type tables

Some Nincobra headcanons

so i saw one post about headcanons, and i could not resist about making sums about my otp, so be prepared

°The thing about Kid cobra covering his whole body is because he is a snake, and he is afraid of people discovering he and judgin it, the only persons that know he is a snake are his close ones and Ninjara, who supports he in all the ways possible

°As saw in another headcanon post, i like to think that Ninjara has anxiety, because he is not the popular one, or just doesn’t good whit fans, so when he has panick attacks, Kid cobra takes him to a calm space so ninjara can be calm

°Kid cobra asked Ninjara to be his boyfriend in mid of a stream. As result, Ninjara didn’t expect it so it was all red faced, when Kid cobra asked him is he was ok, Ninjara just say’d yes.

°The first time that Kid cobra brought Ninjara to snakeboard, ninjara thinked that the snakeboard whas a type of table, so when he saw Kid cobra at the top of it, just asked why he was in the top of a table, then Kid cobra had to explain him that was the snake board

°Ninjara is always up to teach tings to Kid cobra whenever he wants, or needs, and Kid cobra knows this, so he is every time asking he weird questions because he loves the intelectual side of Ninjara

°Ninjara sometimes thinks how outgoing is Kid cobra, and how he actually wants to be less-reserved, but he can’t because, everytime he tries just gave up and just keep reserved.

Undercover - Jughead Jones

Hi! Could I get a Jughead x Reader imagine where the reader and Jughead are best friends, but the reader has feelings for Jughead but doesn’t tell him. One day she goes “undercover” to get info about Jason’s death for Jughead and he sees her undercover and realizes he has feelings for her, and then there’s some rated T action and fluff between them? Thanks!

I kinda twisted the meaning of it but it lead to *high pitched screaming*

Originally posted by squintlovely


Being best friends with Jughead Jones isn’t the easiest thing in the world. He’s not the friendliest person to begin with, but some can easily look past that, like yourself. You and Jughead had been close every since you could remember, but the summer before Sophomore year changed things. Jughead became more reclusive and less in touch with you. It all happened after Jason Blossoms’ death. The day before school started up again, you invited yourself over to his house. Needless to say, Jughead was surprised.

“Y/N?” He asked, the bags under his eyes telling you he must’ve just woken up. Despite the normal summer heat, he was wearing a loose sweater and sweatpants. Just seeing him again, after so long, made your heart flutter. You quickly pushed it down and regained your angry composure. “I haven’t seen you in months, Jug!” You said, obviously breaking him out of his tired state. He quickly pulled you inside his house, and you accidently bumped into his chest. It was so tempting to hug him, but you fought the urge and watched as he closed the door behind you. When he faced you, you saw how intense his gaze was. “I’m sorry about that, Y/N, I am.” He said, his tone serious. “I’ve been working on something,” he said as he walked past you, beckoning you to follow him. He lead you to his room then to his desk where an open laptop rested. Pages of text cluttered the screen and just by skimming through the document the words ‘Summer’, ‘Jason Blossom’, and ‘presumed dead’ caught your eye. You turned to face Jughead who stood, unmoving, next to you. “This is what you were doing?” You asked, turning back to study the words he had typed.

“Yeah, ever since I heard he was missing.” He muttered, but you couldn’t help but be amazed by your friend. His drive and dedication to his writing was eye-opening. You faced him once more with a grin on your features. “Do you need help?”

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I was trying to write a post about how I could not believe that six months after meeting Even, Isak is now the type of person who gets up at eight, even when he doesn’t have school, and the type of person who actually likes pictures in which people make fun of him instead of like, freaking out but then I remember how soft Isak’s voice sounded when he was talking to Even in that car on Monday and you know what. I can. I absolutely can.

4

Someone save Solas from Miel.

There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet
Panic! At The Disco
There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet

Day 113 of 365 - Panic! At The Disco, “There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought Of It Yet”

i bet to them, your name is “cheap”
i bet to them, you look like shh

2

instagram au » modern sansan

The bear, the bear!
Lifted her high into the air!
The bear! The bear!
I called for a knight, but you’re a bear!
A bear, a bear!
All black and brown and covered with hair
She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,
But he licked the honey from her hair.
Her hair! Her hair!
He licked the honey from her hair!
Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!
My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!
And off they went, from here to there,
The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair.

Weasley Parents + Coming Out

The first conversation of this type at this table had been Charlie, at seventeen, so serious and so scared. He’d looked down at his hands, not meeting Molly’s eyes, or even Arthur’s. The word asexual was whispered like something shameful, and the Weasley parents stumbled over each other to explain that it wasn’t. Shameful. That they loved him anyway. 

They walked away from the conversation feeling close to Charlie, glad for the opportunity to be trusted like this, and for the chance to reassure him of their unconditional love. They hadn’t expected the conversation to be the first of many. 

Fred’s turn was next, a few years later. He was sixteen, and Molly assumed when he asked for his parents attention at the kitchen table that he was about to confess to the mysterious burn mark on the outside of the house, just under Ron’s attic window. When he instead said that he was bisexual, Molly found herself almost relieved. It was Arthur who did the reassuring that time, though they both hugged him before he left the kitchen. 

Ginny’s coming out had been almost casual. She, too, had been sixteen, and had addressed her concerns mainly to her mother, sure that her father wouldn’t fly off the handle. As it turned out, Molly nodded and said that she had known all along, and Arthur laughed and started counting on his fingers.

Harry felt the same conversation necessary, after his breakup with Ginny. He looked, while pronouncing the words, as if he had put something very sharp in his mouth and was getting up the courage to swallow it. “You’ve taken me in and I broke up with your daughter, and I might start dating boys and I’m – I, I’m sorry.” 

Molly’s heart broke, like it always does when Harry’s lack of parental affection throughout his life shines through, and she reached for him, reassuring him that of course it was alright, they loved him like one of their sons, he doesn’t need to hide this about himself. Arthur laughed. “You saved three of our lives, Harry, and then the entire world. It would take a lot more than bisexuality to put us off of you.” It shocked Harry that he hadn’t been the one to use the word, but they had known anyway. He felt so much lighter, so much freer having told someone other than Ginny how he felt. The entire world felt within his grasp, now, with such a strong base of love to draw from. 

The last conversation - of their children, at least, their grandchildren were going to have their own sets of comings-out - didn’t happen at the kitchen table, but rather, at the front door on Christmas Eve, when Oliver Wood, dressed to the nines and bearing a beautiful poinsettia and a bottle of elf-wine, trailed happily behind Percy. “Mother, you remember Oliver from our school days. I’ve brought him tonight as my partner,” Percy said, in a voice that left no room for disapproval or argument. “I would have brought him before, but we didn’t want to steal Ginny’s thunder from the wedding.” 

Molly smiled, kissed Percy and thanked Oliver for the poinsettia, seemingly nonplussed, and just happy to everyone she loved, and everyone her children loved all under one roof. 

8

From the first day I met you, you never let anything go. You’re the most stubborn, on track person I know. You stick to your guns and I’ve always admired that about you. This… This is the first thing you ever let go of something, especially something so fundamentally important to you. Wanting a big happy family is in your blood, your family’s blood, your ancestors blood. Something I never thought you’d compromise, but at that dinner with your parents before our wedding, I realised how much I mean to you.

- S

I realized today (correct me if I’m wrong)

Solange is the only celebrity I can think of who “shared” her natural hair journey with us. We saw her from her big chop to what her hair has grown out to be and probably will continue to become. We’ve seen the braids and wigs and other protective styles in between and I think it such a beautiful thing to want to share with fans and the world where most people, especially celebrities, only want to show their natural hair once it’s grown out to shoulder/ back length. I think that being able to grow out your hair to those lengths is beautiful in itself. I just see a more relatable beauty with Solange. Where those who are struggling with accepting their natural hair especially when their curls are really tight and 75% of the naturals around them have really loose curls. 

But yeah.

BTS Reaction #30 - The paparazzi catches you two on a date before your relationship goes public

@imstra08 asked: Can I request a bts reaction of you and them are together and anyone know and one day you and them go a it for a walk and the paparazzi found you (sorry for my bad English ) love you have a nice day or night ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤


Seokjin: “What am I going to tell my grandmother?! She didn’t even get to meet you first! And the company is going to be so pissed… and Omo, your grandparents too!!!”

He’s just so worried about how those closest to you two will react when they had to learn from the news instead of you two directly. He would feel even worse if you were upset too.

Originally posted by je0n

Namjoon: He’s honestly just so chill about it.

“Babe I would only be worried if I weren’t sure about you. I’m sure that I love you though and that we’ll be together for a long time, so we don’t have to worry about this turning into a scandalous story. All they can say is that we’re together. Even though we weren’t quite ready, we’ll let them know we’re strong enough to last through these trials.”

Originally posted by bangthebae

Hoseok: “This is fine.”

It was not fine.

He was nervous that the fans would hate the thought of you together and that maybe you two weren’t strong enough quite yet to withstand that. The Army is a huge fanbase so he’d be thinking about everything that could go wrong when they found out.

You would have to assure him that you were sure about him enough to withstand whatever the fans said regardless if it were good or bad.

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

the other members below the cut~

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anonymous asked:

Are you still taking prompts? How about Sherlock admitting to John that when he faked his death, he took something of John's with him? (Your ficlets are the best!)

It’s nothing at all, really. But John still notices it.

He’s typing at the table when he spots it- just a paperweight, barely holding down a precarious pile of Sherlock’s papers.

The thing is, it was John’s. It wasn’t anything he’s particularly cared about, especially after- all that. When he was clearing out his things, he’d vaguely noticed it wasn’t there, the tiniest of niggles in the back of his mind that had been drowned out by everything else.

Now, though… John turns his head. Sherlock is sitting in his arm chair, typical prayer like thinking pose, but John can tell he’s only daydreaming.

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock opens one eye. “Hmm?”

Just for fun, just because he can, John throws him the paperweight. Sherlock catches it deftly, both eyes open now, wide awake.

“Where’d you find this?” John asks. “Thought I’d lost it…”

He trails off at Sherlock’s expression: mouth closed, lips pressed tightly, eyes wide and suddenly…sad.

Sherlock clears his throat. “I’m going to bed.

And oh, how John knows avoidance when he sees it. He leans back and glances at the time displayed on the laptop. “It’s not that late,” he says quietly , but Sherlock is already off down the hall.

“I’m tired,” is all he replies.

Ah, John thinks. He gives Sherlock a few minutes breathing space, and then he follows him. Sherlock is in bed, back to the door, back tense. John carefully slides under the covers and presses a light kiss to Sherlock’s back, just so he knows he’s there.

“Hey,” John says, keeping his voice soft. “You don’t have to… We can leave it if…”

He’s still none the wiser as to what’s really wrong, so he keeps his sentences unfinished. But Sherlock saves him from doing anymore, his hand reaches out to John’s and presses the paperweight into his palm. It’s warm.

“I- I took it,” Sherlock says, voice almost a whisper.

John puts the paperweight on his bedside cabinet. “Okay? That’s fine-”

But Sherlock is shaking his head. “No, John. I took it when-”

His breathing catches just the tiniest bit and John places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Thankfully, Sherlock turns to face him, taking a deep breath.

“I took it when… when we were checking the flat for cameras. When-”

His voice dies but John doesn’t need to hear anymore, he knows exactly when Sherlock means. His stomach lurches but he tries not to let it show, focussing on wrapping his arms around Sherlock.

“Why?”

A shaky exhale. “Because I…I knew that- no, no, John, not like that, not everything. I just…” A swallow. “I knew Lestrade was coming. God, I felt sick, I- I knew…Well, the thing was, I didn’t know when I’d be back in the flat.”

“Oh,” John says. He doesn’t think he can trust his voice to say anything else, but Sherlock’s still going, a dam broken:

“Knew I couldn’t risk taking something obvious, like a photo or-or-you’d notice. I just knew I needed a-a-something… I slipped it in my coat pocket just before Lestrade-

He breaks off again, and John sees Sherlock’s hands clutched together, as if he can still feel the handcuffs on his wrists.

"Sherlock?”

Sherlock looks at him, and John pulls him closer. He can feel Sherlock’s back jump just a little under his fingertips.

“Thank you, Sherlock. For- for letting me know.”

Sherlock breathes out, finally long and smooth and steady. And John knows that while it was a lie before, Sherlock is truly tired now. He stays with him, slowly stroking his back until, little by little, he feels Sherlock’s whole body relaxing in sleep. He waits, then kisses him goodnight, going to set up the table for breakfast the next day.

The paperweight stays on the cabinet.

——————–

http://jenna221b.tumblr.com/post/156451464115/my-ask-box-is-open-for-wee-ficlet-prompts-should

One and Only pt. 2

Prompt: You need a little bit of T.L.C. after being shot on a mission and that includes a new roommate. You have a massive crush on him and he’s clueless.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2,071

Warnings: none? painkillers (i guess? not drug abuse though.)

A/N: some more fluffy stuff. still in love with bearded steve nice. let me know if you want to be tagged.

Tagged: @defendors @marvelfandom-stuff @cchrriissuuu @katexbishopx @all-around-geek @thorne93 @brittanymcsharry 

Part 1

———

Originally posted by amerlcachavez

It took some major convincing, and a bit of pulling of his limbs on Bucky’s part, but Steve agreed to leave the apartment and take a break. Bucky explained to all of you he planned to take him out to a bar and see some live music. It just didn’t feel right to see him walk out of the door. Even with Nat and Wanda, both of whom you considered to be your best friends, something felt like it was missing as soon as Steve walked out the door.

“Rogers just needs a lover.” Natasha said once you were all settled. She shrugged before she took a sip of her drink. The conversation somehow traveled to Steve. Why did it always travel to Steve? “Like, someone needs to just really…” She bit her lip and started laughing.

“Or the easier and less gross solution: he could, you know, get a hobby.” Wanda tilted her head, opening the bottle of nail polish.

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A Home for the Homeless - Jughead Jones

Originally posted by sarcasticagony

The sound of the diner bell rang as someone entered Pop’s. The noise did not seem to phase the young boy who was sitting alone at a table typing furiously on his laptop. His half-finished hamburger sat beside him, getting colder by the minute. 

Jughead Jones; a sardonic, introverted sophomore who chose to spend his time writing the best mystery novel of his time. 

The drive-in had officially closed. One last movie had played for the entire town to come and reminisce the times they shared at the theatre. This closing, however, meant the most to young Jughead as it was his home. He often referred to it as his home away from home, but that was not the case. Jughead refused to let anyone know he was a resident of this theatre and would become homeless if it did close. 

So he sat. He wrote. And he tried to forget the day he had, escaping into the world of literature. His focus was soon deterred as she walked into the diner. Her wet hair and clothes clinging to her body and she shook from the cold. He watched her intently as she approached the counter. She had not noticed that Jughead was sitting in the booth behind her. 

“Hey, I’m here to grab my order.” She told the man at the counter with a smile. He smiled back, grabbing a takeout bag that had been waiting for her. She took the bag from the man’s hand and thanked him. As she turned around, her eye caught Jughead’s and he immediately looked down, feeling embarrassed she had caught him staring. “Hey Jug!” She said, approaching his table. 

“Hey Y/N, what are you doing up this late?” He asked, concern covering his face. It was just past eleven o’clock. 

“I could ask you the same question,” she teased. “My parents are away and I couldn’t sleep, not after everything that has been going on around here.”

“Such unprecedented events in such a mediocre town.” He said. “Do you want to sit? I mean unless you want to get home.” Jughead said, stuttering over his words. Y/N smiled and scooted into the booth across from him. 

“So what’s a tortured author like you doing in here so late on a Saturday night?” She inquired, opening her takeout bag and popping a fry in her mouth. 

“I guess I couldn’t sleep either.” He said, refusing to tell her that he really had nowhere to sleep. Y/N could see right through him. They had known each other forever. “This place provides me with some inspiration.” He said, stealing one of her fries. 

“I won’t pry, Jug. But I’m here if you need to talk.” He looked down and swallowed. He contemplated on telling her about his situation, about his temporary homelessness. 

“Do you want the rest of my shake?” He asked, completely avoiding the question. Y/N sighed at his stubbornness, but nodded. He slid the milkshake across the table and watched as Y/N sipped it, watching the almost empty street outside. 

The two of them sat in comfortable silence, Jughead stared at Y/N when she was not paying attention and Y/N did the same. The mutual fondness was prominent to anyone observing them, however the two never picked up on any signals. 

“Do you want to come over tonight?” Y/N asked. She knew Jughead was going to spend the night at the diner and could not let him spend a night without sleep. 

“What?” Jughead asked, seemingly shocked. “No, I was just uh-” He cut himself off, not knowing what to say. 

“Jug, I know something is up and I know that you need some sleep. Come on, you can stay in the guest room, it doesn’t get used anyway.” She insisted. Y/N was never the blunt type, but she knew Jughead had hardly been sleeping by the bags circling around his eyes. 

“I don’t want to intrude,” he said. 

“Intrude? On my party for one?” Y/N laughed and sipped her shake. “If anything, you’re doing me a favour. I don’t feel safe in this town anymore.” That wasn’t entirely the truth. Y/N didn’t mind being alone, she knew whoever killed Jason had a reason and wasn’t a complete psychopath. 

“Okay.” Jughead said, shoving his hand in his jacket pocket and throwing down money onto the table. 

Once they got outside, they found the rain had died down. They began to walk to Y/N’s house, creating small conversation. Jughead was trying to find the words to tell the girl walking beside him how much he cared about her. He wanted to tell her that she was one of the only reasons he could get up and go to school. He longed for second period when they got to sit beside each other. 

“The drive-in was my home,” he blurted out. Instantly, he regretted his impulsive decision. 

“Yeah, I know how much you loved it. I mean how could someone just buy such a great place. Some obdurate twit.” Y/N said. Jughead was quiet for a moment. 

“Y/N, I mean the drive-in was my home. I don’t live with my family anymore. I’ve been sleeping there.” He looked down, feeling ashamed. 

“Jughead…” Y/N trailed off. She couldn’t conjure up the words to say to him, so she just pulled him into a hug. He held onto her tight. He held onto her as if he would never see her again. “Don’t be ashamed, Jug.” 

He peered down at her. Her eyes became glossy at the thought of Jughead being alone. He had no one to come home to, not even a home to come home to. “Don’t cry Y/N,” he smiled and wiped her tear away with his thumb. “I’ll be okay.” He reassured her. Though he was saying all of this to make Y/N feel better, part of him was saying this to reassure himself. 

Jughead held Y/N’s delicate face in his hands, staring in her eyes. He leaned in slightly, peering down at her lips. Y/N closed the gap between their lips, igniting a flame in both of their stomachs. Their lips moved in sync and in that moment, Jughead felt more at home than he had ever felt. 

Somebody To Love - Chris Evans

summary: Chris keeps trying to tell you he’s in this for the long haul. You, however, don’t think he realizes what the haul will enquire. Does he know there’s more to you than what you show him? Does he see the pain in your eyes?  

people: Chris - Reader (you)

warnings: none. 

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I want this to be dedicated to a loving and caring person who knows what having everyday pain is like. @sfreeborn you are a warrior, and like me, you have to get up and go on with your day even when it feels like hell. You are so amazing and I just hope this imagine is something you’ll enjoy, I only want to make you happy, dear. - R .xx


Have you ever felt just…so angry at nothing? You just endure the anger because you can’t blame anyone! You just swallow the pill of tolerance every day and wait until you’ve reached the point of no return. You become your anger. Water that’s boiling hot in a spot right inside your heart. Your loved ones, they try to help but what can help a lost cause? I’m gone, I’m done. I can’t keep pretending, and I know it’ll feel like ripping off a band-aid of a bee sting. But he knows it, and I know it.

I’m not enough.

I’m just so angry, all the time… but who am I angry at? Myself? My body for defying it’s one duty of protecting and nurturing me? No. I was just angry. Angry.

My eyes opened fast and immediately I regretted my decision to wake up. I lifted up my arms to rub my eyes and sit up but fell back into the bed. My arms felt like I’d gone to the gym last night and lifted twenty-pound weights; all night long. Aching so badly my hand shook as I reached for my phone on the bedside table. Typing in my password, I opened up my messages and saw his name right at the top of my contact list, with a blue dot on the left.

Chris: Love wake up! Your coming to set today to meet the cast! Anthony says he’s excited to meet Mrs. America haha XP

Chris: Honey? :)

Chris: Ladybug? You’re normally awake by ten… are you okay?

Chris: Babe?

Chris: okay I’m worried now, I’ve called ten times, I’m coming home.

Jesus… why the hell was he up my ass right now?

Glancing at the time my body released a tender sigh, 2:45 P.M.

How had I missed his calls? I always knew it was him by his custom ringtone; “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé. My ringer was on loud too, so why the hell had I missed them all?

Dropping my phone onto the white comforter that held me hostage in a tight, comfy cocoon. Awaiting for Chris to come through the door in panic any minute. He’d be racing the highway to get here and I was already guilt-ridden enough, I didn’t want to cause him an accident by calling him so I awaited his booming voice he never realized pierced my eardrums like shards of glass.

***

The fight started when he found her in her pajamas, rifling through the tea collection in the kitchen. When he saw her, looking to him like just a lazy-ass, he started in on her. Never seeing the pain in her eyes as his voice hurt her ears like he was scraping his nail down the chalkboard. She tried to hold her own, but there was a Mardi Gras that was going on inside her brain that prohibited her from even hearing his voice. That was, until he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter, making my pain suddenly become power. Angry, nasty, vulnerable power.

“You listen to me, Chris!” His head jumped up to look at her red, puffy eyes. They poured anger into his, and immediately Chris felt himself realize his fuck up of yelling. 

He knew she had chronic pain. Normally, she would just power through it. Lately, though, she seemed… slower, more tired and less driven to be intimate with him… he should’ve known that there was more than just a headache to her chronic pain.

“You listen, okay? I’m am a fucking mess, Chris! I have days, where I can’t get out of bed! I’m depressed, therefore I’m not a confident person, ever. I’m always uncomfortable, scared or tired! Do you know how that feels? A-And, s-sometimes I’m just…sometimes I have days where I need someone. Because my brain is questioning everything and everyone. My brain goes into overdrive and suddenly I’m terrified we’re going to get a nuclear attack or I am gonna have like this… massive stroke! I have this severe anxiety and then come to the panic attacks. I have chronic. pain. I am not going to get better, it just a fact. And I hate that! I hate that so fucking much but it’s my life! I deal with it. I do what I can, but I will be damned if I drag someone I love into my personal hell, Christopher. You don’t need someone like me. You deserve a lot bet-”

“No, I don’t, Y/N because you’re mine. You are my woman. I love you, dammit! More than I ever thought I possibly could. I want to be here, there, anywhere you have to go! I want to be at your side. To help you through the pain, cheer you on as you continue getting your therapies. Baby, I don’t need anyone else. I don’t know how to convince you, darling… how can I get you to believe in me! Believe in the truth! There’s no one else I need or want. You’re my one, baby. You must know that, or at least feel that.” You shook your head, though, looking down at the blue tips of your hands, angry with Chris’s words. 

Standing up I went to walk away but halted, feeling that gnawing off my anger bubbling up in my stomach for some reason, this time I didn’t suppress it, I took it in and embraced that anger, letting it flood the room with my poisonous tone. Even Chris jumped when he heard my roar.

“WHY DO YOU WANT SOMEONE WHO CAN’T BE WHAT YOU WANT? WHY? YOU COULD HAVE HAD THE HOTTEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD, I DON’T GET IT, CHRISTOPHER!” 

Tears streamed like rivers down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less, you felt broken and wanted help. You hurt and wanted to be cared for. You were exhausted to the point of just passing out on the floor. You wouldn’t even mind if that happened, though. It’d help in forgetting that this fight ever occurred.

Chris decided to come back at me one final time. Throwing his emotional pain into his words, finally letting me see an emotion I rarely saw in Chris; desperation.

“WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND I’M IN LOVE YOU! THAT’S IT. YOU ARE THE ONE I WANT, FOREVER!”

When he stopped. It was like his final words did it for me, things clicked and I saw behind those blue eyes that he was telling the cold, hard, truth. He was leaving me, he wanted to be with me… and though those words didn’t make sense in my mind now, I felt comforted in a weird way, like I was actually… loved, by someone.

 We didn’t speak. we just let our bodies talk to us. 

Maybe it was the pain that finally got to her, letting her emotional barricade be broken down, allowing Chris to come over to her side of this violent, kitchen war. My legs were shaking and he could tell I was in immense pain from standing so long. Quickly he swept me up from the floor and into his arms. I relaxed into his chest while my arms hung around Chris’s neck.

He pecked my forehead steadily as he reached our bedroom, laying me down on the comforter while he searched for a blanket to cover me. I felt my eyes getting droopier and droopier by the second. Like they always say, you never know when you slip into sleep, it just comes over you and takes you in. I gladly let sleep take away me in, dissipating the pounding headache and throbbing limbs I was suffering with. I knew when  I woke up, he’d be right by my side. Things would be different, though, he’d know what’s happening, he’d be different when he talks about going out and doing active things. 

  Chris would take a while to mildly understand what my chronic pain felt like, but I would gladly wait with him as he learned from watching. He was a guardian for me, I guess. I could hold my own if I wanted too. But sometimes, you just want to be loved and taken care of.  

                                                          Chris

Looking at her, I studied her silently. She looked so… defeated. Defeated by her own body, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than getting fucked over by myself. Never being able to stop it. She closed her eyes slowly and let out a sigh of relief. From what? I don’t know. I silently padded around the bedroom, grabbing her two blankets and a glass of water in case she had a headache in the morning. Which normally was the case. Crawling onto the other half of the bed, I just… watched. I watched over her, feeling like I was protecting her from something. Maybe whatever I was protecting her from was all made up in my head, but frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. 


This was my woman, and I was going to care for her. Every moment, of every day. Because she deserved this.

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anonymous asked:

Ok I came up with the most horrible, angsty shit ever. What if Ardyn kidnapped the chocobros' /child?/ I've seen this scenario with the S/O being the on kidnapped but never their kid! (And of course they're all babies because let'S MAKE IT EVEN WORSE)

HAHAHAHA OMG THE ANGST POTENTIAL IN THIS REQUEST IS PEAKING! Hmm, let’s see how heart-wrenching I can make this for you, my dearest anon <3 I purposefully made Noctis and Prompto’s drabbles longer than Gladio and Ignis’ because I realised that I am really not doing justice to Noct and Prompto in my request fills- they always get such short fills! So this time I decided to make Gladio’s and Ignis’ fills short and sweet and mostly head-canon like xD Also, this is SOOO AU hahahaha- please, just bear with me- I had a vision for all these drabbles and so this is how they turned out LMAO!


Noctis: You had been strangely silent since you found your daughter’s cot empty a few nights ago. You’d been getting ready for bed when you’d decided to check in on your precious princess when you realised that the nursery window was open, with the blue curtains fluttering softly in the light breeze. You remembered screaming loudly, so damn loud that you almost couldn’t hear yourself, and you remembered Noctis nudging you aside gently to pick up the small, seemingly insignificant piece of paper that had been left on the floor of the nursery just before the cot.

Noctis frowned as he read the small piece of paper, recognising the loopy handwriting almost immediately: I have your daughter. I also have your Crystal. Pick the one you want, and you shall receive it.

Noctis seethed at the simple ransom letter and crumpled it up in his gloved hand. You looked at Noctis impassively and blinked slowly. You were still in shock. The chancellor had taken your baby. And now he was asking Noctis to decide between his daughter and his kingdom. Rationally, you knew that the kingdom was of more value superficially… but your daughter. Your daughter was priceless.

“What are we going to do?” you asked quietly, your gaze downcast. You heard Noctis sigh softly.

We aren’t going to do anything. I, on the other hand, will go get our daughter back from that ass hole.” Noctis growled, his husky voice sounding absolutely livid. You stood from where you were seated in an old wooden chair, ignoring the concerned gazes of Ignis, Gladio and Prompto as you took your place beside Noctis and wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I want to help too. She’s my daughter as well.”

Noctis shook his head. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know. Let me help.”

Noctis had ended up relenting and you found yourself standing before Ardyn a few hours later, his charming face grinning down at you with your daughter secured in the crook of his arms. She was silent, not crying out for you, not wriggling, not giggling… she was just still and silent. You clenched your fists and took a step forward, only to be stopped by Gladio and Prompto. Noctis paced forward in your stead and glared daggers at Ardyn with his midnight blue eyes.

“Hand her over. Now.”

Ardyn smirked. “I’m not sure you’d want her back. You see, she’s already become my little pet project.” Ardyn stroked your daughter’s cheek with his thumb and you tried to lunge forward, your expression absolutely livid. Ardyn laughed at your attempts to attack him, thwarted by your allies. Prompto and Gladio exchanged worried looks over your struggling form between the two of them, while Ignis placed a hand over your trembling shoulder to calm you down.

“I’ll fucking kill you Ardyn. You touched my baby, you filthy man… I will destroy you.” You gritted out, ceasing your struggles when you realised that Gladio and Prompto were not going to let up their hold on you. You slumped forward and let your tears fall as Noctis let out a frustrated noise.

Ardyn laughed and turned on his heel, taking your baby further into Zegnautus Keep. “The Crystal still awaits you. Come now- all is not lost. Just… the girl.” Ardyn chuckled and disappeared behind reinforced steel doors.

You could only sob as reality hit you. Your baby was gone. And Noctis couldn’t do a thing about it. You let your eyes travel to Noctis’ form, and you witnessed his shoulders tremble as he held in his grief. He let out a shaky sigh and clenched his fists by his sides.

“I’ll fix this. I promise… I’m ready to fix ALL of this.”


Prompto: Prompto’s bottom lip trembled as he watched Ardyn tickle his son playfully. You teared up at the innocent look of delight on your son’s face at the gesture. You and Prompto were trapped in a cell in Zegnautus Keep, with only a monitor placed in front of the two of you to monitor the heart breaking interaction your infant son was having with the monster.

“He’s such a good boy. I’m glad I didn’t just leave him to the MTs. He would have been devoured alive by those beasts.” Ardyn cooed, stroking your baby’s cheeks. Prompto let out a soft sob, but kept his red-rimmed sky blue eyes on the screen. He was tied up, absolutely restrained, and unable to immediately help his precious baby boy, but he could still observe him. He owed his son that much.

You averted your gaze when you saw the sweet smile on your boy’s face. You couldn’t watch any more. It was too twisted. Too heart breaking. What had you done to deserve such a hellish punishment? Why did this have to happen to your perfect little happy family? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything about it?

“It’s because we’re common folk… isn’t it?” you murmured quietly to yourself. You didn’t notice the smirk that became apparent on Ardyn’s face as he continued to torturously act sweet before your son. Your baby sunshine giggled and cooed at Ardyn’s attentions as you lamented in your situation. Prompto’s head perked up at your words, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s not it… Noct’s probably on this way-”

“No,” you interjected. “Noct is looking for the Crystal. For his kingdom. He’s the King. He’s got bigger things to think about that us. What are we to him?” You asked, your voice suddenly bitter. Prompto’s first tear escaped his eyes as he bit his lip hard and shook his head.

“No. You’re stressed out right now. That’s why you’re thinking like this. You just want to get back to junior and have him in your arms. I want that too- we can’t be blaming Noct- he’s our best friend-”

“He’s YOUR best friend. And what are me and our son to him? Just tag along people. Sure, you’re valuable to Noctis. But us… who the hell are we and what have we done for him?”

You stopped speaking when Ardyn’s loud chuckle split through the still-thickening tension in the cell you and Prompto were housed in. “Dearest… you are so easy to crack. This is no fun. Prompto’s proving a bit of a challenge, and that’s fun. But you, y/n… for a mother, you are terribly weak. That’s not good for your son here… who knows what kinds of people you’d let near him if you can’t be strong.”

You tugged on your bonds and roared out loudly at his words. “You are SICK! You are the DEVIL! You are Ifrit incarnate and I HATE you! Give our son back! Give me my world back- do what you want to me, but don’t you DARE hurt my baby!”

Ardyn smirked at your reaction and trailed a nail down your son’s neck, earning a slightly whimper from the now confused child, a look of distress clearly on his face. You now heard Prompto struggle against his bonds at the sight of your boy’s suffering displayed on the large screen before you.

“No! Not my son! Kill me if you want- don’t hurt my son please!”

“Promise me you’ll lead Noctis right to the Crystal, and I will spare your boy.” Ardyn drawled, retracting his finger from the infant’s neck and returning to tickling the boy’s chubby belly. A sense of relief washed over you as your blond son’s face immediately morphed from distressed to delighted in a matter of moments.

Innocence… such a beautiful gift.

“… deal.” Prompto agreed. You nodded along, feeling a slight sense of shame blossom in your chest at so easily selling out your friend, the prince.

But then you realised that Noctis was looking for the Crystal. Leading Noctis to the Crystal was supposed to be a good thing.

You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows at the screen suddenly went black and Noctis himself snuck into your cell, sighing a breath of relief. “Thank the Six. Are you guys alright?” Your heart broke a little when Noctis made a beeline for you first, gazing down at you with so much concern in his midnight blue eyes. You tore your own gaze away from his face, unable to look at him after all the things you said about him and his loyalty to you, your son and Prompto earlier on.

Noctis clearly cared about you as much as he cared about Prompto.

“Were you worried about me?” you heard Prompto ask sheepishly.

“All three of you. I was worried sick about all three of you. Is that even a question? Did you even have to ask? Prom…y/n… of course I was worried. You guys are like my family. You ARE my family.”

You lost it at that statement. You bawled, guilt eating at your insides. You wanted to warn Noctis of Ardyn’s specific instructions to lead him to the Crystal. It was definitely fishy- but you also wanted your son back unharmed.

You didn’t tell Noctis a word.

Nor did Prompto.

You both could only hope that nothing bad would happen to Noctis. After all, how much could a magical rock really do to a person?

Surely… it wasn’t capable of anything too far-fetched…


Gladio: When Gladio finds out that his baby is missing, he absolutely loses it. He’s the type to flip tables, punch walls and roar at anyone who tells him to calm down and just THINK about the whole situation. Usually, it’s Ignis who is the one to calm the big guy down and talk some sense to him, but in this situation, when his one and only baby girl is involved, Gladio is almost inconsolable. Gladio is decked out in his battle gear and ready to have a good swing at Ardyn for kidnapping both yours and his baby, but you manage to stop him from marching into battle essentially unprepared.

“What if he has back up? You can’t just go in alone!” At first, Gladio lashes out at you and accuses you of not caring about your baby girl, but when he sees your eyes well up in tears from the accusation, he simmers down a little. He takes you in his arms and he chokes down sobs of his own as he tries to calm you down as well.

“I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. I’m worried and mad that I couldn’t stop this from happening-”

“Gladdy… it’s okay. We can get her back. For sure… there has to be a way to get her back!” you try to make things better for Gladio. His amber eyes do perk up slightly, but only by a little bit.

When you watch him leave for Zegnautus Keep to aid Noctis in reclaiming the Crystal, as well as recovering your daughter, you are sorry that you can’t join the group. You desperately want to go. But then you rub your hand over you swollen belly and sigh worriedly.

You were pregnant with your second child. It wouldn’t be safe for you to leave the safety of your Lestallum apartment. Not in your condition. And so you prayed to the Six, hoping that all would go well for Gladio and the boys.

You were hoping that your new baby would be able to meet their big sister.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let a sole tear slip out you eye.

“I just want to be a normal family… that’s all I want.”


Ignis: You and Ignis are sitting at the dining table in the Cape Caem cottage, simply staring at the wooden surface with impassive looks on your faces. It’s been a few days since your infant son had been kidnapped and you weren’t quite sure where to start looking. Gladio and Prompto were already out following up on some leads they had come across in Lestallum two nights ago when the official search for the nine month old had begun.

“It was Ardyn. That’s all we know.” You sighed and slid the only piece of evidence you had of the kidnapping towards your long-time boyfriend, Ignis Scientia. Ignis immediately leaned forward and extended his arm to grab the paper with his fingers. Sliding it towards himself, he frowned and his eyebrows pinched together in concentration as he read the note once more.

I’ll hold on to this precious gift until you send me mine.” Ignis read out loud once more, his clipped and accented voice absolutely filled with disbelief. “I can’t say I know what he’s referring to…” Ignis trailed off. You sighed and nodded, crossing your arms over your torso and staring down at the table once more.

You were trying your best to stay level headed, much like Ignis. It was getting harder to do so with every passing moment. Every moment lost was a moment wasted for you son at the hands of the potentially manipulative and unethical man. Ardyn Izunia was certainly a very unsavoury character.

“Hey… any more leads yet?” your head whipped towards where the prince’s voice was sounding from behind one of the bedroom doors upstairs. Ignis hummed a negative in response to his prince’s questioning. At that, Noctis pulled the door open and shut it behind him, skipping down the steps with urgency before taking a seat beside you and leaning in for a short and sweet hug.

Until he’d hugged you, you hadn’t realised that you needed it.

“No Noct. Just that it’s Ardyn and that he has our baby.”

Noctis nodded at Ignis’s words. “That… I’m so sorry, Iggy… y/n.”

“It’s not your fault…” you trailed off, your voice weak. Noctis was about to say something to retort, when Ignis’ phone went off. Ignis immediately dived for his phone and answered the call, slapping his smart phone to his ear in his haste.

“Yes?” Ignis answered, his brows knitted. He nodded and made a face before nodding again and humming an affirmative. He hung up soon after and made direction eye-contact with you with his deep sea-foam coloured eyes. “He wants Noct in exchange for the baby…” Ignis sounded conflicted. You were almost in disbelief until you realised that Ignis had been raised beside Noctis to look after him. You and the baby were the complications to his already pre-planned and set out life.

You were the complication.

You were the problem.

You shuddered, grabbing the attentions of both the prince and the advisor. “Yeah?” Noctis said, addressing your reactions. You shook your head at the prince and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing… just. I’m sorry for all this trouble.” You apologised quickly, bowing slightly to show your respect to Noctis. Noctis waved you off and shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s no problem- you, the guys, and the baby are all I ever knew as a real family. Of course I need to get you and your son back together.” Noctis smiled kindly. You smiled back in turn before turning a sombre expression towards Ignis.

You almost felt worry for Ardyn when you spied Ignis sharpening his good set of poison daggers.

Ardyn was not in for a good time.