Thank You @qualidyke

being in a public restroom and hearing someone shitting really loud

Blurbs

Fantasy/Supernatural Blurbs

You’re a mermaid?

Shawn is an angel…literally?

Want // Werewolf Shawn*

Petting | Werewolf Shawn

Late Night | Werewolf Shawn

Challenge | Werewolf Shawn

Mine | Werewolf Shawn/Hybrid Wolf Reader

General AU

MMA Trainer Shawn

Bunks Bestfriend!Shawn

Just As Sweet // coffee shop AU

Missed You // College!Shawn

You and Shawn have a baby

Hot Cop!Shawn

Hockey!Shawn (badboy)

Little Bee

If I Had You | BFF!Shawn

Want | Friend AU

Feels Like Love | Badboy/BFF AU

Non AU (Real Life Shawn)

Cuddling

Shawn wants you to move in with him

Cake

Shawn locks himself out late at night

Protective Shawn

Lazy Day

The one where Shawn /really/ likes your new heels

Drunk kissin’

Under the table

Sweet Tooth

My Everything

Will you…

Down (plus size reader x shawn)

Shawn’s Favorite Thing

Hallo-weenie (you and Shawn go to a haunted house)

Nightmares

Sleepy

Aquarium Date

Bath

Backstage

Sick

You’ve Ruined Me

I Never Stopped Loving You (Jealous Shawn)

Perspective

Grounding 

Soft Love // plus size/curvy reader

Sick And Tired // Tour Shawn

“One Liner Blurbs”

“She’s hiding behind the couch.”

“Look at my tan. Shawn your skin is red, that’s a burn.”

You had one job…

“I thought I lost you”

“You want me to do WHAT?”

“dude, you’re whipped”

“Do I have to?”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!?”

“I’ll put that tongue to good use if you don’t stop sticking it out”

“I’m telling you I’m haunted”

“Run for it!”

“I need a place to stay”

“You work for me.”

One Call Away

100 Reasons NOT To Kill Yourself

1. We would miss you. 2. It’s not worth the regret. Either by yourself if you failed or just simply left scars, or the regret everyone else feels by not doing enough to help you. 3. It does get better. Believe it or not it will eventually get better. Sometimes you have to go through the storm to get to the rainbow. 4. There’s so much you would miss out on doing. 5. There is always a reason to live. It might not be clear right now, but it is always there. 6. So many people care, and it would hurt them if you hurt yourself. 7. You ARE worth it. Don’t let anyone, especially yourself, tell you otherwise. 8. You are amazing. 9. A time will come, once you’ve battled the toughest times of your life and are in ease once again, where you will be so glad that you decided to keep on living. You will emerge stronger from this all, and won’t regret your choice to carry on with life. Because things always get better. 10. What about all the things you’ve always wanted to do? What about the things you’ve planned, but never got around to doing? You can’t do them when you’re dead. 11. I love you. Even if only one person loves you, that’s still a reason to stay alive. 12. You won’t be able to listen to music if you die. 13. Killing yourself is never worth it. You’ll hurt both yourself and all the people you care about. 14. There are so many people that would miss you, including me. 15. You’re preventing a future generation, YOUR KIDS, from even being born. 16. How do you think your family would feel? Would it improve their lives if you died? 17. You’re gorgeous, amazing, and to someone you are perfect. 18. Think about your favourite music artist, you’ll never hear their voice again… 19. You’ll never have the feeling of walking into a warm building on a cold day 20. Listening to incredibly loud music 21. Being alive is just really good. 22. Not being alive is really bad. 23. Finding your soulmate. 24. Red pandas 25. Going to diners at three in the morning. 26. Really soft pillows. 27. Eating pizza in New York City. 28. Proving people wrong with your success. 29. Watching the jerks that doubted you fail at life. 30. Seeing someone trip over a garbage can. 31. Being able to help other people. 32. Bonfires. 33. Sitting on rooftops. 34. Seeing every single country in the world. 35. Going on roadtrips. 36. You might win the lottery someday. 37. Listening to music on a record player. 38. Going to the top of the Eiffel Tower. 39. Taking really cool pictures. 40. Literally meeting thousands of new people. 41. Hearing crazy stories. 42. Telling crazy stories. 43. Eating ice cream on a hot day. 44. More Harry Potter books could come out, you never know. 45. Travelling to another planet someday. 46. Having an underwater house. 47. Randomly running into your hero on the street. 48. Having your own room at a fancy hotel. 49. Trampolines. 50. Think about your favourite movie, you’ll never watch it again. 51. Think about the feeling of laughing out loud in a public place because your best friend has just sent you an inside joke, 52. Your survival will make the world better, even if it’s for just one person or 20 or 100 or more. 53. People do care. 54. Treehouses 55. Hanging out with your soul mate in a treehouse 55. Snorting when you laugh and not caring who sees 56. I don’t even know you and I love you. 57. I don’t even know you and I care about you. 58. Because nobody is going to be like you ever, so embrace your uniqueness! 59. You won’t be here to experience the first cat world emperor. 60. WHAT ABOUT FOOD?! YOU’LL MISS CHOCOLATE AND ALL THE OTHER NOM THINGS! 61. Starbucks. 62. Hugs. 63. Stargazing. 64. You have a purpose, and it’s up to you to find out what it is. 65. You’ve changed somebody’s life. 66. Now you could change the world. 67. You will meet the person that’s perfect for you. 68. No matter how much or how little, you have your life ahead of you. 69. You have the chance to save somebody’s life. 70. If you end your life, you’re stopping yourself from achieving great things. 71. Making snow angels. 72. Making snowmen. 73. Snowball fights. 74. Life is what you make of it. 75. Everybody has a talent. 76. Laughing until you cry. 77. Having the ability to be sad means you have the ability to be happy. 78. The world would not be the same if you didn’t exist. 79. Its possible to turn frowns, upside down 80. Be yourself, don’t take anyone’s shit, and never let them take you alive. 81. Heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary. Be your own hero. 82. Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means that you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections. 83. One day your smile will be real. 84. Having a really hot, relaxing bath after a stressful day. 85. Lying on grass and laughing at the clouds. 86. Getting completely smashed with your best friends. 87. Eating crazy food. 88. Staying up all night watching your favourite films with a loved one. 89. Sleeping in all day. 90. Creating something you’re proud of. 91. You can look back on yourself 70 years later and being proud you didn’t commit 92. Being able to meet your Internet friends. 93. Tea / Coffee / Hot Chocolate 94. Sherlock season three. 95. Cuddling under the stars. 96. Being stupid in public because you just can. 97. If you are reading this then you are alive! Is there any more reason to smile? 98. being able to hug that one person you havent seen in years 99. People care enough about you and your future to come up with 100 reasons for you not to do this. 100. But, the final and most important one is, just, being able to experience life. Because even if your life doesn’t seem so great right now, literally anything could happen

IF that isn’t enough:

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696 Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433 LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255 Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386 Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743 Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438 Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673 Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272 Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000 Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253 Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453 UK Helplines: Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail jo@samaritans.org Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111 Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: info@mind.org.uk Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 legal@mind.org.uk b-eat eating disorder support: 0845 634 14 14 (only open Mon-Fri 10.30am-8.30pm and Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) e-mail: help@b-eat.co.uk b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: helpline@cruse.org.uk Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600 Drinkline: 0800 9178282 Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 - 2.30pm 7 - 9.30pm) e-mail info@rapecrisis.org.uk Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight India Self Harm Hotline: 00 08001006614 India Suicide Helpline: 022-27546669 Kids Help Phone (Canada): 1-800-668-6868, Free and available 24/7 suicide hotlines; Argentina: 54-0223-493-0430 Australia: 13-11-14 Austria: 01-713-3374 Barbados: 429-9999 Belgium: 106 Botswana: 391-1270 Brazil: 21-233-9191 China: 852-2382-0000 (Hong Kong: 2389-2222) Costa Rica: 606-253-5439 Croatia: 01-4833-888 Cyprus: 357-77-77-72-67 Czech Republic: 222-580-697, 476-701-908 Denmark: 70-201-201 Egypt: 762-1602 Estonia: 6-558-088 Finland: 040-5032199 France: 01-45-39-4000 Germany: 0800-181-0721 Greece: 1018 Guatemala: 502-234-1239 Holland: 0900-0767 Honduras: 504-237-3623 Hungary: 06-80-820-111 Iceland: 44-0-8457-90-90-90 Ireland: 1800-247-100 Israel: 09-8892333 Italy: 06-705-4444 Japan: 3-5286-9090 Latvia: 6722-2922, 2772-2292 Malaysia: 03-756-8144 (Singapore: 1-800-221-4444) Mexico: 525-510-2550 Netherlands: 0900-0767 New Zealand: 4-473-9739 New Guinea: 675-326-0011 Nicaragua: 505-268-6171 Norway: 47-815-33-300 Philippines: 02-896-9191 Poland: 52-70-000 Portugal: 239-72-10-10 Russia: 8-20-222-82-10 Serbia: 21-6623-393 Spain: 91-459-00-50 South Africa: 0861-322-322 South Korea: 2-715-8600 Sweden: 031-711-2400 Switzerland: 143 Taiwan: 0800-788-995 Thailand: 02-249-9977 Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800 Ukraine: 0487-327715 Uruguay: 095 73 8483 You will be missing out on every single wonderful thing yet to happen to you.

Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend

Let me know what you think, thanks!

i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL

love you 3000!

Signed Up For This

Word count: 1,143

As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. 

But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you. 

It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.

Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers? 

But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”

“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”

“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”

“I’m not meddling,” he said. 

You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.” 

“The politics don’t—”

“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”

“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said. 

“Her assistant? Mel?” 

“Yes. She’s on the fence.” 

“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”

He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile. 

“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied. 

“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”

“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.” 

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered. 

“Always.”

And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”

You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood. 

You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”

“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”

“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory. 

Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” came from all four of them. 

“He’s married?” the brunette asked. 

“In the process,” I corrected. 

“How did that happen?” Walker muttered. 

“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.

You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?” 

“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”

“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.” 

“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.” 

As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you. 

“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said. 

“Someone really does have a soft spot.”

“Isn’t that cute."

And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.

opening the door triggers the boss fight

IM GETTING A CAT IM GETTING A CAT IM GETTING A CAT!!!!!!!!

a/n: sorry there’s so much drama in this one LOL im nothing if not a sucker for nightmare tropes

-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated!

-want to leave a tip? heres my kofi!

The Accused | Simon Riley/Reader

3.

As the morning sun rose and shone through the splintered gaps of the boarded up window, you realized how exactly Ghost got his name.

You weren't sure when he'd arrived, but he was certainly your sight for sore eyes, rising from your fitful slumber. His back faces you, the light dances over the darkness of his tactical gear. For just a moment, you allow yourself to take it in. The birds outside offer a lovely soundtrack. His chair creaks underneath him while his weight shifts.

"Mornin'." Is all he says.

It takes a couple seconds before you're able to sit upright. Your back aches something awful, and you aren't sure if you've ever felt so thirsty in your entire life. Lucky for you, it seemed your friend had brought a couple of gifts. Four water bottles and what appeared to be a few bags of jerky and an assortment of nuts. Your stomach grumbles at the thought, upset at you for not feeding it sooner.

You mumble a good morning as you rise to your feet and take the chair next to him. If not for the situation at hand, you were sure this would have been a lovely morning indeed. The situation at hand only grows worse when Ghost breaks some news.

48 hours, he'd said with a flat tone. Meeting someone out in Las Almas.

For two days you'd be alone, cramped up in this shed with nothing but the everlasting sound of nature as entertainment. To hide the disdain on your face, you grab at one of the bottles and take a long swig. It doesn't work. But it also doesn't stop him from taking his leave less than an hour later.

The rest of the day was spent in phases of isolation. The first phase, immediate boredom, came with anxiety quickly in tow. Ghost would be across the country and you were merely a few miles away from base. It was over if someone decided to stray away just as you used to do and actually found you here. Running couldn't save you forever.

Phase two was quieter. Your left side ached as the bruises began to settle deep into your bones. The birds chirped high in the sky, your tired eyes numbly watching the light cracking through the windows morph from a proud yellow to a dim orange. And, eventually, white with the moon casting through the trees.

You slept better that night- fed and hydrated, mind empty and full all at once with questions. What if's haunted you deep in your core.

By day two you were starting to feel better, but the air around you felt heavier than before. Moist, almost. The shed was dim. When you peeked outside, tentative and afraid that even poking your head out the door would render your life over, you realized that dark clouds had rolled over the sky and parked right on above. Wind blew through the leaves and you could practically smell the impending storm brewing.

When it began to rain, late into the evening, it was nothing too serious. Light pattering on the thin roof, a couple drops slipping through gaps in the shingles and puddling on the floor.

When the thunder cracked over the sky it almost sounded like a bomb. You jumped in your seat so hard you almost fell off, scampering to the window and peeking through the tiny cracks. The wind had grown menacing, tearing through the branches and launching leaves to the grass. Just as before, the sky remained just as baleful as it had been that afternoon.

Eventually, the rain began to come down like it was hail. It beat the roof ruthlessly, more and more water gathering on the floor as it forced its way through the ramshackle shed. You tucked yourself up on the chair, bringing your knees to your chest, trying to have faith in your little shack to keep you safe. There was nowhere else to go- this was it. With no blanket, you were reduced to a shivering mess, listening to the deafening chants of the falling rain.

But, even through it, you could still make out something else.

A great clap of thunder. The unmistakable sound of craning wood. And then an ear-splitting crash. You'd barely even managed to hop from your chair in time.

You felt the wind on your skin before you felt anything else.

And then, water. Lots of it- soaking you almost instantaneously. Pieces of wood and metal lay at your feet, surrounding you, your mind struggling to grasp what the hell was going on. Roaring gusts of wind echoed in your ears.

Standing there, your eyes finally adjusted through the murky darkness just enough to see leaves and branches bent at all angles before you. A great tree lays horizontal through the shed, mere feet away from where you stood. Moon poured in through the gaping maw of what used to be the roof.

The chairs you and Ghost once shared lay shattered to bits under its mammoth weight.

The tree welcomed the entire night into your little safe haven. Angry outbursts of winds, the relentless rain showering every inch of your body. In an attempt to protect yourself, you crushed yourself up into a corner of the shed, the only part of it with a chunk of roof remaining semi-intact. It bowed down, barely held up by the wooden posts, but it dipped just enough where the water ran down it and pooled at your feet.

Tears bite at your eyes, and you let them. They fall in heavy streaks.

And your chest heaved, your hands shook. The storm swallowed your cries, hungry and angry and ripping away any last remaining shred of normalcy you had. Everything around you seemed to be riddled with fractures just waiting to shatter. You grieved the life you had merely three days ago- spent more on the upside than down and wasting your in-between hours alongside Ghost.

Ghost. Beautiful, enigmatic, scary Ghost. With all of those rough edges and those forlorn eyes. He haunts your mind as you fold into yourself, but your limbs offer little cover to the elements. Your head hurts, your body aches something deep and awful. Your skin burns at the cocktail assaulting you- equal parts the pelting rain and the whipping of the wind pitching shards of wood and glass at your weak frame.

A part of you wonders if this would be your demise. If, out of all the wrong cursing your life, this would be your downfall. Cramped in the corner of a shed attempting to outlive mother nature like some pitiful stray thing. Your protective grip on yourself tightens. The nightmare doesn't end.

And the storm rages longer than you can stay awake for.

You remain where you sit even in your dreams. The world is all underwater garbles, the branches of the fallen tree try to reach out and grasp at your shaking body. It's almost like being in a bubble- feeling so full an empty all at once. Hearing the raging storm but it's booming voice just can't seem to fully reach you. But, you swear you hear something else.

You swear, with your face tucked into your knees, you can hear your voice rising above the thunder and the whirlwind.

And then it's like you can feel hands on your skin. Gloved, but warm. Something soft and fuzzy tucked wrapped around you. Those hands pull your arms off your cut-up legs and then you're weightless. It reminds you of your fall. Weightless, hung by your hand. Your eyes screw shut and you're torn from your spot like a ragdoll. Clearly, your soul must be leaving your body.

"-Up."

That faraway voice reaches you. It tears through the veil.

"-Hear m-"

You blink. Everything suddenly rushes in- real. The lamenting winds, the torrent of rain, the creaking of wood and the whipping of leaves on shaking branches.

The softness of a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Then, it all stops when you lock eyes with those familiar, melancholic blues. He's shrouded in black, the edges of his form painted in the most beautiful of blues, droplets gathered on his gear reflecting in what little light the moon could creep through those rich clouds. He touches your face. He holds your face. And then he's picking you up like you're broken and you try to remember the last time you've been treated with some fragility. You try to think back to a time when you'd been treated with such care.

"Ghost." You murmur, your own voice the loudest thing reaching your ears.

"Me." He says, and it draws tears of relief to your already wet eyes. You sink into his large arms, allow him to duck out of what remained of the shed. Allow him to pull you to his chest so tightly it's almost too much of him. Almost.

But it never gets to the point. You press your head against him and swear you can hear his heartbeat thrashing in his ribcage, restless. For the first time that night, you felt safe. Utterly safe in his hold. If your body could say thank you, it would have.

The relief knocks you out a moment later.

----------

It's warm when you stir awake. Quiet.

Soft.

When your eyes open, met with a burst of yellow light, you struggle to grasp where you were. Your elbows try to prop you up, but they sink into something plush.

It takes a few moments to realize you're a sopping-wet mess laying atop a couch. Your clothes stuck you grossly, but the cushions you lap upon make it hard to feel uncomfortable. You almost wondered if this was the dream. If you were going to wake any moment in a jump to defend yourself or run, scamper into the stormy night and earn one more day on earth.

But then you see a window with tightly shut blinds. You see a coffee table with coasters, a tiny TV mounted on a wooden entertainment center. An air conditioner pokes out of the wall and it strikes you how similar it is to your flat back at the base.

Like instinct, you glance to your right, and sure enough, you're met with a kitchen you recognize so eerily you have to pinch yourself. A half wall divides the two rooms, the stove visible with the steam outpouring from a kettle.

You were back at base. You were sure of it now.

But it was as if your flat never had the loving touch of personal taste. No photos, no decor. Void of anything to suggest a person with a life worth living inhabited it. It felt hauntingly empty. The same blanket you'd had tucked against you lay a crumpled pile atop the armrest. Your eyes linger on it longer than they should, mind still half empty with sleep and confusion.

You reach out, and you draw your fingers along the blissfully soft fabric of the blanket. It reminds you of your own blankets, and the saddening realization that you may never get a bed of your own ever again, should you not clear your name somehow. You get lost in your thoughts, idly running your fingers along the blanket, still damp from the rain.

"Enjoyin' yourself?"

Ghost's voice pops you out of the bubble you'd slipped into. He stands there in the kitchen, his torso visible over the dividing half wall. The first thing you notice is his evening attire- a skull print etched over a his black fabric mask and a casual black t-shirt spread gaunt over his muscles. It never struck you how naked he looked without his gear on. How bare he seemed with his ruffled blonde hair and thick eyebrows on full display.

The second thing you notice is the sudden shrew scream of the kettle, forgotten on the stove. Ghost settles a pile of clothes on the table and turns to tend to the piercing sound.

For some reason, your mind remains far away. Like you're watching through a lens, not truly where you were. All your brain seemed to want to focus on was the softness of the blanket. The faint smell of amber spice lingering in the air. Your eyes travel to the outline of Ghost, particularly to the broadness of his shoulders, and to the way he moved so languidly, pouring water into a pair of mugs.

You don't even fully realize it when he's suddenly walked directly in front of you, your mind lagging. The mugs are set on the coffee table, and in two snaps of his fingers an inch away from your face, you're blinking up at him like you'd been ripped from a trance.

"You there?" He asks, and you finally offer a response.

"I'm here." You murmur, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm confused. Are we at mine?"

Ghost shakes his head. "Mine."

Your stomach drops like lead. Settles in your gut when he adds, so keep your head down. It's a struggle to digest his words when you're suddenly keenly aware that one wrong move, one wrong sound would have you surrounded. It would be over before the chase even began. Ghost senses your dismay- reads it off the lines in your face that drag your features into a sinking frown.

"No where else to bring you." He admits, settling beside you. "This'll do for now. Just got to keep your head down."

His words do so little to ease you that it actually makes you laugh. Low, pitiful chuckles. "Simon Riley harboring a fugitive. You're a changed man."

"Not changed anything. You'd do it for me." Is all he says with a huff, and you know he's telling the truth. He reaches down and grasps a mug, and he brings it to your lap.

Your hands shake as they reach out, the chill of wet clothes still biting at your bones. It's nearly comical when you take the mug into your own hands, the immediate ripples bouncing off the walls as it shook in your hold.

"Christ. Give me that." Ghost sighs, and before you're even able to respond, he's plucking the cup from your trembling fingers.

Then he's bringing it to your lips and you're so excited to finally drink something that you barely even register how close he is. How he has to shrink himself to be beside you, how gently he tips the mug back while you sip. The warmth drops to the floor of your empty stomach and relief washes over you so intensely it nearly draws tears. How emotional you’d become, the last few days pushing you to your limits. But now you have real shelter, Ghost at your side, a bit more color in your vision and of course the luxury of warm tea.

You're so eager to get it down that droplets gather and fall from the corners of your lips. They dribble down your chin and you pull away with a grimace, swiping at your skin.

" 'Sposed to drink it." Ghost says, and it leaves him so sweetly.

You match the smile you swore you'd heard in his words. When Ghost brings the cup back up to your lips, much less tentative this time around, you can't help but subconsciously reach up to paw at this wrist. The dull ache of an empty stomach ebbs away as you empty the cup, and finally, your sore muscles relax into jelly.

"There you go." Ghost's voice, low and observant. Something in the tone makes you squirm under your skin, and you're met with the reality of being disappointed when he pulls away and sets the cup aside.

It makes you all too aware of the heat over your face, and you lower your head to escape his gaze. A quiet thanks leaves your lips.

"Clothes are on the table, no chance they'll fit you though. Better than being soaked." Ghost's large hands clap over your knee before he stands up. "Washrooms on the left."

When he leaves the room, and you start feeling that gnawing sense of isolation, you finally take to standing and wander into the bathroom. Its white light on even whiter walls blind you for a moment. When your eyes adjust, you're met with eyebags and wet, messy hair. Cut up arms and shaking hands. You look like you've aged 10 years. Your wet clothes plop down in piles as you shed them, layer by layer.

It felt strange to be in Ghost's house. Even more, it felt strange to be naked in Ghost's house. Quickly you unfold the clothes he'd provided, and then proceed to gawk.

Ghost hadn't been kidding. They did not fit. Just the t-shirt alone engulfed you. Somehow you managed to secure the sweatpants around your waist after finagling the drawstrings into a belt. Your legs swam in the fabric pooled around your feet. Haphazardly you roll them into cuffs.

Ghost, again, wasn't kidding. Shucked of your wet clothes, blanketed by his, you were already feeling better. The world felt a little less shattered around you. You hang your old clothes over the shower rod in the hope’s they’d be dry by morning.

When you leave the bathroom and saunter back to his kitchen, you find him there leaning against the table in wait. For a brief moment, he doesn't see you enter. And for that brief moment, your eyes plant on the sliver of skin visible between the gap of where his t-shirt ended, and his mask began. His gaze flicks over to yours and you meet it.

"Better?" He asks.

"A lot better." You say with a relieved sigh. You fidget with the hem of your shirt, eyes downcast, thinking the night over. "Goodbye hangout spot."

"Hangout spot? Are we fifteen?" Ghost scoffs, laughing lowly under his breath. He motions for you to follow and you're led into a modest bedroom.

"Come on, it was like a hangout spot. And now it's gone." Your voice falls at the end, and doesn't go unnoticed by his listening ears. He watches you through the corners of his eyes. "Was one of my favorites, too."

"We'll find another." He offers.

You shrug. "It won't be the same."

Ghost sighs and wanders to the side of the bed, and only then do you notice the blankets laid out on the floor.

"We'll make it the same. Come on, you need some sleep."

When he pulls the blanket from the mattress back in invitation, you frown. Even more so when he begins to kneel on the blankets mounted on the floor.

"I'm not sleeping in your bed. I'll take the floor." You deadpan. He shakes his head.

"Absolutely not."

"Man, come on. Let me."

"Not a chance." He settles over the blankets, laying flat on his back. You crawl onto the bed to peek over the edge down at him.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

Those blues peer up at you from the floor. They roll, his voice a grunt. "Shut it. When's the last time you got real sleep?"

You scoff. "You're gonna' talk to me about getting real sleep? I could ask you the same question."

Ghost laughs deep in his chest. A sound you rarely get the joy of hearing. But then he rolls over, back facing you, and you feel him shut the argument down in one fell swoop. Your combative perspective dies somewhere in the back of your brain, and suddenly your new focus is just how plush Ghost's bed is. It sucks you in, it feels. Practically reaches up with and tugs you down against it. You sprawl out, your muscles crying out in relief.

The scent of him surrounding you is intoxicating. As is the deep, soft breaths you hear from the floor. Your head suddenly becomes too heavy to lift.

"You know what," You mumble with half-lidded eyes. "I think I am gonna' take the bed."

Whether Ghost answers or not, you're unsure, asleep nearly the same second the last syllable left your lips. A heavy dream cloaks the forefront of your mind.

And it paints such awful pictures.

Fireworks of light, clapping explosions, and the distant howls of your friend's voices echo cry into the back of your mind. All you know is that you're running, your legs struggling to heave the weight of you. Darkness nips at your heels as you flee. Hands grab at you from all angles, long twisting fingers rooted to bony knuckles.

The crashing waves of the emptiness pass you with ease and you're swallowed into nothingness. Your feet splash through it like a pitch-black puddle. Though warped, you catch your own reflection in the murky depths. You kneel down and reach out, touch at the wet surface. It rippled like water but sat on your finger thick, like honey.

It reeked of tar.

And before you knew it, staring at the black ooze, a hand crashes through the surface and wraps it's spindly fingers around your arm. It yanks, rips you down. You struggle to your feet with an outcry, find your footing despite the hands hold, just to see more hand breaching. Your feet sink inches into the murk. The hands claw at your ankles, and then your legs. The ground drinks you down. Your thighs, then your waist.

"Fucking hell." A voice garbles, echoing and distant. The choir of outcries beat against your eardrums.

Your eyes search, and they land on something emerging from the darkness. A creature shadowed in the darkness blossomed, its dripping teeth and glowing eyes drawing closer. The air pulls from your lungs and you choke on nothing.

The creature claps its talons over your shoulders, its grip puncturing bullet-sized holes into your flesh. You rip and tear fruitlessly. It taunts you, laughs at you. Gargles your name out fuzzy and far away. You're suffocating.

"Look at me!" It chants, shaking you ragged. "Open your eyes!"

Your mind statics and blurs around the edges. Your eyes clench shut, and then tear back open, and it's like being pulled out of the water. You suck in your first full breath. A hand presses firm to your cheek and you react with vitriol, ripping away with its touch. Fighting harder when it persists, another hand planting on your shoulder to keep you still. The image of the monster lights up in your mind, with its piercing stare and snapping jaws.

"It's me!" A voice rings in your ears from a foot away. Right there, real. It reaches into your mind and drags you out with a thrashing heart and heaving chest.

The creature melts into the familiar shape of Ghost before your eyes, and that's when you realize it's silent. Nothing but the sound of both of your heavy breaths. The color floods back.

"It's me." He says again, softer this time, edged with gruffness. He touches at your arm, the other still set firm on your other shoulder. You peer up with him through tears.

"I couldn't breathe." Is all you manage to sputter.

For a long moment, he studies you. Then he drags his touch down the length of your arm, to your shaking wrists. He pulls at your hands and gently drags you to sit before he settles beside you. He sinks the mattress down and you don't stop yourself from tilting and resting on him, too tired to fight anything anymore. Besides, you needed it. Needed to feel his presence, the sense of safety his energy alone provided.

When he doesn't immediately shift away, you wonder if he knows it too. Or, maybe he feels pity. Feels bad and isn't really sure what to do other than just... be there. Which doesn't necessarily not work. When your body goes lax against him, you can hear the deep, long breath that escapes him.

Relief.

Relief because finally you seem like you’re all together.

"I'm sorry for making you take care of me." You croak. "Fuck, this is so embarrassing."

"Enough of that. Relax." Ghost's voice is so quiet. You don't think you'd ever heard him bring his voice so low, barely even audible. You wonder if you'd scared him, somehow. Or perhaps he felt if he spoke too harsh, too loud, you’d be rocketed back into your spiraling.

The image of that monster you'd gone face to face with seeps into your thoughts. It sends a chill over the plains of your skin, reminds you how vulnerable to feel without a blanket on. As if he reads your mind, Ghost drags it up from the foot of the bed and drapes it over you. Even goes so far as to slightly tuck the edges haphazardly.

When you realize he goes without, you frown.

"Here," You say, lifting the side of the blanket and tossing it over his legs. Any minute now, you expect him to roll his eyes and return to his place back on the floor.

But, instead, he gets comfortable. He shifts, sinks into the bed just a little more. Breathes just a little deeper. Warmth blooms in your chest and rides straight up to your cheeks, masked by the darkness. You can't however, hide mask the smile that takes over your lips when his shoulders go slack. His head tips to rest on yours.

The world stops turning for a moment. Lost in his breathing, his heartbeat slowing in your ears. Somehow, you think deep in your mind, that perhaps this had made it all worth it. His hands rest in his lap, just as yours do.

Barely, just barely, you touch the back of your knuckles to his own and let your eyes fall shut. His skin vibrates against yours.

You aren't sure the exact moment you doze off into a quiet slumber, but you do, fit with heavy eyelashes and mirrored breaths.

People with Vaginas

I know a lot of people on this website are just getting their period or will be getting it soon so please share these tips that i wish I’d known when i was 14

- If you get blood on your panties, scrub it out with soap immediately before putting it in the wash to loosen the stain.

- wear your pad farther back when you are going to bed

- wear your pad farther forward if you are going to be walking around a lot

- DO NOT wear a tampon for more than 6-8 hours (wear pads to bed)

- don’t wear a tampon if you have no flow

- staying super hydrated helps with cramps

- other foods that help with cramps and soreness is bananas, kale, broccoli, pineapple, whole grains, and dark chocolate

- excess sugar can negatively effect your mood while PMSing

- use your period cramps as an excuse for being incapable of doing a task if that is the case (it is often too touchy of a topic to question further)

- Just remember that this happens to every girl and if you need pads or tampons, you can openly ask any female.

He’s come so far I’m amazed