#Straight out from my still writing doc

[crystal-snowfall]

Spoiler from Relmouret

[This is totally the whole chapter, you know? Chapter zero from Relmouret? The somewhat Preface or Prologue?]

In truth, Humans should’ve known better than to harm the beloved one, one that was loved by the creators of their own world.

(Especially that they were warned again, and again, and again.)

But then again, it is too late for them to have any regrets. For what is done, cannot come undone.

So why don’t I tell you about what that is, the meaning behind the words I said? You’re interested?

Good.

Now, heed us well as we begin with everything goes like this:

Humans, those that were born with brilliant powers, were able to bear one of the elements of the primal four, which were: Fire, Water, Earth and Wind.

Or in the known language of this world: Lares, Terous, Thios, and Howls.

Proud of what they were, they never once learned the origin of how they even came to possess these miracle powers in the first place.

Before the Humans, came the Gods, a supreme being who oversaw the people below from high above. And among them, there was one who was of the newborn, a young Godling, who was the strongest and also the loneliest of them all.

And that young, lonely Godling one day wandered upon the middle realm, where most Humans and Creatures lived. Upon wandering, that young, lonely Godling met a lost child, who was just as young as he was.

Naive that young and lonely Godling was, he helped the sly and manipulative young Human child, without once did he know of his downfall that the Human child shall soon bring him to.

And when the war came, the Godling perished upon the betrayal of that Human he once helped.

Sure, with the death of that young Godling, it brought the Human race with great rewards, letting them to be able to wield the elements, be that as it may, it also brought them the Gods’ Wrath upon them, their rage arose with the knowing of the death of their fellow kin.

For fifty days and fifty nights the Humans fought with the Gods, and soon the Humans came out as the victorious of the long and gruesome war.

However, their vanquishment of them was only because the Gods had decided to leave the Human realm in the remembrance of that young Godling that they actually came to love without the Godling’s knowing.

Some of the Humans wrote it down in their history that it was the one and only time they were proud of being able to defeat such divine beings that came from above.

And that Human who betrayed the young Godling was crowned as the King – no, as an Emperor of the new empire.

But, that Human was swallowed in his guilt, unable to overcome the betrayal he had brought to his first friend. Thus, in remembrance of that Godling he betrayed, that Human then named the Empire with the name of Kaimaharene, a wish to be forgiven by the deed he had made.

Not only that, that Human renamed him and his future generation as the Xolani, leaving its once prideful name into the Void of the Forsaken One, never to be remembered by any but him.

No other Humans had come to know what it meant and the reason for such action, but they let it be, thinking that their newly crowned Emperor was just seeking forgiveness for the loss of their people in the war with the Gods.

As if this action itself was very obvious to everyone, and to the Emperor himself.

And one day, nearly a year after the war between the two races, one of the Humans found a unique gemstone and presented it to the Emperor of the Kaimaharene Empire.

With one look, the Emperor knew that it was no normal gemstone they had brought to him, it was a gemstone created by someone he was most familiar with, the young Godling who he had wholeheartedly betrayed.

And so, the Emperor kept the given gemstone in the most safekept place, the place that sealed with the key of both him and the deceased Godling had created in the past of the forgotten.

From then on out, the door closed behind him and no other Humans had ever seen their Emperor ever again, and the next Emperor was crowned soon after the disappearance of the first Emperor.

Now, the story ends here. But there is one question that I have in mind, what actually happened in between this very story that caused such an ending? What of the betrayal that the Human has brought the young Godling?

Are there still things that none of us, till this day, has ever known of?

Maybe we can begin with a slumbering child in their sleeping cocoon who sleeps for many, many years to come, in the forest that is protected by one of the Gods above?

We can only sit back and watch, as everything unfolds before us, either in a slow and mysterious way, or in a way where they only bring more questions to us.

And with the quill placed down on the table, a mysterious smile formed on their face as a feminine voice spoke that echoed in the air. “Let the show begin, Child of hers.”

“Will you entertain me or will you disappoint me instead?”

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Okay call me insane for requesting this but I have a Jack Abbott idea that popped into my head after seeing your most recent soap cod writing. What if the reader comes into the pitt with minor injuries but still need to be bandages up & she’s Jack’s young wife so when the current doc treating her comments something like ‘oh actually we have a doc named Abbott too’ and asks if that’s her dad. The same time he walks in insists on being the only one to treat her. That pisses him off but the reader teases him & calls him daddy 🫣 (sorry my adhd is on a roll & I didn’t proof read this so hope that makes sense. Ok bye!) *mwah* 💋

bisous! enjoy daddy abbott!

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: You came into The Pitt with a few minor injuries. Nothing serious — a couple scrapes, a nasty bruise, and a whole lot of pride damage after slipping on iced coffee in front of a packed elevator. You were fine. What wasn’t fine? The resident patching you up just asked if Dr. Jack Abbott was your dad. And he asked it right as your husband walked in the room.

“I’m just saying,” Whitaker shrugged as he unwrapped a roll of gauze, “we have another Dr. Abbott here. Older guy. Real serious type. I think he’s in trauma. You guys must be related, right?”

You blinked. And then you grinned.

“Related?” you echoed, tilting your head as he dabbed antiseptic across your elbow.

He nodded. “Yeah — I mean, he’s probably old enough to be your dad. Kinda has that strict professor thing going on.”

You pressed your lips together, hard, to keep from laughing. Because right on cue, the door behind him swung open.

And in walked Dr. Jack Abbott, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked directly on you.

“Out,” he said, curt and low.

Whitaker blinked, turning halfway. “Sorry—sir?”

Jack stepped fully into the room now, standing straight, a little too calm. “I’ll take over. She’s not a patient to be handed off.”

You watched as Whitaker's face went from confusion to realization to full-blown oh-no-I-just-stepped-in-it.

“I—uh—I didn’t know—” he stammered. “I thought maybe she was your—”

“My wife,” Jack snapped.

Silence.

Whitaker muttered something like “I’ll update her chart” and bolted so fast he nearly left a puff of smoke behind. The door closed.

Jack didn’t move.

You stared at him for a long beat, then cracked a smile. “You know, he did say you had the strict professor vibe.”

He walked over to the sink, washed his hands with military precision, not even looking at you. “He asked if I was your father.”

You bit your lip. “He was trying to be polite.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jack picked up a fresh gauze pad and turned to you. His jaw was still tight, but you could see the heat behind his eyes now. “And if you ever let someone underqualified touch you again, I’ll—”

You cut him off, voice light, teasing. “What? Ground me?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, sharp.

You smiled, just enough to tip it over the edge.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you leaned back a little on the table and purred, “Relax, daddy. He didn’t even get to the good parts.”

Jack froze.

You could see the moment it hit him. The twitch in his jaw. The shift in his posture.

His voice dropped half an octave. “You want to try that again?”

You raised your brows, innocently. “What? I was injured. I needed help. You’re always saying I should let people treat me with respect.”

“I said they should treat you like you matter,” he muttered, pressing gauze to your bruise a little harder than necessary. “Not call me your father in the middle of the ER.”

You grinned. “I didn’t say father. I said daddy. Big difference.”

He exhaled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

You leaned in. “And yet, you married me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just taped the last piece of gauze with unnecessary precision and said, flatly, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Devastatingly cute,” you corrected, swinging your legs as he packed up supplies. “Now c’mon, daddy. Let’s get me out of here before you lose your medical license over a bruised ego.”

He turned, gave you a look that promised consequences — later.

And just before you left the room, he muttered, barely audible under his breath: “Call me that again when we’re not in a trauma bay.”

[xximperioxx]

One of me is cute, but two though?

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.7k (not proofread)

Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY) age gap, swearing, fluff, established relationship, poorly written explicit smut, p in v, the slightest bit somnophilia, breeding kink, cockwarming?, female anatomy, male anatomy, unsafe sex, (let me know if I missed anything) MDNI 18+

Notes: pls be gentle with me this is my first time writing smut like this and Im so inexperienced it’s not funny. Enjoy the Sarah Paulson meme I put in there. Also I’ve been blown away by the love my work has recent gotten and I truly appreciate it. Anyways enjoy <3

Gif cred: @xxdrixx

———————————————————

You don’t exactly remember how you and Dr. Robinavitch got together. It started out with stolen glances and innocent touches at work and a kiss outside your apartment when he walked you home one night.

Today was busy and you were ready to go home. Except it wasn’t even noon yet.

You sit down at a computer with a huff. Your feet silently thanking you for a break. The sounds of the ED ringing in your ears as you try to focus on the screen in front of you. Your leg begins to bounce out of habit and your eyes look around the busy hospital.

Santos takes a seat at the computer across from you. She gives you a small smile. You return the gesture before your eyes look back at the computer and stare at the time. All you wanted to do was go back to Robby’s apartment and cuddle on the couch with your sweats on. With how this day was going the dream of your Friday night plans were beginning to fade away. Is an easy day so hard to ask for?

Collins catches your eye as she tries to soothe a crying baby. Robby tells her something before she carefully hands the child to him. Your eyes immediately gravitate seeing your boyfriend gently rocking the fussy infant. You perk up, now sitting up straight. If this wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen you don’t know what was. The two of you haven’t brought up the conversation of kids just yet.

You knew he was getting older and while you were still young, you weren’t sure of motherhood just yet. You’ve seen the horrors and heartbreak of childbirth in this hospital but you’ve also seen the light it brought to people. When the tears of pain turn into tears of joy. You’ve always imagined having a family but you never had a timeline. That was until you saw your man holding a baby right then.

You feel yourself grow hot and your pulse quickens. Suddenly, images of a future as a family with him flash through your mind. Being pregnant with Robby by your side, gently rocking your child to sleep, getting them ready school in the morning. You want it. All of it. God you wanted to climb like a tree right here.

The attending can feel someone’s eyes on him. His eyes search the room before they land on yours. His gently shushing comes to a stop. He gives you a confused look, not able to read your expression. Your lustful eyes soften as your face flushes from enamorment. You love him. You shake your head silently telling him it’s nothing.

He gives you a smile that says ‘I love you’ but a look that says you’ll be talking later. He continues to softly shush the infant in his arms before going to find the mother.

You don’t hear Collins approach the desk. She follows your gaze and lets out a laugh, “You okay there, Doc?”

Santos doesn’t look up from her computer, “She’s been like this for 5 minutes. Making bedroom eyes at Dr. Robby.”

“I think my body just had a physical reaction.” you joke.

Santos grimaced, “I don’t need to know about that. You keep that to yourself.” Collins lets out a snort as you scoff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let out a yelp as a hand pulls you into an unused room. The person pulls you into them. Out of reflex you start resisting. Which ends up to be you sadly hitting their chest.

“It’s just me– stop hitting me. Hey!” Robby grabs your hands, stopping you from hitting him more.

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Surprised turns to annoyance. You glare at him, “Why didn’t you just leave me a note like you normally do?”

He lets go of your hands and lets out a laugh. You try to fight turning your scowl into a stupid grin at his laugh.

His hands slither around your waist, pulling you flushed against him, “Is it so wrong for me to want a spontaneous moment alone with my beautiful girlfriend.” You roll your eyes as your hands reach up to rest on his chest.

He leans down and his lips meet yours for a gentle kiss.

He slowly pulls away after a few seconds, “We really need to get you trained on self defense because whatever that was earlier– was sad.”

You hit him again.

“Ow!”

You shut him up with a quick kiss, “Don’t be a wimp. I didn’t hit you that hard.” He grins.

His thumb sneaks under your scrub top and grazes the bare skin. Subconsciously, you feel your body shiver at his cold touch and lean into him closer. He smirks down at you. “What was with that look you gave me earlier?”

Your eyes look up at him with innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A pinch causes your hips to jerk. His fingers caress the area. You sigh and nervously play with his stethoscope around his neck. “It’s dumb.” You mumble.

He gives you a displeased look, “Trust me it’s not.”

You purse your lips and can feel your heart beating faster, “When you were holding that baby,” the image pops into your mind, “It made me realize I want that with you. Like really, really badly.”

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow at you, not expecting that.

His face softens, “You want a baby with me?”

You nod.

“I want a family with you too.”

Your hands reach up and pull him down for a searing kiss. He kisses you back immediately.

The two of you slowly pull away to catch your breath.

Robby placed a kiss on your forehead, “I love you.”

Your face turns red at the thought of earlier. You laugh and hide your face in his chest. “Michael, I wanted to fuck you right then and there. It was so embarrassing.”

His laugh rumbles his chest. “So that’s what that look was.”

Your groan comes out muffled from his chest.

“Well, how about tonight when we get home,” his thumbs start tracing your skin again, “We can work on that. Plus, you’re ovulating…”

You pull away with a scoff, slightly amazed. “How the hell do you even know that?”

He shrugs, giving you a sheepish grin, “It’s the doctor in me…and the boyfriend in me.”

A knock interrupts you two. Dana’s voice rings out, “Robby! We got a teen. Respiratory arrest. ETA 2 minutes.”

You both pull away from each other. Robby runs his hands down his face before they drop to his side. He sighs.

You lift your hand to his cheek and bring his face to yours.You press a kiss to his other cheek. “I love you.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before walking out to prepare for the coming case. You pull out your phone for a minute, not wanting to make it obvious you were in the room with your attending alone.

You walk out of the room, mentally trying to prepare yourself for what’s to come for the rest of the shift. A body waiting outside the door scares you. Dana.

You greet her with a shy smile, “Hi, Dana.”

The charge nurse gives you a knowing smirk, “Hi, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robby waits outside the hospital by the bike rack with one AirPod in. He focuses on McVie’s bass while ‘The Chain’ plays in his ear, blocking out the thoughts of his shift. His eyes follow the headlights of the cars passing the building.

You see Robby standing with his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. As if he could feel you coming, he looks up to meet your tired eyes. He greets you with a faint smile.

“Sorry, Collins stopped me on my way out about one of my patients.”

You didn’t want to tell him that the actual conversation was. It was just Collins leaning into you in passing with a “I hope it sticks tonight” ,a cheeky grin, and thumbs up for luck. All while you gaped at her.

You reach for his hand as you begin the walk to his place. Like most days when you and Robby share the same shift, the two of you walk to his apartment in comfortable silence. Robby normally listened to music to clear his head as you paid attention to the night life of the city.

Robby opens the door to his apartment and walks in after you. After dropping your bag at the table, you walk over to the door and take off your shoes. Out of the corner of your eye you see Robby walking over to you with a smolder.

He goes to reach for you but your hand stops him, “We are not doing anything until I am out of these scrubs and we have food in our stomachs because I know you didn’t eat anything today but a granola bar.”

Robby sighs in disappointment and you let out a snicker. He opens the fridge and pulls out leftovers as you grab two plates out of the cabinet.

The two of you eat while sharing conversations about positive things about your shifts. He brings up working with Whittaker as you share how your cases with Santos went well.

After you both finish, Robby picks up both of your plates as you start putting away the food you didn’t eat, “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

You wave him off and he gives you a quick peck on the lips before you start working on the dishes. After a bit, the kitchen is now clean. It had been a mess since this morning when the two of you left in a rush for work. You finish washing your hands before throwing the paper towel in the trash. The water had stopped a while ago and figured Robby had gotten ready for bed.

You make your way to the bedroom and find Robby sitting against the headboard in his boxers with a book in his hands. He glances up at you, his readers resting on his nose,“Thank you for cleaning, honey.”

He reaches his arm out to you. Walking over, you lean down and give him a quick kiss. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be quick.”

You come out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, wearing Robby’s bathrobe and some spare panties you had in the apartment. Rummaging through his dresser for a shirt, you feel Robby’s eyes on you. You laugh, “Stop looking at me like a teenage boy.”

“I can’t help it.” You glance down at the bulge growing in his boxers.

He motions you over and you immediately follow. You climb over him with ease, now straddling him. He notices your dilated pupils and how your breathing deepens. His calloused fingers trail from your thighs up to your hips.

Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips once more before leaning down and capturing his lips with yours. He kisses you back feverishly.

His fingers quickly untie the robe. He slips it off you and tosses it across the room. You let out a whimper as his hands immediately grasp at your breasts. Your kiss gets interrupted by your phone ringing from the other room.

You shake your head, “Ignore it.”

He leaves kisses down your neck. His teeth scraping, leaving you out of breath. You subconsciously begin to grind your hips. He lets out a groan before gently biting down on your pulse point.

His fingers push aside your panties. “Fuck,” He choked a groan feeling how wet you were.

You let out a whimper as his fingers collected your wetness. His thumb gently brushes against your clit. You fall into him with a gasp.

Your ringtone interrupts you again. You pull away with a sigh.

Robby’s hands rest on your hips. “Go get it. It could be important. Besides, I’m not going anywhere. ” you nod before he gives your hips a squeeze as you get off him.

You quickly grab an old junky shirt from his dresser. Your footsteps pad against the hardwood to the kitchen and you pick up your phone. You see two missed calls and a message from your mom. Call me.

What you thought was an important call ended up being 15 minutes of your mom trying to catch up and you repeating you would call her tomorrow. The ‘call me’ was just to tell you that she and dad got a new dog. You wanted to slam your head against the wall.

You come back into the bedroom with a snort, ready to tell your boyfriend what happened. You stop to find him asleep leaning against the headboard with his mouth slightly open. Soft snores fill the room. You let out a quiet laugh.

You turn the light off by his bedside and carefully take off his reading glasses before crawling into bed with him. You aimlessly scroll on your phone, looking at social media.

You don’t feel him shift, his head finally sinking into his pillow, “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You roll onto your side and face him.

“For being tired after a long shift?”

He grumbles and you snuggle into him with your head laying on his bare chest. “It’s okay, I’m tired too,” you reassure him while stifling a yawn. He lays a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You both fall asleep within minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in the morning you were expecting it to be the smell of coffee and not your boyfriend copping a feel. Your eyes flutter open to see Robby’s fingers carefully massaging your breasts under your shirt, gently pinching your nipples. All while pressing kisses down your neck.

His hardened cock rubs against you. You let out a tired laugh before turning to face him, “Well, good morning to you.”

He gives you a boyish grin. He watches as you climb on top of him. In the same position as last night. “Good morning, hon.”

Your fingers graze his bulge before giving it a squeeze, “You weren’t joking about trying for a baby right away.”

Robby shakes his head while biting his lip trying not to moan. Noticing the damp spot on your panties, his rough fingers brush against your clothed clit, “Not wasting any time.”

You let out a whimper. “P-Perfect.”

He slides your panties down and you awkwardly take them off before he takes his boxers off. His cock springs against his stomach. You lower your hips. Robby grips your hips once more and you gently begin to move. Your slickness now coating his thick member as your pussy slowly rubs up and down. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a muffled moan when your clit brushes against his tip.

Robby throws his head back, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, “if you keep this up. I-I can’t cum in you.”

You nod. You don’t think you can form a sentence right now. Your body was on fire. Your hips lift as Robby guides himself to your entrance. You let out a whine at the same time Robby lets out a breathy moan as you slowly sink down on him. Every inch stretching you as if it’s your first time together again.

You slowly begin to move your hips up and down as you ride him. After a few seconds you feel yourself grow tired and slow down. Robby lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh. I’m doing all the work, old man.” His fingers find your clit and gives it a soft pinch. You let out a shaky gasp. “Don’t be mean.” You warn.

Your hands scratch at his chest as his hips begin to thrust up meeting yours. The sounds coming from his mouth edge you closer to finishing.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Robby warns with a grunt. His hooded eyes staring at your blissful face. His thumb rubs small circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck, Michael- baby,” you whine as he speeds up his thumb motion.

After a few more thrusts, Robby cums inside you with a guttural moan. Your release follows shortly after, loudly moaning as you feel him cum. Your hips continue to grind, riding out your bliss.

Suddenly, you feel heavy as your orgasm bliss wears off. Your muscles screaming at you. Panting, you tiredly slump on top of Robby. He gently rubs your back still inside you. The two of you even your breathing.

You lay in comfortable silence as you listen to his heartbeat. Robby draws shapes on your back. The sun peaks through a crevice of the blackout curtains.

“I feel good about that one,” you joke, “Having two of me will be a handful for you.”

Getting a second wind, Robby flips you both over. Now smirking down at you on your back, “We should keep trying…just to be safe.”

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to set the record straight regarding a certain OST for a short film that should be coming out later this year, because one of its directors is making false and hurtful claims about me and my business ethic. After he made a prominent appearance on a drama stream about me & wrote a section of my callout doc, I told him that I wasn't interested in dragging him publicly, but that has felt more impossible as time goes on and I realize the extent of his misrepresentation. I had a vision of this film being able to release quietly in spite of everything, but I don't think that can happen, and I fully expect him to try and hurt my chances at further work.

In 2023, between techdogs 4 and 5, I worked on music for a then good friend's student film. It is by far the most technically difficult job I've ever had, and I did it for free. Now, before you get mad, this is partially (mostly) my fault. I never negotiated a price beforehand, and when I found out partway through that I was working for free, I let it slide for fear of being disruptive. If I was asked to quote a price today, it would have been approximately 900 USD. The work was a hellish and grueling experience, technical in ways I'd never been prepared for, and I sorely regret not putting my foot down, because I was hollowed out by the end of it.

A big portion of his callout against me is concerned with, bafflingly, my decision not to contribute my own money to the film, which at that point would have been a negative paycheck. I didn't pay the thirty dollars that I would've had to pitch in for the film to be screened, and I considered that a fine payment for the nine hundred dollars of work they got from me. He goes on to write that I'm rich anyways, I pay hundreds of dollars on album art (business expenses that I know I'll make back when the music is released) and "furry porn," because apparently if I am occasionally willing to drop a pretty penny on a pleasure purchase then I should simply be compelled to pay them randomly for things I hold no stake in and that I signed no contract for. He also mentions that I paid them later for the DCP file at another screening, of course by that point I had gotten the vibe that they were wanting for me to drop money on their project, so I did, giving the post-hoc justification that "i guess in this case I also care about the film sounding good." He writes "well I guess that was something she deemed worthy" without realizing the implication would then be that he did not see my own work as worthy.

Let me make this clear, this is like if a voice actor worked on my video game for free as a favor with no expectations of royalties, and then I asked them to help me pay to get the game on steam. This is presented along reheated second, third, fourthhand accounts of sexual misconduct.

And before we move on, to the claim that one album artist had to wait for years before receiving payment, this is true. I did forget to pay one artist, and only found out after their assistant contacted me years later, where I then paid six times the asking price as a late fee. I was commissioning over ten album arts every year, and as of now, this is the only time I have made this mistake.

It is impossible for me to refute his claims about the personal time we spent together in Omaha, as it would just be my word against his. I will just say that he should know the omitted reasons that I have grown to feel I was disposed, discarded, and taken for granted by him, and how he has nothing to do with why I hold those memories at that film festival so highly. He also does the classic thing where he positions allowing me to pick the movie in the evening as this favor he did, making me unknowingly rack up debt for a bargain I never consented to.

During all this, he has expressed an existential fear of being harassed for going public about me, and for this reason I want to say that I still hope that this film can be released without a fuss, but his continued participation in a harassment campaign against me has done far more to tarnish his reputation than I ever could. If you really cared about your image, pressure Crim to re-record that drama stream without your embarrassing petty grievances in it & delete your testimony from the callout doc. Thanks.

[physalian]

10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

[valeisaslut]

thinking about collide ellie and reader on snl…

NO BECAUSE I 100% thought of writing Ellie and reader on SNL but there was already SO much happening in the fic that I was like okay Val. breathe. you do NOT need to write an entire season of sketch comedy in the middle of your lesbian slow burn.

BUT IN MY HEART (and in the AU) THEY WENT. They 100% went.

SO, FOR MY NATION: ROCKSTAR!ELLIE X POPSTAR!READER ON SNL.

The episode aired like two weeks after the Grammys, and the SNL writers were frothing at the mouth to recreate the chaos. So obviously, you and Ellie did a full sketch reenacting the Grammy moment—THE “nah. you look too fucking hot right now.” THE “i love you.” The pause that followed. Beat for beat. There was dramatic slow motion. Ellie fake-mic-dropped. You dramatically collapsed to the floor like you’d been shot. The audience BLACKED OUT.

BUT WAIT. There was also that cursed SNL music sketch where you're both singers from different planets. You were a glittery Y2K alien who only sang in autotuned adlibs. Ellie was a country cowboy who doesn’t believe in music unless it’s played on a busted banjo. It made ZERO sense and somehow ended with an animatronic horse doing the dougie. At one point, Ellie LASSOED you and made a kinky joke that wasn't in the script at all. Twitter hasn’t recovered.

Weekend Update?? A disaster. You showed up, said four words, and went “ok i’m too hot for this” and just left. Ellie stayed behind and gave a fake PSA about “dating your popstar girlfriend responsibly” and how you should “not accidentally make out on live TV unless it’s for the bit.” It got 70 million views.

AND THEN. THEN. The cheerleader skit. You and Ellie were rival high school cheer captains. Seeing Ellie’s masc ass in a cheer uniform nearly ended humanity. She was PISSED about it but after shooting she begged the costume department to let her keep it. The skit escalated immediately—normal flips turned into Ellie back handspringing off the desk, you pulled a megaphone from thin air and screamed “L FOR LESBIAN.” A marching band materialized out of nowhere playing She. And then, inexplicably, it ended with the two of you slow-dancing in cheer uniforms under falling confetti while Pedro Pascal (as the school principal) screamed “THIS IS A SCHOOL ASSEMBLY.”

OKAY BUT YOU’RE NOT EVEN READY FOR THE "LESBIAN QUIET LUXURY" SKIT. Like. You and Ellie played these absolutely feral rich girls who inherited old money from their great-great-grandmothers (who were, quote, “roommates”), and now live in a haunted countryside manor in Vermont where they “just do pottery, collect oil paintings of women with secrets, and make eye contact with ghosts.”

It was shot like a Vogue mini-doc. You wore a floor-length linen nightgown, held a glass of wine, and whispered “I only speak in lowercase now. Capital letters are performative.” Ellie was doing an interview in a library and said, completely straight-faced, “we don’t have a television, we just recite Sappho to each other while our oat milk steams.”

Then it CUT to you two at a farmers market arguing with an old man about whether figs have feminine energy. Ellie was like “you don’t get it. figs are bisexual.” And the old man just left. He walked off the set. That wasn’t scripted.

The sketch ended with both of you holding a single candle, standing barefoot in a field at dusk, and solemnly saying “quiet luxury is loving your partner so hard it echoes through generations.” And then you made out behind a hedge while a harpist played Phoebe Bridgers.

That sketch is on every sapphic aesthetic moodboard.

The cast was breaking so bad the cameras were shaking. Cecily Strong had to walk off set. It was the exact brand of unhinged chaotic lesbian television we DESERVE.

Anyway yeah. You were on SNL. Sorry for not writing it in the fic. I might still. Don’t tempt me.

[airosuiren]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔒𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔗𝔬𝔬 𝔏𝔞𝔱𝔢

A/N: Okay, so… You ever walk into a room where you were once unwanted, and every head turns because suddenly you’re everything they’re not? Yeah. That’s this chapter. 😌 This one’s for the readers who’ve leveled up in silence. Who were counted out too early, who walked out of the fire looking dangerous instead of damaged. This is [Y/N] stepping back into the space that broke them—and not breaking this time. Let’s be clear: this isn’t a reunion. This is a revelation. Grab your tea. Let’s shake a few foundations.

Thank You @arislia for this Idea!

And I'm sorry for not making this longer because I had this planned (I plan my series in google docs after tumblr deleted my old drafts). These will be shorter BUT, the next series I promise to make it longer!

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1, 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 3

You weren’t supposed to stand out. That’s the irony. You had trained yourself to be unseen, unheard, unfelt—because the moment you started to feel, you started to hurt.

But when the League summoned their families to a secure location, the world you built in the shadows was forced into the light.

You arrived alone.

Lois had offered to fly with you. Clark had said they’d wait at the entrance. But you declined. You wanted them to see you walk in under your own power. No crutches. No borrowed names. Just you.

When you stepped through those doors, the reaction was immediate.

The Queens lit up like someone had flipped a switch. Ollie pulled you in for a hug, Thea waved you over, and even Dinah looked proud. Clark’s face softened. Lois’s arm went straight around your shoulder like it belonged there.

And the Batfamily?

They stared.

Not with joy. Not even with confusion.

They stared like you were a ghost. Like they were seeing something they’d buried come back to life and demand retribution.

You didn’t smile. You didn’t greet them. You turned away from them the way they once turned away from you.

Because if they wanted to pretend you never mattered, then they didn’t get to matter now.

Still, their eyes followed you.

And then the meetings started.

The League began dissecting the threat. Hackers. Leakers. Global-scale blackmail. Someone had infiltrated systems that were supposed to be airtight. It wasn’t just about identities anymore. It was about dismantling everything.

You knew how the media would spin it. You knew how Gotham’s elite would react. And most of all, you knew how fear worked when it had the public in a chokehold.

So you spoke.

You laid out a counter-strategy like you’d done it a thousand times. Because you had. In Metropolis. In Star City. Behind the scenes of political campaigns and corporate power moves. You’d sharpened your teeth while the people who threw you away forgot you even had a bite.

The room listened.

Clark deferred to you. Lois backed you. Oliver vouched for you.

Bruce stayed silent.

But you caught the flicker in his expression when the others nodded along. When Diana praised your foresight. When J’onn said you understood humanity better than most.

The others? Dick tried to pretend he wasn’t surprised. Tim’s stare was surgical, dissecting you in real time. Damian looked like he’d bitten glass.

And the new girl? She finally looked at you.

With fear.

You weren’t the quiet reject anymore. You were something else. Something dangerous. Something they didn’t make—and couldn’t control.

Later, in private, Alfred brought you tea. You almost cried at the gesture.

Almost.

He said nothing about the past. Just, “You’ve grown.”

You wanted to scream, I had to.

But you just nodded.

The truth was, they needed you now. And you were going to help. Not because they deserved it.

Because the world did.

And even in the darkest parts of you, that mattered more than revenge.

But they would never forget this version of you.

Not the one they raised.

The one they abandoned.

The one who rose anyway.

𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘! (𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝)

(this is kind of a bonus I thought of while writing...)

It had been late. Quiet.

The kind of quiet that seeped into your bones. The kind of quiet that made your footsteps echo like they didn’t belong.

You were fourteen. Maybe fifteen. You don’t remember the exact age—only the feeling. Raw. Unseen. On the edge of breaking.

Your ribs ached. Your shoulder throbbed. You’d taken a hit meant for Damian—an instinct, not even a choice—and landed hard on a rooftop ledge. Rolled too close to the edge. Limped all the way back. No call of concern. No one on comms. No “Are you okay?” Just silence.

It should’ve earned you a lecture at worst.

Instead, it earned you her.

The new girl.

Barely two weeks in.

Bright. Perfect. Adored.

You limped into the Batcave, helmet tucked under your arm, dried blood crusted over your eyebrow. You expected quiet, maybe concern, maybe just the acknowledgment that you existed.

What you got?

Laughter.

She was in your seat. At the computer. Wearing your gear.

The armor you'd trained in. The one Alfred helped custom-fit after months of trials. The one you’d stitched, cried in, bled into.

And she wore it like it had never belonged to you at all.

Tim leaned over her shoulder, pointing something out on the screen. Damian hovered close behind. Dick was saying something about how “clean” she moved in the field.

And Bruce?

Didn’t even look up.

You stood there, waiting. Expecting. Begging, in that small, desperate way you told yourself you’d outgrown.

Then, finally—his eyes flicked toward you.

And his voice cut through the cave like a scalpel.

“You’re benched. Permanently.”

Just like that. Like a weather report. Like an afterthought. Like you were a dented weapon tossed in a drawer.

You opened your mouth—“But—”—

And then Alfred was there.

With a tray.

Tea and towels. The same ritual. The same script.

But this time, he didn’t meet your eyes.

Not once.

You watched him walk past you like a ghost.

And then—then—came the final blow.

The girl in your gear turned to Bruce, tilting her head with practiced innocence.

“Was I a mistake too?” she asked softly.

A test. You knew it was a test. A way to secure her place. But you didn’t expect the knife that followed.

Bruce didn’t even hesitate.

“No,” he said. “But she was.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear it.

But you did.

And the sound it made in your chest wasn’t a crack. It was a shatter.

You stood there for maybe another full minute.

No one turned. No one asked you to stay. No one noticed the way your fingers curled so tightly around your helmet that the edge dug into your palm and drew blood.

You went to your room. Packed your gear. One piece at a time.

You stood in the center of that tiny space—bland walls, no posters, a bed that had never felt like yours—and realized you’d been living in a house, not a home.

You left the suit on the bed.

Left the tracker on the desk.

Left your voice in the hallway.

And shut the door behind you.

You never opened it again.

A/N: Whew. They called the meeting to fix a crisis—and walked into their biggest one yet: the ghost they buried came back golden, angry, and smarter than all of them combined. And let’s talk about that power shift. She didn’t gloat. She didn’t lash out. She just existed loudly in the place that tried to erase her. And they couldn’t handle it. This wasn’t revenge. This was justice with restraint. Power without apology. Presence that didn’t ask for permission. Next chapter? Let’s make them earn the right to say your name again.

—Your eyes-still-wet, hands-still-shaking, soft-but-spiteful author 🖤💫

Taglist: @feral-childs-word, @trashlanternfish360, @astro-girly1, @suneaterscape, @thatcatladywrites, @arislia, @kittzu, @ottjhe, @tinybrie, @wpdarlingpan, @ryuushou, @simpingpandas, @lettucel0ver, @moonxmio, @kneelforloki, @sirenetheblogger, @xzmickeyzx

Let me know if I missed someone!

[200mark]

⌗ i know it’s not much but .. lee jeno

SCENE .. in which jeno turns his living room into a makeshift restaurant for a cozy at-home date.

꒰ DETAILS ꒱ boyfriend!jeno & fem!rea ⋮ ♯ file 001. established relationship, scenario, petnames && fluff ᵔⰙᵔ wc .. {929} 𓂃🖊

♡ entry .. hello again! i had this sitting in my docs for a while so i decided to kind of rewrite it for jeno, originally writing this there was no one in mind and just wrote it as “he” this idea was going to be like a full on date night idea but i like small intimate things so this was really cute idea that i had thought of mid writing. proofread but may still be errors! i apologize in advance.

more of nct dream

jeno had been planning this all week, he knew you were coming by his place all week, so he made sure he kept it tidy, even washing the dishes everyday. the faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air from the candle in his bedroom, he glanced over to his room seeing that it was the only room in the house that was a mess he rushed over and closed the door “well so much for lighting that candle,” he murmured to himself before walking back into the living room sighing running his hands through his hair.

he went out and bought a table and chairs, a white tablecloth that draped over the table which was too small but it’s the thought that counts he kept reminding himself. the table was round and black and it took him a few days to build only because he read the instructions step by step, the table and chairs had been built since wednesday and he left it all set up in the living room just going straight to bed when coming home from work, afraid to mess up his set up.

“should i light these candles now or wait,” he was referring to the candles placed on the table, he was definitely starting to over think this whole thing now maybe he went in over his head. “i’ll light just one since the one in my bedroom is still in there, and put the others away.” he quickly lit the candle and placed the candle in the center of the table, turning it slightly to face towards the chair you would be seated in. 

he rushed into his bedroom tossing the candles onto his bed, which wasn’t a smart decision since they were glass but he managed to get them both on his bed. he went back into the living room looking at the set up one last time before going into the kitchen checking on the pasta he was cooking. 

the knock on the door startled him, he looked at the door then down at his watch it dawned on him that you’re now here and he rushed to the living room straightening up pillows on the couch and adjusting the rug under the table with his foot behind letting out a stressful sigh, “i hope she likes this..” he mumbled to himself.

he makes his way to the door, “who is it?” he said jokingly causing you to laugh “maintenance!” you shout back and he opens the door, “maintenance be looking a little different here” you giggled and without a word, jeno reached out, gently pulling you into a hug—tight, warm, and exactly what he needed.

“you smell amazing,” you said, pulling away and making your way into his apartment. “wait wait wait,” he gently grabbed your arm, turning you around hoping you didn’t notice his set up in the living room. you looked up at him “everything okay?” and he nodded “i have a surprise,” he smiled covering your eyes “trust me, okay?” “of course, i trust you jeno.” 

“it smells great in here. are you finally burning those candles i bought you?” he heard the excitement in your voice which made him smile, and he nodded as if you could see him before saying yes. he’s guiding you to the living room one hand on your hip the other covering your eyes.

“okay are you ready…? i’ve had this plan in motion all week so if you don’t like it you don’t get to eat delicious food with me,” he lets out a little chuckle and you gently nudged him with your elbow he removed his hand from your eyes and placed it on the other side of your hip.

you open your eyes allowing them to adjust to the lighting before taking in the scene around you, “is this the surprise…?” you say attempting to sound disappointed but he could practically hear you cheesing behind your words.

“no yummy food for you then,” he removes his hands from your hips and walks into the kitchen, “baby i’m joking, i love it! very thoughtful and cute.” you wrapped your arm around his following him into the kitchen, “yeah, i know it isn’t much but-” you cut him off “it’s more than enough jeno.” you said smiling and he kissed your forehead, “i’m glad you like it baby.”

after a while you’re both seated at the table set up in the living room, eating your pasta, sharing a laugh and just enjoying each other’s company. “so you really had this table built basically all week?” and he nodded, taking a sip from his cup. “mhm, i usually sleep in the living room when i come home from work but i was afraid of ruining the whole set up so i was forced to sleep in my bed, very worth it though.”

“i almost forgot,” he said standing up from the table disappearing into his bedroom and you just watched him “i know you’re allergic to roses… and i still wanted to get you some flowers so i bought you some stargazer…? i’m not sure the lady at the flower shop helped me pick them out i just told her your favorite color and…” he kept rambling on he did notice you were standing in front on him smiling from ear to ear, 

“they’re beautiful jeno,” you laughed softly, clutching the flowers to your chest, eyes shining. when your lips met his, he was smiling—soft, giddy, and full of happiness. 

“well, beautiful flowers for an even beautiful woman.”

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3

...when hope is all you got...

[EoH Universe]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy Dixon

Summary: When the prison falls, your family gets separated. Now it's all about finding each other again... Especially Daryl and your son.

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff, walkers, weapons, angst - a lot, blood, death,

The Road Era!

Word Count: 3,7k

a/n: I forgot that I wrote this story and remebered a few days ago. I thought for a second that I just dreamt writing this, but... Then I checked my docs and there it was. I never posted it, though. This has to change, 'cause I really like this installment of the AU. ☺️

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Daryl's breath was laboured as he stopped to run; back pressed against a tree and crossbow dangling from his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut; throwing his head back. Rest wasn't granted him for long, though... The snarling and growling of the approaching threat caused his body to pump more adrenaline through his veins. "Damn it," he cursed and clenched his teeth, before he started to run again. In distance, the archer could see the thick cloud of smoke; marking the fall of the prison.

Tears gathered in his eyes. He had lost sight of everyone... Rick, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, Carl, you, the kids, Teddy - everyone. He didn't know who was still alive and who wasn't.

Gritting his teeth, he continued to run - not away from the prison, though... Towards the prison. He had to find you and his son. At all costs. "Y/N! Teddy!" He yelled; his voice echoing through the woods and probably attracting the walkers all around the area, but he couldn't care less. The archer was running high on adrenaline; the pain, anger and fear in his heart pushing him on. He was more than ready to fight.

"Y/N! Teddy!" The closer Daryl got back to the prison, the more walkers came into his way. He killed them all; not stopping - until they had more or less surrounded him; coming at the archer from all sides.

He grunted and took quick breaths; sweat rolling down his neck and chest. His eyes flickered back and forth to not lose track of which walkers would 'attack' first.

The tactic was good at first - but at some time he lost track. More than ten walkers being too much for him as well. Therefore, he didn't notice how the threat sneaked up on him; ready to take a bite out of neck - when a loud gunshot suddenly urged to his ears. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the walker behind him sinking to the earthy ground beneath him. More gunshots followed.

Daryl quickly fought off the last two walkers (for now) and spun around - his heart leaping almost out of his chest as he saw you standing there.

"Y/N!" The usually so composed man almost sobbed; running over to you and straight into your arms. "Daryl," you croaked out; holding onto him for dear life. "I-I heard your calls a-and came as fast as possible, I-" You pulled back from the hug and cupped his cheeks; eyes scanning his body for any injuries. "You okay, sweetie?" He nodded; smiling ever so softly. "Now 'm okay." You breathed out a laugh and leaned in to press your lips against his in a desperate, but sweet kiss. You would've loved to kiss him longer, but the archer pulled back. His eyes were sloshing over with worry; hands twitching on your waist. "W-Where's our lil' boy? W-Where's Teddy?"

You swallowed hard; lump forming in your throat. "I-I left him on the bus, I-" "The bus?" You nodded; tears pooling in your eyes. "I-I went looking for you, thinking that he would be safe t-there. I-I had to look for you, but couldn't take him with me. It would've been t-to dangerous w-with all these bullets flying..." Your head dropped, just like your hands from Daryl's cheeks to land on his chest. "G-Gods, I-I hope they made it."

You felt how the archer's grip on your waist tightened softly; thumbs caressing your clothed skin. "Hey, sunshine, look at me," he spoke in a low, reassuring voice. You did what he asked you; looking up in those seemingly endless blue-grey orbs. "We're gonna find 'im, 'kay? He'll be a'right. Teddy's such a strong kid."

You nodded. "I-I know, but he's still just a child after all..." Daryl dipped his head to plant a firm kiss on your forehead; his goatee tickling your skin. "We find him, sunshine," he said again, "C'mon. We gotta get outta here." before untangling his arms around you and gently pulling you along; hearing the threatening snarls of more walkers getting closer. "Let's find tha' bus."

Daryl's tracking skills were probably never more advantageous than they were now in this very situation. Unfortunately threw nightfall a wrench in the works. It was too dangerous to walk around all night. Especially with the two of you still being not that far from the destroyed prison, which still attracted new walkers. Daryl wanted to keep going, of course, so you had to be the reasonable one this time.

You had just come back from securing your small camp with old ropes and empty cans you two had found; creating a alarm system. Now, you sat down on the remains of a tree trunk, beside Daryl, around a small campfire. He was skinning and cooking the... snake he had caught earlier. You watched him work; knowing that you were in the safest place in the whole world... By his side. You just wished Teddy was, too... But giving up wasn't an option. It never was and it would never be.

"Here," Daryl gently nudged your side; interrupting your thoughts. "You gotta eat somethin'." You nodded and took the piece of cooked snake meat Daryl was handing you; taking a small bite. "Could be worse," you stated then and looked at your man, who answered with a grunt and shrugged his shoulders. "'S not bad. Had worse." "Oh, definitely."

Later that night - might as well call it very early in the morning, you had taken over to keep watch; insisting that Daryl needed some rest, too. It took you some convincing, but in the end, he gave in and granted his body some rest.

You kept your senses sharp; constantly looking out for any threats. And of course, it came how it had to come... Something - or rather someone found their way into your tiny camp...

Not a walker, though...

You had your rifle drawn and loaded; ready to shoot, as you pointed it into the direction of the quick steps on wooden ground you heard. You were hiding behind a thick tree only a few yards away from the camp.

The closer they got, the more picked your heart rate up. Your finger was hovering mere millimetres above the trigger; twitching - but to your sheer surprise and endless relief stumbled a familiar face out behind the bushes... "Beth?!" You breathed and immediately lowered your rifle; beyond happy to see one of your family members. It gave you hope that the others survived, too.

The blonde teenager looked at you wide eyed, as if she had just seen a ghost. "Oh my gosh, Beth!" You immediately lunged forwards; taking the young woman in your arms. You felt how her body relaxed against yours. "Y-Y/N..." "Are you okay?" You pulled back; giving her a quick once over. Beth nodded. "Are you alone?" Once again, she nodded. "A-Are you alone?"

You just wanted to answer something, when another voice cut through the air. "Sunshine? Ya a'right? Wha' 's goin' on?" Daryl. His footsteps could be heard as well; approaching. "It's all good, sweetie. I found Beth." Within seconds, he appeared from behind a tree; looking from Beth to you and back. Then he nodded and lowered his crossbow. "Ya okay?" "Y-Yeah..."

Of course, you took her to the little camp. "How did you find us?" You asked; giving her some water to drink. The young blonde woman shook her head. "I didn't search for you. I just stumbled across you." You smiled softly and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I'm glad you did." "What you think I couldn't make it on my own?" Beth snapped; giving you a frown. You shook your head, "No. I never said that. I'm just happy to see you; knowing you are alive gives me hope." and gave the teenager's shoulder a gentle squeeze. You could see in her eyes, that she immediately regretted her words. "I'm sorry... You're probably right. I wouldn't make it, I-" "Yes, you will, Beth," you interrupted her. "You are strong. Stronger than you think." In return, the blond gave you a small smile. "Thank you."

Then she looked around. "Where's Teddy?" Her question brought you back down on the hard ground of reality. You swallowed hard. "I-I... We don't know. We hope he's in the bus..."

Daryl, who had been a quiet participant of your conversation with Beth decided to chime in. "He will be in tha' bus," the archer said and subtly reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and giving it a soft squeeze.

With the first daylight, you, Beth and Daryl got on the road again; trying to find the bus. It took you quite a while, but around midday, you finally found its tire tracks. "Are those...?" You asked as Daryl inspected the tracks; hope flaring up inside you. He nodded. "Yeah, 'm quite sure 's from the bus." You exchanged a relieved smile with Beth, since she was hoping Maggie and Glenn were probably in the bus as well. "Let's go!" You almost shouted; excitedly running ahead.

Your happiness didn't last long, though; got blown out like a candle within seconds. As you rounded the slight curve, you spotted the bus in distance; causing you to stop in your movements. The back door was ripped open and a lot of dead bodies were scattered on the earthy road. Familiar bodies. People you knew and once lived in the prison with you.

The moment of realisation hit you hard. It felt like your heart had just jumped over the edge of a cliff; free falling into its death. "No... No, no, no..." You whimpered; tears already starting to well up in your eyes, as you started to run again - straight for the bus. You heard quick footsteps behind you and Daryl's voice calling out your name, but you ignored him. You had to look for you son. You had to see if he was dead.

"Teddy!" You screamed from the top your lungs, but got no answer. Hastily, your eyes scanned the dead walkers, but Teddy wasn't one of them. Without thinking, you climbed inside the bus. "Y/N!" Daryl called out for you again, but once more you ignored him; your motherly instincts taking over.

You could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, as you checked every nook and cranny of the empty, blood soaked bus. "Teddy!"

He wasn't there.

All you found was the red bandana he used to wear around his neck. Tears blurred your vision as you sunk to your knees; clutching the bandana against your chest. Teddy was gone, and you had no clue where to even start. Was he dead? Was he alive? The uncertainty ate you up inside.

Daryl and Beth reached the bus after you; the archer's eyes immediately scanned his surroundings. He didn't have to be an expert to know what happened. It was obvious. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned to Beth, "Ya keepin' watch, yeah?" and let his crossbow fall carelessly to the ground. Beth, who was shocked as well just nodded.

With a grunt, Daryl climbed inside the bus as well; spotting your shaking and crying form on the floor. Of course, he didn't hesitate and rushed to your side. A pair of strong arms lifted you up and embraced you tightly; catching you from falling. You buried your face in Daryl's chest; holding on to him for dear life.

The archer knew he had to be strong for you, but that wasn't easy. Teddy was his son as well. Keeping up a brave, strong face in this situation was impossible. He couldn't stop the tear from escaping the corner of his eye. "We're gonna find 'im, sunshine. I promise. He's out there 'n we're gonna find 'im. I ain't givin' up. Ya hear me?" You snivelled and lifted your head to look Daryl in the eyes. You could clearly see how much this affected him as well. The pain he felt.

Daryl lifted a hand and cupped your cheek; gently wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "Ya hear me?" He asked again, and this time you nodded. "Y-Yeah..." Daryl gave you a nod as well, "Good." and pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"Someone's been clearly here 'fore us, let all 'em walkers out 'n killed them. Perhaps got Teddy saved by the person who did this." "You think so?" "Could be, yeah," Daryl said; chewing on his bottom lip.

You stayed silent for a few moments; gathering your thoughts and trying to get a grip again. "Alright. Let's keep searching."

You stared aimlessly at the concrete ground beneath you; trying to process everything that happened the past two days. You didn't even have time to breathe. Well, at least that was how it felt like... Finding the fallen bus, camping in an empty but stocked morgue, which resulted into losing Beth to god knows who. All you and Daryl saw was the white crosses on the rear window. It felt like another blow into the gut - full force. Now you were back at trying to find Teddy and the others; knowing very well that you couldn't rescue Beth alone.

You sat across from Daryl on the hard ground of the empty, only halfway finished building on the top floor; gaze directed on the landscape beneath your feet. Terminus was your destination; hoping that the others saw the signs too and followed the tracks as well.

The orange flames of the little campfire warmed your skin, but it didn't change the fact that you felt utterly cold. Without hesitation, you stood up and crossed the small distance to sit down beside the archer, who took you wordlessly in his arms. From your position, with your head resting in his lap, you looked up at him; noticing the trouble in his eyes.

Something was off.

Well, clearly Teddy still missing was occupying him, but there was also something else on his mind. You could feel it - and you had a guess...

You lifted your hand and gently cupped his cheek. He flinched at your touch; had been clearly lost in thoughts.

"What's going on in that handsome head, huh? Besides being worried about Teddy?" You asked; voice merely above a whisper. Daryl lowered his gaze and shook his head. "Nothin'." You huffed. "You can't bullshit me, Daryl. Not after seven years of being together. When are you going to learn that this won't ever work with me, huh?"

The archer started to chew on his bottom lip; lowering his head. He answered nothing at first and you didn't push him; caressing the skin on his cheek instead and trying to provide him some comfort and reassurance.

"'S on me," Daryl whispered after a while. "Losin' Beth..." You frowned; feeling his scruff tickling the tip of your thumb. "Sweetie..." You started and shook your head. "Why would that be your fault?" He swallowed hard. "'Cause I jus'..." He exhaled shakily. "I jus' send 'er out. I shoud've kept ya both safe... I-" "No..." You interrupted him immediately; shaking your head. "This is not on you, Daryl. You hear me? It's not your fault." You gazed deeply into his troubled eyes; swallowing hard. "You did what you think was right. And it was. You protected her from that literal herd of walkers by sending her out." You paused for a moment; letting your words sink in. "I hate that we found and lost her again in such a short time, but... She's alive, Daryl - and that's what's important."

The archer chew on his bottom and said nothing; just looked down on you. You could see in his eyes that your words had definitely reached his brain, but also that he was still hesitating. So, you jumped into action. "C'mere."

Sitting up, you shifted your position and gently nudged Daryl; gesturing for him to switch positions. Within seconds was his head now resting in your lap; face nuzzled into your stomach and arms tightly wrapped around your waist. It was exactly what he needed - and you knew.

You buried your hand in his chestnut brown hair; gently massaging bis scalp with your fingertips. "Let yourself feel it, sweetie. Imma catch you, I swear," you whispered; other hand running over his leather clad back. You just held him then; trying to be his tower of strength.

Silent tears were wetting your t-shirt, but you couldn't care less.

At some point Daryl had slept in - something you were really glad about. He needed rest and sleep; the physical and emotional exhaustion of the last few days catching up on him.

You went to check the barricaded staircase, before you extinguished the small campfire and laid down beside your man; trying to get some sleep as well.

You didn't know how long exactly you and Daryl were sleeping, but it must've been quite a while, since the first rays of the morning sun didn't manage to wake you up. Something else did... The familiar snarling and snapping of teeth, alongside some shouts and the sounds of knifes slicing through skin and bone.

You sat up with a start.

Someone was fighting walkers.

Out of instinct, you immediately reached for your weapons and stood up. Moving to the edge of the opened side of the house, your eyes widened at what you saw. It wasn't just somebody, who fought against the walkers... It was Maggie and Sasha.

"O-Oh my... Shit," you cursed and ran over to the stair; trying to quickly move the barricade away. The noise woke up Daryl, of course. "Whatcha doin'?" He croaked out; voice still thick with sleep. "Maggie and Sasha are outside and surrounded by walkers! We gotta help them!"

No ten seconds later was Daryl by your side and helped you to get out of the building.

Together, you stormed down the stairs and floors, until you reached Maggie and Sasha outside; quickly helping them to kill the threat. Both women's eyes widened as they saw you and the archer, but there was no time to talk. You had to get rid of the walkers first - and you did. Together. Panting, you wiped some blood from your hand and smiled at the two family members you just found. "Maggie... Sasha..." They smiled back at you with tears in their eyes, and within seconds, the three of you were wrapped up in a hug.

"It's so good to see you," Maggie stated, while she went to greet Daryl; placing a hand on his upper arm. The archer gave her a soft smile and Sasha a nod - which she returned. "Likewise," you replied, before looking around. "Are you two alone?" Maggie and Sasha exchanged a look. "No," Sasha said. "Bob's with us. He went ahead. We have to catch up." You frowned; were slightly confused. "Why did he-" "Trust us," Maggie interrupted you; still smiling softly. "You'll see."

You and Daryl packed your things and joined Maggie and Sasha; following the tracks. After catching up, you got to know that they were looking for Glenn, of course, and heading for Terminus as well - what gave you hope that all your other family members would do the same. Daryl talked to Maggie about Beth and explained what happened.

It didn't take you long to catch up with Bob. You could see him walking in short distance. "Bob!" Sasha called out to him, which caused the man to stop and turn around. His eyes widened for a moment, before a bright smile stretched over his face. He turned around again for a few seconds, and what then happened literally took your breath away...

Bob wasn't alone. A way smaller figure appeared from behind him. A little boy you only knew too well. Teddy. "Mommy! Daddy!" He cried out the second he saw you two and didn't hesitate to instantly start running towards you and Daryl.

"O-Oh my god," you breathed out; hand reaching out to grasp your man's arm. Tears were glistening in your eyes. But this time, it was happy tears.

Nothing in this world could've held you back then. You stormed off; running towards Teddy and fell to your knees in front of your son; quickly taking him in your arms. "M-Mommy..." Teddy was audibly crying as well; beyond happy and relieved to see you, of course. He was still just a child after all. "I-I'm so sorry, baby... S-So sorry... I should've never left you alone," you whispered into his hair; breathing in his scent. Teddy's small arms squeezed you in response - and not just Teddy's...

Daryl had made his way over as well and was now perched on his knees, just like you; one arm wrapped around you, the other around his son. The little boy noticed the presence of his father immediately and quickly untangled his arms around you, in order to throw himself into Daryl's arms - and you happily let him. Unlike you, though, the archer stood to his feet with him; giving Teddy the opportunity to hug him even closer.

An opportunity the four-year-old took.

He wrapped his legs around Daryl's waist; clinging to him like a baby koala to a tree. You smiled warmly at the both of them; beyond happy that your little family was reunited - something you had to thank your other family members for.

You turned towards Maggie, Sasha and Bob, who were standing beside each other a few yards away; watching the joyful reunion with smiles on their lips. "Guys, I..." You had to hold back a few tears. "I can't even say how grateful I- we are...Thank you so very much." You walked over to them; taking all three of your friends in a group hug.

"You don't have to thank us, Y/N. We are family - and that's what family does," Maggie said. "Exactly," agreed Bob. "W-Where did you find him?" "The bus. He was hiding overhead. Smart boy," explained Bob. "We killed the walkers and found him," Maggie continued.

Everything made sense now.

"Again, thank you. I-I don't know what I or Daryl would've done if we had lost Teddy..." Maggie shook her head and hugged you again. "Don't think about that. He's here and safe." You nodded; "Let's find Glenn." giving her body a gentle squeeze.

And you did. Just like all of you found your way to Terminus...

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[sanguineterrain]

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

[maximwtf]

“I would endure endless defeats before burdening you.”

Capitano x Reader

Words: 4200

Google Docs Pages: 7ish

Warnings: 5.1 spoilers but just about Capitano, established relationship but everything has to be horrible so it’s not established but kinda is but just when you think it is, it’s not. Angst/ kinda comfort? Idk you try to comfort an immortal man rotting from the inside and see how it goes. I guess like the tiniest amount of fluff but that’s sad too. Bad communication, emotional hurt. I imagine him with more real rot, maybe with some abyssal like Dain? Idk, but this is written based on that :) Rotten man, save us.

Opening: Does he have people to open up to about all the years he’s spent with his condition and the thoughts of regret he’s accumulated? Would he allow himself that comfort even if he did? Because that has been for you to figure out, bit by bit. 

AN// G/N reader. I don’t think yall understand how happy I was to get this lore drop on Capitano. Like wdym they have a suffering old man in the cast, and you kept him from me for this long?! Anyway, I feel like it was my duty to write something for him due to that. Enjoy.

If you have any fic ideas for him, feel free to request :)

“I would endure endless defeats before burdening you.”

The hallway outside was silent, matching the space behind the door at the very end of it. A faint light on a sturdy wooden table, a couple other lights scattered here and there. But no amount of warm candles nor a bigger fire could truly disperse the coldness in the room. The man inhabiting it, so stupefied by it by now that he barely noticed anymore. And the people who had before, dared not mention it anymore either.

The light outside had disappeared some time ago. The sun never truly rose in mid winter, or at the very least it didn’t seem like it did. Especially on the days when the snowfall was so thick it painted the horizon white. Covering the sun along with its soft blanket. And so it had done on this day as well, and by the look of it grown tired by the end. Yielding, and soon the snowflakes turned so small it looked more like powdered sugar from afar. Only a little too late for the sun to make any sort of appearance anymore, the chance for that long gone. 

Did the sun have regrets at the end of days such as this? Had it not tried hard enough to repel the heavy snowfall on this day? And now that it had failed, would the people who’d longed to see it shine once more at the end of the day be disappointed? Would they be blinded enough to not see that it had tried to save the end of the day with a few rays of its light, only to realise it was far too late for that? And that it would try again just as hard if another chance was given. 

Capitano stared outside through the window of his office. These seemingly eternal thoughts running through his mind yet again. At times hoping his mind would rot enough to be able to forget any sort of regret he may have still been holding on to. But a curse seemed to stay as such, unable to forget and let his mind rest. 

Not when small things around could be used to remind him, having to shut his mind from viewing these aspects around him on such a deep level. In truth having nothing to do with the past and the actions taken and left undone. All the more reason to try and forget any regret. 

His eyes gazed outside at the snowfall. It coming down in a straight line, placid as ever as it settled to its rightful place. To perhaps be blown to a new location the next day with a gush of wind. The weather was so calm it almost appeared warmer outside than in the uncomfortably chilly office of his. The cold that would have sent a shiver or two down his spine in the past.

Capitano’s eyes focused on his reflection against the window. A man he’d constructed his outer appearance to be, something to stay unchanging as everything else was torn from him bit by bit. That was a man with no regrets, someone powerful to look up to. Someone he’d once been fortunate enough to truly be and live as.

Not that he wasn’t that now as well. Enjoying the respect of his peers, troops and alliances. But each show of power reminded him of who he wasn’t anymore. The person he could no longer even become. A rare few amongst the people he met even being able to comprehend the status he’d held all those years ago. 

His head lowered, a careful pair of hands taking a hold of the carefully constructed mask. Removing it with a slow, almost dragging motion. Lowering it along with his hands, eyes having returned to peer at his reflection. The space dim enough to not allow his full appearance to truly show off. But he knew exactly what the blurry and darkened out parts looked like. What the mask so diligently hid behind it. 

What the outer man he’d built was concealing underneath. The commander he’d been and the person he’d turned into. Forced into being. Cursed with something others would spend their lives seeking, not understanding the cost of living beyond their years. How the flesh would deteriorate and rot. How even his soldier’s will and self respect wavered under the power this change had. How his mind had to come to terms with what used to be and what was now. Who he had to be and what he could now do in order to use what he’d been given to make a mark. Even if only to himself, he wanted to be able to to make this time count. He’d be a disgrace to his former homeland if he had given up all that time ago and frozen in place. The only option was to move on. Even if this curse was eating him alive. 

A part of him sighed in relief when the silence deep in the hallway was disturbed, releasing his mind of these thoughts. Focusing on figuring out who was nearing his door. There was no knock, steps that were silent as ever and that paused almost right after as the door behind this person closed once more. The silence, almost like a vicious entity, taking over the space like it was guarding it. And just before that Capitano had come to a conclusion, you. 

“Greetings,” he spoke with a surprisingly formal tone. Quick to adapt from his thoughts to the current situation. Not foolish enough to not have a guess as to what you were doing here at this hour, but hopeful enough a conversation might make you change the course. But the sound of your voice as you replied, ‘evening’, suggested there was a little chance you’d yield. 

There was much he could have done to try harder, yet he surrendered so soon. Who was he to resist your sheer will? The same will he’d tried to direct elsewhere in the past multiple times, yet it always returned to him. A seasoned warrior smart enough to recognize a losing battle when stumbling upon one, he would have known. 

Your eyes followed keenly as Capitano placed the mask from his hands onto the table. The man’s eyes looked piercing in the faint light of the room, no doubt even frightening to the less knowing. You couldn’t even see his face, only the broad frame of his back. Only the blue shine from the glistened against the reflection from the window, as if peering back at you. The sight overall something not seen every day, something most never saw.

There was no reason for your eyes to be the ones to be allowed to see, to watch and analyse. Or so you believed, if there was a reason neither of you dared to word it. As if doing so would unleash some sort of a spell neither of you wanted to see the aftermath of. There was only so much change a person could bare to their person, so whatever it was that Capitano refused to word, was good as it was. 

Of course, you hadn’t come here for simply the joy of visiting. That never seemed to have formed into a habit, but instead seeking him out when word of him rose from the troops. Anything alluding to his person, not the more usual reputation talk. If that ever changed was when it felt almost mandatory to see him. A difference in the behaviour of a person such as Capitano was sure to never go unnoticed. 

“How was your day?” You broke the silence, seemingly ignoring the reflection from the window. He wasn’t a man to hide himself from you, yet some part of you liked to imagine that respect made you not bring his condition up. Not so soon. 

Waiting for his response after a deep ‘hmp…’ felt like an eternity. Allowing you a chance to slip closer to his desk, eyes skipping mindlessly on the items he’d left there. His words had a deeper growl in them when he spoke so silently, “nothing out of the ordinary.” Which likely was true. Your eyes had scanned the papers on the table, a very few left there to linger. Nothing important ever left for the prying eyes to catch. Yet it proved his words correct, no straight lies ever told. He had no reason to lie to you, to hide anything. But the both of you knew the question had been intended for a deeper analysis of his day instead of an overall view. He hid things. Not out of malice, you knew better than to think such things. 

“That’s good,” you answered soon after. Straightening out a few of the papers, stacking them so the corners met each other in a straight line. The moment was so heavy and you’d only now started to realise as much. There was never much you could do if the murmurs around the troops turned out to be true. He felt so far away even when he was so close, merely on the other side of the desk.

You knew him, better than most, yet he’d seen more than any mortal could likely wrap their head around. So who were you to tell him that it would simply ‘be okay’ or that you were ‘there for him’ when you started to notice his gaze wander. He was not simply sad, he appeared melancholic. But at times even that seemed to be rooted so deep down within him that you couldn’t find a word to describe the emotion radiating from him. And he was unable to give you a word for it. Leaving the now physical distance between the two of you to form into a deeper pit of confusing aches. 

But there was also the root of the problem. This was by no means the first attempt of coming to him, seeking him out and attempting to figure out why his mind wandered. Where it was trying to get for it to be something he couldn’t word. What was the reason for the superficial answers, as if speaking to any one of his soldiers. Why let someone so close, but keep them at the threshold when they were willing to come in?

Though, thoughts like these felt ironic. Knowing you played along with this act of his, not only to entertain him but because it felt easy. How easy it was to allow him to care and dutifully take care of his tasks as he always had, and when it came time to actually connect with him to just let it slide each time. His actions never held any malice nor betrayal, there was no man more loyal to their own morals and comrades than him. So who were you to simply blame him for not letting you closer, when it was you who indulged in his way of communicating. 

“The men seemed to have lived a different day.” You commented after, hoping Capitano would pick up on what you meant. He was not foolish enough to be fully unaware of what his own men were doing and talking about when his back was turned. 

And you’d been correct, the comment made the man look down at you over his shoulder. The piercing eyes of his holding so much in them, it was hard to put to words, but you could tell he knew what you meant. And so you indulged in this way of communicating once more.

Seeing as he had nothing else to ‘say’, you continued. “Thankfully the snowfall gave in on the way here. It was an honest nuisance today…” Continuing to speak of the things you always did, the things you found slipping from your lips each time instead of the actual questions and words you wanted to say. But what use would that be when it felt as if there was no one who truly received those words. 

“Here’s to hope tomorrow will be better on that front,” you continued on alone but knowing full well he was listening, even if he knew exactly the topics you’d choose. The mantras you repeated. His attention on you while you slowly circled around the desk to his side, hand sliding against the smooth surface of the desk. The act as if a final cry to ask for him to reciprocate. 

The fabric of Capitano’s clothes rustled, the movement appearing heavier than they likely truly were. He gave you space near him, allowing you to join him near the window he’d been so keen on. “Hm, may it be so then.” He replied, leaving the end of his response hanging. As if there was more to be added, but left out due to the everlasting heaviness of the room and the air inside it. But you didn’t need more. Past a certain point the conversations you held as a coverup to attempt to communicate started being more tiring than standing in silence to try and understand him better. 

Your eyes gazed at the window, his reflection. Turning to peer at his face soon after. The rot, having consumed so much of the man he used to be, carved him into someone else. You had not seen how he’d looked all those years ago, but he’d insisted that even his comrades from then wouldn’t have been able to recognize him today. 

So how could you ever understand him truly? You weren’t sure what sort of explanation you were waiting to gain from him to make you understand, when there likely was none. He’d seemingly accepted his fate a long time ago, an eternal life ahead of him each morning he woke. Up until the day his body would falter at last. 

But in your eyes that was not a life worth leading on, not with the regrets you knew he held. How could a man rotting from the inside still yearn to fix something that hadn’t even been within his power to save in the first place?

You’d initially not even realised that was likely what he was thinking when his mind started to wander. Not when you’d first seen his face, seen the state he lived in each day. You’d initially feared he held some form of heaviness within him for the way he looked. For a human, losing everything you had and who you were would have been a fate worse than death. Losing the strength you held and the person you had been. Yet he held himself the same each day, seemingly no shame in his condition, if only a flickering light of anguish against the fate he’d been dealt. 

On top of that, he had seemingly never let himself fall to ruin. The person he’d been might have changed into something unrecognisable that could easily disturb the too comfortable. But this was a man of honour, a dignified soldier. For the sake of others, you’d concluded, he diligently kept himself clean. Kept the rot that bothered him not, from causing disturbances to the rest. 

So it was clear, by no means had he given up. He was in terms with who he was now, yet at times like these it seemed like his mind hadn’t. When you so clearly tried conversing, attempting to get him to speak his mind, he refused. Treating you gently, leading your conversation on for long enough to tire you and finally make you stop worrying for him. 

You gave the mask on the table a look, an attempt to lean back towards the topic. Neither of you had forgotten nor had it gone unnoticed by him either. Not now or earlier. 

Capitano followed your movements, eyes landing on the all too familiar mask. Not having to even gaze upon it to know what was being asked of him. And he wished, internally held up hopes that the rot was messing with his mind, feeding him thoughts that weren’t true. That you hadn’t come back to him out of sheer worry yet again.

He was ready to be moulded by you into any shape, ready to yield in front of you if that’s what you asked of him. He cared about what you thought, but in some sense wanted to keep you from worrying. The burdens he held within were self inflicted, he knew that much. A part of him knew the regrets he had were foolish, he couldn’t have done anything more than he had. So when he wasn’t driven mad by those thoughts, he had time to try and form a bond with you. A bond which he wished to not be based on a worry of him. 

He knew you were curious, that was only natural. That was why he’d been open about who he was now, what he could offer you anymore. But what would have been the point of going further into his thoughts, those were his burdens to bear. A fault in himself which he’d created. 

“Your cheek appears irritated?” You said silently, gazing at his face with keen eyes. Pausing for a moment as he turned to face you. “I’m sorry if that-” Backing away from what you’d said a little, cringing if it had come across mockingly. Capitano raised his hand slightly, pausing your rambling. “I know. No need to apologise, you’re fine,” he said after and watched as your expression softened back to normal. 

But you’d been honest, the irritation was no mere frostbite that’d got him. You’d seen it before when he hadn’t had the time to upkeep the condition. A neglect he didn’t participate willingly, but something his work on some occasions forced him to pick up. And which you’d find he let you take care of on those very certain occasions. The least you could do to ease your own worry and the yearning to communicate with him about himself. 

Your hand moved to brush some of his hair from his shoulder to a better position. Running your fingers through it gently so as to not tug him on accident. And he didn’t move, not even if you had. Watching you with the same fond expression he always seemed to. Following keenly when you turned your back to him, abandoning his hair and the caresses he’d grown fond of by that point. Rummaging through the upper drawer of his desk. 

The light in the room was rather dim, not allowing you to see what you were seeking for at first. But your hand knew the shape of the small jar containing a lotion you were familiar with. It was no match for something as detrimental as his condition, but seemingly if this world carried anything that did anything to combat it, it was worth it. 

You fiddled with the jar for a moment, turning it in your hands before daring to look back up at his towering form. He didn’t move an inch, even without the mask he appeared honourable as ever. To you, maybe even more so now. 

An old ache radiating from unsaid words and praises stung your chest at moments like these. An uncountable amount of exalted thoughts of him that you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, to make him understand that you wanted to share his burdens. None of them would make you view him any differently. No matter how many regrets, scars or rotten flesh would face you, he’d still be the same honourable and respected man in your eyes. 

Your eyes gave him an asking look, almost automatic. The request yet again something you couldn’t put into words, and that would leave an awful ache into your chest for not saying. But you adored how he still always understood, hesitated like he’d always done and still ended up accepting. It was you, after all. 

Capitano sat down on the chair behind him. The old wooden thing let out a small noise under the added weight, the room not falling fully silent after. He watched as you undid the lid of the jar, placed it on the table and carefully leaned closer. Taking some of the product onto your finger and with the same tenderness spreading it on the irritated parts. Yet, even from so close up it felt as if some sort of unremovable distance stayed. Always. 

Capitano closed his eyes for a moment, a low breath escaping him as his form allowed his shoulders to ease ever so slightly. Your touch was always gentle and careful, no matter how far he kept you from his burdens and regrets. So who was he to completely refuse your care? He never wished to turn you down or push you away, but he’d also had the time to rot for 500 years. Building something like this was exceptionally hard, and he’d only now come to figure out what that meant truly. 

You made sure the salve was nicely spread before pulling back, watching as his eyes opened after. Feeling how they followed you when returning back to the lid to put it back on. With movements clearly familiar to the situation, you placed the jar back into its rightful place, closing the drawer with a faint thud. 

“Thank you,” his low voice called out with the familiar growl at the end of his words. Capitano leaned onto his knees, pushing himself up from the chair to return back to the window. His silhouette appeared more frail than when he had the thick cloak on, something that somehow still surprised you every now and then. He was by no means a small man to begin with, yet the cloak changed him so much. Making you wonder if that was why he preferred wearing it so. 

You watched him walk up to the window, this time clearly gazing out rather than at his reflection. Following the now faint snowfall outside in silence. Following along from the side, attention moving back to his reflection at what almost felt like force. Mind so occupied by him it felt impossible to focus on the weather outside. 

You felt almost on edge with how much you wanted to tell him, let him know of what you thought about him to get him to tell you more. It felt almost as if something in your chest stung each time a good moment like this was spent in silence. 

Which was why you almost jumped when he began to speak, not turning around to do so, but nevertheless. “I understand you have your fair share of curiosities about this. But allow me to be selfish, and have you without burdens. And if that by itself is a burden too heavy to carry, you’re not obligated to stay. Know, you are respected even then.” Capitano’s familiar voice spoke, this time for longer than you’d heard during this entire time. Leaving you slightly shaken for a moment, though for an odd reason the air didn’t feel heavy. As if air itself had paused to allow you this conversation. 

And it stayed that way as you walked behind him, hesitating for a moment before placing your forehead against his broad back. Arms sneaking gently around his waist, lose in their hold as your eyes closed. You took a deep breath, mind ticking to form a response. Feeling Capitano tense for a mere moment in the hold before his muscles eased once more. 

Normally, no matter how many walls of protection you shattered from around him, he didn’t seem to react to anything. No matter if he was wearing the helmet or not. A part of you wondering if the corrosion was a sort of a mask itself. 

“I’m not going anywhere. But I don’t want the way I see you to be written on your epitaph. Let me in, make this easier.” The words coming out in a whisper loud enough for him to hear, but not disturb the usual silence. 

A low chuckle escaped Capitano, a part of him amused by the plea. But nevertheless taking it seriously, knowing you’d meant it. “You’re more hopeful than I am,” he replied with a hum. Placing his hands over yours, against himself. Pressing them together lightly, as if hoping that was an answer enough. Aware that it wasn’t, but using it as a way to ask for more time. 

He feared he’d overstep a boundary of sorts, if he told you of his thoughts on a deeper level. He didn’t wish to put them on your shoulders, protecting you from himself in a way. If that was one of the only things he could do for you, not expecting anything from you in return, ever. 

The squeeze from his hands made you lean against him more heavily, a gentle sigh escaping. Not bothering to feel frustrated, not at him. The curse wasn’t his fault, what’d happened to him wasn't his fault and he was in no way obligated to ever let someone so close as he’d allowed you. So even the smallest of actions kept you close to being carefree, in the sense that you didn’t fear that there was no way to help him. There was, and you’d allow him to show that path to you on his own terms. 

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hey there hope you’re doing well just wondering what kind of jobs do you think the characters of hellsing have in a normal life?

Ayoo here's a collection of silly ideas from the Hellsing Discord mostly (and some scraps of my last braincells):

Alucard teaches history and is obsessed with wars specifically. Infodumps about brutal facts a concerningly amount.

Anderson would be either a librarian, a kindergarden teacher every parent feels mildly intimidated by (but the kids love him very much), or a theology professor.

Seras would be a personal trainer or a bodyguard that always gets underestemated until she kicks their butt.

Integra was supposed to inherit her father's business but became a lawyer that specializes in enforcing human rights.

Walter is an undercover agent that works as a butler to unveil Arthur's massive tax fraud.

Pip is a temp worker that's talented with everything but still can't keep a job for two weeks straight because of his attitude.

Maxwell becomes one of those redpill influencers that sells bullshit to his naive followers and makes thirst edits of himself.

Heinkel gives classes for material arts or sports.

Yumie would be a school counselor or a nurse with an open ear for everyone.

Jan and Luke own the club they had in Hellsing Gonzo. Jan ends up in prison often but his brother somehow always bails him out.

The Captain is an ex-soldier with a lot of confirmed kills. Retires to become a dog-walker or work in an animal shelter.

The Major would either be an evil CEO or the leader of a cult-like commune that claims they don't fit into today's society (definetly commits felonies either way).

The Doc would be a chef, a fashion designer, or one of those surgeons with questionable PHD that offers body modification operations in his basement.

Rip writes dark romance novels that sell surprisingly well with the booktok girlies (we all know her Tumblr would be fire).

Zorin is a tattoo artist with a side business on etsy (she scams people by selling fake magic stuff).

Dandy has no job, he literally scams people with gambling and card tricks.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Ok in honor of the new boyfriend selfie ruben posted, can u pls write something about him as a boyfriend. Like him being really needy to his gf, sending her silly pics like that when they’re away, and being very clingy and constantly needing affection from the gf when they are finally at home together

Here it is! Hope you like it, please let me know!😌

Needy, Cute and Manly Boyfriend -R.D3

Summary: He loves having your attention

You couldn't help but smile at your phone. Your 3 years boyfriend, Rúben sent you a pic of himself and your dog, Simba. You instantly replied with a quick "my baby's😍❤️. Love you both so much"

Soon Rúben sent another selfie, this one only of himself, at the bottom there was a text "What time you'll be home? I miss you"

You were going to reply but were interrupted by a call from you boyfriend, you quickly answered it.

"Meu amor" He said "I miss you"

"I miss you too, babe; but I still have another class to go, I'll be out in about an hour and a half, after that I'm all yours"

"You already are mine"

"Well yes but you know what I mean" Rúben chuckles

"Let me know, I'll pick go and pick you up"

"Thanks, Rú. But there's no need, Lisa can give me a ride home, you're pretty tired baby, have some rest"

"None of that. You said an hour and a half, right? I'll be there"

"You're so stubborn"

"Teimoso e tudo mas é assim que me amas" (Stubborn and everything but that's how you love me)

You smile nodding "That I do" You blow him a kiss "I need to go to class right now but I'll text you as soon as I'm done, handsome"

"You do that, bonita" (beautiful) He blows a kiss into the phone "Eu amo-te, amor"

"Love you too, baby. See ya later" and with that you hung up the call and entered your class.

After what felt like an eternity you went out discussing some points with your best friend.

"But it doesn't matter if we are different mentions?"

"I don't think so to be honest"

"And what about that neurology oratory? You're planning on going?" You nod

"Dr. Jones will do it and I think it will be good, you know? He's one of the best out here and it'll fantastic if I can do my internships in his hospital"

"You're good, you will do!" She nudges your shoulder

"We don't know about that, I need to be the first one in class"

"As if you aren't?" You gave her a look before she smirked "Prince charming's here for you" You turned around to see a very well known Ferrari and your boyfriend leaning up against the car with a cap on his head. "See ya, girl!" Lisa hugged you over your shoulders, kissed you cheek and let you go

"See ya, Li" You smiled at her before walking up to your boyfriend. "Hello"

"Hello, meu Amor" You quickly gave him a kiss on his lips, his hands went over to your waist pulling you closer "Let's go home?" You nod with a smile on.

He kisses your cheek before opening the door for you and helping you get in.

You push your backpack to the backseat and wait for Rúben to start the car.

"How was your day, querida?" (Darling) He asks, his hand going straight to your thigh

"It was good! We did a pop quiz, teacher told us to go out whenever we finished and at the end he gave us the results right there and then"

"How did it go?"

"Amazing!" You smile widely "I absolutely rubbed my full grade into his face"

"Is that professor the one you told me about?" You hum "What was his nickname? Doc. Mean?" You hum

"He's just awful" He laughs "And he looks exactly like Emmet Brown"

"The doc from Back to the Future?" You nod and Rúben squeezes your thigh laughing "He does look like him"

"Awful" You laugh with him as you watch how he changes the route to your house "You need to go somewhere?"

"We are going somewhere" He put emphasis to the we

"Where are we going then?"

"To get some burgers"

"You don't eat them"

"But you do" He shrugs "I can have a little cheat day"

"You having a cheat day?" Rúben looks at you during a red light "What did you do to my boyfriend?"

"No. What did you do to me? I never break a diet until you came around"

"So I'm at fault?"

"More or less, you love burgers and I love you. Having a burger once in a while won't kill me"

"It better not. I'll be a widow even before getting married"

"That's definitely something we don't want"

"Definitely not" You grip his hand with one of yours and hug his arm with the other "Can you also get me a?" -

"Double meat, double cheese burger with extra fries and a chocolate chip cookie? I know"

"I know you know... But I wanted-"

"An iced caramel mocha?" You look at him narrowing your eyes

"You know me"

"I have to, tu és a minha menina" (you're my girl) you smiled feeling him leaning over the console to kiss you quickly. He rolled down the window and greeted the worker before ordering.

A few minutes later, both of you were on your way back to your house, singing and humming along the songs on your shared playlist.

"Gonna take a quick shower, I'll be back in ten" You said as soon as you got inside, however Simba made it difficult for you, he wanted his attention. "You're my babyboy but you gotta let me go and take a shower, baby"

"Simba, I'm the only one who can jump on her!" You heard Rúben's voice inside the kitchen and then you heard the blender go on

"Dad's jealous. You're my baby" You kissed his fourry face.

"Weren't you going to shower?"

"I'm giving my baby love"

"You don't need to give Simba that much of love, you can give it to me"

"Are you jealous of a dog?"

"Pufff!" He gave you a look "Obviously yes. I'm supposed to be the only one you give your love and attention to"

"You are. But also is Simba" You kissed the dog's head once again

"Nonono!" His cries made you laugh "Simba, get off!"

"He likes the attention way too much"

"Even I do if it's yours!" You break in laughter

"You know I'll give you all my attention after I shower and eat?"

"What are you waiting for to do that?" He asks making you laugh more

"You are so jealous of your dog"

"I am!"

"Please don't take it in the wrong way but you're so needy, I love it"

"I'm not needy"

"És tão giro" (You're so cute) You said in between giggles

"Sou um homem viril, não sou giro" (I'm a manly man, I'm not cute)

"You are both, actually"

"Go take a shower, I'll set something up so we can watch while we eat and you love on me"

"Sounds like a deal" Rúben smiled before turning around to the kitchen "Hey" You call him as he turns

"What?"

You grab his hand and pull him down so you could kiss his lips softly "My needy, cute and manly boyfriend"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[blogoftheendless]

Marks on the doorframe

Hey I found this in my docs with absolutely no memory of having thought of it or written it. Maybe continue it someday...

Hob invites Dream with him for a family holiday and Dream is adopted into the family whether he likes it or not. There’s only one bed (Hob’s childhood/ teenage room). Modern all human AU

“All right, budge up. Back nice and straight. And I’m not counting that ridiculous hair of yours, I’m squishing it down. Okay, there.” 

Dream slowly stepped away from the doorframe, out of Hob’s warmth. Hob was still focused on his task, and Dream watched him neatly write “Dream 4/7/23” on the wood. He was there now, indelibly, with all the marks labeled Hob and Elsie and Jenny, marching up the wood as they grew and laughed and filled this space with their love. Dream’s breath caught, suddenly overcome with his friend’s kindness. 

“There,” Hob repeated, smiling softly at him. He rubbed his thumb over the words he’d just written, then let his thumb fall away.

[heartfeltcherie]

❝come and get it now❞

notes; birthday present for myself! this is also my first time writing something not rated pg-13 so my apologies if it’s not the greatest.

wc; i was too lazy to paste everything to google docs to figure out how many words were written lolz

warnings: mentions of smoking weed, making out, suggestive at the end. minors please don’t interact lol

you emerge into the lounge area, looking for something— anything —to do, pure boredom clogging up your mind. you see alastor and your dead heart skips a beat.

only he’s capable of doing that.

shades of red cast in through the open door of the hotel. alastor leans against the doorway casually, smoke dancing from his lips so gracefully you’d swear he was doing it on purpose to put you in a trance.

“penny for your thoughts?” you didn’t realize you were staring. “are you smoking weed?” a dumb question. you know a blunt when you see one. “indeed it is, my dear” he answers back so smoothly and casually, like seeing him doing such a thing is completely normal.

you take a few tentative steps closer to him. he’s got his eyes trained on the outside of the pride ring. his side profile looks so beautiful. and the way he holds that blunt between his fingers with such elegance and… care? god, you wish it was your hand he was holding instead.

“didn’t take you to be a smoker” you joke playfully, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway, one leg crossed in front of the other. alastor chuckles at you. “there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, belle” he takes another drag and blows out the smoke… your gaze goes to his lips. “my eyes are up here, darling” your eyes widen and your face feels hot as he curves his finger under your chin to tilt your head up. his eyes are so beautiful under hell’s red glow.

you both stay like that for what seems like forever, time ticking by slowly as you put a tentative hand around his wrist, carefully testing the waters. and it surprises you when he doesn’t pull away or make the distance between you two less…

he stays. and instead he uses his thumb to gently pull your bottom lip down, moving his thumb across it so teasingly and tauntingly — but what else did you expect? it’s alastor for hell’s sake. but it doesn’t stop the sudden urge you feel to open your mouth fully for his thumb to enter your mouth.

fuck…

“something on your mind, cher?” alastor’s voice breaks through the silence with a smirk on his face; yeah, a certain radio demon and how badly i wanna kiss him. “may i try it?” alastor tilts his head at you, his radio coming through with muffles. “the weed”

alastor stands up straight again, taking his hand away from you (it feels cold there now). he lets out a hum, taking another puff. “oh, if you so must” he passes it to you and it gives you butterflies that your lips will be where his were in just a matter of seconds.

he watches as you put the rolled joint between your lips and he swears to himself that he’s never seen you look more angelic — which is the funniest thing, he thinks, utmost hilarious, considering you’re in the depths of hell. you breathe in the intoxicating air but your lungs decide it would be fun to betray you, making you begin coughing an ungodly amount. alastor laughs at you.

what an ass.

“al, you’re mean! i could’ve died!” you put a hand over your chest, catching your breath. “oh the dramatics, my dear. it was simply just smoke! you wouldn’t have died”

“i deserve a redo”

“a redo you say? hmm…” alastor makes a thinking face for a moment before a smirk graces his face again. he gently takes the joint out of your hand. “my dear, i’m gonna need you to stay completely still for this” you nod and watch as he takes the joint between his lips again, breathing in with ease. he leans down again, cupping your chin with his other hand as the joint rests to the side of him. he uses his thumb, again, to gently pull your bottom lip down as he so-gracefully blows the smoke into your parted lips.

you feel so giddy having an intimate moment like this with hell’s most feared overlord. it makes you wonder why people think he’s so scary when he’s always the utmost gentleman… with you.

your eyes are closed as you feel his hand go from your chin to your hip, clutching onto the material of your clothing like a vice as you put your hands over top his chest and you swear you can feel his heart beating. it’s intoxicating and dizzying and it puts you in a daze when everything’s finished. you open your half lidded eyes and he’s still nose-to-nose with you.

“was that better?” alastor looks at you with hooded eyes and all you can do is nod, feeling like you’re not even on the ground anymore. he chuckles. “oh darling, you’re too adorable…” he brings his hand back up to your cheek, stroking your skin gently with his thumb. “especially in this state”

then do something about it, you wanna say.

“al?”

you swear you see him looking at your lips the same way you’re looking at his; with hunger, want, need, desire, like you’ll die if you don’t get to know the feeling of each other’s lips.

fuck it.

“what will it take for you to kiss me already”

and that sentence is all it takes for alastor to break the distance between you both, crashing his lips onto yours in a fervent motion. you sigh against his lips, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his coat because if you don’t, he might disappear. he tosses the forgotten joint somewhere outside, not caring where it lands as his only focus is hitching your leg against his hip and holding it there as he keeps kissing you with so much passion and hunger that it takes your breath away every time you hear your lips smacking together. you’re feeling so turned on and the high gives you this cloud nine feel and—

oh my fucking god, i’m high and making out with the radio demon.

alastor puts both hands on your hips as he mutters a small “jump”, refusing to bring this make out session to a halt for even a couple seconds. you happily comply as you jump into alastor’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands cup your butt, giving a gentle squeeze and he can’t help but chuckle lowly as you gasp into his mouth. he walks you both over to the couch, stopping at the side of the arm rest before he gently lays you down on the couch. the kissing stops for just a second (much to both of your dismays) so you can watch as he crawls over top of you like a predator about to pounce on his prey.

you part your legs so he has space to slot between and oh boy do the butterflies tickle your tummy with their wings seeing him on top of you like this. your face feels like lava.

“you know, my dear, i was planning on properly courting you before doing such explicit things,” he moves some hair out of your face, looking at you with hooded eyes. “but my mind is filled with thoughts that make me less of a gentleman” you bring your fingers to card through his hair.

“i don’t want you to be a gentleman with me, al. not right now”

alastor smirks and you swear you see his pupils turn to radio dials as he leans into your neck and says lowly in your ear,

“good girl”

tags; @alastorthirsty

comments/reblogs are appreciated ♡ also! if you liked what you read, consider asking to be on my taglist :)

[minniethemoocherda]

A Spoonful of Sugar

A/N: My first Sonic fic! I feel like I've unlocked an Internet Achievement lol. Anyway I am loving all the fics of Stone adopting Shadow after the events of Sonic 3 so I had to write my own! Hope you guys enjoy it! Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

"… with whipped cream, marshmallows, sprinkles, two shots of vanilla, three of cinnamon and a chocolate chip cookie melted on top please!"

Stone fought back a grimace at the blue hedgehog's latte order, if one could even still call it a latte after everything Sonic wanted to ruin it with. Stone wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't some sort of twisted revenge for the admittedly many times he had tried to kill him.

However they had been able to come to a truce in the past months, with them agreeing not to try to kill each other after Stone re-opened The Mean Bean. This left Stone with no choice but to settle on the hypothesis that the hedgehog was just insane.

After handing over his pocket money, Sonic sped over to his brothers' table by the window and this time Stone was unable to hold back his grimace as the speedster once again burned streaks into his oak floor.

Biting back a curse, Stone shoved the change into the register before handing over a copy of the order to his barista.

Shadow took the piece of paper with a determined nod. He then went straight to work on the machine, each dial and instrument moved with perfect precision as he focused his entire energy in to his new mission.

Stone didn't even try to hold back his smile. Shadow had come a long way since Stone had first found him unconscious in that creator, bruised and broken to almost beyond recognition. And so had Stone. Honestly after everything that had happened, he'd been ready to end it all. But saving Shadow had given him a purpose. And he'd been able to provide one for the hedgehog in return.

They still had a long way to go. Shadow was still simultaneously convinced that Stone was going to kick him out of the spare room or keep him locked up there for another fifty years. But every night they would watch a new episode of La Ultima Passion together and Shadow had finally agreed to see the private tutor Stone had hired to get his schooling up to speed alongside his employment at The Mean Bean. Plus Stone couldn't deny that the hedgehog looked adorable in the custom child sized apron Stone had ordered for him. Even if he did have a habit of eating the speciality coffee beans straight out of the tin.

As Stone took advantage of the break in customers to clean the counter, he caught Sonic trying to catch Shadow's eye but the barista must've seen the other hedgehog's attempts in the reflection of the metal coffee machine and had decided purposefully ignoring him.

Eventually Sonic gave up, going back to talking a mile a minute to his brothers.

Nobody in the coffee shop batted an eye at the sight if three alien children. The people of Green Hills were long used to the sight. Hell, Stone had once been their sworn enemy and even he didn't find it odd for the trio to visit The Mean Bean during their own tutoring breaks, (in fact it had been Mrs Wachoski who had put Stone in touch with company behind the boys' own tutors).

Stone saw Sonic snort as Knuckles swore revenge on his frappe for giving him a brain freeze, the blue hedgehog nearly choking on the muffin he must've nabbed with his super speed without Stone noticing.

The sun beamed through the wooden frame of the window and for a moment, Sonic was bathed in a golden glow like he had the day he had absorbed the power of the Master Emerald to stop the Doc-

Stone tried to stop that train of thought. But it was too late. Suddenly all Stone could think about was the Doctor and that day and how from the wreckage he had healed the Doctor back to health and that even now he couldn't stop the hope and guilt that the Doctor was still alive out there waiting for help even though it had been months and all the evidence proved that the Doctor was really dead this time and-

"FUCK!"

Stone startled at the sudden curse.

He spun around to see Shadow snap his hand back from where it had been held under the steamer. Strangely, there was no cup in Shadow's hand, the bio-degradable Styrofoam still on the counter. For a second, Stone wondered what could have caused Shadow to forget it, but that question was quickly pushed to the back of his mind as he focused on the more pressing matter.

It was mid-morning so most people in Green Hills were already at work with the few children there at the school in the next town over. Besides the three aliens the only other costumers were Crazy Carl and a group of retired old ladies playing poker in the corner. Stone placed a small sign on the register that they'd be back soon before guiding Shadow through to the kitchen.

"Can I see you hand?" In their short time together, Stone had learnt early on to present any medical concerns as a question instead of a demand.

Shadow took of his glove and held it out without complaint, still conditioned to listen to doctors lest he face the punishments.

There was a burn on the edge of his palm, the red and black fur slightly singed and the usually tan skin underneath was staring to blister pink.

"We're going to need to hold it under the cold tap for a while to cool your skin down. Then I can wipe it with some antiseptic to make sure it doesn't get infected." Stone said, making sure to explain the reason behind the treatment.

Shadow nodded, his nose and eyes scrunched as he braced for the impact of the cold water of the sink.

It was nothing compared to the injuries that Stone had helped to heal him from as well as whatever hell he'd been through in those labs.

Still he flinched as the cold continued pouring onto his hand.

"We can take a break if you want?" Stone offered.

Shadow's eyes widened, as though ever after all this time, he still couldn't believe that Stone was giving him a choice. Before his eyes soon narrowed into familiar slits.

"No." Shadow stated, that steel determination present in his voice that Stone knew meant it would be impossible to change his mind. As much as Stone didn't want Shadow to force himself through more pain, he was proud that the hedgehog was standing up for his own medical desires.

After a few more minutes, Stone turned the water off, then as gentle as he could, stroked an antiseptic wipe over the burn. Thankfully it wasn't very deep. It would probably hurt for the next hour but should fully heal within a few days.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?" Stone asked.

"Not anymore. But before my cheeks were warm, my pulse quickened and I felt as though some of your Earthling butterfly creatures had infested my stomach."

Oh, Stone thought, coming to a quick diagnosis. He was all too familiar with that set of symptoms, having suffered from them the entire time he had known the Doctor.

He missed them.

Now whenever he thought of the late Ivo Robotnik, he felt an empty sense of sickness.

Still for Shadow's sake, he swallowed his feelings and put on a smile.

"I think I know how to fix that. Spending time with another anthropomorphic hedgehog should alleviate them. And since you're going to take the rest of the day off to heal your hand, why don't you go do that now?"

Shadow wasn't stupid. Judging by the glare he was currently aiming at the former agent, he knew that Stone was hiding something. However he must've come to the conclusion that he wasn't straight up lying, which he wasn't, as eventually Shadow nodded.

"Great! I'll make Sonic's order then you can take it to him as an excuse to talk to him."

"Fine." Shadow hmphed, following Stone back behind the counter.

Stone remade the abomination of a latte before handing it over to Shadow.

Stone watched as he marched straight over to the window, handing the cup of to the fellow hedgehog as though he were issuing an arrest warrant. Sonic didn't seem to mind Shadow's stony disposition, already babbling on as he thanked Shadow for how amazing the latte was even though he hadn't even taken a sip yet and Shadow hadn't even been the one to make it himself. It would go unnoticed by most, but Stone was easily apply to recognise how the corner of Shadow's lips twitched into a smirk at Sonic's antics.

The scene reminded Stone of when he'd first met the Doctor. Wasting his engineering degree working in a brand named cafe when the most striking man he'd ever seen walked in to order the most striking order he'd ever made to then hire Stone on the spot after he'd taken one sip.

For the first time since everything had gone to shit, instead of feeling sick, the thought of The Doctor made Stone smile.

One that grew even larger as he over heard Shadow call Sonic an idiot for attempting to down the entirety of his drink in one gulp.

And over dinner, Shadow later told him that he was full of shit as spending more time with Sonic only made his symptoms worse.