrophe [Marauders x Gryffindor! Reader – Marauders Era]

PROMPT ♥
[Requested] When a cat is left in the hands of a bunch of troublemakers, what could possibly go wrong?
♥ A/N ♥
Just as a side-note, I’m completely aware that Dumbledore probably has Apparation restrictions in place at Hogwarts at this time, but just for the sake of the story, let’s pretend. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this, darling xx
WARNINGS
Swearing
WORD COUNT
1422

Originally posted by the-nargles-made-me-do-it

Originally posted by aliceksweeet


15. “I’m never trusting you with my cat again.”

There was never necessarily a point in time where you wanted to trust the Marauders, but desperate times called for desperate measures, you supposed.

You looked at the four Marauders sternly, gripping your beloved fur-baby close to your chest. Though you really wanted to stay and cuddle her in the common-room, you had a meeting with Professor McGonagall to discuss potential careers and you were rather torn between leaving your cat to fend for herself against a bunch of marauding bigots or to sneak her into McGonagall’s office. Sirius had a sincere expression while James blinked innocently, Remus bearing a gentle smile and Peter looking like he wanted to wet himself in the presence of an animal.

“You better feed her,” you said.

Sirius grinned heartily, barking out a laugh. “We will, Y/N.”

“You’ll need to let her sleep when she curls up on the couch, so don’t bother her she’s tired.”

“Yes, love.”

“If she looks sad, give her love and attention.”

“Why couldn’t it be a puppy?” James whispered to Remus and looked like a deer—or a stag, more-like—caught between the glare of a pair of headlights when you glanced over at him. “I love dogs.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Just… just take care of her, please.”

Sirius saluted. “Yes, sir!”

Slowly, you relinquished your hold on Esmeralda onto the ground. You fluffed up the hair of her head and smiled brilliantly when she purred against your palm. “I’ll see you soon, love,” you whispered to her. With one last glare towards the Marauders, you made a hasty exit. You were already ten minutes late to the meeting.

Esmeralda curled her way around Sirius’s leg, meowing softly at his lack of attention. With a roll of his eyes and a stretch of his arms, Sirius leaned back against the arm of a nearby chair. He raised his eyebrows at his mates. “How ‘bout a trip to the kitchens, yeah?”

Remus frowned, a conflicted look appearing on his face. “But… what about Esmeralda?”

Sirius shrugged. “She can just come with us, I guess.” Esmeralda gave a light push into his left pants leg—whether in agreement or protest, the Marauders couldn’t tell. She was a cat—two-years old, according to your strange track-keeping—and she had a decent splattering of color. Her fur coat was full of browns, blacks, and whites—a rather nice coating, but only moderately.

James grappled her up into his arms. He flinched and crowed lowly when Esmeralda’s claws sank deep into his robe sleeves and right into the skin of his forearm. “Let’s hurry, please.” He yelped when she started hissing, left paw raising and swiping up at his chin. “Bloody hell, cat! How in the sodding name of Merlin am I going to get my Lily-flower now?”

“C’mon, ya pansy,” Sirius said. He pushed himself up from the armchair and sauntered over towards the common-room entrance. His smirk was arrogant and mischievous. “Food awaits.”

The bloody cat scratched and scratched and scratched at James’s face, repeatedly opening up wounds and smearing previous trails of blood. When they arrived at the pear portrait, James’s face was an absolute bloody mess. He’d finally learned his lesson at personal space and now held the cat out like she was a ticking time-bomb just minutes from detonating.

“I sodding hate cats,” he grumbled. “Why couldn’t Y/N give us an owl? I’d rather deal with a sodding toad than this…”

Sirius glanced at James as he tickled the pear. A smirk illuminated his handsome features. “You deal with a toad every time you look in the mirror, dear Prongs,” he said cheerfully, eyes gleaming with excitement as the portrait swung open to reveal the kitchen.

James almost immediately dropped Esmeralda to the ground, face looking drained of the ability to care as he watched her run towards the tables. Remus widened his eyes to a comical height. “Is that… wise, James?” he asked hesitantly.

James didn’t really care as long as the devil-spawn didn’t come any closer to him or his precious dimples. “Of course it’s wise,” he insisted arrogantly. “It’s just a bloody cat.”

Then, they heard a sudden racket coming from over by a long-table. The four Marauders glanced over to see two house-elves fleeing in their direction, shrieking with fear as Esmeralda chased after them. With a sickening crack, the tiny critters Apparated, leaving Esmeralda to hiss and slice at sheer air. James and Remus eyed it with caution while Sirius just grinned at its ferocious little temper.

Peter began to sneeze, over and over again until James reached over to slap him upside the head. “Merlin, Wormtail; is the dust really that bad in here?” he asked, a reproachful look on his face. Peter frantically shook his head, attempting to cover his nose to avoid any more obnoxiously-loud “ACCCC-HOOs!”

“No—I’m a-allergic to cat fur,” he stammered out, voice rather nasally and full of unwarranted lisps.

James threw his hands up. “That’s just great!” he shouted, too caught up in his own woes to even apologize when several of the house-elves on the far-end jumped at the volume. “Stupid bloody cats, always having to ruin everything—”

“You might want to stop while you’re ahead, Prongs,” Remus said. “If Y/N hears you saying that, she’ll never talk to you ever again.” James just rolled his eyes, not bothered in the slightest.

“Is she Lily Evans, Moony?” he asked rhetorically. “Then let her yell.”

Sirius, ever the knight in shining armor, was chasing around Esmeralda, spewing out a string of curses whenever he’d accidentally bump into a wall, table, or chair. “Come here, you bloody cat!”

One of the house-elves hesitantly approached the lot, bearing a plate of freshly-baked cookies. “Would Masters James and Remus like a plate of cookies?” he said sweetly, holding it up for the two to see. Peter himself was a few feet away, mouth salivating hungrily at the sight. However, before the unoccupied Marauders could kindly thank the critter for the hospitality, Esmeralda was weaving her way through the poor elf’s legs, and Sirius came tumbling underneath. The cookies were sent everywhere, and the elf shrieked in fear, Apparating without a second thought.

Chocolate chips and cookie crumbs were scattered all over the floor, and an elf that was just now bringing a platter with hot chocolate was forced to also drop her bearings. Esmeralda seemed to be weary of anything and everything, and blood smeared its way on the floor after a certain swipe made the elf’s little leg start bleeding.

“Oh, shite,” Sirius muttered, still in the same position and with chocolate covering his chin. “That didn’t go according to the plan.”

Remus looked uncertain and disappointed. “When do you ever have a plan?” he asked. Sirius just shrugged, looking to be without an answer.

James cleared his throat, an arrogant gleam appearing in his eyes. “I’ve got this,” he said. With a crack of his knuckles, he approached Esmeralda. Unfortunately for him, the cat believed him to fancy a game of cat-and-mouse. Esmeralda eyeballed him snidely then sprinted off. Her tiny legs were rather agile and fast for something so… well, inhuman.

In a mere five minutes, the place was covered in food, lacking in house-elves, and looking like a tornado had torn apart the furniture. James was in the middle, smacking at Esmeralda. The cat just didn’t want to leave him the bloody hell alone.

Remus and Sirius were silently freaking the fuck out, debating what to do in the situation, when suddenly you walked through the door, a frenzied expression on her face. You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight before you. “What… the… hell?”

In synchronized panic, Remus, James, and Sirius pointed at Peter. The poor boy sputtered, his protests stifled by the sudden sneezes. You rolled your eyes, finding it difficult to be annoyed when the poor boys looked like they were about to wet themselves in fear of your rage.

Esmeralda scurried her way to you, purring and meowing, rubbing herself up against your leg. You smiled softly, lifting her up into your arms. You cooed softly, scratching behind her left ear. Then, suddenly remembering the problem at hand, you turned your cutting blade—also known as your eyes—back to the four Marauders. You glowered at them. “I’m never trusting you guys with my cat again,” she said.

James gasped out a breath of relief. “Thank Merlin.”

spitfirerose  asked:

400 Follower Prompt (Congrats!): Prompto getting the all TLC he deserves after being rescued by the guys. Lots of assurances that this is real and he's safe and loved.

Thank you for the prompt! This one was a lot of fun to do. <3

===

Real

===

Ardyn’s voice is low and insinuating – casual and almost amiable. “Oh, come now,” he says. “If they were going to retrieve you, surely they would have made an appearance already.”

They have made an appearance already, and Ardyn damn well knows it. 

He’s taken each of their faces in turn: Noct, eyes bright, Prompto’s name frantic on his lips. Gladio, charging in like an enraged behemoth, promising retribution. Ignis, intent and calm, only the crease of his brow and the slight tremble of his hands giving away the concern.

Prompto’s seen it all. He’s seen them come, one at a time, to free him from this place. He’s seen them melt away to leave only Ardyn – only the pain that his hands bring and cruel twist of his lips.

Ardyn leans in. He touches the line of Prompto’s jaw, proprietary and condescending. “Perhaps they’ve decided you’re just not worth the trouble,” he says into Prompto’s ear, softly, like he’s sharing a secret.

Prompto wakes all at once – sits bolt upright with a gasp.

His cheeks are wet, and his chest is heaving, but he just can’t seem to get enough air. 

When Noct says, “Prompto?” he can’t respond.

When Noct sits down on the cot beside him, slides an arm around him and says, “Hey. Breathe, Prom. You’re okay,” Prompto just cries harder.

He’s not okay. He’s not.

He feels like he’s breaking. If Noct’s face melts away and it’s Ardyn underneath again, he’s going to lose his godsdamned mind.

“Say something,” he manages to gasp. “All of you. Say – I need to know it’s you.”

There’s a brief pause – as the words sink in, most likely, and the implications that go with them.

Ignis catches on first. He sets a gentle hand on the crown of Prompto’s head, and he says, “The first time I met you, Noct phoned me, absolutely frantic, because your attempt at baking a cake nearly burned down his apartment.”

It’s like a spell: Prompto feels the steel bands around his chest ease, just slightly.

Gladio’s been standing watch by the door, but he ambles over now. He’s still not looking, like tears are something contagious that he might catch from coming too close. He says, “When the photographer we got for Iris’ thirteenth birthday party bailed at the last minute, you stepped in and covered it.”

Prompto scrubs at his cheeks. Gods, why does his throat still ache?

Noct says, “Senior year you stayed the night one time. Well, a lot of times. But this time, I woke up and you had on the biggest shit-eating grin I ever saw. You’d waited till I fell asleep, then stayed up all night beating my high score in every shooting game I own.”

Prompto chokes on the laugh in his throat. It comes out kind of strangled. “Dude,” he manages. “You loved it. You wouldn’t even know what to do without me.”

He’s expecting more teasing. He’s expecting some flippant response. He isn’t expecting Noct to pull back, just enough so that he can take in Prompto’s expression. His eyes are intent – searching. “You’re right,” he says. “I wouldn’t.”

“None of us would, I’m afraid,” says Ignis. “We were rather at a loss without you, in Tenebrae.”

Gladio’s silent for a moment longer. At last he adds, “Wasn’t really the same without you.”

They’re real. All of them are.

Thank all the Astrals, they’re real.

Noct’s pressed up against his side, warm and solid. Ignis still has a hand on his head, calming and steadying. Gladio’s bulk blocks the door from view – putting himself, quite literally, between Prompto and the threat that Ardyn poses.

“Thanks, guys,” Prompto manages, voice small and wavering, and he’s never meant anything more in his whole life.