#im here to supply that trauma

[otame]

oh god help, GO kids dont even have their families mentioned at all (except Tenma, his mom is briefly mentioned, and Sangoku's mom made a whole episodal appearance, and Yamato's dad is Senguuji Daigo, yea that speaks volumes)

But no trauma tho :(

(But that's why I'm here :)

LEVEL-5 looking at all their characters and just being like "what if you had family issues or just no family at all?" And no one's tried to stop them.

[pastelfable]

I love everything about chapter 5 but one of my favorite things is how despite meeting every other region leader in their own region glen is just inexplicably in aelio. and he’s only here to bicker with crawford like a divorced couple

[millersfinest]

can u make some like generic dating ellie headcannons? (tlou universe preferably)

i love ur writing sm!!

dating ellie williams ◡̈

cw: usual fluff, mentioned love languages, mention of joel’s death (i wanted to be as canon as possible), a little nsfw but nothing too crazy.

note: here are some semi-ooc ellie hc’s!! i feel like im so bad at headcanons, but here you go. thank you for enjoying my work, i hope you like this too pookie!

ellie! is a total introvert to her core, so no matter how she found out about you taking interest in her… she’d probably need some time to think about it.

ellie! would have you freaking tf out over it too. but she means well, she’s just a really bad over-thinker—never wanting to say the wrong thing. but she’d come around and never stop apologizing to you.

ellie! would take a little while to open up to you, if you weren’t friends first. she’s been through a lot in her life, and she fears that her trauma could scare people away.

now, if you were already friends (specifically close friends), you probably would’ve already known her deepest darkest secrets and feelings by the time you started dating. every traumatic event and every fixation she’s had since she was a child.

ellie! thoroughly believes in physical touch and quality time as a love language.

for physical touch: it doesn’t always have to be sexual (she doesn’t complain either way), she just likes to touch you—knowing you’re right there next to her. you could be doing the dishes and she’d come up behind you, leaning her head on your shoulder, with her hands delicately placed on your hips. or standing by the bar at the tipsy bison, with her fingers dipped into any of the pockets of your jeans. keeping you close.

for quality time: she does love her moments alone, but they’re always better with you somewhere near by. sometimes, when she would spend hours painting or drawing in her art room, she’d ask if you could come sit in. so you’d bring your book, or whatever you were doing, and read silently in the same room as her. while a smooth record played in the background. but sometimes, she doesn’t even ask. you could be doing the most boring thing ever, and she’d float around you like a curious bumblebee.

ellie! love, love, loves being babied—even though she’d never admit it. she has a reputation to uphold, of course. during the spring, due to the patrols and supply runs, her allergies would wreck havoc on her. that’s where you come in to nurture her back to health. she’d have tissue stuck up her nose, with her head lying in your lap on the couch. you rubbing your hand over her hair, soothingly.

“if you kiss me right now, i think my sinuses will re-open.”

“ellie, you just sneezed two minutes ago.”

“baby, pleaseeeee! i need it!” and she’d give the craziest puppy dog eyes known to man. and, of course, you’d give in. giving her the sweetest smooch ever. it didn’t open her sinuses, but she knew that. just know… she’s gonna convince you to give her another to be sure.

another scenario would be coming home after a long day at work (idk i feel like doing patrols would be like her main thing). she probably had a rough day with the lingering infected, and came back with a few injuries. the moment she stepped through the door, she’d be calling for you. wrapped in your arms, smelling like the outdoors, you’d slowly undress her and then run a bath. she loved when you’d cater to her in that way—cleaning her cuts, washing her skin from dried blood and dirt. after all that, you’d cuddle in bed, pillow-talking until her eyes shut before yours.

“goodnight, els.” smooch.

ellie! was a little iffy when it came to holidays, but when it came to your birthday it was a special affair. jackson was a healthy and happy little bubble, but because the idea of loss wasn’t foreign to her—celebrating her loved ones was very important to her.

if you didn’t like grand gestures, she’d keep it lowkey. maybe throwing a little surprise for the two of you at home; cooking you dinner, having a movie night, and giving you little trinkets she found on the road. or painting something for you in secret, then giving it to you as a gift.

speaking of cooking…

ellie! has thing for making good food. a part of me feels like joel put her on when she was young, and after he died (yeah, i’m sorry) she made an effort to keep it up. playing guitar was much harder for her since she only had two fingers and a thumb on her left hand—so she decided to pick up something else to stay close to him.

so every chance she can get, she cooks for you or both of you. when you would go on patrols, you’d make sure to pick up cook books from before the outbreak since she found them so fascinating. and you loved being her little food guinea pig. spoiler: she was a fast learner so her cooking skills were pretty good.

ellie! 100% taught you to play the song (that we all know and love) that joel taught her on the guitar. and whenever you knew she needed to hear it, you’d play it for her. and, i swear on everything, there’d be tears in her eyes every time.

and for some freaky stuff… (i won’t get into crazy detail but i just wanna be thorough ;D)

ellie! just loves loving you… making love to you—doing everything that she can to almost prove that you’re everything to her (not that she needs to but she does it anyway).

meaning: at the very best, she’s a service!top. however, i can get behind her being a switch/verse (or maybe i’m bias lmao).

ellie! probably wouldn’t strap as often as the fanfics show. especially being in this apocalyptic world—where would you get them?? if they weren’t hella old… and, i feel like she’d think they were a little silly (but if you wanted to try it, she’d oblige because what you say goes).

ellie! loves to watch the expressions of your features contort into visuals of pleasure. it’s how she knew she was being good for you—doing everything that you asked but better!

your first time: of course she was super awkward. not really knowing where to put her hands at first. but once the heat began to rise, and your bodies began to press together, her entire energy changed! she’s her most confident when she’s in service to someone (in some way)—so she makes it her prerogative to make you feel good and comfortable. you weren’t really expecting that from her, though. it only took one airy moan coming from your lips for her to completely flip the script.

her hands were firmly delicate, and she made sure to be very vocal in your ears and over your body.

overall, ellie williams is a very attentive lover. in many ways than just one.

[nerdallwritey]

Awfully Fond of You

Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!!  - 🪴 (Link to original request here).

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, 🪴 anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!

Without further ado, 🪴 anon, I hope you like it!

The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.

With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days. 

Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine. 

You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up. 

That only left Astarion.

To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo. 

But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it. 

Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were… you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through. 

And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger. 

You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.

Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.

His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.

“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk. 

Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”

“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”

“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.

You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He hummed lamely. 

“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”

“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.

“Guilty.”

“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”

“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately. 

He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” 

You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own. 

“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”

Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”

“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”

He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”

“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”

“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms. 

“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.

Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”

“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”

“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.

Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”

“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”

He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”

You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.” 

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you. 

You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party. 

This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that. 

Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her. 

“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine. 

“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left. 

“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you. 

You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.

“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”

Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”

You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”

Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”

She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”

You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um… I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”

“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”

You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”

“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach. 

But you faltered. 

“Does he?”

“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”

“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you. 

“You do. You know you do.” 

“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up. 

Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”

“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”

“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”

You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off. 

How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.

“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.

Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”

You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”

“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.

Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”

You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.

Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.

You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something… I have a great relationship with.”

“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.

You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but… yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”

“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”

“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.

When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

“I don’t think he would either.”

“He knows we’d kill him.”

“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”

“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion. 

After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”

“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Of course.”

You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“What am I gonna do?”

~~~~~

Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place. 

The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him. 

Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.

Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy. 

To a degree.

Okay, no he wasn’t. 

He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him. 

You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection. 

Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.

It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral. 

You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless. 

“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.” 

He approached you slowly. 

Seductively. 

You stood completely still.

He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

You swallowed thickly.

He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”

“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”

Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.

While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway. 

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”

“We don’t have to.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”

You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then… what are you doing here?” 

You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”

Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”

“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.

He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Not right now, no.”

He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”

“It means… It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”

Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly. 

“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.

You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head. 

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“So… what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.

You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”

“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.

You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around Faerûn?”

“Well, it’s not like I-”

“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”

“Okay, that’s-”

“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”

“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.

“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”

You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”

He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed. 

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. 

“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than…” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”

You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”

“Pardon?”

“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but…”

Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”

You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.

He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.

“Um… if it’s alright with you, I…” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react. 

“What is it, darling?”

“I’d like to… bathe you.”

Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.

“What?”

Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”

“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.

“Huh?”

He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.

“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features. 

Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”

You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”

~~~~~

The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body. 

This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.

Happy.

And nervous. 

Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.

“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.

You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”

“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”

“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”

“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.

You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”

Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”

“Oh, okay great. Done.”

“Really?”

“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway. 

“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”

He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.

“It’s just that…” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been… naked in front of someone. For a while.”

Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.

“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.

You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.

“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”

You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”

“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.

Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.

He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”

You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake. 

“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.

He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.

“What’s what?”

“You’re stalling, darling.”

“I am not!”

Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”

“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face. 

He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention. 

“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away. 

You nodded.

“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt. 

The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.

Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you. 

You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband. 

“These probably need to come off next, right?”

“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”

“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. 

“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”

“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything  to end this weird tension you were feeling. 

“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”

Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet. 

He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”

You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you. 

Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing. 

“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”

You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”

He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh. 

When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well… you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He spun to face you. “Nothing?”

You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around…I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s… I’m just not used to it.” 

“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”

He hummed. “Can you… I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”

Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”

You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge. 

“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears. 

He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.

“Um… Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.

“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.

He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.

“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders. 

“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.

“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”

“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”

Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades. 

“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”

You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”

Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work. 

Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”

“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin. 

You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just… wanted you to know that I care.”

Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”

You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”

He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over. 

After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”

Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child. 

You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”

“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but… I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”

Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”

You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands. 

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing. 

“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand. 

“You-” He paused again.

“I?”

“You’re… I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued. 

“If you’re trying to figure me out… one might say that you’re interested in me.”

He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”

“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face. 

He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?

“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky. 

You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”

Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.

“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”

“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.

You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.

“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.

“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”

“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”

“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair. 

“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.

“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased. 

“I could rip your throat out.”

“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory. 

“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.

“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”

Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”

You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like?” he prompted.

“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”

“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp. 

You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him. 

“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.

“A shame we never crossed paths.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”

Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”

“How quaint.”

“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.” 

“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”

You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”

“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.

You laughed and nodded. 

He smiled. “Mine, too.”

You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks. 

Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process. 

“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”

You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh. 

“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.

“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”

He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”

You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.

He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”

You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”

He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“With soap and water?”

“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.

“How? It’s soap and water!”

“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance. 

“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.

“Am I not to return the favor?”

You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited. 

Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”

“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body. 

Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well… You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.

“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.” 

You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. 

When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes. 

“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.

“Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.

“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”

“I… could be persuaded,” he nodded.

“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.

“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly. 

You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip. 

Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight. 

[vines-mansion]

yay! I have been collected!

don’t worry, I eat an apple, baby carrots or fries, and a normal dinner every day still

I’m trying to get better with my metal stuff, but every time I think ‘oh hey, I’m getting better now!’ Life comes in and pelts me with more lemons to add onto my backstory life really likes pelting me with lemons

if it doesn’t stop soon, I’m gonna go from the goofy sidekick character who needs a break and some long overdue cuddles to the villain who needs a break and some long overdue cuddles (kinda got a little trauma dumping thing going on under the cut, so, you’ve been warned lol)

I’m currently running on self-hate thoughts, little enough food to make horror sans cry, less then four hours of sleep, and a vow to punch whatever deity that decided it hates me

life is at rock bottom and I’m screaming at the workers to put down the shovels

sorry for kinda trauma-dumping on ya, but honestly Tumblr feels way more accepting then IRL right now and I’m deluding myself to keep going on until I find another reason to not run off into the forest and go do something stupid like try to pet a wolf

I feel like that one meme of the dog surrounded by fire and drinking from a mug ‘this is fine’

@the-axolotl-skellie

I

has many things

I would like to share things with you

You got Frosted mini donuts (12)

You got Apples (5)

You got CheeseIts (1)

you got chocolate Mini donuts (23)

You got fresh cake (1)

you got plushies (50)

you got soft blankets (20)

you got GIANT SNUGGIE THAT IS SO LONG THAT ITS PRACTICALLY A DRESS AND THE SLEEVES ARE SO FLOPPY YOU COULD SMACK SOMEONE WITH THEM AND THE THING IS SO BIG YOU CAN PUT IT ON WITH THE NECK-HOLE THING (2)

Definitely not giving food to you so I don’t feel like they’re judging me for not eating much anymore, definitely not. Don’t be silly

devouring your lovely art <3

*Lune happily snuggles with the snuggie! Lune then takes all of this to their cave in the lake, saving for later!*

*...Lune comes back a moment later, and takes anon as well.*

*You've been collected.*

[very-d1pper]

inspired by a post from @jamandjazz

How Johnny Cade, Dallas Winston, and Steve Randle are affected by their parent issues.

ok so keep in mind i havent read the book since december (i dont have my own copy) so this might be a bit wrong. im using info from my mind, the movie, the musical, tiktok, and here.

Johnny Cade

so its canon that johnny wouldve ran away if it werent for the gang (starting off strong with dally-johnny parallels OUCH)

the abuse from his parents definitely gave him a fucked up sense on what it means to feel loved

which is why johnny gets along with dally so well, i'll get into that more in dally's part

he 100% thinks that the entire world hates him except for the gang

someone said that he is so sweet its sick, not true. the abuse definitely toughened him up enough that he will be mean to strangers

he canonically is somewhat responsible (going out to the store to buy supplies and giving ponyboy a note)

im saying that because im pretty sure pony says something like twobit and someone else in the gang would forget to buy something johnny remembered

johnny learned that from having to live out on the street sometimes when his parents fought or kicked him out for multiple days

he is the living definition of forgive but never forget

he just wants a home

i personally hc that the abuse started as johnny grew older, maybe when he was 6-8 years old

which is why johnny (especially in the musical) still cares about his parents

because he remembers that they WERE good people

and he hopes to bring them back eventually

Dallas Winston

oh this man...

ran away from his problems. thats canon

his mom died when she gave birth and thats why his dad is the alcoholic deadbeat abuser he is

the abuse from his parents gave him a fucked up sense on what it means to love

which is why he can talk to johnny so well because johnny is used to the type of love dally gives

he 100% hates the world except for the gang

the abuse toughened up both johnny and dally, the thing is dally grew up with it, johnny was raised with love at first

also dally's environment in ny, that place is rough in many areas

tulsa doesnt have that, at least not on the level of ny

he's rough with everyone because thats what he learned

Steve Randle

UGH THIS MAN BRO

screw u se hinton for giving us NOTHING abt him

anyways!!

the neglect sooo fucked him up

then his dad giving physical money for forgiveness?

hell nahhh

steve definitely felt like he cannot be loved without paying someone

like with real money

which made him feel unlovable because he's like broke as fuck

soda was the first person to show him what love actually is

his mom uhh eloped to wherever after steve's birth ig idfk

steve thinks everything in the world comes with a price, even an ounce of love

i literally cant think of shit for this man rn

All Three

accidentally trauma bonding

johnny mentioned something then both steve and dally said "same"

genuinely concerning from an outsider standpoint but really funny to them

if it was modern au darry or soda wouldve sent them to therapy

one time johnny got kicked out and went to the curtis house and found steve in the kitchen

j: "kicked out?"

s: "...yeah"

j: "same."

then dally walks in

d: "bottles got thrown at me in buck's place"

j: "ptsd?"

d: "no-" *remembers he's with two people who had it happen to them* "...yeah"

j and s- "its good."

johnny convinces them to do a cuddle blob thing (the gang's done them before)

darry wakes up and see them, doesnt comment but remembers for blackmail

[withonly-sweetheart]

Reap What You Sow

part two

You've been reaped, and your partner is not the man you want to be spending a bloodbath with. But what if he's nothing like what you expected?

a/n: for the anon that's waited SO patiently for it... im still working on figuring out ur identity but im a bit slow... so.... i hope u like it i had to reread the book for this and WEUIORWPDOSWEIOR i have trauma from thg trust me

tw: major character deaths (if you can guess who ily <3) mentions of blood, gore, illnesses, blah blah all that stuff yk

wc: 3.6k

part one here!!

The first thing you feel, stupidly, is betrayal, but you hadn’t been together in the first place. There was no thought out alliance, even if that was what Haymitch was hoping for in the endgame. 

“Nice one, lover boy,” one of the boys teases. “Next time, make sure it's your girlfriend. Can’t recognize one girl from another, huh?” 

“He’s just that desperate,” one of them replies, and they all break out into laughs, sounding amazingly like a pack of coyotes. Leon stares down at his feet, gripping the coil of thin, white wire wrapped around his fist. 

“The faster we get rid of her,” he grits out from behind clenched teeth, “the better chance we have of winning. She’s smart enough to survive unless we take her out.”

“Take her out? Wow, Leon, ever the romantic one, aren’t you?” one of the girls muses. But Leon doesn’t smile like you expect him to, and the only emotion that overtakes his face is disgust as he scowls.

“Let’s just get moving,” he growls.

You see in Leon's stony gaze not hatred - but shame. For a moment, your eyes meet, and you understand. This is not the end, he promises silently.

Calming your racing, pounding heart, you slip back into the trees, vanishing on the wind. 

You can feel the camera on your back, tracking you, and you realize that you’ve kept your face as neutral as Leon’s, so just to keep them interested (and to bring in more sponsors), you tilt your head towards the afternoon sun and smile knowingly.

Let them figure that out, you think. 

You keep your footsteps vague, letting them track where you were - not where you’re going to disappear to as cunning guides your unsteady, unsure steps toward victory.

<><><><><><>

You’ve fared pretty well, you think, for the past three days. Your snares are doing well, and you’ve stayed close to the river. Luckily, the Gamemakers haven’t thought of targeting you for your little stunt, and you feel grateful for a moment before realizing that you’re still in danger.

A drift of voices carries on the breeze, and straining your ears, you snatch the faint sounds of celebration from the Careers' camp. Though your mind screams not to, you creep closer - and there, lying on the wind, come the first hints of Leon's ruse. 

"...tracks lead east. Could have ditched the knife, gone after bigger prey."

A derisive snort. "Girl's got more sense. Doubt she went after a damn bear with her dinky little knife."

But Leon persists, voice dropping low and persuasive. "Unless she's more desperate than we thought. And these woods are full of desperate souls..."

You see his silhouette move with subtle gestures, painting a picture only you could see is false. Slowly, so slowly, he nudges their guesses astray, south, then west into thicker forest. 

By the time their supplies were packed to give chase at dawn, Leon had spun such a tangled web even you almost believed his stories. 

And in the cloud of lies he wove to protect you, you start questioning whether or not the man you know is there, beneath the killer, if a shred of mercy remains.

He gives no sign of knowing you watch. You don’t know if he knows you are there, but that night, you say a silent prayer of thanks for this small act of unexpected grace.

<><><><>

You breathe deep as forest mosses muffle your footsteps, senses sharpening for the soft calls of potential allies. You want to seek out the little boy that followed you around during training, but so far, you haven’t seen him. But another sound comes floating through the wood - a broken, mournful murmur that pricks your heart.

Tracing the plea, you find Leon alone amid the ferns, face buried in his hands. At your approach he scrambles up, fingers clawing for the hilt of a missing blade.

"Come to finish it yourself?" he hisses, agony written plain before the mask slams down over his face.

Slowly, showing empty hands, you meet his wild eyes with a steady gaze. "Calm down, I’m here to help. You… don’t look too good.”

Leon sways, strength waning as exhaustion takes hold. Something flickers in his eyes as he collapses to the side, slowly curling into a fetal position.

Your hesitation is apparent, but immediately disappears when he hits the leaves, fingers slackening from your fists. You glance around, peering deep into the sheltering green, wary of enemies, but none arrive.

Then your facade breaks and you fall to your knees, surveying where his injury is, and spot the blood seeping from his shoulder.

“What happened?” you ask quietly.

“They found out I’m sick,” he whispers. You can’t resist flinching back a little, and he manages to grin before grimacing. “Cato stabbed me.”

“Why didn’t you run?”

“He saw you were standing there and sent people after you.”

You stare down at him, eyes blank before you frown. “But how’d you get hurt?”

“I killed them.” A groan passes his lips. “On second thought, save yourself.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you say as fiercely as you can through tears. You don’t know why the thought touches you, the fact he cares about you enough to betray his, however temporary, allies, just for you.

You would’ve assumed he would have laughed, joined them, even. A weak smile touches his lips. You rip fabric from your shirt to bind the makeshift dressing, tears mingling with the blood on your cheeks that got there from your frantic wiping. “Why’d you have to play the hero, huh? You couldn’t run away?”

“Had to… keep you… safe,” he rumbles, voice hoarse, parched.

“Well, congratulations, genius, now we’re both screwed.” Your breath hitches on a sob. “Just hold on, damn it! You’re not dying on me, hear that?”

Leon’s hand finds yours, grip tightening with determination. “Not… going anywhere. Promise.”

<><><><>

“What about the other girls?” you query, spooning soup between his lips, wincing as he swallows it with increased difficulty. His condition is getting worse, you can see that. You gently dab cold broth that you made hours ago from his ashen lips. 

Leon's labored breath grows more ragged, his burning gaze holding yours with haunting intensity. “What other girls?”

“Save your breath,” you reply, shaking your head. “It’s not important.”

“It’s important to you,” he says quietly, rubbing his finger in circles over your knuckles. “So tell me.”

“All those girls you dated back home, did they ever mean anything to you?” You drag in a fractured breath. “Do I?”

The royal crown of his hair dips back to grace the stone walls, breaths coming in puffs from his lips, twisted in a frown as he tilts his head to look at you, hooded eyes and furrowed brows asking you a silent question you can’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m thinking,” he rasps.

“Think faster,” you grumble.

He chuckles. “Bossy. Well, I guess the first girl I loved was my tutor,” he muses. “Not really my tutor. Just a girl that was smarter than me.”

“Was?” you ask, tilting your head.

“She died of some illness,” he says dismissively. “I loved the attention she gave me, treated me like I was her special little boy, even though that was part of her job. No, I didn’t love her, not really.” He meets your eyes steadily. “Not how I love you.”

And it’s moments like these that have you questioning whether or not he’s being serious, because his eyes are glazed and his mouth is set so seriously. Would he trade steel for softer weapons, if you grant his wish?

Gently, you lay your palm against burning flesh, unsure if you’re offering true solace or a cruel illusion, reflecting the confusion that you feel at his words.

“But you have every guy’s attention back home,” he breathes, almost a sigh. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”

I can almost hear what Haymitch is undoubtedly thinking back home, begging me to say out loud, for the cameras that are definitely watching us.

“I might have their attention, but you’ve always had mine.”

And as if on cue, a silver parachute blows in on the breeze, landing near your crossed legs, silky fabric brushing your hand as you eagerly unwrap it.

“Look what Haymitch got you,” you say teasingly as you reveal a vial of what you presume is medicine, must be for his cold.

You pour it into his soup, swirl it around until the spoon generates enough heat to dissolve the sticky, ivy colored liquid. Leon’s nose crinkles when it meets his tongue, jaw working as he swallows.

<><><><><>

“Can’t sleep?” Leon murmurs as you rouse, blinking some light into your vision. Your joints are stiff from the unforgiving stone that blankets you.

You rub your eyes. "I don’t think I’ve slept very well since we got here," you sigh, rolling your stiff neck. 

Leon watches with quiet eyes. "C’mere." He shifts to make room for you in the small, cramped area, patting the space next to him. Leaning into his solid warmth brings strange comfort, comfort you are unaccustomed to.

“You look really pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and when you crane your neck to glance up at him, there’s a dreamy look in his eyes as he gazes back, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Half asleep?” you joke.

“You look pretty no matter what.” Curled fingers graze your back, drawing tired muscle from knot to knot. You tense, unused to kindness from killers, mind flashing back to the way he had killed Glimmer, yet you let tension seep away under gentle pressure. 

When was the last soft touch? The last time you had let his hand touch your skin, heat mingling between your bodies? You lie your neck onto his shoulder, feeling him tense for barely a second before relaxing.

His breath fans your hair, smelling faintly of pine and earth. Your eyes flutter shut, forgetting just for moments your fate, and here in the dark, you forget that he might just be trying to kill you.

But, as all things do, it ends, and dawn looms with its crimson streaks. You are both marked for death, lambs led to slaughter, destiny undecided.

And you know you can’t let him choose what happens to not only you, but also your family. So you pull away from his warmth, almost immediately missing it, feeling the chill seep into your heart.

“I should… go hunt,” you explain quietly, but the hurt that presses through his neutral expression is something you have grown used to seeing.

"Go then," he murmurs, volume rising fluidly. "I just don’t get it.”

“Get what, Leon? We need to eat.” 

“I’m here for you, for free, and last night I proved to you that we don’t have to fight.”

His words sting, reminding you who you have to protect above all - those beyond these walls of blood. Your fists clench at your side, as taut as the cords in your wary stomach. "Nothing is decided here, not even-" 

"Trust?" Leon fills the sentence with wry amusement. "You don’t seem to trust even yourself, it seems."

Anger flares to life in your chest, his steady calm that dares your truths that you left unsaid, because that’s how you know to survive.

Your voice strikes like a flint against steel. "You might want to be thinking about your own survival, because your charming words mean nothing against bloodshed.”

His eyes flash, gray from moonlight, mouth hardening.

“Charming words are all I see you relying on, little bird. Will you still burn as bright as you think you are now, if it weren’t for me?"

His jab finds its mark - doubt you dare not voice aloud. Your jagged fingernails pierce the tender flesh of your palm, making crescent shaped, vague silhouettes of your anger. "How dare you say that? You don’t even know me, let alone what drives me to win!"

"Enlighten me then," Leon sneers, temper unleashed. But for a moment, a heartbeat, something flickers behind his granite eyes - regret? But he doesn’t stop.

"Is it because of your family? Or is the sick excitement I know you get from spilling blood by your pretty hand?"

You pause, taking in his words. You blink at him, face softening, releasing your hand from its anguish, unable to believe that he, of all, chained to this prison just as you are, could see you in such a light.

Your vision seems to dim red as a choked whisper claws free, "How… how could you say something like that?"

Silence hangs curdled between us as grim understanding sinks in, evident on his face. And you stand, brushing the underside of your thighs, biting your tongue, trying to convince yourself that you don’t care, that his words didn’t deliver a sting.

But the venom is already coursing through your blood as you walk away, leaving him alone, whispering your name.

<><><><>

The smell of damp earth fills his senses as Leon pushes through the foliage. He has to find you, has to make this right. Breaking through the treeline, he spots you sitting by the lake, your brown tunic matching the looming pines. 

You don’t turn as he approaches, eyes fixed on the still water. Leon's chest tightens. Stopping a few feet behind you, he whispers, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

Silence greets him, thick like the humid air. Leon kneels, reaching out to gently brush your shoulder. "Please, look at me." 

Your defiant yet sad gaze meets him as you turn. Eyes shining with unshed tears, your lips pull into a small pout. God, she’s beautiful. Leon cups her cheek, caressing soft skin with his thumb. 

"I was wrong. You mean everything to me. You would never do something like that, I know." Without waiting for a reply, he closes the distance between you and offers an apology, a plea for forgiveness, pouring it all into the tender press of lips, praying you understand. 

After a moment of hesitation, you lean back into him, and for the first time since you made your way into this hellscape, he feels genuine happiness.

But he doesn’t know you are only doing this for the camera nestled in the trees above you, panning across your faces, capturing every moment.

He doesn’t catch the clench of your fingers, turning them white.

<><><><><>

As the midafternoon sun breaks its unrelenting heat, you both stalk through the forest, looking for the last tribute, the last one before you’ll inevitably have to decide the victor between you both.

The sound of the river drowns out any other noise, the rush of water serving as a reminder of the weapon at your disposal.

Your opponent stands near the bank, eyes slanted dangerously. You recall yesterday, seeing Clove’s stoic face in the sky, flanked by puffy clouds. You also remember their bond, how close they were, horrifyingly similar to you and Leon.

Before long, you’re thrown into unwanted combat. Blood decorates the blades of grass dancing around your ankles, back to back with Leon as Cato’s fury seems to consume the arena.

Somewhere, deep inside you, a part that isn’t occupied with surviving, you feel pity for him, because in his howls of pain come grief, a silent plea to put him out of his misery.

As Cato lunges towards you with fierce determination, you act quickly, sidestepping his attack and delivering a powerful blow that sends him stumbling backwards towards the river's edge. 

Leon catches wind of your idea, and with a swift and unwavering hand, he pushes Cato into the cool, rushing waters below.

<><><><>

And we lie there, waiting for the river to calm, for the ripples gracing the muddy banks, right as twilight drapes the world in soft purple. 

The arena lies still, a haunting quiet settling over the blood-soaked ground. Shadows dance in the fading light, the remnant of the District 10 boy casting long, eerie shapes that stretch to meet your feet. There is no one left as the hovercraft picks him up too, leaving you both alone in the arena, surely being documented.

You see his hand grip the dagger jabbed between the lower fabric of his shirt, tearing a hole, precariously close to his stomach. Without thinking, your own knife flies to his neck just as it slips from his fingers into the river, breaking the calm surface of the water with no sound.

Hurt flashes across his expression before his eyes slant dangerously, tilting your knife further towards his neck, pressing it into the unscathed, fragile skin covering his throat. You hear yourself let out a childish sound before yanking it away, or at least try to.

Leon’s grip stays strong, fingers curling even more, drawing a thin rivulet of blood you’ve seen him cough up far too many times. With his other hand, he dips a gentle finger in the red, hissing quietly before smearing it in the shape of a cross on his neck.

“So you don’t miss this time,” he says dryly. 

“I wasn’t- why would I-” 

“Do it,” he whispers, voice dropping an octave lower as his face hardens. “It has to be me.”

“You’re not leaving,” you insist, trying to pull the knife from his grasp. “I can’t let you die!”

“I’m already dying,” he says softly, a sad smile adorning his face. “You didn’t think medicine would fix it all, did you? Besides, you said it yourself, didn’t you? Only one.”

“And it can be you!” you insist. “You’re not listening!”

“There’s nothing to listen to, sweetheart,” he replies, dropping his hand to cup your cheek, staring into your gaze longingly, honeyed eyes sparkling with pain.

“I’ll kill myself!” you blurt out, pulling away from his touch. “I-I can’t live without you.”

“And your siblings? Your family won’t make it,” he says gently. “They’ll be gone.”

Your thoughts are everywhere but home right now. “It can be different.”

“Fine.” Leon looks up to ponder the night sky, and you make the mistake of relaxing your hand, letting the knife rest loosely in your fingers near his chest. He notices this, those keen, sharp eyes and that smart, beautiful mouth curving up.

He does not grimace when your blade, still in your hand, plunges into his stomach, straining under the effort of burying the knife deep into his skin. His blood paints your hand a sickening shade of crimson, dripping from where your bodies connect. 

You can’t bring yourself to remove your fingers, frozen with shock. Leon lets out a fractured exhale, and through his parted lips you can see the ocean of ruby washing his teeth.

He collapses onto you, forcing you to collapse to the ground, laying him down on the dead foliage, where you had both tread mere hours ago, talking about your futures and how it would be the ideal, perfect life.

But now here he is, sprawled on rotting leaves, strawberry blonde hair fanning out in an ever-spreading pool of crimson, drenching your clothes, but you don’t care.

You press yourself closer to him, holding him like a child in your arms, the world around you fading into a distant whisper, leaving only the sound of his breath - shallow, yet steady, like the gentle flow of a tide. 

The light in his eyes flicker, a candle fighting against the dark, wax dripping down its body similar to the way blood runs down his body, painting his figure in a slick, reflective liquid that shines the moon back at you.

“Leon,” you whisper, trying to bring him back to you, chanting his name into the crook of his neck, where you had felt the tip of your blade press, kissing the hurt away.

“I’ll always love you, little bird,” he mumbles, glassy eyed, blood going cold, seeping from everywhere, coating your skin, quickly drying into crumbling material. 

And when he’s finally gone, after the minutes have stretched into hours, upon days in which the sunshine bathes his skin in a holy glow, the mockingjays chirp a hollow, solemn tune before the forest goes silent.

One gives the warning call, but you do not move. You can feel the hovercraft shielding you from the cheery sun, providing shade for you and the cold body in your hands.

For all the talk of killing him first, it seems he has killed you first, just by leaving you alone. And perhaps you will see him when they allow you mercy.

Why should they give you mercy? This is what you are thinking when your fingers find the blade. You hear Claudis Templesmith frantically calling to the hovercraft to do something, anything, but no one can stop you.

You have already been declared the winner. There is no one to harm your family. No one to harm your hunting partner, who awaits your return eagerly, but there will be no return. And, some selfish part of you knows that you’ll already be dead, unable to care if they die.

The blade slips into your skin effortlessly, as if knowing that this has always been its true purpose, knowing it is finally home, nestled in your body.

You lie beside your fallen lover, acknowledging it when he’s gone seems cruel yet inevitable, tracing circles on his still chest, as you had when you had slept together in the cave. The memory seems faint, distant, even, as if it had happened years ago, not days.

Your life disappears with your breath. The last thing you can remember doing is curling your fingers around Leon’s, entwined forever, captured in the scene of your death.

Destined to always reap what you sow.

[anemoiashifts]

humanizing your desired reality.

made one of these months ago on tiktok so im remastering it for here (˵•̀⤙•́˵)૭

harry potter ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ getting up early for class.

✧ working with dangerous objects / spells.

✧ navigating schools layout.

✧ living beside a forest with potentially dangerous beings.

✧ school being linked to multiple (students) deaths.

✧ pulling all nighters to study for exams & homework.

✧ being separated from non-magic folk.

✧ seemingly strict with large punishment.

marvel ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ putting life at risk.

✧ unreliable scheduling.

✧ seeing friends, family & people getting injured.

✧ the balancing of two lives.

✧ always feeling like something is coming / something always being after you.

✧ lack of (openness in) therapy

✧ inability to open up without endangering loved ones.

supernatural ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ endangering self & others.

✧ survivors guilt.

✧ lack of permanent home & space — always moving & traveling.

✧ little to no personal space.

✧ little time to mourn d3ath.

✧ being on call 24/7

✧ little sense of security or safety.

hunger games ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ being exposed to death & violence so young.

✧ starvation & dehydration.

✧ weaponizing your loved ones.

✧ physical & emotional stress / trauma.

✧ possible imposture syndrome.

✧ heavy surveillance, always being watched.

✧ never being able to predict what's going to happen.

✧ never being able to 100% trust the people around you.

the walking dead ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ never knowing when "the end" is coming.

✧ injury, infection.

✧ watching yourself & others deteriorate & not being able to do anything about it.

✧ abandoning your home & shelter.

✧ lack of stable / scarce food & water supply.

✧ the smell.

✧ discomfort of bodily horror.

stranger things ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ the stigma of therapy / asking for help.

✧ dealing with virtually unknown creatures.

✧ knowingly endangering yourself on your own or simply by association.

✧ fear of the unknown.

✧ the feeling of "never ending" & not knowing what else is coming.

✧ managing school onto of saving the world.

✧ the adjustment of not having modern technology

american horror story ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

— mixture of / general for all seasons

✧ never knowing what's coming.

✧ having to cope with supernatural.

✧ never truly being alone.

✧ possibly never getting answers.

✧ not being believed.

✧ loved ones / friends turning against you.

✧ lack of evidence.

✧ people dismissing your experiences.

✧ dying & being attached to a space, never allowing you to leave.

✧ bodily horror.

fame dr ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

✧ constantly having eyes on you, being judged.

✧ lack of privacy.

✧ social pressure.

✧ stalkers & paparazzi.

✧ not being able to do things that you're used to — target shopping, out to dinner , going on vacation — without attracting groups of people.

✧ being a safety hazard.

✧ being seen as a character or brand instead of a person.

✧ lack of free time.

✧ words being twisted.

✧ little sympathy towards you, dismissal of problems.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hiiii :) okay so this kinda deviates from your prompt list but doesn’t Yano?

Wandanat x r where r has been in a bad relationship and her period was always something that caused her to get in trouble, r would fear Wanda and nat seeing her on her period, but it’s now painfully obvious bc she’s leaked on her suit. One of them mention it and that caused r to have a panic attack and get so caught in her own mind she reacts instinctively to protect themselves but the girls are there to comfort and love their gf

~ a writer you follow 🕯️

Period Panic

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: After hiding her period from her girlfriends due to past relationships, what happens when you leak on your suit during a mission?

TW: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks, period / blood, canon typical violence, non sexual nudity, past trauma, flinching, crying

A/n I love this idea. I hope I did it justice. I am happy to explore any requests that aren’t on my prompts list as long as they follow my do’s and don’ts so I’m happy to write it. It was quite fun to write :) Also would you like to be 🕯anon? (So I can know when its you) Im very excited to get a request from a writer a follow (I only ever really follow my favourite writers so it means a lot)

Standing in your bathroom you quelled the anxiety rising in your chest. Sure, Wanda and Natasha had always been amazing. They were by far the best girlfriends you could ever ask for.

But that didn’t stop the fear you felt at the idea of them finding out. Past relationships had ingrained fears in you that were hard to shake. As a child your period was simply a fact of life. Something you would deal with and move on. However, after your last long-term relationship you began to fear it. Your partner had made snide remarks, insults and mean comments whenever you expressed anything to do with that time of the month.

At first you simply had brushed it off. However, as time went on, they had only seemed to become more aggressive in their actions. Eventually, by the time it ended you were afraid of that time of the month. The unbothered feelings you had towards your period were gone, replaced with a deep-rooted fear of inadequacy and disgust for yourself.

A knock broke you from your thoughts and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Detka?” It was Natasha, most likely back from training and wanting a shower.

“Y-yes?” You cursed yourself for the waver in your voice, knowing as a trained spy she wouldn’t miss it.

“Are you ok my sweet?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, I'll be out in a minute.” You called slipping on that mask easily.

“Ok love.” Nat said and you sighed softly in relief. Maybe she hadn’t realised

Quickly you went to your hidden stash of period supplies. You didn’t want Wanda or Natasha to ever know when your period was so everything you needed was kept hidden. Pulling the pad from where it was tucked inside the centre of a spare toilet roll in a small cupboard you stuck it in your underwear as quietly as possible. Shoving the wrapper in your pocket to dispose of later you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. Making sure you had left no blood or evidence before leaving.

As you entered the bedroom you caught a glimpse of Wanda pulling off her shirt as Natasha smiled at you and took your place in the bathroom for a shower.

“How are you this morning my lovebug?” Wanda asked and you smiled.

“Im good. Are you ready for the mission?” You asked and Wanda sighed.

“I wish we could just stay here and cuddle.” She said and you nodded.

“Me too.”

“We better get changed into our suits the jet leaves soon.” Nat said leaving the bathroom in record time. She had a towel around her as she grabbed her suit and retreated back to the bathroom to change. Wanda nodded and grabbed her own suit, slipping it on in the corner of the bedroom. Once Nat left the bathroom you took her place and changed. Wanda shot Nat a confused look, normally you had to issues getting changed in the same room as them. Nat shrugged and decided to keep a close eye on you for the mission.

In the bathroom you looked at the pads wings that were visible on the outside of your undies with disgust. Shaking you head you pulled on your suit. It was rather tight but snug. The light grey colour was a risk, but you had no alternative. You simply prayed the pad would be enough and left the bathroom.

Wanda was sat on the bed watching Nat slip all her weapons into her suit before they stood and the three of you left to head to the jet. Tony, Steve and Bucky were waiting as the three of you got on board.

“Geez i almost thought i got stood up.” Tony said and shoved Nat toward the cockpit. “Do your thing Romanoff.” He grinned and Nat glared at him.

“Stark.” She said warningly. Tony put his hands up in a surrender and she suppressed a smirk. Although she was quite soft behind closed doors with you and Wanda, she had a reputation to uphold in the compound. Nat settled herself in the pilot seat and the jet rumbled to life.

The mission itself was rather simple. Tony and Steve had cleared the west wing of the base while Natasha, Wanda and you had done the east. After taking out a handful of agents and grabbing the hard drive of intel that shield needed, Nat holstered her gun and her and Wanda walked behind you as you made you way back to the jet. Wanda’s eyes fell on your ass as you walked. Widening slightly at the red patch between your legs.

You had never been one to make a big deal of your period with them, but Wanda didn’t think you appreciate it if the boys saw. Wanda nudged Natasha whose eyes were scanning the trees as you walked to the jet which was in the woods near the base. Natasha followed Wanda’s eyes and nodded in agreement. The two girls stopped their movement and as you realised, they were no longer following you, you turned around swiftly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in high alert now scanning the trees for a threat.

“Honey.” Nat said with a soft tone.

“Sweetheart here take this my love.” Wanda said handing you a jacket.

“W-why?” You asked starting to worry.

“Love your periods escaping a little.” Wanda said trying to make you laugh so you didn’t feel bad. At the look you had on your face Wanda began to get worried.

Your eyes widened and your breathing picked up. Wandas hand still held out the jacket, but you made no move to reach for it. Nat studied you every move as your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. Fingers trembling slightly. Your breathing was now short as ragged as you struggled to get the air into your lungs. Your chest felt tight, and your heart began to race in your ears. Tears dripped down your cheeks and for a moment the two girls froze, unsure of what was happening.

Before they could react, you began to apologise profusely. Seemingly afraid of what they would do. Nat carefully took a step towards you, but you flinched back before your legs gave out and you curled up on the floor. Nat soon became aware of how exposed you were and simply shoved down her feelings. Gently she picked you up in her arms, unbothered as her suit was black and didn’t show blood stains. Wanda went ahead on high alert to protect the both of you. You sobbed and buried your face in Nat’s chest.

“It's ok love, we aren’t mad.” Nat said rubbing her hand up and down your back. She whispered words of reassurance and began to exaggerate her breathing as she realised how pale you were begging to look.

“Breathe with me my love. In deep for four. One…two…three… four. And hold…. Two … three … four. And out… two … three…four. You're doing so good for me lovebug.” She said coaching you through the panic attack. Once back on the jet Nat took you to one of the small rooms and sat on the floor with you still tucked into her.

Wanda sat next to Nat and rubbed your back as you continued to cry into Natasha’s neck. The two girls began to get a hold on your breathing. Still talking softly and reassuring you. Wanda had told Steve to pilot the jet as he was just as qualified as Natasha just not as smooth. Soon you found your head in Nat’s lap curled into her stomach as your legs rested in Wanda’s lap. Wanda drew shapes on your thigh as your breathing went back to normal. You pulled a hand to your eyes and began scrubbing at it harshly to get rid of the tears. Nat took your wrist in her hand and pulled it away from your face gently.

“None of that now love.” She said and pressed kisses to your knuckles. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at how they cared for you. Tentatively you asked.

“You're not m-mad?” You said and Nat frowned.

“Never my sweet.” Wanda said and Nat looked at you.

“Sweetheart we will never, ever be mad at you for the things your body does. We love you just the way you are. Period or no period.” Nat said pressing a kiss to your forehead. You buried your face in her stomach again.

“Thank you.” You mumbled into her skin and Wanda chuckled.

“Anytime sweetness.” She cooed.

MASTERLIST

[xstrawberryshiftsx]

haiii I was wondering if you could talk about your zombie DR !! :3

ive thought about shifting to one but I always end up thinking I'd be too scared too !! (´-﹏-`；)

HIII THANKS FOR THE ASK!!

I have two main zombie drs:

Is my zombie dr that has been going on for the last 7-9 years. This one has a lot more lore so I’ll link the post xx

this one I haven’t talked about but it’s a more CR like zombie world where I’m me but in America alone <3

I’m making a post about it soon! I’ve scripted a lot so it’s not to bad for me here’s a few things to help:

I handle gore extremely well

Im good at processing things healthily

I handle trauma well

Im never put in the position where I have to kill or dangerously harm anyone

I dont get scared easily

I’m never badly hurt

I find supplies easily

I have a lot more so send another ask if you want to know more about the zombies or my s/os or friends <3

[crystlizabeth]

Dangerously Yours.

Paring: Carl Grimes x Blackfem!Smith!Reader

Paring: Negan Smith & BlackDaughter!Reader

Summary: You two where enemies, but there was just something that drew you two each other, but a war was in the making.

Warning: cursing, mentions of childhood trauma and abuse.

A/n: Carl lives au!! And im gonna add some songs that came out not during TWD time like or after 2013 i think! This is kinda of a self insert, This might be multiple parts, I noticed its turned into a Negan Smith x Daughter reader along with Carl x reader so enjoy.

The first time you met him he caught an additude with you trying to take some batteries out of your hand, it didn’t go well for him you grabbed his wrist twisting it telling him to fuck off. There were more instances when you would go and he somehow always pissed you off but it made sense you and Carl Grimes where enemies. So where your fathers you didn’t quite know what had all happed but you did know people died, some of your people and a few of his.

Now you where on your way back to Alexandria for a pick up you went along this time to see Eden, she was a decent girl but also a girl your age it wad hard to find friends in this day in age. Eden was closed of and was always followed by the one and only one eyed grimes, but that didn’t stop you from trying to get to know her and one of those ways was music, may it be mp3, cds or even vinyls.

“I found this mix tape a while back, its a costume one and actually really good music.” You said to Eden as you walked with her towards the supply house.

“Any songs you can recognize?” She asked taking the tape from your hand.

“Not really only a few like, Elvis, Hozier, Taylor swift, i hear alot of her music in the mixes i find.” You ended with a small laugh.

“I like Taylors music, Elvis’s pretty good to” she said with a small smile.

You two shared similar music taste even rap, you two enter the supply room running into Negan, Rick, Carl and a gal with glasses.

“Lookie here, making friends are we?” Your dad asked his usual grin on his face.

“Yeah you could say just trading some music but i need some batteries.” You said shrugging your shoulders.

Rick moved out of the way as the lady with glasses handed you 4 batteries “I only need two don’t worry about it. Unless,” you look over at Eden., “you need any?” She shook her head you nodded and handed two of the batteries back to her.

“Thank you..” you spoke lightly waiting for her name.

“Oh, its Olivia.” She said she voice shaken.

“Well thank you Olivia.” You said then turning to your dad.

“Not giving her a hard time are you?”

Negan raised his eyebrow giving you a cheeky grin “Not at all this time they actually have there shit in order.” He spoke wiggling around the list in his hand.

Nodding you left with Eden heading back to the truck with Carl running behind you two.

“Eden where are you going?” He asked.

She held the bag up in her hand that was filled with music “Trading music.” She answered simply.

He didnt say anything but continued to follow you two, you could feel his eyes burning you in the back of your head he watched every move you made.

You and Eden had gone through a crate you brought she had taken out a few albums and surprise mix tapes you liked to call them. She took ‘I love you.’ The neighborhood, ‘Anti’ Rhianna, ‘AM’ arctic monkeys and ‘Lungs’ Florance and the machine. You didn’t take any from her she didn’t have many good options so you just lended them to her.

“Really you want nothing back.” Carl voiced from behind you.

Giving him a glare “yeah theres no reason for me to take what little music she has, what are you even doing here doing you had somthing better to do cyclops.”

He glared at you “good to know your an asshole like your dad.” He spat back, he didnt appreciate the nickname but you weren’t a fan when he called you a bitch last week so your really didn’t give two shits.

“At least my dad doesn’t stand around like a bitch between his legs last time I checked you did the dirty work.” You said walking past him.

He turned to say something only for his dad to stop him. You only scoffed turning away.

A few weeks later you saw him again but this time he came by one of the trucks, he shot a few of your fathers men. When that whole mess was cleaned up Laura came and got you saying ‘your dad needs your help.’

You walked down the hall meeting Your Dad, Carl and Daryl out side on the little balcony. Carl didn’t have his bandage on this time covering his eye, Carl put his head was down after meeting your eyes.

“Whats up?” You asked.

Negan smiled “I need a favor Sweetheart, Carl here needs a little tour but i need to fix some shit the he fucked up. Keep and eye on him yeah?” He spoke looking at Carl.

“Sure just us or..?”

“Just you two, get to know each other and dont kill him, I for one actually like him unlike you.” He said laughing a little knowing the tension between you both.

“If he keeps the attitude to a minimum.. personally not a fan of it unlike you.” You say crossing your arms moving more of you weight to one side of your body.

With that they left leaving you and Carl by the railing watching over the workers, a few kids running around playing with one another.

“Is he actually your dad?” Carl asked breaking the silence. You weren’t surprised why he asked you, you two didn’t look alike and many obvious aspects.

You looked at him, his eye focused on you looking you up and down and searching for any kind of reaction. You watched as his eyes finally met yours again.

“No..” you said admitting it to him.

He tilted his head a little as a way of say ‘What’.

“He found me at the beginning of this, what about 3 years ago? Put it simply my biological father left me to fend for myself, fucked up right?” You said walking towards a stair way sitting down on the steps.

Carl stared down at you, looking up at him through your curls letting a laugh out from the look if his face.

“Are you serious..” he asked sitting down with you.

You looked over at him, “Yeah but my father had never actually been a good person. He was far from a good parent. He was a selfish, abusive man, he wasn’t fit for kids non the less 3 girls.”

Carl seemed interested. “You have Sisters?”

“Had.”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t know.” He said.

You leaned back on the stairs “Why would you? We aint friends.”

He nodded turning his head looking straight. He seemed vulnerable almost. But so where you you just opened up, trauma dumped to some guy you haven’t been able to stand for months. But in that moment there was a kind if peace and understanding.

“Why did you stick around after knowing all the bad things he’s done?” Carl asked looking back at you.

“All the bad.. nobody is good or bad. Especially in this, it survival.” You scoffed, he tried to makes his people out to be what they weren’t.

“He killed good people, friends, one of them had a kid on the way!”

You looked at him your eyes nerow slightly “Your little group took out an whole outpost of more than 50 people. Many of them had family and one of the women there was carrying a child.” You spoke sharply.

“Your people, your friends aren’t so clean of blood. Nor are you.” You finished harshly.

He did say anything else. Only looked back at his hands fidgeting with them in irritation.

He knew you where right, but he also knew you weren’t clean of blood either nobody was. There is no good or bad anymore just survivors.

You both eventually got up and you showed him around. How things work, people had jobs they earned money and they got what they need. That this was our normal, even you worked did chores to earn your keep.

You two continued to talk to each other, getting to know each other you never talked about either of your peoples. There was a spark for only knowing him and hating him for the past few months he understood you. They way his eyes lingered on you as you talked how he took in every word you where saying. What was that feeling that lingered as he left the feeling of wanting to see him again.

As weeks went by you two spoke over walkies, nit the safest options but it worked. You hadn’t let anyone this close since Negan, funny how you wanted nothing to do with this boy but now you did. He made you laugh over stupid things, gave you good advice as you did with him. He heard you cry for the first time, you even snuck out to see him one time showing him a little abandoned house by the river it was the first time in long time you both had fun.

He was feeling it two, his heart fluttered at the way you smiled, how he always held eye contact taking in the sight of you as it may be the last. You did the same but he never caught you looking at him like the way he did you. The hard truth you knew was that you two are enemies, maybe not you two but your Dads, your people.

But then shit hit the fan.

You didn’t get trapped in a sanctuary when they attacked the place, you watched as the walkers surrounded the building the echos of gun shots rang through your ears as you watched in horror as rick started to shot him down.

The only thing you could do is try and reach a different outpost. Warn them, but then you where caught.

He didn’t look familiar which scared you even more, you quicky grabbed your knife cutting his arm. He let go of you making you fall back only for someone else to grab you.

“The little bitch cut me!” The one man yelled you turned around quickly ready to strike again thats when you saw Rick and Daryl.

Your heart dropped, you where surrounded. Rick took a step toward you his hands visible “Dont Fucking come near me!” You yelled.

Rick put is gun down on the ground “Relax I don’t wanna hurt you.” His voice was calm.

“Then fuck off!”

“Where are you gonna go.” Daryl spoke.

You eyes shot over to him, you didn’t answer him. He was right though where were you gonna go, to an outpost you didn’t even know where it was at.

“Y/n we just wanna help you. I told Carl you wouldn’t get hurt.” Rick said.

Why would that matter?

“Please. Just come with us.”

You just looked at him, dumfounded.

Was it stupid yes, but you went with them handing over your weapons and walked to the gates. As they open they looks you got looks of horror from them. Rick pulled on my arm slightly letting go when I flinched. He took me into a house there sat a few people talking about what to do next.

But the all stop once their eyes landed on me.

“Sit.” Daryl said pointing at the couch his tone serious.

You where scared what did they want with you what was their plan, why where you not dead, locked up. You picked at your finger s peeling the skin off them drowning out everything around you. What the fuck is happening.

A hand fell on both of your hands you quickly looking up you saw him. His face filled with concern, he spoke but you never heard what he said the way he brows frowned trying to reach you. You began to break as both of his hand touched your arms squeezing them slightly wanting and answering out of you.

“Why am I here...” your voice tender and cracked.

“I..” Carl started but never finished he just looked at you.

“Why the hell am I here.” You asked again.

He took a deep breath “Help us end this.”

You stared at him, help them, help them. Why would you help them.

“Get away from me… Get AWAY.” You shouted pushing him away.

He stood back as you stood up, your hands gripping harshly on your hair.

“Your fucking kidding me right?! What makes you think I would help you, help these people! You know how crazy you sound.” You slightly laugh the frustration in your voice very clear. These people wanted your help. They just destroyed the only place you called home.

“Please Y/n, please.. hear us out.” Carl said.

“Your acting a fool, you just attacked my people, my home! Theres more than just Negan in there theres kids! Family, old people! What the fuck is wrong with you guys!” You yelled. “And- and you know that.. you saw it, so did he!” You finished pointing at Daryl.

They all knew that.

“What makes you think you can trust me anyway? What it your head makes you think I wouldn’t betray you.” You said your arms falling to your sides.

“Because your the one that let me out of that cell, made sure I had a clear way out.” Daryl spoke up.

You looked at him, he knew.

“And I trust you.” Carl said. “They may not but you help out friend and you’ve earned my trust, my respect.”

You shook your head, you wanted to cry, to cry like a little kid. Carl came to you again slowly pulling you in for a slight hug. Something sincere he cared for you he may have only truly known your for few weeks but he wanted you safe but with that came a cost. The talks over that walkie you had with him you could careless who herd them. Carl had fallen for a girl who he couldn’t have with out a cost.

“Y/n your something to believe In again, you could change things. Help your people.” Rick spoke.

You wanted to help your people, they deserved it they deserved to be safe. To have a life beyond the sanctuary. Alexandria was a safe place but so was your home they where good people in there people who don’t know how to protect themselves.

“But you’ll have to go behind, Negan. Lie to him.” Michonne finished.

Your head snaped at her, “I cant, i… i wont! I’ll just lie to you tell him your plans.” You said trying to get them to not believe you.

“If you do you’ll only hurt yourself…”

For my people.. but the cost was to betray a man who would do anything for you. You caught Carls eye he gave you a pleading look. He practically begged you with that look, betray your Dad for a boy.. for a boy and peace between people.

“If i betray you, I hurt myself.. if i betray my people, my family, I betray my dad, my dad is very important to me..”

“More important than your people and peace dont you want more for those family’s. For us.” Carl said, him whispering the last part only for you to hear.

For us..

You wanted that more than anything..

“Okay..”

So you helped them, you got back in through a old drain the led into the basement, you knew people would have noticed you where gone or maybe not.

When you saw Simon and Dwight they nodded at you figured you where out hidden in your room. Stupid men.

But you also knew Dwight was working with them as well, he was a traitor too.

Days had passed they finally cleared the walkers out. The plan was to attack hilltop but there was a twist, Negan on the other hand didn’t want you to have any part of it he stated “I need you here, with out people.” So you stayed.

You stayed back with your people started cleaning up putting things back together, when they came back your dad wasn’t to be seen.

“Wheres my dad?” You asked walking up to simon, he shared a look with Dwight looking back at you.

“Someone ran him off the road, all we found was blood when we finally found his car…” Simon said his tone quiet.

All you could do was stare at him “what.. is he.”

They nodded, the two men shared a look again.

Something isn’t right. They’re lying, they gotta be he couldn’t just be killed that easily.

After that Simon took charge, he seemed pleased with himself it was sickening. He bossed everyone around hell even threatened you that if you didn’t keep your mouth shut there would be ‘consequences’. It was just crazy to you, how easily he forgot his place.

But even now you had a job. So you did it you told them what happened leaving a note in the woods for them to find.

When you got back, There stood Negan. He turned to look at you giving you a smile.

“Hiya Sweetheart, how ya been.” His voice sweet giving you a hug.

“They said you where dead.” You said in a whisper only for him to hear.

He nodded looking at you back to Simon who was staring you down. You already knew he was fucked but lets make it worse, not here though. Negan wanted to talk anyway.

You sat on the couch in his room waiting for him, he startled you out of your trace as he placed his hand on the side if your head kissing you on the top of the head.

“Now tell me what the shit has he all done..?” He asked coming around sitting next to you.

“He pretty much took over your place bossing people around, and that attack on hilltop went south from what I heard, oh! He also threatened me” you said.

He turned his head to look at me. “ Do I dare ask what he said..” his voice went dark the look he held could kill.

You told him you may have exaggerated it a bit but you could careless the son of a bitch deserved it. His actions has consequences.

After that conversation you just sat there with him your head laying on his shoulder your arms wrapped around his arm.

“Im sorry..” you spoke softly, you could feel your throat swell up as you hold back tears.

“Its not your fault, Princess..” its been a minute since he’s called you princess, hell you where. You may not be his blood but your the only child he’s ever had, you where his daughter, his little girl.

The day finally came, but you weren’t standing with them you stood with Carl not your Father. The sound of that familiar call rang through your ears as everyone raised there gun.

“Well damn Rick, lookie here.” Negans voice echoed through a radio.

“Pegged again, pegged so very hard.”

Everyone moved around looking for them “ I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush.” You could hear a slight chuckle after.

“Why don’t you step out and face us!” Rick yelled out as he looked around looking for any kind of movement.

“Oh I am everywhere Rick.” He said.

You closed your eyes settling your breath you felt a hand on your back, opening your eyes looking to you left you saw carl. He gave you a nod trying to give you some kind of comfort. You could hear Negan he went on talking about Eugene and Dwight, going to to Gabriel. Then he said your name.

“Where is my daughter because I would love to know. Kind fucked up how your little psycho of a son came in one day and now my daughter is gone. You happen to know anything about that.” His voice was serious, you had been gone since yesterday.

Rick looked back at you, you shook your head telling him not to say a word.

“But here we go, congratulations Rick.” Was the last thing he said before he started a count down.

They came out starting to fire only for their weapons to back fire on them.

Every thing happend to fast.

Soon enough they had surrendered, the saviors where on their knees hands in the air. Rick and Negan ran off, you looked around for them Carl and Rosita following behind me a little.

You finally got up to the hill you saw them standing in-front of each other talking, Negans face fell looking like he was going to cry at what Rick said. For a moment they stood there. Then it happened.

“NO!” You screamed, you went to run towards them only for Rosita to grab you holding you tightly.

“NO YOU LIER! YOU SAID YOU WERNT GONNA KILL HIM!” You Sobbed, struggling against Rosita and she tried calming you down.

“You fucking Lier! Please he’s all i have, please.” You begged your body slightly collapsing in Rositas Arms Carl came in front of you helping Rosita turn you so you did have to see him bleed out.

“You fucking people lied. I trusted you.” You cried.

“I didn’t know, Y/n I didn’t know.” Carl said his hands cupping your face making you looks at him.

Your sobs continue, As you fell into his arms. Rosita let go of you only staying behind you. The only thing in the field you could hear was you sobbing, Carls gentle tone trying to calm you. His hand gently rubbing your back, your hands covered your face your head resting on Carls shoulder.

“Save him.”

You pushed of Carls shoulder looking up. The widow started to do the same thing you had just done, Michonne holding her back as she yelled at rick, begging him to keep Negan dead.

“We have to make it right.” Maggie sobbed.

A year had now passed, you hadn’t been able to see Negan they wouldn’t let you. But what they did do it tell him that you had helped them, not by much but you did.

“Why would they do that..” you asked, Carl looked up at you.

“In not sure.. ask my dad why he did.” He said, you only glared at him.

“Common babe, you cant hold that anger with him forever especially that your my girlfriend.” He laughed slightly standing up from the step turning to you pulling you up.

“Its called a grunge, and yeah I can. They go on telling Negan i betrayed him and i don’t even get to explain my self to him.” You spoke the irritation in your voice quite visible.

Carl sighed, “I know Y/n..” he pulled you in by your hands.

“Talk to Michonne, you like her at lest.” Carl said giving you a kiss.

So you where gonna do just that but first you had to find her. When you did she was with Judith on the porch Rosita with her. Rosita gave you a smile as she left.

Michonne looked at you giving you a small smile “Hi Y/n how are you?” She said.

“Im fine but i have a question.” You spoke, she nodded letting you continue.

“Why wont you let me see him” befor she could speek you cut her off “I know i ask this way to often but you told him everything i could attest give him an exclamation, you just letting him believe that what i did was for the worst, so please. Wouldn’t you want Carl to tell you if that had happened to him not just to stay quiet and believe he did it to hurt you.” You finished.

Michonne signed “You’ll have five minutes.”

Your face light up “Thank you, Thank you!”

She grabbed Judith giving her to a friend as she walked you to the basement, Carl and Rosita followed you two and you walked down the stairs she told you to wait.

“You have a Visitor.” She said before waving you in.

It was dark but you could see him, and he looked like shit. “Five minutes.” Michonne said walking over to the door keeping it open but she walked up them.

The silence between you two lingered for a minute, after all that begging you couldn’t get your self to say anything but when he did your heart dropped.

“Well kid, hows your new life, boyfriend, freedoms.” He said harshly.

“I-its fine, can I explain..” you said.

He stood up moving to the bars looking at you. “What that you stabbed me in the back yeah I got that.”

“Dont be a dick-”

“Really your gonna call me the dick?” He scoffed.

“I never meant you any harm i wanted what was best for our people.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything, his eyes never left you but he was mad and he had every right to be. You had all of his trust, he would’ve done anything for you and you betrayed him. Everything he had done for you was thrown out the window after that stunt those 4 years were practically all for nothing.

“I know your mad at me and you have every right to be, I just wanted our people to see more the kids in the sanctuary to have more of a life beyond that, here those kids have a playground more people to become friends with.” You said, you watched as he turned around midway through you talking, he didn’t want to look at you.

You took a breath in bitting your lip to stop you self from crying, you crossed your arms holding your self in a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in a year man common say something, yell at me something anything.” You spoke in a whimper your lip trembling.

Nothing.

“Please don’t hate me.” Your tears fell down your cheeks.

“Your all i have left to family, I never thought I would call someone dad again let alone a man that actually cared for me..” you cried out your head falling down looking that the floor.

The tears continue to fall down your face making your cheeks glisten. He was your dad, maybe it was a cycle with you to make them hate you at some point.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to hate you.” He said quietly not turning around.

“Then why wont you look at me..” you asked not even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

He sighed deeply turning around “That better?”

You nodded not sure what to say next, things may never be the same again but you do know that is he doesn’t hate you, you didn’t have to worry about the fear of him never wanting to see you again.

[rookfeatherrambles]

So many ideas. Dumping them here for a pinned comment to keep track. When these have AO3 links, I'll list them here The Angel that Cries Ink (Jmart, Jonelias) Jon has been locked under the Magnus Institute for 200 years, waiting for one person. Martin Blackwood. IN PROGRESS)

Bound by Spider's Thread (Jmart, time travel, somewhat fix it, No sex, Annabelle asks Martin to kill a bitch for her in exchange for saving Jon's life somewhere else) WIP)

The Beast in your Heart (La bete dans coeur) Jonelias, Eventual jmart, Hunt!Jon, Kai!jon. Jon finds out about the watcher's crown ritual and chooses the nuclear option. To throw himself at another fear. He is subsequently transformed, and elias is not nice to jon when he finds out what he's done. Dead dove, very dark, very smutty WIP)

Chiaroscuro (Jmart, timsasha, Artist/Muse au. Jon is a infamous artist who paints the most captivating art but has remained out of the spotlight. A medical diagnosis makes him decide to retire, but he's going to do one final piece. Enter Martin, and Jon's inevitable falling in love with his final muse, no sex, ace jon (WIP

Under skies and sea (Vast Jon. No sjhip. Jon is becoming a sea bird. this is problematic for many reasons) WIP)

Sable Island AU (Jmart, Foggyskies, Jon is a low profile environmental researcher that takes a job on a remote island studying seabirds. He starts to become one, and chronicals his journey. Then Martin, the sun of Peter Lukas, one of two men that are wagering over Jon's life, crashes the supply boat onto the island. They reflect on life, and death (WIP

The Storm Singer : (Jmart, Jonpeter, Foggyskies) Jon is the last siren in the bay and he's sworn to destroy the man who ruined his life. Peter is the fisherman turned monster hunter that massacred Jon's people. He wants Jon dead because he killed his wife. Martin and Simon are also there and they are in love! (not with eachother) Sirens and Sailors! Smutty (WIP

The Lonely Bride: Jonpeter forced marriage. Martin refused to run away with jon in s4 and Peter offered him an alternative way out. Dark, exactly what it says on the tin. smutty (WIP

The Hunter's Stag (Jonpeter, fantasy au. Faerie au.) Jon is a magic white stag that was cursed by a faerie king, to run until he's caught and killed. Peter is the hunter that doesn't want to do that. They become friends. And then more. (WIP

Wintergreen AU: (noship. Jon is 8, has a boat, and is going to america. he gets caught in bad weather and picked up by the Tundra. Now there's a child on board his ship and Peter Lukas doesn't know what to do with him. Silly, lighthearted fun i guess. WIP)

I'm not your Protagonist (I'm not even my own): Jmart, Jonelias) Jon wakes up somewhere else and realizes he's not happy. He does his best to figure out why. (EVERYONE HAS TRAUMA AND GETS THERAPY FIC) WIP)

YEOMYTIM (Your eyes on mine, your Teeth in me _Jondaisy, WIP)

The Hearthwitch's Cat (Jmart, Fantasy) Jon is a powerful arch mage that learns a terrible secret and for his safety, becomes a cat. Martin is the hearthwitch he chooses to adopt as his owner. Fluffy, romance, silly fantasy shenanigans (WIP

The red strings of fate (Can go fuck themselves) Jonelias, eugenics au) Jon is someone who never ever wanted to have a partner, but the system matches him to some bastard name Elias Bouchard. Jon's only way out of having children (legally) is to be a holy terror of a wife. Shenanigans ensue. Smutty, fluffy, light hearted i guess. Elias is not evil and Jon is ace spec WIP)

Non TMA stuff:

Dawn of Shadows (Wip, fantasy)

Everyone loves Fucked Up Houses :) (wip, horror)

That weird creepypasta thing, (wip, horror romance)

A real War (wip, Everymanhybrid)

Mabel vs the Grim Reaper (wip, Gravity Falls)

Grimoire Falls (horror fantasy, gravity falls au)

If I think of more of these, I will add them!

ALSO IF YOU ARE CURIOUS, SEND ME AN ASK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT! Seriously yell at me about my ideas please im desperate :))

EDITED 3/29/24

[redstrawbluestraw]

Welcome to my acc!!

My About Me can be found here! Quick info: I go by Mari, I'm 24, currently a full time college student (hence why updates may vary) so please be patient! I'm not dead unless stated so, just slow at posting! About Bendy and Boris: Last Call (my ver of the comic): This version is 16+ (details explained in cut below)

Content Warning: Death, Mentions of death, Light violence and gore (To be updated as the comic continues) ! Short Summary: This version takes place in the 1930’s, where toons of Cel City deal with the crisis of 'the ink illness'. Because of this, many are left with untreated conditions of the illness (skin peeling, "bleeding" ((ink)), dismembered body parts, etc), while others have evacuated into the wild to avoid the disease.

Bendy isn’t too far off from joining the latter group of toons- he has a plan of getting out of the city with his younger brother Boris in order to have days worth living for. Together, with enough money and supplies, they’ll be able to start a new life. One without death, filth, and an untreated asymptomatic version of the ink illness- at least that’s what Bendy tries to convince himself. But only Boris knows about that. And thankfully, nobody will ever find out, as long as the two stick together and don’t befriend anybody along the way. What’s the worst that can happen?

The cut section underneath goes into more content warnings!

- These conditions won't be shown to a graphic degree, but it is worth mentioning to those who feel uncomfortable with that form of content. Please tread with caution. - This comic is intended to have heavy themes such as guilt, loss, trauma (This will be updated as the story progresses) Be mindful that this version would fall under the 16+ Rating, meaning "sex, horror, crime, cruelty, violence, offensive language, and/or self harm in a way that is likely to be harmful to the public good if made available to viewers under 16," according to Disney's rating content - This comic will still have lighthearted moments! But if you are looking for a version of the comic that's equally/on par to the whimsical/shippy nature of the original, then this one is not it!

ALSO THIS IS MORE FOR FUN AND FOR MY LOVE AND JOY FOR THESE CHARAS- MY WORK IS ALWAYS ROUGH AND RARELY POLISHED BC I GET EXCITED TO POST IM SORRY IN ADVANCE !!!!!!!

[sunset-bobby]

9-1-1 rambles pt2 (it’s only 1 am this time)

now that i’m like taking introspective looks into like the 9-1-1 couple’s relationships I think it’s interesting how a lot of the canon couples are bolter x clinger pairings

I mean like the buckleys siblings discussed how maddie’s a bolter and buck is a clinger

chimney is a clinger i mean the whole tatiana thing and then you know boston

i think athena and bobby are a mix of both because in the early stages bobby was bolting and athena was clinging i mean the whole discussion of bobby moving in is an example but as time goes on bobby gets more secure he is a clinger and athena on the cruise and that whole arc was bolter behavior

hen and karen are hard bc they’re both very committed to each other and have had the longest relationship so neither of them are bolting or clinging but in henren begins (idk the actual title ya’ll) we literally see hen leave in the morning post date/hookup but idk if she said goodbye…im not discussing the season 1/2 cheating arc bc that’s just a different scenario but they get mad they reflect they reconcile there’s no one person doing the chasing or the distancing

buck is a clinger who stays dating bolters and even the relationships he ended they were bolters my mans got a type i guess lol…idk i think tommy could be either the restaurant was bolter behavior but once he got the confirmation buck is all in my man stays showing up so i think he has potential to be a clinger but also has self preservation skills and a fear of getting his heartbroken

lastly eddie…ngl i can’t tell u what eddie is doing it really depends on the person (i can make serious points for demisexual/demiromantic eddie diaz) but he’s overall clinging to an idea…i feel like we don’t discuss how like im 75% sure eddie has only ever been in 3 relationships his entire 33 years of life (no judgement in that) so unless he’s had his own slut era the man’s romantic experience is the equivalent of like the youths of today (again no judgement and i am one of those youths) in those 3 1/2 (Kim can be a half) experiences he’s got his idealized life and he’s tryna make it a reality and half way then he’s like wait i like the life but im not really into the person here Ana (my queen i miss you), Marisol and the idea isn’t shannon herself but the family life they almost had

truthfully idk what eddie is bc he’s clinging but bc he’s clinging he’s bolting and right now he’s doing who knows what lmao he’s building a roster i guess

anyway TLDR: everyone’s got their matching pair and eddie’s got the romantic experience of most college students (minus the kid and 1/4 of the trauma)

edit: “he’s attempting to bolt on his relationship with marisol (but not really) because he’s clinging to the idea of his relationship with shannon” my brain finally supplied an example of eddie being both so here

[cypheroo]

The Stories never told before | Garroth Ro'Meave ~☆

"Hi! Could I request a Garroth x reader where the reader is a farmer who has Irene's relic? I think it would be great angst if Garroth, who regularly visited the farmer! Reader, stopped due to his religious trauma and uncomfortable-ness about being around the actual Irene as himself? I am SO ready for Garroth angst, but if this isn't something you're up to, that's perfectly okay! Thanks :))"

Word count : 2,008 words

Trigger warnings : heavy talks of religion and religious trauma. PLEASE read carefully!

AN : IM SORRY ANON the fic isn't exactly what you requested but i had a little bit of a different idea and wanted to run with it! I hope you can still enjoy it! ALSO THIS STORY KINDA TAKES PLACE IN THE BEGINNING OF THE DAIRIES SERIES! THAT WILL EXPLAIN SOME STUFF!

Working day in and day out for these crops was insanely hard, if it wasn't one thing it was something else, if it wasn't your shed door breaking off, it was an issue with the water supply. Today was no different, needing to pull yourself up out of bed, and force yourself to make breakfast before the sun was above the mountains. If only Irene could personally send someone to assist you in this farm. You were always a firm believer in irene and often made offerings to the old statue near your blueberry patch. Irene was an important part of your life, sure you weren't downright obsessed but you did what you were taught, your parents prayed to her and told you stories of her before bed.

You knew of the village not far from where your farm was, you just never made it a choice to visit, instead caring for your animals and crops. But it was this one day that it changed, instead of looking out to an empty forest your eyes were met with hers. Only after a panicked greeting were you able to meet who was the next lord of phoenix drop. She properly introduced herself as lady Aphmau. She was impressed with your work on this farm of yours and was intrigued to find out you weren't a part of her village, but merely lived around it. She offered you a nice deal, a good trade as apparently the farms in phoenix drop did not compare to yours. She wanted to know if she could offer protection, fabrics, and other goods in return for some of the crops you grew, your chickens eggs, and your cows milk.. To which you were surprised at the sudden offer, it sounded amazing, you didn't really need the protection but other goods sounded very tempting. You asked for a day or two to properly think the whole ordeal through. And she obliged with a smile, stating she'd be back in a few days. And there you were left, confused yet very happy over what had just happened.

Though she held her word it didn't explain why the next morning you saw what you could only assume was one of phoenix drops guards patrolling around your land. He was odd, yes he looked capable but he was wearing a full face helmet, hand staying on his sheathed sword and looking extremely alert.

Opening your door today almost made it feel like a repeat of yesterday, you called to the man and waved your arm for him to see, 

“Mornin!” 

“Morning”

“Any reason you're here today? Is lord aphmau with you today?”

“Nope, just doing the rounds this morning”

“Rounds? What do you mean?”

“Lord Aphmau requested we include this farm on are daily and nightly rounds”

You stood there confused, you didn't give her an answer and she was already sending guards to do ‘rounds’ here? That was… you didn't know if it was a good thing or not. Maybe she was trying to somehow force your hand? Maybe she already made her choice and just wanted to give you the illusion of choice? Maybe talking with her wasn't a good idea. Who knows! But before you could keep thinking the man let out a small huff, almost like a chuckle, 

“Tensions are high between us and some other kingdoms, she simply doesn't want anyone innocent to be hurt in some sort of cross fire.”

Those were his only words, your eyes widened softly and your face suddenly felt a little red, was it that easy to see your worry? You quickly nodded and smiled at him. Agreeing and brushing it off. You then cleared your throat and changed the topic, seeking to possibly learn more from this guard.

===

It was usually normal at this time to hear him knock at your door, to see that sweetheart tilt that head of his at you the moment your eyes met what you could only assume to be his. It had been months since that first interaction you both had. Since then you both had talked and joked more each morning and evening. You both talked and got along really well…you could even say you really really liked him. That's why it hurt so much when suddenly he stopped showing up at your doorstep, instead another guard would do the rounds on your farm, which you didn't mind, and at first maybe you thought he just got sick? But after the first week past you really didn't buy that excuse you made for him. What if something happened? What if he was really injured or something? After days of needing to think it through you made the choice to head into town the next morning to check up on him, it was only fair since he usually came to you.

So the next morning you packed some eggs and milk to drop off at the market and headed off to town, careful not to harm anything you had in your arms. You had visited phoenix drop a few times but never stayed too long, usually it was to drop off some of your goods to the market or pick up some of the goods you were entitled to. It was still difficult to walk around phoenix drop as it could be quite confusing with the turns you had to take in order to even be near the guard post, but eventually you were faced with it, after a direction or two from some of the people who actually lived there.

By the time you were there it was nearing midday, spending most of your morning trying to set everything up at the market and go sightseeing around the beauty that was phoenix drop. So you knocked softly once before you realized the door was not only unlocked but very much open and easily allowed anyone access to walk in if needed. So softly you asked for someone as the place looked a little empty. Only to be answered by the voice you knew all too well, garroths.

“[Name]? What do you need?” 

His voice was stern but still held a lot of care, usually you weren't in town so you could see why this would raise a few red flags. But you quickly smiled faintly, 

“I was worried for you! Since you…usually are the one doing the partrole on my farm” you attempted to explain yourself before Garroth nodded,

 "I'm no longer patrolling your area as of a week ago” he explained quite harshly. To which you were taken aback you made a confused and hurt face which seemed to annoy garroth some more, 

“I…have no interest being around someone who follows such religion” 

Those words hurt, considering who they were coming from and how important irene,her story were to you! And now hearing someone you held dear suddenly take offense to something you held so dear? You scoffed, and crossed your arms, 

“garroth what has gotten into you, ive…my personal beliefs have never had an effect on our relationship, you've never communicated that my beliefs hurt or cause harm to you.” your words were filled with confusion and fear, what could have caused this sort or response? You didn't wanna hear anymore from him, you quickly turned and began to walk home, not bothering to hear another word.

===

He promised himself to avoid religion, he promised to stray away from anything that would remind him of what he used to identify as normal. He didn't know why but the moment he found out of your fondness for lady irene he panicked, sure it sounds childish but he closed it off, he turned his back on that farm and that included you too. The only background he has with any kind of religion is horrible, he didn't know how it was meant to be anything else. He truly believed it was a space to hate and harm anyone you couldn't bare to see, so that night when you opened up to him about your upbringing and your appreciation to irene he couldn't handle it, he used all the power he could to suppress any memory he had of those memories but walking home that night was filled with flashbacks and his fears returning. Hurting him and causing him to black out for the rest of the evening. 

The next morning he sent someone else on the rounds to your farm, afraid those memories would force their way back into his mind if he saw you again. Yes it hurt, and yes you deserve an explanation behind it, but he wasn't thinking right and was almost always in a state of stress. This didn't help. So the day you wandered back into him he freaked out more, afraid of what he couldn't control, so yes his emotions got the better of him, his fears got the better of him. And the moment you turned your back on him, was the moment he seemed to notice how hurtful his words were, sure he needed to feel protected but did he really need to protect himself from you?

It was under the dark cloak of night that he found himself in front of your small home, this time not afraid or mad at something you had no part in., he pulled off his helmet and closed his eyes, fixing his hair with one hand and holding his helmet with the other. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. And once the old door creaked open and your face appeared he bowed his head, spouting apologies and a bad explanation for what he was thinking. It was when you shushed him and allowed him inside that he quieted down. You looked tired, he must've woken you up.

Once you both sat down on your couch he set his helmet down on the floor next to him, you had seen his face before, it was rare but you had, that's how comfortable you both were with each other. Before you could ask him anything he apologized again, this time he was slow when he explained in more detail than before how he was raised, a place where religion was more harmful then it could be good. A place he felt suffocated by fear and worry. How he had promised to leave all of it behind, how he was afraid when you admitted your adoration and love for Irene, in fear of his relationship being poisoned by that same ‘religion’ he was raised with.

The topic was dark and it was the most he had ever opened up to you, it all kept pouring out, and you listened to every part of it, not once stopping him. You allowed him to share why he thought he did the thing he did, why he was so afraid despite trusting you with even seeing his face, and knowing of his royal history, and as soon as you thought it was over he continued, apology after apology. And eventually when he quieted down you hummed ever so softly, leaning closer and wrapping your arms tightly around him, this time it was your turn to apologize, not just for this situation but for how he was taught what religion was. You assured him of being careful with your words. You promised that religion would never have a place in your friendship, that you loved him and only held irene close for yourself, and that he'd never have to have anything to do with it, you'd respect his history, you cared for him to much for him to be afraid of something you could help him work through.

And while your arms were still wrapped tightly around him, slowly his snaked around and hugged you back, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief, and softly as quietly as he could make it he whispered the simple words, “i love you”

Only to be met with an “i love you too” from you.

[missmayhemvr]

Jesus fuck I just saw the post you replied to today about the US vs the third world, and the replies youve gotten. I'm so sorry people are flattening you into a raceless ("raceless") American monolith and degrading you for getting triggered from generational fucking trauma over wording that on the first read did follow the patterns of international antiblackness from ''leftists''. I'm sorry they're belittling you and using you as an example of "USAmericans thinking they have it the worst out of everyone", that is beyond fucked and you're not crazy, don't let them gaslight you. Idek what to say or how to help but I need to make sure you know that the responders are assholes and what you said was a completely fucking understandable response. Lord. 🫂🫂💕

theres long *long* been discussions of anti-blackness within leftist spaces and they never in hundreds of years have been taken seriously. same with anti-indigenous stuff. always ends up exploding in peoples faces and yet they never learn. they decide its better to target their natural allies than to do the work on their side. and the shit part is within the us and outside the us its the same. and the other dumb shit about it is like no where did i say that black or indigenous americans the most oppressed in the world. i said we have 0 safety, we were begging in the streets to stop being murder by cops on the daily only how many years ago? and how'd that go for us? oh yea, indigenous americas were protesting the land theft and poisoning of their water supplies how long ago? and how well did that go? we have been in these struggles since like the 1500s before america was a thing. its 2024 and im still watching children get murdered in broad daylight, im still watching white people terrorize our communities, im still watching water access being denied to only the black or native parts of a state with zero recourse. hell for some of these peoples that would be quick to throw dispersion on my head, its very literally their families coming here and giving full back and support to the death machine that rolls over bodies like mine and theirs but *shrugs* im just a usamerican that thinks im far more oppressed than everyone else what do i know. not like we've had bombs dropped on us, oh wait.