#love how he's more concerned about if ice is okay and has to remind himself 'no this is about something I said'

[remotespontaneouscombustion]

🤗 w. Ice mayhaps

Send 🤗 for a free excuse to hug Maki

Despite the fact he'd been assured that it wasn't that big of a deal, he was still determined to actually get Ice at least a late birthday present. Probably a treat that he'd seen him get before and he seemed to like, and he wasn't going to accept no for an answer about it either.

But hanging out again afterwards, he doesn't know why but he feels... alright somehow, discussing a bit about his experiences with Ice. Neither of them ever stated anything in particular that they went through but it felt... familiar. He hasn't had the nerve to ask if Ice ran away from something just like he did, he's afraid to admit that. But evidently he lets something slip that gets Ice's attention, enough to prompt him to hug Maki.

He has no idea exactly which part of what he said prompted this, on first impulse he wants to ask if everything is okay. But he knows logically it had something to do with something he said or did, and he doesn't know how to feel about the fact he doesn't know what in particular. But despite this, he does hug him back.

"It's okay. I'm... okay now, I think anyway. Or... maybe I'm better now that I have people I can talk to, at least."

"You are one of the people I can thank for that so, thank you."

[inbarfink]

"Just move forwards, Simon! Well, maybe I don't want to move forwards!"

Okay, so it’s pretty damn obvious that Simon’s whole rant here is not just about the physical act of moving forwards through the Time Room. Like, I don’t need to explain what ‘moving forwards’ means in this case, right? But… the thing I’ve been thinking of is that the metaphor here might actually extend more than just this one line.

Because, yeah, Simon does need to move forwards. Metaphorically because embracing change and accepting you can’t actually go back to some idealized past where things were Better is the only way he can actually be happier. And literally because there is an Angry Beetle Cop out to murder his head off for the crime of being chosen by God as a sapient hard-drive. 

But moving on is hard, and you know why?

Because it is hard to move forwards in this silly little mumu.  

And again, this is both metaphorical and literal. Simon is fully aware that he should move forwards with his life, but this robe is yet another painful reminder of the trauma he’s trying to move on from. Yet another example of people treating him like he’s Ice King. Yet another symbol that him being Simon again is seen as some sort of a mistake.

And also, it’s just obviously physically, literally uncomfortable for him to move in this thing.

Simon was forced into a fit designed for a Wizard who could Fly. He’s constantly lifting it up and being so careful about his steps as to not stumble on it, and also trying so hard to not flash his genitalia to God and God’s two OCs that he shoved in his brain. Not to mention he’s running around the Time Room barefoot. And, like, at least when Ice King wore this he still had underpants.

But the thing is.... like, okay, the thing about the Shorts Scene is that it is kinda unfair Fionna got her outfit upgraded into a more comfortable variant while Simon still has to wear the Trauma Robes. But the important thing to remember is that Fionna got those lovely shorts because she explicitly complained about the skirt.

You can say that Simon’s problems should’ve been Obvious and maybe that’s true… but it’s still notable that unlike Fionna, who immediately complained when she started to find her outfit kinda uncomfortable - Simon lets out one sarcastic grumble when he first gets the robe and then just keeps his mouth shut and quietly wallows in his misery until he reached his breaking point. 

That seems notable especially with what we see of Simon in “Simon Petrikov” and how hard it is for him to be honest with his loved ones about his problems. 

I’ve seen some people express some anger at the way Finn and Marceline acted towards Simon during that episode. Saying they didn’t care about Simon enough. But Simon was deliberately hiding his struggles from them - and especially from Marcy. You know, he opened up to Finn and Finn was honestly doing what he thought was best. The problem being that Finn is pretty-messed-up himself and not good at therapy.

And Simon decided the best solution was just to drop the whole thing and pretend that Finn’s adventure did help as a way to end that nightmare without directly confronting him about Actually Making Things Worse. As far as Finn is concerned, Simon was doing badly and is now doing well. And as far as Marcy is concerned Simon is doing just fine! And this situation is not likely to change unless Simon actually speaks up!

Of course, this is easier said than done. I mean, like I said, he was TRYING to open up to Finn and from his perspective, got punished for even trying out for help.

And with the mumu, the situation is a even more complicated. Yes, Simon didn’t speak up when he had the chance to say ‘hey, actually it’s also pretty hard to run around barefoot in a robe! I would like some Pants please!” But also… where Finn and Marceline have both expressed nothing but genuine concern for Simon and take his issues very seriously in their own way - Prismo, Fionna and Cake have all been kinda callous about Simon’s situation and his mental well-being so far. 

So maybe it wasn’t totally unreasonable for Simon to assume that any attempt to assert what would make it easier for him to actually move forwards will fail. Or at least would be far too emotionally grueling to actually be worth it. I'm not saying that's for-sure what would've happened. I mean those three aren't just jerks for the sake of being jerks - it's just that Prismo is kinda occupied with his own grief-induced-depression-spiral and Fionna and Cake don't really get Simon yet. And we're surely going to get to a point in this narrative where these two genuinely care about him too sooner or later. But I can see in that moment why he would think that.

And so he keeps wallowing in the misery and resentment as it gets increasingly harder and harder to keep going forwards. Until he breaks and decide that maybe, what he actually wants is to just stop.  

[peachesofteal]

Double Espresso

Simon Riley/female reader 600ish words. Warnings: inferred trauma and PTSD. Here’s a nonsense ramble on how I think, maybe, Simon could meet you (in a future /reader fic).

It’s the way you’re sitting, he thinks. Curled over the little two top table with your nose pointed downwards in a book. It could be your sweater, which matches the wood grain and your boots, the tan of the leather faded and the fabric crinkled where your toes must be. It could be the way the light reflects onto your skin through the window, the sun muted by the fogged glass, its patterns dancing in a kaleidoscope across where your fingers turn pages. A coffee colored dollop of foam swirled on the top of the ceramic cup that you’re sipping from tells him you’re drinking a latte of some kind and he wonders if you’re the type that just drinks milk and espresso, or if you enjoy some sort of flavor, like vanilla, or caramel. 

He’s half pushed into a corner, hood pulled up over his head, black cloth mask over his nose, the very image of him enough to make most of the people in this tiny cafe clutch their purses tighter to their bodies or press their children into their hips. He’s enough to make the men stare down at their phone screens, watching him from the corner of their eyes, pretending to be unbothered.

You don’t seem to notice. 

You don’t even look up. Poor self awareness. The automatic breakdown starts in his mind, pulling your failure to notice your surroundings apart and then putting you back together as he slowly reminds himself you’re a civilian, not a soldier. Civilian. Not a soldier. 

He’s too busy staring at you to hear the name being called by the girl behind the counter, who’s now raising her voice just a little higher, pitching just a little sharper, to try to grab his attention. 

Your head jerks upwards at the shift in her tone, and that’s when he truly sees your face for the first time. 

He’s never seen magic in real life. Used to believe in stories about it, when he was a boy. Before. Before Ghost. Before, when he was still whole. When he still knew what touch felt like that didn’t leave a mark, invisible or seen. Before, when he still longed for the love and caress of another without fearing it. Before, when he could sleep through the night. 

He thinks he’s seeing magic right now though, and it blinds him. Immobilizes him, tranquilizes him. It’s like he’s been hit with a stun grenade, and the cafe spins. He’s watching your face move, watching it get closer, and then even closer, before you’re standing right in front of his body, sweater falling off your left shoulder, book still clutched in your fingers.

It doesn’t even register, that you’re now blinking upwards with a raised eyebrow, lips pursed with skepticism. You open your mouth and say something, but instead of words, he just hears a melody. Something sweet and delicate, a peal of bells strung together in well timed succession. When he doesn’t respond, you try again, and acid ices your tone until he’s shaking his stupor off and taking a hasty step backwards. 

“I think that’s yours.” You gesture to the small white cup on the counter. What’s his? His brain trips over the word ‘yours’, but when he continues to say nothing, you frown. “The uh, double espresso?” You have an accent. He still doesn’t speak. Doesn’t know how to, in this moment that feels more like a dream than reality. You exchange a word with the counter girl, and pull the cup from the countertop, holding it out in your hand, tentatively. “Sir? Are you… everything okay?” Your skepticism, the sour edge of your expression has morphed into full fledged concern. 

You step forward. 

He steps back until he feels the glass of the side door against his body, the lightweight frame swinging open just an inch, enough that the breeze from outside snakes between his clothes. 

It rattles him and he turns on a dime, leaving you standing in the cafe, a double espresso in your outstretched hand. 

[rosemary-morgan]

FFXV - HC’s about your pregnancy and how the boys would take care of you

Female Reader

I have some cute ideas in mind 🖤 Let your dearest boy take care of you 💋 I want to thank everyone who read and support my stuff.

A big thank you to my dear friend @fangirl-ramblings​ 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

(Pictures/GIF are not mine! Found on Pinterest/Google/tumblr)  

Characters: Prompto, Nyx Ulric, Cor Leonis, Gladio and Ignis

Warning: Pregnant reader, some argument, mention of love making

A little reminder: Requests are open 😋

Prompto:

⦁When you tell Prompto about your pregnancy, he is overjoyed! He can't stop kissing you, he even cries because he is so happy! And you cry with him.

⦁He immediately tells the good news to his friends and they of course rejoice with him. It will not be easy to choose a godfather for the child.

⦁He thinks you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Seeing you like this, with your beautiful round belly, makes him very happy. A part of him lives in you now.

⦁Prompto is so excited! He is already buying so many things for the unborn child. Clothes, toys and books of fairy tales, so he can read them to his child every night.

⦁Prompto gets you everything you feel like. No matter how crazy your cravings are, he would willingly drive hundreds of miles to see you happy. Even in the middle of the night he will get you your favorite ice cream if you ask for it.

⦁He will protect you and the little one with his life.

⦁When fears and worries rob you of your sleep, Prompto will tell you with that sweet voice of his, that everything will be fine. You will hear words full of love that will make your heart laugh again.

⦁He will probably freak out if you get hurt or catch some illness. He will take good care of you, but overacting sometimes.

⦁On the nights when you are in his arms, he is even more tender and loving than he already is. He loves you and the little one in your belly. Sometimes he sings to his child. Softly and in a gentle voice, while he lovingly looks at you and caressing your belly.

Nyx Ulric:

⦁ Your pregnancy is not planned at all and you are afraid to tell him that you are expecting a his child.

⦁ Nyx is speechless at first and just stares at you with wide eyes. You don't know what's going on in his head and what he's thinking about, and that makes you very nervous. Does he want this child? Is he going to freak out now?

⦁ Your anxiety grows as no reaction comes from Nyx. But when he sees your tears and the sad expression on your face, he wakes up from his trance. He can't stand to see you so sad and immediately wraps you in his arms "Hey, hey... it's alright. It's okay."

⦁ Nyx is very loving and also understanding. He loves you more than anything. As time goes by, Nyx becomes more and more excited that you are expecting a child from him. A little being that grows inside you. A greater gift you could not offer him.

⦁ However, he is concerned about whether he can provide you and the baby with the life you deserve. He will do anything to make you happy.

⦁ His worries are great, but when he sees you, full of joy and also full of love, he forgets his fears. In you he has met his soul mate.

⦁ Your nights are full of love and passion. Nyx shows you how beautiful you are and how much he desires you.

⦁ Nyx and you become even closer.

⦁ Nyx will no longer risk his life so recklessly, for he has a great responsibility. He chooses his missions carefully and is highly concentrated.

⦁ He informs himself about pregnancy, gets books and guidebooks, so that he is prepared for the coming weeks and months. He supports you where he can, because he knows that pregnancy is not an easy thing.

⦁ When your baby is born, he doesn't leave your side and when he finally sees this sweet little creature, his beautiful blue eyes shimmer with tears. "I love you. Both of you", he says as he strokes your hair and kisses you full of love.

Cor Leonis:

⦁ You have been trying to have a child for a long time, but it doesn't happen so easily for you.

⦁ The more time goes by and you don't succeed, the more unhappy you are about it. It is your greatest wish, but Cor also wishes to start a family.

⦁ You start to doubt yourself and are afraid that Cor might leave you. Even though you know deep inside that he would never do that. He loves you and wants to share his life with you.

⦁ But one day, when you think all hope is lost a small miracle happens, You can hardly believe it, but it happened!

⦁ Cor can hardly believe it when he comes home and you give him this beautiful news.

⦁ You kiss each other in tears, Cor showers you with kisses. He can't put into words how happy he is. Lovingly he embraces your face, looks at you with tears and smiles. "I love you, Y/N."

⦁ He lifts you in his arms and takes you to the bedroom where he loves you with passion. It's a long night of you making love. You lose all sense of time, because you are in your own world, forgetting everything around you...

⦁ Cor works less to be there for you.

⦁ You take many walks in nature and when you are not feeling well, he lovingly takes care of you.

⦁ You love his kisses on your belly, you like the way he looks at you; full of love and affection. You have found the man to spend the rest of your life with

Gladio:

⦁ Gladio is completely shocked at first. This was not planned at all! He literally panics!

⦁ He becomes louder, asks you how this is supposed to work? Because as I said, it was not planned at all! He thinks he is completely unsuitable as a father. He has other obligations and can not also take care of a child!

⦁ His extremely negative reaction shocks you. You try to calm him down, but Gladio is much too upset.

⦁ "This shouldn't have happened! Damn it, Y/N!" He doesn't think about what he's saying "What are you doing to me, Y/N?!"

⦁ After that sentence, you can't hold back your tears and Gladio sees that too. He sees your shocked expression and immediately regrets his words. But we know how stubborn he can be and he doesn't even apologize to you at first.

⦁ He leaves the apartment, because he first needs a clear head. He must gain distance from you in order not to hurt you even more. Gladio really regrets his words, but he needs to be alone for now.

⦁ His friend Ignis manages to calm him down and give him some advice. As a result, Gladio calms down and his feelings don't take over his mind. Rational thinking is now the order of the day.

⦁ Gladio really loves you very much and he wants to be there for you.

⦁ When he comes home and finds you crying in your shared bed, it breaks his heart. He asks you for forgiveness and holds you tightly in his arms. "I am so sorry. Please, forgive me. Please, Y/N..."

⦁ He knew what an idiot he had been and deeply regrets it.

⦁ Gladio is very gentle and affectionate in dealing with you. He treats you as if you were made of glass.

⦁ And if anyone is rude or rough with you, oh, God have mercy on them! He becomes overprotective.

⦁ He shows a lot of understanding when your hormones go crazy.

⦁ Lying in his lap, he strokes your hair and is so happy about the course his life has taken.

Ignis:

⦁ When you tell Ignis the happy news, he is overjoyed! You made him the proudest man in the world. His beautiful wife brings new life into the world! Who would not be happy and proud?

⦁ You both knew from the beginning that you wanted children. You didn't want to wait long to have them and now you are going to be very young parents.

⦁ Ignis takes care of you as if you were the greatest treasure on earth. Well, he did that before, but now his protective instinct has also become stronger.

⦁ Ignis cooks you meals that are healthy, but also very tasty! So no boring dishes, just really fancy things!

⦁ Ignis knows that you are going through a special time and that you need every support, and you will get it from him. He does most of the housework because he doesn’t want you to overwork yourself.

⦁ He will prepare baths for you, with fragrant oils, and petals of flowers. And while you take a bath, he admires you, caressing your belly, while he keeps looking at you gently. Full of love.

⦁ He often makes trips with you. Your favorite destination is Galdin Quay. There you spend passionate nights together.

⦁ Sometimes, you sit on the beach at night and look at the stars in the sky. You talk about your future. These evenings will remain in your memory for a long time, because they are very special.

[ladylooch]

The Spiral [Lio Meier] - Part 4

A/N: One more part after this! things are starting to turn around for our Lio 🤭

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: allergic reaction, lots of medical talk, angst, childhood trauma themes

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The morning after his concussion, Lio thinks it would have been better to have been crushed by a garbage truck. His head hurts so bad, worse than any hangover headache or migraine he’s had in his life. But worse than that is the fog that has settled into his brain. Details of last night are fuzzy- the game, Lucie, their conversation. He thinks things are better, but is worried about facing her this morning.

He rolls over to his back, tentatively opening his eyes. The world doesn’t swirl like it had been last night. But he feels like the front of his forehead is going to explode off from the pressure. Is that normal? Fuck.

Slowly, Lio adjusts his position to sit up. The smell of something baking hits his nose. He smiles. Lucie is still here. It takes awhile before Lio can get out of bed, changed, and hit the bathroom. By the time he is done with that, he feels like he could go back to sleep. Instead, he drags himself towards the kitchen. Lucie is at the stove, a large stack of pancakes to her left. As he gets closer, he can see the rainbow sprinkles poking out of the cakes.

“Lucie pancakes.” He chuckles, approaching her.

“They still hit even as an adult.” She shrugs.

“Doesn’t Stell think these are her creation?”

“Yeah because of her dad.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “Connor thinks she created everything, even though I made these all the time when I was pregnant with her.”

“So he thinks because she was there, she made them?”

“He thinks she created the craving for me, so it’s from her.” 

“Your mom could set that straight.”

“Mmm, I don’t think anyone can set that man straight about his sweet girl.” Lucie takes off two more pancakes. “Sit down and eat. You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Lio mumbles, resting his head delicately in his palm. He sets his elbow on the counter watching as Lucie slaps two pancakes on his plate. “Still hate syrup?”

“Yep.” Lio confirms, picking up his fork to cut into a pancake.

“I heard from Ben. He wanted you to check in when you got up.” Lio nods, grabbing his phone.

While he eats small bites, him and Ben talk about how Lio is feeling. Ben is concerned about the intensity of Lio’s headache. He wants him to go to the hospital for a CT scan. 

“Can you send a car? Lucie needs to go home to her family.” 

“No, I can take you.” She says, waving away his worries. “Con is taking Stell to the rink for practice. She is loving her mommy-free life right now.” Ben and Lio chat more. The team doctor is going to meet them at the hospital and they will know more after the imaging is processed.

Lucie and Lio finish breakfast, then head into Newark. Lucie waits while Lio is being scanned and afterwards while they wait for the radiologist to do a quick read. Everything looks good. Lio’s brain isn’t showing any damage, but he does have one hell of a concussion. The news is good. Lio feels like he can breathe and be more at peace with where he is at.

“You’re going to have to take it easy.” The doctor reminds him. “At least two weeks before you do any exercise.” Lio agrees. He can’t imagine getting on the ice right now with how shitty he feels.

“Is it okay if I drop you off and head out?” Lucie asks Lio when they are back in the car. “Connor is going to the Children’s Hospital to see some of his kiddos. I need to get home before he leaves again.” 

“Yeah, I will be fine. Thank you for staying with me. And.. um tell Connor thanks too. I appreciate it. Know he isn’t my biggest fan.”

Lucie drops Lio in front of his building, then heads back towards her city. Lio’s doorman greets him warmly, opening the big door for him.

“Thanks, Charlie.” 

“Tough one last night, Mr. Meier.”

“Hey, boys pulled out the win tho.” Lio waves as he walks through.

“Your mama is waiting for you in your apartment. She was mighty frazzled this morning.” Lio stops in his tracks. There are two people who have unlimited access to his apartment besides him. One just dropped him off. The other lives in Switzerland. 

“Ah, thanks. Moms…” Lio trails off with a shrug. 

Lio seriously contemplates sprinting out of his building. Doctor’s orders be damned. The only woman to ever love him unconditionally is upstairs and he is not ready to face her. Not ready to see her after the horrible things he said to her. Not ready to face his own shame and self-hatred. It’s why he left Switzerland without seeing her even after telling his dad he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve her or her love. 

But she is here. Already. He knows how many hoops she must have jumped through to get to him. He senses his dad’s involvement as well. The strings Timo Meier would have pulled for her are unlimited. So Lio Meier gets into the elevator and rises the 6 floors to his awaiting fate. Outside his apartment door, he takes a deep breath, then puts his key in the lock. He pushes the door open, not seeing her on the couch like he expected. 

“Mama?” He calls into the apartment. 

“Lee?” He hears her call from deep inside. She comes rushing out of his room. With zero hesitation, she grabs him and wraps him into her body for a hug. “Oh” She sighs, holding his head against hers. She sucks in a deep breath then lets out a relieved sigh at having him close to her. “Are you okay?” Her brown eyes are deeply pained. Lio closes his eyes, unable to see more. 

“Um, well, I guess but also no. What are you doing?”

“Your laundry.”

“Of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has been grown for awhile, but she still insists on taking care of him. It makes Lio less worried for whatever is to come.

“Well, I was very anxious waiting for you. I had to do something.” She insists, waving a hand in front of her face. “Now, go sit down. I have lemon water, hot oatmeal and toast ready for you.” She gently guides him forward. “And vitamins. You need extra nutrients to get better.”

“Mama.” Lio sighs when she turns to head back to the kitchen. He feels like such a piece of shit with how she is jumping right in to take care of him. The undeserving suffocates him, tightening his throat until he struggles to breathe. “Don’t do this.” He finally chokes out. “Don’t double down and love me harder right now.”

“Lee.” Emma comes back to him, putting her hands on his cheeks. She kisses his forehead, right over where his head aches so badly. “I am never going to stop loving you hard or taking care of you. I’m your mother.” She runs her fingers through his hair, then moves back into the kitchen. His blue eyes follow her.

“Is dad here?”

“Yes, of course. Boys are with Uncle Neeks and Auntie Lex, but Livy is coming this weekend.”

“You both didn’t have to come and Liv needs to stay in California. She has school.”

“Mmm, but we did.” Emma looks over her shoulder at him. “We needed to see that you were going to be okay.”

“Dad isn’t here now?” Lio looks down the hall towards his bedroom.

“No, we felt like it’s you and I that need to talk. Not the three of us.” Lio looks away. “Don’t be mad at daddy. It was me. He didn’t want to do it.” Lio’s blue eyes find her again in the kitchen.

“You don’t get to tell me to not be mad at him.” He whispers.

“Probably not. But I love your dad very much and if I can save him from your wrath, I want to.” 

Lio goes to the couch, sitting down, laying his head back on the top. He is exhausted from his morning. He feels the air of his mom coming around the couch. She puts her hand on his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle of distress there. 

“What’s the news?”

“Concussion.” Lio mumbles. 

“Is your brain okay?”

“Yes.” Emma sighs in obvious relief. Her hand drops to his shoulder. She strokes her hand there, quietly contemplating where to go next. When Lio opens his eyes, she begins.

“Lio, daddy and I love you more than I even know how to say. I never thought I would have to find words to express how much and I’m deeply sorry that you’ve been so hurt.” She sighs, running her hand through her hair, then looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the city. His apartment is only a few blocks from where her and Timo lived when she was pregnant with Lio. That feels like so long ago, but she tries to go back to who she was then to give Lio more insight into their life.

“I was the one who wanted to fudge your story. I know daddy told you that this summer, but he doesn’t know all of the things that went into that. You and I had experiences when you were a baby that made me feel very protective of you. People judged. They were horrible and social media made our life so accessible, even as Daddy and I tried to hide you. But this was never because we were ashamed or didn’t love you.” Disgust and substantial disagreement scrunches Emma’s nose. “It was the exact opposite.” Emma puts her hands on her cheeks for a moment, then continues.

“When you were 10 months old, the Devils were playing in the Eastern Conference finals. Daddy was hurt. He was playing through it as he always does, so he wasn’t performing very well. People were upset.” Lio watches his mom become increasingly uncomfortable. “You and I were out at a store after the Devils went down in the series. There was an incident in public where someone came up to you, a little baby, and called you that name…” Emma closes her eyes. “They went on to literally blamed the entire playoff situation on the fact that you were born out of wedlock. Daddy’s play as well. We were being punished for our sin of having you.”

Lio can see how much this still hurts his mom decades later.

“I’m sorry, mom.” He says sincerely. 

“That person got to me.” Emma shakes her head. “I felt you deserved a better story. A more picture perfect story because of how much joy and purpose you brought to our lives. I..” She sighs. “I felt like we ruined your childhood before it had even really begun. I tried to fix it the way I knew how. Instead I hurt you.” 

“But Lio, please know, I have loved you since the moment I knew of you even when I was crying on a bathroom floor. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to figure it out for you. When I got up off that tile, whatever decision daddy wanted wasn’t going to shake my decision. You were coming because I wanted you. It would be me and you against the world.” Emma stops, looking at him, then she chuckles. “But daddy wasn’t going anywhere. He was all in. He loved us so much. You’ve seen the videos from when I was pregnant with you. Nothing about that was forced.”

Lio remembers the one of his dad laughing hard as a three week old Lio tried to latch onto Timo’s big chest. The pictures of him on the ice at The Rock for the first time in skates that looked massive on his feet. Tons of videos of Lio and Timo napping together the year of the Devils first cup run. He looks across his apartment at a picture of his parents and him with the cup. It was only Lio and them at that time. Well, his mom was pregnant with Livy, but they barely knew that. Although the most difficult to win trophy in sports is right there, his dad’s hands are on a young Lio, engulfing him and his mom in his sweaty equipment.

“It felt like a lie.” Lio hears himself say. He gestures to the picture. Emma follows his gaze. “Like it looked like that. But then you and dad would make a comment about wanting me so bad you couldn’t wait and my whole life felt like a lie.” Emma swallows hard, nodding.

“I see that now, Lee. I’m very sorry. But that was real. That was our life, baby.” She reaches for his hand.

“It hurt me.” He whispers. Emma winces, then runs her hand up his arm to squeeze his shoulder.

“I know. I am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Emma purses her lips together, then looks at Lio with tears in her eyes. She brushes her thumb over the hairs behind his ear. “So loved. So wanted. Never a mistake.” Lio nods, then reaches to hug her. They hold one another tightly. 

“Love you, mama.” Lio inhales heavily. “I can see how you wanted to protect me.” 

“I love you, Lee. So much sweet boy.” When they pull apart, Emma stands to grab Lio more water, then comes back to the couch.

“She wasn’t even pregnant.” Lio confesses. “False positive.” 

“Oh.” Emma blinks. This is the first time she is hearing this. “How does that make you feel?”

“Relieved.” Lio answers honestly. “More than any of the other reasons I said this summer… I just don’t want kids, mama.”  Emma nods. She has suspected so for awhile. 

“It’s your life. You get to decide. But you need to be more careful because at some point, it becomes not your choice.” 

“Kay, pot.” Lio jokes with a light-hearted smirk. Emma tisks, chuckling and smacking Lio’s leg.

“Don’t slut shame your mother. You didn’t see how good James Bond looked that night.”

- - -

A brisk and skin drying wind has picked up on the East coast in the middle of November. Old man winter is roaring its way to the East coast with a winter storm warning in effect beginning tomorrow. With the impending weather, things are sure to get dicey in the booming metropolis of New York City. Despite the lingering effects of his concussion agitating him today, Lio is currently being dragged from room to room in the Bubble Planet by Stella Wood.

“This way! This way!” She yells, struggling to pull his heavy weight with her little body.

“Stell, I’m coming. Just chill.” He laughs.

“She doesn’t know that word. She’s three.” Lucie jokes back to him. 

They weave through room after room, each one more exciting than the last. Stella is having the time of her life, especially when she is on Lio’s shoulders, getting to touch the bubbles falling from the ceiling.

“Mama, this is the best day! I wish daddy could come!” Lucie and Lio avoid looking at each other, just like they avoid the giant elephant that is Connor Wood between them.

Although Lucie and Connor have discussed more about what happened this summer, he is not ready to move on. It got particularly heated when Lucie asked if Stella could see Lio. Connor questioned Lucie’s motives, worried about the implications and confusion Stella would have about Connor not being there. These were fair and valid points, but her inquisitiveness hurt less than her tears about missing Lio.

“Baby, you do what you need to do, but I’m not interested in spending time with him or fixing this. I’ve made concessions along the way. This is where I am at. Stell stays here with me.” 

Lucie respected that. She dropped it completely. But suddenly the next morning, Connor had given her quiet permission for her to bring Stella to breakfast with Lio. That was a month ago. Connor heads to the rink on days when his girls are meeting up with Lio, always having an excuse about training or treatment or nutrition. Lucie kisses him extra hard on those days, wanting him to know she loves him deeply and understands so much of this is difficult for them.

Now, as she watches Stella up on Lio’s shoulders, all she can fathom is the immense hole Connor’s absence brings. 

“Baby, are you getting hungry?” Lucie asks her daughter as they bop out onto the New York avenue.

“Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“You had that for dinner last night.” Lucie laughs.

“She is a good Swiss girl!” Lio nods approvingly. 

“Her favorite is Kraft.” Lucie points out.

“We’ll work on it. She’s three, ya know.” He jostles Lucie’s shoulder, then immediately regrets it at the way the world swirls upright for a minute. “Oof.” He rubs at his temples.

“Careful, Lee. No setbacks.” Lucie cautions, gripping his shoulder.

The three of them head a few blocks down to a diner, settling into a red booth with huge, plastic menus and a coloring page for Stella. Lio sits on her side of the booth, taking turns coloring a troll in a field of daisy. 

“Not pink!” Stella scrunches her nose, pushing Lio’s hand away.

“What? You said I could pick any color.”

“Yeah, any one but pink.”

“You love pink?”

“When I was two.”

Lucie and Lio both snort, attempting to pursue their lips to keep their laughter in. Stella Wood is an absolute hoot. 

“Can I share a milkshake with you?” Lucia asks Lio.

“I was gonna share with Stell.” 

“Oh, I see how it is.” She raises her eyebrows then looks away with a smirk at her menu. She decides on a simple Strawberry shake. “Stell, do you want to share with uncle Lee?”

“Yeah.” 

“Which flavor?”

“Reese’s! His favorite!” 

“No, you can’t have those, baby. You’re allergic to peanuts.”

“No peanuts in there?”

“Yes, there is peanut butter.” Lucie calmly reminds her.

“Sorry, Uncle Lee. I get sick.” She pats her little pot belly. 

“It’s okay. I was thinking chocolate.”

“Oh yes.” The little girl sighs happily.

The waitress comes and takes their orders. The adults grab cheeseburgers with fries while Stella happily exclaims she needs Mac and Cheese. The waitress practically swoons out of her Keds at how sweetly Stella thanks her for going to get their food. More coloring is done and a quick few games of hangman using three letter words like cat and dog and hat. Stella is getting so good at her ABCs. The milkshakes come out first. Stella watches in awe as the shake is split between two cups for her and her uncle.

“You gonna be able to finish that?” Lio asks. 

“Mhm.” Stella nods enthusiastically. With one hand she grabs the glass while the other helps her balance on the table top. She sucks up the milkshake quickly, then sputters, coughing. 

“Oh, that was a big sip. It’s cold, huh?” Lucie chuckles, handing Stella her water glass. She holds it up to the little girl’s lips for a sip.

“Ah!” She exclaims. “Mmmm.” She sucks up more of the thick liquid. Lio and Lucie chuckle, watching Stella enjoy her ice cream. Lio leans back farther in the booth, looking across the table at his cousin.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Lucie murmur. Stella coughs again, loudly, then seems to gag. Stella sits up straighter, looking Lucie in the eyes with wide orbs. “Are you okay, baby?” Lucie straightens. Lio sits up as well, reaching out for Stella. She makes a wheezing noise, then sticks her tongue out. 

“Oh my god. Stell?” Lucie covers her mouth, watching a red, angry rash begin to form on Stella’s face. Lio grabs Stella as she begins to sway backward.

“She is very warm.”

“What is going on?” Lucie whispers, she looks around the table then she smells it, the faintest whiff of peanut butter coming from the ice cream in the glass Stella was drinking. “Oh my god. Peanut butter.” She reaches for her purse, fumbling around. “Um.. ohmygod.”

“Do you have an Epipen?”

“Um.” She nods vigorously, beginning to pant herself. Her stomach tightens, fear dashes down her spine. She rips her hands through the contents of her purse, looking for the injection she always carries with her since the first reaction Stella had a few months ago in Switzerland. But it wasn’t like this. It was nothing close to this. 

“Luc, come on.” Lio calls to his cousin, picking up Stella into his arms. “You’re okay, baby. It’s okay!” He tries for a cheery voice as Stella being to sob. “Luc, dump the purse out.” Lucie picks the bag up, emptying it from the handles. Lio sees the EpiPen immediately, tossing the cap off hastily. He does the injection, pausing to watch Stella’s reaction. Her wheezing gets tighter, but she can no longer speak to him or even cry. Lio’s heart is racing in his chest as he watches her struggle.

“Do you have another one?”

“No! It’s with Connor at home.” She shakes her head frantically. “Oh my god. Someone call an ambulance!” Lucie sobs out to the restaurant. In the haste of dumping her purse out, her phone fell underneath the booth. But she is frozen in paralysis. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She is forced to watch her baby struggle.

Adrenaline takes over Lio like he was injected with the epinephrine. He calculates out where they are in the city, the amount of time it will take for an ambulance to get there and he knows Stella’s chances of making it are slim with how much she is struggling even after her first injection. He has seen this before with a kid in school when they still lived in Jersey. 

“There isn’t time for the ambulance. I’m taking her to Children’s.” The hospital is at the end of the three blocks they walked from Bubble Planet, close to Lucie’s car. Lio secures Stella to his chest and begins to run from the restaurant. He leaves Lucie at the table to scramble her things back into her bag. He runs as fast as his body will go. Stella jostles against his shoulder, going limper and limper and Lio quite literally races against time. 

“You’re going to be okay, Stell. it’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises the little girl in his arms. 

Tears blur his vision. His concussion rears it’s ugly head, pulsing against his temples and making the sidewalk shift with his blurred vision. He can’t let that stop him. Stella needs him. He pushes his injured and weak body to go harder the next block, dodging pedestrians and cabs in walk ways and dogs on leashes. He hits the emergency entrance of the hospital, screaming for help. 

“Help! Please! My nieces is going into shock! She was exposed to peanuts!” Nurses swarm him, snatching Stell immediately and taking over. 

“Did you give her Epinephrine?”

“How was she exposed?”

“Is this her first exposure?”

Lio answers the questions as best he can. Yes, ingested and no. He looks over his shoulder, wondering when he can expect to see Lucie. But then they are taking Stella away on her bed. Another nurse holds him back as they rush down the hall with her. 

“Sir, I need you to wait in the lobby.”

She is right. He needs to wait for Lucie anyway. But that doesn’t make it easier to turn around. He heads to the doors he just sprinted through, avoiding the gazes of curious onlookers. He walks outside into the cold air. His chest tightens immediately and he turns to the side, looking for something he can vomit into. But then he sees Lucie Wood, rushing down the sidewalk, clutching her purse to her chest, sobbing so loud he can hear every inhale and exhale of her shaking body.

“Luc, they’ve got her.” Lio calls to her. He opens his arms up and Lucie collapses into his body. His shirt is immediately wet from her face. Large hiccups shudder her frame against him. He squeezes her tight, smoothing her hair down. “It’s going to be okay.” Lio whispers to her, hoping that maybe if they chant that together, it will make it real.

Several minutes pass. Lucie continues to sob into Lio’s body, even after he moves her inside to get out of the wind. The doctors come out looking for him, finding him and Lucie together. Stella is stable. They can go see her, but she will need to stay for several hours for monitoring as they had to give her two more injections. Lucie heads right into her daughter’s room, curling up with the little girl who looks drugged and exhausted in the center.

“Mama is here. You’re okay.” She cries to her daughter. Stella is upset and shaken from the ordeal. She clings to Lucie like a monkey, balling her shirt up in her little fists. 

“LuLu, do you want me to call Connor?”

“Yes.” Lucie whispers, barely able to get the word out of her shaking lips. She reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, handing her phone to him. “If you call he won’t answer.” She says simply. Lio tries to brush that off like it doesn’t hurt, but it stings as bad as the wind biting his cheeks during his sprint to the hospital. 

Lio takes a deep breath, then clicks on Connor’s contact. His heart is pounding in his chest like he’s about to take a face-off in the final minute of a trailing game. He licks his lips, leaning agains the wall, waiting on the call to connect.

“Hey baby! I’m just about to leave.”

“Ah.” Lio coughs. “Hey, it’s Lio.”

Silence.

“Where is Lucie?” A definite snap tightens the words through the line. 

“She’s with Stella. She asked me to call you and tell you what is going on.”

“What? Are they okay? What..” 

“Lucie is okay.” Lio starts.

“Stell? Whats wrong with her!?” Connor’s voice is beginning to escalate. “What did you do, Lio?” Connor snaps. Lio closes his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything. It was a mistake at the restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Connor yells. “Where are you?”

“At Children’s hospital off 34th.”

“You have to tell me what happened, Lio.”

“I’m trying to, but you’re not letting me get much out here, man.” Connor sighs. Lio takes his silence as compliance. “We were out grabbing lunch and she had an allergic reaction and we had to bring her to the hospital. Her Epipen wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, I have the second one. We usually have the two together, but Lucie and I had plans the other night and…” Connor’s voice is distraught.

“It happens. But you should get down here. They need you.”

“I’m on my way.” 

Lio removes the phone from his ear, looking at the lock screen of Lucie, Connor and Stella. Lio took that photo of them this summer in Switzerland, before everything happened. He sighs heavily, then comes back into the room.

“Connor is coming.” Lio assures Lucie. She doesn’t take her crying eyes off the little girl in her arms. She sniffs and nods in acknowledgement, continuing to touch her daughter’s face soothingly. Lio can’t tell if it’s for Stella or Lucie.

Connor Wood arrives thirty minutes later with squeaking sneakers on the tile floor of the hospital hallway. Lucie and Stella are dozing in an overwhelmed sleep. Lio sits in the chair next to them with one hand on Stella, rubbing her arm. Lucie’s hand clings to his wrist, needing comfort in one of the worst moments of her life. 

“I’m a terrible mom.” She had told Lio tearfully.

“You’re not. It was scary.” 

“What if you weren’t there?”

“It doesn’t matter. I was.”

“Luc! Stell!” Connor rushes into the room then locks in on Lio. He shifts his worried eyes to the bed, seeing Lucie and Stella curled together. His lips pull into a deep frown, then his eyes seemingly dim when he takes in Lio in the place he should be.

“They’re resting, Lucie is pretty upset.” Lio says as he slowly works his wrist out of Lucie’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to see me. I’ll leave now, I just didn’t want to leave the girls alone before you got here.”

“What happened?” Connor asks. Lio can see the way his chest rapidly raises and falls beneath the Rangers logo on his chest.

“Stella somehow got a peanut butter shake at the diner. Wrong order. She had some and started having a severe reaction.” Connor’s face gets ghostly pale. He puts his hand on his head over his blue hat, waiting for more. “Um, Luc, She… she panicked. It was all scary. Truly awful. But I gave Stell the injection, but it didn’t do enough. She became mostly unresponsive.” Connor closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his face in anguish. “There wasn’t time to wait for help, so I grabbed Stella and ran here with her.” 

“You ran?”

“Yeah. Stell didn’t have time.” Lio reiterates. If he is mad at Lio for that, then so be it. Maybe it was reckless, but Lio had to make a judgement call and Stell is going to be okay because of it. Connor stares at Lio. Then suddenly he steps forward around the bed. Lio stands up taller, preparing for anything. Connor wraps an arm around Lio’s shoulders to bring him into his body. Lio brings his hands up, clasping Connor’s back as they share a deep, sincere hug. 

“Thank you.” Connor whispers, tears coating his voice. Lio squeezes Connor tighter, not wanting to let go of his best friend. Suddenly, it hits Lio. How close they were to losing Stell. How dire she had looked when he ran through the doors of the ER. How Lucie had every right to be that terrified at the table. It had been bad. Horrible. Worst case scenario. 

Lio can’t help it. He begins to sob. Everything that has happened the last few months weeps out of him. From losing Savannah, to screaming at his parents, to only having his little sister, to losing the three people in this room with him. His concussion��� almost losing Stella on that New York street.

“It’s okay, Lee. She’s going to be okay.” Connor puts his hand on Lio’s head. “You saved our girl.” Lio nods, shuddering as he pulls away. Both men wipe their faces with their hands, then look over to the two girls laying in the bed. Stella has a sleepy grin on her face, watching them.

“Daddy!” She giggles, reaching out to him, flexing and unflexing her fingers for him to come closer.

“Hi baby.” Connor smiles brightly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. “Can I lay with you and mama?” 

“Yeah.” Stella yawns as she says the word. 

“Sleepy.” Connor chuckles, kissing her again. He curls her and Lucie into his body, trying to be careful not to wake his wife. Lucie jolts up at the feeling of his hands on her. “Me, Luc. It’s me.” She visibly relaxes when she sees her husband. “I’m here.” He brushes her cheek with his thumb. 

Lio watches from the end of the bed, then anxiously rubs at his forehead. He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Um, well I’ll head out so you all can be together.”

“No, don’t go.” Lucie shakes her head. 

“It’s okay, Luc. I’ll see you later.” 

“You should stay with us.” Connor says softly. “We want you here.” The insinuation of the we has the corners of Lio’s mouth sliding up.

Lio makes his way back to the chair by the bedside, sitting down in it. Him and Connor share a look of understanding. Lucie trails her nails along Stella’s back as another big yawn stretches her little mouth. 

“Uncle Lee?” Stella murmurs.

“Hm?”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?”

“Yeah, Stell.” He sighs. “I’ll be right here.”

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

hi! i loved what you're doing with kc now, can i request something like klaus and caroline doing something mundane and human and we see them living their married couple life? can be a drabble or a full lenth, what ever you want ;p

“Maybe this one?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s there not to get?”

“The fabric looks so…dull.”

“It’s supposed to have a shimmering effect in the sunlight.”

“That’ll just remind me of Twilight. No.”

“They're curtains.”

“So?”

Klaus clicks his tongue. “Love—”

“No. No. Do not use that tone with me, Niklaus Mikaelson.”

Ooh. Full named. He’s on thin ice now. “Sweetheart, it’s very simple. It’s a very simple choice, this one or that one.”

“It is so not a simple choice. We’re deciding on curtains for the living room. If you think that’s a simple decision you should just leave right now.”

He reminds himself that answering that is a trap.

Oh, how he wishes he could leave. There’s a new box of paints waiting for him at home, made from shells, a gift from Elijah, and he was hoping to get done with shopping and get home before three, at most.

It’s bloody six and he’s listened to Caroline drone on about stitching patterns for two fucking hours now. One would think they’d be done with the furniture by now, but no. They're just getting started on the upholstery. Heaven forbid Caroline’s exacting tastes allow any of his antique furniture pieces into the living room.

It’s from the fifteenth century, love—

It has clawed feet, Klaus. No.

Sweetheart—

I let you keep the bathtub, but I'm drawing the line on the ottoman. No.

It’s a fine piece—

A tacky one.

Well, I happen to think that of your patio table.

That had been a terribly stupid move.

So now, he’s being punished by being forced to give his opinions on furniture he doesn’t care about. He’s this close to pulling out his hair, and if he sees one more chair with birds on it he’ll be breaking it.

“Caroline—” he whines.

She shuts him up with a glare. “If I wanted to hear whining, I would’ve brought Enzo. Now, opinion.” She holds up two squares of fabric against the light. “Which one?”

Now, see. Klaus is an artist. He prides himself on being one of the best there are, not to brag, but one’s ability is refined after a thousand years. He’s been splashing colours onto surfaces ever since he can remember, the vibrant hues and shades leaving him fascinated since he was a boy. Paints, charcoal, the paint he made from various berries and flowers when he had been human…colours have never left him frazzled.

He knows for sure Caroline’s going to rip off his head when he tells her they’re the exact same colour.

Then he remembers he doesn’t particularly care about his curtains, so he says, “The one on the left.”

Caroline smiles. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles.

“Hm,” she says distractedly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and moving towards the counter. “We’ll get these, then. They’ll go great with your ottoman.”

Klaus’s eyes fly up to meet hers, and she gives him a small smile, one that never fails to leave him reeling. “I'm not a total dictator, you know. I don’t want it to only feel like my home, and not yours. I want it to be ours.”

It’s such a small gesture. In truth, Klaus hadn’t given the ottoman a second thought when they’d had that fight and she’d glared at him angrily and dragged it away to the attic, only focusing on how he could get her in a better mood if only to look at her smile again.

He loves it when she smiles, because oh, her smile is so beautiful. She’s so beautiful.

“Klaus?”

Caroline’s looking at him, her blue eyes concerned. “Are you okay? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes,” he answers, drawing her in for a kiss. She goes forward with a surprised sound low in her throat, her hands resting on her shoulders. The saleslady clears her throat and Caroline jumps away from him, her face reddening as she turns to her and starts rambling about cushion covers and duvets.

Klaus watches her fondly, all traces of annoyance with her disappearing.

In truth, he’d let her cover the whole house in pink wallpaper if it meant he got to see her laugh every day.

He’d let her do anything, really.

Everything.

[sad-ghost-of-garbage]

Ivy Act I

Author: SadGhostofGarbage

David x G/N reader and Michael x G/N reader

Warnings: MDNI! TOXIC relationships, DARK fic, swearing, cheating on a partner, torture, mental manipulation, pet names, David calls himself daddy but like he’s not wrong. Mentions of sex. Reader having insecurities. 

This is a multipart fic and will be five parts. The warnings are for the entire fic not each part. Yes it was inspired by Taylor Swifts song Ivy. 

Act I WINTER 

The night air was crisp, the ocean adding bite to the cool winter air. It had been winter when you had met him…David, he had charmed his way into a date with you. One turned into two and just like that everyone knew you were his. You no longer got hassled at the boardwalk, not by any locals anyway. But just as the creeps disappeared so did your friends, one by one they slowly started making excuses for not being able to hang out. What hurt the most was when you caught them all hanging out, without you. You couldn't understand why your friends would treat you that way, driving you to spend more time in the blonde’s open and waiting arms. 

“Why don’t they like me? Did I do something to make them hate me?” David was holding you against him as you cried in his arms.

“You don’t need them darling, they were shit friends anyway.” Stammering and stuttering you try to defend them against such harsh words.

“No they-” you’re cut off with a finger to your lips.

“Good friends don’t ghost people.” With a swipe of his thumb over your lips he moves to cup your cheek and continues, “good friends don’t make their friends cry.” As if emphasizing his point he wipes the tears off your cheeks. “They think that you’re useless.” Wincing at his words you try and squirm away but he has a tight grip on your chin. “They don’t need you.” Whimpering at his word you try to beg him to stop, to not say such horrible things. 

Things that you knew were true. 

“They don’t need you, but I do.”

Winter had quickly become your favorite, enjoying the bite of frigid ocean air as you raced down the beach on the back of David’s bike. Not having a care in the world as everyone else was bundled up inside taking shelter from the cold, you embraced it. The cold reminded you of David, his touch and his love, the winter reminded you of him. Not once did you crave the scorching heat of summer but you preferred to retreat back into your haven of ice and snow. The only warmth you craved was the billow of smoke that your lover sometimes gracefully breathes into your lungs while sharing a kiss. Hours; you’d spend every waking hour with David if you could, and he let you. He let you cling to him like a lost child, never letting go of him as he took you along on nightly escapades. The longer you were in David’s arms the harder it was to let go when it was time to go. No matter how much time you spent with him it never felt like it was enough, you wanted to be with him constantly. 

“David, do you have to go? Can’t I go with you guys? Please I’ll be good, I promise!” 

“Ah ah ah, no can do doll. It’s just me and the boys tonight.” The smirk on his face was impossible to miss as he chuckled at your whine of displeasure. “What’s the matter, doll? You gonna throw a fit?” 

“No. But I- I just-“ shame making you fall silent it was silly and you were over reacting. A gloved hand tilts your chin upward to face him.

“Tell me kitten.” As soon as your eyes meet his blue ones, a shiver rolls through your body as if it had been filled with ice. 

“I-it’s, it’s just that I miss you when you’re gone.” Looking away out of embarrassment you miss the way David relishes in your admission. Doing well to mask his pride as amusing concern he asks,

“Aw, is that so kitten?” His thumb running back and forth on your cheek providing some comfort, “Don’t worry about it doll. I’ll spend all night with you tomorrow, okay? The boys and I have things to do tonight.”

“Okay David.” With a frigid kiss to your forehead he was gone. That night was miserable, without David to keep your mind together what were you supposed to do? You were anxious, was this how it was always going to feel? 

Lonely?

Numb?

Cold hands wrap around yours stopping you from continuing to pick at your sweaters loose thread. Looking up into David’s crystal blue eyes has every worry in your mind floating away with the winter wind. Gone were your troubled thoughts, all replaced with the thoughts of David. His presence is imposing, even in your thoughts, he was all consuming; it was as if you couldn’t think of anything else. The rest of the night is a blur of shivers and blue eyes that blind like a blizzard. And it was marvelous. Yet still the loneliness poked and prodded at the edges of your mind. The nights spent with David are exhilarating, leaving you gasping at the frigid air, leaving you dreaming of the next night you get to spend with him. While you were eager for the nights to fall, you dreaded the dawn like the living dread a grave. Days were debilitating, panic attacks wracked through your body when you were awake leaving you yearning for the relief of rest. But the anxiety wouldn’t let you sleep. A new feeling started consuming you when the sunlight reminded you that you were alone. 

Numb.

Alone.

Slowly it began to creep into your thoughts, if David wasn’t with you, the loneliness ate away at your heart.

Tagging the gorgeous @britany1997 like always thank you for putting up with me while I was writing this, love you baby!

[thewhumpcaretaker]

HII I'm back with something :P

I asked MrsSimply about Santino having a breakdown and destroying everything SO... how do you see that situation? Like, he has a really bad breakdown/outburst and ends up destroying everything and ends up also hurting himself in the process. How does John help him, if he even can? And is there anything specifically that can maybe calm him down? Just like, how do you see that situation with them?

I really love the whole idea of that in Santino, having so much pain and anger that it turns into a breakdown and him destroying everything. It's like a cry for help :<

Thank you for the ask!!! I loved that prompt and MrsSimply's response. There's a lot of inspiration to be found there. As you've probably noticed, John as I write him is super, super patient and emotionally intelligent, just kind of a rock that sits there and doesn't budge while Santino goes crazy around him. So that would be the case here too.

But first, major disclaimer on this one that this is a dangerous situation and readers should never feel like they have to do what John does in the scenario that I describe! IRL, he'd be putting himself at risk for abuse. So, TW: one partner getting physically violent while the other stays totally calm

●・○・●・○・●

I think this is the one situation in which John would physically restrain Santino. They're closely matched but he's a bit better at fighting than Santino, so he could manage it most of the time, and even if he can't actually restrain him, he can at least keep getting in his way physically. He'd just keep stepping into his path over and over again so that Santino can't strike at things without hitting him, which he wouldn't want to do (or if he ever did even by accident, he'd come to his senses very quickly because John is not fighting back.)

John wouldn't be angry while this is going on, just extremely concerned. He would have that very pained look on his face which we often see in scenes where he's fighting someone he doesn't want to fight, like Caine. He wouldn't raise his voice at all.

What would he be saying? Well, there's nothing that fuels the flames of anger more than feeling gaslit or invalidated. So John would validate what Santino is feeling as much as possible and encourage him to express himself. He'd make sure that Santino knows that even if he stops raging, the sense of injustice that he's feeling will still be expressed another way. "We'll do something about it. I promise." "I'm with you." "I hear you." "I know you're pissed at me/them. That's fair." If Santino starts yelling about what he's going through: "Yeah. You're right. You're right to be mad. Keep talking." If he can get him to talk and keep talking, he'll eventually get to the real pain at the root of his anger and break down in tears instead of throwing things.

He would know that Santino doesn't want to be touched right now (partly because he's probably screaming "let go of me"), so he would touch him as little as possible. Just pull his hands together behind his back, or pin him to the ground with one foot, and not touch him anywhere else. Of course, at the same time, Santino does want to be held, deep down. He's just not able to ask for it yet and John's not going to do that without consent.

So eventually, he gets frustrated by being held out, helpless, at arm's length and he just starts sobbing in total frustration and panic. That's when John can finally hug him.

This is also the time to tell him the things he wasn't ready to hear while he was on a rampage. "It's not your fault." "You were hurting yourself and you don't deserve that." "I love you."

And yes, John would absolutely help him fix broken things afterwards. They work on everything as a team. But beyond that, John would remind him that it's just material possessions and it doesn't matter. What matters is Santino and that he's okay. John would take the most care with bandaging up his hands and icing any bruises, and sitting with him while he rests, just stroking his hair and trying to help him feel calm again.

Long term, he would definitely need another solution like what MrsSimply mentioned with swimming out into the ocean. Most of all, I think he needs to address what's getting him so angry. Anger is all about feeling like something isn't right, like things need to change. If he's getting triggered to the point of breakdown like this all the time, something is very wrong in his life. Like for instance, being a part of an unjust system, and being a part of a family that doesn't accept him. So the real solutions that John would provide would be to get him out of the High Table, to help him repair his relationship with Gianna, and to help him go no-contact with his father (or maybe kill him hehee). Yeah, when he promised that they're going to do something about it, he wasn't kidding.

[rikilouvre]

thank heavens you're alive

characters : reader, enhypen heeseung

what to expect : reader comforting heeseung

theme song : "the 30th" by billie eilish

a heads-up that this story contains suicide attempt and missing a person who has passed.

[ first part | last part ]

the room was quiet, but you could hear everything inside it. the lights were buzzing, the heart monitor beeped every few seconds, the air conditioner was humming all across the four walls of the ward. heeseung was sitting upright, staring at the fainted paint of the wall while you are just keeping your eyes on him. you observe the iv needle taped to the back of his hand and the casts on several parts of his body due to fracture caused by a car crash. he had bruises like spots all over his limbs. you finally had the courage to even open your mouth and talk to him :

"do you really want to die?" right after you asked a vague question, you began to blink rapidly because you could feel your throat tighten and your eyes began to tear up. you were left with no response for a good minute.

breath shaking from a meter away, heeseung finally spoke emotionlessly, still staring at the wall infront of him "i'm fine, you don't need to worry about me". the beeping of the heart monitor distracted you a little bit and made it slightly difficult for you to form words with your emotions mixed with concern, guilt, anger, and sadness drowning you conpletely.

once you finally gained composure, you told him a story :

"everything that's happening right now, reminds me of you from the past. everytime i see you like this — sad and suicidal — i see little kid heeseung. i see you as a little kid who's troubled and is quietly crying at the porch of your grandma's house while sitting on her rocking chair because you missed the ice cream truck. i see the little kid heeseung who meekly cried to his mom when he stumbled on the ground and hurt his knee and it bled, you were even constantly apologizing to her because you thought she was mad at you for being so careless. i see you as a child when you went home from school with your backpack almost bigger than you, crying to your mom because someone stole the lunch she made for you. you were also scared that it was gonna happen again, and it made you skip school for a week."

a light chuckle left his system. you turned to look at him after looking at the ground for too long, he had tears running down his pale, almost-lifeless face. you wiped your tears in return then continued to talk.

"i can still envision the little kid heeseung dragging his brown teddy bear anywhere he went to because that teddy bear was given to him by his firstest-ever best friend, the most beautiful person he ever knew, the most loving person he knew that would sacrifice for him at all costs and he knew he was capable of doing the same for her."

a little moment after, hee covered his face with his whole free hand, quietly sobbing to himself. you helped yourself stand up and slowly walk up to him to envelop him into a comforting embrace. you let him rest his head on your chest as he continues to sob quietly, you nestled the back of his head gently with your palm while the other one rubs his back downwards. it was okay even if he didn't reciprocate the hug, you thought to yourself that he needs this more than you needed it. you gave him a few minutes, maybe an hour to have his tears stop running down. then, he finally spoke again.

"i'm tired." now clinging to your arms, it was sure that he wouldn't want to let you go, not you too.

"do you have any idea how your mother would react once she finds out you're losing yourself like this? that you'd want to be with her this way? she would be really sad and worried, heeseung."

...

"you didn't have to put yourself in a car accident to end it right there right then. this would've not went through greatly if you did have your life taken right there, you know that, right?" you cupped his face.

"i love you so much, heeseung." you said with every word enunciated very clearly. you kissed his forehead, his nose, then his lips.

"i will never, ever leave you. never." you whispered to yourself and rubbed his back while embracing him.

"always remember that when you missed the ice cream truck, you and your mom bought a whole tub of ice cream wearing your beach sandals because you said the ground was all sand when walking to the market. your mom cleaned your wound for you and gifted you your teddy bear right after. and that bully who stole your lunch moved schools." after hearing all this, he looked up to you with red, swollen eyes, but the confusion in his face was quite noticeable.

"hmm?" he hummed out of cluelessness of where these are coming from.

"what i'm trying to tell you is, you'll heal in time. i'll stay by your side up to when that moment happens. things will always turn the right way at the end of the day, okay? please don't lose the last hope that you've got inside you. i'll be here by your side. always."

"when you told me every single story i told you just now, i remembered every single time you smiled in the middle of telling me them. everything. you smiled through them all. you showed courage that even if something messed you up, you were still quick to stand up on your own feet and live to tell the story. i say, thank heavens you're still alive — you're still alive to tell your stories and how you got through them all. i love you, so, so, much."

[chaoslynx]

Aww the fanart with asheiji and kids... <3 It gave me an idea for a fic: Ash and Eiji's child(ren) notice that something isn't going right in one of their friends' life. Obviously they're too young and naive to realize that their friend is being abused at home. But Ash sees, and knows... Merry XMas and Happy New Year!

About an AshEiji [child], I'd like the name Layla for a daughter. Aslan (or Arslan/Arsalan, which is a Turkish name and not Hebrew like Yoshida thought) is the hero of a popular Persian epic. And Layla is from a famous Arab piece, Layla and Majnun, the middle-eastern version of Romeo and Juliet.

Ash has noticed that Layla's been a little ... off, for a while.

She's always bene a little introspective for her age, and generally just a good kid. Gets that from being raised by Eiji, Ash guesses. No way someone raised by someone that good could end up with a cruel bone in their body, even if Ash is the other parent. At least, that's what Ash has to keep telling himself to try to get the idea that Layla won't end up like him.

But she's been even more withdrawn lately, like she's thinking about something beyond her years.

Ash doesn't like it.

It's not quite familiar in a way that's especially concerning to him, but it's uncomfortable enough to see that he's worried. And she's been brushing him off when he asks, but he's determined to get through to her. Layla is his daughter, after all, as weird of a situation as that is for him to realize sometimes.

"Hey kiddo," he says one day, when she gets home from elementary. "You okay if we do an ice cream check in?" It's a keyword of sorts between the three of them—Eiji included—that started just due to Layla's love of ice cream. It became an easy way to talk to her about anything serious or seemingly scary. Spoonful of sugar type of situation. The ice cream makes everything a little more palatable.

But Layla frowns, now, and hugs her knees to her chest. "I dunno," she admits.

"We don't have to, but I do think it would be helpful to talk some things out, yeah? Something's on your mind."

She pouts.

"Am I wrong?" Ash says, not pushing too hard, but just a small challenge.

"Dummy," Layla mumbles. "How'd you know?"

"Hey, language," Ash says, halfhearted. Like he hasn't said worse in front of her. "Come on, let's get some ice cream and talk stuff out."

Once they're settled in with their bowls, Ash waits for Layla to speak first. She already knows that he's wanting a conversation here, since he essentially used the parent equivalent of the safe word they gave her to get her out of any situation without others picking up on it. He's inviting her to say anything and everything on her mind, but he's going to let her do it on her terms.

"... It's my friend at school," Layla says after a few bites.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Ash reminds her softly. "What's going on with your friend?"

"He's just"—Layla makes a face—"I dunno."

Ash feels a flare of anger for a moment. "Is he bullying you?"

But Layla quickly shakes her head, barely sparing this kid from the wrath of Ash Lynx. "No, more like I'm worried he might be getting bullied. Or ... something." She frowns down into her bowl, and Ash can feel his entire demeanor shift.

Ash goes almost deadly quiet for a moment, thinking of how to approach this. He can't make assumptions too quickly, but he does know that they've taught Layla enough of how to speak up for herself and what healthy friendships should look like that she's probably right if she thinks that something's wrong.

Taking a slow breath, Ash reminds himself that he needs to not scare Layla here as well. He doesn't want her to worry any more than she already is—she's such a good kid, but it isn't her responsibility to be looking after her classmates. If she's right about this—or, rather, if Ash is right about what he thinks Layla might be saying—then the adults in her classmate's life have failed him.

Ash knows what that's like.

"... What's got you worried?" Ash asks gently. "Maybe I can help him, or we can figure out someone who can."

Layla thoughtfully scoops another spoonful of ice cream. "Well," she starts, "he seems to get hurt a lot at home."

Ash's temper flares for a moment, and it takes everything in him to remember that Layla's probably talking about the normal bumps and bruises that happen with the accidents of childhood.

Except, apparently, enough of them to worry her.

"What kind of hurt?" Ash asks.

Layla drops her spoon and runs her hands up her arms. "Like here," she explains. She taps her wrists with the opposite hands. "And here."

"Like bruises?"

Nodding, Layla says, "Like when I fell down."

Ash winces thinking of it even now—Layla fell out of her bunk bed once a few months ago. She wasn't badly injured, but she did have some really bad bruising.

"And he always seems scared in P.E.," Layla continues. "I don't know what's wrong, but ... something, I think."

Ash winces, thinking of his own experiences with sports at that age. There could be any number of reasons why a kid might not be fond of physical education, but ... it's definitely not a good sign.

Ash swallows. "Thank you for trusting me with all of this, sweetie. I'm going to see what we can do, okay? We'll make sure he's okay."

" 'Kay!" Layla says immediately. She trusts Ash so strongly that all the worry she's been showing recently seems to melt out of her. She kicks her legs back and forth, enjoying her ice cream.

... Well, Ash has a new goal. Ethical routes first: he'll bring it to the school's attention first, and then follow up with a social worker and the ChildHelp hotline.

And, if all else fails, there's still a little bit of Ash Lynx left in him these days. He's gotten his hands dirty before, and he's not afraid to do it again. Not if it means he can help someone like who he used to be.

[binch-i-might-be]

i was just wondering, after seeing like all sorts of AUs for the Thin Ice Verse™, how would an AU where Alex came to America the way he did in the musical? pretty sure it'd change some things and i was just curious, especially for Gwash and Alex's relationship

ohhhh. oh oh oh

okay. this would be fascinating actually

well first of all, we would have to start at the beginning–Rachel's letter to Gwash. she would have definitely still sent it, because obviously she wanted at least one of her babies to have a good life. now, why didn't he receive it?

I think the spiciest option we have here is that because he was deployed at the time and constantly on the move, it was delivered to Mount Vernon. where, perhaps, someone's despicable mother was temporarily residing due to heavy construction work on her own house?

yes I'm grasping at straws but let me have this: I propose Gwash never received Rachel's letter because his mother intercepted it and destroyed it. as far as she's concerned, there are zero (0) creole bastards muddying her bloodline, thank you very much.

so little eight year old Alex grew up having to fight for everything, without his Mama and without the man she had so confidently claimed would come for him.

until the hurricane hit and he lost everything again. until he could write himself on that ship to New York.

we are following the musical timeline so he meets John before he meets Gwash, and we all know how that goes haha.

now I don't think Alex knows his father's whole name. he was a child and delirious with illness, so even if Rachel told him Gwash's whole name, who knows if he would have remembered it. no, he knows two things about his father: his name is George, and he's a soldier.

okay. so Alex still takes his homies to liberate some british cannons, John and Alex smooch, word gets out about that weirdo artillery captain kid who keeps refusing to join Generals' staffs.

Gwash is intrigued. he summons the boy, and good God, he's young. their conversation goes basically like in Right Hand Man. Gwash thinks the boy looks familiar. he's glad to keep him off the field.

I think Alex is much more hesitant to trust, especially older men who have power over him–James Hamilton's influence has never been counteracted by a loving father, after all. Alex has been fending for himself for ten long years, and one thing that has very seldom been challenged is his belief that men shouldn't be easily trusted.

they spend a lot of time together though, and a good chunk of it alone with each other. George takes a quick liking to Alex; he reminds him a bit of himself when he was a boy, and he can see he's intelligent and fierce and passionate for their cause. but he's also young, and George gets the feeling that he hasn't been taken care of in a long time. his ever-bleeding heart can barely take that.

George is casually paternal to all his boys- his aides, he means. surely Alex won't reject his careful affection if he can see he's not being singled out out of some sort of pity?

and Alex, while he tries to tell himself that he doesn't need his General's affectionate, fatherly nicknames or his concern for his wellbeing- well. he can't deny that it is a bit. nice. just a little. (John might have had to take him by the shoulders and tell him "darling, he likes you. he likes all of us. it's not an insult, it's a good thing." before he was ready to accept that lmao)

the two of them grow closer over many late nights shared. George learns Alex is used to working to hard. he learns he's prone to frequent illness due to a bad childhood sickness (and even after Alex's countless reassurances that he can handle himself just fine, he can't help but worry. he's mind keeps drifting to his older brother. his daughter.)

George learns that Alex was born in the West Indies. he tells him oh, what a coincidence, he went down there for business once twenty years ago. Charlestown, actually.

George learns that Alex is from Charlestown. huh. they talk about the area, how it changed within the last two decades, and Alex comes to life, getting to talk about his home with someone who has seen it himself, who knows firsthand how beautiful it is. the beaches remind him of his Mama. he hesitantly tells George about this.

George is sympathetic. he doesn't know a lot about the boy's prior life, but he can concur that it wasn't an easy lot. he knows what it's like to lose someone important.

he thinks. maybe Alex needs to talk about her. as a way to remember. to make sure the details don't swim into each other and blur with the passing of time.

he asks what her name was.

"Rachel," Alex says, and George stops. Rachel. Rachel, and suddenly the boy's name, Hamilton, springs out at him–he hadn't thought anything of it when he'd first met him, it was common, a common name-

"Faucette?" he asks carefully, telling himself that it couldn't possibly be the same woman, that it, it wasn't, it couldn't have been-

and Alex stares at him from those wide dark eyes that seems so oddly familiar.

"you- you knew my mother?" he says meekly, so obviously hopeful, wanting someone who shares her memory, and oh George would love to be that for him, but he fears he's something else entirely.

"how old are you, Alex? when were you born?" he says instead of answering, and Alex's eyes widen more and more. he stumbles a step backwards, right into the edge of a desk. his hands shake when he raises them to cross his arms over his chest in a gesture so desperately protective, George wants to cry.

he swallows. "my mother said- before she died, she told me I wasn't her husband's son. she said my father was a soldier. from the colonies. she said his name was George."

and there it is.

George doesn't know what to do. he wants to take him into his arms, wants to hold the pitifully trembling boy, wants to feel his hair and cup his cheeks and trace a finger down his nose and across his brow and look at him and try to make sense of everything, but he remains where he stands.

Alex's arms draw tighter around himself. his eyes glint wetly in the candlelight.

"she said she wrote to him. she said he would come for me. take care of me."

and George's whole heart falls out of his chest.

"there- there was no letter," he says at once, wracking his brain to be entirely sure of something he knows with such certainty, but- perhaps he had missed it, somehow? perhaps his wife had-? it must have gotten lost, there was no way he would have disregarded a letter from Rachel. "dear boy, there was nothing, I- oh, if I had known, Alex, you must believe me, if I had known-"

he breaks off. there are no words across the span of all human languages that could communicate the depth of his emotion. his regret.

his boy. Alex is his boy. has been all along.

Alex sobs bitterly, and he is across the space to fold his child into his arms in an instant. the boy struggles for half a second before he melts into him and just cries.

George joins him.

[thebahwrites]

OOOO OOO OOOO tell me your thoughts about that silly rabbit hangman

i love u sm thank u for validating me and my need to rant 🤝❤️

an ask game ft niche questions i don’t see v often (send me a character)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin (More under the cut so I don't bother anyone <3)

a song that reminds me of them Gonna pick one that isn't on Powell's list cause come on: Bad Guy - Billie Eilish I'm that bad type Make your mama sad type Make your girlfriend mad tight Might seduce your dad type I'm the bad guy, duh I just think it's funny to think about how both fanon/canon makes Hangman the main antag/the "villain" and he kinda does it himself as a character but mostly cause he's an asshole.

what they smell like Expensive. My mans be using Dior's Sauvage body wash and cologne (kinda pine-y/fresh) and/or Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille, also of cigarettes, bourbon & jet fuel. Do you know how much jet fuel STICKS to things? Hangman strikes me as the kind of bitch who has a couple scents he sticks by, they're good and expensive and also signature for him. Also yes I am very, very anal about scents so have this.

an otp If I answer Hangster is anyone gonna be surprised? No? Good. I just think it's the same appeal as Iceman/Maverick, okay, they're rivals, they're enemies, they're bitter but still in love exes, don't come for meeeee.

a notp Hannix, look, I don't ship-shame or anything, it just reads comphet to me, doesn't do it for me, I'm SORRY. I think they'd be great frenemies tho.

favorite platonic/familial relationships Coyote/Hangman is also one of my ships so this is hard because they can also be the best bros ever and it's #1 in my heart but also even though we have a total of zero (0) canon interactions I know in my heart of hearts Ice and Jake would've been great together in this essay--

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with (concern emoji.jpg) Please no one come at me for this but the general fanon that Hangman is actually uhhhhh 'soft' inside? How do I explain this but basically this notion that whatever traumas/hidden reasonings he has needs to be broken down and he's actually, like, nice? I don't vibe with it. And that's coming from the author of give your heart a break lol I just think there's space to 'there can be real depth to this character' to coexist with 'he's also a huge bitch'. 'Bitch™️ as a personality trait' if you get what I mean? I say this with the utmost love, I am a huge bitch and I don't think I am a bad person, an asshole at times but not a bad person and that's how I personally see the character. ANYWAYS, THAT'S MY PERSONAL TAKE, NO ONE @ ME. (another smaller one is that he's not a good/decent team player because canonically that's disproven he has a point in the things he's done BUT I DIGRESS I'll ramble if I start, goodbye!)

the position they sleep in Weird ones, you know when you look at someone and goes 'that can't possibly be comfortable?', those. And he drools.

a crossover au i’d love to see them in PACIFIC RIM WHEN. MY PACIFIC RIM AU WITH MY SPECIFIC HEADCANONS WHEN-- I'm kidding... mostly. But also 'In The Flesh' which is probably something only I wanna see.

my favorite outfit they’ve ever worn Listen, he looks good in the flight suit, what can I say, I like a man in uniform. I'm not immune to [Hangman] in his [flight suit].

[silver-heller]

KISS for Viktor, please. I hope you've been doing well, friend/loved one.

Hi Kevin! I'm doing alright, thank you sweetums. I got 28 which is middle of the back. I haven't written much Silver x Viktor, even though I should, so thanks for this!

I've Got Your Back

T | One | Viktor | Read it on Ao3

Tws: Discussed bruise/injury

Viktor was fixing the main car’s ignition when Silver stumbled into the garage. The cat was slumped over as he went through the entrance on the side, letting out small whines as he dragged his feet across the concrete floor, keeping his head down.

Viktor tinkered for a while longer, finishing up before putting down his tool and brushing at his sweaty forehead. He watched as Silver went to sit down on the bench just off to the side, shivering at the act and struggling to do so without gritting his fangs.

Enough was enough.

“Vhat is wrong, Silver? You have been hunched over all day. It has me vorried,” Viktor said, turning to him and leaning on the car to indicate he was listening.

Silver sighed, struggling to become comfortable on the bench and eventually just leaning back in surrender. His face had become all scrunched up, rubbing at it.

“I think I hurt my back or something. It keeps aching and it hurtssss to walkkkk,” Silver whined, placing his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

Viktor wiped his hands off at that, mentally musing that Silver always looked like he did after hours of work with the black tips of his ears and tail. The flicking of both always made him smile. Silver’s hair always became mussed too after some point and, when they didn’t, Viktor was always willing to do the deed himself.

As if reading his thoughts, Silver tilted his head toward Viktor with a smile.

“Anyways, is it okay if I stay here with you for a little while? I felt crazy just sitting in my room…alone.”

Viktor nodded, ears going down at the solemn look in his companion's eyes. Silver never could sit in one place for too long. He was an overly energetic, sometimes violent maverick, which was the best thing about him. Or, so Viktor thought.

“Yes, but let me take look at your back. Ve vouldn’t vant it getting vorse,” Viktor said and Silver hesitated.

However, after a moment of looking Viktor up and down, and seeing how concerned his expression had become, Silver turned around. He lifted up the bottom of his shirt, Viktor kneeling down to take a look. He reached over, then paused. He peered up at Silver’s expression, who was biting his lip nervously.

“Can I?” he asked, waiting for Silver’s hum before daring to touch him.

After brushing back his fur here and there, having to look past his rather distracting stripes, Viktor eventually found the problem. A large bruise had made itself known on the middle of Silver’s back, stretching quite far both ways, which explained the pain. Viktor frowned, wincing at the sight.

“You are bruised. You should ice it down,” Viktor said, though he continued to stare at it, wishing there was more he could do.

He lingered and, after a moment of consideration, he pressed his face forward. He made sure to control his strength, pressing the gentlest of kisses he could muster to the wounded area. Even if it was only the thought that would count, he hoped it would soothe Silver some and make recovering that much easier. He could not imagine how annoying it would be until it was healed, making a mental note to remind Silver to ice it and rest until it was.

He flinched back when Silver let out a yelp, dropping his shirt in shock and turning to Viktor with wide eyes. Viktor took another step back, holding up his paws. 

“Am sorry. Did I go too far?” Viktor asked, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Silver felt the same, apparently, tail swaying at a record speed behind him as he just stared. He broke eye contact, however, when it sunk in, pulling his paw up to his face to hide his expression.

“N-no,” Silver said at first, eyes slowly peering back, “Thank you, Viktor. I feel a lot better already.”

Viktor smiled at that, putting his hands on his hips and nodding at Silver.

“Glad I could help.”

Silver’s eyes sparkled at that, and Viktor could tell he was feeling better already.

Ask Game

[twodancingzombies]

Slashers with a clumsy S/o

Michael Myers

Michael is an asshole so its most likely that he gets entertainment from all your falls or body slams, he doesn’t necessarily help unless he senses you’ll take a particularly bad fall in his mind if he can get shot and still keep going so can you

He won’t help bandage you up unless you really whine, then he’ll begrudgingly help, he manhandles you a lot but he gets the job done this is about the nicest he’s going to get on minor falls 

If you happen to fall a lot Michael will safety proof edges you could hurt yourself on and reminds himself not to leave things on the floor but if he gets fed up, he will toss you over his shoulder and throw you on the sofa or bed, you’ll get a nasty glare if you move after he put you there

However with major falls Michael is a bit more concerned, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed albeit roughly but he’s trying to be mindful for you 

If you’re lucky you may wake up to some ice on your bruise but don’t expect a lot and don’t bring it up otherwise you’ll get the cold shoulder from Michael

Jason Voorhees 

You scare him every single time, Jason’s anxiety soars especially when you’re outside, with or without his traps you’d manage to fall but he physically recoils when thinking about you falling into one of his traps 

Needless to say he’s resorted to carrying you a solid 90% of the time which works for you since essentially you’re always in Jason’s arms, he will let you go if you ask but the whole time he’s restless and ready to catch you 

When you fall or walk into something, Jason is instantly all over you checking every inch of your body for injuries just incase, he hates seeing you bruised it makes him feel like he’s not taking care of you and he whines upon finding multiple cuts or bruises

Jason will practically baby proof the cabin for you, he’s filed down all rough edges and kicks himself if he finds anything on the floor you could trip over 

If you fall into him, Jason will drop anything in his hands just to catch you and no he won’t be mad about it, he actually likes when you fall into him he finds it cute but he does search frantically for injuries, he’s not exactly the softest landing out there

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba gets angsty, he loves you too much to see you hurt even if its only a minor bruise, he’s already asked his brothers and Luda Mae to clean up a bit especially seeing as his brothers mess is usually the reason you’re on the floor 24/7 anyways

Bubba is really caring towards you, he hears a thud or bump and he’s already on his way to make sure you’re okay, he’s working? Not until he knows you’re okay from that trip 

There’s nothing more Bubba hates than seeing you bruised up, when you’re both laying together he rubs his hands over your body trying to compensate for not being able to catch you or be there 

He has a heart attack if he finds you with his tools and has an even bigger one when you’re on the floor next to his brothers mess all scratched up, yes he will absolutely scold them later he’d do anything for you

Always picks you up no matter your protests saying you’re fine, he frets over you until he determines you’re fine and always patches you up with plasters or ice, he wants you to know he’ll always help you

Brahms Heelshire

He’s spend enough time in the walls to know what its like to crash into things and how easy it is, often times its you putting ice and plasters on him so needless to say he can have his moments too

In these situations Brahms mirrors what you do when you care for him taking his time prolonging putting the plaster on so he can spend more time touching you, he always places a kiss over your injury the way you do to him and fully expects reward for his actions

Admittedly when you trip he finds it a tad bit funny so long as you’re not hurt but he often watches you through the walls so he can catch you and be your hero

Speaking of catching you sometimes he positions himself right where you fall so you fall into him and get all blushy, he loves watching you try and compose yourself afterwards

Brahms wont clean up so you don’t fall but he has expressed concern over dangerous places that could actually hurt you to fall or bump into something in, he likes to accompany you into such places as well

Billy Loomis 

Billy can be sneaky when it comes to your clumsiness, he doesn’t put you in danger but he won’t exactly tell you there’s something right at your feet that you’re about to fall over so he can catch you and look good in front of you, bonus points if its in front of his friends

He actually finds it endearing when you trip over your own feet, it boosts his ego each time he ‘stops’ your fall 

Now he won’t ever kill you but sometimes he wonders how far you’d get in a chase with ghostface, you’d be a lost cause for sure, sometimes he also thinks of getting Stu to chase you just so he can swoop in to save you, it would make a good alibi

Billy will often carry you after your ‘trips’ checking over for bruising or sprains to him this is the perfect excuse to hold you while watching horror movies for the evening

Takes immense pride in looking after you and being your comfort whenever the pain is too bad to handle that being said his worry is genuine when he finds you near tears after slamming into a table

Stu Macher

You two are helpless and each others worst influences when it comes to clumsiness, you’ll trip over the phone chord and Stu will fall over the sofa trying to stop you 

There have been multiple occasions where Billy has walked into both of you laughing hysterically on the floor together after tripping over each other, its an ongoing joke that its a date for both of you to fall then ice each other up

Stu loves having someone to match his clumsiness but should you fall too bad he’s quick to come to his senses and pick you up telling jokes as he carries you to the medicine cabinet 

No matter if you both removed all furniture from the room you’d both manage to drag each other down usually you both lay there laughing until the other (stu) gets restless and decides to bounce back up

You and Stu play a game of who can save the other after a long day and however many times one of you can stop the other from falling is the amount of kisses you get

Captain Spaulding

Ha loser, if you’re looking for sympathy good luck, the only thing coming from Spaulding is laughter, even if you’re actually hurt badly he’ll still laugh before actually helping 

You’ll be the punchline for a good portion of his jokes for the next week this man has no nurturing bone in his body the only reason he’ll stop is if you’re ignoring him and he wants to get laid

If someone else is the cause for you falling or knocking into something though, Spaulding will hit the roof probably either getting up in their faces or directing them to the firefly house even if it was a complete accident you’ll just have to get used to his attitude

If you end up hurt enough to warrant blood or tears, then he’s willing to help you up and toss a few plasters or bandages at you out back, maybe even some of his chicken

Will take the time out of his day to take you to a doctor or hospital if it really is that bad, the store is messy and its no surprise you fall as often as you do but he’ll have a fun time forcing you to take painkillers the whole time

Otis Driftwood

Otis is 100% the type of person to purposely trip you over just to be a dick and make fun of you but after a while he found it much more fun to trip you up and drag you into his lap instead

He does watch out for you despite his usual behavior and harshly tugs you by the arm when he notices you walk into something or trip over, it leaves a mark but hey at least he tried

Like Spaulding, he can trip you up no problem but if anyone else does he’s literally out for blood unless its Baby, she’ll get off with a bunch of colorful words and threats

Otis will pick you up from the floor and carry you to his room acting like you’re a baby and making a huge scene, he doesn’t let you go always saying ‘not my fault you can’t walk’

Despite being a huge ass about the whole thing, he is genuinely concerned when there’s other people around there are so many ways to hurt yourself around a flailing victim and he swears he’s not picking up the pieces 

[spilledkauffie]

Bucky x Pregnant Reader

Just some funny & fluffy HCs (they’re kind of long, sorry!!)

*xFemale!Reader || Part 2 !

He’s super cautious about everything, if you want soup for dinner he makes sure it’s not too hot, if you want ice cream he lets it thaw just a little so it’s not too cold. When you asked him why he was sticking a thermometer in your coffee he simple said, “too much heat isn’t good for the baby, it could burn it,” as he stared at the meter, “uh-huh, and you do know we’re not in the 1940s anymore, right? We have a much better understanding of mom-baby connections,” you tilted your head, “Look I’m just being cautious, for you, okay?” It’s old fashioned, but it’s sweet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees you on a ladder, a step, the counter, or anything with heights. He will literally man handle you, grabbing you carefully by the waist or under your arms (yes, like a child in trouble) to bring you down from where you were, even if it isn’t actually that high. “It wasn’t even that high, babe,” you sigh, waiting for him to get your chips off the top of the fridge, “it’s not like I was climbing Mount Everest.” / “Close enough,” he shake his head at you with a sassy tone, still distraught over you just heaving yourself up onto the countertop.

Sam is always over! Though he doesn’t have kids, he has nephews he’s close with and thus has had some experience with babies and children. Often Bucky just rolls his eyes when Sam’s giving advice, but Sam comes back with “Oh, I’m sorry, who should she believe, a 106 year old who took vintage sex ed in 1900, or someone who was at the hospital with his sister, like eight years ago?” you had to laugh at the comment, but Bucky just ducked his head, “it was 1939…” / Sam is actually a big help for you, he said he’d try to get his sister up to visit with you and talk baby stuff next time the boys are on a mission so you’re not alone.

Sleeping, Bucky’s made it a habit of always going to sleep with his hand somewhere on your stomach, it’s mainly a protective thing, since before the baby he just had to have an arm around you, holding you. But now it has to be skin on skin contact, which means you’ll feel him slowly and softly slip his hand under your shirt when he comes to bed later than you. You’ve come to love it, often placing your hand on top of his.

↳ “lazy days” have become much more of a thing as you entered your third trimester, some days you just don’t want to get out of bed, and Bucky is completely fine with that, he’ll cook, he’ll bring you whatever you want, he’ll lie in bed with you.

You’ve gotten really concerned about the pregnancy and being a mom on a few occasions. Usually this results in some bouts of depression. In times like those, Bucky makes sure he is there physically and mentally for you. If you don’t want to talk about you, he lets you snuggle up as close and as tightly to him as you want. He understand silent suffering and how much just a physical person being there means. When you do want to talk about it, he’s always there and ready to listen.

One minor wince or groan or mumble from you and he’s on it with the “what’s wrong?” / “what is it?” / “how can I help? Is the baby coming?!” He’s mildly paranoid that he’s going to miss something vital or important if he isn’t 100% paying attention to every detail. This is why no you’ve never teased him about anything regarding the baby, because he’s so concerned and invested that it might just give him a heart attack… He is 106.

He was beyond panicked when you called him over, desperately reaching a hand out for him as he sat down next to you. Taking his hand, you press it to your side, and tell him to wait. Super confused if this is a good or bad moment he waits with an anxious look until- “did you feel that?” you smiled up at him; his jaw drops and spreads into a smile as he shifts closer to you in awe silence you both feel another kick, “wh- how did you do that?” he asks, stroking his free hand through your hair, as he bites the corner of his lip. Finding it precious you’re nearly crying from the happiness when he kisses your forehead.

He’s that guy that gets a book on “pregnancy for dummies,” so he can attempt to better understand what you’re going through that he can’t necessarily see. Needless to say part of the book horrified him, “oh my g- do you know what’s happening inside you?!” You just shake your head finding 10/10 entertainment in just watching his face whilst he reads it. The actual “how birth happens” chapter might’ve been one of the best.

He’s actually a little scared, or worried, about touching your baby bump (with a certain hand). You’ve told him you don’t mind that it’s cold, but he’s still avoidant. When asking him why, he didn’t want to say because he thought you might laugh, promising you wouldn’t he confessed, “what if the vibranium… magnetises the baby?” You managed to keep a straight face for approximately two seconds before breaking into laughter.

Your random (and very intense) moods are the biggest handful for him. He’s trying his very best to know what to do, but he never wants to make you feel like it’s not normal to feel a certain way.

↳ The Crying: one time he was telling you about this past mission he was on. It was like casual conversation for him to talk to you about it, but when he got to the part of “so they had these big dogs-” he looked over at you to find you in absolute tears, he stopped in his tracks, biting in his bottom lip as you stared at him, “and? then what?” you asked, voice breaking, he shook his head slowly, keeping eye contact, attempting to think of something, “then-” / “then you became best friends with the dogs and they were on your side in the fight?” he nodded dramatically to you response “yes, that’s exactly what- what happened… yep, nothing more to that story.” 

↳ constant State of Annoyed: at times you’re just purely annoyed for no reason, typically more passive aggressively, but sometimes you’re just straight up honest about it. When he tells you good morning and reminds you how beautiful and glowing you are, you’ve said “I love you, but your voice sounds like a duck today,” or “I am not glowing, be honest, I look and feel like a blimp.” He still tries his best to compliment you, other times he just hides for the day. Until you become super needy at night.

↳ MamaBear Instinct already kicking in: you’ve become extra protective / defensive. One time you were at the store, around one A.M. (because cravings!) and you were picking out cereals together. Bucky was surprised to see some brands he knew still around: “wow, Chex?” he picked up a box, “I didn’t know they were still making these-“ he trialed off about the cereal, but you noticed some kids snickering a few feet down the aisle. “Then again, the last time I had these they tasted like cardboard,” Bucky winced, “probably cause they were made out of it back then-“ / the kids laughed again, despite the soft Hello Kitty pj pants you had on, you were far from soft. “HEY!” You called out, “are you laughing at him?!” Bucky turned to see who you were talking to, but before he had time to address them himself, he was reaching to stop you from lunging over the cart at them, “I will fucking fight you if you are!” / “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky completely stepped to block you, lifting his hands to meet yours gently, but you just tried to push them out of the way still flustered.

[sweeterthanthis]

Okay we had nomad Steve turning up in the middle of the night and that was hot as hell. What about when he has to leave though? 🥺

Oh, you had to go and make me feel things, didn't you? 😭

Word Count: Around 500.

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, very brief smut.18+.

Waking in Steve's arms never gets tiresome. Being pulled tight against that broad chest, the heat of his body warming your cheek. The scrape of his beard against your forehead, still damp from feasting between your thighs.

You don't get a lot of sleep when he's around - and you're not mad about it. Once in a blue moon, you get to have him like this. Get to have him to yourself. Not Captain America, but Steve Rogers. And every second spent with him, you treasure.

"Good morning, sunshine." He gruffs, arms squeezing you tighter for a moment - his perfect lips brushing your nose as you lift your head to look at him.

You could lose yourself in his sleepy gaze, eyelids still hooded from slumber. He sees you wince when you prop yourself up on his chest, looking you over with concern - his eyes falling to the purple welts on your collarbone from his lustful assault.

It doesn't stop him from filling you up once more, though. He's always more careful in the mornings, always gentle and tender. Because he knows what's to come. What always has to happen. No matter how much you both despise it. Whispers of affection and promises to return. And every single time, they bring you to tears.

You make him breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, fruit, fresh juice - more food than any normal human being could stomach. Being away from him for months at a time makes you want to look after him, makes you want to remind him that there'll always be someone waiting for him to come home. Someone who wants him for more than just his strength and his honor.

He fucks you again. Lifts you onto the kitchen counter like you weigh nothing, settles himself between your legs and savours it - your pussy still quivering from the countless orgasms he's already pulled from your exhausted body.

You shower together, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and your ear pressed up against his thumping heart. You'd stay beneath the hot spray, hidden away from the world, forever if he asked you to.

Goodbye is never easy. You hold it together, always. You know he doesn't want to leave, know that the life he's living now isn't the one he'd hoped for when he came out of the ice.

There are always dozens of last kisses, always hesitation when he moves to step out of the front door. You tell him it's okay - that you love him. Tell him to call you when he can, and come back when he's able. He always promises that he will. But every time he does, you wonder if it's a promise he can keep.