#as if i didn’t know that these disgusting intrusive thoughts and nightmares and behaviors were triggered by what happened

[louiswilliamtomlinsons]

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[fanby-fckry]

Ya know, people on this site go on about the difference between intrusive thoughts and impulsive thoughts – rightfully so; they’re two distinct phenomenons, and armchair psych trends are mucking things up – but I have a bone to pick about how people seem to go about it.

Specifically that they tend to present intrusive thoughts as this awful horrible nightmare scenario, and then impulsive thoughts as… completely benign. And I guess, for someone with neurotypical levels of impulse control, they can be. But what about people who don’t?

What about people with conditions that cause poor impulse control? People who have to actively work to think before following an impulse, and who can’t always manage it.

I have bipolar disorder and BPD: two disorders that come packaged with poor impulse control and an increased likelihood of engaging in risky behavior like drug use and unsafe sex. That’s pretty fucking serious.

These aren’t intrusive thoughts, at least not for me. They’re my thoughts, my urges. They don’t disgust or repulse me on the moment. In fact, that’s part of the problem. There’s no natural pause between impulse and action, immediately apparent reason not to act on it. I’ve since learned to implement pauses, and to use skills like pros and cons lists, opposite action, etc. But I have to work at it.

Even more ‘benign’ impulses can cause problems. I’m currently having a manic episode, so my impulse control is dead. And I just acted on the commonly referenced ‘cut my own hair’ impulse.

It looks like a hackjob, because it was. I don’t have the money to go to the salon to fix it. I have to live with this decision, and the consequences for my self image and social life.

More serious potential consequences below the cut, along with another personal story.

Content Warning: abuse, sexual themes in reference to consensual (but unsafe) sex

And if I had a job or an abusive partner/parent/etc. that demanded control over my hair, I’d be in even deeper shit. I know someone who was in the latter situation, also has poor impulse control, acted on the haircut impulse, and very much suffered for it.

Looping back around to my experiences, I used to engage in very poorly thought-out sexual encounters, because… ???

I’m ace. I don’t even like sex 90% of the time, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I’d act on fleeting libido, realize I wasn’t into it part-way through, and then make a string of very unwise choices in an attempt to make it more enjoyable, which I will not get into here. I’d also use sex as a form of self destruction, knowing it was a bad idea and doing it anyway, because ‘fuck it’ (pun not fully intended, but sometimes ya gotta laugh at yourself).

I got multiple UTIs from having sex while dehydrated and sweating buckets. I had pregnancy scares because I screwed up my birth control and had sex anyway. The only reason I didn’t get an STI (unless you count the UTIs, which I guess were technically sexually transmitted) is because I was monogamous at the time and neither of us had anything to pass on.

So uh, yeah. It’s not all ‘I’m so quirky’ fun and games. Intrusive thoughts can be debilitating, and I’m not trying to diminish that. But so can impulsive thoughts, under the right (read: wrong) circumstances. And I wish people didn’t throw me and my poor-impulse-control brethren under the bus.

[namig42]

The Slayer (Ch. 1)

Hello! I started writing some scenes about my Durge character Vero, and have been excited to share them because I really love her character and the whole concept of a Durge who fears themselves. Please read and enjoy! I've got a couple chapters done, so I'll be dropping those as I clean them up!

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Vero, a lovely high elf bard with no memories prior to being abducted by mind flayers, suffers from a slew of intrusive, violent thoughts that come always at the worst of times. She now has to handle the new power that comes with the Slayer's form along with her dark urges.

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The night that Vero had been “gifted” with the form of the Slayer, she had been absolutely terrified. When her skin transformed from her elvish complexion into the rotten flesh of the massive beast, she had felt she was going to lose her mind. It was a miracle she didn’t swipe at Sceleritas Fel right then, though even if she had, he would’ve just praised her demonic behavior like the fool he was. It was a waking nightmare, one she refused to relive.

The worst part about the form is that she never wanted it. It was her reward for killing Isobel, though Isobel perished only by accident, not by Vero’s hand. An unfortunate blast of necrotic energy had struck her down in Myrkul’s lair. Vero had done nothing to earn the form, though that damned butler was likely looking for any excuse to return the curse to his master. What Vero wouldn’t give to snap that scrawny little neck, to hear all the little bones pop in her grasp… to watch the blood spill from the gremlin’s mouth as he smiled and thanked her…

No… stop that, you fool. Vero shook her head as she sat in the Elfsong for the evening, watching her companions rest around their large room that they’d taken for themselves. Her gaze fixed on Astarion as he sat on his bed, reading whatever book he had found to pass the time.

She reflected on how she hadn’t had the heart to tell Astarion, her truest confidante, about what she could become now. Vero feared every night how she may lose control and try to hurt him again, and somehow every night he reassured her that he would keep them both safe from those horrid urges of hers. “As I’ve said, I’ve got you my love. You can rest easy, I promise you.” It was that sense of trust and care that made Vero all the more hesitant to share about the Slayer’s form. Before the beast, she believed that Astarion would be quick enough to avoid any bloodthirsty lunges and be able to secure her in ropes or whatever means of restraint, just as he had that first night that the urges tried to attack him of all people. But with the Slayer? What could he do to stop that demon should it possess her and take control?

Perhaps warning him would give him a stronger chance at fleeing, though Vero couldn’t stomach the idea of him being disgusted by this new part of her. She couldn’t help but imagine that even if he had known and accepted her, if he attempted to run gods forbid something should happen, he may still be caught by the monster and ripped apart. Astarion gave her no reason to truly think that he would be repulsed by her new form, but how often does one’s lover gain the ability to transform into something even more horrid than a bhaalspawn? No, it was better this way. If she could restrain it long enough, perhaps he would never need to know. She would face Orin, face the Absolute, and after that, live a life of peace that wouldn’t require any form of killing. Yes… it was that simple, of course. What could go wrong?

Astarion looked at Vero’s pensive brow. She sat on the bed opposite his and her eyes were a million realms away. ”I hope there’s nothing troubling you, my dear,” he said to get her attention. Vero’s gaze snapped to his as her eyes returned to this reality. “No, I’m all right. There’s so many things we’re about to face, one can’t help but wonder what’s to come.” It was true. They had only arrived in the Lower City two days ago. Between fighting the cult of Bhaal, facing Cazador, retrieving the Orphic Hammer from the House of Hope, and so many other trials, there was good reason for the party to get lost in the thought of what the future held for them.

“I don’t blame you,” Astarion responded. “After all, we both have a terribly bloody family reunion waiting for us.”

“Do you think you’re ready to face yours?” Vero asked.

“Hah… I’m not sure. I do know that if I don’t, I’ll never escape Cazador , and that is worse to think about. He must know we’re coming by now. Instead of waiting for him to come after me, we’re better off taking the fight to him.”

“We will kill him, I promise you.” At these words, Vero had moved off her bed to kneel in front of Astarion and placed her hand on his leg. He placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a soft squeeze. “I know, my love. Thank you.” He put a finger under her chin to raise Vero’s lips to his in a soft, tender kiss.

Yes, this is what Vero was fighting for. No matter what may come, no matter how much she feared these urges, she would use everything in her power to keep this party safe. She would protect this family they had made, and especially the one that, since the beginning of this mess, never looked at her with an ounce of terror or disgust, but only fascination, admiration, and eventually love.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Caught in Your Riptide, Can’t Let You Know

Joe Liebgott x Reader One Shot

MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS @sunsetmando​! 

Summary: Joe needs to remember that there are still some things worth fighting for

Warnings: ANGST AND SMUT AND BLASPHEME!, feels, church sex, fwb relationship, sex with feels, maybe fluff?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You didn’t even seem surprised as you watched him slip into the cold stone sacristy behind him, your eyes dancing in the low light that trickled in through the cracks in the walls.

Joe didn’t believe in angels or demons, but right now he was willing to swear on whatever religious text he could get his hands on that you were both.

You’d been sitting just behind his left shoulder silently, head resting on your folded arm as they lay crossed on the back of his pew. The warmth on your hand around the back of his neck was sweet, the steady half-moon crescents your thumb made as it moved up and down the only thing keeping him from crawling out of his skin- a task that was becoming more and more difficult with each passing moment.

He knew that most mothers would tell their children that they couldn’t run away from their problems, he knew that for most it was just a turn of phrase.

But not for Joe

 Since he was a child, he’d always chosen to run from conflict, too young to know what to do with all of the frenetic energy in his little body. That was before he’d learned how to hit and fight and shove the adrenaline from his veins, before his mother started begging him to just walk away from discord and hostile situations he always managed to get himself into.

When things became too much, Joe knew himself enough to know that he needed some sort of release- some physical outlet for all of the feelings that made his skin itch and feel too tight.

 But he didn’t have it in him to fight anymore, not right now.

Not after months of watching the people he cared about die and get sick and break like brittle branches under the constant stress of battle. He was tired, so tired that he wondered if it were possible to die from exhaustion. Every bone in his body ached but he still had the urge to flee, as if he could run back to the safety of his home and the smell of the sea and his mother’s arms.

He wanted to run until everything made sense again.

 There were only three things that stopped him from doing just that:

His hatred of injustice.

His loyalty to his friends.

His loyalty and love for you.

 He never thought that there was a difference between loyalty and devotion until he’d met you, when he realized that you meant everything to him. As far as Joe Liebgott was concerned the sun and the stars only hung in the sky and shined because you willed them to. Before you’d even given him a second glance he’d known that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth if it meant making you happy. He thought he might even consider leaving San Francisco if doing so ensured you would spend the rest of your days by his side. 

 Not that he told you any of that. 

Telling you how head over heels in love he was with you meant that you’d know.

And if you knew, you could turn him away.

And he didn’t think he’d be able to deal with that.

 So he settled for showing you how much he cared.

 Sex had always been easy for him, another extension of his tendency to seek out a physical release when the thoughts and feelings boiling his blood became too much.

He was a quick learner and he’d be lying if he said that making his partner fall apart in ecstasy didn’t give him a major ego boost. For a skinny kid who’d been bullied for things beyond his control, knowing that he could fuck his tormenter’s girlfriends better than they ever could gave him the confidence to fight back. 

 Joe never claimed to be a good man, something he used as an excuse for the libidinous delinquency of his early teenage years. It kept people from expecting anything from him, kept him safe from the disappointment he left in his wake

Those days felt like lifetimes ago now. 

Today, he felt powerless. He had no wind in his sails, no fire in his belly.

 He needed to feel something good, something to remind him that he wasn’t as useless or powerless as this war left him feeling. 

And, because you were both sin and salvation in one, you had seen it.

 Which was what brought him here, having trailed after you like the dutiful servant he was after you’d whispered the command in his ear.

You knew what he needed and because you were too good for him you would give it to him, you’d let him take back whatever prowess he’d lost in that month-long foxholed nightmare.

 Your coat was already off, and when you whispered his name he came to stand before you obediently. Your bruised and battle-raw hands found his face and brushed gently against his cheeks, fingertips trailing the path across his too-sharp cheekbones as if he were something precious.

Why you kept coming back to him, Joe would never know. He wanted to, but that would mean the two of you would have to actually talk about those feelings lurking beneath your bated breaths and he knows that would change this strange dynamic he cherished so much.

 When you whisper his name again, he finally meets your eyes- feeling small and intrusive under such open care. Sincerity made him anxious, but with you he couldn’t bring himself to lie about how broken he was. Keeping the depth of his affection from you wasn’t as much a lie as it was an omission, or at least that’s how he justified it to himself.

 The fisr press of your lips to his is always sweet, and this time is no exception. Your lips are chapped but still softer than they have any right to be, and when you press your next kiss to his mouth you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you.

 Joe takes your bottom lip gently between his, always wanting to make sure that this was what you actually wanted, that you got at least a moment of sweetness before he let himself be selfish.

Because that’s what he was, even though he didn’t want to be- especially not with you.

But it was all he knew. 

Why did you let him do this?

 You sigh shallowly as he grips at your hips, his tongue spearing your lips apart so he can make the kiss deeper, firmer. Better. More.

The hands that had fisted in his hair slide down his chest and begin to unbuckle his gun belt, fingers nimble and quick from muscle memory. You don’t have much room to work, not with the way he’s pressing his torso into yours yet still you manage to drop it to the floor and move on to the buttons of his jacket.

 He can feel your brows furrowing as you press your forehead to his and gasp for breath, your eyelashes ticking his skin as he kisses at whatever part of your face he can get his lips on.

His hands pull and fist into the mess of your hair as he walks you backward, letting one of his hands follow the curve of your neck to wrap around your throat when your back meets the wall.

 Holding you there, he kisses you with tongue and teeth and groans when he tastes blood.

“Yeah?” he asks, and when he hears you echo the word he knows that you don’t mind the overenthusiasm. That you don’t want him to stop.

 It’s his turn now to seek the belt holding up your cargo pants, his fingers noticeably fumbling with excitement and making the metal of the buckle clack promisingly against itself.

He doesn’t bother removing the belt from the loops, more focused on tackling the button keeping him from his goal.

 Your nails are scratching at his chest, his neck and scalp as you match his eagerness. He likes when your nails are a bit overgrown like this- likes the bite of them and the red lines they leave behind despite your attempts to refrain from marking him.

If Joe had his way, you’d leaven him bruised from head to toe from your love bites. He wants people to know how much you want him, how desperate you get int hese moments.

You are so reserved in public. It had shocked him how untamed you could be in private.

 You’re pleading with him under your breath, alternating between his name and telling him to hurry up. It drives him wild, the idea of you impatient to get him inside of you.

It makes him so hard it hurts.

 The moment that he unfastens your pants you’re turning around and bracing your hands against the wall, gasping quietly when he tears them down your legs and kneels to free at least one of your feet from the leg of your pants. Your underwear comes down easily, and as it does the smell of your arousal is revealed to him like someone uncorking a fine wine.

 Joe bites the skin of the backs of your thighs as he follows the scent to the source, bunching your shirt around your hips and pulling at your waist so your back is arched for him. You always hiss when he kneads the cheeks of your ass up and away so he can nose at the thatch of damp hair between your legs, and if you were somewhere else he knows you’d call him disgusting and depraved.

As if those words didn’t encourage his behavior. As if it made him any less debauched.

 “Not now, Joe,” you mumble, one of your hands reaching behind you to grip onto his too-long hair and pull at him. “I can’t keep quiet if you do that now, not here….”

You’re right, your otherworldly self-control does always seem to slip when he eats you out- which he loves but he also knows that getting caught doing such a thing in a church is something neither of you wants to have happen.

So he settles for ducking a quick kiss there and biting your buttcheek before he stands and pulls himself from his pants.

 You keep your hand in his hair as you press your forehead against your forearm against the wall. Joe can feel your back heaving with the quick, deep breaths you’re taking, the knowledge that you’re this worked up because of him adding to the tight warmth pooling at the base of his spine.

If you both somehow managed to survive this war, the first thing he wanted to do was fuck you until you passed out. Watching you hazy and fucked out was one of the only things he missed about being in Toccoa.

 He’s wrapped his arm around your hip and doesn’t realize how vigorously he’s been rubbing at your sex until you twist your grip in his hair so tightly he almost cries out in pain.

 “Please please please, inside me, don’t make me come until you’re inside me—”

 How is he supposed to deny a request like that? When you’ve asked so sweetly?

The first thrust inside of you almost unmans him, it’s been so long since he’s been able to relish in the hot and tight squeeze of you that he nearly blows his load embarrassingly soon.

He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder and gasps pathetically into the soft pillow of your hair, glad you are so distracted by your own pleasure that you probably don’t hear the high keen in his throat as he starts to piston his hips.

 Keeping one hand between your legs he brings the other up your stomach to grope at your chest, the feeling of your nipple against the rough skin of his palm sending rivulets of sweat down his back.

You always started babbling when he started playing with your tits, making him think that your past partners had neglected to give them the attention they deserved. Since your time in Europe, he’d noticed that they’d become smaller, most likely from losing your soft weight under the heavily rationed diet they all sustained themselves on.

He didn’t mind, if anything he thought they had become more sensitive from it.

Next time, he’d make sure to pay more attention to them from the get-go.

 Next time.

 With that thought, Joe suddenly remembers the sight of you huddled behind the hay bale beside Dike. watching you and his friends scramble for cover under the heavy fire of the German Army had made him sick to his stomach, the lack of direction from Foxhole Norman leaving you vulnerable for far longer than you ought to have been.

 Joe, stuck providing suppressing fire in the tree line, had never felt more useless in his life. Because all he could do was watch while Dike pulled your body over his in some desperate attempt to shield himself from enemy fire, your screams for Dike to let you go reaching Joe’s ears and making his heart still in his chest.

 If Joe had had a clear shot, he would have truly considered taking it.

 Suddenly, the fact that Joe can’t see your face is wildly unacceptable, and he pulls himself from your velvet heat immediately.

Hands finding your hips, he twists you around before you can voice your protest- your face twisting in pleasure when he shoves you up the wall and sheathes himself inside of you once more.

 Yeah, this is better. God, you’re beautiful.

 Your head is thrown back as you bite back your sounds of pleasure, your breaths coming out sharp and hard with each full rut of him inside you. Skin flushed and shining, some of your hairs are sticking to your temples attractively and when you look down and catch him admiring you, you smile.

 The press of your forehead to his allows him to hear all the praise you’re gritting out between clenched teeth for him- your words making him moan low in his throat.

 “You’re close,” you sigh, a hitched sigh interrupting your cooing. “Shit, Joe- I can feel how close you are—”

“Shut up.” he hisses without any venom, not disagreeing with your observation but also not wanting to come before you. “Just, shut up about it— fuck.”

 Before he can stop you, you capture his lips in a deep kiss and clench down around him- a move you know he can’t resist.

He always seemed to forget how wicked you can be when it comes to making him come. your drive to push him over the edge first was just as strong as his desire to do the same to you.

Unfortunately, it seemed like you were going to win this time.

 The bite of your nails at the nape of his neck paired with a dragging, tight roll of your hips sends him tumbling over the edge- your hand slamming over his mouth before his guttural cry has a chance to escape his throat.

“Yes yes yes yes yes…” you are praising from somewhere near his left ear, his vision going white and his muscles clenching violently with the force of his orgasm. “Look at you….shit, don’t stop doing- oh!”

 The feeling of you fluttering around him is foggy in his blissed-out mind, and when he feels himself re-enter his body he is sitting beside you on the cold stone floor and you’re running your hands over his face and brushing his sweaty hair from his brow.

 When he regains use of his limbs, he brings his hands up to take your wrists and pull them until your face is close enough for him to kiss, his lips lazy and slow against yours as you kiss him back.

 All too soon, you duck a quick kiss to his cheek and sit back- using the hem of your shirt to wipe at his cum as it gathers between your legs.

He knows what comes now- he knows that you’re going to leave and give him a moment to put himself together and rejoin you whenever he’s ready.

That’s how it’s always gone, and while he hates it he knows that he was the one who started this routine back in Georgia- because he was afraid that he’d accidentally tell you how much he loved you.

 Joe knows that he needs to tell you, the words curling on his tongue as he watches you put your clothes back on and rebraid your hair away from your face. He knows that if he asked you to stay that you would, you’d stay and let him tell you how lost he would be without you- how this isn’t about sex and hasn’t been just sex for a long time.

 But he doesn’t, and when you sling your gun over your shoulder and turn back to give him a knowing smile he can only give you a wink that portrays more cockiness than he actually feels.

 “Better?” you ask, your cheeks still rosy and your lips still swollen from his biting kisses.

He can’t, not now. It could ruin everything.

“Better.” he hears himself agree, and the moment you slip out of sight he smacks his helmet and it skitters across the floor.

 Alone, in the dark room that now smelled like sex, Joe wonders how much longer he’s going to be able to keep quiet.

Because when he’s like this, he’s reminded of how there may not be a next time.

 Fishing around for a cigarette in the pocket of his pants, Joe tells himself that he’ll tell you in the morning.

Maybe he'll be braver in the morning.

~ ~ ~

TWO IN ONE NIGHT?! WHO IS SHE?

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @teenmagazines​ @liebgotttme​

[exhaustedfander]

One shot request intruality, Patton and Remus having a conversation about their insecurities. Mostly focusing on how they both have times of struggling to understand the other sides ex. Making some changes

This isn’t exactly what was requested, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I had a lot of fun with this one! 

Word Count: 3,322

Summary: Recently, Patton and Remus's relationship has begun to change. When Patton lets a pet name slip by accident, a much-needed conversation takes place.

ao3 link

Sweet Pea

To say that Remus hadn’t been expecting any of this would be a gross understatement. He is by no means the kind of side to have too many expectations; when your whole thing is being unpredictable, you learn to stop expecting things and simply see what life chucks your way. Even so, having a relationship with Patton of any kind has thrown him for a loop like very few things can.

It isn’t as though Remus has a vendetta against Patton. Sure, the guy is a lot more clean-cut then his style, which is to say, not a rat-man, and he indulges in far fewer of life’s pleasures than Remus does, but he doesn’t hate him. For a while there, he’d been real fun to mess with, knowing Patton was so afraid of him. So much as walking into a room could set the fatherly side on edge, and wasn’t that just the best? He adored messing with any of the others, but Patton was by far the easiest.

The only problem is, it’s become a hell of a lot less fun with Patton since the massive shift that’s occurred between them. When Janus got accepted into the “good guys,” Remus was convinced that his role likely wouldn’t change – which he was totally fine with! He’s been the same old Duke for years, even if Thomas hadn’t known about him for almost the entirety of his life, and that was okey-doke. But… after Janus found himself a seat at the table, so it seemed, did Remus.

It isn’t as though he’s been given the green light to try and convince Thomas to do absolutely anything he wants to do, as fun as that would be. But the weird thing is, Patton had apologized to him. Morality, who’d been so wary of him for so long, had told him that he had been judging him too harshly and that surely, there was a lot of good in him. Remus isn’t one to have expectations, but that had struck him as odd. Why the fuck would Patton want him to be around, considering all he represented? Why would morality want anything to do with him?

As weird as everything is, Remus had been under the impression that Patton was merely tolerating him, maybe in an attempt to make the others believe he was making nice with everyone. At first, Remus kept up his usual behavior, obnoxious and crude, but it didn’t rattle Patton like it used to. Sure, he’d get a surprised shriek or two when he dangled from the ceiling from one of his tentacles or rose up unexpectedly, but then Patton would simply smile at him and say hello.

 Patton isn’t scared of him, not anymore, and Remus doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

He’s used to others being unnerved in his presence, considering who he is. But since Patton has been alright with him hanging around them more and more, he’s noticed them doing more to tolerate him as well. Roman is, well, he isn’t complaining about him quite as much as usual. He’s even stopped chastising him every time he comes into the imagination claiming he’ll “Ruin everything!”, even if it is their shared domain. Virgil still seems fairly irritated with him, but that’s nothing new and Remus doesn’t mind. Logan is being far more considerate of him then he’d think, considering he’d chucked throwing stars at his face before. Janus has always at the very least tolerated him, so that’s just peachy-keen. The other sides are being considerate enough not to complain every time he’s near, but Patton has gone above and beyond in welcoming him lately. And that… is decidedly very weird.

He's invited him to come to dinner, even encouraging that he can eat whatever he wants, no matter how seemingly inedible it is. It’s certainly amusing to see the looks on the other’s faces when he sits down at the dinner table as if he belongs there; he doesn’t think he belongs there, but that’s beside the point.

Patton does everything he can to keep things civil at the table, to a point where Remus is almost impressed if he weren’t such an agent of chaos himself. He nips blossoming spats between Virgil and Janus in the bud as quickly as they arise and he tells jokes and puns that Remus can’t help but find a little endearing, in a silly, dad way. Remus decides to tell some jokes of his own, and while they are on the harsher and more disgusting side, he elicits a few chuckles from Patton while the rest of them simply roll their eyes.

It doesn’t make any sense; Patton has just stopped being terrified of him, and now here he is, morality, giggling at Remus’s mention of cannibalism. Has the world gone mad? Has he gone mad? Quite possibly.

Things only grow stranger from that point on. Patton speaks often with Remus, encouraging him that they are getting to be “real good friends” and Remus is even invited to movie nights (“I’m afraid your birthday suit is not an acceptable outfit for movie night, kiddo).

It isn’t hard to tell that the others are at least somewhat displeased with him being there, for the most part. Sure, Janus doesn’t have any problems with him, and Logan doesn’t seem to hate him, but Roman is clearly very agitated and Virgil seems to be doing everything in his power to ignore him. And yet Patton, of all sides, continues to provide so much warmth and joy his way it almost made him want to puke.

Remus isn’t used to this kind of treatment. Even with Janus, someone he considers his closest friend, there is very little affection between them. Remus is used to being the gross one, the nuisance, the “problem child.” Being fawned over is a completely new experience and one he can’t decide how he feels about. Patton isn’t scared of him anymore, and that was kind of a bummer at first, but now? Well, now Remus isn’t quite sure what the hell is going on.

After movie night of a few Disney films, everyone else had decided to hit the hay, yet Patton and Remus remain. Remus is sure any moment now Patton will rise from his spot and declare that he is going to sleep, too. Except… that isn’t what happens.

Instead, Patton asks Remus if he has any movie recommendations, something they could watch, just the two of them.

“I don’t think my kind of movies are really your style, Pattycake,” Remus insists, thoroughly shocked that Patton would so much as ask. The fatherly side shakes his head.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we can’t give it a try. I’d like to watch something you enjoy for a change,” Patton says, smiling kindly, “If it’s really that bad, I’m sure I could just let you know.” That seems okay, Remus supposes.

“Yeah, alright. But don’t complain to me when you get sweet little nightmares,” Remus warns, though in actuality he doesn’t plan on showing Patton anything too intense. Before, the idea of giving Patton nightmares was positively delicious, but now – now it made him feel kinda sick, and not in a good way, either.

Remus decides to pop in The Cabin in the Woods, seeing as it is a comedy as well as horror and fairly silly, despite the gore. He’s sure Patton won’t be too much of a fan of it and bail out early on, and yet here he remains, sitting close to him on the couch and looking intently at the screen.

Remus realizes maybe he doesn’t know as much about Patton as he thought he did when he giggles a bit at a scene of people being mascaraed by a large group of monsters running amuck, laughing particularly hard when a character meets a gruesome fate at the hand of a less than conventionally attractive merman. All the while the movie has been going, Remus notices that Patton has been inching closer and closer until his head is resting on his shoulder. The thought of Patton willingly being so close to him sends a strange feeling of contentment through him. For most of their lives, Patton has been so wary of him, and now he’s almost as close as he can get. Why would something as silly as Patton laying his head on his shoulder make him feel so strange?

Remus is almost positive that he is going to burst into flames when Patton smiles at him once the film had ended and says: “I don’t know what you were worried about. That was a really fun movie, Sweet Pea.”

Remus jerks away, scooting to the edge of the couch while Patton shoots him a look of concern.

“Remus, are you okay?”

“What… what did you just call me?” Patton blinks.

“…Huh?”

“You called me Sweet Pea. Why – why the hell did you do that for?” Even in the fairly dark living room, Remus can see the blush that’s spread across Patton’s face, meaning his own flushed cheeks are visible as well. Patton wrings his hands, apprehension present in the action.

“W-well, I dunno, I guess it just kinda… slipped?” Patton offers weakly, praying Remus will accept the answer without fighting it any more than that. Of course, that’s not to be the case.

“It slipped?” Remus asks incredulously. “Why in the world would you use a word like that to describe me?” Patton doesn’t respond for a moment, his eyes settled on his lap, refusing to answer Remus’s burning question. After a minute or so, though, Patton speaks.

“Things have been different between us lately, haven’t they?”

The question hangs heavy in the air. Remus barely knows how to respond. Of course, things have been different; Patton’s actively professed he enjoys hanging-out, to say things hadn’t changed would be a blatant lie.

“I mean… yeah. You’ve been all sweet with me, I guess. Which you get is weird, right?”

“Why would it be weird?” Patton asks, so genuinely it hurts.

“Because,” Remus says as though Patton’s a lunatic for asking the question, gesturing vaguely to himself, “I’m me! Intrusive thoughts, remember? Everything nasty that’s been shut away for the last thirty-years; everything you hate.” Patton’s mouth creases into a frown.

“I don’t hate you, Remus. I… well, I never have. I was just scared of you, once, but I just didn’t understand you then.” Remus scoffs.

“And now you understand me completely?”

“I never said that. But…” Patton hesitates, biting his lip before extending Remus his hand, “I want to. I want to know you better. I was so lost in the belief that I knew best for so long… and I’ll always be sorry for that. I’m sorry for the way that I treated you and Janus; it wasn’t right of me. Not at all. But I’m trying. I want to know you guys. I want to know you, Remus.”

Remus retracts his hand, the warmth in his chest bursting into flames, a fire that’s sure to burn down everything that it touches.

“You don’t want that,” he insists, his eyes training on the wall, eager to avoid the heavy weight of Patton’s gaze.

“But I do!”

“No, you just think you do,” Remus grits through his teeth, the fire bathing him in a horrible warmth, “You – you just think you want that. But you don’t. You’re too sweet for that. Too sweet to know me that way. You’ll quit while you’re ahead if you know what’s good for you.” Remus rises to his feet, positive the fire is enveloping him now, positive to burn him to the ground. With each passing second, he burns a little brighter, skin melting and bones turning to ash. The feeling is something horrible, he realizes, more abhorrent than anything he could possibly conjure.

Remus is falling in love with Patton.

Remus shivers as Patton grabs a hold of his wrist, keeping him from feeling. Doesn’t he get it; Remus is trying to keep him from perishing in the fire as well. He’ll die alone, go up and smoke if it means Patton is safe.

“Patton – let go,” Remus says, the request a beg more than anything else. Patton shakes his head, determination brimming in his eyes.

“I won’t. I’m not letting you leave, Remus.”

Remus pulls harder, shocked by the sheer strength Patton is exhibiting. If it were anyone else, he’d do anything to escape, biting, scratching, and clawing his way out, if necessary. But Patton isn’t anyone else and he’s been stupid enough to develop dangerously strong feelings. Patton calling him something so soft and painfully domestic has awoken something fragile in him, and he intends to put an end to it.

“Why not? Why the fuck are you trying so hard to be nice to me? Why do you care?”

“Because…” Patton swallows the lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets go and admits it, “I like you!”

“Wh-what?”

“I said: I like you. I’ve been spending time with you because I want to. I want you to feel welcomed, I want you to know you have a place here. But also because I like you. A lot.” Finally, Patton’s released him, and yet Remus can’t find it in himself to run away.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do!” Patton maintains, his eyes burning with a sincerity that’s scaring the hell out of Remus, “Lately, I’ve seen you light up and… I like that. I like seeing you so much happier, I like seeing you and Jan joking in the commons and at the dinner table. I like it when you greet me in silly ways when you hang from the ceiling with your tentacles or jump from behind the couch. I like the time we spend together; I like that I’m getting to know you more.

“I like you, Remus. And if you don’t feel the same… then I understand. If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry… again. But I need you to understand that I want this, I want to hang out, I want to watch movies that you pick out. I want you to be real with me because you can! I’m not afraid of you anymore, and I never want to be ever again. Liking you is much better than that.”

Remus doesn’t know how to respond. The fire is incasing him now, but he’s not sure if he’s going to be reduced to a pile of ashes anymore. Patton is offering so much, more than he realizes. He’s offering the kindness he’s already shown him, offering understanding unlike he’s ever known, offering intimacy unlike he’s ever experienced. And he could turn away and forget this ever happened if he so desired. Patton’s giving him that option, too, no matter how much it’s clear that he doesn’t want to. All because of some sappy nickname being said accidentally, Remus is being extended an opportunity he never envisioned for himself.

Remus has the chance to get to know Patton for everything that he is, faults and all, a chance to see the moral side down to his very core. And, in turn, he’s being given the chance to be known himself, in a way he didn’t think anyone would ever truly be interested. It would be a major understatement to say he’s a little overwhelmed.

“Do you… do you mean it?” He hates the vulnerability in his wavering voice, threatening to break. He hasn’t felt so overrun by emotions of this caliber in years, used to being brushed aside and ignored. Patton smiles, so genuinely Remus is almost positive the heart he wasn’t aware of owning is about to burst.

“With all my heart,” Patton says, and that’s the straw that breaks the Camel’s back.

Remus launches himself forward, throwing his arms around the moral side and burying his face in his neck. Patton stiffens for a moment, caught off-guard before returning the embrace with nearly as much vigor.

“Me too,” Remus says, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he clings to Patton, the fire no less lively but dying down in terms of threat, “I like you too, Patton. A-a lot. More than bugs, or blood and guts, or all the deodorant in the world.” Patton laughs at that, the sound bright and so full of joy as he runs a hand through Remus’s frazzled hair.

“Well, what a lucky guy I am,” Patton says, though his tone is nothing but serious.

After a moment they part long enough to sit back down on the couch, though Remus is quick to place himself right in Patton’s lap, his legs wrapping around the moral side’s waist. Remus has never known much in the ways of personal space and Patton is almost always eager to hug the nearest person to him, combining to an unlikely but very cuddly pair.

“Hey, Remus, how many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” Patton asks. The smile that’s crept onto Remus’s face and refused to leave grows.

“I dunno, Pattycake, how many?”

“Ten tickles!” Patton says before unleashing an onslaught of tickles onto Remus, earning a trail of giggles Patton is sure is one of the loveliest things he’s ever heard.

“Sta-stop it! knock it off, Pat or I’ll-I’ll claw your eyes out!” Remus warns jokingly, peeling off into another peel of laughter before Patton stops.

“Hey, Sweet Pea?” Patton asks after a moment. The nickname surprises Remus, but this time he’s a little more prepared for it.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, his hands cupping Remus’s face gently. Remus nods quickly, smiling as Patton leans in and closes the gap. The embrace is gentle, perhaps gentler than would be expected of Remus, but it’s nothing short of incredible. Remus relishes in the feeling of Patton’s soft lips, his hands burying themselves in Patton’s curls.

“Hey,” Remus says as they break apart, already intent on kissing Patton senseless the next chance he gets. For now, though, he’s drowning in the warmth that’s surrounding him, in the softness he’s suddenly been allowed.

“Hi,” Patton responds, his smile just as wide as Remus’s.

“You’re a damn good kisser, Cookie.” Patton turns three shades redder in a matter of seconds. “Aww, you got all embarrassed! You like me calling you my cookie?”

“Stop it, Remus!” Patton says with a giggle.

“What? You’re so sweet, I can’t help it.” “Remus.”

“Oh, so you can call me sweet pea, but I can’t call you cookie. How’s about my buttercup? Honeybee? Cutie Pie?”

“Remus,” Patton says, before pressing his lips to the intrusive side’s again, effectively silencing him.

Not long ago, Patton was terrified of Remus. Terrified of what he represented and what that could mean for Thomas. But that isn’t the case anymore, not nearly. Affection has grown between them without either of them realizing. They still don’t entirely know each other, not yet. But they will. Patton’s grown so much, accepting the faults in his thinking, and with Remus’s help, he’s sure he’ll continue to change for the better.

Remus never counted on intimacy, not seeing how it could possibly be in the cards. And yet here he is, embracing someone he hasn’t always understood but is now so desperate to now. Remus doesn’t entirely know if he’s built for this kind of tenderness, knowing that it wouldn’t be impossible for things to shift back and for Patton’s fear to remerge. For now, though, Remus doesn’t focus on the nagging thoughts of what could go wrong, simply embracing what’s right in front of him.

They put on another movie, going to bed at a reasonable time out the window, though it takes very little time for them to fall asleep in each other’s arms, the TV still playing some long since forgotten horror movie.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar 

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

[yanderecandystore]

How would (female) Darling react to a yandere King of the human world and a yandere Queen of vampires fighting for Darling’s hand)? [Headcannons]

Hello everyone, I hope you didn't wait too long.( ˘ ³˘)♥

I wasn't sure how to write this one, but it's a really interesting concept and I couldn't leave it behind.

 I don't think this is my best work, since the story that I'm going for is a little too big to be contained in a headcanon, so all may feel a little fast, and a little too long at the same time.

 So maybe I'm going to make an proper fanfiction with an longer experience of this events. And I'm sorry if this isn't what you were waiting for, and if there is too many errors. This is so huge, is a nightmare!

 Also, a little trigger warning, there is an mention of an increasing number of deaths caused by an "disease", but is mostly used in the headcanon as a little plot point, and is mostly because I like to reference the anime Shiki when I write about vampires. But if you feel like this may trigger or affect you in anyway, especially considering the recent events, I would just like to warn you right now.

꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡

Crossfire [Yandere Human King x F!Reader x Yandere Vampire Queen]:

 Being born as an commoner was already hard enough, you didn't need anymore trouble in your life!

 You started working inside the castle as a simple gardener, attending to the gardens inside the castle walls. The queen was known to love gardens, well, until she passed away.

 The queen passed away years before you started working inside the castle, and the original king? Died a couple of months ago.

 Both stated to have mysterious causes of death. Most likely caused by an disease.

 The coronation of the prince wasn't so long ago, so he is your king now. But even working under his roof, you only met him a couple of times.

 Some of your co-workers who had been here way longer than you would say he was a childish, egotistical man, who only cared about his wealth and power over the happiness of others. He didn't have a good relationship with the older king, and his mother passed away when he was only 5 years old.

 It wasn't a surprise for any of them that the new monarch would be an bitter man. Yet, he didn't seem to tend to only his needs.

 Although he is very rude to you and the other servants, he seems to take his responsibilities really seriously. He seems, almost always on edge, but you don't know why.

 Your task made it really easy to never interact with him, he seems to dislike going in his mother garden. You started feeling uneasy out in the garden, you could tell someone was watching you, and when you looked to find out who it was, you could see the king himself watching you from a window. Yet, even when meeting his gaze, you still felt like there was another pair of eyes watching you.

 One day, when you start to feel really paranoid, he decides to visit the garden.

 "- Oh! Greetings, your majesty!" You bow down to him, trying to hide your surprise, yet it didn't go unnoticed by him, he did came out of nowhere while you were doing your job after all.

 "- Good morning, miss [Y/N], right?" He doesn't seem to care about being to formal, but you still feel a little afraid to act the same way towards him.

 "- It's been so long since I last came here." He says. Looking around at this place which seems so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

 He seems to be daydreaming, memories of his mother flow through his mind causing him to feel desperate to go back inside the castle walls. Yet, he feels like he needs to be here.

 He knows you shouldn't be here. It's dangerous in the garden, his mother said so.

 "- A-are you okay?" His breathing, his whole body language tells you he is not okay. His almost hypnotized by whatever terrible thoughts going on his mind. It's the first time you see a different expression on his face. It's not one of anger or of silent disgust, is fear.

 It's like a child.

 You can't have him passing out like this, you take him to the nearest sit so he can calm down.

 "- I am calm!" He corrects you, clearly lying yet trying to strike his usual confident and superior act.

 "- No, you're not. Please, tell me what happened, should I call the maids? The guards?"

 You asking what's going on with him, yet he can't find the words to describe it. He is too scared to say, so you should try to comfort him instead of asking too much questions.

 Slowly, he start to feel more comfortable around you, your eyes, your voice, the reassuring touches, it helps him calm down. Your presence makes him forget that his is in this terrible place. You call the maids to help him out, it seems like they already know what to do in this type of situation.

 Weeks after the incident, and it seems like the king has been way more attentive to you. Always coming to the garden to talk with you, although he doesn't like to go to far inside the garden. It makes your job a little more difficult since he seems to take all of your attention, yet is a better company than the winds that shake the leaves of the lonely trees.

 He doesn't seem to be so rude with you. He is a little narcissistic, but not really mean towards you.

 He never told you what happened that day, he only said that the garden brings bad memories. Ever since that day, he kept worrying about you.

 Trying to convince you to take the roll as a maid, it would be more beneficial for you, and he could keep you away from the garden.

 Yet, you never accepted his request. It seemed weird how fast you became close to the king. 

 You never understood why he would be so afraid at the garden, until one day, you unfortunately found out who was always watching you work in the garden.

 You weren't feeling well, so you decided to take a night walk through the garden. It didn't seem like an clever idea at first (and it wasn't), but when you saw the lights coming from the garden from the window of your room, you couldn't resist taking a closer look.

 Fireflies! They look like little stars dancing around the garden.

 You should have stayed inside.

 Someone, or something, came from behind and neutralized you. It was too fast for you to notice, but now that you're awake as in a completely different place with an familiar knight in front of you, you guess this is what happened.

 "- W-where am I?" You try asking the knight who is blocking the door. You try pulling yourself up, yet feel your hands immediately be pulled to the ground by the chains wrapping them.

 This makes you instantly freak out and fully wake up. You're inside a dungeon cell.

 Yet, the knight doesn't say anything. He just huffs at your whining. You were about to try take some information out of him, when someone knocks on the door.

 He looks at you one last time, you can't see his face because of his helmet, yet you can still tell he is threatening you to try anything funny. He turns his way to open the door and go outside, closing the door after getting out.

 You can't hear what's going on outside, but since you're all alone, you might as well try to take a good look around. There is only the door, a uncomfortable looking bed, and a window too small for you to fit in.

 Noticing that the only light in the room, was the moonlight coming through the window. It is still night time. There must be away out-

 "- Evening." Said an female voice. It was monotone, yet seductive in a way. You turn around to find an tall woman wearing dark, extravagant clothes.

 Her face was covered by an dark veil, it was as if she was an bride wearing fully black, or an black widow. You didn't recognize her voice, or her appearance, yet you could only feel extremely frightened by her presence.

 "- I didn't think you would be awake this early, but since you're finally conscious we can get to know each other." She says as she starts to walk closer to your shaking form. You can't see her eyes, but you can tell she is staring at your very soul. 

 This feeling is way too familiar to you.

 "- Who are you? Where am I?" Trying to maintain a confident attitude you ask who is she. Yet, you are visibly too scared to strike a threatening tone, she notices this and laughs at your naivety.

 She kneels down and is face to face with you. This is not exactly how she wanted things to go, yet she is just so thirsty, she can't wait any longer!

 "- Aham." You hear the knight call the woman's attention, he seems annoyed with the lady. But either she doesn't notice him, or is just ignoring him. She just keeps observing you with a smile on her pale face.

 "- Your majesty." He calls, oh, well apparently your kidnapper is royalty! You don't feel honored by that even a little bit.

 "- Yes?" She says overly cheerful, while cupping your cheeks and turning your face, examining your neck. You hold your whimpers, you feel like that would be giving her too much satisfaction.

 "- I'm aware I'm not in any position to question your actions-"

 "- Yes, absolutely. You're not!" She giggles, although her statement wasn't necessarily mean, her tone seemed to change between anger and playfulness, like she is mocking the knight intrusive behavior.

  "- May I ask why I had to go to the filthy castle, to bring you just a simple gardener?"

 "- Excuse me?" She finally turns to look up at the knight, who can easily see the mistake he has made. Her tone is serious this time around.

 "- I mean- Why her? Why not bring the king? Or any more powerful member of that place? We could have planned an elaborate attack, destroy their kingdom and bring in the humans for-" You started to really dislike where he was going, but before you could get all of the information, the queen shushes him, before he spilled so much info.

 "- Oh, my dear, loyal knight, can't you see we have a quest?" She almost yells at him so he could stop mumbling.

 "- You're making her afraid~" She pinches your cheek. 

 "- WE don't want her to be afraid on her first night, right?"

 ' How considerate.' You think.

 "- And for your question… Well-"

 She pauses putting a finger over her lips, thinking over what her knight just said.

 "- It's true we could have stuck we the plan and destroy the human kingdom fully, and although it is NONE of your business, I'm going to explain to you why I asked you to get me this sweet looking girl instead."

 "- …"

 The room falls silent, is she waiting for him to question? She wraps her arms around you, her grip is almost squeezing the air in your lungs out.

 "- … W-why?-"

 "- Because I'm extremely pick with what I drink, love." She keeps giggling and hugging you tighter. Wait, what did she mean by-

 "- And you, my lovely knight, is in no position to question me, or are you?" Her tone is playful, yet her whole demeanor seems so threatening.

  He keeps his head down, you can hear him say a meek "yes". Maybe he is just as scared if her as you are.

 "- Leave." Her happy tone goes away again and is replaced by the serious one.

 He stumbles a little, but manages to get out of the cell as quick as he could.

 After she makes sure she can't listen to his footsteps anymore, she signs and turns her full attention on you.

 "- Sigh, I lost the mood, you know?"

 Yeah, you know exactly what she is talking about.

 "- Oh don't look at me like that, aren't you glad you're here? You're in presence of a vampire queen, you know?"

 "- … What?" Is all you can think of asking. What is she talking about? Vampires aren't real, right?

 "- You're so cute! I'm so glad you're here, I been hungry for so many weeks now. How mean of you to make me hungry~" She smiles while teasing your neck with her fangs. They look so sharp to the touch.

 She is saying the truth though. They had planned an attack for months now, yet after she saw you, she had thrown all of that preparation out of the window.

 Like a spoiled child, she refuse to drink from anyone or anything. Your sweet little form plagued her mind. She was a pick drinker, nothing but the best for the queen, after all.

 She was planning on having a better approach to you. Having a better room for you than the other blood stocks on the dungeons, having an good preparation to meet you in person and bring you here with her mind control.

 But she is just so hungry. And you have an nice sent, better than any of the nobles of your kingdom she had drunk from.

 "- Don't worry about it." She whispers, not waiting too long to just sink her fangs into you.

 After so much screaming and so much failed attempts at running away from her grasp. You had fallen asleep. While she didn't know if she would stay here or go back to her chambers.

 And on the castle were you once worked for, the king search for you at every corner, after noticing that you were missing from your room.

꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡