#I’m shaking like a leaf that was so stressful

[clandestinegardenias]

UPDATE: I AM ON A PLANE!!!!!! 🎉

[hyunebunx]

Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??

˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33

Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.

Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.

“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.

“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.

He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.

Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”

You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.

It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.

“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”

Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.

“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.

“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”

Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.

“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.

“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “

“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”

He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.

The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.

Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.

Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! so right now I’m currently up at 3 in the morning bc my body randomly got chills and I’m shivering like a leaf. It’s most likely due to stress and I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders or just remus where r gets chills in the middle of the night and they (or remus) cuddle her to make her warm?

Thank you for requesting lovely, hope you were able to get a decent sleep after this <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 349 words

Things are never good when you have a nightmare about your day-to-day life. 

You wake with embarrassment and anxiety in your throat, both fighting for room in the tight space, and a shudder running all the way from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It shakes you violently as though trying to rattle something loose. The thin layer of sweat coating your body only makes you colder. 

You start to scooch away from Remus on the bed, not wanting to wake him with your trembling. Unfortunately, that’s what does it. Your boyfriend’s arms wrap more securely around your stomach, a soft grumbly sound leaving him as he shoves his face into the back of your neck. 

“You’re leaving?” he asks, sleep-addled. 

You mean to reassure him, but another chill takes you, and his hand splays protectively over your middle as though to steady you. The warmth of it does help. 

“You’re shaking.” It’s not a question this time, but the confusion is still there, accompanied now by a sweet concern. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, trying again to extricate yourself from his hold. “It’s nothing, go back to sleep.” 

Remus’ grip only tightens. “‘re you cold?” he mumbles, then hums, answering his own question. “But you’re clammy. Bad dream?” 

You sigh, giving up. “Sort of. I think I’m just stressed.” 

He makes a soft pitying sound. “Oh, my love. C’mere.” 

Remus starts turning you in his arms, and you take the cue, rolling over to face him. He squishes you close to his chest, one of his long hands going underneath your top to flatten out on your back while the other cups the back of your head. Your boyfriend’s body radiates warmth. 

You loose a sigh, and he chuckles quietly. 

“Does that help?” 

“Yeah,” you admit, cozying up to him. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t,” he shushes you. He runs his hand up and down your spine a couple of times, making sure you’re all warmed up. “Wake me sooner next time, yeah? No sense in weathering it by yourself when I could help.”

[borathae]

Tenderness

"Jimin has a hard time accepting that people don't want to hurt him. Something about you makes him ease up however and because of it, he asks you to cut his hair. You help him gladly of course."

Pairing: Jimin x f.Reader

Genre: slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: Jimin has trauma, he's scared but she makes him feel at ease, like please give this man a hug, innocent skinship, also they're just friends currently but idkkk there is so much tension between them, god i'm going insane actually

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: i'm actually so sad :( also listen. the hug was inspired by the way Jimin hugs :( i fucking want a Mimi Hug no JOKE </3

You are in the back garden, pruning the roses when someone suddenly steals the sunlight from you. It had once warmed your skin. The air feels chilly in the shadows all of a sudden.

You stop working, lifting your eyes at the person.

Jimin. Dressed in a long arm shirt and flowy pants, he walked through the grass barefoot and with his long hair tied back. The fabric of his shirt is striped in black and white. He is hiding his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“You’re in my sun”, you tease.

“The sun doesn’t belong to you”, he throws backs sassily.

“I’d still prefer it if I had sunlight.”

“Too bad. I’m here now.”

You scoff in amusement, straightening up by rolling your shoulders. Such bickering is normal between you and him and amuses you these days.

“Do you wanna help me?” you offer him your second pair of pruning scissors, which he declines with a shake of his head.

“I have a, uh, favour to ask of you.”

You are working on the rose as you talk to him. He watches your movements with his eyes just slightly zoned out. 

“What’s up?” 

“Okay so, don’t laugh at me, but I talked to Tae and he said that you’re really good at cutting hair.”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody in this family wants to trust me, but I’m so good at cutting hair, like so good.”

He scoffs in amusement, reaching out to play with a rose leaf mindlessly.

“Sure you are.”

“Mh-hm, I am. Why did you ask him?”

“It’s just, I was wondering, uh, if maybe you want to do my hair.”

You stop working, studying him in surprise. You didn’t expect such a request.

“Your hair?” you make sure

Jimin nods his head. 

“Sure, uh, yeah I can. Just...why me?”

“Because you’re good, I already told you. And because Tae can’t cut hair. He thinks that he can, but he is shit at it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m not better than a professional though. Wouldn’t a stylist be better than me?”

“No, uhm.” He shies away, touching his own neck in soothing. “I’m not ready to, uhm. It’s hard for me to have strangers touch me. I, I don’t know them and, and I… uhm, they could hurt me. Uhm, it’s hard, I guess.”

“Oh”, you realise, “gosh Jimin, I’m sorry that you feel this way. I understand your feelings and I’ll gladly cut your hair.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, “see you later then. In my wing. Bye.” 

And with that, he flees, keeping his head low in embarrassment. You know that it wasn’t easy for him to share his feelings right now. He is a lot like Yoongi in that regard. Although Jimin is definitely that way because he was never truly allowed to feel. In more sense than one. Not only was he forced to keep his emotions off, he was also punished for any show of emotion which didn’t benefit his abusers. Sharing his feelings equalled being hurt to him in his past. So of course he fled the second he did it. You are still so proud of him for sharing his feelings. It means that he is healing. 

You finish garden work and take a quick shower. Knowing Jimin, he meant the evening hours when he said “later” so you don’t feel too stressed about going to him. 

After the shower, you have early dinner with Yoongi and Jungkook where you tell them that you will cut Jimin’s hair later and they show their expected surprise. When you tell them his reasons however, they react with empathy. They leave for a hunt after dinner, needing their own vampiric meals. You kiss each of them on their lips and wish them a good hunt, then you make your way upstairs to Jimin’s wing. 

He always keeps his doors locked because he feels safer this way, resulting in you having to ring his doorbell.

All of you have doorbells installed, which makes it a lot easier to visit each other. It was Taehyung’s idea and Yoongi had to be the one to install them. He did it gladly, gloating about how easy it was once it was done.

Jimin opens the door after the first ring. He is in different clothes and judging by the slight pearls of sweat on his forehead, he has been dancing. 

“Is it a good time?” you ask him.

“Yes. Come in.”

You step out of your house shoes once inside, while Jimin locks the door.

“Were you dancing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. How’s the studio?”

“Good. I love the natural light in it.”

“It’s already dark though.”

“For you, yes. Not for me. The moonlight is better than sunlight”, he says and hurries past you, “wait in the living room. I need to shower.”

“Alright, will do.”

Jimin’s living room was once a guest bedroom. The one you stayed in during your first night at the estate to be more exact. Yes, That Night where Taehyung had actually planned on eating you before you, unknowingly, managed to change his mind. 

The room once smelled of oakwood and myrrh, but smells like orange blossoms and clean wood these days. The walls changed out of their outdated grey coat into a cherry red dress. White ceilings and a decorated voute seem to practically glow next to the red and the ivory curtains give even more lightness to the otherwise warm-coloured room. The furniture is antique, but in perfect condition and throughout the room, Jimin placed vases with fresh flowers. He isn’t afraid to show his sensitive side these days. It reflects in how delicate the decorations in his wing feel.

You lie down on his sofa. Its red pillows swaddle you, inviting you to close your eyes for a while. It is so comfortable here. 

You probably would have dozed off for a post-dinner nap if Jimin hadn’t woken you again. His steps are quiet normally, but the floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked to you.

You sit up, “I’m awake.”

“Sure”, Jimin says sarcastically, eyeing the deep dent you left in his throw pillow, “just so you know, that pillow is a hundred years old and the stitching is delicate.”

“Huh? Hm?” You look at the pillow, smoothing it out. “Sorry. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we start? I wanna get it over with”, he says and leaves the room again.

With a grieving heart – a nap sounded so good – you leave the comfortable couch to follow him. 

You find him in his bathroom, sitting by the powder table in only his towel. The silver scar on his back contrasts against his black tattoos. He is tracing the entrance point of the scar on his chest mindlessly, but lifts his eyes when he senses your presence. His hand lowers, the self-disgust disappearing from his eyes. He shifts in embarrassment, clearing his throat.

Knowing him, he wants you to ignore his scar. He can’t stand it when people mention it. It is already awful enough that he has to look at it each time he undresses. 

“Anything in particular you wanna get?” you ask him as you close in on him.

“Just shave it there and give it texture on top”, Jimin says, lifting up his hair to show you his neck.

“So undercut with some length on top?”

“Yeah. It’s hot and I need air.”

“Right? It’s so hot lately. This summer is insane”, you agree, picking up the shaver, “should we go with the setting you have on?” 

“Yes. But make sure the fade is good.”

“I will, don’t worry. Is it okay for me to touch you?” 

Jimin glances at you. Surprise and gratefulness. He can’t keep up eye contact, lowering his eyes at the table as he nods his head. 

With his consent, you touch his hair. You run your fingers through it, eyeing his hands. They ball to fists at the first contact, tightening with such strength that his knuckles pale. He is scared.

“Did you practice choreography?” you ask him in hopes of distracting him.

“No I.” He clears his tightened throat. “I guess I just danced.”

“That’s nice too. I’ll shave it to up there. Is that alright?”

Jimin inspects the point you show him and nods his head. You pick up the shaver and turn it on. Jimin moves his head away when you put it close to him, flinches and moves back again.

“Sorry”, he whispers, glancing at you in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Did you change your mind?” 

“No.”

“Alright. Want a break?”

He shakes his head silently.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need it”, you say and put the shaver against his neck.

Jimin is tense during the first couple of shaves, but relaxes soon when his traumatized mind realizes that you genuinely don’t want him harm. He even opens his fists and begins playing with his bracelets mindlessly. Only around his ears, a certain stiffness returns to him and his eyes ghost over the shaver fearfully. 

So you give him a break, soothing him by tracing his ears softly. 

“Gotta clean you up”, you tell him even though both of you know that this was just an excuse to mask the gesture of comfort you give him. If you didn’t mask it, Jimin would get way too embarrassed however. 

He is tense at first. His eyes switch between your hands, your face and the shaver you put aside. 

You reach the spot right behind his ear where the harder point of his shell blends into the softness of his lobe. You rub it slowly. Jimin’s lids flutter, his head sways back just once before he fixes it again.

Another rub of the same spot and Jimin’s head rolls back again, lids closing halfway as goosebumps cover his skin. Yet another rub and he breathes so deeply that his chest lifts and sinks visibly, eyes closing for just a second before he forces them open again.

He straightens up, glancing at you in embarrassment. You act oblivious for his sake, giving his shoulders an innocent rub.

“There we go. Now you’re clean. I’ll continue.”

“Yeah. Okay”, he whispers, staring at you in the reflection of the mirror. He can’t truly make sense of the emotions in his chest and what they mean. He also can’t stop them and so he stares.

Jimin doesn’t flinch away anymore when the shaver touches him. You can finish the shaving without any more obstacles. He even stays calm when you shave him around his other ear. Only for a split second his neck tensed up, but relaxed within a breath because he felt safe more than he does troubled in your presence. 

You place the shaver on the table and use a fluffy brush to sweep away any stray hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine. He tries to cover them up as best as possible.

“Do you like the fade?” 

“Yes. It’s, uhm, it’s what I wanted”, he speaks quietly, looking at himself with sparkling eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he is gazing, too mesmerised his new look has him. 

“Nice. That’s good to hear. I’ll just do the texturing and then you’re done.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His words are honest, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Of course.” You pick up the scissors, showing them to him. “I’ll use these.”

You give him time to observe the potential danger. He nods his head in consent. You begin. He doesn’t tense because you gave him the opportunity to prepare. 

“Your hair is fun to work with. You’ve got so much of it.”

“Thanks. It’s hot during summer.”

“I can imagine. Should I take some length too?”

“Yes, please.”

You can finish the cut with no obstacles, moving on to the last step instantly. You clean him and then style him with a light mousse. He lets you with gratefulness in his eyes. Truly, he can’t stop looking at you. It is as if something about you has him captured. You don’t notice his eyes on you because you take your job as his hair stylist way too seriously and are blind to anything but his hair.

“There we go. Now you’re done. How do you like it?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes. For but a moment, your breath hitches. He never looked at you like this before. “Uh..”

Jimin clears his throat and shifts his eyes away. The air is charged between you and him, but neither tries to talk about it.

You take a step back. Jimin looks at himself for a while. His expression is stoic and if you didn’t know him better, you would think that he hates the haircut. In the end however, a small smile hushes over his lips and he nods his head.

“I like it.” 

You smile proudly.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He shimmies on the chair awkwardly, touching his new undercut.

“You can, uhm, leave now if you want to.”

“How about we clean up and then show Tae your new style?” you suggest because you know he doesn’t actually want you to leave, but thinks that you already want to.

“Yes. Okay.” He turns away to hide the giddy smile. “Do you think we can get him to watch a movie with us?”

“I think that he’ll be the one to suggest it.”

Jimin laughs. You laugh with him.

“Yeah, that actually sounds like him”, he agrees. 

“I bet he wants to watch one of his boring French movies.”

“They’re not boring, you just have no taste.”

You laugh, “no I do. His movies are like five hours long. That’s way too long.” 

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Oh honey, I do. He knows and teases me for it.” 

You and Jimin share laughter. Your eyes meet. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.

His smile drops. 

You stop laughing, feeling tight in your chest for but a second, “what’s wrong?” 

Jimin stands up and turns to you so he can close the distance.

You instinctively take a step back, but Jimin still pulls you close.

He hugs you. 

“Oh?”

Jimin hugs as if he is overcome with adoration. Jimin hugs as if he needed the other for his survival. Jimin hugs as if he thanks the universe for the other’s presence. He doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is spilling over with his honest adoration.

You didn’t expect it right now, but can’t deny that it melts you. He has one arm around your waist strongly and cradles the back of your head with his other hand, while his cheek rests on your shoulder with his face hidden in your neck. You can even see from the reflection in the mirror that he has his eyes closed. He hugs just like him. With his entire heart and soul. 

You hug him back with just as much tenderness, rubbing his back slowly. Goosebumps follow your touch. He melts into your embrace. 

“What’s that for?” you ask him quietly.

“Haircut.”

You chuckle, “do you like it that much?”

He nods his head and gives you a squeeze.

“Thank you”, he whispers. 

You know that he doesn’t only speak of the haircut. That he thanks you for giving him the space and time he needed to realise that the haircut won’t end in pain for him. You smile fondly, squeezing him back.

“Of course. You can always come to me for help.”

“I will.” He holds you so close and breathes your name. Nothing else follows. Just your name. Said with just as much heart and soul as his hug carries.

[trulyumai]

Changing Your Mind

pairing: Messmer the Impaler / Reader

Synopsis: ever worried for your husband, you bring up his behavior. only to be taken into the jaws of ambition and flames

warnings: arguing, smut(kinda)

Enjoy!

“mess?” a sleepy mumble erupted the flame out of the thoughts. war fallen memories rattled about his brain.

“mmh?” long fingers swiped across the girls face, pushing back the hair that tickled her cheeks.

“you’ve been.. ah, distant, lately,” his wife shifted, moved more into his palm as he lay beside her, form sprawled out and open.

“how so?” red brows furrowed with a tight confusion, the knight tried to recall recent moments with his dear wife, to make her assume such a silly thought.

“you come home late,” she whispered

“very late.” wide eyes stared back into his squinted ones.

confusion etched upon his features as his fingers were pushed away from the woman’s face.

never before had he felt such a burn of a touch; felt the sizzle of despair nip at his vision.

seeing his wife so worried; scared over nothing.

“ah, that’s what thou is pradling over—

“don’t. I’m being serious, Messmer,”

“As am I,” he shot back.

The woman sat up, crossed her arms over her night gown with a huff.

“now, wife, please.” He wanted to reach out— feel her soft skin against his but the fear of rejection was strong.

“are you unhappy with us… me?”

Her lip wobbled with an uncontrollable sadness, and Messmer wanted to bathe in flames once more.

“No… no! Don’t be silly, my darling,”

No longer caring, the man engulfed her form, placing both large hands upon her delicate face, circling the sides entirely.

“Please understand.. I.. I cannot say, but it’s for the good of the order, for the good of us hm?,”

She looked at him, stress sinking into her orbs.

“How can you expect me to be so complacent?”

“I expect you to trust me.” A gasp filled the air, small, but powerful enough to startle the maroon haired man.

“That’s not fair. That’s not..” huffing the girl pushed away, resisted against her husbands clingy hands.

“Please, lovely!”

Standing now she stood above the lanky form that clung onto her like a bee on honey.

His pale fingers roped their way into her gown, twisting it with persistence.

With shaking hands he tried to get her to look at him, gain her attention to his sincerity, honesty.

“I’m gonna sleep downstairs,” she mumbled, already grabbing at the wool cover that sat atop their bed.

Quick, strong fingers met her hand half way. They squeezed and pulled until she sat atop the man; looking daringly down at him.

“How dare you!”

“How dare I?” He bit back. Over this entirely, the man ignored her pushes, the shoves made upon him.

Instead he pulled her only closer, until the sweet scent of her graced his senses once more.

“Wife, listen—listen!”

Both hands caught in his giant fist, she realized it was useless to hold such a fight with the knight of flames.

So her form slumped, granting him the victory that he sook persistently.

“I’ve don’t nothing to dishonor thou— I swear in mine own honor— my heart, my life.”

Messmer shook with a new fear; he didn’t want to displease her, say the wrong thing to have her leaving him again.

“I— I,”

How weak the flame must have looked.

How shameful it must be, to be on the brink of tears, in front of your own wife, shaking like a leaf upon the ground.

Seeing how emotional her husband had gotten, she sighed.

It was never her wishes to upset him so.

She was worried; stressed that her flame was in trouble with the capital. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’m sorry.”

Messmers shoulders were soon covered by her arms, they wrapped tightly, warmly around his bulging frame.

“No I—hah, I’m sorry, dear wife. It seems I’m no good with mine own words.” A chuckle left his tensed lips, holding no humor, only a deep tone with drifting eyes.

“That’s okay, makes two of us, mmh?” Her skin; so soft against his own.

Her forehead bumped against his, with Messmers nose brushing against her smaller one.

“You’re not mad?” His voice, barely above a whisper met with her ears.

His wife shook her head adoringly, hair sweeping her face side to side.

He smiled, the ball of stress that had crossed its way in the expansion of his chest dissipated. He could breathe normally without a thick pain shooting out.

“I just love you, I worry, you see.”

A deep laugh sounded out, this one held a bit of humor to it.

“Darling, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Your husband is strong, you know.”

“Oh hush,” she giggled, pushing against the man with a light touch.

The bed creaked out as Messmer sat back.

Now lying down he could admire his wife in the shadows of the moonlight.

How it lit up her features perfectly.

Those soft eyes

The flowing hair that reached down her back

To the perfect shape and curves that made up her body.

All his to worship and glorify until the end of days.

He shuddered, already feeling hot from the lust that overcame him easily.

His wife was no fool. She saw the way he obsessed over every crevice of her form that lay on him, as she caressed and smoothed over every scar, every raised bump on his skin.

How he shamefully inched his fingertips down, down, and—

“Wife,” he groaned.

“Let me have you, please.”

To have such a man before you, begging to make love to you was a power trip no one could imagine.

It made her stomach wind up in a coil; hot and tight enough for her legs to squeeze out in protest.

“Please,” he called out again, already sitting up to dig his nose into her neck.

Kissing and licking the skin around her shoulder.

“Yea— ah, yes, please.”

With her head tilted back, messmers hips bucked forward, earning a high pitched moan to erupt from the beauty before him.

“I will have you,” a kiss upon her chest

A bite upon her stomach.

“I’ll consume you, until all is mine. Over, and over again.”

A moan escaped her closed lips, as the knights fingers found their way to her exposed mound, already seeking the warm center.

The bickering was forgotten; for the flame and his darling wife had found a new reason to occupy their minds.

And cease the ever rising stresses that eased upon the lands.

————•————•————

A/N:

Dude yet again distracts her from the tensions building up in the capital.

Poor girl has no ideaaaaaaaaaaa. But I don’t blame her, big scary man is easy to be distracted by. Also?? bro cannot stand the thought of her being upset at him, what a chuuuump hehehhe

[princessbrunette]

deer!reader gets the zoomies and pope's trying to calm her down? ♡

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

“oh my god, please get into bed.” pope chuckles, watching you from where he lays, a hand resting behind his head. you were wired up, pacing the room at the foot of his bed in your pyjamas. he’d taken you on one of the infamous pogue missions today, getting into all kinds of drama. pope had been stressed, hating that you could get into any kind of trouble. he did the best he could to keep you safe, as did the other pogues — in mutual understanding that you were a sweetheart who was not to be corrupted.

you’d been quiet throughout everything, all wide eyed and curious even through the dangerous parts. pope couldn’t gage you, half expecting you to burst into tears from all the commotion of the day as soon as he got you back through the door — but to his total surprise you were off like a rocket, rambling excitedly and grinning ear to ear.

“it was like— it was like this one scene from my book! i’ve never felt adrenaline like that before pope it was just— wow! and — and the way jj punched that guy in the face! he’s insane! and the way kie told that guy to shutup, like woah!” you squeal, twirling about excitedly as your boyfriend shakes his head calmly, used to the pogues shenanigans.

“yep, they’re all crazy. what’s gonna get you over here, huh?” he smiles lazily and you pause breathlessly in your tracks.

“not sure. i just feel so excited right now, popey.” you smile honestly and he sits up at the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him. reluctantly, you skip over— sitting right up by his side, looking at him expectedly with those wide curious eyes.

“look, i’m gonna be honest— i was stressed today. the most important thing to me, is keeping you safe, aaaand — that? that was far from safe. i’m glad you had fun, but i can’t in good conscience let you tag along to anymore pogue missions. okay?” his forehead crinkles as he knits his brows, watching your face fall a little, pensive.

unsurprisingly, you do as your told with little resistance. “mm, okay. but can you tell me more about your adventures? i wanna know.”

“mhm.” he loops a strong arm round the back of your neck to draw you in for quick kiss, a silent testament to how adorable he thought you were in the moment. “but tomorrow. not while i’m trying to get you to calm down.” he smiles, to let you know he’s not scolding you.

“fair.” you smile and he tilts his head, staring at you whilst he thinks.

“at the risk of sounding gross and vulgar, i do know one thing that usually gets you to calm down pretty quickly.”

your back straightens a little, perking up the same way a deer would after hearing a leaf crunch in the distance. “what’s that?” you question energetically, and instead of answering you — pope brings you in for another slow kiss, gently laying you back on the bed.

“well, it involves me being knuckles deep inside you. can’t give you any more clues though, i’m afraid.”

just like that, your brains mush. if pope had his methods to calm you down, who were you to intervene with such brilliance?

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

[littlespacereader]

I haven’t regressed for a while because you know, life sometimes gets in the way. But I finally got a moment after class to have the rest of the evening off and just regress. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to regress after a stressful day at college. Then I literally was two second into a Blue’s Clues episode with Steve and suddenly I’m a baby😂 Steve just had the magic touch🥹💞

I felt inspired to write a cute fic with him and a little reader. I’m actually thinking of making a mini series of fics with a little reader in a kids show. What do you think? Would you guys like something like that? Let me know😄

So please enjoy another “side quest fic” I didn’t plan on writing😂💞

Looking for Blue’s Clues🐾

Caregiver!Steve Burns & GN Little!Reader

Tags - scavenger hunt, Steve is the most gentle and patient CG ever, hand holding, hugs

I held my head up high as I walked through the woods, stuffie in hand, backpack on my shoulders, wandering around on my own little adventure. I needed this, just some time away from the busy and hectic working world. I just needed some time outdoors to regress in peace.

And that’s what I did. All my supplies shoved into my backpack, my favorite stuffie in hand, I am ready to go! I started on a trail, following the winding trail through the thick woods. I’ve been on this trail before, it’s calm, quiet and peaceful. Perfect for a regression day.

As I kept walking I noticed something with my usual trail. The trail split into two pathways. One, the usual path, went right and down towards a river. But now there’s a left path, a path that’s never existed before. Maybe the parks department decided to make a new path for everyone?

There was something deep down inside of me that filled with excitement for the new adventure. I looked to my stuffie in hand, “What do you think (stuffie name)?”

Though they didn’t outright say it, I knew my stuffie wanted me to go forward towards the adventure.

“You’re so right! New trail it is!”

The path wasn’t very different than the other trail, though it did go deeper into the woods. But there was a clearing up ahead, I could see there was a colorful neighborhood with a yellow house.

A blue dog ran infront of me, stopping me in my tracks. She began talking to me before she skipped away. I smiled to myself, a blue dog?! That’s a first!

Suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I spotted something. On one of the tall trees next to me is a blue paw print. I walked over and looked at the print and smiled. Why would there be a blue paw print here? Did that dog leave it behind?

“A clue!”

I quickly turned around to be greeted by a man in a stripped green shirt. He smiled, happy to see me as if he knew me his whole life.

“You found a clue!”

“A clue?” I pointed to the blue print.

“A blue’s clue! Great job! You’re very smart.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you, but I wasn’t even trying.”

“You weren’t trying to find blue’s clue and you found it anyway? You’re better at this than me! Wow!” Again, the stranger glowed with praise.

“I’m Steve, it’s so nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” I gladly shook his hand.

“Now that we have our first clue, we gotta put it in our handy dandy notebook!” Steve pulled out his notebook from his back pocket, popping the crayon out from the top and flipping to the first page.

He stood along side me so I could see what he was drawing. “So our first clue is a tree. We’ll start with two big lines for the trunk of the tree, then we’ll draw smaller lines on the top for the branches, then we’ll make this curly lines for the leafs at the top of the tree. There, a tree.” He looked up from his drawing to smile back at me.

“Our first clue is a tree. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree?” He asked me.

I began thinking of all the possibilities a tree could mean. What does his dog want to do tonight? “Maybe she wants to play fetch with one of the branches of the tree?”

Steve hummed in agreement, “Good idea, maybe she does watch to play fetch. But we have to find the other clues to be sure.”

I nod my head in agreement but I can’t help but ask. “How many clues are there?”

“There are three clues. Once we find all three clues we sit in our thinking chair and think, think, think. Because when we use our minds, we take a step out of time and we can do anything that we want to do.” His smile is utterly contagious because I smile just as big as him.

“I’m really going to need your help to find the other two clues. Will you help me find them?”

“Yeah!” I practically jump saying.

“Really? Thank you! You’re the best! Now, this second clue must be around here somewhere…Lets go this way.” He hold his hand out to me as a silent offer.

I appreciate him not being pushy or just grabbing my hand. It was an invitation if I wanted it, so I took his hand in mine. Together we walked to the yellow house I saw earlier.

Steve opened the door and lead the way into his house. It’s beautiful with its peach tone wallpaper and big red chair in the living room.

“That’s the thinking chair,” Steve pointed out, “Once we’ve got all three clues we’ll sit there and think.”

Then it was off to the kitchen to further find a clue. Inside on the counter top is a family different spices.

“Y/N,” he squeezed my hand, “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and their children Cinnamon and Paprika.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as the Salt and Pepper shaker waved and talked to me.

“Bonjour Y/N! Welcome to our home!” Mr. Salt waved.

“So wonderful to have you here.” Mrs. Pepper added.

“So nice to meet you both.” I smiled back.

But then my eyes caught it, across the kitchen on another counter top sat a bag of marshmallows. And on the bag? A big blue paw print!

“Steve! A clue! A clue!!” I squeezed his hand back and was jumping out and down.

“The flu? You don’t look sick to me. Here let me check.” He held his hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a temperature.”

I couldn’t help but giggle to Steve. “No! A clue! Over there!” I pointed to the paw print.

Steve gasped and quickly the two of us ran over to the bag of marshmallows. “So our second clue is…marshmallows. You know what we gotta do. We gotta put this clue in our handy dandy…”

“Notebook!”

“That’s right! Our notebook! Now, a marshmallow. We’ll make two round lines on the side and an oval on the top. At the bottom we’ll make half a circle to connect the sides. There! A marshmallow! But what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree and a marshmallow?”

The two of us stopped and started to think about the clues. There were pretty different from one another. It would be hard to tell what they meant together.

“Maybe she wants to play fetch then eat some marshmallows?” I suggested.

Steve gasped and nodded his head, “Maybe! But I think we should find our last clue before we decide.” I nodded in agreement.

Mail time, mail time mmmmaaaaaiiilllll ttttiiimmmmeeee

“Oh! The mail is here!” Steve grabbed my hand and together we ran into the living room. Blue and him started dancing around happy for the mails arrival. After a minute I started to join in the fun.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails. It makes me want to wag my tail. When it comes I want to wail, MMMMMAAAAAIIIIILLLLL!!!”

Steve plopped down into his thinking chair and held his hand out for me to sit as well. “You’re more than welcome to sit on my lap or on the arm of the chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you Y/N.”

After a moment of consideration, I chose to sit on the arm of the chair next to Steve. The mailbox stretched into the room and over to our chair. “Mails here! Mails here!”

“Mailbox! I’d like you to meet my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Mailbox.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to the purple mailbox.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Infact this letter is for you.”

“It’s for me?”

“Yup! Here you go!” Mailbox opens his lid and Steve grabbed the letter for me.

“We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from.” He went to open the letter but paused and looked to me. “Y/N this is your mail. Would you rather open it or would you like me to?”

“Could you open and read it?” I asked a bit shy. But Steve brought me back to feeling comfortable with his warm smile and nod.

“Of course I can. Now let’s see, oh! It appears that this letter is from a (stuffie name here).”

I gasped and looked down at my stuffie. “It’s from (stuffie name here)?!”

“Uh-huh. That what it says. The letter goes,

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for always taking such great care of me. Thank you for always coming to me whenever you need extra love and comfort. Always know I will forever be with you even when you have to go to school or work. There’s always a piece of me inside of you just as there a piece of you inside of me.

Love you always,

(Stuffie name).”

Tears started to fall down from my eyes as I looked at my stuffie in hand. They looked back up at me with a smile and a wink.

“What a beautiful letter! Your stuffie is very grateful for you Y/N, just as I’m sure you are for them. Oh, I don’t think we were introduced. It’s nice to meet you (stuffie name).” Steve leaned over and shook the stuffie’s (hand, paw, fin, ect.)

“They said it’s nice to meet you too.” I add back to Steve, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I hum in agreement. “My stuffie was just so nice.”

“They seem great! You’re perfectly matched because you’re great and they’re great too.” Steve smiled. “Now, would you like to take a moment here or would you like to go find the last clue?”

“The last clue!!”

“Alright!” He stood up and offered his hand again. I jumped off the chair and took his hand in mine again. “Off we go looking for clues…but ummm…where do you think we should go?”

I looked outside and saw the sunsetting. It might be nice to get some fresh air again. “Maybe outside?” I offered.

“Great idea! Follow me.” Steve led the way as we ventured back outside.

Outside we started to walk around the town. Steve showed me the eye doctor where Blue’s friend Magenta got her new glasses, then there was the present shop where his brother Joe works and another house down the block where his cousin Josh lives. The town seemed so nice and peaceful.

Since we didn’t see anymore of Blue’s clues we ventured back to Steve’s house and into the back yard. There it seemed all of his friends were handing out around a picnic blanket, tree and a fire pit. WAIT A MINUTE! THE FIRE PIT!

“Steve!! A clue!! Another clue!!” I pointed out again.

“Really?! Where?”

“There by the fire pit! The final clue!”

Steve gasped and looked at the fire pit. There, at the base of it was the clue.

“A clue!! Our final clue! And it’s on the fire pit. You know where we need to put this, in our handy dandy…”

“NOTEBOOK!”

Steve grabbed his notebook from his back pocket and began drawing. “So our last clue is…a fire pit. We’ll start by making a cylinder for the fire pit. Then spark points for the fire inside of it. There, a fire pit!”

He closed the notebook then looked at me just as excited. “We have all three clues! We have to sit in our-.”

“Think chair!!”

“Yes! Come on!”

The two of us raced back inside the house and over to the thinking chair. Steve sat in his usual spot and I opted for the arm of the chair again. Blue ran over and joined us, to see if we got it right.

“So now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner? What’s our first clue?”

“A tree.”

“That’s right! A branch! Good job remembering. So our first clue is a branch. But what was our second?”

“Marshmallows!”

“You’re right it’s marshmallows! You have an amazing memory.” He smiled.

“Finally our last clue is a fire pit. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner, with a tree, marshmallows and a fire pit?”

The two of sat in the chair together and think, think, think. They did seem random at first but they meant to go together. Then suddenly it hit me!

“Steve! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!!”

“What is it Y/N?”

“Blue wants to use the wood from the tree to make a fire so that she can roast marshmallows!”

Steve’s face lights up to the idea. He looks to Blue who start jumping around the room happily. “You did it Y/N! You figure out Blue’s Clues!”

Steve jumps up and put his arms open to me. I immediately run into them, getting a big hug from him. “You are so smart! I am so proud of you!”

Tears build up in my eyes hearing the admission. He’s treated me so sweet for hardly knowing me. I haven’t felt this safe and happy in such a long time.

“Come on, let’s go outside and get ourselves a marshmallow.” Steve says as we break apart.

The two of us join the rest of the neighborhood outside to roast some marshmallows. There I meet Joe and Josh as well as the rest of the family including Magenta, Sidetable, and more.

I sat next to Steve as the evening turned to night. We looked up at the stars above as we ate our marshmallows.

“You know, you could stay if you wanted?” Steve said after a moment. I looked at him shocked at first. “It’s just that, you did such a good job finding all the clues. And Blue and I loved having you here. Plus, I could look after you and show you the rest of the town and-.”

He stopped himself. “Sorry, what I’m trying to say is. If you like to stay you’re more than welcome to. I’d love to have you here. And before you say anything, I don’t mind your regression. I’d love to help take care of you and maybe even possible be your Caregiver. So what do you think?”

I immediately began to tear up again. “I’d love to stay and I’d love to have you as my Caregiver.”

Steve’s nervousness turned immediately to happiness as he put his arms out again. I didn’t waste any time as I joined him in a hug.

“I’m so happy to hear that Y/N. I think you’re going to be the best person for this town. I couldn’t be more happy to have you here Y/N.” Steve added as we broke apart.

“I couldn’t be more happy to be here.” I smiled back.

[thecapricunt1616]

NURSE!!! NURSE!!! SHE BROKE OUT OF HER CAGE TO POST MORE- Dad!Carmy brainrot for you all 😉🫶

— so I Imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night, you’re heavily pregnant with your third. His Apple Watch thankfully woke him (you’d be worried for him to get a call so late). He gets up without waking you going into the living room and answering to hear your teen daughters watery voice at the end of the line and she’s all “Daddy promise you won’t be mad at me” (more below)

He’s immediately grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes and brown plaid coat that he’s had longer than she’d been alive, or then he’d even been knowing you for that matter - his heart thumping in his chest and throat tightening. “Sweetheart why aren’t you home right now?! are you safe? Tell me wha’s wrong- what happened- I won’t be upset honey” he assured her, his stomach clenching at the thought of her hurt.

“P-paisley wanted me to go t’this party with her and - and the police came daddy and she left me there alone- and I got arrested. Come get me I don’t wanna die in hereeee” she sobbed dramatically. He sighed gratefully, starting the car.

“You aren’t going to die princess. Give me 20 minutes mm? And we can talk ‘bout y’punishment w’mommy t’morrow” he said and she huffs

“You’re gonna snitch on me T’mommy?! Daddy you’re being so unfair! “ she whined

He chuckled a bit, “I’m bein’ very fair. I love you babygirl I’ll s’ya soon” he said and hung up. He knew if he’d have woken you, you would have freaked out and panicked at the thought of your little girl drunk and scared and alone. Considering how far along you were currently the stress could most definitely cause early labor and he did not want to deal with that tonight.

He’d make it to the police station fast bc ofc when he was picking a home for his family it would be super close to one for safety reasons and when he walked in and saw his baby sitting in a holding cell with other adults being held on misdemeanor charges, his heart would break.

She would be curled into herself on the bench, knees flush to her chest hugging herself, cheeks tear stained, big blue doe-like eyes puffy and red with thick tears that were still falling. He wanted to pick her up like she was 2 again - even though the top of her head hit his shoulder now, and cradle her like the baby he couldn’t help but see any time he looked at her.

“Oh princess” he said softly and she looks up, quickly standing up and she couldn’t help but burst in to sobs as relief washed over her when she finally saw her dad, who had never let her down from the day she was born - he was always there for her, as were you, but Carmy was always softer on the kids then you were because his dad never showed any of his siblings softness, so he wanted to be sure the kids always trusted him in that way

“Daddy you came! I’m so scared please please I’ll never do it again please get me out of here dad I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry daddy” she broke down and he felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes he could only swallow back because they were in public.

“You- hey-“ he snaps his fingers and the cop standing outside the holding cell door finally acknowledges him “I’m her fuckin father- let ‘er out. Now.” He said annoyed with the man’s lack of attention for his own job.

“She’s unable to be released until her fine is paid” he said and shrugged “it’s the law”

Carmen dug the stupid reciept paper he’d shoved in his pocket that he’d paid the front clerk when he got here, pushing it to his chest “open the fucking door, jagoff. Shes 16 the fuck is wrong with you she’s a baby” he said angrier, voice getting louder.

“Sir I’m gonna need you to calm down.” He said and Carmen rolled his eyes, 2 words he hated hearing even more than anything when put together.

“Look at the fucking paper. And let my daughter go” he snapped, holding his baby’s hand through the bars gently and rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles, she was shaking like a leaf.

“Mmm” the man grumbled, opening up the door and she rushed into Carmen’s arms. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, wrapping her in a tight bear hug.

“Y’never allowed t’scare me like that again angel girl” he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her scent that he could pick out even in his sleep as his baby girl.

“I’m sorry daddy I’m so so sorry” she mumbled over and over, tears soaking his shirt. He hushed her how he did when she was just a baby and rubbed her back soothingly.

“S’okay babygirl I think y’learned y’lesson mm? Y’think you wanna go out drinkin again before y’21?” He teased lightly and she sniffled, shaking her head lightly. He didn’t care that she was getting snot all over him, or that she was staining one of his near $80 white shirts with her mascara and eyeliner she’d gotten with a Ulta gift card ‘Santa’ had gotten her, since Carmen couldn’t bare the fact his baby girl was growing up.

“No- no daddy I promise. I promise I’ll never do it ever again. Please don’t tell mommy” she pleads and looks up at him with big watery eyes. He carefully thumbed away the large rings of black under her eyes and cups her face tenderly.

“Sweetheart I am not in control of what mommy does. You know this, and I can’t lie to mommy. Are you asking me t’lie t’mommy? M’already riskin’ my spot in bed by not waking her up t’tell her ‘bout this” He asked sternly, she knew that lies were a big boundary in your family - they just hurt people unless they were ‘happy lies’ aka surprises like gifts or sweet things, but withholding information from each other in fear of making someone upset was a big no no in your house.

She huffed annoyed, lip quivering and she nuzzled back into his chest “unfair. Mommy is gonna ground me forever” she whined.

“Mm - maybe she should ground you. What the hell is this outfit? She’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this, y’gonna get sick” he tells her. She was in nothing but a tank top dress, flimsy nylons, and a half cardigan. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders as they walk out to the car, of course he couldn’t care less about freezing his ass off because his baby needed to be warm even if it was a short walk to his SUV.

“It’s cute dad and m’not gonna get sick! All the girls were wearing dresses like this!” She snapped sassily as she buckled in.

“Mm cute - sure pumpkin. What were you even doin’ - what party was worth the rage of y’mother? Especially when you know she’s been in a mood lately” he asked. A mood was what he called it, you were really just overly hormonal and sore and giving birth within the next 14 days, so everything was ticking you off

“Hally Hawkins party dad. Only the coolest senior at school!! If I was the only one who wasn’t there how was I supposed to ever find a date to the winter ball next month?!” She huffed, crossing her arms

“Date?!” His eyes widen “since when did we say you could date?!” He asked quickly “you aren’t dating you- you can’t date until you’re married!” He said seriously to which she just giggled

“How am I supposed to get married if I don’t date daddy! I’m 16 now! I’m getting my license soon! I should be able to hold hands with a boy I like-“

“Hold hands?!” He exclaims “who the hell is holdin’ y’hand? No- no. No! I’m the only man that holds y’hand and it’s to help you across the street” he grips the steering wheel tighter “y’too little” he said and she whines

“Daddy I’m not little! I’m 16! You promised to stop calling me little” she pushes his hand away at a stoplight when he goes to fix the strap of her dress out of habit “daaaad!!!” She whines and he huffs

“Quit all the whinin’! Y’little as long as y’live w’me and that means that y’not dating and y’not holding hands” he pulls into your driveway, turning the lights off before as to not wake you. “And quiet comin inside- if you wake y’sister mommy is gonna be upset she’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’ “ he opened her door, taking her purse and helping her out of the car.

“Is this mommy’s?” He holds up the purse and she takes it from him, holding it to her chest defensively.

“She never wears it anymore what- are you gonna snitch?! If you do I’ll tell her about you eating all her ice cream” she teased and headed to the door

He gasped, “you wouldn’t dare- you’d sell out y’own father?! After he just went and picked y’ass up outta the slammer. Maybe I shoulda let you stay there eh’? A night in jail may teach you some manners missy” he jokes as he unlocks the door, not seeing the kitchen light on.

“Where were you!” You were stood at the end of the hallway, fluffy robe and slippers on, hand over your bump as you stood there while nervously pacing. Carmy and your Daughter give eachother the we’ve been caught look before Carmy looks at you, as you narrow your eyes at your daughters arm adorning a very familiar looking black bag.

“Is that- red lipstick…and my purse?!”

[multifandomfanficss]

A Pretty Damn Good Solution

Egon Spengler x Reader

Prompt: When Egon finds out you’ve been having nightmares all week, he decides to find a way to help you by conducting a sleep study.

Warnings: Nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, and insomnia.

A/N: This is GN!Reader with no pronouns specified. The Egon brainrot is so real so please enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent fic I wrote to the cope with my work stress induced nightmares. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

You woke up breathing heavy, in a cold sweat. You hear quick, clumsy footsteps running through the hallway of the firehouse. At first you’re confused. You’re still out of it and you’re scared. Suddenly Egon is busting through your doorway. His glasses are crooked, his pj shirt is buttoned incorrectly, the buttons not matching the holes. He has a proton pack slung over his back. He must have been in a hurry to get to you.

“Are you okay?! I heard you scream.” He looks at you with confusion. “I thought one of the ghosts had breached the containment unit.”

“I’m sorry. I just had a nightmare.” You apologize, still trying to collect yourself. You’re shaking like a leaf.

“Oh.” He looks at you sadly, taking off his proton pack. He sits on the bed, straightening out his glasses. The bed dips, shifting you towards him.

“I apologize for my appearance and demeanor. I was under the impression you were in danger.” He looks down at his shirt, fixing his buttons.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” You say, sheepishly.

“No, don’t be.” He draws out the o on the no, speaking softly, inflecting his tone upwards to try to bring you comfort. He gives you a soft smile, to match his tone.

You sit in silence for a few minutes. Egon isn’t quite sure what to say, but you don’t mind. Despite his awkwardness, he was still deeply comforting.

“I forgot to ask. Are you okay?” He breaks the silence.

“Not really. I’ve been having nightmares all week.” You begin to fidget with a string on your blanket.

“(Y/N), why didn’t you say something?” He asks.

“I didn’t wanna bother anyone.” You shrug your shoulders.

“You’re living in a building with several scientists who care about your well being. I assure you that you wouldn’t be bothering us. We could have helped you. You should have at the very least spoken to Peter. His concentration is psychology.” Egon tried not to lecture you, but he was confused as to why you were suffering alone instead of asking for help. He didn’t like to see you in pain.

“I guess I thought I should be able to deal with it on my own.” You avoid eye contact. Egon finally puts the pieces together. It wasn’t always easy for him to read social que’s, but he could read his friends easily enough.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Everyone has nightmares. They could be caused by a number of reasons. Typically mine are caused by stress, but I’ve since figured out how to get a handle on them through scientific means. Where they used to be constant, they’re now more rare for me.” He sympathizes.

“I didn’t know you had nightmares like that. I’m sorry.” You respond.

“They’re handled.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “I believe it would be beneficial for me to conduct a sleep study on you starting tomorrow night, with your consent of course.”

“Do you really think it’ll help?” You look at him, desperate for an answer to your problem.

“Yes. I’ll have everything ready tomorrow night, but do you need anything before I go?” He asks.

“Can I please have a hug?” You request. Usually you’d be embarrassed, but right now you didn’t care. Egon had been the greatest comfort you’d had in the last several nights.

“Of course.” He smiles, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. The hug is awkward at first, but you both relax into it. He’s warm and his pajama shirt is soft. While Egon’s presence is always calming, his steady breathing and heartbeat do wonders to bring you back to a more relaxed state. He begins to rub your back. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and just remember you’re not alone.”

————————————————————————

The next night you’d shown up to Egon’s lab as requested. You’re surprised to see he’s set up a cot with your favorite blankets and pillows. He was nothing if not observant.

“I gathered some things from your room in an effort to make you more comfortable.” He speaks, walking around the room, pressing buttons and moving things around.

“Thank you.” You smile. You sit down on the bed and Egon begins to fit wires to your forhead.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your chest.

“Um yes- yeah uh that’s okay.” You blush. Egon moves your shirt over and attaches wires over your heart. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Of course. It’s no problem, really. Do you need anything before you go to sleep? Can I get you a glass of water?” He asks.

“No, but can you explain how it’s gonna work again?” You lay down, attempting to get comfortable.

“While you’re asleep I should be able to see any changes in heart rate, breathing patterns, or brainwave activity. I can collect all the data I need and all you have to do is sleep.” He explains.

“Seems simple enough.” You give him a smile, despite your nerves.

Egon leaves the observation area and the lights dim. You close your eyes and fall asleep.

About 2 hours into the study Egon starts to notice a rapid elevation in heart rate and your breathing becomes heavier and inconsistent. He scribbled down notes, watching your brainwave patterns until you shoot up gasping. You start to pull at the wires attached to you, not remembering why they’re there. Egon enters the room with his journal and pen in hand. He approaches your bed.

“You’re okay. You’re in my lab, remember? I have to say that was quite interesting. How long did it feel like you were stuck in that nightmare?” He asks.

“Uh I- I don’t know, like hours?” You debate, trying to catch your breath.

“You were asleep for about 2 hours, but you only entered REM state about 15 minutes ago, which is when you started dreaming.” He takes down more notes.

“Only 15 minutes?” You ask, your voice and body shakey. Egon pulls a chair up to sit next to you. He lays his journal on your bed and takes your hand in his. He begins to feel your pulse. You instantly start to calm by his touch. He’s observant of this. He decides to keep holding your hand even after he’s done checking your pulse in an effort to keep you calm. He writes with one hand and holds your hand with the other.

“Can you tell me a bit about the dream?” He asks.

“I was alone in the firehouse and the containment unit broke and I was being chased by a demon. I woke myself up before it caught me.” He gives you a look. On one hand he feels bad that you were so scared, but on the other hand he’s intrigued.

“How did you wake yourself up?” He asks.

“I have like this thing I do if I need to escape a dream. I feel like I’m pushing and pulling and clawing my way out of reality, like I’m trying to swim through molasses until I wake up.” You tell him.

“That’s amazing. From my end your adrenaline spiked enormously. I didn’t realize you were doing that on purpose.” He scribbles down some more notes.

“Yeah. I guess that’s a thing I do.” You say awkwardly. “Did you get anything useful?” You ask.

“Yes, but I’ll have to run more tests throughout the week.” He closes his journal, turning to you. He realizes he’s still holding your hand. He doesn’t let go. He was so excited by the scientific aspects of the experiment he forgot why he was doing this in the first place. “We’re going to figure this out, but until then I’m here.” He smiles at you, giving you a look of sympathy.

————————————————————————

The next two nights went similarly to the first one. You would have nightmare and Egon would remind you everything was okay before sitting down next to you to take notes as you recounted the dream. Your dreams were often about being chased or not being able to save someone. You would usually use your emergency escape out of your dreams. Talking about your dreams helped. It gave you an outlet and it aided Egon’s studies. The two of you had fallen into a routine and it was starting to help.

Tonight was different. Egon watched as your heart rate spiked and your breathing patterns began to change. Your brain activity was off the charts. He knew you’d be up soon. He watched as you tried and failed to pull the emergency break. You begin to thrash in bed. He wonders why you haven’t woken up. He enters the room just in time for you to shoot up screaming and covered in sweat. You begin to hyperventilate, crying out. “Egon!” You cry for him. Tears start to stream down your face. He runs to your bed.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here. Everything is okay, (Y/N).” Egon tries to keep his voice calm, but he speaks with urgency. He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to ground you. You can’t get your breathing under control.

“I- I couldn’t get out! I couldn’t get out! I was stuck and I couldn’t get out!” You’re speaking a mile a minute.

“(Y/N), look at me. You’re awake now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you. I need you to try to breathe with me. (Y/N), what’s three things that you can see?” He asks, trying to bring your focus back to reality.

“I can’t” You sob, unable to focus.

“Yes, you can. What’s three things you can see?” He repeats.

“I see your journal. It’s in the chair.” You try.

“Good that’s two things.” He smiles.

“Your pen is on the floor.” You continue.

“I dropped it when I rushed in to check on you. What’s two things you can hear?” He asks.

“The clock is ticking really loudly and- and I can hear… the heater is on.” You tell him, listening closely.

“Good. What’s one thing you can touch?” He asks.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, hesitantly.

“Yes, thank you for asking.” He smiles. You grab his hand, beginning to trace all the lines and wrinkles on it. You learn every detail of his fingerprints. Tracing the indents and following the patterns comforts you.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” He asks.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just having one of those moments where it’s hard to tell what’s real and what‘s fake. I woke up from a nightmare, but it was just another nightmare. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dream inside of a dream before. I thought that was just in movies.” You keep tracing his hand.

“No, it’s real unfortunately, but so am I and so are you. This is real.” He gestures between you. Part of himself means that the two of you are real and your interaction is real, but another part of him meant something different. The care you have for each other is real too, very real.

“I hate that I’m still tired. I don’t wanna go back to sleep, but I know I have to.” You sigh.

“Would it make you feel better if I stayed in here with you?” He asks. While he’d usually be too awkward to ask this, his solution is based in science. All of his research points to his presence being a comfort. This gave him more confidence.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You hope you’re not being an inconvenience.

“If I minded I wouldn’t have offered. I want you to feel like you’re not alone.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

“I think that would help me a lot actually.” You start to shift, laying back down in bed. Egon gets up to turn the light back off, kicking off his shoes and lab coat before getting back into bed with you.

“I figured it might.” He smiles. He always loved when his scientific theories were proven right, especially one that benefited both of you so much. It brought both of you comfort to be in each other’s arms. Egon’s presence was enough for you to sleep soundly for the rest of the night and he was happy to know that you felt safe and calm. Even if it was only a temporary solution to your problems, it was still a pretty damn good solution.

“Goodnight, Egon.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

[that-hazbin]

With your reblog of the What-If scenario where Alastor’s mom is a kinda bad mom, I am now picturing a combination of that What-If with your Blackout AU. I mean, not having any parental affection growing up in combination with a father who is so physically abusive he beat his wife to death, and then living through the early 1900’s in New Orleans as a mixed race man—is it any wonder his brain decided to “nope” out of super stressful situations?

And in the scenario where Alastor’s mom and Alastor reunite in Hell, what if she finds out about the blackouts and the fact that Alastor did not know what landed him in Hell?? I’m just picturing it as being a bad time for everyone involved, like that has some serious angst potential.

God that would genuinely be so, so messed up.

Alastor's lack of love during his formative years would honestly not even be the worst of his trauma, but damn did it have permanent consequences. Honestly it would be a good explanation for why his relationship with Mimzy is the way it is— he's so used to loving without being loved in return, and therefore has 0 problems with being used by the people he loves. He's just a bag of Horrific Brain Issues.

I think Alastor's mom would still go to heaven. She may not have loved Alastor, and as a result was a pretty bad mom, but she wasn't a bad person. She still did her best. Honestly speaking, Alastor mostly doesn't blame her for not loving him specifically because he knew her own circumstances were absolutely abysmal. His dad was a wife-beating scumbag and Alastor was a product of rape. As far as Alastor is concerned, his mother was a fucking saint just for not hating his existence on principle. She stuck around and tried her best.

(Of course, he knows she's thought horrible things in moments of weakness. She once stood over his bed with a pillow in her hands when he was seven. It was a bad night, one of her eyes were swollen shut, tears running down her face... Alastor pretended to sleep, silently watching her in the mirror. She stood there for an hour, shaking like a leaf, before leaving. He kept this memory to himself.)

I think if she ever takes a visit to hell and finds out about the blackouts, she might actually have a really bad initial reaction. Alastor always did his best to never act anything like his father, despite sharing a similar face with him. His mom would not take kindly to knowing that he gets violent in any capacity.

When she finds out that it's entirely involuntary, and that Alastor didn't even know it was happening when he was alive, she's definitely going to have a bad mental breakdown. Her first thought would be that it's her fault. She already felt guilty for the way she treated him in life. She couldn't love him the way he deserved, never looked him in the eyes, had a hard time even going through the motions of a "proper mother." Was the lack of love the reason why his mind is so broken?

Finding out the first time he ever had a blackout was the day she was murdered would break her. Alastor loved her so much that her death destroyed his mind.

(The fault isn't solely hers, but she wouldn't be in sound enough mind to recognize this. It's the fault of Alastor's father, for being an abusive asshole, for everyone who outcasted Alastor based on his race, for being a "mixed bastard." It's the continued fault of war, financial instability, hunger, segregation, police brutality, etc. She may have been part of the initial spark, but she wasn't the sole cause.)

As for the rest of the hotel, I think some of them might actually get super annoyed with her guilt. Because to them, it might look like she's making Alastor's suffering all about her. Which would definitely lead to some tension, between her and the rest of the hazbin crew, as well as some tension between the crew and Alastor. Because he would not appreciate their line of thinking.

Despite the tension, it would take a lot for them to move on from the opinion they built on Alastor's mom. Namely that she definitely does not deserve the absolute unconditional love that Alastor showers her with.

[warmasf]

B has been coming down with a cold for a while now, and for whatever reason, (maybe they had just gotten over an argument, A is dealing with their own stress, what have you,) A, who would usually be the caretaker, is not having it. B, who is normally independent, if a bit attatched, becomes clingy, desperate and exhausted when they have a fever, but since A is in a mood, they don’t notice the signs/flat out deny them…until proven wrong.

A and B have been working all day outside in the cold, and while they are both bundled up and shivering, B has been rapidly paling and shaking like a leaf.

“A, cand we please go indside ndow? I thidnk I have a fever,” B whines, sniffling deeply and clenching their tools tight.

“We haven’t even been out here long, B, and besides, you don’t have a fever. It’s just a cold, you just feel feverish because it’s freezing out here,” huffed A, maintaining their gaze on whatever project they’re working on.

B sniffles and wipes their teary eyes. They always get emotional with a temperature, but maybe A is right. Maybe this is just a product of the environment, and once the job is done, they’ll feel warm again. Still, all B wants is to curl up inside and snuggle up to A, like things used to be.

“Okay, imb sorry, I just really ndeed a tissue,” B whimpered, sniffling urgently now.

A tossed them a handkerchief from their work sack and continued the job. B held their hand to their own forehead, trying to gauge a temperature. Everything just felt cold. A caught B’s gestures and scoffed.

“For the last time B, you’re not running a temp. You’re fine. Blow your nose, quit sissying around and help me.”

B dropped their glassy eyes and obeyed.

After no less than an hour, the sun was beginning to dim and the air was at least 10 degrees cooler. Snow started to flurry from the grey sky. A made their way over to where B was laboring, placing a heavy hand on their shoulder. B jumped and shook violently in the cold. Their glossy eyes shot up.

“C’mon, B, time to head in. And quit with the shaking, it’s just making you feel worse.”

B sniffled against the wall of congestion in their sinuses before responding.

“I kndow, imb sorry, it’s just mby fever-“

A rolled their eyes as they entered the house. The warmth of the heating made both of their noses run, but damn, was it a relief. B collapsed onto the couch as A hurried into the kitchen, irritation obvious in their gait. When A returned, they held a box of tissues and a thermometer.

“Here, if you’re so damn sure you’ve got a ‘fever,’ test it out. And blow your damn nose, im sick of all your sniffling and snorting,” explained A coldly. They settled next to B and tossed the supplies into their lap. B placed the thermometer under their tounge and waited, still shaking in their wet clothes.

After a minute passed, the thermometer beeped and A raced to pull it from B’s mouth, a smug look on their face already.

“I swear, if all that bitching was over nothing, I’m gonna make your life-“

A stopped and their lips parted slightly as they read the number on the screen. Their expression changed from irritated and smug to a mix of concerned and amused.

“Damn, B, didn’t know you could pack this kind of heat,” a chuckled, their laugh masking their worry. They turned the screen to reveal 102.4, flashing on and off. B smiled triumphantly before coughing into their elbow.

“Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want, let me help you out of those clothes and into something dry so we can focus on getting you better,” A said playfully, scooting close to B and cupping their warm face in their hands. The apology wasn’t spoken, but B felt a familiar, much more comfortable warmth pulse through them as they snuggled close to A.

[imfelinefinee]

I’m not sure how familiar you are with Monday Night Munchin (F/N/F), so if you’re not, that’s don’t worry about it! May I request some comfort noms with P.ico, b.f, and g.f? Both b.f and g.f canonically hate thunder storms, so maybe P.ico should nom them!

Hiya! I am a lil familiar with F/n/f! Not too much but I do happen to know the basics of the lore and thanks to a 20 minute explanation video, i managed to scramble this silly lil thing together! I'm sorry if it's a bit short, I tried wdjadnandwja

Drip, drip, dip.

NSFW DNI

Words: 1.6K+

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Soft/Safe vore

Pairing: B.F x G.F & Pred!P.ico

Racing droplets of rain poured down from the shut window, a clear surface between the roaring cold weather and the shelter of the apartment the two resided in for the safety and warmth provided to them. 

Yet, it didn’t feel as safe as they’d hoped.

Thunder crackled with laughter in the distance, a harsh cracking as it pierced the sound barrier and struck down with the might of Zeus. Striking down on the ground below as it engaged in its attack against the dreary conditions of the city. 

The blinding flash quickly enveloped their eyes, stressing them to the point of pain as they closed their eyes in reaction to the light. The dark gray clouds swirled like smoke in the air, the air pressure pressing up against each other in a discharge of electricity.

A fearsome foe, one that surpassed the man they called Daddy Dearest. Only this could compare to a man sending literal assassins to their doorstep in opposition to the weather outside. 

They enjoyed the weather in most cases, making snow angels in the crunchy soft ice together, and sipping hot chocolate in the autumn breeze. Traveling the beach in the shining sun, to enjoy the freedom of the sea only to get sunburned after they decide to relax from the excitement. 

Even in the solemn calm weather on a spring day, enjoying one another’s company as they made flower crowns for one another. Yet, the one thing they feared most. Despite having faced literal demons, they feared thunder like a kryptonite. Their one true weakness to everything else they’d experienced thus far.

Cradling the whimpering man to her chest, hardly able to hold her composure as she clung back to the head in her lap. Attempting to shelter him from the weather outside despite flinching upon hearing the frightening sounds behind her.

A synthesized drawn-out note cried out in a fearful screech, clutching the fabric of her signature dress in a tight squeeze. Holding on in fear of losing his beloved, in stark contrast to the man who always faced danger with a smile in his cheerful songs.

The thought comforted her that he was willing to show his fear to her, be open and vulnerable. An important aspect in a relationship, and for the two of them; She held her head up high, only to falter again and again until she shook like a leaf.

Her fear caught up with her, embracing her partner in a full embrace as she looked for refuge in his arms. With a shaking arm, he returned the embrace by gently caressing the locks of her fluffy brown hair.

They clung to each other like magnets, refusing to separate no matter what. The only comfort was their hugs and the warmth provided by the light beside them. A small candle roughly the size of their bodies, flickering with a small flame atop the wick. Dripping with wax as it melted from the heat.

The rest of the room was pitch black, taken in by the shadow of the moon. The electrical power of the apartment complex had been stripped away by the very storm they feared. The three of them had attempted to play video games such as WII sports to distract from the monster that was the weather.

Which all went to shit.

A quivering voice of electronic beeps murmured to her, holding her close as he expressed his comfort to her. Trying to remind her that it would all be okay soon enough, that they were safe as he held her tighter to his chest.

“I know- I know- I just-”, she was cut off as she nearly screamed at the sound a particularly loud one roared behind them, sounding far too close for comfort. Only to let out a loud shriek in the process, her eyes sparkling with tears as her lips quivered. Hiding into Boyfriend’s chest for a tender embrace.

Boyfriend also cried out, shaking as he held his partner closer to him as a means of support, a means of balance within the instability of fear that plagued them in a tortuous dance. Normally, the two of them would sing to one another with a radio beside them. Yet, they weren’t given that privilege after having to abandon their equipment behind.

There had been an incident, another assassination attempt by her father. Boyfriend fought back in his signature way of rap battles, only to piss off their opponent and went barreling towards them in a fury.

But fortunately, Pico came to the rescue.

The man in question came barging into the room in a panic, anxious as he scanned for the two on his window. Upon seeing them, let out a sigh of relief. He carefully approached the two with soft steps so as not to suddenly spook them, softly whispering to get their attention as the two of them shook like whimpering puppies.

“Hey- You guys hungry?”, he gestured towards a packet of crisps in his hand. It was open, flavored but it was likely one of the only snacks he had left over after abandoning his home for some time. A result of doing mercenary work.

After rescuing the two from their situation, the two hadn’t been in the best condition since it had started pouring down a waterfall of rain. His eyes lidded with concern as he took in the sight of the two of them, left out in the open vulnerable to the dangers outside.

He reminisced on his older days in high school, attending the school as friends or practically lovers until their later separation. He still cared for the guy, a lot since then. He remembered the times when he’d cradle him to his chest as he cried whenever it happened to rain. And now, there were two of them within his care.

With the tip of his finger, he stroked the heads of fluffy blue locks atop his head with lidded eyes. Worried about his friend and Blue’s significant other, he found himself jealous of the attention she received but a kindred spirit. Someone who he’d trust with Boyfriend to care for and look after. 

Even despite his jealousy, she was still his friend foremost.

The sounds of dripping rain used to be relaxing to him, reminding him of the time he spent with them. But now it seemed to be a hindrance, scaring his companions helpless. If only he had somewhere to hide them away…

An idea sprung to mind.

“Hey Boyfriend- Remember when we were back in high school- We would get in trouble and you’d need a place to hide from the teachers?”, a small smile appeared on his face at the memory. A fond one for him to look back on.

Boyfriend quickly sprung up from his cower, his eyes widening in surprise as he opened his mouth in a series of beeps and boops in his main dialect of speech. Confirming the memory of the events and asking him a question.

He nodded in response, Boyfriend returning his quivering smile amidst his fear. Gently shook his partner as he explained in musical notes on their conversation what Pico had planned for the two of them.

Girlfriend seemed hesitant upon hearing the idea but didn’t seem opposed to it entirely, Boyfriend volunteered to go first before her to show that it was safe, despite having placed her trust in Boyfriend. She appreciated it nonetheless.

He lay out his palm in the offering, watching as the blue-haired male detached from his partner onto the open hand. Slowly bringing him towards his face, opening his mouth to reveal his blunt teeth and hesitant tongue.

He watched as Boyfriend confidently jumped from his hand into his maw, shocking him for a moment as he hadn’t expected the action before him. It looked as though the man hadn’t changed at all despite his recent maturity, he still showed the same amount of trust as he had since his high school days.

He felt the boy embrace his tongue in a hug, holding back a laugh as he playfully rolled his eyes towards his partner. Shutting his mouth as he swallowed quickly, feeling the weight slowly go from his throat into his spacious stomach with a plop.

Next was Girlfriend. 

He offered his hand to her as he had to Boyfriend, reassuring in his gaze as he noticed her hesitancy in her step. 

“It’s alright- I promise”, he comforted. She met his gaze, nodding in acceptance as she went to step onto his hand. 

Only to slip upon the sound of another thunderstrike.

He quickly reacted, grabbing her into his hands as soon as she began to fall. Catching her safely into his palm; he opened his mouth, carefully placing her inside with an usher of safety for her wellbeing.

Gulping her down alongside Boyfriend, feeling the weight drop down into his stomach as the walls cradled the two. The man in question quickly welcomed his partner with tender arms, holding her as the two sat down against the wall of his belly, cradled by the warmth provided by the space.

He soon heard the two snore softly in sleep as he rubbed his stomach soothingly, only to feel a wave of exhaustion come over him. Letting out a yawn from his tiredness, deciding the best option was to creep into bed and fall asleep himself.

He quickly wrapped the blankets around his body, not caring for the boots on his feet. A firearm on his nightstand in case of emergency as he placed a protective hand over his lower chest. Feeling himself slowly fall asleep upon focusing on the weight inside of him. Deciding to join them in the world of dreamy sleep, he soon fell too.

Fading to the darkness of the night, the storm slowly turned to a small downpour with the pitter-patter of the window, gentle as it had back in the days. A gentle drizzle of drips.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

[wolfawaycamp]

angsty rylan pls...

tw: canon-typical violence, major character status ambiguity

🔮The darkness of the morning is cold, and so are Ryan’s blood-soaked clothes as he walks back to the police cruiser.

Lagging behind Laura and Travis, his steps are unsteady, and he’s holding his side— turns out werewolf healing will still leave a substantial surface wound after healing your punctured lung— and when he pulls his hand away, it’s sticky with both new and old blood. Ryan coughs forcibly, spitting out a clot of old blood onto the wet pavement, and Laura turns and raises an eyebrow.

“‘S fine, I’m fine,” he clarifies, clearing his throat as he does, and Laura nods skeptically as she climbs into the front seat of the vehicle.

“You’ll need stitches,” she states, a little too matter-of-factly, reclining her seat slightly to lean more comfortably on the headrest.

“What?”

“For your side. The stab wound. You’ll need stitches.” Ryan nods weakly, not caring that Laura can’t see him, and wipes blood from his lip with his shirtsleeve. He fixes his gaze out the window into the dark forest, almost expecting the cruiser to be charged by the white wolf again.

But the white wolf— Silas— won’t come. He won’t follow the blood trail to the cruiser, and he won’t chase the headlights as the three of them pull away from the scene. Laura’s ended the curse, the threat— threats, plural— are gone.

And still, on the ride back to the lodge, the blood on his shirt sticking to the leather seat of the car, there is nothing running through Ryan’s mind but images of Dylan. Dead. In every possible way.

Bleeding out, stomach ripped open, just feet away from the safety of the lodge doors, or the life fading from his eyes as he tries to staunch the bleeding from his throat, torn out by inconceivably large claws, or worst of all: Dylan in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the radio hut, his head blasted to nothing by the spread of the shotgun as Ryan shot at his wrist in a futile attempt to sever his hand. 

An image that could very well have been real if Ryan hadn’t taken a brief second to collect his thoughts before he raised the weapon.

He hadn’t done it. He hadn’t taken the shot, and in the end Dylan had been thankful, putting it to the back of his mind as he kicked dirt and hid a smile as Ryan told the regrouped counselors about the feedback loop.

Ryan grinds his teeth and presses his forehead against the cold cruiser window to keep himself from retching. That stupid smile.

There’s no way Dylan is alive.

There were too many threats, god knows how many werewolves were roaming those woods, and a hell of a lot can happen in five and a half hours. Sure, Kaitlyn is capable, but Dylan is flighty and self-sacrificial and all kinds of things that could have, and probably had, gotten him killed.

Dylan’s neck at an unnatural angle as he lands limply on the floor below the lodge balcony. His face bloodied and bashed in, his body slumped forward against a boulder. Fire flickering in his eyes as blackened burns crawl up his cheeks. A werewolf grabbing him and pulling him limb from limb like a toy.

Ryan swallows hard, fighting the bile crawling up his throat.

His mother was right, all the way back when he was ten and Sarah was four. You only realize how much you love someone when they’re dead and gone.

Ryan slips his hand under his shirt and presses his fingers into the knife wound. He sucks in a harsh breath, shaking like a leaf as he leans into the pain. He can feel new, warm blood trickle in a stream down his side and soak into the hem of his torn pants.

The pain becomes unbearable and Ryan pulls his hand back into his lap, clammy and trembling through his whole body. He has to squint his bleary eyes to refocus, blinking away hot tears that threaten to escape and run down his sticky, bloodied face.

He passes out then— from the stress or exhaustion or pain, he isn’t sure— but he doesn’t wake until he feels the cruiser jolt to a stop at the lodge.

He drags his gaze up the lodge steps, hoping to see someone he knows he won’t.

But Dylan is there, sitting on the stairs to the lodge with his legs tucked up to his chest and a flannel blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair is slicked down to his forehead and his face is smeared with blood, as if he tried to wipe it off and gave up, and his head rests against a rung of the railing, His eyes are closed. He isn’t moving.

Ryan’s heart drops.

Dylan raises his head, squinting into the sunrise, and Ryan wrenches open the back door of the cruiser and topples out onto his knees, dry-heaving into the dirt.

[skyward-floored]

Leaves

Another Incredibles au fic... sort of a little character study? I suppose it could be that. I just started writing the other day and this came out, so it’s not much, but I figured it would be a shame not to post it. Maybe someone will like it.

Set when Sky and Warriors are preteens, and Time is a fairly-young adult. Little warning for implied past character death.

————————————————————

Warriors walked slowly along the path he was following, his scarf trailing behind him as late afternoon light filtered past. It had been a bit of a detour to head here instead of straight home after school, and his legs were growing tired, but he’d been needing to come here for weeks, and finally had the time to today.

Warriors didn’t stop until the path curved, and he found himself at a tree with fan-shaped leaves that had begun to spread themselves across the ground.

There was a stone beneath it’s branches, and Warriors knelt beside it, gently brushing off the yellow leaves that had fallen on top. His hands brushed the letters carved into the stone, and he leaned back, smiling a little.

“Hey, Mom.”

A few moments of silence ticked by, and his smile faded, Warriors folding his hands in his lap as he exhaled.

“Um... I know I haven’t visited in a while, I’m sorry. Things have been kind of crazy lately. Time got in some trouble, and it was... a lot of stuff happened.”

He cleared his throat, and adjusted his scarf, shaking off the little flakes of ice that had begun to form on his fingers.

“We’re all doing okay now, though,” he continued, watching a leaf fall. “Time’s still kinda worried about me and Sky, even though we keep telling him we’re fine. He’s been sort of... clingy. But even though he’s been clingy, we finally convinced him to let us go out with him, so that’s been pretty great. We’ve already stopped some villains.

“Um... oh right, he hasn’t yet, but Time is totally going to propose soon. When he isn’t worrying over me and Sky, he’s acting almost giddy, it’s been so weird. He’s been so weird lately.”

Warriors huffed out a little laugh, then looked at the stone again, his smile slipping away.

“He really loves Malon. And I think you’d love her too Mom. I... wish you could meet her. We all do.”

He breathed out slowly, scratching his arm.

“I guess that’s pretty much it. I’m doing fine, in case you were wondering. Mostly just training with my powers. I figured out I can do really sharp icicle things if I focus really hard, so I’ve been trying to get better at that. I’ve also been working on making little stuff out of ice, but that’s not super useful...”

Warriors trailed off as a few leaves fluttered down around him, a weight much heavier than leaves weighing on his chest.

He closed his eyes.

“I miss you Mom. I... hope you’re proud of me. I’m trying.”

A leaf landed on Warriors’ head then, and he picked it up, running a thumb along it’s veins.

After a moment he raised his head, and let go of the leaf, conjuring some ice in his hands. He focused for several minutes, tongue slightly sticking out as he molded the ice in his hold, and slowly a flower appeared in his hands, made of pure ice. It was a little crude, and lacked the detail that Warriors would have preferred, but it would have to be good enough.

“I’ll come visit again soon,” he promised quietly, setting the flower at the base of the stone. “I have to go now though, or Time and Sky’ll worry. Even though I’ll be fine, and have powers to defend me, but you know. Time especially doesn’t need more stress.”

Warriors leaned back as a gust of wind blew some leaves past the stone in front of him, and he gently thumbed over the words again.

Then he breathed out, and got to his feet, noting that the late afternoon had trickled into evening while he’d been sitting. The leaves of the tree looked more orange now then yellow, and he tucked one in his pocket as it drifted by.

“I love you Mom. I’ll see you later.”

Warriors looked at the stone one more time, then gave a tiny smile, turning away and walking back down the path he’d come up.

A thin dusting of frost trailed behind him on the grass.

[lesbianphan]

Easy

Pairing: Phan

Genre: Fluffy one-shot

Words: 1K

Summary:

"Looking back at life, sometimes, it seems impossible that things can still be this blissful, despite all the stress of the early years, and all the uncertainties that come with the kind of work they do. He feels Dan’s arms comfortably resting around his body and sighs, melting into it, head pillowed against his boyfriend’s chest. He feels so heavy with exhaustion, he might as well fall asleep any moment and have an unplanned nap in the middle of the day, just to feel something."

or a tiny oneshot to get back into the swing of posting phanfic

Read it on AO3

A/N: This is fully unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this at work when I was bored and sleepy.

Looking back at life, sometimes, it seems impossible that things can still be this blissful, despite all the stress of the early years, and all the uncertainties that come with the kind of work they do. He feels Dan’s arms comfortably resting around his body and sighs, melting into it, head pillowed against his boyfriend’s chest. He feels so heavy with exhaustion, he might as well fall asleep any moment and have an unplanned nap in the middle of the day, just to feel something.

“Can ya move?” Dan grumbles, but his arms contradict him by hugging Phil close, like a huge uncoordinated kid with his favorite teddy “You’re heavy, bitch!”

“‘Am not,” he says simply, smiling, a mocking tone to his voice “‘cause it didn’t stop you last night, after you had your way with me.”

“Oy,” Dan complains, loudly, “that’s so different and you know it! Seriously, Phil, we bought a big couch just so we didn’t need to be squished like this all the time, you oaf, let me vibe in peace” he halfheartedly pushes at Phil, finally letting go of the embrace, and he feels like whining about the loss.

“You love me,” Phil deepens his voice, eyes meeting Dan’s, and watches him gulp. He moves ever closer, so the air that leaves his lungs hits Dan on his neck, right on his weak spot, “I bet I could change your mind if I really want to… I don’t even have to try that hard,” his tone is sultry, and it’s already doing things to Dan’s breathing pattern.

“Y-yeah?” he asks, his whole demeanor shifting slightly, suddenly interested in being close.

“Uh huh,” Phil replies, simply, letting his lips touch Dan’s neck and hearing his breath hitch. He ghosts his hands over the other side of Dan’s neck as he goes, and his boyfriend actually moans, before he catches himself. Phil giggles, laying back down, comfortably as he was before on Dan’s chest, no second intentions in sight, “see? Told you I can always change your mind, Danny-boy.”

“Fuck you!” He grumbles, but his hands betray him again, and he’s curling his finger through Phil’s blond hair, messing it up, petting him as a way to calm his fidgeting hands “you know I’m sensitive, it doesn’t prove anything.”

“Sure, okay,” he yawns, relaxing mostly on top of Dan still, comfortably.

“Phil, seriously,” Dan complains, again, shaking him a bit, “if you fall asleep in the middle of the day you’re gonna get a headache and complain about it for at least 12 hours, and you know it.”

“Ugh, fine,” Phil whines, getting up and stretching his arms and back, legs entangled with Dan’s still, “you’re no fun!”

When he looks back, Dan’s eyes are transfixed on the little bit of skin of his tummy caused by his stretch, and he grins, catching him in the act.

“Shut up!” Dan whines, “not a fucking word!”

“Wasn’t gonna,” he smiles big and pecks Dan on the lips, standing up, “I’ll even forget about it if you make some cof”

“Needy,” is all Dan says before he also gets up, following Phil to the kitchen, “who knew you’d be so high maintenance way back in the day. Is it my fault, have I created a monster?” he wonders aloud.

“Fan me with a leaf,” Phil quotes back at him, sitting down and lounging on their breakfast bar, “P mug, please. Matchies?” he asks, turning his big-blue-eyed power to the max, knowing Dan doesn’t know how to say no to it, hasn’t learned even after so many years of living together..

Dan doesn’t say anything; instead, he just picks up both their mugs, muttering something about grown men making their own damn coffee. Phil knows he doesn’t mean any of it, so he smiles big and waits for his cup to be placed on his grabby hands, as Dan slides next to him on the bar stool, with his D mug cradled close, already losing himself on his phone screen.

Phil just smiles, grabbing Dan’s free right hand with his left, while he sips at his coffee in silence. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to feel brown eyes boring into his skull, silently questioning why they’re holding hands right now, probably. Phil shakes his head once and squeezes once, sighing in contentment at their activities.

When he glances back, Dan is staring at him intently, his face always filled with so much awe and admiration, it warms him up faster than the coffee ever could. He sways their hands gently and admires his partner’s features, all perfectly him, and calm, and safe. He still sees all of the Dans from their past in there, somewhere, but every new version is always his absolute favorite by far, every time. Dan raises one eyebrow questioningly, a silent check-in to make sure he’s okay, that this isn’t a silent cry for help or something. Phil nods and plays with Dan’s fingers, absentmindedly. His boyfriend tries to hide a huge smile by taking a sip of his drink, but Phil is faster, poking his dimple happily.

“I saw that!” he giggles, still playing with Dan’s hand in his, pliant and his, “caught you in the moment, bitch””

Dan just laughs his loud infectious laughter, which makes him snort a little and make the goofiest noises. When he stops laughing, Dan meets Phil’s eyes and comes closer, immediately kissing him deeply, hand still clasping Phil’s, using his dominant hand to hold onto the back of Phil’s neck and bring them closer, always craving more. He sighs into Dan’s mouth, always hot and flustered when things get intense, knowing it means so much to both of them to still have this feeling all these years into it. As they break apart, Phil realizes he’s pretty much sitting on Dan’s lap by this point, breathless and messy, just like a teenager, still.

“We’re not young enough for breakfast bar activities anymore,” Phil jokes, messing with Dan’s curls, “let’s take this back to bed, yeah?”

“Okay, old man,” Dan teases, “after you.”

And if he feels Dan’s eyes following him on the way out, fixed on his ass as he wets his lips, well, he can’t help but think happiness has never come easier.

[princessbrunette]

you’d never been in trouble in your life.

scolded, sure. told off for staring? almost daily. but only now had you ended up in the sheriffs office, wound up in more trouble than intended all for being curious. you’d been wandering around the obx, off in your own world— your favourite lonesome activity. the pogues had been off on some mission that pope hadn’t allowed you on, so naturally you found your own fun, frolicking through the forest to find cool looking mushrooms and plants. you didn’t mean to end up on a kooks property. you also didn’t mean to set off their alarms.

you play with the lone leaf you had shoved into your pocket before the owner of the land had called the cops on you and had you taken in. you were fine, you had got in the police car yourself and didn’t resist in the slightest— but you were a little afraid. the leaf you’d plucked from the ground brings you comfort as you sit on the cold office seat swinging your legs. then, you hear the commotion before you see it.

pope had been called upon your request to collect you, and bounding in wildly by his side was jj, yanking his red cap off his head to cuss the place down.

“control your dog, heyward.” the female officer sneers as they arrive in the main area where you were in holding. pope locks eyes with you and bounds over, wide eyed.

“what happened here?” he stresses, brow creased in exasperation. you blink, looking around with a shrug still twiddling with the stem of the plant you’d plucked.

“all you gotta do is sign her out. dont need any commotion. owner of the land said he wouldn’t press charges for tresspassin’ with your written word that you’d stay off his property.” shoupe rolls his shoulders, clearly over the whole ordeal too. you could tell deep down he thought it was ridiculous, but he was dedicated to putting on a front and doing his job.

“she got arrested for walking on some grass? shoupe, you know that’s not right.” pope steps forward in emphasis, and immediately two officers stand beside the man in charge protectively, causing pope to sigh and slow his movements.

“the owners recently had a break in. stole about five thousand worth in jewellery, and a couple hundred in cash. when they caught her snoopin’ around on the land they suspected she could maybe have been the burglar.”

jj’s eyes practically bulge out of his head, ducking his head in disbelief. “her?” he deadpans, arriving at your side to grasp your shoulders. “this lil’ girl. you think she was responsible for a damn heist? y’all must have lost your minds i swear to—” the blonde raises his voice and pope shakes his head dejectedly, holding up his hand.

“jj, chill.”

he scoffs, taking a lap— leaving you with your boyfriend and the sheriff.

“now no one’s pointin’ fingers here. i don’t believe this young lady is capable of such a crime either. but they called it in, and i had to check it out. she’s all good to go.” shoupe stares the two of you down, and you shuffle towards pope, watching him as he lets out another disgruntled sigh, crossing his thick arm over himself to itch his opposing shoulder which made his bicep bulge, attracting your wide eyes again for a moment.

“yeah.” is all he says, hastily signing away the papers, keeping his glare on the officer. “this is some bullshit and you know it. we good to go?” he asks seriously and shoupe silently nods, allowing the boy to guide you away from the station — maybank already taken off to the car.

outside, heyward stops infront of you and you blink up at him with knitted brows, unsure if he was mad at you.

“did they hurt you in there?” his voice is gravelly, more serious than you’re used to. it takes you a moment to shake your head.

“uh-uh. i got in the police car by myself.” you note and his own brows furrow, placing two coarse hands on your arms.

“you need to be careful when i’m not around. okay? i know you like to explore, right it’s your thing — but just… you need to watch out for these cops. you saw what they did to john b a while back, what they accused him off. they are dirty. do you hear what im saying?” his voice is gentle, but his expression is urgent— not letting go of you. it’s only then you let the tears pool in your eyes, not quite understanding the severity of what could have possibly happened until then.

“i’m sorry.” your lip wobbles and his hands rise to cup your cheeks instead, thumb pressing to your bottom lip as if to stop it from shaking.

“don’t be. it’s those asshole cops who should be sorry. look, there’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart. i’m here. jj would’a burned that place to the ground if they laid a hand on you. but… i just don’t want you to get into trouble and wind up like me. yeah?”

you nod, and he pulls you to his chest, your hands clutching onto the loose muscle tank he wore as he holds you. “i’m sensing you need some food. do i sense correctly?” you hear the smile in his voice, and everything feels okay again.

“mhm.”

“cool. cars this way, let’s get you some fries, bambie.”