#i have a very self indulgent fic to write now i fear

[wormsdyke]

its insane to me that a sub plot in community 2x10 mixology certification isn't annie's lesbian awakening. guest starring notable lesbian comedian tig notaro as the hot bartender annie spills her guts to about how she feels trapped in the identity she's constructed for herself to fulfill expectations and wishes she could become someone else, her true self (lesbian). like textually it would have made sense for them to kiss i mean

^ girl meeting someone who makes her feel safe enough to admit that maybe she wants to screw everything up if it means she could be free of the weight of her current self

^ girl confessing this to her best friend (troy) who she trusts because he is undergoing a very similar transformative period of his life (gay awakening)

[purpleph4se]

million dollar man

the wizard x reader

warnings | smut (sorry), fem!reader, soft dom!wizard, fingering, praise, age difference, he’s also definitely a bit of a pervert (i’m self indulgent ok)

a/n | last fic of the year so let me go out with a bang. yall i am so so obsessed with the wizard I've gone down the jeff goldblum pipeline i love him so much. he’s so lana del rey coded it’s kinda insane. so i decided to be the first person (?) to write smut for the fuckin wizard of oz (i cant believe i wrote this sentence) so to anyone who also enjoys the wizard who reads this you thank you so much! crossposted on my ao3

“sir! i have a message for you from madam morrible, i believe it's urgent!”

you were the wizard's own personal assistant. one of the very few people who saw who he truly was; an older, but still very handsome, man who operated the magical console that controlled the giant puppet used to control his subjects. in truth, he was very kind and gracious, even silly at times.

“oh! thank you, my dear.” he gracefully strolled over to you in his beautifully elaborate emerald suit and took the letter from your hands and slipped it into his coat pocket, he paused for a moment to look over you. you could feel his honey-colored eyes scanning your frame and felt your heart race, you shifted in place hoping he wouldn’t notice your nervousness. with his endless power, you guessed he already knew.

“it’s—it’s my pleasure, your ozness! is there anything else you require of me?” the wizard lets out a laugh, soft and elegant, just like him you thought. he grabs your hand, his large aged one completely envelops yours as he takes you to his control panel. your face flushes and your hand trembles in his, you pray he doesn’t notice. how embarrassing it would be if the wizard thought you were this easily swayed by just one touch. in actuality, he thought it was adorable.

“you’re still so formal with me hm? but dear, i do need you for just one thing, if you don’t mind that is?” he had this mischievous look in his eyes, his charming smile making the corners of his eyes wrinkle, you couldn’t help the warmth rising more in your cheeks.

you nodded a bit too quickly for your own liking, “yes! um—of course, i don’t mind, sir!”

the wizard smiles, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter rapidly as he turns you to face the control panel as he stands behind you. even though you’re not facing him you tremble as you can feel how close he is to your back, the soft waft of his cologne and his breath upon the back of your neck. oh sweet oz, you felt yourself get impossibly warmer like you could combust at any moment.

“now dear, i just want your opinion on something,” he reached over you, turned, and pulled a few levers on the console, you heard the familiar creaking and mechanics of the puppet he controlled. “you see when i operate this thing, i just feel like there should be a way to hm, be more—how do i put this…less imposing?” the wizard rambles off about how he would like to still use the figure as he feels that his people need it but he doesn’t want to seem as feared anymore, especially in situations when it’s not needed.

you hang on every word, more focused on how his voice graced your ears, how the great and powerful wizard was asking you for advice, how you can feel his every movement behind you, and oh he felt so warm. you shudder as you feel him press his chest against your back as he reaches for a different lever, it seems that he noticed as he paused his ramblings for a second.

“are you alright, my dear?”

you gasp, stumbling over your words as you hear him quietly speak his concern over you. the wizard was worried he made his poor little assistant uncomfortable and he wouldn’t want that. but you eventually manage to tell him that you’re ok, hoping he doesn’t pull away from you.

he knows exactly what he’s doing, he's so keenly aware of what his magnificent presence does to others, especially you. he continues his ramblings, moving different levers and speaking softly into your ear. he knows the effect he has on you, but he revels in how easy it is to make flustered in particular, how cute you look trying to hide yourself reliving the warmth between your thighs.

you feel the wizard bring his large hand to your waist, and you try your hardest not to melt into his touch. but when he speaks in that low tone, his deep honied voice so close to your ear, you shake in his hold, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. you never would have thought the wizard would ever be this close to you. he has you right in the palm of his hand.

“you’re shaking sweetheart, if you want me to stop you just have to say the word.”

you pause for a moment, your breath leaving your lips shakily. this—this was wrong, you cared very deeply for the wizard maybe more than you should, and you were eternally grateful to work under him. your attention comes back to him as he teasingly squeezes your hips with his hand. he thought you were just too cute to not tease. your thighs press together again trying to relieve the evergrowing pool of heat.

“please—please don’t stop, your ozness—“

“i was hoping you would say that, dearest”

his hand glides over your uniform, and you feel him smile devilishly, even though you don’t dare turn your neck to check. “i’m quite fond of you, you know? you’re such a sweet little assistant and i think you deserve a reward no?” the wizard coos into your ear, his touches pressing insistently deeper, like he’s desperate to feel your skin under your clothes.

your head feels so fuzzy with the attention he’s giving you, you can’t think straight so you nod dumbly at his question. with the way he’s making you feel now, it could certainly be called a reward. people would die to be in your position. his hand trails downward, tugging at the hem of the green pencil skirt you decided to wear today. your heart nearly beats out of your chest.

“i just adore this skirt on you, dear, but it does get in the way of what i’m trying to do here,“ he chuckles, hes so close you can feel his chest rumbling when he laughs. you tremble in his grasp as he pulls your skirt up, exposing your clothed cunt to him and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. you knew this was wrong, but you ached for his touch. sweet oz what has gotten into you?

“shh—let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

you could feel your breath begin to quicken and the pulse between your legs grow stronger. this was not good. but you melt into him when he trails his hand up your thigh, pressing yourself closer to his chest. his hand climbs higher up your thigh, you feel him breathe out a laugh at your flustered state once his hand hovers over the heat between your legs.

“tell me you want this, my dear…”

he croons softly into your ear, he hasn’t even touched you yet and you are already blissed out. his facial hair brushes over your skin, tickling your neck as his lips graze the tender skin that lies just beneath your earlobe. you stammer indistinctly, pawing at his other arm now wrapped around your waist while your eyes train towards the ceiling. you felt dizzy.

the wizard's teeth scrape your skin, they sink into the curve of your throat. his elegant fingers press into your panties, stroking down the cloaked hood of your clit, rolling over the bud through thin, sticky cotton. your body jumps, chasing that feeling, and goosebumps rise on your skin as he begins to pull away.

“wait! i-i want it,” you plead, chasing the feeling of his hands with a strained whine. “please—your ozness” you were shocked at the desperation in your own voice. but sensing his lips curl into a smile against your neck you realized he reveled in it.

your hips bucked reaching for his touch again, he shifted just enough to push his fingertips beneath the elastic. he chuckled softly, "would’ve never thought a sweet thing like you would be so needy." he chided. he plunged his hand down and slipped it over your vulva, cupping and pressing against you.

your hips jolted at the pressure and a soft gasp escaped your lips. "is this what you wanted, dearest?" his deep voice was at your ear again, curling around your senses, filling your mind with heavy fog. barely able to make out a response for him you nod dumbly relishing in the pleasure the wizard gave you.

"hm?" a finger slipped down between your folds, "you’re so wet, sweetheart" he purred. his fingers slowly began to stroke down to your entrance and back up to circle your clit in a meticulous pattern. his fingers, wet with your slick, circled your clit just a touch faster. pleasure is coursing through you, as more little moans leave your lips, but you grow embarrassed at the noise coming out of you that you press your lips together.

“no, no we can’t have that honey, let me hear those pretty little noises, hm?”

and you couldn’t help but obey him. soft moans began to slip through your lips. "oh, you’re just so adorable." the wizard sighed. the tension in your limbs slowly melted away until you were a soft and pliant thing for him. pleas slurred off your tongue when he placed more pressure on your clit, stroking tight, precise patterns that had you dripping for him.

you moaned as his fingers moved down to pet at your wetness, two fingers brushing against your entrance but not pressing in. he pressed against your cunt firmly as your hips slowly began to grind down.

"yeah? you want my fingers to make you feel good, hm?" his fingertips probed your entrance, teasing you. a soft cry escaped you, your hips trembling in need. a flurry of pleas escaped you and the wizard shushed you gently, taking pity on your pathetic state. he took his time slipping his fingers inside and pressing them firmly against your walls as they squeezed around him.

"there you go, this is what you needed, hm?" he cooed, almost talking down to you. he began peppering delicate kisses over your ears and neck, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. “does me teasing you always get you this wet?” and you couldn’t help but admit to him, simply nodding. oh, and he just couldn’t help but indulge in your confession. you were nothing like the pretty young things he used to mess around with back in nebraska, you were full of pure devotion just for him.

"feels good doesn’t it?" he began curling his fingers just enough to stimulate your g-spot but not enough to send you keening into mindless pleasure. "or do you need more?" your mouth fell open as breathing became too much for you while you nodded furiously.

"yes—please—" you let your head tip back into him, your hands grabbing at the emerald-clad arm around your waist, a feeble attempt to ground yourself to reality, "sir—" you whined quietly.

your whine morphed into a cry as he curled up his experienced fingers finding that sweet spot of stimulation inside of you and positively abusing it. all you could do was whine and shake in his hands. "look at you," he muttered into your ear. "messy little thing aren’t you, sweetheart?" his fingers quickened in pace as his palm began nudging just right against your abandoned clit.

the wizard's words were lost to you, with your mouth hanging open ever so slightly you nodded and tried your best not to cum too quickly. the obscene sound of his fingers fucking into you and the sound of his palm slapping against your clit echo throughout the control room. that combined with your growing moans and his husky breathing was overloading your senses in the best way possible.

"i’ve been wanting to see you like this for a while," he purred, slowly pressing his palm against your clit a little harder. “since you started wearing these adorably tight skirts." he purposely pulled you tighter against him so you could feel him hard against your lower back, "you feel that? that’s all your fault, honey." his voice sounded strained, all you could sob was his name, begging him to take you right then and there.

the wizard chuckled at your state, and at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his fingers more and more. "that close already, hm?" he pulled away from your neck as your head turned to meet his hazel eyes, yours heavy and glazed as you nodded. "aw dearest," he cooed, "that won't do, i need to hear you” a whimper and buck of your hips was your response.

he tsked, "that won't do." his free hand came up to grab your face and held it there, looking into your eyes. "be good and say 'please' and i’ll let you finish all over my fingers." he had a stern but flushed look to him as he spoke, seeing the wizard flustered pulled your pleasure filled mind out of the haze for a moment of coherency.

"pl—please..." was all you could muster up as the edge he kept you on turned your pleasure into pain. he released your face, grinding his palm hard and slow against your clit. and you swore to oz you almost came right then and there as you cried out. "please—oh-p-please, your ozness let me finish—" you whined and squirmed in his arms as you tried to chase after your own pleasure to no avail.

he pressed his lips against your neck again and you felt him grin devilishly as his fingers pace picked back up. “such a good little assistant.” the wizard began fucking you again with just his two fingers, pulling embarrassing noises from your throat and each thrust of his soaked digits in your cunt. it was obscene the way you writhed in his hold, the way your hips humped into each pull and push of his hand. “so so good for me,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses against your throat, a stark contrast to how his fingers were moving inside of you.

each pass of his fingers over that sensitive patch inside of you produced the most delicious moans from your lips, and with every brush of his palm against your clit your legs shook more and more. “just like that honey,” his lips brushed against your ear. “i’m making you feel good, yeah? your sweet little cunt belongs to me.”

your body jerked with pleasure at the wizard's words, as his free hand pressed down holding you against him, “ah-h–your o-ozness” you cried out. he let out a soft groan against your neck at the way your hips involuntarily bucked with pleasure delightfully pressing against the tent in his pants.

“let go for me.” oh, the deep timbre of his voice had taken hold of your mind and pulled you deeper into a pleasure-filled stupor. you couldn’t think of anything but the pulsing of your walls around his long fingers. with a cry, his hands and voice alone he coaxed your climax out of you, his fingertips abusing your poor g-spot until you couldn’t take anymore. your thighs clamped around on his hand, while your hips jerked with each almost painful throb of your cunt around his fingers.

you could even feel your heartbeat in your now oversensitive clit, your hips involuntarily overstimulating you as they met each stroke of his fingers fucking into you. “oh—oh sir, wait—“ your voice shuddered as his hand slowed.

“pent up weren’t you?” the wizard cooed, retracting his fingers and tracing his thumb from your slick entrance and up to your clit and back down again. mindlessly running his fingers through your slit as you whined, trying to pull away from the overstimulation.

“sorry dearest, you’re just so adorable i couldn’t help myself,” he chuckles against your throat, finally pulling his fingers from your panties. his slick fingers coming up to slip past your lips, your tongue quickly sucking down your own juices, he couldn’t help but marvel at your need and he thought for a moment about how lucky he was to have you.

“honey, do you think you can help me with one more thing?” you’re reminded of his own need pressed against your lower back, and you were more than happy to help your wonderful wizard.

[vividxpages]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾ night terrors ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 3000

summary: you sleep over at Jace’s house, but the nightly anxiety haunting you in your own home follows.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, bad sleeping habits, paranoia, scelerophobia (fear of intruders at night or someone sneaking around at home), hopeful ending

a/n: surprise fic drop! This is very self-indulgent and probably niche, but writing it helped me and maybe you’ll enjoy it too <3

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾

Jace loved seeing her in his bed.

His dark eyes lingered on her, the way her shoulders sank into the pillows where he rested his head and dreamed of her. Her, always her.

She wore an oversized shirt tonight, one of his old ones that had stretched out over time and many laundry days. Her hair fell openly over her shoulders and he couldn’t help but admire her, an angel in the midst of his sheets and pillows.

His heart bloomed with love for her, brimming with the all-consuming fierceness of it, but it was dimmed tonight. Things had not been…good lately.

The day had been wonderful, a casual date night at home while they had cooked pasta together and watched a silly movie with his brothers. Her sweet laughter had echoed through the house when he had sung along the songs with the little twins and when they had been put to sleep, kisses had been exchanged between them, slow and sensual as his hand crept up her hoodie.

Everything was okay until it was time to get ready for bed and sleep.

Right now, he could see the worry and anxious thoughts all over her, consuming her as he put on an old sleeping shirt and closed the curtains of his bedroom. Jace watched her closely, literally seeing the wheels in her mind turning and turning, making her drift further away from the present moment.

He had thought it would help her if she stayed over at his place for the weekend and not at her own quiet one. A change of scenery where she felt safe and only ever had experienced good things in, but he had been mistaken. The pressing thoughts seemed to travel with her and no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Hey…” He spoke softly, making her look up from where she had played with the corner of the checkered blanket. “Ready for bed?”

She nodded hesitantly, scooting over as Jace slipped in beside her.

With a quiet sigh, she turned around, letting Jace come to lay at her back, spooning her until they were touching everywhere. Warmth rose underneath the blankets and Jace hummed happily in his chest as she laced their fingers together and kissed his wrist.

But Jace could feel it instantly, he knew her all too well. She wasn’t relaxed at all.

“Have you locked the front door?” She asked quietly, her voice a hushed whisper in the dark.

Jace tightened his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face into her neck as he took a deep breath with her. “Yes. We did it together earlier, remember?”

He felt her nod, almost ending up with a few strands of her soft hair in his mouth, not that he would’ve cared. “And the windows downstairs? Have you put something in front of them?” In her own home, after the incident, a drying rack always blocked the window sill in her living room, simply because it felt like a barricade to her, insurmountable at least in theory.

“I did.” His hands brushed slowly over her side, his lips brushing over her temple close to his nose. “When my parents get home later tonight, dad will go check again too, okay?”

“Okay…” She mumbled, snuggling her back into Jace’s front and concentrating on his steady breathing, the way his chest moved almost like a sweet lullaby sounded. Perhaps this was all she had needed, to feel close to someone she felt safe with, to chase the night terrors away?

“I promise you’re safe here, baby.” Jace said once again and he might’ve imagined it for a moment, but he could’ve sworn her shoulders relaxed a little, a little whoosh of air leaving her chest as she yawned. “I wouldn’t let the twins sleep in their own room down the hallway if we weren’t, okay? Remember in summer, when we slept in the garden by the pool? The doors were open then, nothing happened. And now in winter, nothing is going to happen as well. You’re with me. We are safe.”

She had told him that it wasn’t just about her, so he made sure to speak of himself, too. She feared a situation where he’d be in danger too and she was forced to watch it unfold, helpless and without any defense as the last line of hers – Jace – broke.

Jace listened to her breathing for a while, his hands not stopping to caress her body against his, the movements and patterns of his fingertips nothing but innocent.

“Can I turn the light off now, love?” He asked without any pressure or impatience in him. Hell, if it made her feel better, the lamp could burn all night long.

“Yeah…”

Jace carefully reached over her, flipping off the switch. Now, only the small lights from his mother’s garden shone in and he was quick to pull her close to him again, his hand protectively splaying on her stomach as she rested her head on his bicep.

“I love you…sleep well, baby.”

“Love you…” came her tired reply, the couple settling underneath the covers.

When she didn’t stir for a few minutes, Jace counted it as a good sign. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and although she couldn’t see it, he kept watching her, noting how her eyes drooped again and again until they stayed close for quite a while.

He let out a small sigh, hoping it’d be an easy night on her. Jace let his head sink into the pillow they shared and closed his own eyes…

Suddenly, just as he thought she finally had fallen asleep and he was on a good way of getting there too, she startled, nearly elbowing him in the face in her hurry to turn on the light on his nightstand. Jace blinked against the sudden brightness, met with her panicked features as she looked around his room, breathing heavily and wide-eyed.

“What is it?” He asked, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. You’re not alone, I’m here.

“I thought…” She looked at him, shaking her head as she took in her surroundings. “I thought I heard breathing. And- someone moving around in here.”

They both looked into the room. By the window, her bag stood on Jace’s desk chair, the grey sweater he had worn earlier hanging over it. Next to the bed; a big bookshelf filled with trophies from school and books he had kept from his childhood, a few figurines carelessly placed on the top shelves.

Of course, no one was there.

Jace gently tugged her forward until she wasn’t perched on the edge of the mattress anymore. She let him put the blanket over her again, although the tormented shimmer in her eyes remained as she looked around the room as if she slowly began to think herself crazy.

“It’s okay, no one is here.” He told her again, raising her clammy hand to his lips and kissing it. “Maybe you even heard me or your own breathing, nothing dangerous.”

When she still didn’t look at him, Jace leaned on his elbow and reached out, softly cupping her cheek to make her look at him. He hated this so much for her and wished he could simply free her of this anxiety. “Will you come to bed again, baby? ‘m cold without you…”

Her gaze softened and she exhaled breathily, sliding back underneath the covers and burying her face in his chest. He exhaled deeply, relishing the way she sought comfort in him, although he despised the reason for it. Jace hugged her, letting their legs tangle together.

“Sorry…” She mumbled, her mouth moving against his collarbone. Before he could reply – there was nothing to be sorry for – she added hauntedly: “It’s just so dark…”

A sudden idea blossomed in his mind and the covers rustled as Jace sat up once more. She looked at him questioningly, her arms hugging Jace’s old green dragon plushie instead of him. His well-loved childhood companion was usually perched on the end of the bed, but his girl found a great comfort in keeping him near and his heart nearly melted at the innocent sight of her cuddling Vermax like this.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He said quietly, putting on some socks. “I’m just down the hallway, I’m getting something.” Jace did not leave until she gave her okay, but when he did, he quickly tiptoed down the hallway and into his twin brother’s bedroom.

The boys were fast asleep, the audiobook Jace had put on for them before kissing them goodnight earlier still playing in the background. He nearly tripped over Joffrey in his sleeping bag in the dark, but found what he was looking for to his feet.

He looked at his younger brothers one last time, before silently closing the door and hurrying back to her. Her head perked up as he entered the room, tilting to the side in question as Jace fumbled with the retrieved treasure behind his back.

“Voilà!” He placed a nightlight on his desk by the window. It was a cute dragon, glowing with soft dimmed light.

“See?” He proudly patted the dragon’s head, making her smile a little bit. “Like this, it won’t be so dark again. And from the outside, it looks like someone is awake in here.” The last time Jace had slept over at hers, a little light had to stay on in every room during the whole night, so no one outside could assume that there was no one there.

“It looks a little like Vermax.” She giggled, a tired sound. She played with the small ripples across the plushie’s back, sinking back into the pillows when Jace left the nightlight on and fell into bed with her. She brushed her hand through his curls, getting comfortable with her head on his chest this time. “…thank you, for understanding ‘n looking out for me.”

“Of course.” Jace cooed, his arm resting around her waist. “Let’s try to sleep, alright?”

“Mhm…”

It took slightly longer this time.

„Jace.“ She whispered into the space in front of her. Her small voice made his chest ache and instinctively, he pulled her closer against him, to show he was there and listening. She sounded so tired, still fighting the inevitable exhaustion clinging to her body, but not her mind. She was still wide awake with fear and nerves and tense all over, she nodded over to the big closet doors in front of his bed. “What if someone is in there?”

Anyone else might’ve snorted or called her ridiculous for such a thought.

But not him.

He knew of the way her mind sometimes made her believe things that weren’t true or even the tiniest bit realistic. There had been other moments lately where she had believed someone had sneaked into the house during the day and hid underneath Jace’s bed until it’d become night and everyone was asleep. A figure lurking behind closed curtains. Footsteps in the entrance hall downstairs that turned out to be Luke, searching for a midnight snack.

It was then, when he had startled awake and found the bed empty beside him – a shriek coming from downstairs where Luke and her had bumped into each other – he realized that something deeper was going on, something that plagued his sweet girl’s mind and terrified him because of it.

“Baby, I promise you no one’s in there.” Jace said quietly, his hand soothingly brushing through her hair. She was trembling even now, frozen in her fear of moving and provoking whatever shadows were clouding her bright mind. His other hand went to grab hers, circling the soft skin with his thumb, but she didn’t look convinced. No matter how assuring his words were in the moment, they were only words.

With a kiss to her cheek, Jace sat up, ignoring the way his tired body protested and made him want to crawl back underneath the warm covers again. “Would it help you if I went to check?”

She looked so small under the blankets, her hands clinging to the comforter as she gnawed at her lip. Jace reached out, gently touching her bottom lip with his thumb to make her stop. She leaned into his touch, gulping thickly before she admitted quietly: “Yes…”

Jace smiled reassuringly at her, although it pained him greatly to see her so anxious in his home. He knew it wasn’t something she could simply turn off, at least not for a while until those dark thoughts would eventually subside, but it worried him nevertheless. “I’ll go check, okay? I promise you, it’s alright. We’re safe here.”

Jace slid out of bed, feeling her gaze on his back as he walked over to his closet. The light on his nightstand bathed the scenery in warmth, but he already felt cold as he looked back to where she sat in bed, her arms coming to hug her legs as she watched him closely.

“It’s all good.” He said one more time, keeping eye contact with her as he grabbed the knob of the closet door. Slowly, so he wouldn’t accidently startle her, Jace opened the closet and brushed away a row of his shirts and jackets, revealing the back wall of the furniture. “See? No one is here, baby.”

He turned to look at her with a smile, but was met with a quiet and miserable sniffle.

Jace’s eyes widened as she tried to hide her face, wiping away flowing tears on her heated cheeks. The sobs she was choking back sounded painful and in an instant, he was by her side again, opening his arms and pulling her into his tight embrace.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He cooed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as her distress. He felt stupid; he should’ve seen this coming from miles away with her anxiety sky-high all night long. It was way past midnight now and there she was, still wide awake and terrified of the invisible. “Love, I didn’t mean to upset you like this, I’m sorry…”

She gave a sound of protest, shaking her head and looking at him with glassy eyes and a wobbling bottom lip. “No, you didn’t, it’s just…”

Jace rested his cheek on top of her head, soothingly stroking her back as he waited for her to gather her thoughts. She felt so tired in his arms, he had no idea how she had been holding up like this the whole time.

“I’m sorry…I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” She cried against him, her shoulders wrecked by powerless sobs. Exhaustion was all over her, he could feel it in the way she slumped against him, near boneless from the lack of sleep. “I’m s-so tired and every time I close my eyes, I’m scared, I can’t do this anymore…”

Jace’s eyes were glassy, his jaw tense as he continued to hold her, letting her cry away the stress that had been seeping off her for so long. Her sobs were heartbreaking to him as he gently shushed her and felt her hand claw at his shirt, having arrived at the very end of her nerves.

“You won’t feel like this forever.” He told her gently, cupping her cheek and looking deep into her eyes. “It might feel bad at this very moment, but tomorrow will look different. This fear will pass, I promise you, baby.”

“’m so exhausted” She whispered, wiping her tears away and leaning her head against his chest. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll try one more time, okay?” Jace nodded at her assuring. “Together. You must be so tired, love. You need the rest, hm?”

“Yeah…” She bit her lip as he fluffed the pillows for the two of them, looking guilty. “You didn’t get a lot of sleep because of me, too.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” He took Vermax and propped him up at her side, acting as if the green dragon was speaking to her: “No feeling guilty over things that aren’t your fault.”

Her mouth twitched as she softly patted the dragon’s head. “Okay, Vermax, I’ll try. Thank you, Jace…”

“I love you.” He told her and opened his arms for her one more time. A relieved exhale escaped his lips as she sank right into them, bedding her head on his chest as he wiped away the last remaining tears on her face. “It’s what I’m here for. I want you to feel safe at night. You’re not alone, okay? I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Okay.” She nodded, swallowing thickly as she threw her arm over his stomach with a little sigh. “I want to believe you, it’s just…hard sometimes. I love you. You help by simply being there.”

“And I’ll be with you all night, baby.” He kissed her temple, feeling the way she was in- and exhaled against him. “Hold on to me, okay? As tight as you can. I’m with you and I’m real. What worries that wonderful mind of yours is not.”

It didn’t take as long this time.

Jace was still playing with her hair when he finally felt her breath evening out, her hand in his going slack as her body gave itself over to a well-deserved oblivion.

Knowing she finally had found the sleep she needed to desperately, he drifted off as well.

The next morning, Jace woke first, his arms numb and still holding the girl he loved most.

He watched her silently, how the sunlight danced over her cheeks, little puffs of warm air escaping her parted lips and bouncing off his collarbones. In this moment, she looked peaceful, and Jace carefully kissed her on the forehead and took a deep breath as he heard the distant sounds of breakfast coming from the kitchen.

In her sleep, she let out a throaty little sound, pressing closer and seeking out the warmth and comfort of him.

They had made it through the night.

It was a new day.

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss @hattiewritesalot @chocotorta2027 @mckennah123 @still-jon-snow

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[simonsrileyhusband]

Hihi!! Is it okay if I requested Simon Riley trying to solve an argument with reader(gn, please) with sex (poor boy havs good intentions. It worked with previous partners!! Surely it would work now too?) but reader gets more upset instead because they feel like he’s just try a shut them up and he panics. Communication actually happens and things get actually resolved

Of course you don’t have to write this, it’s very self indulgent. I just feel disconnected from fics where conflict gets resolved with sex as I’m on the ace-spectrum

I hope you have a great day/evening, remember to always prioritise yourself!!

simon isnt used to being in a serious relationship, with someone that loves him more than they want him. so when he fucks up he does what he is used to do.

"come on lovie..." his voice is low against your ear and his hands try to lift up your shirt.

"go away simon." he is frozen in place when you shove him away and walk angrily to the bedroom. his heart is shattered, what would he do now? did he fuck up that bad? his mind is racing and his heart starts beating faster.

he takes his time to calm down and then goes to knock on the half opened door. "lovie... can we talk? please" he hears you hum softly and walks in, sitting down on the bed. "im so sorry darling... sorry for not listening to you, i wanna... i wanna know what should i do to make things better, please, let me make it better." he ks fidgeting with his hands, trying his hardest to not shake his legs.

you sit up besides him. "i dont like the way you try to make it up to me."

"noted."

"i want you to ask me, i want us to sit down and talk about it..."

"i get it... what did i do wrong?" he turns to you slowly. he listened to you talk and explain your feelings to him, his eyes always on you, a look of regret in his eyes. "im sorry lovie, i really am."

"i know si, i know." it was all you needed to say, you wrap your arms around him and he melts into you, the fear of losing you still pounding into his heart.

"i love you" he whispers repitedly, like a spell he is casting on you, so you never leave his side.

[amourcheol]

filmbro-zoned (teaser)

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

g e n r e : college! au, fluff, crack, suggestive

w o r d c o u n t : 1k for teaser (approx 20k words for full fic)

s u m m a r y : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slams his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

w a r n i n g s : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, mc is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual sex because im fearing god today, barbenheimer reference <3

p l a y l i s t : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : who would have thought i'd be writing a college au huh...alice will never let me live this down...also guys once again so sorry for constantly posting this hopefully i have found a way for the loophole...let us see if this teaser gets shown in the tags...

“WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON WOLF OF WALL STREET, AMERICAN PSYCHO, PULP FICTION…FIGHT CLUB, SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, SCARFACE…”

You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has an…interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

[eternally-frozen]

Peek-a-boo i.

Unreliable synopsis: How many masks can you stack on one face?

Author note: I return with nothing but a self-indulgent post that might or might not be connected to an old fic <3 On another note, send me an ask containing your interest for a drabble event if you want to see one

Warning: Dottore. Kidnap mention. Bro is a bit weird but it's okay, I love him. No beta because I will cry. Author is insane and the writing might be too

The room pulses with an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Crimson eyes, glossy and void of light, gaze through you. Two pale blue strands hang on either side of his face, one slightly longer than the other. The ends of which curl like an untamable wave. His shoulders are tense, and he seems absent while his body is present. 

The man in front of you is zoning out again. 

You’re unsure what goes on in the mind of your captor, but these moments are the ones you fear most. You never quite know which side of him appears when he wakes up from his stupor. 

Silence takes over the room. You don’t move, you don’t breathe. In this moment you are merely a spectator—the very thing he used to be in your life before he decided to take a more direct approach in the current experiment.

‘Dottore’ clutches the wooden frame of the chair in front of him. His knuckles turn white at the strength he uses but his expression remains blank and devoid of any emotion. 

And then as, quickly as it came, the moment passed. 

The eyebrows that were previously relaxed are pushed into an unforgiving frown. His lips are pursed, and he takes but a mere second to regain his awareness. 

“You.” he spits out.

It was reported to be the coldest winter in the past two decades when you first arrived in Snezhnaya. The first nights in the previously abandoned mansion had been insufferable. The walls are too thin, the sheets too light, and the doors too loose. Cold air creeps up from every corner, forcing you back into the arms of the person you despise most. 

“I thought you were exaggerating when you told me about the eternal winters of Snezhnaya.” You wrap your second blanket closer to your body. The side of your body is pressed against the decrepit sofa in a desperate attempt to cover your back from the air.

In direct contrast to you, Zandik sits comfortably with his legs crossed on the sofa across from you. He is wearing a chunky, cable-knit sweater in a deep navy blue colour. The crisp, white button-up shirt underneath compliments the otherwise darker colour. The collar is neatly pressed and peeks out from the sweater. 

Paired with the sweater, he wears a pair of slim-fitted trousers in a dark shade of grey. These, too, are neatly pressed and fall just above his polished black shoes. 

He had dressed this way on the rainier days in Sumeru. It sparks a sense of nostalgia when you look at him now. The outfit is a nearly identical replica of the clothes he wore during your first interactions in the Akademiya. The only thing that falls short is the incertitude and cold look on his face. 

He shifts in his position on the sofa, uncrossing his legs, and then crossing them again. He scoffs at your attempt at a conversation opener. “Surely you can’t expect to blame me for your lack of knowledge regarding the environmental habitats of Snezhnaya.”

“Part of you is to blame. I don’t recall you ever giving me the time to research it. Nor did you warn me about your decision to kidnap me.”

He is silent after that. 

The truth should hurt. Given the way he acted during the last days of being at the Akademiya and the way he carried himself during your travels, you expected asperity—anything but silence.

A shiver falls over you again, and you curl yourself up tighter. 

Your eyes fall upon the Zandik in front of you. It might be wishful thinking, but a spark of recognition, a small light, seems to have returned in his eyes. He feels less distant. Sure, he is far from the boy you first met, but you can’t deny that he seems softer.

It’s strange how abruptly he can change. Like the moon, he goes through phases where he comes off to be unwhole. Often, you don’t doubt he’s lost part of himself. In what? You’re not sure. But as soon as it comes, it passes, and he seems whole again. 

The tips of his fingers trace the fabric of the decaying sofa. His touch caressing what must be a mixture of dust and loose threads with the filling underneath being the sole foundation that keeps it from collapsing. 

You wonder how he came into possession of this large mansion, and why he had left it in the first place. You wonder why and how he ended up in the Akademiya. 

“I’m going to the library.” He says. 

Zandik stands up from the couch. The wall he had built between you and him stands as tall as he does. It towers over both of you, and you’re unsure whether this barrier protects or fails you. 

For the first time since he decided to sit in your company, his eyes find yours. There is a sense of urgency behind his next words. “Don’t follow me.”

You nod. The idea of following him has landed you in this situation. You long learnt that curiosity is what makes or breaks a man, and you’re not ready to gamble your life again to learn the secrets that Zandik hides.

Oblivion is bliss.

His footsteps echo through the bare room. Most of the furniture remains covered by linen cloths and aged by a layer of dust and untold history.

‘The library’. 

Oh, how you long to read.

To have the company of words instead of a man you've grown to despise.

[kt-the-lee]

No Longer Ruined - Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic (HuskerDust)

A/N hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic on this account, i used to write a fair bit on my old deactivated account but I stopped for a couple years so i’m a little bit rusty, but i just love these two so much that i simply HAD to write for them! (this was also really self-indulgent for me to write so i hope you enjoy AHHHHH)

inspired by this post by @duckymcdoorknob : “We interrupt our usual programming to bring forth Angel Dust who is terrified of being tickled (bc of Val) until Husk shows him that it doesn’t have to always be torturous.”

Lee!AngelDust, Ler!Husk

warnings: very brief mentions of Angel’s job (not very much detail but important context to the story), sad!Angel

Word count: 2,133

One thing about Angel Dust is that he HATED being tickled.

Well, that wasn’t a complete truth. It was his favourite thing in the world once upon a time, but then it got ruined by various jobs that Val made him undergo. And that did make him quite sad, he wished he could have it in his life again, but he feared it was associated with one too many bad memories at this point.

And now, the thought of it terrified him.

This was made all too apparent when Charlie (the resident tickle monster of the Hazbin Hotel) decided to attack Vaggie in the middle of the lobby one afternoon. This was a regular occurrence, and everyone usually watched fondly as the usually stoic Vaggie let herself laugh (that is until the tables turned and Charlie then gets absolutely destroyed, she may initiate most tickle fights but usually ends up spectacularly losing them!). However, this was the first time Angel had witnessed this spectacle.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to watch.

The laughs mixed with screams, the squirming, the panicked breathing, it just sent him to a dark place. Where the masses chuckled and cooed at the girlfriends’ antics, Angel felt his breathing hitch and an unpleasant anxiety building in his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to inconspicuously leave the room, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

“Hey, what’s up, you okay?”

Angel turned around and saw Husk, head tilted, a concerned look on his face. Panic shot through him; “oh shit, did everyone notice me leave? That must’ve looked REALLY fucking weird, how am I going to explain-”

“Relax, nobody else saw you go,” Husk said gently, sitting on a nearby couch and directed Angel to take the place next to him. “Everyone was far too distracted watching those dumbasses wreck each other, although it’s a frequent occurrence it does never get boring!” he chuckled as the laughter from the lobby turned up a notch, but then frowned when he saw Angel visibly flinch at the sound.

“I’ve… never seen ‘em do this before,” he explained as he took the seat next to Husk, tensing up slightly as a paw was placed around his shoulders but immediately relaxed. He trusted Husk, perhaps more than anyone in this godforesaken place. But could he explain this?

Husk looked at the spider with concern in his eyes. He was triggered, clearly, but he couldn’t quite piece together why the girls tickling each other had caused this.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Angel? We don’t gotta, but you know I’d never judge you for anything. We’re both losers, don’t ya forget that, so nothing is off-limits.”

Angel looked up at the cat, debating for a full minute as to whether he was going to indulge. However, as he heard Charlie squeal from the room over from them and physically had to hide his head in his hands, he figured an explanation was desrved.

“I… just…” he stuttered, trying to find the words. “They’ve been ruined for me.”

Husk looked slightly confused. “What have? Tickles?”

“Yeah… there was a week-long shoot a few years back, and it always got taken too far. Lotta ignoring of safewords and not stopping even though I begged and begged and begged, my body felt like it was going to shut down-“ Angel shuddered as he remembered. “I’ve done a lot of weird shit for this job, Husk, ya know? And you know I love to relinquish control. But this, by far, was the one time I felt the most trapped and suffocated.”

The usually stoic Husk felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. Sure, tickling was torturous, that was the POINT. But it was also supposed to have an aspect of fun and trust and love behind it, and the fact that Val had taken that from him made him both upset and absolutely fuming.

“Fuck me, that’s intense.” Husk couldn’t find the words for awhile. “And also fully understandable as to why you’d be triggered now.”

A scream and a giggly “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEERE” from Charlie in the other room made Angel tense somehow harder than he was before, and Husk tightened his hold around his shoulders.

“If it’s any reassurance, the girls’ dumba ass tickle fights are nothing like that, there’s a lot of silliness and love behind it and it would never ever get taken that far” said Husk, trying to reassure the spider. “Infact, I’m fairly sure they both love every second of it, no matter how much they protest in the moment.”

“Oh I know that, really I do.” said Angel. “ I know what they’re MEANT to be like, it’s like I said, they were ruined for me.”

Oh?

So that meant…

“You used to like being tickled?” Husk enquired, a slight grin in his voice as he enjoyed the thought of his sweet spider enjoying something so silly. That thought was fleeting as he realised how that was no longer true because of his job, and Val. God. the things he could do to that bastard for breaking Angel like this…

Angel nodded, cheeks burning slightly. “A whole lot, used to ask Cherry for it all the time. But I fear I’m too far gone now, I’m too scared it’ll go too far and people won’t stop.” Angel sighed, and flinched again as the laughter somehow got EVEN LOUDER through the walls (what on EARTH was Vaggie doing to Charlie?). “I want to like it again, I do think about it a lot still.”

“We can try now, if you like?”

Husk looked into Angel’s eyes to gauge his reaction. He couldn’t tell by that one sentence if he had just put the fear of god into him, or hit the nail on the head with exactly the best way to fix this.

Angel couldn’t tell, either. On the one hand, the thought of being tickled again terrified him. He had managed to avoid it as much as he could outside of work, and even in work he would try and steer the content towards other things. However, he knew deep down that he wanted this back in his life. He trusted Husk, so maybe this would be the perfect way to ease back into it? He deliberated, and made his decision.

“Yeah… okay.”

Husk breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, and felt the grin returning to his face as he figured out the best way to do this.

“Anything I should know before we try this out? Now is the time for boundaries, my little spider-” said Husk, a teasing tone already etched into his voice which made Angel chuckle and roll his eyes.

“Stop when I tell you to-“

“That’s a given, dumbass, I was gonna do that anyway.”

That made Angel relax, he wasn’t used to people listening to his pleas. Maybe this would actually be okay…

“Oh… okay! Uhhhh, no foot stuff please, that was always Val’s… yeah. Favourite. So that’d probably send me into a panic.”

He thought for a second.

“Otherwise…. youregoodtogo-“ he mumbled as he buried his face in Husk’s chest, preparing himself. Oh god, what if this was a bad idea? What if he just hated it no matter what? What if he yelled at or hurt Husk? What if-

All thoughts in his head were silenced as the paw that was placed on his shoulder began to walk ever-so-gently around his bicep. Husk traced his entire upper arm slowly and delicately, before moving all the way round to where Angel’s underarm met his ribcage.

“This okay?”

Angel could only nod, a trace of a smile forming on his lips as Husk began to lightly scritch the spot. Nothing too intense, nothing that would overhelm him. But it couldn’t be ignored.

Husk felt the spider tense up below him as he used one claw to dance lazy, gentle circles around Angel’s ribcage. He glanced down to make sure he was okay, but it seemed to be more of a tickly flinch than an uncomfortable jerk away, so he persisted, adding more claws to slowly intensify the sensation.

It was then that he heard it.

The giggles.

And it was just the sweetest sound Husk had ever heard.

In fact, he got so distracted by the sound of Angel’s giggles that he subconsciously stopped tickling him to listen. Which, of course, stopped the giggles.

“Hey, ya didn’t need to stop!” said Angel, surprising himself.

“Oh I know… I just got distracted by something” chuckled Husk, beginning the movement of his claws again, as slow and as gentle as before. Angel tensed and giggled again, but didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

Angel had missed this. He had missed being in a safe place where he was free to be held and just let someone dote on him for a bit. Head empty, no control, no expectations, to just relax and feel happy. He couldn’t help his arm flinching against Husks gentle tickles around his ribcage, but he also noticeably lent into both Husk himself and his paws on his ribs.

Husk took this positive body language and gentle giggles to turn it up a notch, scratching with slightly more intent and pressure, making wigging motions with his paw. He also walked his fingers down from Angel’s ribcage to the sides of his stomach.

The spider’s gentle giggles quickly became slightly louder laughs as Husk did this, and initially felt a zap of panic. However, it was impossible to feel unsafe in the arms of the cat, so he let himself feel the sensations. It wasn’t TOO intense, but it was certainly enough for him to squirm and cackle, especially when Husk added a second paw to mirror his actions on the opposite side at the same time.

“Hehehehehey!!” laughed Angel. “Thahahahat was uncahahahahalled for!!”

“Oh was it now?” teased Husk, feeling a little more confident that he wouldn’t end up overwhelming Angel at this point. “Because I don’t hear you protesting, baby. Infact, I’d probably say you’re having a pretty swell time right now!”

“Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup” protested Angel, cheeks burning redder than the skies of Hell itself. “Teheheheasing mahahahahakes it wOHOHOHORSE-“

Upon the last word of his sentence, Husk moved both of his tickling paws to the front of his stomach, spidering the spider’s belly like there was no tomorrow. Angel SQUEALED, throwing his head back into Husk’s shoulder as he tried and failed to whine about quite how mean he was being right now.

Despite this, there was one thing that Angel couldn’t deny. Fucking hell, he could never deny how much he’d missed this. To be able to enjoy being tickled again without the fear of boundaries being disrespected and his every part of his body panicking as strangers took advantage of him, under Val’s perverted instruction.

“You doing okay down there?!” Husk chuckled, checking in as Angel arched his back and fell backwards onto the couch. Husk had one paw kneading into an armpit whilst the other made various shapes into his tummy. This seemed to be a killer combination as Angel snorted in his cackles and basically folded his body in half.

The cat slowed his attack to let Angel catch his breath, which may have been perfect timing as the spider managed to breathe out a “Stohohop nohohoho mohohore” through his depleting giggles. This made Husk briefly panic, thinking he had took it too far and this had all been for nothing. But the persistent grin and sniling eyes of Angel reassured him that he hadn’t put a foot wrong. Or, rather, a paw wrong.

“Thahahahat was fun” said Angel, residual giggles still pouring from his mouth as he sat himself up, rubbing the leftover tickly feelings away from his torso. “Might take a few goes and a bit of practice, but it certainly is an improvement to fifteen minutes ago!”

Husk felt his heart melt as Angel cuddled back into him and, as the room silenced, the laughter from Charlie and Vaggie’s ordeal STILL could be heard through the walls. However, now it made Angel smile fondly as opposed to being terrified for his life.

“How are they STILL going?” pondered Husk, shaking his head fondly at the sounds from the other room

Angel shrugged, and laughed as he heard Charlie let out a noise not too dissimilar to a squeal that he himself had produced moments earlier. “Shall we go and observe?”

Husk grinned and nodded, tweaking Angel’s side before taking his hand. Angel flinched and tutted at the cat, but couldnt hide the endearing look in his eyes as they ventured back into the lobby to observe the girlfriends tickle fight.

It certainly was a happy day in Hell.

[boywithpinkcarnation]

tbh kinda wanting some jealous!jb like if someone is filtering w her gf OR ESPECIALLY IF IT WAS A ANOTHER GIRL AHH THE DRAMA ��️🕳️

alrighty... i am in no way a writer, so this is. going to be bullet point, blurb, word vomit, unedited chaos. additionally, this is gonna be so incredibly self indulgent and catered to me so i hope it suffices for u bug 💝

frankly posting this is very scary for a little tumblr baby like myself, but i feel a need to serve my community 🫡

they style of writing and tbh most headcannons/lore is coming straight from @gingerjolover their blog is lowkey bible and they are the sweetest pookie pie ever. luv u g fr <3 like seriously i recommend you go just read through their masterlist bc this will not compare (not trying to fish here, just being very real as someone who is a like fein for fics as a source of comfort, i fear this will not fully suffice)

rpf content under the cut (no hate if that's not ur jam, just ignore me!), minors dni!!!

refering to jb's parter in this as "gf" and sense i am a selfish selfish girl in this scenerio she is roughly jb's height/a little shorter bc i am and theres no shorter than julien rep ANYWHERE

personally, i see julien as lowkey so possessive in a cutie non toxic way... and sometimes that manifests in some cutie jeleousy that gf can not get enough of. i think it obviously would come out in like flirty enviornments like bars and parties where people are loosey goosey... but sometimes it's just like and about on a normal date. here's a little thought i cooked up for like a more domestic environment jealousy:

aquairum date

the date starts out very normal, classic boyfriend!julien activities are happening

she's making sure y'all are touching at all times. like she'll die if you guys are not physically connected

i'm talking arm around your shoulder, iron grip within intertwined hands, hand in ur jean pocket 16 candles style, hand on the small of your back,,,, but i think eventually (and her favorite, albeit a little awkward) she's hugging you from behind as you walk, almost hanging on you, head perfectly slotted on your shoulder kissing your head and neck at every stop to look at the pretty fish

"jay! look at this one" "real pretty princess" *kisses your head* (its over i can'tttt)

then maybe she leaves you to go get you like a bottle of water or a jacket from the car (idk something to make you more comfortable, very "can't have my baby thirsty/cold" vibes)

then of course, you are looking so cute and so gay, a girl approaches you

you are very focused on the fish bc they are truly just so pretty (can you tell i love fish?) and only look up when mystery girl nudges you

"omg i'm so sorry" "oh uh, you're good" "sorry, i have a bit of a habit for running into pretty girls"

and your're kinda caught off guard bc like... this is an aquarium??

"haha um thank you" "so what are you doing here all alone"

mystery girl is sooo fuck boy coded just go with it

"well um my girlfr-"

julien is back behind you, re koala latching twisting open the water bottle for you and handing it to you, GLARING at this girl

"sorry it took me a second princess, who's this?"

then her grip tightens pulling you even closer to her chest

mystery girl, bless her heart, replies "we just bumped into each other. i was just letting her know how beautiful she was"

oh jb did not like that

she reaches over grabs your jaw tilting your head to the side and back to look at her

"she is beautiful. my sweet girl" and kisses you DEEPLY

and ur blushing because you know jealous/protective/possesive!julien is in the room with us now and kind of giggle out of the kiss

"well then... i should be going, sorry again for running into you"

instead of letting you respond or responding herself jb keeps your face turned and starts kissing all over ur face as you giggle letting mystery girl to just shuffle away.

for the rest of the date she is SO overly affectionate

squeezing ur hips

keeping you so close

kissing your cheek and neck as you tell her about all the fish and animals

"really baby? that's so cool" "my little biologist" "ooo princess what about these?"

it's times like these julien wishes she wore lipstick to leave a mark on your face so everyone knows

she's probably taking you to the gift shop and buying you some random thing for fun because when she's jealous she doesn't take it out on you, she's secure with you and knows you aren't doing anything but being your pretty self

in fact it just makes her softer and more affectionate

when you finally let her drag you out she had you against the car kissing you lovingly and deeply and sets her forehead against yours

"i just love you so much. my sweet girl. my priincess"

"all yours j."

note from c: i hope this is at least semi ok? literally no editing or even proof reading, just love sick delusion.

[froggibus]

The Death of Peace of Mind - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader (reader uses female/she/her pronouns + has a pussy), Billy Loomis! Ghostface x f! reader (at the end), Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: after finding out your boyfriend is the masked killer who’s been plaguing Woodsboro, you only have one request—you want him to take out his darkest urges on you

CW: Dark content ahead!!! dubcon, knife play, blood play, bondage (use of handcuffs and blindfolds), Stu cuts reader, bloodloss, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (yk what im gonna say), creampie, Stu chases you with a knife, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mentions of a threesome, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

incredibly self indulgent fic of my favorite Ghostface & the idea of being railed by him <3 this is a bit darker than what I normally write lol, also very tempted to write about getting railed by both Billy & Stu now

update ish? self indulgent part 2 w both Stu and Billy here

————

The minute the phone rings, the blood rushes to your ears. The entire town of Woodsboro had been warned against answering calls from unknown numbers after what happened to Casey and Steve. You weren’t worried, though. 

Why fear the boogeyman when the boogeyman is the only person who makes you feel safe?

Stu always insisted on never letting you see the darker parts of him, on never sharing the weirder things he was interested in. He wanted to protect you from himself and the fucked up things he wanted to do to you. That all changed this morning when you stopped by his house to make sure he was awake in time for school, and saw the Ghostface mask in his closet. 

You had grabbed it and tossed it at him, forcing him to explain himself. 

The boy had stuttered over his words before he finally confessed: he was the one who had been killing people all around Woodsboro. Even more surprising than that was that he had a partner. Everyone, even the police, had only suspected one person was doing it. 

He mumbled countless apologies, begging you not to leave him and begging you not to tell anybody or else ‘he’ would be mad. In all of his grovelling, though, he never mentioned who his partner was. 

You cut him off. “Is this the dark stuff you didn’t want me to know about?”

He nodded slowly, tips of his ears burning red. 

“Stu, I’m not going to tell anyone,” his head snaps up at your words, eyes lighting up. “But I have one condition.”

“Anything.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip. “I want you to lose control. Do whatever you want to me, just let go. Don’t worry about whether I like it or not…just, show me those parts of you.”

“Y/n…”

“I mean it, Stu. Please?”

He’s reluctant to give in. He knows he would never hurt you, at least not severely, but the thought of showing you who he really is and what he wants to do makes him shiver. He doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like you do now. 

Still, he gives in. He tells you to go home and relax, and maybe stock up on first aid supplies.

The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills you with excitement. 

And now you’re sitting next to the ringing phone, knowing when you answer it that things will never be the same. 

You press the phone to the side of your face, the cold buttons raising goosebumps on your skin. “Hello?”

“Hello, y/n.” The voice on the other end is deep and raspy, so masculine it has you clenching your thighs together. 

“Who is this?”

Stu can’t help but smirk on the other end of the line. You’re playing the part of the innocent, dumb victim perfectly, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on. God, the things he wants to do to you. 

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” he responds. 

“I don’t think so.”

You lay down on your back on the couch, playing with your hair, with the collar of your shirt, anything to keep you focused on the man talking in your ear. 

“Come on,” he almost growls, “why don’t you tell me your name?”

You can’t help but giggle at the frustration in his voice. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You suck in a breath. Smooth, you think. If you were anyone else, if you actually thought there was a chance he would kill you, his words would make you freeze. But tonight, all they did was make you shiver in anticipation. 

You can feel your underwear soaking through with your arousal, your whole body warming. “L-looking at?”

Stu almost laughs at the way you nervously stutter. You sound so cute, so innocent…he really can’t wait to ruin you. He stifles his laughter from inside the closet. 

“You heard me,” he says. “Don’t you want to know where I’m hiding?”

“You’re…you’re inside?” 

A wave of fear washes over you. How had he gotten inside without you noticing? Is this how he had gotten to Casey, too? You hate how much it turns you on to think that he’s been here the whole time. 

“Take a guess, come find me.”

Stu watches through the crack in the door as you stand from the couch with that puzzled look on your face. You spin around, the phone still pressed to your ear. 

“What happens if I find you?”

Stu stays silent for a minute, watching you look around the living room to find him. Just as you get to the closet, your palm resting on the handle, he responds. 

“I get to see what your insides look like.”

He pushes the closet door open and shoves you against the wall. You squeak, letting the phone clatter to the ground. Stu grabs your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

His other hand reaches for the knife in his waistband, holding up at eye level so you can see it. Your heart speeds up, your arms shake, your knees threaten to buckle. 

He presses the knife at the centre of your collarbone, just above where your t-shirt begins. You can feel the sharp tip press into your skin, just enough to cause a bead of blood to roll down your chest. 

“The things I’m going to do to you,” he breathes. 

You almost call his name, but you know he’s not your boyfriend right now. You know he needs to let go, and part of that is to let go of himself, too. 

He drags the knife down, cutting into the fabric of your t-shirt. He applies just enough pressure to easily slide the fabric, but not enough to actually hurt you. Still, you can feel the cool metal on your bare skin and it causes you to whimper. 

Stu groans. You’re being so good for him, standing so still and just letting him do what he needs to do. He digs the knife into the soft fabric of your shorts, taking his time in slicing them down the middle. 

Both pieces of fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him. “I-I—” you’re not sure what you’re trying to say, but the words won’t come out regardless. 

“I-I-I,” he mocks, holding the blade against your throat. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

You whimper and kick against him, your knee grinding against the bulge in his robe. He drags the knife just above your collarbone. He presses in hard, hard enough to draw blood. 

The warm blood leaks down your chest, dripping down your stomach and your underwear. The slight sting makes you whine even more and rub your thighs together. 

He releases your hands. “Run,” he whispers. 

You don’t waste a second in obeying him. As soon as your feet are on the ground, you’re tearing away from him. You can hear him walking at a leisurely pace behind you, laughing mockingly. Something about him chasing you, cutting you…it’s overwhelming, it makes your head fuzzy with pleasure. 

You run up the stairs, turning away as soon as your feet meet the plush carpet of the landing. You turn around, only to see that he’s gone. You suck in a breath. Where could he have gone?

Arms wrap around your waist, a knife pressed into your side. “Got you.”

You squeal, kicking against him. He’s much stronger than you, though. He pushes you against the wall, using it as leverage to lift you up. 

You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. You squirm, your sheets staining with the blood that dripped down your body while you ran. 

You look up at him with those damned eyes, blinking slowly. His robe is stained with your blood, the knife in his hand slick with the red. 

He crawls on top of you, yanking your underwear off and tossing them into the corner of the room. Your pussy is soaked as it is, but your blood has started to run into the juices, and the smell is fucking intoxicating. 

He moves his face between your legs, the white mask looking up at you. You whimper and roll your hips against his face, staining the white with your red. 

He tears off a strip of fabric from his robe and ties it around your eyes. “No looking,” he orders. 

He tilts the mask up just enough so that his mouth and nose are out before licking up the blood from your thighs. You taste just as good as you smell, and it only makes him want more. He flicks his tongue across your opening and you whine, bucking your hips against his face. 

He goes to work licking and sucking at your clit. He’s drunk from the taste of you, and all he wants is more. He presses the knife against your thigh, digging it in hard enough to draw blood. The pain in your thigh mixed with the pleasure in your core has you crying out, forcing you over the edge. 

You finish hard, your slick coating his mouth and nose. He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

“P-please,” you whine. 

“Please what?”

“Stretch me out, ruin me, just…please?”

Your breathless begging is so fucking cute that he can’t hold back anymore. He pulls the mask over his face again, laying on top of you. He pulls out a pair of plain metal handcuffs, and gets to work securing them around your wrists. He does it tightly enough that it digs into the skin and makes it impossible to escape, but not tight enough to be painful. 

You struggle against the restraints, unable to see or feel him now. He shuffles against you awkwardly, pulling his cock out of his pants. He’s already rock hard, the tip coated in precum. 

He lines up the head at your entrance and shoves his way inside. He’s so perfectly sized, always stretching you out perfectly. You whine, instinctively going to reach out for him before remembering the restraints on your wrists. 

His thrusts are desperate and needy. All he wants, all he needs, is to bury himself inside of you. To fuck you like he needs to and absolutely ruin you. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter out, forcing your hips against his to meet his thrusts. 

His hands grip your waist tightly, his mouth hovering over your pulse point. He licks up the remaining blood from the cut on your collarbone, and the copper taste on his tongue only drives him to fuck you harder. 

The way you're so wet for him, just from him cutting and fucking you. Hovering above you, fucking you like it's the last time, he's never felt more content. It's like the darkest parts in you pacify the darkest parts in him, and that's all he's ever needed.

You can feel yourself getting close, your muscles contracting with every deep thrust. You feel slightly lightheaded, but you’re not sure if it’s from your last orgasm or the blood loss. 

Stu holds you closer, his body collapsing onto yours as his thrusts get sloppier. You know he won’t last much longer, either. 

You squirm, bucking your hips to try and get him as deep as possible. He hits that sweet spot one more time and you come undone, your muscles spasming around him. Your pussy clenches around his cock and that’s all he needs to spill hot cum deep inside of you. 

Your head rolls back, your body going limp. Stu pulls out, kneeling on top of you. “Think you can go another round?”

“C-can you?” You breathe heavily. 

He reaches his hands around the back of your head to remove the blindfold. It takes a minute for your eyes to focus, fixating on the masked man above you. 

“Not me,” he grabs your jaw in his hand and turns your head to the corner, where a man in an identical costume stands. “Him.”

“Him?”

The masked man steps forwards, slowly pulling the mask from his face. Billy Loomis is smiling at you like the devil, “hello, y/n.”

He pulls the mask back on, coming to rest on the bed next to Stu. Both of the Ghostface killers have their eyes fixated on your bound, writhing form on the bed. 

“I think she can do one more,” Stu says. 

“I think so too. I think she could take both of us.”

“B-both of you?” 

Neither boy acknowledges you, too busy talking as if you’re not laying right in front of them. God, they’re going to be the death of you. 

[chvoswxtch]

hi! could i request a fic where frank is helping reader with urges to relapse in s3lf h@rm? or maybe they already relapsed? if this is not something you’re comfortable writing please feel free to just ignore this :) i’m struggling w/ this lately so it’s just self indulgent for me lmao and your writing is ADDICTIVE. you have such a talent and i hope you’re doing well!! x

my sweet sweet sweet nonnie. I am sending you all the love I possibly can. I am so sorry that you are struggling. I know what it's like to struggle with this, and I promise you it does get better. I know everyone says that and sometimes those words can sound so hollow, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. it can't rain all the time darling 🖤

I hope you are doing well today, and I hope this brings you the comfort that you need. thank you for trusting me with this, and know that I love you and am so proud of you

just a quick psa to everyone on my frank taglist, because this is such a sensitive topic, i'm not tagging anyone in this one. if you are not comfortable with this topic or if it could be triggering for you, please sit this one out. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise.

warning: mentions of depression & self harm word count: 775

let it out.

Frank noticed everything. He was trained to look for subtle clues of threats everywhere, to anticipate them and quickly conjure a counterattack, or eliminate them before they even got a chance to strike. After that tragic day in Central Park, his sense of hypervigilance only became even more extreme. 

Which is why he knew that things were getting bad for you again.

He could see it. That bright sparkle in your eyes that could put the stars to shame grew more and more dim until it was nothing more than achromatic ash. The heaviness weighing down on your chest that turned the subconscious act of breathing into a relentless struggle and made your movements lethargic was like an astral presence only his eyes could detect. He could hear it in your voice, the melodic warmth replaced by an echoing numbness. It seemed as though each day another of your vibrant petals withered and fell until you were rendered a bare and hollow stem.

It killed Frank to see you like this. He wanted so badly to help, he just didn’t know how. You wouldn’t talk to him about it, wouldn’t tell him what you needed. But he didn’t get upset with you, because he figured you might not even know what you needed. He was growing increasingly worried because nothing he was doing seemed to help at all. Fear was an emotion Frank very rarely experienced, but he was terrified that he’d lose you to your own cruel mind. 

Things were bad right now, but it would pass. You’d fallen from the clouds of progression, backsliding until the cold hard impact of relapse bruised and rattled your bones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back up again. It didn’t erase all the breakthroughs in your recovery. And if you couldn’t make it back up on your own, Frank would carry you himself.

Frank sat with you in the bath, enveloping you in the comfort of his body and the hot water, hoping it would soothe you. Taking care of yourself had become as hard as getting out of bed, but it was okay. He could help you with that. He’d washed your hair, taking his time to massage your scalp before gently rinsing the shampoo out completely. His large and calloused hands slowly and tenderly lathered your skin in the suds of your body wash, not missing a single inch of you. 

Your face was as blank as a pure canvas, but there was raw sorrow in your eyes and agony building up along your lash line. Frank held onto you tightly, tracing your self-inflicted scars with the pad of his thumb, applying pressure with each stroke while he spoke quietly in your ear.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you ain’t gotta let it out that way. You can get the hurt out without hurtin’ yourself. You gotta feel it, sweetheart. I know you don’t wanna, I know it feels like it’s too much, but you can’t distract yourself with a different kinda pain. It ain’t gonna make this one go away.”

Frank knew you were listening. He could see the saltwater slipping down your cheeks, your expressionless face slowly morphing into a portrait of unrefined grief. He pressed his lips softly to each of your scars, holding you even tighter in a protective embrace.

“It’s gotta heal from the inside, baby. I know it’s hard, but you ain’t gotta do this alone. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just let go, I got you.”

He could tell that you were fighting it. That you were scared once you opened that door, a tidal wave of misery would devour you entirely and trap you beneath the current until you drowned, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. His deep voice was laced with sincerity and promise as he spoke into your ear again.

“I got you.”

The choked sob that caught in your throat broke his heart. The wail that tore from the depth of your soul was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Your shoulders shook from the impact of your overwhelming emotions, but when you shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, Frank was there to collect them all. He’d patiently help you put them all back together, no matter how long it took. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently rocking you as he soothingly ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a reverent kiss to the crown of your head.

“There ya go, that’s it. Let it all out, sweetheart. Take as long as ya need, I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let it all out.”

[cryptocism]

yoohoo, I just need you to know you've ruined my life✌️ /j but like. finished reading frequency, what three days ago now? and since the moment I put it down, I have been. directionless. listless. I am consumed by, not DESPAIR, because despair is too passionate a word but. dissatisfaction? I miss the life I lived while I was still reading it. which is honestly rather appropriate considering some of the themes in the fic. I miss the person I was when half of my mind existed in the realm of the au. I fear I may never get over it and I may never recover the life I once had before this fic ruined me for all others, but I also cannot bring myself to regret reading it even if I never feel satisfaction again. I have tasted ambrosia, and the bread and wine of men shall forever be ash upon my tongue. pay my therapy bill.

i know these asks were sent in july but i love them and want to immortalize before they get buried in my inbox

first of all thank you so much!!! frequency has been one of my favourite projects to do over the past couple years i love that ppl are so into this absurdly niche fic. (i cannot pay ur therapy u simply must reread it forever rip (i mean writing it was like 50/50 self-indulgence and catharsis which means maybe reading it does the same thing lmaoo))

second yes! yeah it was Six who changed the timeline. a big old theme, possibly the main theme, of the whole fic is about change and who gets to create it. Six mirrors Thad in the ways that he believes himself unworthy of importance, and that the capacity to create change is inherently barred from him because of who and what he is.

so it was really important that Six was the one to make the choice to try change things - the guy whos entire powerset relies on being as inconsequential as possible. it shatters the original timeline, it results in his death, it causes a lot of very bad ripple effects, but he also saves Nathaniel. who saves Jude. who together both save Thad - who saves Bart and CRAYDL and defeats Three and discovers his own capacity for change in the process.

that was sort of the point of the whole "the spectrum of change is a horizon, not a tower" litany. there's no hierarchy. anybody can go towards it, they just gotta choose where they're going.

Six doesn't really save the day, but by wrenching the prewritten tragedy off its course, he creates the opportunity for Thad & co. to save it themselves.

[zara-renata]

poly sylus caleb and mc 👀??? my brain is melting out of my ears omg that drabble had me squealing and kicking my feet and your tags……… omg i feel like i’ve just been awoken to something i hadn’t considered…… poly with mc sylus and caleb like yes that’s actually perfect

thank you so much for the kind words about the drabble! silly thoughts and personal hangups under the cut in answer to your question

i've been thinking about this question a lot lately, because a few people have mentioned an interest in poly fic from me recently. i always really love writing good-natured ribbing between the guys, and sylus is such a fun character to write for intentionally driving others up the wall. I honestly would love to be able to write poly mc sylus caleb someday, but i'm not poly myself. I know that i could do it as an intellectual exercise, could probably write something that makes sense for the characters, the right amount of angst and insecurity and also feel-good hurt/comfort with an ultimately happy ending. but my monogamous, insecure ass wouldn't be able to put my heart into it in the same way i do in my current fics. i write fic because it feels good to engage (and wallow) in self-indulgent hurt/comfort, to explore the characters' canon traits while having the freedom to play with an mc who is like an oc to me, who is both like the mc in game and like me (to varying extents). if I wrote poly, my instinct would be to center it around mc's insecurity that sylus and caleb would love each other more than mc. personally, there's something inherently othering to me in poly relationships, because in my life i have always found that if there are three people, someone is always left a little behind despite everyone's best intentions. it just hurts my heart, no matter how irrational that may be. i know that there are poly situations where that's not the case, and people can and do successfully navigate healthy, happy poly relationships, but i think other fic writers would do a much better job, and have more fun writing that relationship for these characters than i could.

and just as a canon note, @sichore has a great post about how out of all the LIs, Sylus would be the most open to a poly relationship, and I think she's absolutely right; I can see him being open to loving caleb like mc loves caleb, because mc is the other half of his soul, and what mc wants, sylus wants. and caleb has shaped mc so much in this life--- @minniestarmj has some lovely thoughts about sylus being able to see caleb's mannerisms, how alike they are, in mc after meeting caleb for the first time. i think sylus would also empathize with caleb's ruthless, cynical attitude about other people, his dehumanization of others while only caring about mc at the expense of the entire world. caleb, on the other hand, is so traumatized, has spent his entire life with his one anchor as mc, is so possessive and protective, i find it very hard to imagine him being anything other than monogamous. he's so fear-motivated, i think that in a poly relationship he'd always be afraid that mc loves sylus more than himself, that he's always on the edge of losing her. also, sylus's dangerous lifestyle, and what it exposes mc to on occasion, would give him an aneurysm. now, all of these would be awesome things to explore in the hands of a good writer who is excited about poly relationships, but i personally just want to wrap caleb up in a blanket and have mc reassure him at every anxious thought that mc loves him, and only him, always and forever... after mc gets over being furious at his big stupid baka self about playing dead for a year.

maybe i'll get over myself someday and be able to write it, but right now, i like thinking about these guys separately, and if they appear in each others' timelines, then their interactions will be good-natured even if slightly contentious/competitive because they all love mc, after all, and i'll probably always write a tinge of longing from the LI who isn't the main focus of the fic. but that's all i can promise right now. for now, i'm content to reblog well-written poly fic and ideas from other writers, and to write my sad little angsty takes on the LIs and MC the way they are portrayed in the game--slightly jealous nutcases, who still do everything in their power to try to center mc's wants and needs despite their own hangups.

[cecedownbad]

Hold On

Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 1.

Warnings: Death of a child, made up case, made up case numbers, abusive mother, absent father, no Y/N, there is a last name: Cyrus. Hurt/ Comfort. A two part fic, Spencer is a supportive friend here. Pretty much a whole episode of CM. Probable inaccurate science facts, not that great at writing mysteries, I think, don't mind the weird conclusions. Self indulgent in all it's glory (minus the fem part), my apologies. Proof read but I'm blind so lmk if there are bothersome errors.

Word Count: 4.7k

Based on very sad songs that I won't put up cause we deserve better. Binged all 16 seasons in 2 weeks, it was worth it.

Enjoy

"I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise."

-Anaïs Nin

"Mom, where's Steven?" A dark room, with nothing but a single bed, and a desk that contained one clock furnished the surroundings. The ticking of the clock resonated within you, each tick causing you to step forward to a door ajar, light seeping through it.

Not too bright, not too dark, moonlight streaming in through the cracks much like a distant scream in a faraway place. "Sweetie? Go back to bed, you have to go to school tomorrow." A still voice poured in, the voice echoed in almost engulfing you but your feet already brought you face to face with what caused all your nightmares. "Steven has not come back from his play time. Where is he, Mom?" Your voice is so soft yet embroidered in concern. "Steven is okay, go back to bed." The woman in front of you smiled, her smile was stretched. Her eyes harboured nothing as if you stared right into the abyss.

Yet, her face was...gone, her eyes were full, her smile, so impeccable but where was her face, why couldn't you remember?

"Oh my sweet girl, you look just like me." She beamed but you stood there confused, to which you backed away from the room and entered your bedroom.

Nothing was out of place, everything remained as it was, like that day, what day was it?

When your eyes took in the room you noticed a small juice box, the very same one Steven had drunk, right after he...wait, who was 'he'?

Then you heard her, "I told you to go to sleep, didn't I?" The anger that seethed from her caused nothing but fear to blanket you. She towered over you, whispering, "I took Steven to a better place."

That was when you knew, your little brother, was never coming back from his play time, he was never going to drink his favourite juice again. That was his fault, he just didn't listen to Mother. This is what happens to children who disobey.

You turned around and smiled at her, "Mother," you called out, "I'll be a good girl, I'll never disappoint you."

All the while you quivered, knowing that your little brother was gone for good, "Steven, I'll find you, I promise."

'I promise, Steven...'

'Who's Steven?'

Your eyes shot awake like you'd been shot with a bullet to your gut, 'Ugh, what?' The sudden rush of light filtered in, waking you from your short nap and making you rub and squint your eyes, then you felt how sticky your back had felt, the palms of your hands damp from sweat. 'You were calling out to someone just now, you said, "I'll find you, I promise, Steven" in your sleep.' Spencer questioned you, his eyes gathering that you showed signs of having a bad dream.

'Uh, nothing, it's nothing, just haven't got much sleep, is all.' You brush off the question, looking around, you get up from your seat, taking in that you were returning from a case in Wichita and the team was on the jet back to Quantico. You excused yourself to the bathroom, the size of it and the dim light were not ideal but you needed to freshen up.

Twisting the faucet, you let the water run and washed your face, the cold water woke you up right away. A sudden rush of relief had hit you, a sense of comfort knowing that your bad dream could not seep into reality, the safety of it was that you knew nothing could get to you when you were surrounded by the best agents you could ever meet.

It happened not too long ago when you were invited to join the BAU, thanks to a recommendation from the Criminal Investigation Division.

Grabbing a tissue from the dispenser by the sink, you wiped your hands and face, throwing the used tissue in the slot made for waste disposal right below the sink. A sigh sounded out of you, with one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straightened your clothes and walked out of the loo. 'How are you doing?' Spencer asked you as you sat in the seat before him, his right hand holding an open book, which you presume is written in Russian. 'Yeah, I just had a bad dream, nothing big.' You once again dismiss him.

It wasn't exactly an alarming thing to have a bad dream. On the contrary, you were accustomed to having nightmares and bad dreams but this one was different, recurring in all its forms. The sounds, the sights, were familiar but all the more terrifying, there wasn't a feeling so twisted as this one. 'I don't think it was just a bad dream, your breathing rate increased from the normal 12 to 18 breathes per minute to 25 to 30 in the three minutes after you woke up and you were sweating profusely. Are you sure you're okay?' He breathed out, his eyes already reading your every movement, catching how you twitched when he caught that you were not telling him the truth. 'Reid...thank you for worrying but I—'

'Alright, crime fighters, how's everyone doing, all tucked in?' Saved by the bell as it goes, Penelope popped up on the jet's screen, 'Yeah, can't wait to get some sleep.' JJ groaned.

'Uh about that, I'm really sorry for putting this on you guys, I know you guys are tired and I hate doing this right after a case and- I have some bad news.'

'What is it, Garcia?' Emily asked

'Okay so you have another case, it's a missing child case in Bakersfield, a 6 year old boy named Stephen Turner, last seen in his, oh this is so sad, in his room. A report was sent 12 minutes ago.' The name made you freeze, you could hear your heart beat quickening, the way it felt like it could run for miles was a pain you were sure you put behind. 'Garcia is that Steven or Stephen?'

'Oh I'm pretty sure it's Stephen, my love.'

'Okay, thanks...' it wasn't relief that washed over you, but the name carried a heavy weight.

'Bakersfield, California, Right?' Luke clarified. 'Yes newbie, I'll have the files sent to you immediately on your tablets and the rest should be at the local Police department there, Good luck guys!' Garcia signed off immediately after.

'Okay, we know the drill, we only have 24 hours or we'll be looking for a body. I'll inform the pilot to change course. When we land, JJ and Rossi go to the Turner house and speak with the parents. Reid go with them, we need to know how he was taken from his room. Luke and Tara, I want you to scout the neighborhood, maybe someone saw something.' She turned to face you, 'Cyrus, you'll be with me, we'll speak with the Chief there.' Emily gave everyone their designated tasks.

Everyone exchanged nods with their partners. You exchanged a glance with Emily, standing up from your seat, you chose to stand all the while till it was necessary to be seated when the jet landed.

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

'Chief Marks, this is SSA Cyrus, I'm Unit Chief Prentiss, What have we got so far on Stephen Turner?' She quickly shook hands with the PD Chief, You took it as a chance to observe the department, a missing child case gave you little time for formalities. 'So far, zilch, I have some of my officers posted around the neighbourhood, even questioned across the street, said they saw nothing.'

'My Agents are already there, let's hope they turn up with something new.' Emily informed the chief and led you both to an empty conference room, informing you that this was the only available room at such short notice. 'Chief Marks, would you mind bringing in prior missing child case reports, preferably going back 20 years.' You asked before he got the chance to leave, there was still one nagging question that you had to rule out.

Could your mother be involved? Or was it your paranoia getting the best of you? but a job was a job, if an MO matched with an old case, narrowing down suspects was a huge load off.

'Anything you need.' He answered in the affirmative after a pause.

'Something in mind?' Emily asked you.

'This is my hometown, I've read my fair share of missing child cases but if there's a chance one of them bares any similarities, we might be able to narrow down our search.' You explained, opening boxes of the gathered information on Stephen.

'Yes, I'm sorry I forgot, after the case maybe you can go see your folks?' The thought was so lighthearted but you had gulped in guilt at the words, 'No, we need to go back to the Academy...my folks and I aren't in good terms.'

'Oh, let me know if there's anything I can do?' She asked softly, which you smiled to in response, 'Of course.'

Emily was always a friend before a Unit Chief when she caught on to indications of a slight change in behaviour, it made it a whole lot easier to speak to her about things you wouldn't bother about with your old Unit Chief.

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

'What have you got so far?'

'Nothing solid, of the two stacks of cases brought in, 2/3ds hardly match the MO and, the remaining few, let's say it didn't end well for the kids.' You gritted your teeth at the last sentence.

JJ, Rossi and Spencer walked in right at that moment, 'What did you find?' Emily asked the three.

'There wasn't a sign of struggle in the room, it's likely the UnSub and Stephen knew each other or he could have been drugged, there was no sign of a break-in either but the spare key that was left under one of the plants was missing, UnSub definitely planned the kidnapping and was aware of the layout of the house.' Reid informed.

'Mom and Dad are worked up, said they didn't hear anything from the kids room upstairs, hasn't gotten into any fights at school or kids around the area or within the family.' Rossi states.

'Yeah, Joy, Stephen's mom, said he was well liked, got good grades, knew not to trust strangers,' JJ took a deep breath, 'He's a healthy 6 year old boy and apart from not being athletic, he's just one normal kid in a family of 4.'

'Wait, 4?' You stopped JJ.

'Yeah...he has an older—'

'Sister? Say 11 or 12?' You completed, the fear inside you built. 'Yes, 12, how, how did you know?'

That same empty feeling drained out of you, fear blanketed whatever memory you recalled from this place. 'Good guess, I think, is the family here I, uh, I want to speak with them, maybe the sister even.'

'I can ask them to come in but why?'

'I think she might know something or maybe even the UnSub.' You breathed, 'I'm gonna go out for some air, Emily?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Thanks.' You nod slowly and walk out of the conference room and out of the PD. You leaned back on the wall, sunlight barely visible due to it now being autumn, orange-tinted leaves lightly grazed the pavements. Passersby walking hand in hand or holding on to a warm drink. It's a pleasant scene for the beginning of the most painful nightmares.

'...Steven.'

'You said his name again.'

'Ah! Jeez, Reid! You scared the crap out of me, don't do that again!' Stepping back you raised your hands ahead of you in defense.

'Sorry, I brought you coffee.' He offered.

'Thank you, what are you doing? Out here, I mean.'

'I know it's a little bit of an unspoken rule that we don't profile on the team but-'

'But, you profiled me,' you sighed, this was expected, you knew he was only worried about you but it never occurred to you that he'd come looking for you. Being in the BAU for more than a year doesn't make you chummy with each other, especially with Dr. Spencer Reid, or so you've heard.

He was cautious around you, he was not afraid, just that he could tell you preferred solitude compared to the average population. But he never took the chance that when you displayed more emotion than you would otherwise, to walk away. Always asking if you were alright, leaving you small treats at your desk knowing that it helps you. You kept to yourself and he respected that, in turn, so did you. Not many catch on to your subtle way of pulling back from too much physical contact, or the way you'd always make the person before you speak, knowing they had no chance of asking you about the details of the life you lived.

In a way, admiring his skills as a profiler was easy to come by. More so his little actions that left you thinking that he was one of the few people you'd consider opening up to. So listening to his observations was, if not intriguing, worth betting on.

'Okay, tell me what you got.' You let him have at it.

'Well, I would go into statistics but I'll keep it short. You have been on edge from the moment Garcia mentioned your hometown and judging by the way you keep mentioning this person's name, who I'll assume is someone you know from here and bad...things happened, causing you to have nightmares now more frequently maybe due to an anniversary.' He laid out like you were an open book. Who were you kidding? Where would he be if he wasn't good at his job?

Your brows knitted and you let out a painful chuckle but you knew that wasn't all he figured out. 'What else?'

'You had also correctly estimated Stephen's sister's age simply based on the fact that they are a family of 4, which tells me that this isn't the first this has happened here, in fact the very first time it did, it was very close to you or maybe you were involved.' He finished the last of his deduction and looked at you, searching for a mistake in his findings, it concerned you after all.

'You got me, ha. That name, Steven, he um, he was—' you tried completing your sentence, your lips began shaking and you looked away from Spencer because other people seeing you cry was never on your bucket list. 'Steven was my little brother.' You bit the words but it spilled out in all it's shapeless glory.

'Was?' Spencer questioned.

'He went missing, 20 years ago...he was 6, just like Stephen and I was...11, just like that little girl.' It took everything in you, every bone and muscle to let out what you couldn't for 20 years. 'Do you know what happened to him?' Spencer quietly asked. 'All I know was that my mother had brought him out to play and he never came back, whenever I asked all she would do was look at me like maybe I should've been the one that was gone.'

'Does anyone know? Someone had to be searching for him—'

'Reid, no one knew my brother, they...forgot him, or chose to. I couldn't ask what had happened or go to the police station because my mother, she would tell me he was okay.' The warm streaks of salty tears had left your eyes, you wanted them to stop, it was shame and regret that filled your mind. 'Four days from now would be his anniversary of the day he disappeared.' Wiping your cheek and turning to face Spencer, you caught a glimpse of a man that looked like he knew.

Knew how much you were hurting, how that showing this side of yourself was only making it worse.

'I—'

'I'm sorry to interrupt but the Turner family is here.' An officer from the department had called you in. 'Yes, I'll be right there...Reid, thank you for the coffee and for uh, listening, I'll fill you in on the rest if you want.'

He subtly nodded and you both ushered inside.

You spotted the family and exchanged a quick greeting, expressing your apologies and understanding of the situation you began asking questions and later focused on asking the little girl, who was shaken up but put on a brave front to stay strong. Braver than the parents, you note.

'Hi, Tina, right? How are you feeling?' you bent down to meet her eye level. 'I'm fine, it's Stephen I'm worried about and you should be too.' She strongly expressed. Her concern for her brother was what made you smile inwardly, 'We are, Tina but we're going to ask you some questions. Is that okay with you?' Quickly gaining the quiet approval of the parents you proceeded.

'Are you and Stephen close?'

'Yeah, he's very clumsy so I have to look out for him a lot, and because he's so short, I don't like people thinking they can pick on him.' She answered true. 'That's very good Tina, you're a wonderful sister, tell me, lately has there been anyone you know who's been close to Stephen besides you or your parents?'

'No not really, he's got two friends but they both moved away...oh!' The girl had a moment of realisation. 'There's this lady that visits our house sometimes. My mom and dad usually say hi to her, and she keeps asking me if Stephen's been studying well.' She completed.

'That's Rosa, she's the head of the neighbourhood watch, she was with me even when I was in labour  at the hospital here, suggested the name too, you don't think?' The mother's face contorted a little as her mind raced.

How could you forget your mother's name, she flaunted it for as long as you stayed with her. Rosa Cyrus, a symbol of hope so domineering, it paralysis any that gets too close to its core, that's who she was, or who she saw herself as.

'We can't say for sure ma'am, but you should stay here. Thank you, Tina, what you said was very helpful. We'll find your brother, I promise.' You stuck your hand out and she grabbed it quickly, giving you a wobbly handshake her little hands could gather. 'Uhm, Ms. FBI Agent ma'am, I really want to see my brother again, please.'

You sucked in whatever painful thought you gathered and gave the family a smile.

'Thank you, please find him.' The father could barely put up a brave front, his face already riddled with tear stains. 'We will.'

'Good job.' Rossi was outside the door, he gently patted your shoulder. 'Hmm, we need to find him.'

'And we will, after all, with a team like ours and not to mention boy genius, we'll find the kid.' Rossi's words brought comfort.

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

You immediately called Garcia once you entered the conference room where everyone was gathered, 'Find the location of Rosa Cyrus, any properties in her name and any known associates, She might have moved to this neighbourhood 10 years ago, also I need you to trace her past phone calls and bank transactions.' You felt your patience running thin, you knew this woman from the moment her name-dropped, she was your mother after all. Now all you wished for was that you got rid of all traces of her, including her last name.

'Um Hi?'

'Garcia, now.'

It wasn't your intention to be demanding, or sound angry, emotions getting in the way of work has rough consequences. 'O-okay, I'll be back as soon as possible.' You let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed your forehead. 'Who is she?' Tara asked you, and you paused and looked at her, it was then that you caught on that everyone in the room had a torn look of concern directed at you.

'My mother.' You took your chance and here spills the truth.

'Your mother? What does your mother have to do with this?' Emily asked, she wasn't asking as a friend but as your chief. 'Tina said that Rosa Cyrus had been visiting their house every now and then, checking in on Stephen, claiming that she was only doing her duty as the head of the neighbourhood watch. The mother said she was even present when he was born, and gave him his name too.'

'But why—'

'Okay guys, this is very suspicious,' Garcia checked back in right on time.

'Rosa Cyrus, born and raised in Bakersfield, once married to a construction worker named Daniel Carter. Later she gave birth to one, oh uhm, little girl-' you shut your eyes at the mention of your name, '-and she went into labour once again... the only thing specified about the baby was the gender, it was a baby boy, no records after that, hospital records don't mention a name, date of birth is listed but it looks like at the time they didn't stay in long to mention details. It was like this boy didn't exist.' Garcia sympathetically continued on, you knew she would want to be there for you right now, 'She got a divorce 6 years after her son was born but from her contact history, it looks like Daniel and her never lost touch.'

'That sorry bitch.' You whispered, more so as an undertone, it was loud enough that Luke and Spencer looked up at you.

'Okay this is where things get weirder, she started frequenting the Turner house since the birth of Stephen. A camera feed shows that she was on the way to the Turner's house the day before he went missing.' She finished up.

'Yeah, I asked the neighbours across the street if they saw anything but they hadn't, they did hear a car leave the scene at roughly the same time Reid narrowed down the time he was taken.' Luke filled in. 'Roughly between 11:30 pm to 2 am, which was around the time Joy went to check in on Stephen. Based on the time they heard the car fleeing, he was missing at around 12:35 pm.' Emily gave a quick nod at Spencer's deduction.

'Thank you Garcia, any known whereabouts on Daniel?'

'Searching now and there, the last known location was the police—He was right there. Okay uhh, sending you his address and Rosa's current address, please catch these a-holes!'

'Oh that's a done deal. Garcia?'

'Yeah?'

'My little brother's name was Steven, please, don't forget.' That was a plea. A plea that she understood right away, one that also was directed to everyone in that very room.

The two of you might be at a distance but you could tell she smiled on the other end, 'I won't, sugar.'

With Garcia hanging up, now things have increased in pace, you have a name and a face to give to your unsub all that's left now is to find them and the boy.

'Tara, I need you to tell the chief to pull up an APB on Rosa and Daniel.' Emily handed out orders, and Tara was just as quick to respond, 'Luke and JJ, head over to Daniel's address, If he's there, bring him in and be careful, he is likely on alert since he visited the station. Rossi, Reid and I will be on our way to Rosa's, Cyrus—'

'I know, I'll stay here, I'm too close to the case now.'

'Yes but also, if Luke and JJ get back here with Daniel, he'll demand to see you, There's a chance he knows you're here and that might convince him to assume you would be on his side if he asks for you, you'll only meet him with Tara or Reid in the room with you, can you do that? I need you as level-headed as possible.' She looked you straight in the eyes, which caused you to pause for a good minute to assess all possibilities.

Would you be okay seeing someone you haven't in 20 years? Someone who pretty much played a part in your brother's disappearance?

You took that one minute to take a breath, record all scenarios and with a tight chest you gave Emily your response, 'Yes, if it will get him to talk, I'll play my cards like I always do.'

'Good, let's get moving then.'

You sat down on one of the chairs, watching your team leave the PD, getting armed and ready as they darted out but you didn't notice one more lingering figure. He was quiet but he didn't startle you again this time.

Spencer gave a single pat on the shoulder, but before he could leave the interaction, you placed a hand over his and held on to him. Though the touch startled him, from his gatherings, he noticed that you didn't look at him, you hung your head low but latched on to his fingers in a desperate attempt to feel comfort. Your bad dream suddenly seems to stray from your head and bend the strings of reality, nestling in unrest you didn't want to feel again.

You let out a quiet sniffle, with a daft smile you let go of the hand that brought you safety. 'Go.'

Moreover, he did. The fading figure of your colleague and now close friend, caused you to huddle into yourself.

You're going to be okay. A silent notion of sanity.

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

'Hey, got you something to eat.' Tara walked into the room and sat next to you, she carefully placed a package of Choux Pastry before you. Eyes darted to indicate a grateful gesture was about to be appreciated. Tara required no words for the way you'd carefully taken out the plate, digging in right away to know that this was the little thing that might keep you going, thank yous fell out of your mouth after a good bite. 'Take your time and eat it though, can't have a good agent choking on a choux pastry on a Tuesday.' She chided.

'So no dying on Tuesdays, duly noted doc.' A light breathy laugh left you. It was the small things, nobody asked or pleaded for an offer of gold to feel better about themselves, if anyone knew that, it was everyone at the BAU. 'We're all here if you need us, okay?' Her voice said it all, that was enough. 'I know, it's why I'm still here.'

Silence had fallen in the room, it wasn't heavy, not at all, but that didn't make Tara's fumbling with case files any quieter. 'You can ask me, you know?' You broke the silence, and the rustling of papers stopped.

'What?'

'I know you want to ask me something so go ahead, don't believe I have anything to hide...at this point anyway.'

She sighed and rose from her chair, 'I just, okay, she waited exactly 6 years to take Stephen, she named him, tried to intervene and raise him like he was her own. She named him after her—your brother, who no one knew existed. Clearly she's reliving an event. So, why Steven? What happened to him?' she began, 'She couldn't have simply waited for another child to be born in the right circumstances, there has to be another boy, that no one knows about who's missing, or maybe a person, an adult who would match Steven's description? This woman needs a trigger to have to wait to do something like this.'

'So you're saying, there's a chance Grace is a...serial killer?'

'She would know how to take care of the bodies, a place or method she knows well enough so that nothing odd would ever turn up.' Tara walked over to the pile of missing persons reports, looking through them with brows crossed. 'Wait, I think there was one case, a 16-year-old boy. He looked exactly how I'd imagine Steven to, check case number 000612-M5-034.' You got up from the chair, standing right by Tara with arms crossed. 'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.'

Part 2

[crazylittlejester]

i'd love to hear all your head canons on Warriors! and the others too if you have any. :)

i'm trying to get into writing fanfiction but its difficult when the canon version of Link is just "blank stare and sometimes arson" /j. Warriors is one of the Links i have the most difficulty with characterization lol (Legend, Hyrule, and Four or also giving me trouble /lh)

aight this is definitely gonna be so much more than you asked for but im not havin a great day and you asked about my special guy and gave me permission to yap about him, so here are a lot of headcanons + the way that I write/characterize him in my own fics! (my bad for spelling errors or if this is incoherent)

- I hc he came from a rather large family out in the country, so he had a lot of sisters growing up and a lot more space than the city but he moved to the city and has stayed there since he joined the army at 15/16

- I know most people hc all the Link’s parents are dead but NOT ME, Wars still has his mom, but he hasn’t been home since he left. I hc he hasn’t been able to bring himself to go home because he feels like the war changed him so much as a person that he won’t belong there and nothing will be the same, and that his family won’t take him back because they’re expecting the same kid who left and he just isnt that person anymore

- I will die on the hill that this man is a fake blond (and that he also straightens his hair). I hc he started dying his hair because he was so desperate to fit in and also to look like the other heroes because his image is incredibly important to him. A whole war was started over him because Cia wanted him, he feels like he needs to at least LOOK like that classic image of the hero. Tied in with this i think he has a lot of insecurity about himself and how he looks because he forces himself to look such a particular way and he’s created this character of himself and acts it out so thoroughly he’s forgotten who HE actually is

- This is a popular hc for him because in his game soldiers turn against him, and you have to fight them in game so a lot of people hc there have been assassination attempts against him and that these include poison. So I hc he has a very intense fear of food that sometimes prevents him from being able to eat all together because he can’t trust where it comes from. Some days he has to watch it be made, some days he has to make it himself, and rarely he just can’t do it. This is all based on my own food allergies and fear of cross contamination, and I also gave him a safe food: oranges! My thinking behind this is that when I get like this eating prepackaged foods are the most comforting to me because it makes me feel like it couldn’t have touched something I’m allergic to, and oranges have a peel which is just a barrier between them and the world. Can they still be poisoned? Absolutely, and Wars knows this, but he’s irrationally dependent on them because in his mind they’re safe because he NEEDS them to be, otherwise he just can’t eat. Like deep down he knows it’s stupid and they’re not guaranteed safe for him, but when he’s panicking he’ll grab those because he’s convinced himself they’re safe and he’s yet to be wrong

- Purely self indulgent hc but I also gave him my blood sugar issues, which is truly just an angst source for me because he’s caught in a trap of having an issue where he HAS to eat semi frequently or bad things will happen but his deep rooted fear of all his food being contaminated makes it really really hard for him to do so

- I hc he’s got a journal that has so so much in it that’s a mix between a diary, battle plans, history book in the making, sketchbook, and more. To me he’s got such a big big brain and a thirst for knowledge and he absorbs history like a SPONGE. He met all these people from other eras during the war and he learned so much about them and their cultures and times, and now he’s going through time to some of these places??? He’s writing that shit DOWN. He’s absolutely the first one to figure out where everyone is on the timeline. He also got used to observing soldiers during battle and noting their strengths and weaknesses so he could plan where to put them in battle and thats just somethin he cannot turn off, so he analyzes the chain and all his notes on them are in this book too. He TELLS them these things, with the intent to help them grow stronger, and he absolutely offers to help them work things out and because of this the group has really become a solid unit. Also the whole thing is written in his native language that NONE of the others can read (I hc he’s brazilian/scottish and his native language is the equivalent of portuguese)

- He’s a very touch oriented person, though the war and his trust issues kinda messed that up for him, but he IS getting better with it. He does much better if he’s the one initiating contact, and he’s definitely a shoulder to lean on for the others and his hugs are very nice

- I hc he HATES shit rubbing against his neck, which is one of the reasons why that scarf is so thoroughly pinned down

- I also hc he came from a family of tailors, so he’s definitely one of the people the chain goes to if they need sewing help

- He’s the one who gives the others haircuts, and he taught Wind how to properly care for his curly hair

- I hc he has temperature regulation issues because of the severe burn scarring Volga left him with, so he and Wild are ALWAYS the first two to overheat

i have more, i could talk about him for hours, but my brain is getting fuzzy so i’ll stop here for now lmao sorry for yapping so much 😭

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey bbg how u doing 🗣️ ik ur reqs arent open but i feel like if i wait for too long ill forget omg 😭, this req is KINDA self indulgent, lifes been crazy lately to say the least

i was thinking abt a fic with our (technically my) hubby peter q when reader has a nightmare, maybe abt something from their past b4 becoming a guardian ! i feel like peter would be so sweet gurgrhrgrh, trying to calm reader down, shushing them, etc 🙏

just a lil ideaaa, hope youve been having a good february! have a great week/end :-)

-🪐

bbg!!! hii hi! did do this even though they’re closed bc it’s a cute idea and ive missed writing quill! hope you’re doing better now, sending love. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

DISRUPTED.

peter quill x gn reader

word count. 471

warnings. none? no details pertaining nightmares, just fluff & comfort

Quill is someone you often use as a source of support, his naturally comforting personality acting like a magnet for you and those around him. 

You would subconsciously seek him out for refuge during those moments when it all felt like too much, and sometimes, you didn't even realise just how much you gravitated towards him.

Even with sleep, he was still someone you relied on - just knowing he was there, laid next to you, was usually enough to steady your mind. 

But sometimes, the feel of his body beside you wasn't enough to keep you asleep. You'd often jitter and jolt and toss during your nights of slumber, past memories coming back to haunt you in the form of nightmares - all of it keeping you from resting peacefully. 

They were manageable for a while until very recently, when you'd essentially thrash yourself awake. Peter, your boyfriend, would be awake before you - the movement of you beside him coaxing himself out of sleep. 

But tonight was the worst one you've had for a while. It felt like you were stuck in your nightmare and unable to wake up - the feel of it all too heavy and daunting. 

Unbeknownst to you, Quill was trying to help, sat beside you, calling your name and gently shaking your arm, trying to force you awake. Your head jolts abruptly, and you finally wake - fear all over your face as you pat the bed to find Peter.

He calls your name once more, his voice soft and soothing - trying to help you locate him. "It's okay," he coos, adjusting to lay back down beside you, facing you. “It’s okay, honey.”

"It was horrible," you mumble tearfully, shaking your head. "It..."

"It seemed horrible," he comforts, bringing his hand to rest on the side of your face, palm large and warm as he thumbs over your cheek. "Was it the same one?" 

You hum softly, closing your eyes from the warm touch of your lover. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks faintly.

You shake your head 'no'.

He hums quietly, understanding you.

He scooches in closer and slips his arm under your head, propping you up so he can pull you into him. You curl into his side, head resting on his bicep - burying your face into his chest like you were hiding, using him as protection almost.

He wraps his other arm over you, bringing you closer so he's cradling you - like he's trying to keep you safe. 

"I'll stay up. I'll keep you safe, you get some sleep," Peter murmurs, pressing a kiss into your forehead as he grips you tighter.

The comforting smell of his chest and the warm touch of his hands slowly eases you back into sleep - the steady circles Quill drew on your back act as a distraction from your mind, swarmed within a blanket of security.