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cherryjuiceblues · 24 days

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CONVERTED SNEAK PEEK (RUGBY!HARRY) COMING SOON! (NSFR)

“P’ppet?” It barely penetrates the thick fog of Y/N’s slumber—takes a pregnant moment for her ears to signal her brain—and then another moment for her brain to process the moniker and its mumbling speaker. They’d fallen asleep in an intimate enough of an embrace, Harry soothed when his best friend draped the weight of her body over his own in one final hug before bed. But he hadn’t let her go; hadn’t let her escape to her own side of the bed (because there was no way she was sleeping in her own hotel room after such a day) and she’d been content about it—only silently.

How else could she feel when the mass of Harry’s biceps curled around her body like they might crush her brittle bones? Could, but never would. Safe in the arms of a very capable man, his vessel broad and solid underneath the smaller outline of her own. He feels like a boat in this position, wrapping up around her and keeping her safe from the oncoming slew of harsh waves amidst the treacherous sea.

And he’s warm. So warm. A human heater, some may tease—Y/N does tease, on frequent occasion—to extract a predictable mossy eye roll. His roiling heat paired with the compression of his hold had lulled her mind to sleep almost selfishly quickly, and if she’d been any more awake she might have fought it, might have brushed the pad of her thumb across the top of Harry’s brow until she was sure he’d drifted off. Would’ve accompanied him until he’d left the sadness of his day behind. But she just couldn’t help it, and it seemed as though Harry had only encouraged the evening of her breaths and the steady thump of her heart atop his chest. If her eyes had been open then she would’ve been able to observe the calm quirk of his lips as he gazed upon the back of her head and her face nestled into the crease of his neck.

She would have been able to see the ease in which Harry’s own eyelids fluttered shut as soon as he felt content that she was asleep. And she might have felt it necessary to call him weird to quell the nervous energy thrumming inside her body. To dispel any unwise thoughts she might conjure in the fuzzy whirl of received devotion.

They’ve moved in their sleep. No surprise, really—not with the way Harry tends to fidget and Y/N can never stay comfortable. And it takes another long, bleary moment to realise that Y/N is the only one that’s awake despite the heavy breathing and the repetition of the name in her ear.

Her heart stutters inside her ribs.

She’s too hot, and the weight around her waist and cocooning her back is too… too much. It’s heavy, and nudges her in irregular motions, it yearns to fuse all the way down to her molecules. Part of her knows it’s Harry but the other part doesn’t understand what is reality and what is the doing of her slowly stirring consciousness.

He rouses behind her and Y/N’s spine stiffens at the movement, panicking that she’s been caught—but caught doing what exactly? Waking up? Breathing? Coming to the humiliating realisation that her best friend is dreaming of much nicer things and unaware that his body is betraying him? It dawns on her that the real fear is not knowing how to handle a situation like this. At least as long as Harry stays asleep she has time to figure it out; time to wriggle away fruitlessly.

It sparks something depraved in her lower belly and tingles all the way through her nervous system. They’ve fought before… wrestled (more accurately described as a game of cat and mouse with Y/N as the latter) and it’s brought a warmth to her cheeks that she’s always passed off as exertion. Easily believable with the creased state Harry leaves her clothes in alongside the kinks in her hair. But she knows it’s a lie. She knows that the fire of her skin is blazed alight by the inability to ever win against Harry. Maybe she should exercise more… take up boxing perhaps. Something to quell this desire. Or maybe she should get to the root of the issue instead of encouraging twisted fantasies with Harry—because she does—it’s muscle memory by now, to test her luck with a gentle swat to his arm that builds up to two, three, four, until Harry’s forced to wrap the expanse of his fingers around her easily incarcerated wrists.

Every time, without fail, the adrenaline gives her a high. It makes her normally, composed facade crumble away in front of her very eyes. It puts a silly grin on her face and makes her skin buzz with glee. She tries to hide it, so as to not prompt any probing questions from Harry, but she’s certain she does a god-awful job. Never has Y/N been so thankful that she is the more astute of the pair.

So there’s a part of her—a rather dominant part—that yearns to make a sick game of it. To see how quickly Harry’s instincts kick in and his arms tighten up around her. Would he pull her back into his chest? Would he squeeze her as a warning and crush her body—eliciting a panic that tells her to struggle and escape just for a second?

She knows she has to do something; can’t let him keep rutting against her backside—for his sake if nothing else. Y/N tries to imagine if it were her—ignores the depths of her mind telling her she’d love it—latches onto the humiliation and upset it would imbed deep within her brain.

And she’s about to start wriggling, twitches only the slightest bit, before Harry’s beating her to it. In the heaviness of her slumber, and the pressing realisation, Y/N hadn’t felt the mass of Harry’s bicep nestled safely in the crook of her neck. But now she does. Now it manoeuvres her with ease and travels down to meet his other arm snug around her waist. Her own personal cage—imprisoned by warm flesh and bone, tight and compressing, holding her without the intention of ever letting her get too far away.

It travels down to his other arm, rests for a moment, before the plains of a palm smooths over an unsuspecting hip. Y/N tenses ever so slightly, surprised but not panicked… not yet. She doesn’t expect curious fingertips to reach so far, to curl into the crease of her thigh and sear right through the thick of Harry’s lended joggers.

“Harry.”

He slurs something back, still asleep, “Mm, s’okay b’by.” Whether or not her voice travels through the fog of his unconscious is unknown, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s only spurred further, film reel rolling—twice as fast now—spinning out of control. “I know, jus’— good, that’s good…” The strength of his arms must compare to some sort of hydraulic press, surely capable of grinding her bones down to marrow and she’s not sure she’d want to stop him.

Prickling heat washes over her from head to toe, the latter curling against the crisp hotel sheets. “Harry… Harry, wake up,” the breath floats from her lips, void of conviction in an unfamiliar way. She’s only human and the press of a body so close to her own, for the first time in longer than she’d like to admit; it builds. Slowly at first and then it starts hurtling—snowballing down a steep cliff edge with no brakes.

What if she doesn’t wake him? What if… if Harry starts to feel her weight push back into him, encouraging him, enticing him? Or if Y/N’s fingers start to dance their way down her front, tiptoe over the mound of Harry’s forearms and dip beneath the grey sweats of his she’s adorning. The thought is too tempting and she’d never forgive herself.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rugby!harry #sneak peek #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #smut #nsfr

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 month

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Random headcanons for Ghost and Soap (and Ghostsoap) part 1

- Soap has the habit of placing his hand on the small of Ghost's back. It looks adorable because next to Ghost, everyone looks tiny and yet Soap oozes such confidence that Ghost feels small whenever he has Johnny's hand directing him by pressing into the small of his back, sometimes Johnny's thumb is rubbing little circles over his spine. He always blushes, too.

- On the other hand, Ghost has a habit of pulling Soap by the hip any time he's about to get himself in trouble. Someone says some shit, Soap turns to the side and opens his mouth and Ghost just reaches his arm across his back and with his fingers digging into the v curve of hip steering him away before he can open his big mouth and get himself in trouble. This is inspired by the Tom Holland&Zendaya photos

- Ghost is always cold, Soap is always hot. It looks absolutely comical during spring when they go out - Ghost has warm sweats and jacket and a hoodie and a hat/mask on and Soap is in shorts and a hoodie with cut-off sleeves. Gaz calls it Soap's slut behaviour

- This means Ghost is a blanket hog. They often sleep in the same bed but separately because Soap just feels too hot to cuddle up under the warmest duvet available in store which is Ghost's preferred one.

- They are decent cooks but Ghost is better at cooking and Soap is better at baking. They also have different cooking styles - Ghost cooks to relax and doesn't stress about the results and Soap takes cooking as a challenge.

- Ghost doesn't get jealous, really. He's too in control to get jealous and he's the ride or die kinda guy so he's put all of his trust into Soap and is used to Soap's overfriendly, borderline flirty personality. It's endearing to him.

- Soap, on the other hand, is a jealous beast. Recruits, other teams officers, strangers in a bar, anyone who gets Ghost's attention or tries to get Ghost's attention, Soap always struts in and stands way too close and asserts his position as soon as he notices. Ghost pretends it's annoying but he finds it cute (he's never had anyone get jealous over him).

- Soap never stops calling Ghost per sir. Not when they're on leave, not when they retire. Sometimes it happens in public and because Soap only calls him sir when he's feeling cheeky, he sounds really bratty and people make their (dirty) assumptions.

- Soap is not a fan of Valentine's Day. Ghost likes to pretend he isn't either, but in the week before the day, he'd do small romantic gifts/gestures every day.

- Soap is the 'leaves his dirty socks on the floor' kinda guy, meaning he never puts back stuff in its rightful place, has tons of dirty mugs lying around, piles of sketchbooks and books and about a dozen of pencil cases, he forgets to make the bed, doesn't fold the laundry for days after taking it out of the dryer, just leaving in the corner in the kitchen. Ghost feels tested when they move in together because he's a neat freak.

- Soap is a hairy beast. He's got dark thick hair everywhere - his chest, back, arms, the happy trail, the other happy trail that goes down his inner thighs. He'd have to shave twice a day if he had to keep a clean-shaven look.

- Ghost is not exactly hairy but also not hairless, it's just that the majority of his body hair is very pale.

- Ghost unironically likes Vimto. His favourite takeaway is Chinese and he actually likes beans on toast for breakfast and scotch eggs. He, however, can't understand how Soap can eat oats for breakfast every day.

- Ghost does, in fact, have a soft tum. Soap also has a healthy layer of fat over muscles but Ghost doesn't really have the abs shape - he's teddy bear shaped.

- Ghost feeds stray cats scraps of meat any time he cooks off base.

- Soap definitely has ADHD. He doesn't shut up and his mind is brilliant but very scattered.

#sometimes i also headcanon ghost as trans but that's a whole another post #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #q #op

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queenie-avenue · 5 months

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Can I go where you go?

—> Domestic Jumin Han Headcanons with you!

↪ SFW, slightly suggestive at times, fluff, reader is not specified to be male nor female

🦋 ⤻ archives.

— Jumin always makes an effort to cook breakfast for you, even if he has a chef. His mornings are one of the only times he gets to fully spend time with you, so he makes sure he cherishes and takes full advantage of that time.

— Doesn't mind getting called Cat Mom/Dad after getting together with you because technically, you are also Elizabeth's Cat Mom/Dad which means both of you are married and have a child. (I feel like he would think like that, idk why.)

— Loves doing chores with you.

— If you are doing dishes on their own, he will make sure to wrap his arms around your waist and sway a bit and kiss your neck sweetly.

— Jumin makes a big effort to know about your interests. If you like anime, they will make sure to watch the summaries on YouTube of their favourite anime everytime a new episode comes out. If you like painting, they will learn about the best museums to bring you to.

— Loves when you dress traditionally.

— Will buy a vinyl and various disks with elegant music and play it every night. When both of you are in the mood, Jumin will invite you to dance and twirl you about softly while kissing you.

— His kisses normally follow the pattern of Hands —> Arms —> Shoulders —> Neck —> Jaw —> Cheeks —> Nose —> Forehead —> Lips. He makes sure to take a lot of time so you feel good.

— Although he loves the passionate kisses you give, he finds himself falling in love with you even more everytime you kiss and squeeze his hands at the same time. (BONUS POINTS FOR KISSES ON KNUCKLES)

— Dislikes it when you turn away from him in bed. He prefers sleeping while facing each other, cuddling too.

— A lot of different sleeping positions (not like that, get your mind out of the gutter): his head on your shoulders/heads/chest or your head on his chest. He especially likes when you cuddle closer if it's too cold and Bury yourself into his chest.

— Loves when you wash his hair in the bath or vice versa. (Inspired by that one wholesome reddit post. Does anyone know whether that couple is still together?)

— Likes to put his hand under your shirt to trace your spine, collarbone or any bones, really.

— His Favourite Nicknames for you are 'My Queen, Lover, Darling, Sweetheart.'

— You're the only one he allows to call Elizabeth, 'Elly'. He doesn't like to admit it but he also catches him calling Elizabeth 'Elly' at times.

— Loves to see you playing with Elizabeth.

— After a stressful day of work, he will silently drop everything at the door and bury his head into your chest.

— If he ever finds you crying, he will kiss and lick the tears from your eyes.

— Whenever he sees a photo of you on an online article or anywhere in the Media, he will complain that they cannot capture the 'True essence of your beauty.'

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin han x reader #mysmes #jumin han mystic messenger #headcanons #imagine #han jumin #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #mystic messenger jumin #jumin han imagine

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goldenempyrean · 9 months

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I don’t know if you write about about Agatha Harkness but I would love to see Aggs with sick reader. Agatha tries to take care of her but panics because reader is the most valuable thing she has 😊

Witchy Remedies

〚 Notes - Never written for her before so hopefully this is good enough :) Let me know what you think :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Agatha Harkness x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You get sick, Agatha tries to make it better. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1040 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“You okay over there?” A soft voice pulled you out of your daydream, “You’ve hardly said two words since we got home.”

Your girlfriend was standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. Her dark hair was neatly arranged, and her piercing blue eyes held a mixture of worry and affection behind them as a thin furrow creased her brow.

You offered her a small smile as you nodded, "I'm alright, today was just really tiring," You said, in reference to the day you'd both spent hiking together. While that was partly true, the majority of your silence could easily be pinned down to the scratchiness which had formed at the back of your throat a few hours ago - but you didn't want to worry her with that.

“Hmm, if you say so,” She replied, clearly not entirely convinced by your response, “You know, I can always whip up a little something to soothe those tired muscles of yours if you fancy.”

That did sound tempting, you had no idea how she did it, but Agatha always managed to make some sort of concoction which would almost always help. The first few times she’d offered you were worried her remedies would have you turning blue or growing a second head, but you’d come to learn that being in a relation with a skilled witch had their advantages.

“That’d be really nice Aggs,” You nodded to which your girlfriend smiled widely in excitement before turning on her heels as she hurried off to make something.

In the meantime, you sank further into the sofa. Only getting up to grab one of the knitted blankets you kept in a basket before returning back to your original position. As you settled back down, your small orange kitty purred and came to curl up on your lap. The pair of you taken her in a year ago and she never failed to cheer you up.

As you closed your eyes, the exhaustion from the day's activities combined with the soothing warmth of the blanket and the gentle purring of your cat began to lull you into a drowsy state. The hazy evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room as you drifted off to sleep.

Not too long later, Agatha returned to the room, proudly holding a steaming cup in her hands, “Here you go dear, I made-” She paused her eyes lingering on your peaceful form, smiling innocently as she watched you slept.

But the concern she had felt earlier only grew stronger as she saw the flush which had settled on your cheeks, a contrast to your pale skin. She placed the mug on a nearby table and approached you, looking over your features with worry.

"You're not well," Agatha murmured to herself, her fingers gently brushing against your forehead. The heat radiating from her you sent a shiver of worry down Agatha's spine. A small purple glow came through her fingertips before she continued, "You've got a fever. Why didn’t you say something darling?” She sighed to herself before, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you continued to sleep.

After debating what to do, Agatha carefully picked up your sleeping form, cradling you in her arms as if you were the most fragile treasure. With a soft, worried expression, she carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed and tucking you in and smiling as the orange kitty followed suit and came to lay alongside you.

“They’ll be okay Penny, don’t worry.” She whispered to the cat, but it was more so to herself than anything before she returned to the living room, her mind racing with thoughts and plans. She needed to bring your fever down and make you comfortable, that was first on the agenda.

Agatha began rummaging through her collection of herbs and potions, her hands moving with practiced precision. She mixed together a concoction designed to bring down your fever, her brow furrowing as she concentrated, trying to remind calm despite the panic settled beneath her skin – you were far too important to her.

Returning to the bedroom, Agatha sat beside you, carefully lifting your head and helping you sip the potion. "Come on, my love, you need to drink this for me please," She urged gently, her voice a soothing murmur. You stirred slightly, groggily complying, the taste slightly bitter but not unbearable.

Agatha stayed by your side, dabbing your forehead with a damp cloth and murmuring sweet nothings as you dozed off and on. As the evening turn to night the room was enveloped in a tranquil hush, broken only by the occasional muffled sounds of Agatha's soft humming and the rhythmic purring of the orange kitty nestled beside you.

The hours passed by in a blur, the fever slowly relenting under the influence of Agatha's potion and care. Your sleep was restless, punctuated by moments of discomfort and delirium, but Agatha remained a steadfast presence by your side. She continued to adjust your blankets, occasionally waking you up to take sips of the cool water she’d retrieved before stroking your head as she lulled you back down to sleep.

Before long the first light of dawn painted the sky with shades of pink and gold, and when you woke up, your fever had finally broken. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you found yourself staring into Agatha's loving gaze. She smiled warmly; relief evident in her eyes.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," she whispered, her fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Your voice was a mere whisper, hoarse from the earlier scratchiness, but you managed a small smile. "Better… thanks to you."

Agatha's smile widened, and she leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm just glad you're on the mend now love. You had me worried there for a while."

You shifted slightly, wincing as your muscles protested the movement. Agatha was quick to help you find a more comfortable position, her touch gentle and soothing. "You still need to rest," she advised, her tone firm yet caring, "But I’m going to right here by your side.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @observeowl @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunkown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @kljhsong @santana1437 @lovelyy-moonlight @natashamaximoff69 @danveration @rainedontknow @loveshineslikethesky @lexasaurs634 (tagged everyone who said 'all' or who asked for for all marvel, lmk if you want this to change!)

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x y/n #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness #sickfic #fluff #comfort #caretaking #whump #marvel #mcu #agatha harkness sickfic

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thousand-winters · 3 months

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I headcannon that thanks to Hunter’s sleep schedule in the castle (or lack of sleep schedule) he can fall asleep in the weirdest places and positions. Darius finds him one day half hanging off the couch, fast asleep and is like “What??? Are??? You??? Doing???????” And Hunter’s just like “Taking a nap. What’s the big deal?”

Even worse probably, because I imagine he used to only do that in his room, for obvious reasons since he couldn't trust to be safe anywhere else at the castle (and even then it's debatable since he didn't seem to lock his door 😭), and then perhaps once he was comfortable enough at the Nocedas, though mostly in the basement with Gus or whenever the whole group was together so he felt safe enough for it.

So of course even if he does trust Darius, this dynamic they're taking on is new, and unexplored, so I feel like it would take a bit before he starts to feel like the house is a safe space. A handful of weeks and a couple of mild crisis after he first moves in, Darius finds him for the first time sleeping with half of his body on the coffee table and half on the floor, and he's like "what were you working on that was so important you exhausted yourself to this point???" and granted, Hunter doesn't have the best history when it comes to overworking himself but he was??? just taking a nap??? Obviously???

Darius files it away in his mind as a one time incident.

But then he continues having to do a double take while walking down the hallway and is that Eber? No, that's too big to be Eber, what is Hunter doing sleeping on the floor...

He's understandably very concerned at first too, because he doesn't know if this is because of some particular aspect of Hunter's trauma or if it's a health problem or anything but Hunter for once has the more benign explanations of him being sort of like a cat once he feels safe somewhere, he just falls asleep in the most unlikely places and in the most unlikely positions that can't possibly be good for his spine but he says they are comfortable.

And, alright, part of it is years of sleep deprivation, but he swears it's nothing that bad.

Darius is definitely trying to help him fix his sleep schedule, but for the time being he just gives up. He strongly suggest the couch or anywhere comfortable for Hunter's naps, as randomly as they can happen through the day, but he also starts leaving pillows here and there so Hunter can grab them at convenience. He wasn't aware he had adopted a cat of a kid, but he can work with this.

If he's in the living room or somewhere like that, he starts going to sit nearby too so he can check on him while he naps and once he wakes up. It's a form of bonding somehow.

#hunter deamonne #darius deamonne #dadrius #the owl house #toh

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taleofturtleclan · 5 months

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MOON 11

“Do you feel ready for this?”

Brokenmast gritted his teeth and nodded. There was no uncertainty in Dustjump’s question, just the calm caution of a healer confirming with her patient that they were ready to take the next step in their recovery. And he was. He knew he was.

Two moons ago, Dustjump had announced that the driftwood splints that had kept his back straight had done all the good they were ever going to do- the bones had healed fully, and all that was left was increasing Brokenmast’s mobility. When the uncomfortable, stiff splints had come off, Brokenmast had breathed a sigh of relief, believing the hardest part of his recovery to be over. He’d been wrong.

Dustjump had never lied to him about his path to recovery, but part of Brokenmast had expected the healing of the fractures in his spine to do more for him, that once they’d healed he’d be able to walk again. But apparently, healing the damage in his spine and retraining his back half to function the way it once had were two distinct processes, not entirely unrelated, but not a one to one connection either. He’d been able to start some of that work while the splint was on, but most of it had to wait for the bones to mend fully. Over the last two moons, Brokenmast had regained much of the feeling in his hind legs (though he still woke up with his hind legs numb if he slept in the wrong position), and had then worked hard to regain a complete range of motion. A moon ago, he’d been able to stand for the first time since his accident, albeit with support from the hefty reeds Dustjump had been binding his legs with and help from his campmates. A half-moon ago, he’d taken his first steps with Tidechaser and Dustjump supporting him on either side. And today, he was going to walk out of the den on his own for the first time.

Dustjump’s eyes shone with pride. “I’ll go and get him,” she purred. “You join us when you feel ready.” The light brown tabby ducked out of the den, leaving Brokenmast alone with Foam, the only cat aside from Dustjump who knew what he would be attempting today. When the young brown and white tom had first moved into Dustjump’s den with a deadly cough, Brokenmast had felt mildly concerned for his acquaintance, but he’d also felt a tiny bit resentful of having the space he’d come to think of as belonging to him and Dustjump invaded by another cat. But as Foam had lain recovering in his nest, with nothing to do other than sleep and talk all day, he and Brokenmast had struck up a true friendship, to the point where Brokenmast had been sad to see the other tom leave the den once he’d recovered. However, true to his word, Foam had continued to visit, sometimes to bring food or talk, and sometimes to assist with his recovery. Between him, Tidechaser and Dustjump, Brokenmast’s old loneliness seemed a distant memory.

“I’m ready now,” he informed Foam, bowing his head. Foam bent over with a purr, sinking his teeth gently but firmly into Brokenmast’s scruff and heaving up. As Brokenmast felt the pull on the back of his neck, he pushed up with all four paws, settling into a standing position. Going from laying or sitting to standing was still very difficult for him to do alone, but he could feel himself growing stronger all the time. Soon he’d be able to rise to his paws unassisted.

Foam gingerly touched his nose to Brokenmast’s ear. “I know you can do this,” he murmured.

Brokenmast nodded, not daring to break his concentration with a verbal reply as Foam helped him to the entrance of the den. The other tom’s supportive bulk disappeared from Brokenmast’s side, and he paused for a moment, preparing himself for the task ahead.

He stepped out into the light.

It was a clumsy step, solid and hard, like his paws were made of wood, but it was his step, and his step alone. He found his goal, the broad, spotted back of Tidechaser, currently facing away from him, deep in conversation with Dustjump. The molly glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Brokenmast with a flick of her ear for acknowledgement. She leaned close to Tidechaser to whisper something, her tail brushing along his back, and then Tidechaser was turning around, his gaze confused at first, then going wide as he caught sight of Brokenmast.

Brokenmast took another step. Then another. The journey across the camp’s clearing seemed to take moons, and he was panting by the time he made it halfway across, but he was determined to make it all the way there. His gaze was trained on his goal, the large form of Tidechaser watching him with pride and joy shining in his eyes. Brokenmast kept moving forward.

With a final step, he reached his friend, his heart pounding and his breath heaving. But he was here at last, here at Tidechaser’s side, and he’d done it all by himself. Tidechaser bumped his head against Brokenmast’s with a purr so hard that it shook his entire body. “You did it,” Tidechaser murmured. “You really did it. Brokenmast, you’re amazing. Congratulations.”

The rest of the cats in camp closed in around them, offering words of praise and encouragement, but to Brokenmast, Tidechaser’s words were worth more than all of them combined.

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #tidechaser #brokenmast #foamfeather #Moon 11

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littleperilstories · 1 year

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The Prince of Thieves: A Cruel Twist of Fate Has Brought Us Together Again

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison setting, blood, aftermath of flogging, mention of attempted sexual assault, mention of death/execution, lady whump

Fun fact! This chapter has its origins in Whumptober Day 11 ( sloppy bandages, self-done first aid) and Day 13 ("Are you here to break me out?"), but literally none of the prompts survived the revival process.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 2366 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

A Cruel Twist of Fate Has Brought Us Together Again

Teaser: Noise cracks the silence—a door screeching open, voices and clanking chains, scuffling footsteps and curses. I blink. A ragged breath catches in my chest. They’re dragging someone in. A girl—that girl.

Will

Wakefulness is not my friend.

How… How did I get here? My memory is hazy. Why does everything hurt like hell?

I’m lying on my stomach—not how I would normally sleep. Who in their right mind would press their bare face into the grime that passes for a floor in here? Trying to move, though, reminds me exactly why I’m lying face-down in muck.

Fifteen lashes with the cat. Hatchett’s voice, as stony and cruel in my memory as it is in life, sends a chill down my spine. How could I have forgotten the moment he sentenced me to yet more pain, every ounce of his barely contained wrath trained precisely on me?

My feet ache from being hit, but not in the same way that my back screams in agony. Hatchett was probably right when he predicted I would walk away from the whipping post after the first round—in pain, sure, but not incapacitated.

He’d have been right, that is, if I hadn’t set myself for the second part.

God, what was I thinking? Tears burn my eyes as I make another feeble attempt to move. Tracking the memories backwards is a struggle when the only thought I can conjure is, This hurts this hurts this hurts this hurts so fucking much. But I have to concentrate, try to remember. I…I was angry. Really pissed off. Why? Aside, of course, from having every eye on me while they flung me around like a sack of potatoes and let Michaelson hit me as hard as he wanted—

A scream, shrill and tearful, cuts through the fog in my mind. “Stop it!”

Fuck. The girl. That’s what it was.

When her gasp first caught my attention, and she was staring at me with more than just pity and horror, as if she recognized me somehow, I had no idea who she was. I remember thinking at the time, though, that it was a relief to see someone looking at me with something other than disdain.

But I do remember who she is. It’s come back to me now. She’s the same runner I met in that alley two years ago, the night I tried to walk home with a gash in my side and would probably have bled or frozen to death if Jamie and Colette hadn’t found me.

The memories are flowing freely now, too fast, out of control. Then—Colette’s worried face, Jamie’s terror manifesting as anger, that sick fucker trying to take something that did not belong to him, that girl’s fingers on my skin, her staring up half-dazed and teary-eyed as she tried to wipe the blood from my face. As she tried to offer some semblance of comfort to me, after what she’d just been through, while her own hands still trembled.

Today—Hatchett glaring down at me, so many eyes watching me being beaten, her tears, her cry to stop the whipping, the crack in her voice as our esteemed constable made her count to the last stroke.

Fuck.

Fury boils through me again, but my body won’t move, can’t move, and with no way out, it simmers down again to quietly churning anger. The bastards can do what they want to me. I know what fate awaits me, what I have chosen by refusing to talk.

But some girl from the line of prisoners, obviously distraught and trying to be kind…

Grunting, I try again to pull myself to a sitting position, to no avail. Deep breaths—one, two. Goddamn, I think my entire body might be on fire.

I vaguely remember now, coming back here. I don’t think I was fully out, but I don’t think I was fully in, either. Distant voices, pain blooming all over me, the medic grumbling… Yes, Gysborne, that slimy bastard. Said it was time for his midday meal and he’d come back around later to check my back if he remembered to. He’s still pissed off about the escape attempt and the enormous bruise I left on his ugly face. Seems I’ll be paying for it for a while yet.

Wonderful. The cuts on my back where the whip split the skin… Going to be raging with infection in no time.

The torch in the wall taunts me with its weak imitation of the sun, and a dark laugh rises weakly inside my chest. Wasn’t I wishing to be back outside and see the sky? Isn’t that part of what prompted me to run? Guess I got my wish. Turns out it wasn’t worth it. At all.

I need to move. Lying like this keeps pressure off my back, which is fine, but my still-healing shoulder is taking too much of my weight, and now it hurts, too.

When I’m finally sitting up, muscles shaking and sweat stinging my eyes, I glance down at my shoulder. Wet darkness has seeped into the bandage. Bleeding again. When the hell did that happen?

So much for healing well…the whole reason Hatchett was allowed to go through with my punishment in the first place.

The spectre of infection haunts me again. Maybe Gysborne just won’t come back at all—I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s almost a happy thought. If fever gets into my blood, rages through me like a storm, then I won’t even have to face the gallows. Wouldn’t that piss Hatchett off? If after all his efforts to keep me here until I spill every last IA secret, I died because his dumb fucking medic couldn’t do his job properly?

Sitting up is uncomfortable, but I don’t have much of a choice between my weeping shoulder and my shrieking back. I can feel every sizzling cut and how they, disturbed by the shift from lying down to sitting, ooze sluggish trickles down my skin.

Noise cracks the silence—a door screeching open, voices and clanking chains, scuffling footsteps and curses. I blink.

A ragged breath catches in my chest. They’re dragging someone in. A girl—that girl. She’s struggling against their grips, the pale cotton of her dress blinding against the dark blue of their uniforms. Nothing she does will dislodge their hold, of course, but the colourful words she’s spitting at Hatchett make her displeasure very clear. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so awful.

She’s still in chains when they stop, although Hatchett is kind enough to unlock the ones on her wrists before he shoves her into the cell next to mine.

“Until we speak again, Miss Cooper.” The smarmy voice makes bile rise in my throat.

The firelight casts a positively feral look across her features, but Hatchett is unfazed—already slamming the door and locking it.

His gaze flicks over to me, just for an instant, and when he sees that I’m awake and upright, his lip curls. Until we speak again, thief.

As he and the guards retreat and the far door closes, darkness reigns once more, leaving me and the girl alone in silence and frail, flickering light.

Miss Cooper. Just like Ezra, Hatchett knows her name. Unlike Ezra, he’s locked her up instead of killing her.

She presses a hand against her mouth, stifling a quiet sob. It strikes me she probably doesn’t know that I’m even here.

I’m about to speak, to say something innocuous like “Hello,” but when I attempt to inch a little closer to her cell, the chain on my ankles makes a scraping rattle across the floor, and the movement sends a wave of pain through my back so intense that instead of forming words, I just groan.

She jumps, startled, and then gasps.

“You’re…”

It’s difficult to know what is supposed to finish that sentence. You’re…alive? Awake? That moron who got humiliated in front of everyone today? One of the inner circle? The man from that night? A complete and total idiot?

Confusion slashes across her face, furrowing her brows and parting her pale lips. She must be cold. “I—Why did you…” Her words cut off again. “Are you all right?”

She’s asked me that before, and I’ve asked her. My side, still bearing a faint scar where that man sliced into the skin and Geoff neatly stitched me back up, twinges at the memory. “Uh… I’ve been better.”

She moves closer to the bars that separate us, her shackles dragging on the floor. “You didn’t have to— I’m sorry— It’s my—” She pauses and sucks in a deep breath. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Her unbruised, unblemished skin is stark against the darkness that surrounds us. Hatchett didn’t hang her like that other runner, and it doesn’t look like he beat her, either. Which is good, of course, but it begs the question… Why?

I don’t know what to say to something like I’m sorry they hurt you. They’ve been hurting me. They’re going to continue hurting me. It’s easier to change the subject. “Did he question you?”

She nods, glancing away as if I won’t notice the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I had nothing to give him. And I told him that.” She wraps her arms around her knees. “He’s going to hang me, isn’t he?”

I swallow. I don’t know how to answer that, either. Silence sits between us until she, too, changes topics.

“Does it…hurt a lot?” The girl doesn’t sob at the prospect of her impending death. Not right now, not in front of me, anyway. She just angles her head and uses her shoulder to wipe the tears that sneak out. Real subtle. “Your…your back? Your feet?”

I let out a shallow laugh. “Oh, my feet are fine.” An exaggeration, maybe, but it’s mostly true. “Not that different from getting whacked on the hand at school.”

She winces. Perhaps she has never felt the sting of a strap or a ruler on her skin. “Did that happen a lot?”

The question with its all-too-obvious answer—yes, almost every day—makes me laugh again, which makes me move, which makes me hurt.

“Your back, though.” Her voice is solemn. She must hear the way my laugh collapses into a grunt of pain. “Can I see?”

I really, really don’t want to turn around. “I can’t move that much.”

“Please,” she says. “Let me look at it.”

For reasons I can’t articulate or understand, I do.

Dragging myself across the cell is nothing short of agony. The bandaged arm doesn’t take much weight. The chained ankles don’t give me much freedom. The bleeding back howls with such pain that my vision swims a little.

I rest my head on my knees when I’m finally close enough that she can examine my battered back. There’s no way I should be so tired from inching across this tiny cell, but I’m dizzy. “Is it bad?”

She hums an affirmation, gentle with an undertone of worry and more than a little horror. “He…he did that.” Almost dazed.

“Yeah. He’s a crazy motherfucker. Are you surprised?”

Her answer drifts through the bars, a whisper. “No.”

Now that I’m sitting this way, I’m stuck here, too tired to move and face her again. I wonder if I should speak, but the cell is still rocking. I keep my head pressed against my knees.

“I know you won’t remember, but…” I certainly don’t need to worry about keeping the conversation flowing. She’s got it covered. “We’ve met before. I— We— It was you. You—”

“No, I remember. I know.” It’s a relief that I don’t have to be the one to bring up that horrible night.

“You do?”

“Yes.” Wind whipping through the narrow backstreets, a cry tearing through the air. “It was snowing. You were in the alley, wearing trousers.” Oh my god, what made me say that part? I think maybe I’ve been punched a few too many times now. “That man…”

“You saved my life.” Her voice cracks. “And I never thanked you properly.”

Really? I want to ask. That’s your big worry right now? Immediately, guilt worms into me. If she’s going to die, if we both are, perhaps clearing unfinished business isn’t the most unreasonable thing to prioritize. “I’m sure you did. But you don’t need to—”

“I didn’t—well, I guess I perhaps did, but I was distraught and probably not making sense and frightened and crying and…”

Lifting my head and looking at her would probably be the right thing to do. I can’t. “Are you… Are you telling me you’ve been worrying about that for nearly two years? That you were upset because something…upsetting…happened?”

“Well—”

“Listen.” I know I shouldn’t be so short with her. But it’s so hard, too hard, to collect my thoughts into the right words and my words into the right tone. All I really want is to stop hurting, and that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Or ever. “I just did what any good person would do.”

She waits, leaves a long pause before she answers. “Good people,” she says softly. “I… I haven’t met many of those.”

Something inside me shudders, breaking through the haze of pain. What the hell has this girl’s life been like?

Jamie and Colette and Geoff, Dad and Ma. Our landlord, from back when Jamie and I were kids, who hated my guts because I was loud and obnoxious but was still kind when he needed to be. Every person who ever caught on that we had money when we should’ve had none and kept their mouths shut and didn’t turn us in. The runners who risk their lives and freedom to steal for IA, all to make life a little better for folks they’ll never meet.

All good people.

There are plenty out there, I want to say. Just not…in here.

I hold my tongue. What point is there in asking questions, prying into her business, or insisting that she’s wrong? After all, I don’t know what kind of life brought her here. Maybe, I think, she doesn’t have anyone like Jamie or Colette or Geoff to give her hope. Maybe, ridiculous as it sounds, this girl has not been as lucky as me.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

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cantarella-if · 2 years

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Dude you are considering putting to sleep your cat for bitting you instead of finding a solution to his bad behavior and start a slow process to get him better? What the fuck is wrong with you?

If you are not willing to go through all the having a pet complications then just dont get a pet. Find him someone that’s actually willing to give him a try instead of just “welp 90% we will have to put him to sleep for bitting me” you fucking coward.

Excuse the fuck out of me, but I have had this cat for 14 years and I love him dearly. He is like my son. No way in hell am I saying "oh he bit me, let me kill him." I am considering not only my own safety but his quality of life. The poor thing is obviously in pain and that is why he bit me. He has spent nearly a month stuck in a cage so he doesn't reinjure himself, unable to move his back legs and tail let alone walk or stand, urinating all over himself because he cannot control his bladder, barely eating to the point where he has visibly lost weight and I can feel every bump of his spine. He's suffering. What I want is for him to not be in pain. At the same time, if he's in enough pain to hurt me and send me to the fucking ER, it needs to be considered. I was originally told he might have to be put to sleep if he did not improve and he seems to be getting worse. I don't want to and it is my absolute last resort. I am in animal rescue. I've had pets all my life. I know how to take care of them. But at the same time, how can I care for him if I'm afraid to touch him?

Do you think I want to keep him in a cage so he doesn't hurt himself? You think I want to kill him? I would give anything to see him well again, literally anything. This is in no fucking way a choice I would make were any other options available.

Unless you have seen how this cat is suffering, been where I have been, crying myself to sleep every night for literal weeks because I can't afford medical treatment for him on a cashier's salary, begging friends and family for money to pay his vet bills and for supplies to keep him clean and comfortable because he can't even go to the bathroom without soiling himself, then fuck off. You are in no position to judge my situation. If it is what is best for him, then yes, I will end his suffering in the most humane way that I can out of love. I will NOT let him live the rest of his life the way he is now if God forbid he has no hope of improvement because THAT would be unforgivable. I'm praying with all my heart that this isn't the case.

If you think for one second that I wouldn't take the chance to save his life if I could, then I hope you never have to be faced with this situation for your own pets. How dare you send a message like this to someone who is obviously torn up over a decision like this! And on anon, too. If anyone is a coward here, it's you. Go fuck yourself, anon.

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rabbitdrabbles · 2 years

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introducing my OCs: the rabbit and the goat-man!!

[CW for torture, captivity, kidnapping, written and visual depictions of injury, mentions of amputation/decapitation, noncon touching, very vague mentions of sexual content?]

(also warning this post is LONG :P)

(the tag for them is #rabbit n goat)

^ edit: updated version, not much changed it’s just meant to be a mildly better (still shitty) ref lol

very basic info and initial designs

these two OCs started out on a random whim one summer’s night in 2021, and from then I’ve tried to tone down the amount of lore I’d add to them (because I REALLY love unnecessary worldbuilding) which I kind of failed at so sorry if this post is long.

about the rabbit:

- he isn’t actually a rabbit, as a matter of fact he’s a strange immortal being with the features of a large hare, a fox-like tail, slit snake pupils, canine teeth, and makes cat noises. quite the conglomerate of creatures indeed, but the goat-man just calls him a rabbit, and so that is his name.

- whenever a body part or organ is completely removed from the rabbit, a new and perfect replica grows in its place within typically a couple hours, although it depends: a few missing fingers or teeth only takes an hour or two whilst a removed spine or decapitated head could take well over a day. however, the removed body part remains for a short period of time before quickly decomposing (although if preserved properly it will remain fresh and not break down). the exception is the head and more specifically the brain, which both disintegrate immediately upon a new head/brain growing into place and cannot be preserved.

- anesthesia and other painkillers don’t work on him :3 muscle relaxants do immobilize him enough for the goat-man to operate on him, though…

- and did I mention he can’t pass out or vomit? he can’t be knocked unconscious unless he falls asleep on his own, and his stomach forcibly turns any and all nutrients, poisons and toxins into usable energy regardless of how painful the process is. I fucking love making this guy miserable

- his nerves/touch receptors are also more sensitive than a human’s, but on the bright side his immune system is strong enough to not just regenerate literally everything but also prevents infections, inflammations, rotting flesh, etc

- he can turn into a big fluffy hare looking thing!!! (see flemish giant rabbits for an approximate reference, although he’s bigger— the size of a large dog— and looks somewhat different). the goat-man finds this version of him irresistibly cute so he doesn’t really abuse him in that form, although he can forcibly shapeshift the rabbit back using intense electric shocks. I’ll link some art of what his animal form looks like later!

about the goat-man:

- unlike the rabbit he does look like a man crossed with a goat (although with an extraordinarily long tail), but it seems like he’s effectively immortal as well, it’s strange.

- an out-of-practice general surgeon, he technically does specialize some in orthopedics and a bit of thoracic surgery. he doesn’t operate or come to the hospital anymore though, instead choosing to bring hell upon the poor rabbit instead.

- when not covered in the scent of blood and gore, the goat-man smells of lemongrass and sandalwood and is actually pretty comfortable to sleep on/with. yeah.

- unexpectedly became obsessed with the rabbit’s fluffy ears and tail and pets them every chance he gets, and is positively in love with his animal form.

- self proclaimed mad scientist like the looney he is, sociopath, clean freak, taxidermy enthusiast, ex-satanist and sadist x100 :)

about both of em:

- they’re probably both aro/ace, and the goat-man has no libido whatsoever. the rabbit on the other hand, being a lagomorph hybrid… yeah I might not discuss it too much (we’ll see) but things do happen with him lol

- neither of em are good people. there’s not much else to be revealed about here (again I’m trying to cut down on lore) but all you have to know is that the goat-man is pretty explicitly… a sadistic shit and the rabbit actually used to be quite a malevolent force too in his past life. his backstory isn’t discussed about currently besides some passing mentions, he’s a little too broken for any of that anymore.

- because the goat-man is also the caretaker and comforter as well as the tormentor, the rabbit has developed an almost borderline stockholm syndrome towards him, referring to the goat-man as “sir” or occasionally “doctor” out of terrified politeness (ok tbf he doesn’t know his name) and has a habit of burying his face into his captor’s neck when he is allowed to sleep on the bed ;w; (it doesn’t help that the goat-man is his only source of human interaction and therefore he must rely on him for everything.)

- their little shenanigans happen almost like in a bubble inside the goat-man’s strange house in the middle of an infinitely vast, silent woods. there’s very strange things happening here indeed, and a (not confirmed canon) theory that not everything is as it seems… sigh just when I said I would cut down on the lore

- will the rabbit ever be able to take his revenge one day? maybe in an alternate universe… I have a chart planned of all the possible AU versions that’ll be revealed later haha

general full-body designs, may be subject to slight alterations (also note that all the artwork in this post is slightly old, from June 2021)

I don’t want to infodump everything all at once so these are just the barebones about them, I’ll be revealing more as time passes (and if you wanna know anything specific or just would like to immediately know more in general just send an ask!! I’d be MORE than happy to answer (￣∇￣) −☆)

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the-wytch-is-back · 9 months

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The Forest (Short Story)

[[ Older piece circa around 2017/18 I believe that was inspired by one of my favorite artists Dappermouth! This particular piece was inspired by this beautiful piece, here! ]]

I’ve always been deeply unsettled by the idea of animals acting as humans. Don’t get me wrong I love my cat, Aster… but the thought of him speaking or walking on two legs is enough to send a chill rushing up my spine. Maybe it’s the dreams I’ve felt plagued by since early childhood… for as long as I can remember, actually.

There are always people… but one person sticks out, they feel much more real than the others. They are usually dressed in black robes, but too obscured for me to really make out. There was one thing that was always clear though… their heads were always replaced with animals. Yet, I’m not sure if replaced was the right word… because as unsettled as it made me feel, it just seemed entirely right.

The dreams were far more frequent when I was younger, I’d wake up in a cold sweat nearly every night. Unable to cry, or to call out to my mother… all I could do was lay with my eyes stuck open. And I could almost swear that I could see a tall, dark shape retreating back into the woods.

The dreams subsided a bit into my teen and college years. That might have been due to stress… to the copious amounts of caffeine and other substances that I used to keep sleep at bay. I found when I spent the night with somebody else the dreams and accompanying sleep paralysis were kept at bay. Going to college in the city might have helped… I had a feeling it felt out of its element in the always-bustling streets of New York City.

It only wanted me… that much was clear. I must sound crazy or conceited, claiming my dreams mean anything or that some supernatural being desired or needed me in any way. But believe me, it does not make me feel special in any way… I feel as if every waking and sleeping moment of my life has been shrouded in fear, anxiety, and a strange sense of anticipation.

The dreams seemed to stop altogether for a time… when I was in grad school getting my master’s degree to teach high school history. Maybe it was the constant feeling of stress, the city, the sleepless nights, or my unwillingness to sleep without another body besides my own.

Yet, I still found myself moving back home to Maine once I had completed my master’s program. It’s so quiet and still here compared to the congested, screaming streets of New York City.

I was given my old family home in my father’s passing… really I was given everything that he had. I had been accepted for a teaching position at my old high school…. the very same position that had belonged to my father till his dying day. I’m not sure if the offer was made because of my credentials… or some sense of pity for my father’s passing. I can’t say that I’m complaining, as finding a job these days is trouble anywhere.

Everything is so quiet here… and it takes somebody used to this place to know the quiet has hidden sounds. Birds chirping, bugs singing their early spring songs, and the peepers that live along the brook…

I feel almost crazy admitting this… but I saw it this morning. And not in my dreams, but standing…. still, unmoving amongst the thin trees that lined the thick forest that dominated most of my small town. It almost seemed static… as if it couldn’t move of its own will, and was attached to the space it occupied.

It stood in those same dark robes, one of its large pale hands raised. The fingertips were red, and I could not tell if they were bloody, or just chilled from the early morning cold. Its head was the muzzle of a black stag. The dark brown antlers were spotted and wound with small leaves, and the beginning buds of flowers.

As the creature finally moved back towards the woods… it still didn’t seem to be moving of its own accord. It felt as if it was being pulled back, like a marionette being controlled by some greater force. Its white eyes stayed locked onto mine until the darkness of the woods finally ate its form completely. But I still felt like it was watching me… like it had been watching me all these years.

I knew that it had missed me… and somehow I had missed it and its many-faced visage.

It wanted me to follow.

And maybe not today… maybe not tomorrow.

But someday I will, and see what lives beyond the trees of that dark forest.

#short story #horror #horror fiction #short fiction #dappermouth #spilled ink #writer #writing #my writing #creative writing #creative fiction #prose

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fitnesstack · 1 year

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10 Simple and Effective Ways to Improve Your Posture Today

If you frequently slouch at your desk or hunch over your phone? You’re not by yourself. Poor posture is a common issue that can lead to a variety of health problems, including back pain, neck pain, headaches, and decreased mobility.

Good posture not only gives you a confident and attractive appearance, but it also has several health benefits. Back pain, neck pain, headaches, and even breathing difficulties can result from poor posture. Improving your posture, on the other hand, does not have to be difficult or time-consuming. In this article, we’ll look at 10 easy and effective ways to improve your posture right now.

Here are 10 Simple and Effective Ways to Improve Your Posture Today

Keep your back straight: First, sit up straight in your chair, feet flat on the floor. Maintain a straight back and relaxed shoulders. Slouching or hunching over your desk should be avoided.

Adjust your workspace: Ascertain that your workstation is ergonomically designed to promote good posture. Adjust the height of your chair so that your feet are flat on the floor and your knees form a 90-degree angle. To avoid neck strain, place your computer monitor at eye level.

Take frequent breaks: Stretch and move around frequently while sitting or standing. This can aid in the prevention of stiffness and the improvement of circulation.

Improve your core strength: Core muscle strength can help support good posture. Try exercises like planks, sit-ups, and bridges to strengthen your abs and lower back.

Stretch your chest: By preventing your shoulders from rounding forward, stretching your chest can help improve your posture. Stand in a doorway and stretch your arms out to the sides before gently leaning forward to stretch your chest muscles.

Practice yoga: Yoga can help you improve your posture by stretching and strengthening the muscles that support your spine. To improve your posture, try poses like downward dog, cat-cow, and cobra.

Wear supportive shoes: Wearing supportive shoes can help improve your posture by giving your body a stable foundation. Wearing high heels or shoes with little arch support for extended periods should be avoided.

Sleep in the proper position: Sleeping in the proper position can help improve your posture by properly aligning your spine. Sleep on your back or side, using a supportive pillow.

Make use of a posture corrector: A posture corrector can assist you in training your muscles to maintain proper posture. From braces to posture-correcting shirts, they come in a variety of shapes and sizes.

Take note of your posture: Finally, keep your posture in mind throughout the day. Pay attention to how you’re standing or sitting and make any necessary adjustments. Good posture will become second nature over time.

Conclusion

It doesn’t have to be difficult or time-consuming to improve your posture. You can improve your posture and enjoy the many health benefits that come with it by making simple adjustments to your workstation, strengthening your core, stretching your chest, practicing yoga, wearing supportive shoes, and being mindful of your posture. Begin today and be proud!

#bodyposture #musclesbuilding #goodposture #fitnesstack

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itzabouthealth · 1 year

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Why Correct Posture Is Important for Your Health

As we go through our daily lives, we rarely pay attention to the way we sit, stand or walk. We often slouch while sitting on our desks, or we hunch our shoulders while walking. These habits may seem harmless at first, but they can take a toll on our health in the long run. Poor posture not only affects our physical appearance but can also lead to a variety of health problems. In this article, we will discuss why correct posture is essential for your health and suggest posture corrector sticks as a solution.

What is posture and why is it important?

Posture refers to the position of your body while sitting, standing, or lying down. Good posture involves aligning your body in a way that puts the least amount of strain on your muscles, joints, and ligaments. Correct posture involves keeping your spine in a neutral position, which reduces the risk of developing back pain, neck pain, and other musculoskeletal problems.

Common posture problems and their effects on health

Poor posture can lead to a variety of health problems, including:

Back pain: Poor posture can lead to an increased strain on the muscles and ligaments of the back, leading to chronic pain.

Neck pain: Hunching your shoulders or craning your neck forward while sitting or standing can cause neck pain and stiffness.

Headaches: Poor posture can put pressure on the neck and shoulders, leading to tension headaches.

Digestive issues: Slouching while sitting can compress the internal organs, leading to digestive problems like acid reflux and constipation.

Poor circulation: Sitting with crossed legs or slouching can compress blood vessels, leading to poor circulation and numbness in the legs.

Poor lung function: Slouching can compress the lungs, reducing their capacity and leading to shallow breathing.

Benefits of good posture

Maintaining good posture has several benefits for your health, including:

Reduced back pain: Good posture can reduce the strain on your back muscles and ligaments, reducing the risk of developing chronic pain.

Improved balance and stability: Good posture involves aligning your body’s center of gravity over your base of support, improving your balance and stability.

Better breathing: Good posture allows your lungs to expand fully, improving your breathing and increasing oxygen intake.

Increased energy levels: Good posture reduces muscle strain, allowing you to move more efficiently and with less effort, which can increase your energy levels.

How to improve your posture

Improving your posture takes time and effort, but it is worth it in the long run. Here are some tips and exercises to help you improve your posture:

Exercises to improve posture

Chin tucks: Sit with your back straight, tuck your chin towards your chest, and hold for 5 seconds.

Shoulder blade squeezes: Sit with your back straight, squeeze your shoulder blades together, and hold for 5 seconds

Wall angels: Stand with your back against a wall, raise your arms to shoulder height, and slowly move them up and down while keeping your back and arms in contact with the wall.

Planks: Lie face down, raise yourself up onto your forearms and toes, and hold for 30 seconds.

Cat-cow stretch: Get down on your hands and knees, arch your back while exhaling, and round your spine while inhaling.

Tips for maintaining good posture

Sit with your back straight, shoulders relaxed, and feet flat on the floor.

Keep your computer screen at eye level, and your keyboard and mouse within easy reach.

Take frequent breaks to stretch and move around.

Sleep on a firm mattress, and use a pillow that supports your neck and spine.

What are posture corrector sticks?

Posture corrector sticks are devices that are designed to help improve your posture by providing support to your back and shoulders. They are typically made of lightweight materials like neoprene and can be worn discreetly under your clothing.

How do posture corrector sticks work?

Posture corrector sticks work by pulling your shoulders back and aligning your spine in a neutral position. By doing so, they reduce the strain on your back muscles and ligaments and help to prevent slouching.

Types of posture corrector sticks

There are several types of posture corrector sticks available, including:

Clavicle braces: These are designed to provide support to the collarbone and upper back.

Shoulder straps: These are designed to pull your shoulders back and keep your spine aligned.

Posture shirts: These are made of stretchy materials that provide compression and support to your back and shoulders.

Lumbar supports: These are designed to provide support to the lower back and help to maintain proper spinal alignment.

How to choose the right posture corrector stick for you

When choosing a posture corrector stick, consider the following factors:

Type of support: Consider whether you need support for your upper back, lower back, or both.

Size: Ensure that the posture corrector fits comfortably and is not too tight or too loose.

Material: Look for a lightweight and breathable material that will not cause irritation or discomfort.

Adjustability: Choose a posture corrector that can be adjusted to fit your body shape and size.

Are posture corrector sticks safe to use?

Posture corrector sticks are generally safe to use, but they should be used as directed. It is essential to choose a posture corrector that fits well and is not too tight or too loose. Overuse of a posture corrector can lead to muscle weakness and dependency, so it is important to use them in conjunction with exercises to strengthen your back and core muscles.

Tips for using posture corrector sticks

Start slowly: Begin by wearing the posture corrector for short periods, gradually increasing the time as your muscles get used to the support.

Use it in conjunction with exercises: Pair the use of a posture corrector with exercises to improve your posture and strengthen your back muscles.

Adjust as needed: If the posture corrector is uncomfortable or causes pain, adjust it or stop using it altogether.

Common misconceptions about posture corrector sticks

There are several misconceptions about posture corrector sticks, including:

Posture corrector sticks are only for people with bad posture: Posture corrector sticks can be used by anyone who wants to improve their posture, regardless of their current posture.

Posture corrector sticks can fix your posture overnight: Improving your posture takes time and consistent effort, so do not expect overnight results.

Posture corrector sticks are a permanent solution: While posture corrector sticks can provide support and help you maintain good posture, they should not be used as a permanent solution. It is essential to also incorporate exercises and lifestyle changes to improve your posture in the long term.

Where To Buy The Original Posture Corrector Sticks?

Warning: Remember to buy the posture corrector yoga sticks from their official website, otherwise you’ll get scammed

Click Here To Buy The Posture Corrector Sticks From Their Official Website

Conclusion

Maintaining good posture is essential for your overall health and well-being. Poor posture can lead to back pain, fatigue, and other health problems. By incorporating exercises and lifestyle changes like using posture corrector sticks, you can improve your posture and reduce the risk of these problems. Remember to choose the right posture corrector for your needs, use it as directed, and pair it with exercises to strengthen your back and core muscles.

#Why Correct Posture Is Important for Your Health #importance of posture correct #importance of posture corrector #posture corrector #posture correction #posture #good posture

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little-fics · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Request summary: you are not happy about your daddies new way of keeping track of you, but maybe you could warm up to the idea of it

Warnings: Age regression; pacifier mention; sort of leashes but its like a baby leash connected to a backpack; baby has hurt feelings; I could have missed something so please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I really hope you like it nonnie, I really enjoyed writing it. love you buggy boos <3

You wanted to look at everything not matter where you went with your daddies. At the park it was every dog, every leaf. At the store it was every fluffy thing you could find, every piece of candy or toy. If you saw something you wanted to look at, you were gone. Steve and Bucky had discussed their options after the fifth time you'd run off from them. It wasn't that they didn't want you to look, but you're their baby and you needed one of your daddies to go with you. The problem with that? You forgot in your excitement; a lot.

That's how you've found yourself in this predicament.

You were ready to go to the zoo, tattered thigh jean shorts and a pretty tie-dye shirt with SpongeBob's crew with cute purple shoes. You were bouncing on your heels at the door, waiting impatiently on your daddies. You know better than to go out the door and wait for them by the car, so you're whining, rushing your daddies.

"Papaaaa, it's time to go! We not gonna get to see eb'ryfin'!" Steve came rounding the corner, Bucky trailing right behind him with a lavender backpack in his hand that seemed a little full. Steve picked you up, balancing you on his hip, "We're almost ready little one," he wiggled his finger on your tummy, "we just want to show you something before we go." Bucky held the backpack up, smiling innocently.

It was so cute, it was a shade lighter than your shoes to match perfectly. It was plain, other than the pins and small keychain fidget toys your daddies had surely put on. He opened it up and it had a coloring book, a pack of colored pencils, your favorite pacifier and Lincoln the Ram, the oldest stuffie you had. You reached for the ram, and when you'd pulled him out you saw a bag of candy. Bucky laughed when your eyes lit up, "No baby, that's for today, you can have some later." You jutted your lip out and he shook his head, "Nice try, but puppy dog eyes only work on papa."

When you accepted that, Steve spoke up, "This is a special backpack sweetness." Your brows furrowed as you looked at it, not seeing anything about it. Bucky pulled out a stretchy cord that ended in a scrunchy like bracelet. "When you put this backpack on, daddy or papa will put this on." He slid it on his wrist and tugged at the cord close to his wrist, "So you can't go wondering off like you always do." You whined loudly, "Won' run off!" Your face in Steve's neck, letting out another loud whine.

“Oh silly baby,” Steve kissed your hair, “it’s okay, you’re not in trouble for being curious, we’re just trying to protect our kitty.” You let out a heavy groan, “No, don’ wanna wear it.” You clutched to Lincoln, your chin wobbling on edge of tears. “Dollie,” Bucky said softly, stepping forwards to rub your back, “it’s dangerous when you run away from us, you forget in the pretty head to tell your daddies where you’re going and we can’t find you.” You let out a long groan in protest and stayed in the crook of Steve’s neck, Bucky’s hand still on your back, “We can stay home instead of going and seeing all the animals, would you like that better?” Your head rose and you shook your head at him, “No daddy, I’ll wear it.” Bucky felt a strain on his heart when he saw the way your pout still rested on your face. “You won’t hardly notice it baby,” he kissed your nose, “not with all the pretty animals we’re gonna see.”

When you got to the zoo, Bucky unbuckled you in the back. You always sat in the middle because that’s where you were most protected, so he had to drag you out of the car a bit. “Okay baby,” he held the backpack up, “put ‘em in there.” You just stared at him a minute, “What if I pinky p’omise to be good?” He shakes his head, “Baby, you already are good. You agreed to wear it to be safe, we can’t go in if you’re not going to be safe.”

You huffed and put your arms in it, the band already around Bucky’s wrist. “Good girl, now listen to me baby, you gotta keep your backpack on, it can’t come off or it defeats the whole purpose.” You nodded deftly, body now trained on bouncing towards the gate. As you got around more people, Steve grabbed your shoulder and bent down to your face. “Did you hear daddy baby? That backpack doesn’t come off until we are back in this parking lot or you're in one of our arms, understood?” You nodded and Steve raises his eyebrows, “Yes papa, I understand.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb before giving you a quick kiss, standing back up.

It had worked remarkably well, you’d gotten distracted by all the animals as suspected. You were pulling Bucky around everywhere, and of course with Bucky came Steve. You pulled them to the lions rather quickly, jumping up and down, changing positions all over the outside of the enclosure to see them. “Daddy!” You ran to near the end of the enclosure, stopped dead in your tracks by the leash.

Bucky chuckled, but to you it was no laughing matter. “Wha’ you doin?” You pulled on him, shaking your bag roughly, “Baby, slow down okay, we’ve got plenty of time to look at the lions.” You made an angry face at him and continued to pull at the leash, “Come on! Wanna walk wif it!” You stomped your feet until he finally caught up with you. “Dis’ is why I always look wifout you, you too slow.” Bucky ignores your comment, mainly because you grab his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, shaking his arm and pointing at the big cat, “Take it home wif us?” Steve, who stood behind you, laughed in shock, “That’s a no from me bug, come on, let’s go see what’s next.”

With his recommendation you remember that there are so many more animals at the zoo. You squeak out a high pitched okay and take off skipping. Your long legged daddies had no problem keeping up throughout the next few hours, but then you had to potty. Truth be told, you were tired of looking at the giraffes anyway.

You glanced up to your daddy, who's whispering something in Steve's ear and laughing. You tug on him, and he turns toward you, "Gotta go potty." He smiled, nodding his head, "Of course bug, thank you for telling us without trying to run off." You grumbled and started walking to the bathroom, keeping the leash taught the entire time. You started to shrug off your backpack, irritation creeping up your spine before stopping.

You turned around to Steve and Bucky, a frown plastered on your face. You waited until they were dead in front of you, you slid off the backpack and pushed it roughly into their chest, stomping away to the bathroom. Both of them stared at each other for a moment, Steve commenting lowly, "Awfully grumpy." Bucky's mind swirled, you're not one to be outrageously bratty, so when you came back out, he knelt down and grabbed your hand.

"What's going on my buggy boo? Is something bothering you? You not feeling good?" You shrugged, pulling your hand back and taking the backpack with a wobbling lip. He made a clicking noise, smiling and took the backpack from you. "How about papa wears the backpack and I'll carry you, it's about time for lunch anyway, right?" You seem to instantly relax and let Bucky balance you on his hip, kissing your cheeks.

Steve slipped on the backpack, an odd and tight fit on his body but with the straps completely loosened, it had a millimeter of wiggle room. He starts to lead the way and Bucky whistles sharply at him. Steve turns around with raised eyebrows, but Bucky is looking at you with a 'can-you-believe-him' look.

Bucky turns to Steve, grabbing the bracelet part of the backpack and sliding it on your wrist, "You can't go running off either," Bucky looks down to you, giggling into his shoulder, "isn't that right sweetness?" You nod, looking up to Steve, shaking your wrist, "Papa we gots tuh know you safe!" Steve immediately catches on to what Bucky's doing, and smacks his forehead playfully, "How silly of me, huh dovey?" You pointedly nod, a smug look on your face, "Uh-huh, now nommies please!"

You're in a much better mood being carried by your daddy, shaking the leash playfully at Steve when you sit down at the table. He slid the backpack off of his back, laying it down on the table. "I thought maybe you'd like a dum dum while we wait on Daddy to come back?" Steve was bouncing you on his knee, already popping the sucker into your mouth. You laid your head on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed while enjoying the sweet lemon in your mouth, too asleep to notice it disappearing from your mouth.

Bucky sits down with Steve, smiling at your tired form, "I told you she'd tucker herself out and we wouldn't be able to get through the whole zoo today." Steve scoffed, "You act as if she's going to be willing to leave." Bucky kissed Steve softly before planting kisses all over your face, rousing you from sleep.

As much as you don't want to be grumpy, you can't help but frowning at Bucky. He just kisses your nose and tilts his head towards the food at the table. Your eyes land on the chicken strips first and your whole body bounces at sight of the large slushy on the table. "I-Buh-'S mine?" Bucky laughs at your apprehension to breaking the rules, don't have too much sugar. "Of course baby, we thought you'd like something sweet, like yourself."

When you are done eating lunch, Bucky tries to help you put your backpack on, but you run away from him, around the table. "Nuh-uh," you cross your arms over your chest and look to Steve with puppy eyes. "Baby," he starts, coming over to you, sitting on the metal seat, "what's going on? Don't you like your new backpack?" Your bottom lip wiggles again, tears in your eyes, "'S ugly." Steve looks shocked, "Honey, you love purple, what's really going on?"

That's when the damn broke, tears falling from your face and broken sobs coming out. Steve's holding his arms around you, and Bucky's found his way to rub your back. "Shhh, dove, tell papa what's got your head going so fast." You're hiccuping, letting out broken coughs with small gags, unable to form coherent words. Bucky grabs your chin, holding your straw to your lips, "Here baby, take a drink of your slushy." Somehow you listen to him, sugar is always a good bribe for you.

"Dollie," Bucky pulls you onto his lap, "what's wrong?" His eyebrows are raised, forehead against yours, noses almost touching. He's waiting for you to regain a normal breath to press harder. He doesn't get the chance, because you start talking before he can ask again. "J-jus- 'nother reason tuh ignore me."

Bucky's heart breaks, Steve's expression matching the hurt Bucky feels deep inside him. "What on earth are you talking about honey?" Your eyes start to tear up again and Bucky scolds you gently, "No, no more of that you hear me?" You nod and let Bucky wipe away one of your stray tears. "Honey, we bought the backpack because we were so worried, not so we could ignore you. You run around and poke at everything, you forget to tell your daddies what you're doing and it scares us. You understand baby?" You shrugged and Bucky sighed, kissing your cheek. He's about to say something else when Steve picks you up from Bucky's lap.

"Bucky, put the backpack on, let's go," he's gentle about it, but you're still upset. "No! Wanna see more pets!" Steve tries to lightheartedly chuckle, but it comes out dry, "Oh dove, we're not leaving the zoo, we're just moving on." When Bucky has the backpack on he puts the leash on your wrist, just as it was when Steve wore it.

Steve catches you shaking the band around your arm, and a lightbulb goes off in his head. "You see baby?" Steve starts, and you're confused, so he continues, "You're constantly playing with it, that means your eyes are on daddy at all times." You furrow your brows, a pout still resting on your face. "Go on Bucky," Steve nods in an opposite direction, and Bucky starts walking. When the leash reaches the end of its rope, your arm is pulled until Bucky turns around to face you.

You're hesitant, eyes flickering between Steve and Bucky, "No forgettin' me?" You're looking up into Steve's eyes, swimming with love, "Dove, you're everything on our mind every second of every day. We got it so if anything happened, anyone tried talking to me or Bucky, or we argued over dark or milk chocolate, we'd never be too distracted for you." You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling closely to him.

You can feel the leash pulling on you, and it takes your attention away from Steve. Steve doesn't move his feet though, Bucky playfully moving side to side to pull at the cord around your wrist. "Papa, daddy's tryin' to run off!" You could hear Bucky laugh as Steve caught up to you. "Whatdya say we get some of that ice cream you love so much Dollie, before we go see the rest of the animals?"

You beam at Bucky, a genuine smile crossing your face that lights up your eyes. "Dippin' Dots!" You shake and dance in Steve's arms, "Lemmee down, lemme down! Dippin' Dots! Dippin' Dots! Dippin Dots!" Steve lets your feet hit the ground, and you pout a little, glancing to the backpack. Steve seems to pick up on your hesitation, "How about daddy wears the backpack, you wear the bracelet and hold my hand? That way everyone is kept together and safe?"

You happily take his hand, all wariness thrown to the wind when you started skipping. "Dollie," Bucky stops, making you and Steve stop in place. He looks stern for a minute, but then breaks into a laughing fit, pointing to the righthand turn at the intersection. "You were so excited," he kept laughing, moving you to see the stand with many balloons and a sign that says 'Dippin' Dots', "that you ran right by it!"

You take off running, Bucky and Steve quick to follow. They didn't bother trying to gently reprimand you, they didn't care if you were excited and couldn't contain yourself. In fact, they loved it, as much as they needed a way to keep track of you with the leash, they wanted a way to make sure they never miss your bubbling excitement.

When you've made it to the stand, you are tugging on Steve. He looks down to you, watching your eyes flicker to the balloons. He smiles at you, adding your favorite color balloon to the order. Once you'd all sat on a bench, he starts to tie the balloon around your free wrist but you jerk away. "Daddy," you turn to Bucky, "we switch." You starting pulling the backpack off Bucky without waiting for a response, causing him to struggle to shuffle around his dippin' dots while laughing at you.

You've safely switched who holds what, now chowing on your dippin' dots in your hand and a y/f/c balloon on your wrist. You're starting to think the backpack isn't so bad, maybe you can convince them to buy you more of the things you want if they see you so excited over them.

Or you could always pout about the backpack and get what you wanted any ways.

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lale-txt · 2 years

Note

Yes hi hello!! 👋

First of all I gotta say that I absolutely love the aesthetics of your blog?? I'm always on mobile and when I go through your tags I always notice that your color scheme and also the organization of your posts is so nice?? Honestly, your blog slaps🙌💕

As for requests... I was wondering if you could write a little something about cuddling with Yamato and/or Law? (and any other characters you want to bc I know u like them dilfs👀) Headcanons, scenario or imagine - I'm happy to read anything you write, so feel free to pick any way you want to do this :) I'm honestly just touch starved and craving something domestic and warm and maybe a bit cute😔

Anyways, have a very nice day and luv u <3

omg hi, thank you so much!! i feel very flattered, hehe. and i loved your request, i feel like i don't get to write a lot for both of them (since this is the OP dilf headquarters oops). also your username is cute 🦆 i've took the chance and added Roger to the list because why the fuck not. let's cuddle the big beefy himbo man, too. pspspspsps Roger simps pspspspsps

☁️ fluff cuddling headcanons with Law, Yamato & Roger

Law

ever tried cuddling a house cat that would hiss every time you got closer than a three meter radius?

that's Law

granted, he had his cuddly moments when he would crawl into bed late at night to you, seeking the warmth of your body under the sheets

with his face nuzzled in your neck he would hold you tight, immediately relaxing with the sound of your steady beating heart

giving up his big spoon privilege? over his cold dead body

though on days that end with Y it's fine i guess...

with you rotating like a starfish in your sleep it's impossible anyway to hold you for 8 hours straight (or 2-3 unrested hours in Law's case, have you seen those dark circles under his eyes. they're Prada)

he would play with your hair whenever you both cuddled, gently tucking it behind your ear or absentmindedly twirling it between his fingers while you both were reading on the sofa

once you gain his trust, he will be a very cuddly boy as long as you give him space... don't worry, he will come to you soon, he's a house cat after all

Yamato

Yamato, oh Yamato, my angel, my darling, my sunshine

growing up like he did, he sure is touch starved and will demand cuddles whenever you were around

he'll wrap his arms around your waist from behind when you're cooking or braid your hair while you lie in his lap, any form of physical touch is welcome with him

Yamato is strong af and his hugs can fix your bad back, really. he will crack your spine like a glow stick

doesn't care if he's the big or the little spoon, he'll flip you around like a pancake anyway in an attempt to find the comfiest cuddling position

Yamato will melt the second your wrap your arms around him, kissing his temples and forehead, telling him how much you missed him (even if you only went to the bathroom and back)

when you're chilling in bed together, i can see him using your butt as neck pillow while you lie on your stomach, playing on your Switch, just welcoming any form of closeness to you

he would spell letters on your back with his fingers for you to guess ("is it 'ODEN WAS HERE' because if so, hold up...")

maybe don't mention that his dad is kinda hot if you want to keep cuddling Yamato

Roger

forget hot water bottles and heating blankets– Roger is here

this man radiates warmth like no other and he is happy to share

his big grin whenever you crawled into his arms was worth more than all the gold treasure on the Oro Jackson

Roger isn't afraid of PDA and would casually wrap his arms around your hips no matter where you stood. he just loved to have you close (if you didn't mind him having Rayleigh in his other arm, they are inseperable)

whenever you had cold hands, he would take them in his and rub them together until they're warm again (he won't let go then though)

Roger loves cuddling you while he was lying on his back, you on top of him, your face resting against his bare chest, dozing off to the sound of his heartbeat

he would kiss your head and rub your back, letting you know that you're safe with him and that he was planning on never letting you go

whenever he held you in his big, beefy arms, the world seemed to stand still. it was a feeling of finally being home again after a long, long time

but beware, this man sleeps like a stone and you might take critical damage when you attempt to wiggle yourself out of his arms... maybe just stay there, it's heaven on earth anyway

#trafalgar law #yamato #gol d. roger #trafalgar d. water law #op yamato #trafalgar law x reader #yamato x reader #roger x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece reader insert #one piece fluff #one piece scenario #one piece imagine

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny.

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku?

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day.

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #smut #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

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