#askgust

[hold-him-down]

you guys are gonna be so impressed when i bring my ask box from 106 to 0

[hold-him-down]

🥰 - Post-nightmare cuddles

For Leo my love

Post Nightmare Cuddles

Notes: Takes place somewhere late in their first year. All fluff, no TW.

this is a response to this ask thing. 

✥ ✥ ✥ 

Leo’s t-shirt is drenched by the time Luke wakes enough to process what’s happening. He rolls to his side, careful not to move too quickly.

Leo’s shoulders are tight; his body jerks abruptly, a sound that’s a blend of a cry and a soft plea escapes him as he grips tightly into the fabric of his pillowcase.

“Okay,” Luke whispers, the tips of his fingers finding Leo’s spine. He keeps his touch light, watching carefully as Leo’s body reacts. Leo pulls away sharply before accepting the touch. He’s still asleep. The whispered pleas turn to a more steady, soft crying.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Luke flattens his palm against Leo’s back, grimacing as he feels the tremors rip through him. He doesn’t allow his imagination to fill in the reason for Leo's nightmares anymore. Instead, he lets his hand move slowly, making small circles, gradually applying a little more pressure, waiting for the tension to let up.

Sometimes, Leo stays asleep. That’s the end goal, always. If Leo wakes, he usually can't fall back asleep. His eyes will be red when they eventually get out of bed, he’ll move sluggishly around the apartment and smile lazily and break Luke’s heart, over and over. If he stays asleep, at least he’ll be rested.

Endless minutes pass, and the soft crying lightens. The whole-body tremors stop. They turn to occasional, light shaking that Luke can only see in Leo’s fingers, clutching tightly at his pillow. He doesn’t stop rubbing his back, but he moves a little bit closer.

When Leo’s body stills completely, Luke relaxes, letting his weight fall a little heavier into his pillow. Well, into Leo’s pillow, he guesses.

He releases a slow breath, puts his arm over Leo’s stomach, and pulls himself a few inches closer. It's needlessly reckless, he thinks. But Leo relaxes into his arms, his breathing evening out, his pounding heart slowing, and even though it's reckless, it's worth it. He's getting used to this, slowly. To platonic affection. To offering Leo physical comfort, in spite of how nervous it makes him.

“Hey,” Leo whispers, pulling him out of that specific type of reverie that he tries to avoid as much as he can get away with. He watches as Leo peels each of his fingers free of their death-grip on the pillow.

Luke smiles, squeezing him a little bit. “You doing alright?” he asks softly. All traces of uncertainty are gone, and it's just him and Leo, and Leo is calm, and Leo is relaxed, and it's okay.

“Was it a bad one?” Leo’s hand wraps around Luke’s arm as he presses himself closer.

“Yeah,” Luke replies. “Not great. Do you want to talk about it?”

Even though he can’t see Leo well, he can feel him shake his head.

“Okay,” he says. “Do you need some water? It’s still early. I think we should try to sleep a little more.”

Leo nods. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

Without a word, Luke tightens his grip on him just a little bit more. Within minutes, Leo's out, every bit of the previous tension completely dissipated. Luke can’t help but press his lips into Leo’s hair as he lets his own eyes close. It's not long before he slides back into a light sleep.

 @peachy-panic, @whump-cravings @afabulousmrtake @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @pumpkin-spice-whump @distinctlywhumpthing @thecyrulik @highwaywhump @batfacedliar-yetagain @finder-of-rings @dont-touch-my-soup @skyhawkwolf @suspicious-whumping-egg @also-finder-of-rings @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @prodigal-zoe @melancholy-in-the-morning @urban-dark @nicolepascaline @quietly-by-myself @seasaltandcopper @angstyaches @i-msonotcreative @mylifeisonthebookshelf @anonintrovert @whump-world @bite-down-on-this 

[hold-him-down]

🛏 - Someone by their bedside when they wake up for Leo

A response to this ask thing.

TW: aftermath of noncon, aftermath of electric shocks, parker

Notes: directly follows he's a fighter

✥ ✥ ✥ 

At some point in the night, Leo must have fallen asleep. The sun is high when he’s awoken by fingers pushing under his head, and everything, every muscle and bone in his body, aches.

“Easy,” Parker says, fumbling at the back of the gag. The memories of the previous night are fresh in his mind, and Leo swallows. Parker, he thinks, misunderstands the tension, and says, “It’s just me.”

He says it as though it’ll offer Leo comfort, and it should, but right now, Leo feels something dangerously close to vitriol for him. As soon as he recognizes the feeling, his muscles tense up. The movement sends a new wave of pain through him, his body operating on some subconscious warning system. “I don’t know what they do to you at those sites to make you so fucking tense in the mornings,” he says to himself. “I thought you could use a couple extra hours of sleep. You had a tough night.”

Leo doesn’t know if he’s going to laugh or cry at that, but the moment shifts as the gag is pulled off of him, every muscle in his face and neck and jaw and mouth reacting instantly. Excruciating pain mixed with relief immediately brings about a wave of tears. He pinches his eyes shut as the liquid runs under his earlobes, and he feels Parker’s weight on the mattress.

Fingers press into his jaw, into the spot at the back of his head where the strap dug in overnight, and some sound that he can’t quite call back escapes him. He doesn’t have the opportunity to be afraid of it being the wrong reaction. His heart races.

“Easy,” Parker says again. His fingers card through Leo’s hair, and the relief is palpable. He knows he should feel anger, he knows he should hate this. He does hate it, but his breaths come heavily as Parker seeks the ease the pain, and he doesn’t hate it, does he? Parker wipes the tears off of his cheeks and rubs the back of his neck and sits silently. And even though Leo’s afraid to open his eyes, to see if Parker is annoyed or upset or even worse, regrets buying his contract, he doesn’t want Parker’s hands off him.

“Hang tight,” Parker says, pulling away with no other warning. The void left by Parker’s fingers is cold and painful and Leo cranes his neck, his body seeking out the touch without the explicit permission of his mind. “Jesus, Leo. You’re insatiable,” Parker says absently. His tone is light, teasing almost, and Leo forces himself to relax back into his pillow.

He opens his eyes for the first time as Parker unlocks the cuff at his right wrist. Parker is gentle as he repositions Leo’s arm, but Leo cries out in spite of himself. “Sorry,” Parker says, planting a kiss on each of Leo’s knuckles and spending a few minutes rubbing his wrist gingerly. He leans over the bed, releasing Leo’s other hand, and Leo is ready for the sharp pain this time.

He squeezes his eyes shut as Parker rubs his burning shoulders, letting his hands explore his back, his ribs, his stomach. It’s chaste enough, and it feels so good, and he hates this, he thinks. Every second of it. But his heart keeps racing, and he still doesn’t want it to stop.

“Alright, baby,” Parker says. It’s too soon, but he knows what’s coming. “I think we can agree that things got a little out of hand last night.” Parker pulls his hands away from Leo and Leo sits up slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the late-morning sunlight. “Let’s get you in the shower. Once you’re cleaned up, I’ll make you breakfast? Something special, and we’ll call it square, okay?”

Leo nods.

“You’ll forgive me?” Parker asks, once more bringing Leo’s knuckles to his lips. “It won’t go that far again.”

“I–” Leo’s mouth snaps shut, but he can’t form the words he knows he’s supposed to form.

“Say you’ll forgive me,” Parker repeats, a little more firmly.

“Okay,” Leo says. He nods, a bid to end this moment, to reinforce the sentiment. “I’ll forgive you.”

He chances a glance at Parker, who nods once and then rises to his feet, offering his hand. Leo doesn’t take it. Instead, he stands, and walks out of the bedroom.

The half-smile that crosses Parker’s face isn’t lost on him, but he doesn’t let himself think about what it means.

[hold-him-down]

Wait!!! What did Luke do for his birthday!?!! I want to celebrate him!! Did he make himself a cake!? Did Leo help?! Did flour and frosting get everywhere!? I must know 😍🥳

*gives Luke a leather bound journal with a fancy pen that just glides so smoothly over the paper and belated birthday card covered in glitter*

notes: june year one, so like 10 months in

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“It’s your birthday?” Leo asks, as Luke hangs up the phone. His mother has made something of a tradition out of a 5 am birthday phone call before work. He goes back to packing his lunch, and Leo watches him carefully.

“I try not to make a big deal of it,” Luke says. He pauses, turning to regard Leo. “But yeah, it is.”

Leo smiles, clearing his throat. “Well, happy birthday." He takes a breath before he speaks again; Luke can see him processing it, can see the words forming on his lips, and he waits. He would gladly wait forever, just to hear what Leo has to say. "Do you have a wish?”

Luke chooses his words carefully. “Nothing would make me happier than if you’d leave the house for a little bit while I’m at work. Go to the library, pick out a book." He watches Leo tense at the suggestion, but it's not too bad. "We can read it together tonight,” he adds.

Leo nods, but he's nervous. Of course he is.

“Only if it feels okay, okay?” Luke whispers. “Only if you’re comfortable. Bring your phone, if you do go. If you don’t, we can stop somewhere together to pick one out when I get home.”

Luke’s smile is encouraging and Leo nods again. “Okay,” he says, and Luke can't help but worry he pushed too hard, even if he kept it as light as he could.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

It takes him four hours to get the courage to go to leave the house. He cleans it first, top to bottom. He does the laundry, he makes and remakes his bed. He chooses his outfit, then chooses a new one. It’s not that he’s scared to leave the house. He just. He’ll do it. He’ll be fine.

He puts a few older library books into his backpack, and he gets the credit card. It’s heavy in his palm, but if he dwells on it, he’ll change his mind.

He puts on his headphones and he puts on a coat, even though it’s hot outside, and he spends his time tying his shoes, and he’s… he’s stalling, isn’t he? He double checks that he has the credit card, the phone, the key, even though he knows he has them all.

Leo takes a deep breath before he steps into the open air, and an even deeper one once he’s outside. He almost never leaves without Luke, and even less often since [the bad thing happened]. But it feels good, to be out here. He smiles, shoulders tight. It takes him a long time to step off the porch, but when he does, it feels like a weight has been lifted.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“You cooked?” Luke asks, a smile bright and wide and so, so happy taking up permanent residence on his face. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

“If you can call it that,” Leo replies easily, teasing. He fills two bowls with boxed macaroni and cheese, two glasses with red wine, and takes his seat at the table. It’s Luke’s favorite, like all time favorite, but he has no idea how Leo knows. He doesn’t want to risk asking him, so instead, he pulls off his jacket and throws it over the table, unbuttons a few buttons around his neck, and takes his seat across from Leo.

They talk easily, about Leo’s day, about a documentary Leo watched, about an art exhibit Luke walked past on his lunch, about nothing at all. But it's everything.

[hold-him-down]

POV! I feel like we talked about this the other day and there was a specific scene I said I would love to see from the other POV, but I don't remember what it was. Now it's your job to figure it out :)

response to this ask thing. the miracle here is that i think this is actually the scene that we briefly talked about this ask being in reference too.

notes: this scene in Leo's POV.

tw: anxiety, tears, panic, references to noncon, references to drugging

✥ You Didn't Do Anything Wrong - Leo POV ✥

As he lays his head in Luke’s lap, pressing himself as tightly as he can against the only person that remotely resembles safety in his life, he feels the blanket being draped over him.

Luke stands to get ice, or water, or– something, for his throat. Everything is blurry, and his skin is on fire, and when Luke returns, it takes every ounce of energy for Leo to sit back up.

The look in Luke’s eyes tells him all he needs to know. He looks as bad on the outside as he feels. He eyes a little cup of what he can only assume is medicine warily; he feels oddly detached from it all, tonight. He’ll take it, he thinks. If it means Luke will sit back down, and he can curl back up against him, he’ll do it. Maybe, if he’s lucky, it’ll make Luke proud. And maybe it’ll help soften the blow of what he has to say.

“I know you’ve taken a lot of medicine over the last couple days,” Luke says. He’s nervous, and Leo wants to tell him it’s okay. Before he can, Luke continues, “This is Lidocaine. It’s basic, over the counter stuff that will numb your throat, if you want it.” 

His can’t keep his hands from shaking as he takes the medicine, or as he takes the ice that Luke offers him next. 

“Give it a minute,” Luke whispers, and Leo wants him to know that it does feel better, but that more than the medicine or the ice, sitting next to him on the sofa knowing the worst is over, it’s a feeling he’s not familiar with. “You doing alright?” Luke asks as he sinks down next to him.

Leo nods. “I’m alright.”

“Okay. If you want to talk, we can. Or if you want to turn on the TV, or just sleep it off… whatever you need, Leo.” 

“Did you really call?” Leo asks suddenly. He doesn’t remember deciding to ask that, or even really wondering if it was true. It’s not his business if Luke called, and the social worker told him that enough times during his stay that he’d think he would have learned the lesson. Still, he holds his breath while he waits for the answer.

 “Literally every five minutes for the first few hours. They stopped answering, after a while. I spoke to everyone I could, but they wouldn’t really tell me anything, other than that you were doing fine.”

He nods, the familiar pang of tears threatening to spill if he speaks now. He takes a big breath, blinking back the tears, and takes a bite of the soup that’s waiting for him. It stings a little bit, but his stomach immediately loosens. 

“We have six months to figure it out for next time. I don’t know what to do with that, but I’ll… I’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t… know that you’ll be able to do… Overhauling the whole… the whole system, is…” A hopeless endeavor. Too much for any single person to take on. Too much for Luke to take on.

“I know,” Luke says. “I just… I’m not sure that we can go through this fucking process again. So, I’ll just… raise holy hell, you know? Do whatever I can to keep you out of there. Even if they didn’t… hurt you this time, something about that site–”

He knows. He knows, or he suspects, at least. Rob didn’t tell him, but he’s not stupid. He knows that they hurt him, and a wave of panic crashes down on Leo, but there’s… There’s relief there, too. 

“I–” Leo whispers. His hands shake as he takes another piece of ice. “I need to t– I need to tell you,” he says, closing his eyes. He’s hovering over the edge, grounded to reality only by Luke’s eyes boring into his, concerned and open and ready to hear what he has to say. Luke doesn’t deserve this, and shouldn’t have to hear it. No buyer should have to hear it. “I’m sorry,” Leo whispers, his voice breaking over the words. He means them, with every piece of himself.

“You don’t have to be,” Luke replies. “If they hurt you, Leo–” 

Leo doesn’t register Luke’s words as the barely-controlled tears immediately spill over. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, sucking in a shaky breath. It’s Luke. It’s only Luke, and he doesn’t have to tell him anything. Luke won’t press him, and Luke won’t be upset, and Luke will hold him. Luke won’t hurt him.

“They do… whatever they want… at the sites. All of them, there’s no… none of them are different. This time it was a– it was a handler.” His words pour out, waves of pain coloring his tone. Memories flash, vividly colored with pain and confusion and sadness, and the words spill out, not because he feels like he has to tell Luke. There’s some carnal instinct, buried so deeply inside of him that he didn’t even know it existed, pushing the words out. “I m–made a mistake in the– in the cafeteria, and he…” Leo’s fingers move to his neck, covering his throat.

“It was just the o-one handler, though,” he whispers. His breaths come in shallow spurts, and he sets the glass of ice down on the table, barely keeping it upright. He covers his mouth with his hand, as the panic starts to settle in. He curls in on himself, the silent tears shifting to open cries. “It w-wasn’t so b-bad. I think he ju– I think he just went a little rough, so Rob said my th– my throat is going be sore for a little bit.” 

It's okay. It’s Luke. It’s Luke. It’s Luke. His chest feels so tight, and every breath hurts, and every memory, every handler from the last five years, flashes through his mind. Help me, he wants to say. Help me.

As if he heard the plea, he whispers, “Okay,” pulling him into his arms as Leo’s cries turn to full-body sobs. 

“I’m so– I’m so s–sorry. I couldn’t… I’m sorry.” Fingers wind into his hair and Leo holds onto that feeling, and he sobs and he sobs and he sobs. He can hear Luke talking distantly, but he can’t hear what he’s saying. 

And eventually, with Luke’s arms tight around him, the pain eases. It eases enough for him to fill his lungs, but Luke doesn’t let him go. Luke is still holding him when the fresh memories of the handlers fade a little bit, and keeps his grip tight still as the fractures in Leo’s mind start repairing themselves.

He’s safe. He’s safe for now, and Luke will do everything can to make sure he stays safe. Luke won’t return him to the DLS, and he won’t hurt him, and he won’t let anyone else hurt him. His sobs shift to something less, and Luke lets up his grip enough for Leo to lay his head in his lap, curling up tightly against him.

He’s never told a soul about the things that happened to him behind those doors. Never a social worker, never a doctor, never a buyer. It means something, though, he thinks. It means something, that he told Luke. And he’s got the next six months to figure out what.

[hold-him-down]

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

Anything :) just have fun

response to this ask thing

notes: this is kind of serious in tone, i wouldn't say i had fun. just some backstory.

tw: prison setting, institutionalized slavery setting

✥ ✥ ✥ 

Malik Evans closed his eyes as the verdict was read. Guilty. Guilty. His stomach dropped and he wrapped his arms around himself. It never wasn’t going to end this way. He’d been told as much while he awaited trial. Many times over. The system needed fed, the country needed workers.

He thought of his wife, in those moments leading up to the sentencing. He thought of his son, just shy of his first birthday, in the moments after.

He didn’t get an opportunity to see either of them as he was ushered out of the courtroom and into a waiting car. He wondered idly if they would bring him straight to an intake facility. The actual activities that took place behind those walls were kept under lock and key, but it was something that every adult in his neighborhood had a healthy fear of. He didn’t have it in him to be afraid now, though. At least not for his own future.

They drove through a line of protestors and he scanned them, tears in his eyes, hoping for one last glance at the people he loved the most. When he finally found her in the crowd, he tried to smile.

“Take care of him,” he whispered, and she nodded, as if she could hear him, even with an entire world between them. “Take care of our boy.”

Leo would never know him; would probably never know what happened to him. They had discussed it, in every visit, in every phone call. Raise him right. Give him love, and faith, and warmth. And get him the fuck out, as fast as she could.

[hold-him-down]

🗝 Leo... talk about your fav handler.

this ask game

"They're all–" he pauses, his jaw setting as he slows himself down, opting to choose his words carefully "–fine. We, um, workers, kind of cycled through them throughout the day. We would see a lot of faces for various reasons, and then every worker had a handler who... oversaw, our progress, I guess. At least in the initial training period. After that, there wasn't even really a guarantee that we'd wind up doing breaks in any specific facility, so it varied a little bit more.

He swallows, fingers tangling together and throat tight. "I had two, during my initial training period. They were both really difficult in their own ways. The first was kind of... blatantly brutal, and was eventually fired or relocated, I never found out which. The second was... on the surface, easier. But I think he had a more overt hand in my..." He takes a breath, closing his eyes. "In whatever they've done to me. But he was gentle, sometimes, and predictable, and he'd tell you he was fair.

"I haven't seen him since somewhere in the middle of West's contract. I think he used to seek me out, if I wound up at the facility he works at. But I haven't seen him in a while."

His voice is far off, and you watch the moment he shuts down, closes himself off, and smiles. "So that's that, I guess."

[hold-him-down]

if you’re following along on these prompt fills please keep in mind this is just one step above declaring ask box bankruptcy, and i make no promise of quality, it’s just a quick and dirty prompt fill month :):) 

[hold-him-down]

16 and 20 for Derek my boy!

this ask thing

16. When was the last time they cried?

“I cried a lot in the beginning. Every night, maybe. Somewhere along the line, a numbness took hold, and it stopped. I don’t think I cried... not in the way you mean it, at least, at all during the last few years. I didn’t know I was still capable of it. Until that first night in the hotel, with Jack. That was the last time I cried.” 

Derek’s expression was tight, his eyes distant. He nodded, punctuating the thought. “Assuming you’re referring to, like, sad crying. If you’re including screaming, or crying in pain, well. I guess that would change the answer.”

20. Do they scream when hurt, or hold it in?

“I uh–” Derek swallowed, his hand rubbing roughly against the back of his neck. “I usually tried to hold it in as much as I could. Sometimes it was clear that was the end goal, that they wanted me to scream. Sometimes it was so much easier to just give them what they wanted, and sometimes I tried to hold it in until I couldn’t anymore.”

[hold-him-down]

*clasps hands together and does not self reblog*

[hold-him-down]

HI THERE. I've been thinking of different ways a caretaker would have to help Leo/Derek since your ask. And I thought that if either of their hands were too shaky, they would need help steadying objects in their hold, or picking up objects that they've dropped.

Also getting dressed-

one of my favorite moments to DATE is after leo gets whipped, a “kind handler” has to help him eat soup cuz his hands are so shaky the soup keeps sliding off. i am NOT opposed to revisiting this with a caretaker or perhaps a different whumper, i love love love a shaky hands moment (this is actually why leo can’t play the piano currently).

and i see that also and would like to remind everyone that we have not seen luke reacting to the brand, and i am here for it. there’s at least one ‘help with an everyday task’ ask but there might be two, so maybe we can get ‘em all :):)

[hold-him-down]

new writing challenge: askgust. in which every day in the month of august i answer an old ask until my ask box is cleared 😂

[hold-him-down]

The infamous burned toast scene! I think I have three different ask requesting this scene, if they’re all from the same person, I need you to know that I love your love of burned toast and while I make no guarantees, I will try for it to be one of the askgust fills :)