#and sometimes that helps but sometimes all you can do is cry about it and nothing changes and you just have to live with it

[callilypso]

II ▷ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 — " cold hands, warm hearts "

part 1 of the 𝐥&𝐝𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 [other parts: xavier, rafayel, sylus]

— exploring Zayne as a father, both of Your children’s relationships with You and their Dad, as well as delving into their passions and personalities

note: each LI has different MCs, meaning each child/ren of the other LIs have different mothers and aren't related

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: fluff, fluff, and flufffff, some crack, and some teeny bit of angst (if you squint); the kids are ocs

❥ a/n: i have many, many plans for all of these babies >:) there's nothing too serious yet i promise. feel free to add more of your own ideas i would looove to know them i will srsly cry in joy. pls be nice tho c:

0:02 ───|────────────────────────

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 has two children: an eldest son and his youngest, a daughter. He is The Dad™ amongst all dads, and I know most would agree. He's a very hands-on father, and definitely the stricter one between the two of you especially when it comes to their health. Unfortunately, his babies took after some of their mother's uh.. concerning habits, but nonetheless, he will never get tired of taking care of his family. As much as they can be a source of stress for his poor heart, his joy will always be from them too.

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐘 — “Cae”, ”Ace”

his eldest, name based from Caleb in his honor (assuming he is truly dead at this time), and Zayne thought it was perfect

he is a literal Carbon Copy of Zayne, except his eyes shaped and color like his mother's

as a baby, he rarely cried and whined, almost picture perfect, however.. it was an absolute pain when they were trying to start feeding him solids

grew up to be a picky eater even well into his adulthood, very particular about textures and smells. he absolutely hates ketchup and anything with tomato sauce, dislikes sour-sweet things and any seafood

You had an idea to try giving him a teensy bit of chocolate at age 2, and he hated it—the sticky texture was off putting

it had Zayne doubting for a moment if Casey was truly his offspring as if he wasn't there to witness the delivery, your hand crushing his in a grip he wasn't sure was physically possible without breaking each other's hands.

Zayne learned to adjust to his needs though, trying to accommodate both his preferences as well as still giving him the proper nutrition. MC at least taught him to try anything just at least once

his role model was truly his Dad, adopting his gentleman mannerisms and kindness for others

would often be brought to work with Zayne after school, behaving well in his office as he browses through some of his Dad's medical books, and would ask him questions to clarify

a lot of questions, sometimes Zayne gets a little too distracted but he will never blame the sweet boy

little darling of the Akso hospital, always greeted by the nurses and doctors of the facilities as he passes by trying to snoop around

he looooves the nurses’ desk, listening intently at all the different stories about their daily life as health workers, from sad to crazy to funny 

would often be given chocolate much to his dismay.. it all ends up going to Zayne and his sister in the end

a smart, reliable, kind, and generous boy, eager to help others in need inspired by both his parents and his healthcare workers environment

from helping his struggling classmates to understand the lessons better, to assisting the elderly cross a busy street

can be a little bit of a people pleaser… just a tiny bit (a lot)

Zayne and MC has never given or voiced expectations on what standards he should be, unfortunately, it doesn't stop outsiders from doing so

growing up, he's felt the weight with each whisper—he is the son of The Dr. Zayne, best cardiologist of his generation in the whole country

it's genuinely one of his inspirations to strive for the best, although in his teens it kind of grows into a toxic perfectionism and competitive comparisons

that's right, he's the burnt out overachiever, a constant at the Dean's List, hence why his peers started to call him “Ace”

disciplined and responsible, although can be prone to anxiety

as a brother, he's protective of his little sister too, sometimes he even outdoes both You and Zayne in strictness.

he likes to think he's a lot more restrained but he's actually very readable.. the boy cannot lie to save his life

a natural approachable charismatic leader

since he was a child, he was Zayne’s own personal 'physician' after work, giving his Dad a full ‘check up’ because he knows being a doctor is hard, but truthfully Zayne’s stress melts away the moment he's greeted by his beaming grin as he runs into his arms, his son's baby shampoo and fresh laundry scent calming his senses instantly

he treats him with shoulder rubs, hand massages, forehead massages, even learning to brew Zayne’s prefered coffee blend, and ah yes with his daily dose of much needed sweets

his relationship with you.. let's just say you get double the doctor now, aka you're very well taken care of and yes, you're also getting treated with the same little services he does for his Dad

although as he grew older, he started being more concerned at the amount of sweets his Dad takes 

If Zayne's constantly pestering you about your health, now he's getting a taste of his own medicine by a mini version of him hiding his stashes of sweets little by little

“Son, we don't have a history of diabetes in our heredity.” Zayne argues, as Casey hugs his stash of chocolates he swore he's hidden in his locked drawer.

“But that doesn't mean you can't.. A small chance is still a chance. ” Cae retorts back as he pinches his nose bridge, and Zayne swears he's looking at a mirror right now.

“How do you even..” Zayne sighs, feeling both proud and defeated because his 8 year old little genius son is actually right. “Cae, I haven't even gotten any sweets this entire day.”

“You had cake, ice cream, and chocolates yesterday—and a smoothie!”

Zayne sighs again, heavier. Unfortunately, that was also true, and it shouldn't have been something he knew about unless..

"Did your mom put you up to this?" Zayne asks. Casey shifts on his feet, averting his gaze, clearly uncomfortable being eyed by his father at the moment. A smile quirks on Zayne's lips.

"No.." Casey answers after a beat of silence, clearly a lie, and Zayne wants to pinch his puffed cheeks. He looked more like you at that moment, absolutely adorable. Something was squeezing Zayne's chest right now.

"Hm.. Well, do I at least get another alternative?" Zayne tries to bargain.

"Um.. I don't know..?" Casey answers honestly.

Zayne settles down his swivel chair, arms beckoning him to come closer, and Casey does. He gets pulled on his father's left thigh, eyes confused at Zayne snickering at him.

"Since you lied—" Cae tenses in his hold, "—I'm just gonna chew you instead."

"Wha—No!" Casey begins to helplessly wiggle out of Zayne's secure grip, but his cheek was already being bitten by his dad. No real teeth, as Zayne tucked his lips inward to cover them.

The office was filled with childish giggling as Zayne continues to relieves his stress through cuteness aggression, play biting and tickling him to near tears.

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 — “Lili” , “Lianne”

youngest daughter with a 4 year age gap from Casey, and to say the least: a Danger Magnet

single handed increased Zayne's gray hairs and high blood pressure tendencies before age 40 

the baby proofing of the house gets doubled

truly a spitting image of You, except with her father's verdant green and hazel golden eyes

even more unfortunate for Zayne, she's got your prankster habits

she's double jointed, making her extremely flexible.. and also prone to dislocations.

she does a backflip in front of Zayne and he nearly dies of a heart attack because he thought she would crack her head open

at age 3, put lotion on Zayne's coffee. no one knows the reason why, except now you hide all your skincare somewhere else and Zayne now knows what SPF tastes like

at age 4, attempted to wrestle with a wild goose at the park, towering over her small frame.. her battle scars are still evident well into her teens

at age 5, managed to get a hold of some alcohol thinking it was juice… yeh You and Zayne can never ever rest

but despite all that, Zayne, You, and Casey are extremely supportive of her passion as a figure skater

saw Yuzuru Hanyu once live and it stuck to her ever since, begging and crying Zayne and You to allow her to train

growing up, she's The Yapper of the family—doesn’t matter if you listen to her or not, she will talk. sometimes it's like Zayne's personal white noise ASMR to lull him to sleep.

and contrary to all that's happened in her childhood, she does value her family's trust in her, especially Zayne's

and is actually very responsible, never does alcohol (she remembers the taste ever since.. it was not nice), hates the smell of smoke/vape, never goes beyond the curfew, and actually takes good care of her health and wellness more consistently than Casey ironically

competitive at heart, also a perfectionist.. maybe a little more than Cae. 

‘second place is the first loser’ mentality 

at age of 19, she's an internationally competitive and well renowned skater

her relationship with her Dad has its ups and downs, but she's never taken their misunderstandings into grudges, as communication is very important to her to establish trust

if her brother is acts of service in showing love, she's definitely quality of time

she's very outgoing, preferring to spend time together doing activities, from simple night walks in the park, coffee hang outs, to wall climbing and hiking

literally gets bored out her mind staying at home for more than half a day

a major travel girlie, with a vast collection of photos and vlogs—and you bet Zayne has them all watched and saved (and its also her way of documentation that, yes, she's in fact safe and sound)

the family will always try to attend every major competition Lianne has no matter how busy they get, securing tickets and lodgings months in advance if it's overseas

Zayne's chest swells with pride, watching her glide gracefully on ice, burning passion in her eyes. You squeeze his hand and hold your breath every single time she's about to attempt a triple axle, and he too would squeeze back. immediately, you would squeal in delight at her successful landings, cheering loudly and borderline embarrassing.

“THAT'S MY GIRL!!” 

both of you have witnessed the blood, sweat, and tears she's poured in every practice, being there for her as much you can every step of the way

definitely shares the same sweet tooth as Zayne, so they're sneaking each other sweets behind You and Cae’s back.

often jokes that she's Zayne's true child because of it and Cae just rolls his eyes at her every time. "Nothing screams father-daughter more than matching cavities I guess."

Zayne and Lianne have their favorite spots for their sweet tooth adventures, most notably their whole family’s favorite: Destiny's Cafe

Walking down Linkon City’s city lights, the cool autumn night air blows through the streets. It made Lianne shiver, snuggling closer to her father's arm she's hooked her own to. Zayne raises his eyebrow at her, placing a hand over hers.

He sighs. “This is why you should have taken that scarf, Lili.”

“Eh, it's fiiine—I’m always on ice, this is nothing. Plus, I have my dad.” Lianne leans on his shoulder and she throws him a smile, and he returns it.

“You really know what to say, hm?” He chuckles. 

They arrive at their usual night cafe spot, soaking in the warmth provided by the establishment. Lianne insisted she would be the one treating them tonight, Zayne relenting reluctantly after some time.

“You know, your brother would be scolding us again if he sees us here for the third time this week.” Zayne chuckles as their slices of cake and cups of coffee arrive on their table.

Lianne laughs. “Don't worryyy, he's on duty until tomorrow morning, and Mom can't snitch either since she's on a mission. Besides..” she trails off as she took a bite of her own slice, Zayne not catching the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Zayne takes a piece in his mouth, and as he began to chew, the moistness of the sweet treat was both familiar and.. wrong. He looks back up at her, seeing her little smirk.

“.. it's a healthy cake.” 

“!—Lianne-” Zayne hastily swallows the piece and downs his coffee as she began to laugh at his agony of realization.

It was Casey's favorite flavor: carrot cake.

11:11──────────────────────────|──

acc tags: @starmocha @77gigabytes tysm for your zayne kids hcs aaaaa they rlly inspired me more and i got rlly excited when my own hcs appeared in urs <333

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off these fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and that he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lips tremble before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your back gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you wash up, then dry off, and put your clothes on. You could almost cry from his attentiveness.

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him gratefully and lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and you hold each other for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room.

There, the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[zarathelonewolf]

Some people need to write in this absence of courage though, and purely because of it, and purely FOR it.

Not to say that I don't get your point: it is a good point and I would like to see more hopeful dark stories, stories similar to what you prefer. I would prefer them too, ideally.

However sometimes people really do not have the courage to "want something better, to know that it was wrong"... Because to THEM (and I say this as someone who is similar to them to an extent, though I fight everyday to be hopeful) it does not seem like an act of courage, it seems like an act of insolence.

Why insolence? Because of a lot of things.

"How dare you (general you, not you, OP) want something better? The result of what was done for you is a negative thing that pushes you to do negative things, how dare you think that you should want something better?"

This is the insolence I speak of. The insolence they think they are culpable of. Sometimes people really do need to show the trauma "bare". They need to write out the negative voice. It's what they know and they feel isolated because people keep telling them it'll get better but they are not there yet, so they want to show their frustration. They may want to reject the idea of not taking up space, alternatively, when they show their trauma: so they show it in a gritty manner and without solution to spite the people that tell them they should just keep it all in unless they have healed, or unless they have the intention of doing so.

It may not be hopeful dark art, that's true. But that's not what dark stories HAVE TO be in order to be "good art", either. They don't want to fix something. They just want to show it. They are "vent art".

And it is needed. By people that don't have the "courage" yet, that maybe won't ever have that courage. They need to see something other than their mind crumble... something other than their body, something other than their voice, something other than their memory while it's crumbling. They need to see a story that crumbles without getting back up. That way they feel less alone, perhaps. They feel that the suffering is real and that it does not need healing to be considered suffering. Especially when others interact with the story and cry alongside them while in a similar situation.

A weird broken sort of solace so to speak.

Is it nice? No, not really. But in certain moments of people's lives it's what they need. In a twisted sense, for some people, all they will ever want to experience. It's not just insolence after all. For certain people, darkness itself is the refuge, because the world outside is too bright and a lot people want to be rid of their dark thoughts and want the victims themselves to be rid of the dark thoughts and find a solution for them, whereas these victims just CAN'T, they can't manage yet and they feel inadequate so they produce something that makes them feel like they matter for something.

Something dark and gritty and hopeless.

Art isn't good due to the fact that it expresses correct values. Art is good because it makes you feel, or merely because you feel drawn to interacting with it. Same goes for dark art. It is good dark art when it makes you feel dark stuff, whether or not it heads towards a good or bad ending.

I say this as someone who is hopeless about herself and himself and hopeful for others. Weird right? But it's how I exist. People's comfort sometimes makes me feel even lonelier. I would prefer silence and reading dark content AND hurt/comfort most of the time.

I come from a place of being pressured into healing. I want to heal on my own now, I don't trust therapists for shit. I will find my hope but not now. And dark content with hopelessness, vent art done purely for the vent and not for the healing helps me immensely because I feel my resistance to healing seen without someone telling me that I can heal because I know I CAN, I just don't want to because people have all sorts of expectations about how my healing should be, but while people can object to my healing not really being healing, they can hardly disagree that the dark stuff I write isn't dark. At least in my experience.

People have differing types of sensitivity, and not all people who are lovers love themselves. Love doesn't have to be total, not all people experience it like that. Sensitivity does not have to make you like dark hopeless stories, but it does not mean you are sensitive only if you prefer hopeful stories OR when you reject completely dark stories. People can be "lovers" and sensitive in all three of cases. So I agree about being frustrated for people saying "you're not sensitive enough" because that's not true, your sensitivity simply differs from theirs.

Vent art can be self care just as much as hopeful art. And dark content does not have to be vent art, it can also just want to make people witness gross stuff because they enjoy gross stuff being depicted for the sake of it (to make an example: people with certain laraphilias that cannot be explored safely in real life).

I am merely playing devil's advocate, with the devil being something I love: my only chance at venting without feeling pressured into a reaction. So I will concede this exposition may seem personal, almost too personal, and angry, but I tend to be passionate about the things I love.

I hope I didn't anger people with my response to this. But then again, I should take up space more often...

too much to say in a post but i re-read (partly skimmed) my manuscript of my book from a year and a half ago and it's so fucking good and also feels like a hemisphere of my brain has been returned to me. like oh yeah. my creative self. the fullness of my being. i missed you

i need to fucking talk about it but it's intimidating

[amazinglyashy]

hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻

Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.

LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away

Xavier -

Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.

The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.

Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.

Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-

You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.

Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.

But until then, he's got you.

He's always got you.

Zayne -

He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.

Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.

He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.

Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…

A lot of care.

If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.

"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."

Sylus -

Deep breath, it's going to be alright.

Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.

But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.

He just didn't expect it to come so soon.

Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.

A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.

For as long as you may need.

Rafayel -

He hated cats.

Except for this one.

That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.

He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.

He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.

He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.

Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.

It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.

Almost.

And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.

[softevie]

raspberry delight

pairing: hongjoong x female reader

warnings: smut under the cut so MDNI; established relationship; sub joong, dom reader, sex toys, restraints, blindfold, gag, orgasm control/denial, cock slapping (just a little, as a treat), crying, brief oral (m receiving), nipple play/biting, is there such a thing as precome play? now there is; aftercare

a/n: ah what can I say. I’m a huge sub!joong enthusiast 🤠 this one is a bit rushed but honestly I just couldn't wait to post it. I might rewrite it later though!

word count: 1.7k

divider by: @cafekitsune

It’s getting increasingly harder to stop yourself from bringing him over the edge. The sight of him lying before you, so open and vulnerable, is nothing short of a temptation straight from hell. Or a gift from heaven.

His forearms are brought together over his head by wide leather restraints (firm, yet smooth and soft, sure not to leave any traces when he goes to work), which are in turn chained to the metal frame of your bed. A soft black blindfold clings to his face perfectly, preventing him from seeing any of your moves, the anticipation of your next touch making him squirm. The firm rubber bar between his teeth is not letting him close his mouth completely, drool escaping both corners of his lips, while he’s sobbing so beautifully for you. His abdomen is tensing rhythmically, covered in a shiny sheen of sweat.

His legs are spread open so invitingly, displaying his hard cock resting against his soft stomach. You wish you could just make him cum over and over again, with no time in between, but you pace yourself for both of your sakes. You know he enjoys this just as much as you do. You know he sometimes wishes he could just be your good little toy forever instead of bearing all of that responsibility on his shoulders.

“Aren't I being nice to you?”

You reverently run your palms over the soft skin on the insides of his thighs, and he’s so sensitive that even this light touch is causing him to sob and shiver. His whole body trembles, making his aching cock jump a little.

You’ve played with him for so long already, there’s an impressive pool of precum on his stomach, his bellybutton overflowing with it. You dip your fingertips in it and bring them to his puffy pink nipples, just as sensitive from your play as the rest of him. When you lightly squeeze them with your fingers, he starts whining and thrashing on the bed, almost knocking into you with his knees and even more precum dripping on his stomach. The chain rattles against the bed frame when he strains his arms.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you coo and let go of his rosy buds.

He sniffles wetly, and you can tell that the blindfold soon is going to be soaked in his tears. He tries to say something through the gag, but it’s barely coherent. His mouth moves when he tries to swallow the spit but can’t help the way it escapes his mouth, running down his face and onto the pillow under his head.

“What’s that, hun? You want to cum?”

He nods frantically and sobs again.

“Hm…” you pretend to think, smoothing your hands down his sides. “Just hold on a little more, baby.”

He sighs resignedly as you lean down and gently take one of his nipples in your mouth, the bitter taste of leftover precome exploding on your tongue. You make sure to be gentle when you suck on it, and he moans softly, thrusting his hips up, trying to rut against you, or anything, really; that’s how desperate he is. You move your lips lower to bite and suck at the supple flesh of his chest under the nipple, squeezing the other one with your hand.

After you’re sure there will be a noticeable mark on his chest, you push his hips down to the bed with your hands and lean away, sitting between his legs and admiring your work. There’s no feeling better than having him beneath you like this. While he’s writhing on the sheets, you smile to yourself thinking about how the tip of his overstimulated leaking cock reminds you of a bright plump pink berry, creating a beautiful contrast with his honey toned skin.

Something comes over you, and you do the thing that wasn’t on the menu tonight, but his surprised gasp is worth it. You lean down to press slow kisses along his length, making sure to keep the touch light as to not end this too soon. It’s warm and firm under your soft lips, his scent making your head spin and in a moment of weakness you want to abandon all of this, take him in your mouth and then have him inside. Instead, you take a deep breath and pull yourself together; but not before giving his cock a slow lick from the base to the very tip, which earns you a pretty whine from him.

You bring your hand up and gently tap the head of his cock with your fingertips a few times before lifting them slowly, watching a string of sticky precum stretch and eventually break off, causing him to thrust his hips up again in search of friction. The chain rattles again, like an alarm of his desperation. You take him in your hand and press the tip of your thumb into the wet slit, rubbing it insistently, enjoying all the different sounds you pull out of him. You crave more of his soft cries and whines. The blunt nail of your thumb digs into sensitive skin and he cries out, voice highest it’s been this whole session. You wonder for a second what the neighbors are going to think. Well, it’s not like you and Hongjoong ever tried very hard to keep your preferences secret anyway.

You shush him and rub soothing circles on his sides with your palms. 

“It’s alright baby. I’ll give you what you need now.”

You pick up the pink vibrator lying on the bed next to you, turn it on the lowest setting and lightly press it against his aching cock. He sighs and very predictably thrusts up to rub against it but it’s just not getting him there. The soft vibrations are just enough to keep him in this perpetual state of stimulation, but with no release in sight. His frustrated whimpers are music to your ears.

“What’s wrong again? Is this not enough for my baby?” He shakes his head side to side, and you know that if he wasn’t wearing a gag, he would be pouting his hardest right now. “You can’t come like this? Are you sure?” He nods, whining and trying to swallow again, the sound of it mixing well with his wet sobs.

“Alright, well…” you sigh, contemplating while your other hand goes to massage his balls rather roughly, making him whimper. “I suppose, you’ve been a good boy tonight…”

He fights against the gag between his teeth to get the words out.

“Yeth.”

“You deserve your reward.”

“Pleath.” He breathes out, the promise of release making him all giddy.

“Do you want my hand or the toy?”

He’s silent this time and his cheeks grow even pinker than they were before.

“Both?” You gasp in mock surprise, and he nods weakly, ears red. “Greedy boy.” You lightly slap his cock and his whole body jolts with a cry. You watch it bob against his stomach, messy with unfathomable amount of precome and try to stop your mouth from salivating so much.

Even though you just reprimanded him, you bring both the toy and your hand to him. You situate yourself securely between his legs, turn the toy on the middle setting and press it to his tip. He moans loudly as his body goes tense. You wrap the other hand around him an start moving it applying the pressure you know he likes best. He’s full on crying now and chanting “please, please, please” through the gag, hoping you will actually let him come this time. You keep the pace of your hand and pressure of the vibrator steady until his breath catches in his throat.

When the orgasm finally arrives, it hits him like a freight train; he arches his back off the bed and clamps his legs together, trapping you between his thighs. Thick viscous ropes of milky cum shoot across his abdomen and chest, almost reaching his chin. You remove the toy, still softly moving your hand through his orgasm.

“That’s it, good boy, look at you.”

He comes for so long with his whole body taut like a bowsrting, you even get a little worried.

When he’s completely spent and you’re sure his oversensistive cock has nothing left to give, you move your hand away. He collapses back to the mattress, catching his breath.

Still sitting between his legs, you turn your head to the side to kiss his knee and run your hand down his thigh.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’m going to clean you up, okay?” you murmur into his skin.

He manages to hum in agreement and you get up to grab the pack of wet wipes from the nightstand. You clean him up as gently as you can before discarding the wipes into the little trash bin next to the bed. After that, it’s time to remove the restraints.

You sit on the bed next to him and you take the gag off first, unclasping the little belt on the back of his head, and then put it on the nightstand. He sighs in relief, finally swallows properly and licks his lips. You caress his cheeks and the corners of his mouth, which are slightly sore.

“That’s it, baby, you’re okay,” you coo placing loving pecks on each corner of his mouth.

Next are the restraints on his arms, which you fist unchain from the bed frame and then remove from his forearms to place next to the gag. You rub his wrists even though they’re not really sore, and run your palms over his arms. When you slowly remove the blindfold as well, your heart clenches with affection when his puffy red eyes meet yours.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” you reply, petting his hair with your hand. “You’re with me?” You caress his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiles up at you. He pulls you down by your t-shirt into a gentle kiss, his warm dry lips moving against yours.

“You did so well, honey,” you move away shortly to mumble into his lips before going back to kissing him.

“You too,” he pecks your lips. “Thank you for doing this, you’re so good at it.”

You lie next to him more comfortably and go back to slowly making out.

“No, thank you. For being such a good boy for me.”

[alooseknot]

Satoru and Suguru, but through Megumi’s eyes?

I’ve thought about this a lot lately, let me explain:

“I.

Megumi is 7, and he wakes up from the same nightmare for the third night in a row. He plods along the hallway, his arms wrapped firmly around his middle, and reaches up to turn the knob on Satoru and Suguru’s door.

The darkness of the room seems to seep out into the hall as he takes a few timid steps into the room. He’s noticed immediately, of course, by the two men in the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks immediately, his voice slurred with sleep. Megumi can see him looking at him as his eyes adjust to the low light. Of course, Satoru’s eyes don’t need to adjust, so he knew it was him. He also sees Suguru, who had initially startled awake as well, lie back down, almost immediately asleep.

“Can I sleep here?” Megumi asks, whispering.

Satoru pats the bed next to him, scooting over to let Megumi settle in the middle. Megumi crawls into the bed without another word.

Satoru curls on his side, facing him, and stretches an arm out above Megumi’s head. He ruffles a hand through Megumi’s hair, then buries his hand into Suguru’s hair.

Megumi’s eyelids finally grow heavy again in the warm, safe darkness surrounding him, and he falls asleep to the sound of their even breathing.

II.

Megumi is 10, and he hears the front door open and the door to the hallway bathroom slam. He’s sitting in front of the living room TV playing video games, and he turns around to see Satoru hanging up his keys. He smiles softly at Megumi. Suguru must have been the door-slammer, then.

Megumi hears retching from behind the bathroom door. He stands up to go check, to help. Satoru shakes his head no—not unkindly, but definitively. “I know you’re worried, but he’s okay. Just a hard mission. I’m going to go help, okay? Just giving him a second. Everyone needs a second sometimes, yeah?” Satoru fills the electric tea kettle with water and flicks it on.

“If you really want to help, you can fill this mug up with water when the kettle beeps. Not all the way to the top, just most of the way,” Satoru says, taking a mug down from the cabinet and slicing up a chunk of ginger, throwing the slices into the mug.

Then, he walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Megumi stands by the kettle, taking his post seriously, waiting patiently for it to beep.

III.

Megumi is 15, and he isn’t supposed to be home yet.

He rounds the corner next to his bedroom door when he hears them.

“He loves him, Sugu. And I don’t—I don’t know—I mean, can I save him?” Satoru gasps, clearly crying.

“I know. Breathe. This isn’t your fault, you’re doing what you can. You always do,” Suguru murmurs in response, and Megumi hears the bed creak as he shifts his position.

“Megumi will never forgive me if I have to kill Yuji. Never, Suguru,” Satoru’s sobs are muffled now, likely against Suguru’s chest.

“Satoru, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Hell, if we get to it. You don’t know that it’ll ever be relevant,” Suguru’s voice is soothing, softer than Megumi is used to hearing it.

Satoru doesn’t respond, and the next thing Megumi hears is Suguru’s gentle plea : “You have to breathe, Toru, come on, count with me.”

He walks away from the door.

IV.

Megumi is 16, and he isn’t sure what woke him. His phone screen tells him it’s 1:27 a.m. Maybe Satoru finally made it home from his mission.

He ambles out of his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, just to make sure.

He hears hushed voices before he rounds the corner to the living room. Unsure why anyone would be up that isn’t Satoru, who likely wouldn’t be talking to himself, Megumi is suddenly on alert. He slides his back against the wall, peering around the corner to see who’s there.

It’s Suguru.

He exhales.

After seeing Suguru’s face, however, he feels like his sigh of relief may have been premature.

“Do you want to take a shower, maybe?” Suguru murmurs, standing in front of Satoru where he sits on the couch, pulling off his boots. Satoru places the shoes next to the couch and lets his forehead fall against Suguru’s abdomen. Suguru is quick to wrap a hand around his head, threading his fingers through the hair that isn’t matted down under his blindfold.

“I just want to sleep,” Satoru sighs, and Megumi immediately notices how weary he sounds. His clothing is, as usual, clean and untouched, a byproduct of Infinity, but wherever he’d been had clearly taken a toll on him. Suguru massages Satoru’s head at the temples.

“Come on, I’ll turn off the lights and start the water,” Suguru whispers.

Satoru nods, inhaling shakily.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Suguru breathes, sitting down on his heels to rest his forehead against Satoru’s.

Megumi, suddenly feeling the weight of his intrusion, creeps back to his room as quietly as possible.

V.

Megumi is 17, and he hears Satoru and Suguru arguing in the kitchen. He pulls out a headphone to listen, pausing the music he’d been listening to while doing homework on the living room floor.

“I just don’t feel like it, Satoru. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

“No, because you never ‘feel like it’ anymore! You’d think I was asking you for a miracle, not to literally just go out for the evening.”

“Well, you never ‘feel like’ doing anything I want to do either. When’s the last time you sat and read a book with me, huh?”

“That’s different, Suguru, I’ve never done that. You know what I’m saying, and you’re purposefully ignoring it.”

Suguru doesn’t reply.

“Things are bad again, aren’t they?”

Suguru still doesn’t reply.

“Please talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep. You go out. Invite Shoko; she’ll appreciate it.”

“I want to help you, you asshole. Stop pushing me away.”

“I don’t want your help, Satoru.”

Satoru laughs harshly at this.

“Yeah, well, you sure as fuck need it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you! Are you kidding me? You’re just content to rot, going to work and then coming home and sleeping your life away? Or some other fucking mindless activity? It’s not normal, Suguru. It’s not healthy. And I’m not just going to sit by and watch you do it.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Suguru raises his voice, which catches Megumi off guard. He never yells.

“Nothing about this is normal, Satoru. My life, our lives, me. I’m not normal. Do you think I like this? Feeling fucking hopeless, not having the energy to do anything, fucking sitting on the floor in the shower because it’s too much to stand—“

“—Suguru, listen—“

“—Don’t interrupt me.”

They are silent for a few long moments.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru says, raggedly.

“No, I’m sorry, I said I wanted to help and I’m definitely not helping,” Satoru sighs.

“I—Satoru, I—“ Suguru tries, then stops.

“Things are bad again,” Suguru settles on, his voice breaking.

Megumi doesn’t hear Satoru reply, just the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

Satoru only speaks when Suguru starts crying.

Whatever Satoru says to him is too soft for Megumi to hear.

[nightlyrequiem]

headcanons about jealous, slightly controlling valeria? your writing eats everytime

I love jealous and slightly controlling Valeria...

also thank you :3

Jealous Valeria Headcanons

It doesn't take much for Valeria to feel jealous. She's territorial over everything. Including you. She tries not to make it your problem. She's self-aware enough to recognize that she probably shouldn't be.

But she is. If you're the type of person to wear skimpy or more revealing clothes, she hates it. I mean, she loved it before you started dating because she loves looking at you, but she hates it because other people will look. One of her biggest fears is someone taking that as an invitation to approach you, and you playing into it. Valeria loves you and trusts you to an extent, but she just can't help but worry about you flirting with other people behind her back.

You two have fought over that a few times. when Valeria was feeling particularly testy about an outfit. You're in a relationship, why do you still want to dress like a slut? Valeria knows you're attractive, who else are you trying to impress? By the end you're upset and possibly crying. She feels bad but she doesn't retract her statements. She doesn't stop you from throwing out the outfit she had an issue with.

Valeria also has an issue with your friends. Men? No. Women? Absolutely not. Nonbinary? No. Mostly if they're attractive. If they're people she deems ugly then she's less inclined to be an issue about it. Regardless, she doesn't like it when you hang out with them. If you make plans, she'll try to make you change them. Guilt trip you into staying home. What, do you like them better than her? You got the hots for one of them? Why are you fighting so hard to go be with them?

Valeria has to have the passwords to your phone and social media. She gave you hers so it's only fair. (Except it kind of isn't because she doesn't use social media. she only has the apps you have so she can monitor you.) If you like something or post something she doesn't like she gets all moody. And God forbid you get a random DM. Your account has to be on private. Sometimes, when you're asleep she'll log into your account and go through your followers and who you're following. Removing whoever she sees fit.

You aren't the only one who has to deal with it though. You've lost a few friendships because Valeria went to them without you knowing and threatened them into leaving you. She gets incredibly agitated when you bring it up.

Breaking up doesn't get rid of her either. Break ups are really only temporary breaks in her eyes. If you try to date it won't go over well. She'll do whatever she can to sabotage you. Harming the other girl or threatening to, spreading lies about you, whatever she can to keep you single. If you can't be happy with her you aren't allowed to be happy with anyone else.

And if you somehow manage to get another girlfriend? Oh, Valeria is livid. Valeria will try to charm you back into her life. She doesn't care if you're in a relationship, she had you first. (She is definitely not a girl's girl...) She'll try her hand at emotional manipulation if that doesn't work. "I'm so miserable without you mi Vida..." "I can't sleep knowing you aren't mine anymore..." and the worst "If you don't talk to me I'll hurt myself." She won't. But she's trying to take advantage of that softness in you.

I think some of this is more than slightly controlling but oh well.

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

------------------------

this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

[smallestapplin]

helloooo!! can i request idw rung x human fem reader?? just fluff, maybe rung is exhausted from all the sessions and clients, and the reader is just there for him. Kinda like instead of rung giving out therapy, he's receiving therapy lolll

And this makes rung kinda emotional because like i said, he's always the one giving out therapy, and no one ever really cared about him that way

idk if u write for idw though i hope u do😭 have a nice day!

-🍓 anon

Thank you for requesting this, I wanna smother him in love so badly.

No warnings!

-

-

-

Rung loves to help, the care he feels deeply for all on the ship is immeasurable, like a sire to their sparklings. He just wants to give them the tools to help themselves, to help them out of their depressions, to help manage their moods swings and out bursts.

To show them they aren't alone, and it's okay.

But some days take everything out of him, like learning something new in his clients past that just makes his spark break for them. Rung forgets himself, forgets that he too needs someone to lean on sometimes.

He didn't expect that support to come in the form of the human of the ship.

You knew he'd be back late and yet you still found your way to his habsuite, and stayed up waiting for him. You smile up at him, gentle and kind.

"Welcome back, you look tired, hon. C'mon, you need to lay down and relax."

He's not sure what made him break, your soft voice or your warm expression, but he could feel the fluid leaking down his face plate, fogging his goggles. He moved to you without a second thought, carefully picking you up and holding you close to his face plate as he lays down on his berth.

"I just want to help them."

His quaking voice breaks your heart.

"I know, Rung, I know. You have been doing so well. But you forget to take care of yourself, you can't help everyone if you're too tired." You try to wipe his tears, but there is just too much.

You nuzzle up close to him, offering some comfort to the large bot.

"You need someone to vent to, you need to take those stupidly long hot showers, read something new, you need time for yourself to recover."

When was the last time someone offered such support to him? Been there to let him cry and get it all out?

"You're a kind bot with so much love to give, but recovery isn't all work, you need to stop and just breathe in the moment, feel what you feel, and show it."

He lets out a watery chuckle.

"I know you're right, but I'm not pleased about it."

You playfully huff, "Well, now you just sound like Prowl being proven wrong."

Rung moves to lay on his side, curling around you in the process, keeping you close to him. He takes his fogged goggles off, setting them to the side, letting you see his pretty blue optics, but he looks so tired.

You place a hand on his cheek, rubbing soothing circles across his metal.

"You're a sweet bot, Rung, don't let these trying times ruin your compassion."

You nearly panic at how much he begins to sob, as if you broke the dam that had been cracking for so long, his cries were loud in your ears, but you never wavered in your comfort. You lay against him, kissing the digit of the servo that holds you.

he needs this, he's needed this for so long.

"It's okay, I'll stay by your side, always."

There isn't anything he wouldn't do for the crew, and there isn't a thing you wouldn't do for him. You let him cry as much as he needed until he grew exhausted, growing limp in the oncoming rest cycle.

He spoke up, his voice near a whisper.

"You'll stay here with me...right?"

You worm your way out of his servo and lay down next to his helm, his optics lazily following your every move.

"I'll be here when you wake up, you won't get rid of me that easily."

His smile, though tired, is just as sweet as always.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you."

You watch as his optics slide close, powering down to recharge. You will stay right here with him, right beside him no matter what, he's too kind to be left alone as is.

His berth isn't very comfortable for you, but you will ask for your bed to be moved here if he'd be okay with that.

Ah, you will worry about that in the morning, for now you just want to bask in his presence and enjoy this.

[notmorbid]

these violent delights.

dialogue prompts from these violent delights by micah nemerever.

i never told you my name.

who puts those awful ideas in your head?

you're forever assuming the worst.

what's that face? you look like you're going to cry.

you're one of those people who worry all the time, aren't you?

i don't worry, i ruminate. they're distinct actions.

nothing made you. you just are.

beautiful things are supposed to hurt.

people tell you you're shy all the time, don't they?

i don't know how i ever got on without you.

a little trouble is a good thing for a young person.

i wasn't born yesterday. i know what kids get up to.

it's good to have guns to stick to.

you could do anything to me and i'd let you.

i'm not ready to be seen. not yet.

i don't need you to treat me respectfully. i'm not made of glass.

tell me you love me, at least. please. i need to know somebody does.

do i look normal? i can't tell if i look normal.

you can get away with anything, as long as you act like an authority on the truth.

don't tell me what i want.

you know you're just about the worst liar i've ever met.

i don't think you've ever felt anything that didn't hurt you.

you're so square, you're a cube.

i just want you to believe me when i tell you you're worth something.

there are limits to what you can expect people to understand, without living it.

you can't fight everybody all the time. you still have to live with them.

i forget how blue the sky can be outside the city.

i'm going to push you off a cliff, you fucking boy scout.

thank you for trusting me with this.

be a kid while you still can.

please believe in the things i try to tell you, instead of the things you think you deserve to be told.

if the sun touched you for even a moment, you'd go up in flames. like a vampire.

your voice changes when you're angry.

what a lonely, dreary thing it is to know the truth.

you never look away, even when your eyes are closed, but i'm never certain you can see what's really there.

tell me you need me. in those words.

can i tell you something? that i'm all but certain you won't believe?

i never lie to you. but sometimes, i wish i could.

you never let me pretend the truth is alright when it isn't.

you have a profound, elusive sadness about you.

you didn't. please tell me you didn't.

you and your awful little games.

why would i bother to grow my own conscience when you're always around to pester me?

you're going to help me escape.

this house is a shadowbox, never meant for human things.

you have no right to stop me, and you're not going to try.

you're sweet, when you want to be.

do you want me to kill ____? i mean it.

it might do you good to be an orphan.

you're just so sincerely creepy.

wealthy people pay handsomely for the privilege of ignoring cries for help.

i've never seen you like that before. not once.

i've decided to learn to be impulsive.

the worst damage humans do isn't rooted in malice, but in thoughtlessness.

there's such a thing as right and wrong. anyone can figure out the difference if they're willing to think for themselves.

there's no part of you i can't see.

i don't want to hurt you. please don't let me.

you're ridiculous, sometimes. but that's alright.

i don't want you right now. go home.

i'm not like you. i don't even have a shape of my own to hold anything else in place.

i'll never matter the way you do, and you know it.

say what you need to say.

if you say the word 'deserve' one more time, i'm driving us off a bridge.

i've been meaning to talk to you about ____.

i'm worried about what you're getting into.

you don't see me. you can't. you never could.

it's your life. you're entitled to make your own mistakes.

i want you to know you deserve better. you don't have to put up with ____.

you scare the hell out of me. you really do.

you look the same way you always have.

i was worried i'd lost you.

i'll take care of you. i don't need you to be brave.

all i want to do is make you happy, and you're the unhappiest person i've ever met.

i would rather be cruel than weak.

i want you to let me be nice to you today. i don't care if you think you deserve it.

this place looks like somewhere in a jigsaw puzzle.

it's always been real for me. every second.

please don't say anything to my mother.

we can't fix it if you don't tell me what happened.

i'll call you when i can stand the sight of you. don't hold your breath.

hiding the truth is still lying.

i thought you'd finally trust me if you knew i'd kill for you.

i'm just as much of a monster as you are.

i was missing part of myself my whole life, until i met you.

righteous fury leaves no space for fear.

you can always talk to me. about anything, okay? i love you no matter what.

you played [game] in school, didn't you?

no one tolerates boredom worse than the idle rich.

someone needs to be looking after you.

you know you can't actually stop me, right?

i want to be able to look at you.

when you need to, you will understand.

i'm only ever early when i'm afraid.

people talk themselves into the strangest things when they want to look impressive.

in the end, there's no difference between trusting someone and underestimating them.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 10

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied abuse, Implied violence. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

As you calm down, Jake waits until you tell him to before he lets you go. He can't imagine how much you might need this so he'll hold you for as long as you want.

You sniffle and shake your head as you gently push away from him. "I'm sorry about that," you splutter.

"No need to apologize," he assures. "It's been a really crazy couple of days. Probably a lot longer than that for you."

"I should get to work on the dishes." You try to move past him but he holds out his arm.

"I said I'd do the dishes," he reminds you. "Not only did you cook breakfast, you cooked a lot more food than you should have. The least I can do is help out with the clean up."

"You had to actually talk to them," you quietly argue. "I just sat and refilled drinks."

"You also really helped me out, reassured me when I was feeling lost," he gently countered. "Please let me do this for you?"

It takes you a minute of internal waffling before you tell him, "okay. And thank you."

As you start tearing up again Jake is quick to ask, "are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need another hug? Are you hurt?"

"I'm just...I'm just not...not used to such kindness," you confess as you wipe the tears away.

"Doing the dishes for you is more than you're used to?" You nod and Jake feels a renewed wave of anger at your family. "Would...would it help if you supervised my cleaning? Make sure I'm not cleaning your cast iron by putting it in the dishwasher?" Your eyes go wide and you gasp, but he's quick to smile and reassure you that he would never do that. "It's one of the few cleaning things I will forever know, if only because it came up in a trivia night one time."

The giggle escapes before you even knew it was forming. You slap your hand over your mouth, embarrassed but Jake's eyes are lit up. Everything in his body language tells you he's not angry or offended at your outburst, but happy about it.

"If you want me to ignore that, I will," he comments. "But I would be happy to acknowledge it!" He looks at you like an excited puppy eager for praise and you can't help but continue giggling from behind your hand. He starts shaking with excitement but he's not saying or doing anything because you haven't said if you want it acknowledged. Unfortunately that's just making your fit more uncontrollable.

You remove your hand and gasp between fits, "it's okay. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm laughing this much. I'm sorry."

Jake lightly bounces as he assures you, "it's okay! There's nothing to apologize for! Sometimes a thing just tickles your fancy. It could also be a response to all the stress you've been through. When was the last time you had a really good cry? Or a really good laugh?"

"It has been a long time," you sigh, keeping your head down as you finally get your laughing under control.

"So, would you be willing to supervise me in the kitchen?"

"That sounds nice," you nod.

"And you promise to correct me if I do something wrong? Or before I do something wrong?" You hesitate at that. "I promise I don't want to upset you. I just...we're going to be going to a lot of parties soon. I'll have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going to need your help." You look up at him, eyes a mix of emotions. "I...I get the impression you're not...you don't correct others." You lower your face in shame. "Hey, it's not...I get why. I really do! It's not a judgment, I promise!" Jake's tone becomes a little more frantic, but no less pleading, soft. "And I'm gonna need your help to not make an ass of myself at these parties. That includes correcting me or stopping me before I do something stupid. The kitchen supervision could be a good way to practice that for us?"

"That...that makes sense," you agree. "I promise to try?"

Jake smiles, "thank you so much, Sharky!"

"Sharky?"

"Sorry, I'm used to friends with nicknames," he quickly explains. "And, I figured you...you like sharks so much you literally studied them...I swear it sounded better in my head." His face looks chagrined as he rubs his hand on the back of his head.

"I...I've never really had a nickname before," you tell him. "I kinda did when I was studying, but it was definitely derogatory." Jake's eyes turn sad. "Derogatory regarding my background. No matter how much work I did, I was still called 'Princess' because of my family." You shake your head to dispel the memory. "But 'Sharky' sounds a lot nicer." You give him a soft smile that has Jake's heart fluttering.

As the dishes get loaded into the dishwasher and the others await the required handwashing, you decide to ask Jake about something that's been bothering you.

"Your father," you hesitate, knowing it's a sensitive topic. "He mentioned something about your niece?"

Jake sighs, the smile on his face dropping. "You remember my sister was engaged to Travis?"

"Of course."

"I got her out of it by, essentially, hiding her far away from here. She met someone, fell in love, and they had a daughter." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. "She's only 8 years old," he continues. "But she's super stubborn, like her mother. Smart, like her father. And she's damn good at soccer, minus some bad calls from a ref."

You smile a little at that. It's very clear he cares a lot for her.

"But my parents found out about her," he continues. "They hinted that they know where she and Sarah live and they flat out told me that, unless I agreed to marry you, to be the obedient son they always wanted, they were going to marry her off to your brother."

You gasp at that. You knew your parents were determined to solidify power and position by combining the families but you didn't think they would go so far! And to your brother, who would be twice her age upon marrying her! Your blood freezes as you think of how badly he'd hurt her.

"Hey, Sharky? You okay?"

Jake's voice breaks through the bad memories, "sorry. I just...I'm happy to help you keep her safe."

"Thank you for that."

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @irishhappiness

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[halfwayhearted]

hi, i love your work <3 !!! can you write a fermin lopez boyfriend headcanons?

Boyfriend Fermín López Headcanons! ^_^

“oh, you kissed me just to kiss me.” / “not to make me cry.”

Boyfriend Fermín López who… invites you to all of his games, the home ones, of course. Sometimes, you’ll surprise him at a couple of his away games, just to show your utmost support and admiration for the man you’re completely in love with.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… will kiss you like there’s no tomorrow. The man has always been the passionate type, very vocal about his feelings.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… always lends you one of his AirPods. The man can’t focus without tunes playing in his ear, so why not get you in on it, too?

Boyfriend Fermín López who… gets teased by his teammates almost all the time. Whenever you’re around, he’s always calling for your help and or assistance in what he likes to call ‘payback’.

“Fermín, you can’t be serious. It was just a pinch!”

“I’m getting him back. Will you help me?”

Boyfriend Fermín López who… has to have a hand on you at all times. Not because he feels like it—well, actually, most of the time it is because he feels like it. Other times, it’s just so he can reassure himself that you were really here. With him.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… becomes the biggest baby when he’s upset. You weren’t talking about arguments, you were talking about petty stuff. He knows just what to do during the most heated moments, even going so far as to sass. Irritating.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… always makes sure that you’re comfortable. You’re cold? Suddenly, the hoodie he was just wearing two seconds prior is pulled over your head. Hot? He’s finding the nearest place to cool down and get something cold to either eat or drink, like ice cream or water.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… craves physical touch. Having already been slightly mentioned before, it always—and you mean always—increases when he’s feeling particularly distant from you.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… is an admirer through and through. If you’re on dates and the time is right, he’s taking out his phone and taking pictures not only for you, but for himself as well.

Boyfriend Fermín López who… would probably, most likely, one-hundred percent be the perfect man.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ (THANK YOU SO MUCH. I love you! 🫵)

[sassypantsjaxon]

Thinking about how Luffy didn't want to be alone and so he went and made himself into a younger brother. How he went and formed these bonds with these two boys who really had no obligation to him, but they all loved each other so much anyway. How losing Sabo as a child shaped him and how he just refused to lose anyone else because of it. How he and Ace had no choice but to love each other more in Sabo's absence. How Luffy probably doesn't even know how many people Ace told about his kid brother, how many people knew he was coming because Ace told them first. How hard Luffy and Ace tried to hold onto each other. How much Luffy's love meant to a boy who felt unwanted. How when Sabo finally comes back to him he's afraid that his little brother will be angry with him but all Luffy can do is cry because it means he still has a brother.

Thinking about how being a brother is just something Franky is. Something he'll always be. Just like a shipwright. Just like Tom's disciple. How he can try to give those things up, but they'll always come back to him. How he became the big brother to the backstreets of Water 7 himself. How he wouldn't have fully understood how Iceberg felt believing he was dead for four years until CP9 told him they had killed his brother. How relieved he was to learn he was still alive. How he must have worried about Iceberg's reaction when he destroyed the blueprints but saved the woman they had been warned about. How freeing it must have been to finally hear his brother say he's forgiven.

Thinking about how Sanji is the only one who was born as a brother but he's the one it means the least to. How for him there was no safety in being a younger brother. How fighting with his brothers didn't come with the security of knowing his father would still love him anyway. How he would avoid thinking about Reiju because he knew she loved him but also that she only loved him as much as was safe. How he would see Luffy and Ace or Franky and Iceberg, and even knowing that his family is the abnormal one, he still can't help but wonder if it's really as simple as they make it seem. How even with his brothers never giving him anything but pain, he still can't do anything but save them.

Thinking about how after they were all back together in Sabaody, Iceberg is probably the first person Franky wants to know he's still alive versus Sanji's brothers being the last people he wants knowing anything about him versus Luffy not having a brother to tell anymore and I just-

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

I can’t even lie over time this pathetic little elf has grown on me and now I really like her as a character. she’s SUCH a loser. and someone said that she should’ve been recruitable instead of Halsin after uncovering the Shadow Druid plot and she could’ve had a redemption arc and now I can’t stop thinking about that alternate reality

[watery-melon-baller]

im never quite good at dealing with people venting to me because my automatic response is to offer them a solution, and i get frustrated if they continue to vent without taking the solution, especially if it's a simple solution. i am aware that everyone has issues and that things are difficult but sometimes i see my friends and i just get so. envious and annoyed because they can just sit there and whine without even doing anything. which is a cruel thing to think because they do have legitimate issues but every time they're talking im just always thinking in the back of my head just do the fucking thing. Just do it. It doesn't Matter if X and Y are affecting you just fucking do it you have to do it you can't just sit on your ass and not do it. and i don't want to say that to my friends because it is mean and not nice and they have real legitimate issues and i completely understand where they're coming from and why they're struggling but my internal dialogue is a constant manta of "didnt ask didn't care stop being a little bitch and get over yourself and do it" because that's what i have to tell myself to get anything done

[hooked-on-elvis]

I'm crying so hard at this video but most of all at the comments. Needed to share it.