#nightmare just wants to make sure the others are taking care of themselves

[sansterballpro]

disclaimer: the nickname is used ironically

blue almost forgot his lunch, so nightmare had to catch him before he left!

he’s still working on the whole “let’s not scare the shit out of people accidentally”, but he’s doing his best :)

nightmare belongs to jokublog

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[zenruu]

A Needlessly Thorough Analysis of What Hardening Actually Means for Alistair

You can also read this analysis in a Google Doc if you find that format more palatable: here.

(I do recommend desktop for the comfiest viewing in either case, but both should be serviceable.)

Disclaimer: If critical discussion of a character’s feelings, motivations, and reactions to certain in-game choices could be personally upsetting to you, maybe don’t read this. None of this analysis is me judging you/your choices as a player, I am simply looking through the lens of Alistair’s characterization and the in-universe consequences of choices. Of course this analysis will be colored by my own bias, it’s inevitable. I can’t realistically include every potentially relevant line of dialogue, but I’m always happy to discuss if you think there’s something crucial I left out.

Hardened Alistair is often described as learning to stand up for himself and becoming more assertive, but why? Is it an accurate assessment? Even Alistair himself reacts to the hardening dialogue by saying he’s going to start thinking for himself and looking out for himself more, so surely it’s true… right?

To the contrary, I would actually argue that hardened Alistair tends to put others before himself more than unhardened Alistair. Let’s start by looking at how he becomes hardened.

The Hardening Process

After meeting Goldanna, Alistair is understandably devastated to find that the family he’s been dreaming of his whole life is not what he had hoped. He’s just been yelled at and turned away by the sister he’s never met, the only family he’s ever had a chance of knowing. He’s lost his hope at finding that sense of connection and belonging he’s always been looking for.

If the Warden wants to harden Alistair, they need to tell him, “Everyone is out for themselves. You should learn that.”

The message being sent is basically: suck it up, move on, grow up. This is the way the world is. Stop being so idealistic.

The message Alistair seems to receive, however, is a bit more complicated. In the follow-up conversation after meeting Goldanna, Alistair tells you that his takeaway from the hardening dialogue was that he needs to look out for himself more. This is, obviously, perfectly in line with the common belief that hardened Alistair is more assertive and more willing to stand up for himself.

But is that the reality that we see reflected in hardened Alistair’s choices?

Pre-hardening, Alistair tells you many times that he feels like no one cares what he wants; he believes it’s unfair and openly complains about it. Hardened Alistair, however, knows that no one cares what he wants and he accepts that as the way things are and must be. Unhardened Alistair will freely say he doesn’t want to be king and fights against it until he can fight it no more, while hardened Alistair will accept it, even going as far as to say he wants it.

Why would he change so suddenly from saying it’s his worst nightmare to saying he wants it? Does he mean it fully? Is this truly him seeking to fulfill his own wants and meet his own needs?

What actually changes if he’s hardened?

he is seemingly less reluctant about becoming king

if romanced, he will agree to a threesome with Isabela

he will agree to make you his mistress if you push the topic

if not married to Anora and chosen to fight Loghain, he will execute Loghain and take the throne

if not chosen to fight Loghain, he will insist on being made king

if married to Anora, he will become king instead of being exiled if Loghain is spared (Alistair will still leave your party, however)

he will approve of executing Jowan in Redcliffe

With the idea of “hardened Alistair putting his own wants/needs first” in mind let’s break them down one by one:

Note: some lines of dialogue have flags for “hardened”/“changed”, alternatively referred to as Alistair’s motivation being changed from “good to glory” or “Alistair 2”. These all refer to the hardening mechanic. The screenshots do have text that’s a bit small, because I wanted to be sure that I included the flags that show when lines are exclusive to hardened Alistair.

Less reluctance about becoming king

All along he’s said he doesn’t want it. You could potentially make a case that he didn’t truly feel that way and was only saying it because he’s insecure (which he is), but I don’t find this to be a terribly compelling argument. 

This is hardened Alistair’s response to being told he would be a good king after he’s decided to sacrifice himself. There are several lines like this that I feel contradict the theory that unhardened Alistair only says he doesn’t want to be king because he’s insecure in his abilities. It’s not that his insecurities are not a factor, it’s that hardening him doesn’t get rid of those things, meaning that this factor alone would not change his attitude about accepting potential kingship. In fact, he still believes that realistically Anora is better suited.

I’d argue that someone who has consistently said one thing without fail and is now only changing the tune after basically being told to shut up and grow up may not be expressing their truest desires. He is going along with what Eamon is telling him, with what the Warden is telling him, with what he’s told is his duty and responsibility. For the greater good, not for himself.

And you might be saying that can’t be true, hardened Alistair says he wants to be king!

Personally, I’d argue that Alistair saying he wants to be king is much the same as your average person saying they want a job. Do most people want to go to work every day? No, not really, but you have to because it’s just what you need to do. So when asked, you’d say you want a job. Of course you would, because you have to have one. But removed from that necessity, would you still say the same? Likely not. I believe the same holds true for Alistair. If he wasn’t being told at every turn that him being king is what must be done, he wouldn’t feel a need to bow to that.

Hardened Alistair confidently wanting to be king is often accepted as plain fact, when it’s really not so cut and dry. We can dig into some of his dialogue and really look at his feelings on the matter.

Hardened Alistair is saying he wants to be king. Even he’s surprised by it. But what is the context of this line? He’s about to sacrifice himself. He believes that his sacrifice–not living to rule–is the single best thing he can do as king.

But is it pure happiness and willingness, or is it a man simply trying to make the best of a situation he’s locked into? I vote for the latter.

I often see the argument that having a Warden queen would make him happier with the idea of being king, but by all evidence it really doesn’t seem to be the case. Here is his response to the Warden confirming that she does want to be queen. Alistair still doesn’t like the idea of ruling. This isn’t a line exclusive to hardened Alistair, he will always have this line available.

“I wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you” … “you owe me” … Even hardened, Alistair seems to see being king as something negative being thrust upon him. A punishment, perhaps? What would his response be to being told that being king is not a punishment?

On the surface, he agrees, but take a look at that VO comment for his actual feelings on it. He does consider it a punishment. This is indeed a line for hardened Alistair, as it occurs during the mistress conversation, which is a hardened Alistair exclusive.

Even if hardened, Alistair would prefer to stay a Warden if he can.

And if you don’t make hardened Alistair king? He’s grateful. Happy. Happier.

Agreeing to a threesome

Unhardened or hardened, he will push back when you suggest this. However, only hardened Alistair will relent and agree to it. Unhardened Alistair will simply refuse. Which one sounds more like someone standing up for his own wants?

This is the path the conversation goes if Alistair is hardened. His initial refusal and discomfort with the situation remains, but if you tell him to go along, he will.

He is, regardless, clearly not as comfortable with the situation as one should be. It certainly isn’t the kind of enthusiastic consent one would look for when asking someone to engage in a particular sex act. But he had fun, so it’s okay, right?

Well… did he have fun? Isabela jokes about borrowing him in the future and it seems quite clear that he isn’t interested in a repeat occurrence. Not only is he not interested, he’s awkward, uncomfortable. “Oh, but he makes a joke about wet frocks right after this!” He does. But it’s Alistair. He’s constantly making jokes to mask his discomfort.

Agreeing to making the Warden his mistress

Again, he will push back on this at first, only relenting if he’s hardened and you push the issue. If unhardened, he’ll stand by his original statement that he feels it would be wrong. Is he just saying he believes it’s wrong, or is that what he truly believes? Based on what we know of Alistair, I’d say it’s far more likely that he truly does find the idea of making the Warden his mistress to be disrespectful both to the Warden and to his wife, and that he is somewhat disregarding his own beliefs on that to bend to the Warden’s insistence that he take a mistress.

Whether he’s marrying Anora or not, his views on the matter are the same. He intends to be loyal to whoever he marries, and he knows he cannot do so if he continues the relationship with the Warden.

It’s clear that he finds the entire idea distasteful.

Much like the threesome, you do have to press him to get him to agree. He’s quite set in his beliefs on the matter, but he will acquiesce if the Warden pushes it.

Insisting on becoming king in the context of dealing with Loghain

These are the choices where I’d say there is potentially a case to be made that Alistair is making the decision he wants to make. However, I wouldn’t say that the decision being made is that he wants to be king. I would argue that becoming king is simply a means to an end to give him the power to get revenge in the way he wants.

In the first potential scenario here, Alistair will insist on being made king if he is not chosen to fight Loghain. Why? He wants Loghain dead, and he isn’t being given the choice to make that happen. He wants the power to make that choice, all else be damned.

Here you can see that hardened Alistair insists on taking the throne while making it abundantly clear that the reason for doing so is to take care of Loghain in the manner he wants.

Unhardened Alistair does the same. Why? Because the motivation remains the same whether he’s hardened or not. Unhardened Alistair simply hasn’t become so resigned as to pretend he’s any less displeased with it than he is.

In the second potential scenario, Alistair is chosen to fight Loghain and kills him. He finally achieves the goal he’s been working towards all along: getting his revenge on Loghain. He’s running on that high when Eamon immediately suggests he take the throne, he says yes, he’ll do it. There’s not really anything to break down dialogue-wise in this scenario, as his acceptance of the throne is the exact same dialogue as it would be in any other case. He simply says he accepts when it’s proposed.

Is it what he truly wants? Maybe. You could make a case for it. However, I interpret it more as running on that adrenaline high, feeling powerful and not fully thinking it over in the moment.

Accepting being king & marrying Anora if Loghain is spared

Alistair has been tunnel visioned on getting his revenge on Loghain the entire time, and this is the only circumstance in which sparing Loghain will not result in Alistair leaving and becoming a drunk. He both accepts marrying Anora (which he isn’t happy about) and sparing Loghain (which is very counter to his wishes).

He doesn’t like Anora and doesn’t want to marry her, but he does anyway. Hardened Alistair knows that marrying Anora is politically advantageous and prioritizes that over his personal desire to enact his vengeance, though he makes it clear to the Warden that his personal feelings on the matter have absolutely not changed.

Hardened Alistair goes along with marrying Anora after Loghain is spared and leaves the party, unhappy with the Warden’s choice to spare Loghain. If this line alone didn’t make his displeasure clear enough, there’s also this one:

He refers to the Warden’s actions as a betrayal. He’s obviously not happy.

Unhardened Alistair, however, stands his ground and refuses.

Approving of executing Jowan

Another case of a changed tune to go along with what the Warden is doing. Unhardened Alistair actively disapproves of the Warden executing Jowan. We could assume that hardened Alistair is just more pragmatic, or perhaps simply more willing to accept it when the Warden tells him this is what must be done.

There is no Alistair specific dialogue to look at here, just the approval points, so it’s really just a matter of looking at what we know of him and the situation. I would say in general Alistair values life and values mercy. Are there exceptions? Yes. Loghain, for example, whose crimes Alistair has judged worthy of death. Clearly unhardened Alistair does not feel that way about Jowan. Hardened Alistair though? He approves of his execution, but is it because he personally thinks it’s best or is it because he accepts the Warden’s judgment?

I would argue that it’s the latter primarily because it’s completely in line with everything else we’ve seen from hardened Alistair. There really are just no solid cases of hardened Alistair asserting his own will when compared to unhardened Alistair, so I don’t see this case as being any different.

In Review

In each case of behaviors changed by hardening Alistair, we see him putting his own wants and needs on the backburner in favor of an externally imposed sense of duty or to bend to another’s will because he accepts that his personal feelings are irrelevant. I’d go as far as to say that hardening is really a misnomer, because what we’re really looking at would be better called resignation.

I actually didn’t include every single line I found of hardened Alistair expressing the sentiments I’ve laid out in this analysis because I didn’t want it to be too long, but there is more in the game. Now I will get into less concrete analysis and a bit more of an explanation of my own personal opinions on hardening.

Aside from looking at what hardening actually means for Alistair, we can also question its necessity. Do you need to do it if you want to do certain things in Origins (threesome, mistress ending, etc.)? Yes. But I often see people argue that hardening Alistair is necessary for him to grow or mature as a person, and I completely disagree.

My personal opinion is that hardening Alistair is neither necessary nor kind.

In terms of helping Alistair to grow as a person, I maintain that Alistair will become more naturally “hardened”, or more accurately, he will mature on his own if you give him the chance to do so. Why do I say so? Look at Alistair in Inquisition. That is not the same idealistic young man we see in Origins, and this remains true regardless of hardening status. Whether it’s Warden Alistair or King Alistair, he’s clearly grown and changed.

Sure, you can mod the game to make the hardening dialogue more palatable, but that’s an entirely different discussion. As is, you’re required to essentially kick him when he’s down, and I simply do not find it to be necessary for his own personal development.

If it’s not already completely obvious by me doing all of this in the first place, I really, really love Alistair. Of course I’m quite settled and happy as an unhardened Warden Alistair truther, but I’m always happy to discuss and debate. I’m very interested in any thoughts you might have, whether you agree with my assessment or not (as long as you’re nice).

Thank you for reading my (almost sickeningly thorough) little analysis if you made it this far!

As a treat (or unhardened Warden Ali propaganda depending on your perspective), here's my Warden, miss Neria Surana with her very happy unhardened Warden husband:

[makies]

No Nut November with Honkai Stars Rail Men

How long does :: Jing yuan, Blade, Danheng, Sampo, Gepard, Welt will last NNN

It's May but I'm itching to write No Nut November with honkai star rail men and no one can stop me

Shortest to longest ::

Sampo — A day

Sampo just couldn't resist you. Seeing you sitting so pretty and so lonely on the couch (He's just using you as an excuse) just awakened something within him.

You could feel someone creeping up your legs under the blanket yet you keep your orbs on the television.

"Sampo, didn't you say you're participating in the NNN and you had a bet with the captain of the Silvermane guards?"

"Mhn." He let out a hum, skillfully removing your underwear before sticking his head out of the blanket.

"He won't know... Just one time baby, kay?"

+ It won't be just one time. He wants to have the best of his life while the captain suffers<3 ↑

+ He'd jerk himself while eating you out, making sure to give you another unforgettable night<3.

Danheng — A week.

I can see Dan heng knocking in your room at night, all sweaty. "You're having those nightmares again?" you'll ask and letting him in, and the both of you will cuddle while sleeping. It looks like a wholesome situation but is it?

Dan heng wrapped his arm around your small figure, placing his chin above your head—trying to doze off to sleep. You're always his safe place, his comfort zone. You're so nice that he wants to give a small thank you for using his actions<3

The young adult's hand that was placed in your dress unhurriedly travel at the end of your night gown, his hands ending at the back of your thighs, pulling the dress up til your waist—exposing your clothed cunt.

The raven haired latter could only grunt, feeling his pants getting tighter by every passing second. "Hmn." You groaned, shifting yourself a little and without knowing — Dan heng matches with your move, thrusting his hips upwards.

"Shh, go to sleep darling... let me take care of you."

+ You'll probably wake up while he's rutting into you — him trying to calm you down with a kiss. "It's alright it's alright, this is a gift for you."

Welt — Two weeks and three days

Welt yang could end the whole month if he wanted to. But March joking in front of him; saying that the other men are looking at you while you're out trailblazing at Jarilo VI got his stomach flipping.

"Welt!" You called out, one eye shut, biting your lower lip and opening your neck for welt to have more access. He took that as an acceptance, tossing you on the bed and hovering over you. "What's wrong, love?" You reach out your hand, touching his cheeks whilst the man just furrowed his brows, looking away from you.

"Do you..." He mumbled, making you raise a brow. "Do you also call them like what you call me?" He'll question, making you chuckle. He's so cute, you better show him that he's the only one you call 'love'.

"I love you, darling. Stay with me forever."

+ Welt will definitely join you in your next trailblazing mission or go in your place — gatekeeping you from those people.

Jing Yuan — The last day

Jing yuan is well known for being a patient man. He can endure the whole month without feeling your insides as long as you stay beside him, giving the physical touch and the quality time he needs.

The whole reason for him joining this 'NNN' is you. He wanted to know how long you can endure without him — he wanted to test his pretty lover<3.

It's the second week of november, Jing Yuan is coming home from work and he was welcomed by his lover in a lingerie, already pressing themselves to him. He could also release a chuckle at the situation, his lovely lover looking up at him with a pout in the mouth.

"Baby what would you do if it wasn't me who came home, hm? Letting them see you like that?" He teased, putting a hand on top of your head and a kiss in your forehead.

"I can't do this anymore, Yuan. You won't give in at all."

He'll deal with this every day, just throwing you in the bed and going straight to sleep with you in his arms so you won't do anything naughty.

On the last day, he'll probably give in because you'll come to his office, about to cry; asking him if he still loves you because he's been refusing you for a month.

He won't say a word at first, already flipping you around the table and pressing himself to you.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you kay?"

+ Will cum a lot inside you since he's been holding back — he's going to tell you specifically the days that he's so hard for you that he could only sleep to avoid touching because of this goddamn challenge.

The guys who actually finished it ::

Gepard — Finished the month

Gepard who made a deal with Sampo that whoever finish the month without touching themselves or their partner gets to have their own bets.

(Gepard :: will arrest sampo)

(Sampo :: gepard will stop chasing him)

And he really did it! There are times where you were really in the mood but the poor guy can't read it since he doesn't have any experience:(.

His job as the captain also helped him get distracted. But the amount of times you came to see him to bring him lunch with a beautiful dress hugging your body so damn good — ah, it makes his head spin. He swears to Aeons — he'll arrest sampo after this and fuck you good.

"Captain, your lover is really beautiful!"

"Yeah, the captain's so lucky!"

"Where'd you meet them, captain?"

His guards cheerfully asked their captain, yet their captain just gave them a smile, waving a hand off and entering his office. "I'm going to eat my lunch, please refrain from entering my office if not necessary."

Such a bad captain he is. Locking the door, Gepard immediately dropped the food, hurriedly opening his armor, putting the hem of his long sleeves in his mouth — revealing his perfect body, hands hurriedly going down to free his cock, hitting his stomach as soon as it was out. God, he was so hard yet couldn't touch himself — how is supposed to eat knowing that the food was given by you?

"Fuck [Y/n], what are you doing to me..."

+ The poor guy doesn't know that he already won:(

+ Will fuck you real good till you pass out. He only looks like an innocent guy on the inside<3.

Blade — Finished the month

Blade isn't the type who can finish the whole month if he's with you so he probably goes out to kafka to give him a task for a whole month and he'll come home at exactly 12 in the midnight at the end of the month, about to enter your door when he heard someone whimpering his name<3.

"Hah, Blade." You moaned your lover's name, a hand placed in your heat, and one in your nipples, toying with it, trying to make yourself cum. You can't. You just can't with your body who's used in the pleasure blade gives you — his long fingers, his long dick fucking you so dumb till you cum several times.

Blade found it amusing when he opened the door yet you still didn't notice him, a smirk display on his face — staring at your whole body intently.

You'll probably change position — turning to your back, face hitting the pillow and fingers in your hole. Sobbing so much when you wouldn't come, then suddenly, a bulge pressed against you — hot breath against your neck whispering;

"Couldn't wait till I get home, hm? Let me help you."

+ Blade would punish you, letting you cum one time and will edge you in the next ones because you didn't wait for him<3.

[Honkai star tail List]

[feefivefoe]

I fear that they would figure me out too quickly. I am so easily manipulated by someone acting pathetic 😔😔

The whole little brother act by Damian would get to me sooner or later and I fear that although Tim is 19, I would feel bad if he came to me after a "nightmare" 😞😞

I just hope that they don't play dirty, because I would be COOKED 😭😭

No you're so valid. I too like to baby pathetic meow meows.

But in my head, reader has to be unempathetic and uncaring because you don't live long in a city like Gotham by being sympathetic.

Caring about people is for those who have the luxury of resources to share. Bleeding hearts get snuffed out. And while reader isn't clinging to life, they aren't going out of their way to get killed.

But unfortunately for folks like you, at least half of the batboys are willing to be pathetic if it means getting the upper hand.

Dick and Tim have no shame. Both of them will cry while clinging to you about just how WORRIED they were about you. And how SAD they are that you HATE them soooo much! Won't you give your dear brothers just a sliver of affection?

Dick will try to monopolize you at times by being physically clingy. The others are just so much more touch adverse, and his love language is physical touch! He's just so sad that he can't properly express how much he loves his siblings! Won't you let him give you the affection he had failed to give for so long? He has so much to make up for! 🥰🥰🥰

Tim is a little more adaptable. Rather than pushing you into the mold he makes, he molds himself to your sympathetic nature. Not only did he have a nightmare, but he just finds it so hard to sleep while he's thinking about all the bad things happening in Gotham...won't you let him sleep in your room? Being around his (now) favorite sibling helps keep his mind at rest! And he's so sleep deprived...don't you want your little brother to get some rest? 🥺🥺🥺

Damian and Jason are much more reluctant to join in. They have more pride than that. And while Jason might be willing if you were mad at him like you were the others...he's already your favorite, he doesn't need to stoop so low. If he does find your attention slipping, he might 'unintentionally' trauma dump about how his death felt, his final thoughts, how the pit makes him feel...inhuman. About how Bruce made him feel abandoned, just like he did to you. What better way to firmly strengthen his position than trauma bonding, right?

Damian takes the longest to come around. Sure, he's the baby. And sure, he kind of played into it by insisting on strengening your familial bond. But he isn't a child! (Damian, you literally are-)

While the others infantilize themselves in a way to get your favor, Damian does it by doing the opposite. Don't look at him as somebody who needs coddling! He's going to look after you, because you're the one who needs him, not the other way around. You live such a better life now that he found you and got the others to bring you home. He'd never admit it, but he's envious of the attention the others get, but isn't willing to throw away his pride to do the same. He does have an advantage by being the youngest. You can't help but naturally baby him a little! And the scowl and scolding he gives every time does nothing to deter you!

[tastesousweet]

01 : Who’s the New Guy?

hamzah has a summer gig as the pool boy for one of his friends and y/n can’t help it if she’s just so intrigued by this friend of her brother’s.

01. 02. 03.

crushes came to you quite often.

you remember playground crushes; the boys you liked to stare at from afar as you played in the sand as a child. or the boys who frequented your prestigious ballet studio who were pretty and rambunctious which aided your curiosity. there was presley in high school who you found undeniably cool with his tattoos and effortless guitar playing skills; things ended with your heart torn at the fact that he admitted to enjoying your admiration and desire for him more than you and your entirety. he must’ve thought you were some ditz with the way he spoke to you that night : “i’m sorry, but i’m no liar, i never said i loved you, let alone liked you. in what world would we ever be together, y/n?”

your older sister, mina, has always told you boys are nothing but compliant lap dogs to the other boys around them; she warned you that you’ll never find one that would hold you because just because you asked (or even better if you didn’t have to ask), that he would make sure his buddy is wrapping his arms around a girl before he found it okay to do so. give and take, a fight for validation. a constant look around to ensure they’re accepted among themselves, “they’ll never learn to care if you except the bare minimum from them and it’s only worse that you’re so quick to accept any “love” without them having to at least try, y/n.”

she told you not to get caught up in the drama that came with boys (their breaking hearts and such) — or the other catty girls who were in competition to hold a guy’s attention for longer than a night in bed or date night out.

your older brother (who's also mila's twin) always claimed that your sister was spitting out a mouthful of bullshit whenever she’d start her hate-speech against men. this would typically lead the two to begin their own brawl, leaving you to solemnly look the other way, to find a safe piece of eye-candy that would surely turn your pupils into tiny black hearts.

while you tend to get a little fantastical about your intense desire for devotion and affection, your first, grounded love came in the form of ballet.

at age four you found yourself captivated by a small ballet theater production of sleeping beauty, you still fondly remember your great aunt accompanying you and the way she cried the entire time. you haven’t known a time where you weren’t amazed by the way you could move your body. you remember stretching yourself obsessively and eventually by age six you were watching late night shows with your family while maintaining a full split in front of the tv.

yet now, at nineteen that childhood dream you’ve worked towards your entire life feels like an overwhelming, burnt-out nightmare with clouded vision and harshly barked orders of “higher!” “now tighter!” “follow through!” “be consistent!” from your roster of highly established instructors, all fighting around in your head.

those first two years of school gave you a glimpse of what you’ve always thought you wanted — early mornings, strict diets, long days of structured dancing, endless nights of studying, eye bags covered in concealer, headaches from tight ponytails or buns, icing your knee caps on weekends, losing your mind and your poise demeanor without a doubt by the end of each semester. and above all you missed your parents, so bad.

so, after much pouting (and a few phone calls that consisted of you crying and blubbering about how broken down you’d become), your parents allowed for you to spend your summer break at home with them (rather than your usual confinement to an acclaimed, private ballet institution for the entire break), under the guise that you’d be training with your old high school instructor to ensure you maintain your pristine skill level. you were sure that obligation was easy enough, as you’d already been through the hell of it in the spring.

now the sun beats on your glowy skin as you lie on a cream lounge chair. the bikini you wear is a soft kiss of pink, decorated in tiny black polka dots, that leaves little to imagine. your long legs are crossed at the ankle, bare feet exposed with your toes painted an elegant matching shade of pink. your book is now abandoned at your hip as you gaze, with squinted eyes, at the boy stood across the lawn’s wide stretch of concrete. his focus is on cleaning your family pool — rarely stopping unless he finds it completely necessary to wipe away a growing layer of sweat from his forehead.

he’s hasn’t given you any attention, barely a glance over, nothing close to an introduction. yet he’s somehow become your new person of interest with such little effort or time. you’ve covered yourself in sunscreen (in a slow fashion just in case he wanted a teasing show mid-shift), flipped onto your stomach to show off the curve of your ass as you read a few chapters of a memoir (trying to focus on the words written in times new roman to avoid getting distracted by the tall man), you’ve gone inside to grab a pair of sunglasses (to have a reason to walk by him and gain a shield that allows you to stare without your eyes on display), after ten minutes you decided sunglasses made the world far too dark and you would rather he know you’re staring at him than stare and get a poor view.

there was something about his warm, beautifully tanned skin and toned arms working against his white wife-beater that hugged him well. and his face was so inviting — you liked it when he had a question about a certain pipe and went to ask your dad about it, as he listened he cracked a smile and gave a nod of his head in understanding. it’s unbearable that you don’t know his name, but you can imagine it’s something cute that you’d like the sound of when hearing your voice deliver it.

after a much needed bathroom break, you make your way back outside with a deep red, raspberry popsicle in your hand. you lick over the cold dessert a few times as you move closer to where the boy sits, obviously exhausted, with his head tilted down towards his knees.

“hi,” you speak, standing in front of him.

he seems to be caught off guard by your presence, flinching slightly before looking up (attempting to refrain from scanning over your exposed body), “uh, hey?”

“are you finished?” you question with a slight head tilt.

“oh, not really, i just have t’pressure check the jets in the hot tub. that’s my bad, ill get back to it.” he goes to stand but you place your hand gently on his shoulder so that he stays.

you both look at your hand’s placement then into each other’s eyes. you smile awkwardly, taking your hand off of him and begin pretending to dust something off of his shoulder, “… just some sorta feather or …” you clear your throat and retract your hand again, “sorry, um, i just thought i’d introduce myself. because- well, i live here and i guess i … just wanted to know your name,” you speak softly and bring the popsicle to your mouth to suckle a little more.

your eyes look at him with a sense and emotion he’s not sure anyone has in his entire life. you’re like a viper or siren, some sort of creature that’s hypnotizing him with beauty and desire. as he speaks you continue lapping the popsicle in your mouth, he clears his throat, “hamzah.”

“hamzah? i like it.” you love it.

“yeah?” he looks down at the popsicle that’s now slick from your mouth’s warmth, then he’s looking back in your eyes, “thanks.”

“how’d my parent’s find such a cutie to come pour chlorine in the pool?” you flirt.

“i mean i do more than pour chlorine in a pool, y’know i check the piping, change the tank …” your stare is so captivating it’s hard for him to not feel like blushing, “i’ll, uh, tell you all about it later. t’answer your question, i’m friends with leo and needed a summer gig before goin’ back to school.”

you can’t believe it’s true — your brother doesn’t have nice friends. your brother even doesn’t have friends with real jobs let alone any that plan to complete college. you laugh softly, “no, you’re not? i know all of my brother’s friends.”

hamzah shrugs his shoulders, “i mean, i guess we weren’t the closest in high school,” he pinches his eyes slightly, “you are the younger sister, right? the one who’s got all that dance business goin’ on?”

you shake your head in slight embarrassment at your description, “yes, that’s me with the “dance business”” you smile, “i’m y/n.”

“cool. s’nice to meet you,” he reaches his hand out and you place yours in his hold as you two shake hands.

── .✦

you were pouring a glass of water when the idea came to you; you knew hamzah was bound to be leaving soon but you craved to hear more from him. all it took was a slight (but very intentional) tumble of the words, “i wanna invite that new pool boy to stay dinner,” for your father to immediately agree.

he continues to stir at the sizzling vegetables in his pan, “oh! that’s a wonderful idea, sweetheart, open that for for me?” he nods towards the sliding glass door.

you try not to display your excitement too blatantly, but can’t help that your socked feet glide over to the door.

your father’s immediately calling out, “hey hamzah! c’mere a minute would’ya?”

hamzah immediately bolts over, he’s out of breath and surprised to see you leaning against the open door, “hey,” he directs to you but it’s sounds more like a gasp for air than a word.

“no running by the pool,” you whisper back, watching as his face of confusion turns into another smile.

“fair,” hamzah shrugs.

“hamzah, we were hopin’ you’d stay for dinner tonight?”you father speaks loudly, and the way he says it makes it sound like more of a statement than a question.

his face lights up, “sur-”

“say yes,” you warn through your teeth, knowing your father’s irritation with any use of a word as dismissive as “sure”.

“yes, um, yes that sounds great. thank you, sir.” he can see you giggling beside him, and when your father turns away he playfully nudges your side with his elbow.

── .✦

dinner was full of undying conversation and many overlaps in dialogue. never a dull moment.

“y/n, pass the mashed potatoes,” your brother calls out.

you whine, “leo, i just said my entire body hurts from training, i’ve passed it back and forth like four times already.”

“oh my god, and somehow your complaining just ruined my appetite, anyway. i can always count on you, y/n.” he laughs under his breath.

“that’s enough, now.” your mother speaks up, “but y/n, i’m getting worried, do you think you need some extra sessions dedicated to stretching?”

“i’m fi-”

“shoot, hamzah could give you some tips on stretchin’.” your brother jokes, “weren’t you in ballet?”

hamzah is completely flushed, “like, barely, my parents forced me when i was, like, seven-”

he’s cut off as soon as you register what this could mean for you, “wait, you’d really help me?” you ask with a sense of genuine curiosity, and a big, encouraging smile of course.

“hamzah i never knew you were so, multitalented.” your mother comments.

leo laughs, “he’s n-”

hamzah clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a small napkin, “well, yeah, i’ll help out wherever i can.”

“really?!” you’re relieved that he actually agreed.

“oh good fucking luck,” your brother sighs under his breath and claps a hand against hamzah’s shoulder.

── .✦

“don’t forget you need to meet me at the studio at 6 to beat the rush, wear something flexible, and remember to bring your smart brain and lots of patience — i can be kinda bitchy that early in the morning!”

hamzah sighs, returning to standing a few inches above you now that he’s done tying his shoes in your foyer, “as opposed to bringing my dumb brain and all of my impatience —” he smiles at you and but your face is plain and straight, “right. yeah, i got it all. you also wrote it down for me on my hand, remember?” he shows his hand with purple, glittery ink covering the palm.

your arms are crossed as you explain, “yes but that’s just unreliable- it’ll be gone by morning…” you shrug and watch as he pulls a sweatshirt in over his head, “and i need to tell you these things in case you forget about me and don’t set an alarm.”

he laughs as adjusts the sleeves of the mossy green sweatshirt, “i won’t.”

“cool.”

“so i’m wakin’ up at 10 and goin’ for breakfast then meeting up with you?” he jokes and immediately catches your hand in his own before you get the chance to push his shoulder. he laughs as he brings you close, keeping your hand in his as he offers a warm side hug. “i’ll be at the studio before 6, how about that?”

you nod as you pull away, “you better.”

“uh huh,” he opens your front door and finally calls out “good night!” to your family, who all echo the sentiment back to him. before he fully walks out he turns to you, with your hold on the tall wooden door, “bye, i’ll see you in, like, nine hours or somethin’.”

“bye, thank you,” you smile and watch him rush over to his car parked on the street, “don’t forget, hamzah!” you holler and watch his figure throw a thumbs up into the air before he climbs into his slightly janky car.

── .✦

you both were a couple of yawning, baby fawns with the amount of slow blinks and constant, accidental bumps into each other as you walked into the quiet studio and found your way into a private practice room.

the colors of the walls and equipment were various muted browns and light grays. you set your duffle bag on the ground and stretched your arms above you, “so, what exactly are we doing?”

hamzah rubs at his eyes, he’s clad in basic grey sweatpants and another white wife-beater, his hair is its usual curly with slight frizz from sleep, “umm, you’re the professional here?”

“hamzahhhh, you said you would help!” you drag while adjusting yourself onto the floor, stretching out your legs on either side of you.

“yeah! but i wasn’t expectin’ to have any stretches made! im not a yoga instructor, i was just gonna be your little assistant.” he moves to the ground with you.

“m’kay, here,” you flutter your fingers to encourage him to mimic your position and hold onto your forearms, “and now flatten your back and lean forward,” you both complete the action then return to sitting up.

“what do they always say? come on, deep breaths, in!” you both hold “and out,” you both release.

you smile at him,“you’re a natural, look at you!” you compliment.

the two of you complete your entire yoga flow that you’d do almost every day at university, before progressing into the most random yoga poses you’d heard of under the guise of “let’s just try it!”

there were a few fails due to lack of balance or the need to burst into laughter but generally you two worked well together.

just before you two left you asked hamzah to help you stretch deeper, as you lie flat on a mat, lifting your leg up boldly. “i just need you to kneel down and push my leg all the way into my chest for me …” you bite at your bottom lip to suppress a smile.

hamzah finishes his sip of water, watching you lie there in that tight yoga piece, dangling a foot in the air and inviting him to be so close to you. “yeah? ‘kay, guide me.” he sets the bottle down and kneels in front of you as you asked.

“mhm, yeah here i’ll just,” you move your leg onto his shoulder and bring his hand to your lower thigh, just above your knee, “right … there.” you let your hand linger on his before looking back at him. he’s already focused on your face and your next command, “just lean forward and bring my leg with you,” you accidentally let out the tiniest, whiniest little groan.

“m’sorry,” he whispers with wide eyes.

“no, don’t. it’s good, i needed this,” you remind.

“yeah, just breathe, you’re doin’ good.” he coaches while pushing your leg further.

── .✦

“mmm! if the girls in my class knew i was eating this i’d be skinned and shunned from the program!” you shake your head, raspberry jelly dribbling from the side of your lips. you’re more than grateful hamzah suggested you both stop by a small shop, only a block away, for some post-yoga sweetness.

hamzah continues to walk back towards the studio with you next to him, crinkling wax paper wrapping into his pocket, “that’s gnarly as fuck, you couldn’t even have like a single plain donut? just one?”

“no, and half of ‘em have heart palpitations at the thought of honey nut cheerios. i think donuts would end them, unfortunately.” you wipe your face.

“well, damn maybe ballet-in’ kinda sucks?”

“maybe.” you sigh and bring the large jelly donut up to his mouth as he bites, “what’d you think it was like?”

he shrugs, chews a little, then answers, “i dunno- fun?”

you let out a soft laugh and take another bite. you’re just a little annoyed that hamzah makes it far too easy to crush on him — how dare he be so pretty and kind and actually interested…?

── .✦

a/n: hiii first part of my short series for hamzah! yaaayyy!! hope u all liked this, i did not proof read too in depth so im kinda just prayin it makes sense. love ya! <3

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 3,160 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, manipulation, crying, mentions of the s-word, mention of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares. A/N: I'm sorry I breathe pain but I love you:"💜x(also if you have any suggestions for these two just let me know). please enjoy💜 ~ Before Mrs. Morrison arrived, Bucky had made sure to make her a proper breakfast for the first time since she's been at his house. She couldn't need for anything today.

Showered: check Fed: check Properly dressed: check

“And then what?” He asked, closing the peanut butter jar. “Then we pour the warm milk,” she instructed with a soft smile, helping Bucky prepare her meal. “I thought you were supposed to make this with cold milk.” “That’s just what the box says, but we’re not gonna listen,” she whispered as if scared to hurt the cereal box’s feelings. Bucky chuckled despite himself and finally, unintentionally allowed her a glimpse of something other than a frown. “You’re pretty,” she told him with a dreamy smile, already blushing at the fact that she made him smile. “Hey!” Bucky glared again as if he's just been insulted. “Sorry,” she huffed, looking at her breakfast being stirred. “You better be.” Bucky didn’t know why he acted so defensive or why he wanted her to be sorry. It was like there was something inside of him repelling anything nice or sweet that could be thrown his way as if it was a contagious virus. “Eat your breakfast so we can fix that hair of yours. Can’t believe you managed to mess it up again,” Bucky told her, walking away from the kitchen. “Bucky not gonna eat?” She tilted her head in question. “Mind your own business,” Bucky threw rudely, still avoiding her attempts at caring for him. She huffed again as she watched him sit before the TV, pretending to be focused on anything but her presence in his apartment. She had to take matters into her own hands. Ever so slowly, she rounded the kitchen counter and slightly opened the same cabinet Bucky had opened to get her a bowl out of. Thankfully, she found one other bowl. Twisting her hand side-ways, she pulled it out of the small opening she made in the cabinet door in slow motion in order not to alarm Bucky. And while he drowned in his own thoughts, she started preparing him a similar corn flakes bowl so he could have breakfast too. On the other side of the room, Bucky’s mind was attacking him with thoughts. What was he going to do during those three months? He’d already had his face flushed and his heart beat going a million per second when he had to give her a shower yesterday. He couldn’t believe the first time he got to see a naked lady after 70 years, it had to be her. A lady who wasn’t really a lady. He felt dirty. Like he shouldn’t have been doing that. She sounded so young but looked old enough and it messed with his head. How many more times was he supposed to do this again during those three months? “Here, Bucky,” she cut off his thoughts, carefully bringing forth a bowl of corn flakes in warm milk with honey. “Why didn’t you eat?” Bucky rolled his eyes, thinking she probably wanted him to feed her now. It was probably her chance while he was doing everything she wanted so that she wouldn’t rat him out to Mrs. Morrison. “It’s for Bucky,” she explained, setting the bowl before him on the floor. “Who said I wanted to eat that goo?” Bucky glared at her for acting like she knew what he needed. “It’s delicious, I promise. Give it a try.” She held a half full spoon up to him. Bucky was still as a statue, looking at her with a frown. He was too angry to even blink. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help.” He seethed through his teeth. “I know. But I wanted to share.” Her shoulders slumped, as she put the spoon back in the bowl. Bucky felt a tiny bit remorseful. No one’s made him food since his mom and internally, he was kind of grateful. But of course, he wouldn’t let it show. “Fine, gimme that,” he snapped, taking the bowl off the floor and shoving a spoon in his mouth. It was actually good, homely and soft enough to chew but not too saggy. Something about the taste of corn and the honeyed milk made Bucky warm inside. As Bucky chewed on his food, she ran back to the kitchen counter, picking up her bowl too and coming back to sit next to Bucky on the floor. “Do you like it?” She asked before slipping her spoon in her mouth. “I don’t hate it.” He shrugged, refusing to give her the pleasure of being right.

If only he knew she never cared about being right. “I’m happy you like it.” She beamed. “I didn’t say that.” “Fine.” She pouted, swirling her spoon around without eating. Bucky felt weird, almost like he felt bad. After all, she’d warned him about the visit and practically saved his butt from Sam and most importantly, his therapist. “Why didn’t you put peanut butter in mine?” Bucky nudged her with a question, refusing to utter a clear apology for his harshness. “Bucky doesn’t like peanut butter on cornflakes,” she whispered, still facing down and moving her spoon around the bowl. “And how did you know that?” Bucky raised his eyebrows because really, how did she know that? Do they give her a file too? “You said “ugh” while adding peanut butter to my cornflakes,” she explained simply. Huh. So she was observant and kind of… smart. “Eat your food,” Bucky said, holding the tip of her spoon to stop her from twirling it. He thought he used a gentler tone but apparently that wasn’t the case because she still looked melancholic. He didn’t have patience for this, for fuck’s sake! Bad word, his mind replied. So she was inside of his head now too?! “Ugh, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, not sure why he did. Because he didn’t care.

He didn’t. “Why do you hate me?” Her small voice asked, sounding sadder than he’d ever heard her sound before. Her question surprised him and he stopped chewing. Bucky frankly had no idea why or if he hated her. He’d told himself he hated her on her first night here, but that was just because she invaded his space and overwhelmed him by doing everything he wasn’t used to. But now that he had to think about it, did he actually hate her? The answer was no and Bucky knew it. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky murmured, setting his bowl down and picking up hers. “You just confuse me very much.” Bucky held her spoon up to her lips. She looked at him and the spoon with so much hope that Bucky felt absolutely shitty for pretending to be nicer to her for the sake of today’s visit.

On the other hand, she couldn’t believe Bucky was offering her the spoon, feeding her. But Bucky didn’t care. He just needed this to go well, and he wasn’t about to let her ruin it because she wanted to have a long face today. “Confuse Bucky? Why? Doll never lies,” she said, her tone sincere and eyes begging Bucky to believe and trust her. Yeah, Bucky felt terrible. He decided that if he kept answering her with the truth that might take some of the guilt he was feeling away. “It’s not about lies,” Bucky replied, nearing the spoon to her lips more so she could eat. She complied and took the spoon into her mouth, wanting to hear more. “It’s that this is all new to me. This kind of stuff never existed in the 40s.” Bucky shrugged, getting another spoon ready. She ate the cereal obediently, chewing quickly so she can ask a question. “But Bucky doesn’t hate me?” She looked at him like her life depended on his answer. “No, Bucky doesn’t hate you,” Bucky chuckled at how cute she looked talking with food in her mouth, but quickly controlled himself. “Bucky just needs time to get used to everything.” She realized out loud, making Bucky swallow apologetically. Has he just been understood for the first time in years by someone other than Steve? It was the truth. Bucky needed time to get used to this and her. The only lies were that his actions weren’t because he really cared and that he didn’t want to get used to this or her. He tried hard to ignore the feeling the mere action of feeding her gave him, too. Taking care of someone like that? It felt good for some odd, unknown reason. Bucky nodded in reply, continuing to feed her, “yeah, I need time.” “I promise I’ll give you time, Bucky. I won’t annoy you no more.” Her eyes were genuine as humanly possible when she cradled his metal hand as it held her bowl and Bucky felt a pang in his chest. How could anyone be so patient and pure, especially these days? He couldn’t believe she still had it in her to consider how he felt in spite of the way he’s treated her. She must know nothing about him or his past. A knock on the door pulled Bucky out of his head and he swallowed nervously, putting the bowl down and standing up to answer the door. She took her bowl and his and quickly moved to sit on the couch, knowing it would look better that way. She was going to do her best to make everything easier on and for Bucky from now on and for the rest of her time with him. ~ After Mrs. Morrison has greeted them both and privately talked to Bucky in the kitchen, she took Doll to the bedless bedroom, wanting to make sure she really was okay. “Listen, doll, don’t feel like you have to do this. If Bucky is unwelcoming, you can come with me right now,” she reassured the girl, never wanting her to go through an unpleasant experience. “I’m okay, Mrs. Morrison, I promise.” She smiled. “Are you sure? Because I know he’s not the nicest I’ve ever met,” Mrs. Morrison joked, making the younger girl laugh. Of course, she had no idea that with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he could hear them. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure. Bucky is not evil, he’s just misunderstood,” she told her, her tone sure. Now that had Bucky intentionally eavesdropping. What did she just say about him? “Is he now?” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “Yes, I swear! Even by himself.” She defended. “And how is that?” the woman was genuinely interested in making sure her girl wasn’t being abused.

“Big me read about him in the library before. He’s not a bad man. He’s a hero, Mrs. Morrison, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t think he deserves nice things but he does. He deserves all the nice things!” Bucky was wordless at her speech. Was that how she really thought of him? “But is he good to you, doll?” Mrs. Morrison asked. This was supposed to be the question he worried most about being answered, but Bucky was still frozen, trying to recover from the way her previous words hit him. “Yes, he’s good to me. Even got me a new stuffie!” She told the older woman excitedly without even taking a second to think about her answer, completely omitting the fact that she practically begged him to get her that stuffed animal. “Oh, really? I didn’t see it!” Mrs. Morrison was starting to feel good about this, thinking that maybe she’d misjudged Bucky. “I keep it in my bag when I wake up because I don’t wanna lose it. It’s a white wolf, just like Bucky!” “Just like Bucky?” the woman frowned in confusion. “It’s the name Bucky was given in Wakanda,” she explained. Bucky felt warmth spread throughout his chest for the first time in decades. She knew all that? “You’ve really done your homework huh?” Mrs. Morrison teased, getting up from the floor with Doll. “Big me likes history and research… and cute guys,” she giggled with a shy shrug, making Bucky huff half a chuckle. “Alright then, I will leave you with this cute guy and I’ll come back next month, okay? But until then, I want you to promise to take care of yourself, doll.” “I will, Mrs. Morrison,” she promised politely, giving the woman a tight hug, “thank you for coming.” Bucky closed the door behind the older lady, relieved that the visit went well. He let out a breath he was holding and stood with his back to her, unsure about what he should do. “Bucky,” she called out. “What’s wrong now?” Bucky huffed as he turned around. He felt bad when he saw her soft smile reaching her eyes at the sight of him just looking at her, but he couldn’t let it get to him.

He did what he had to do to save his ass.

She said a lot of nice things about him, but that didn’t mean he was going to yield to this unwelcomed, unwanted situation that Sam’s gotten him in. He didn’t need this. He wasn’t the one to start all this. “Do you wanna draw together?” She played with her fingers nervously. “I don’t know how to do that. You draw, okay?” Bucky said, showing no interest as he started putting his shoes on. “Bucky leaving?” Her voice was chocked with held up tears. “Yes.” He grabbed his keys, trying his best not to look at her dejected face. “But—” “You didn’t seriously think I would magically start wanting to spend time with you, did you?” She involuntarily let out a tiny gasp, hurt at the fact that he just manipulated her for the one reason that is Mrs. Morrison’s visit. “You gonna start crying again?” He made fun of her as he pulled his gloves on, not in the mood for the public stares. “Bucky!” she whispered, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Don’t wait up if you wanna fall asleep.” With that, Bucky slammed the door behind him, locking it and leaving her alone. She just fell on the couch, sobbing as her fists grabbed at her own knees.

How stupid was she? He’s already told her he never wanted her. Why would he suddenly want to spend time with her? Just because he fed her a couple of spoons? Stupid. Maybe she should’ve acted exactly the way he’d expected her to from the beginning. Maybe Bucky was right, there was nothing she could do to help. She wasn’t here to fix anything. Her presence was just a thing Bucky had to put up with, nothing more. ~ As Bucky walked down the street, he wanted to bang his forehead on the nearest wall. Why didn’t he just tell her he was going to get them food like he actually was? Why did he have to be mean and rude? He didn’t want to get her hopes up, he knew that. But that certainly wasn’t the best way to let her know. He could’ve talked to her and she would’ve understood. She was smart and far from a ‘retard’ like he’d so unfairly called her before. But no, he couldn’t get too close. He wouldn’t let her involve him in whatever she was doing. Whatever. Bucky didn’t want to think about her or her feelings. Or about the way her eyebrows knot when she’s about to cry... Or the tremble of her lower lip before the very first tear falls out… Damn it, he fucked up. Bad word, she would say… Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in defeat as he walked towards the nearest grocery store he knew of. ~ I'm sorry. I’m. Sorry. I am sorry Bucky quietly practiced before his closed door as if it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He needed to make this right. It really wasn’t her fault that they were making him do those things. She was nothing but sweet to him despite everything he’s done to and with her. When he was ready enough to open the door, however, her eyes weren’t on him like he’d expected and wanted them to be. In fact, they weren’t on anything because she was asleep. Bucky sighed as he dumbly waved the pizza box above her sleeping body. She didn’t have lunch because she was spending time with Mrs. Morrison and now she was asleep without dinner either because of him and his stupidity. “Hey,” Bucky called softly, well, softer than he’s ever talked to her. She didn’t answer, pretending to be fast asleep with her face buried in the corner of Bucky’s couch. He couldn’t see anything but her stuffed ducky looking back at him as if in blame. Oh. She was back to hugging her old stuffed animal. Not the white wolf Bucky’s gotten her. Bucky understood now that he’d messed up big time. She clearly didn’t angelically forgive him without an apology this time. He carelessly threw the unopened pizza on the kitchen counter, taking his jacket off and his place on the floor. He had no appetite now. He turned on the TV on silent and turned the lights off before letting out one long sigh.

She felt so bad because Bucky hasn’t eaten anything all day either, but she was too sad with him to do anything about it. Bucky didn’t want her to care for him, so she was going to finally listen to his wishes. When Bucky woke up from his nightmares that night, she had to continue pretending like it didn’t wake her up too. She squeezed her eyes shut and continued to bury her face in the cushion despite herself. No lullabies were sung and no water or tissues were offered. It was just Bucky lying alone on his floor again, sweaty, traumatized and regretful as one could be. She heard him moving around and apparently he was dressing because a minute later he left the apartment. When she peeked through the blinds, Bucky was jogging down the street. It was 4 am and she knew she couldn’t pretend to be asleep forever, but she’ll continue trying for now. ~ When Bucky came back from his 3-hour run, he had finally calmed down and he had a solid apology ready on the tip of his tongue this time. He was going to make this right and he was going to do it now. “Bucky.” He heard her panicked voice call his name and instantly fell into a protective mode he didn't know existed within his system. “I had an accident.” Bucky followed her tearful eyes down and when he looked at her bloodied PJ pants, Bucky was panicked too. He's seen a lot of blood, shed a lot of blood, but the sight of blood on her clothes freaked him out more than anything he has ever seen before. “What happened?!”

part III

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting

[bombsquad9]

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐭𝗼 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝗼𝐧𝐬 (18+)

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•SFW•

✞ Takes a LONG time to get them to show you their face, they think you’re gonna be repulsed or leave them, and they can’t lose you. Probably would cry if you told them they’re pretty and that you still love them because they’re just so convinced they’re ugly.

✞ It takes Nikto awhile to warm up to touch, but once they do they’re always wanting to have their hands on you. They’d be the type to link pinkies as you walk through the street/mall/etc so that they don’t lose you.

✞ Will touch your face in the middle of the night or just stare at you to make sure you’re real, sometimes they feel like their mind is slowly slipping because of the voices, so it’s really reassuring for them.

✞ Would be utterly obsessed with you. Sometimes it’s unhealthy, but they have to have you because they’re terrified of someone taking you away. It calms down when you assure them you’re not gonna leave.

✞ Has full mental breaks because of the voices and flashbacks. They have extreme nightmares that are really vivid due to the torture, so sometimes they just want you to hold them. There would be moments they would get extremely distant due to not being able to express themselves.

✞ Seeking reassurance a lot, the voices put them down to the point they don’t wanna look in the mirror (more than they already don’t). Will get extremely upset sometimes because the voices are putting you down or convincing them you’re gonna leave.

✞ Extremely attentive to your needs and what you want. They put you way before they put themselves, to the point it is a little concerning. They think showing you is better then telling you, considering they aren’t good with words and because they’re more of the listening type anyway.

✞ 100% scary dog privileges. If someone tried to touch you or even look at you a little too long, they’re walking up and holding your hand or something. Can’t have anyone taking their pretty little gem.

✞ Would teach you cute little phrases in Russian (if you didn’t know it already), and silently chuckle to themself when you mispronounce something. They think it’s cute and can’t help it.

✞ If someone dare hurt you they’d definitely ‘take care’ of it.

✞ Would leave you cute little notes letting you know where they were if they had to go out for some reason. They’re probably a little dry, but it’s still cute they’re willing to do that.

✞ They probably text really dry too, but it gets the point across. They just show their love in other ways.

•NSFW•

✞ Safe word is 100% necessary for them. They’re scared the voices might take over or get to loud and make them do something they’ll regret.

✞ Make-out sessions are very sloppy. Lots of teeth clashing a spit because they’re scared you’re gonna get ripped away from them, and the scars that leave half of their mouth open definitely don’t help. If you ask them to slow down they’ll try their best too.

✞ Mutters sweet praises in Russian, especially when they’re close. Each word a little stuttered, and sometimes even mispronounced because you just feel soooo good wrapped around them.

✞ Would want the mask to stay on, but the moment you fuck their brains out and praise their pretty little face it’ll never be on again. <3

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𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: None Currently

A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

[sanguineterrain]

hii this is my first time requesting sth so i hope its okay. what about spencer dating a reader who is asexual or takes a long time to be comfortable with intimacy but people are always asking if he’s getting any and reader feels like she isn’t enough

if not that’s totally fine thank u anyways

(this isn’t self indulgent wdym)

Thanks for requesting lovely. you are definitely not alone in feeling this way 🩷

fem!reader. you feel insecure after derek makes a harmless joke about how often you and spencer meet for lunch

****

Spencer forgets to eat lunch.

It's just a fact. He doesn't always forget, but he forgets enough for you to meet him for lunch when you can or shoot him a reminder text.

Today, you have a day off, so you decide to visit. Spencer tells you he'll meet you at the entrance so you don't have to go through security and get a visitor's badge. You think it's a little ridiculous that you have to do that every time, but according to Spencer, it doesn't take much time at all for people to become a danger to others and themselves.

Not that I think you would do that! he's always quick to add. You adore him.

He gets off the elevator with Agent Morgan. You watch as they approach and Morgan sees you, then claps Spencer's shoulder.

"Oh, so this is where you disappear to for lunch," he says, wrinkling Spencer's shirt. You can tell Spencer notices right away and is mildly annoyed. He shrugs his friend off.

"What're you talking about?" Spencer asks, pursing his lips.

Agent Morgan grins. "How many lunches out do you need, Reid? Seems like you're always forgetting food. 'S not like you."

Spencer looks at him, brows furrowed. "I need one a day, according to the general medical opinion. And my lunch breaks aren't that long."

You suddenly feel queasy.

"Uh-huh." Agent Morgan just grins that sly grin. "Don't be too long. Have fun, you kids."

You walk out. Agent Morgan goes the opposite direction of where you parked your car. Spencer's warm hand squeezes your arm affectionately.

"Hi," he says. "I actually brought lunch today, I just wanted to eat with you, so I lied and told everyone that I don't have lunch so we can be alone."

"Sweet of you." You voice is thin.

"Are you okay?"

You try to keep walking, but hello! Behavior analyst boyfriend alert. Spencer gently tugs you to stop and face him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, forehead crinkled in concern. "Your voice has a tremor."

"Did you tell Agent Morgan that we have sex during your lunch breaks?" you ask, folding your arms.

"What? No, I don't—no!"

"Because I know I've been making you wait, Spencer, and I know I keep saying I'll be ready at some point, but it's really shitty if you're telling people that I stop by just to give you head in your car or something."

Spencer's mouth opens and closes a couple of times in genuine, horrified shock, like when he'd found you hunched over the toilet in pain months ago during a bad stomach flu, and you realize then that you're way off the mark.

How could you think that? Of course Spencer wouldn't do that to you.

"Spencer, I'm—"

"I would never say or imply that. I don't even—I'm not mad or resentful of the fact that we haven't had sex, okay? I wouldn't care if you never wanted to have sex. I don't date you because I'm hoping to 'hit it and quit it.'"

You both cringe at his choice of words. Spencer sighs. "Okay, never using that phrase again. But it's true. I'm not waiting you out, and I'm definitely not talking about us having or not having sex to anyone at work." He shudders. "My living nightmare."

"I'm sorry. You're right, you wouldn't say that. I know you wouldn't. You wouldn't tell people even if we were having sex."

Spencer shakes his head emphatically. "Of course not."

Of course not.

"Then why did Agent Morgan imply that we were leaving to do it on your lunch break?" you ask unhappily.

"He was implying that we were sneaking off to have sex?" Spencer asks. "Are you sure?"

You frown. "Yeah, Spencer. He was teasing you about taking long lunches and always going out with me because..."

He nods in understanding. "Oh. That's... weird. Okay. I'll tell him not to say that stuff. I'll say that it bothers me."

You rub your arms self-consciously and turn your body away from Spencer. "It's not that weird for him to think, though. I do stop by a lot. And you're a young guy. Other guys your age probably visit their girlfriends during lunch and do that."

Spencer raises his eyebrows. "That seems excessive. And risky. And highly unsanitary. And uncomfortable. And—"

"Okay." You laugh a little. "I get it, Spencer. You're not like other guys."

"Story of my life."

"I guess I'm not really like other girls either," you say. "Having sex on your lunch break is probably more normal than dating for six months and never having sex."

Spencer frowns. "There's no such thing as normal. There's socially accepted behavior and opinion and laws and a bunch of made up crap that a lot of people are too afraid to challenge. I'm about the furthest from normal that you can get."

Your mouth flattens. "You're not bad, though."

"Exactly!" Spencer kisses your cheek, startling you. He doesn't often initiate kisses, preferring to show affection in his own way. You don't mind when he does kiss you though.

"Exactly," he says. "And neither are you. I doubt that how you feel about sex is so unusual. But even if it was, it wouldn't make a difference to me. It's how you feel, and I respect it. If I had a problem with it, we wouldn't be dating."

You glance down the block, at the building entrance. "But people might talk."

"Derek wouldn't," Spencer says firmly. "He jokes, but he would respect this if I told him to."

"It's not him, Spence, it's just..." You shake your head. "I've hit a stumbling block with every guy I've dated because they thought I was a prude, a tease, frigid. One guy said I needed shock therapy."

"I don't think that," he says softly. "I don't think any terrible things about you for feeling this way."

"No? You haven't tried to profile me based on my aversion to intimacy?"

Spencer's face scrunches with sadness. "No. You're my girlfriend, not a suspect. This isn't something I have to diagnose. I love you. I like spending time with you. Please don't think that I don't have the capacity to know what I want in a relationship. You don't have to be suspicious of me. I have nothing to hide about how I feel."

"People might think something's wrong with you for dating me," you say.

Spencer shrugs. "So what? People already think something's wrong with me. Doesn't mean they're right. I currently hold the record for the longest relationship in the BAU, besides Hotch. I'm the winner."

You sigh. Everything you throw at Spencer about how he should run while he can, he has a response for.

You might just give up and keep on letting him love you without any strings attached.

"Have I convinced you?" he asks. "I'm really good at debating."

"No kidding," you say. "I'm surprised you didn't become a lawyer."

"Hotch says there's still time." Spencer smiles. "Wanna go to that Thai place three blocks from here?"

Spencer loves the Thai place. It's one of his safe restaurants. You like it too, mostly because of how much Spencer likes it. And you trust his recommendations. He always checks the health inspection grade before eating somewhere.

"Don't you have lunch?"

"I have a peanut butter sandwich in my desk and I'll probably stay late. It'll keep."

"Okay." You lean in and kiss Spencer. He responds immediately, stroking your cheek with his thumb. The tenderness overwhelms you.

"You're really nice," you whisper.

"You deserve a nice boyfriend," he says. "And Chicken Satay. I'll get you both."

You link your arm with his as you begin to walk.

"Is six months really the record?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it."

[fancyfeathers]

For darling mom and daughter the dark idea that came to mind is the kids wanting to be cared for lot. Wanting their mom to help them when they get injured, wanting to sleep next to her when they have a nightmare or to cuddle up to her. They care little of how they are seen by her. Like dick or Jason coming home beat up only to strip to almost nothing and look pleading at mother reader for her to treat their wounds. The daughter is treated the opposite never given a chance to be alone dispite her age. As she grows up it's still " here let me help you change" or " you threw up let's get you to a shower" and being willing to undress her and or themselves around each other. Like after a mission having Nightwing pull off the spandex off and

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling

Oh my god yes

Like the idea of Mother!Darling going to the cave to grab something she left down there when she was talking to Bruce before he left for patrol and she sees Dick, wounds and bruises clear as day when he is taking off his suit and sure she helps, wrapping up his wounds and helping him upstairs so he can lay down, but after once or twice of this happens it develops into a pattern, Dick is the most often who pulls this, then Stephanie, Tim, and occasionally Jason, even Damian once or twice. Then eventually she starts to develop a pattern herself, not bothering to stay up and wait for them all to get back, after all she had no desire to play the role of dotting mother and wife, she just decided to not bother staying up to two or three in the morning.

Now Cassandra may be the one who likes physical affection the most though she doesn’t do what the others pulled with their wounds since she knows Mother!Darling is uncomfortable with the sight of blood, but say if she does get a bad dream at night she may go and crawl into bed with Mother!darling either taking Bruce’s spot in bed if he doesn’t go to bed that night or snuggling between them. Actually one of my personal headcanons is that Cass has nightmares a lot because of what she has been through.

Now Damian on the other hand also does this but he will never admit that it was a nightmare, he’ll go to his father’s and stepmother’s room and if Bruce is gone he’ll say that he was just going to watch over her in case anything happened while she sleeps since she is a heavy sleeper and is easily prone, but in the morning he is curled up to her chest or side like a little kitten while holding on to either her clothes or touching whatever flesh he can as if he is scared she’ll disappear if he lets go. If his father is sleeping with her then he’ll go to daughter!darling’s room with the same excuse and most of the time she tells him to fuck off but he ignores her and gets into bed with her anyway and pulls her so tightly to him that she thinks she may suffocate.

Tim is another one like this but he just goes to his little sister, he won’t even wake her up or make up an excuse, he’ll just get into bed with her or carry her over to his room and just hold her like a teddy bear, squeezing on her stomach or thighs almost like how a cat would make biscuits on n their favorite human. So she’ll normally wake up as the little spoon or sleeping on her stomach with Tim partially on top of her, one hand on her stomach and the other on her thigh while he is out cold.

Then there is Dick also with daughter!darling, she goes over to stay with him in Bludhaven every so often and he also has her sleep with him as a safety precaution. When she sleeps with him it is sort of how some infants sleep with their parents, all wrapped up warm and Dick holding onto her hand or his arms wrapped around her. Then if Barbara is over then she sleeps between them, if just gets so much hotter because of how much heat three people radiate.

But then again, so many things are forced on daughter!darling, like little activities with the family that she doesn’t want to do or feel too young for her, they do treat her like a child, like being in the car with Dick or Tim and they hand her a ziplock bag with snacks like a child would have packed for snack time at school, she’ll tell them she’s got hungry but especially either of them will start lecturing her about how her doctor said she was still barely growing and when you’re growing you need to eat more than other times.

Then if she makes a mess like throwing up or getting paint on herself then it’s bath time, I don’t think there is a shower in her bathroom. Normally it’s Tim or Dick who does that sort of thing, carrying her to the bathroom like a baby and setting her down on the sink counter and turning on the faucet to fill the tub before helping her get undressed, well help is not the best word since she does not really have a choice. Her clothes will land in the laundry basket and she will be thrown into the bath tub. Now Tim, he may just sit down in the bathroom nearby while working on something just to make sure she doesn’t get out early and if she doesn’t bathe herself then he’ll do it for her. Dick on the other hand will roll up his sleeves and be the one washing her down, pouring cups of water into her hair to get all the shampoo and conditioner out and washing down her skin with a cloth or sponge.

[charliedawn]

Hi hi!

It's been a while since over requested anything but I've been keeping track of your posts and I am still in love with your writing style!!

I was wondering if I could have the slashers with a nurse wo already has 5 kids but is a single mom?

When it comes to her kids safety she turns into a complete animal like mama bear style....

Her children are smart in their own ways and are very close nit, but they always look out for their mother.

Thanks if you do this!

❤️ anon

P.s please take care of yourself! And drink lots of water and eat healthy meals!!!

Jason would be quietly protective, his natural instinct to shield others kicking in as he watched the kids play. He might not say much, but he’d be the first to step in if any danger appeared. He’d probably even enjoy the occasional moments when one of the kids quietly sits beside him, without fear, just being present.

But…Jason is afraid of children. He knows they can be cruel. So he wouldn’t approach the kids if he can help it. He would first need reassurance that they are good kids who wouldn’t be mean to him. I think your kids would be safe with him, but be careful as Jason is still a kid in his head and kids usually do not realise what they are doing until it is too late…

He might get scared.

Bo would put on his usual tough front, pretending that he’s unfazed by all the noise and mess. But over time, you’d notice him helping fix things around the house without asking, muttering under his breath that he’s “just keeping the place from falling apart.” And you might catch him joking with the older kids, giving them advice like an older brother might. He would eventually warm up to the kids. (And they would watch Cars together cause duh…cars. 🤣)

Your kids wouldn’t necessarily see him as a threat cause they know his true love is cars.

Pennywise and Penny would likely be the most chaotic around the kids, trying to keep them entertained in their unique way. They’d take turns clowning around (literally), teasing and laughing, but always making sure the kids were safe. Pennywise might grumble about all the work, but deep down, he’d appreciate the chaos that reminds him of his bond with Penny. Also, they would create illusions and Penny would even turn himself into a poney to have some fun with the kids. They would hence learn to be more friendly and to care for your family—as much as they care about you.

Freddy Krueger might pretend to be too cool to care at first, but he’d surprise you by keeping the nightmares at bay for your little ones. He’d even show them how to stand up for themselves, all while cracking jokes and making a game out of it. He’d never admit it, but being part of a family dynamic might soften him a little, especially when he sees how much he’s grown fond of the little monsters. 😆

Freddy *takes one of the kids and smiles* : "If you think you can just bat your eyes at me and pout and get me to do whatever the hell you want…you got another thing coming, kiddo."

All your kids start doing it and he pretends to get shot and fall.

"Aaaah ! Curse y’all for ganging up against me !"

Vincent Sinclair and Jason would be silently helpful, stepping in to create art for the kids or fix broken toys. They’d rarely speak, but their actions would show how much they’ve come to care for both you and your family. Both their gentle side would emerge more often when they’re with your younger children, especially if they showed interest in their work.

Michael Myers would be a constant presence, quietly observing and occasionally stepping in when needed. He might bond with one of the quieter kids, appreciating their silence and the way they understand each other without needing to talk. He’d be fiercely protective of your family, seeing you and the children as his own responsibility. He would also organise cooking or baking sessions for the kids—managing to make them all participate and teach them a thing or two—in case you do not have the time to cook for them.

And Brahms Heelshire—though not used to such a lively household—would probably hover around you, trying to be helpful while also seeking attention. He’d keep a close eye on everything, particularly the younger kids, and would often look to you for reassurance, wanting to be part of this new family.

Once approval give though ? He’d quickly share his many toys and board games with the kids—eager to make some new friends. He would also be happy if they invited him to play with them and end up missing them when they have to leave. He’s also be happy to receive hugs from the kids and beg you repeatedly to bring them back.

[innerfare]

Sanji Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Sanji angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Fusses over you while you see to your own wound, feels like they dodged a bullet, blames themselves for any harm that comes to you. “Never again,” they promise themself, bringing you a hot cup of tea to soothe you. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Slings his arm around you, gets a little too distracted by the sight of you brushing your teeth, ends up standing there with his mouth open and his toothbrush hanging out. Ends up speed running his when you’re finished so he can follow you out of the bathroom. 

Flowers: 

Classic red roses, at least a dozen at a time. He’ll buy you roses in shades of white and pink, as well as the occasional yellow, but a dozen red roses is his go to. He also makes very good use of the petals. Doesn’t need a special occasion to present you with a bouquet. In fact, he always makes sure you have fresh flowers on your nightstand. Additionally, he’s learned to cook a few dishes with edible flowers in them for you, presenting you with all manner of chamomile, chive blossom, and pansy dishes. 

Type of Date: 

This man will take you on the best picnic of your life, a picnic so good he’ll have you wondering why you ever thought restaurants were the epitome of fine dining. It won’t just be delicious, it will be an aesthetic dream, with a wicker basket, checkered blanket, and even a small bouquet of flowers in a glass jar. If he takes you on a picnic beneath the stars, he’ll light candles and be sure to have an extra blanket to keep you warm. Oh, and champagne. Definitely will open a bottle of champagne. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

Sparkling clean, and yet, he’ll apologize anyway because the pillows aren’t fluffy enough, the rug isn’t completely straight, etcetera. His closet is very well organized, all of his clothes ironed and properly taken care of (Sanji’s the rare type to actually read labels and do his laundry accordingly). His most prized possession is a book on the All Blue, which he’s poured over countless times, using color coded tabs to flag various pages and writing detailed notes in the margins. He also came across one of Zeff’s old wanted posters in Loguetown, and he keeps it framed next to his own, the closest thing he has to a family photo. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

He’s far too protective over you, and it causes a lot of fights. He treats you like a china doll, and though that can be quite nice at times, he needs to understand you’re not made of glass. Alternatively, he’s the type to get upset with you for being too friendly to other men. There was also a miscommunication where he cooked something you didn’t like and you weren’t exactly gentle in your reaction to it, you thinking he already knew you didn’t like that thing when he didn’t actually know, him thinking you had an issue with his cooking and not an issue with one of the ingredients. He’s the type to bring you flowers even if you were in the wrong in order to jumpstart the making up process. Your fights never last long because Sanji can’t sleep, can’t eat, can barely even pull himself out of bed if the two of you are on the outs (early childhood trauma can be that way). 

Paradise 1: 

Wandering through a flower field and picking some of the more beautiful blooms that catch your eye, sprawling out on a picnic blanket in the late morning to bask in the sweet scent, enjoying the breeze as it ruffles your hair, weaving some of the flowers you picked into a delicate crown that they wear proudly while the two of you share sweet kisses. 

Paradise 2: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

You’re in the clutches of his brothers while his father watches on in approval, and he’s trying to save you but to no avail. Suddenly, he’s seven years old again- too small, too slow, too weak to put up a fight, completely at the mercy of his brothers. Only, they aren’t tormenting him, they’re tormenting you, and from the looks on their faces, they sure are enjoying it. The look on your face, though, is one of complete anguish. And then you scream in pain, and he’s awake again, sitting up in bed with a sheen of sweat on his skin, the image of your face in such pain burned into his brain. He doesn’t register that it was only a nightmare until he puts eyes on you, and even then, it takes him several days to recover from the nightmare. 

I Love You: 

Sanji technically confesses first, but you’re the one who actually says those three words. He’s holding your hand in both of his, clutching it close to his racing heart, as he looks down at you, telling you all the ways you make his life better, all the things he’s looking forward to doing with you, all the energy he’s going to put into keeping you happy, healthy, and safe. And the words just sort of fall from your lips. He stops mid sentence, eyes wide and mouth open. The seconds drag on in silence before he’s pulling your lips to his. Both of you are very generous with these three words, saying them often and in public. If you ever hang up the transponder snail without telling him you love him, he’s calling you right back to make sure everything is alright. (Also, not really relevant, might do a separate post about this, but Sanji is definitely a heart-shaped jewelry sort of guy. He just is. Certified lover boy.) 

You’re Jealous: 

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[midnight-mourning]

Sharing Isn't Caring

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 13💘💘

Hello! Finally finishing these up, bit of a busy weekend and this one in particular got VERY long lol, that being said hope you enjoy!

Prompt: i really liked that one promptober you made about the reader having robophobia ( cause sun killed a few workers and has been avoiding him ever since, scary ass animatronic) is it possible to have a prompt where yn is doing better, has work besties. Aside from the constant threat of being brutally murdered by a friendly animatronic, theyre work life is chill. Its around valintines day where y/n has made friends with the cute new girl. Both have platonic feelings for each other while also being flirty (satire, gotta kiss the homies goodnight) with each other, kissing cheeks, hold hands, other friendly touches. However this does not go unnoticed by our favorite daycare attendants. They too try to be playfully flirty and touches yn any chance they get. However envy gets the better of them when they want to be yn's valentine...

Word Count: 3475

Content warning: non-graphic mentions of death, dying, violence, etc.

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

"Good morning!" A voice greets as you walk into the break room. 

You look up from your phone, small, tired smile on your features. "Ah, morning Jaz."

"You sleep alright?" She asks, taking a sip of her coffee. "You look exhausted."

You wince, a reminder of your nightmare last night coming forth. 

Running, running, running, tripping, falling. Claws sinking in, a scream ripped from your throat, cruel laughter ringing in your mind as it happens and being able to do nothing to stop it—

You shake your head. It was just a dream. They hadn't figured you out. At this point, you don't know if they ever would. Lucky, you'd been so, very lucky so far that they were solely focused on being your friend. Not a bit of suspicion in either of them as to what you knew. 

You hoped to god it'd stay that way, too.

Several months have passed, and you haven't beared witness to anything quite so terrifying since. Though, you'd made sure you wouldn't. You never let yourself get caught up in the evening hours, and you never let yourself be alone with either Sun or Moon. 

Save for the few times they'd managed to make such a scenario happen themselves, however.

Sun had meant it when he said he'd cure your 'robophobia'. They were sure trying their hardest, at least. 

Chatting with you every time you came to drop off a delivery or supplies, dragging you along to partake in some on days they were—suspiciously—lacking a helper. Sun particularly like to play hide and seek or house, whereas Moon wouldn't let you leave until you took a nap. 

Both made it their mission to be as up close and personal as they could too. Touches lingering just a tad too long, cornering you in one way or another, tones playful, cheeky. To an outsider it would seem like harmless fun, but to you, all it did was make you keep your guard up more. Which in turn, only made them try that much harder. 

It was a vicious cycle, but after the incident that occurred a little or a month ago, you could at least say—for now—that your chances of dying were significantly lower than you'd have thought otherwise. 

You'd forgotten your keys. Or maybe lost them, you still weren't entirely sure. You'd gone through every inch of the Plex where you'd been working that day, without a sign of them. There was only one place you hadn't checked, and it scared you to your core. 

You had debated whether to knock on the doors or not. Ultimately deciding that you'd rather take your chances slipping in and out unnoticed then actively invite the devil to your doorstep. Or you to the devil's, you realize there's little point to figuring it out much further. 

The speakers play the usual tune, the space is empty as can be as you peek inside. 

A quick glance around and you spy your keys on the desk. It takes everything in you to not make a beeline for them, instead walking calmly over and picking them up. You're about to turn back around when—

*Thump!*

Directly. Behind you. 

"Hello Sunshine! What brings you here so late? Did you stop by just to see little ol' me?" Again, that cheeky voice that perhaps only you can hear the sinister undertones of.

You suppress the scream and the shiver you want to let out. Instead, you turn around with a small, forced, smile. "H-hi Sun! I was just um, looking for my keys. And what do you know, they were in here all along!" You lift them up, making yourself laugh to keep your nerves in check. "I'll get out of your hair now."

"Silly, silly, I don't have any hair! And besides,"—a hand to your wrist, tone dropping just a tad—"You just got here. Would be a shame to leave so soon, hm?"

You start to falter. "I—"

"So come on then! You look ready to fall apart at the seams, and I can't have that happening to my favorite little assistant!" Sun shifts his grip to your hand, pulling you further along into the Daycare. "Don't you worry, I have just the thing to ease that tension."

He pulls you over a set of beanbags, he guides you to sit down in one, while he does in the other. Before you can blink, there's a coloring book and crayons in your lap. 

"Coloring is always soothing for the soul!" He states, finger pointing up in an affirming manner, then gets to work on his own book. 

There's only one thought in your head at that moment; you're going to die here. 

But, you're not quick enough to make a break for the door, so you have no choice but to accept your fate. Shaky hands gripping crayons in an attempt to distract yourself from your impending doom. 

As you go along, Sun pesters you constantly with conversation and questions. It confuses you, does he just like playing with his food or what? 

You answer best you can, but all the air leaves your lungs when he pops a question you were more than simply fearing. 

"—since we're such good friends, right?"

You freeze, and curse yourself for it, mouth feeling like glue as you tumble out a stuttered response. "Y-yeah. We're friends."

"Best friends?" Sun presses, leaning in close, you're waiting for him to take hold of you and slam your face into the mats just like—

"A-ah. Um, I don't know, I-I guess so? Sorry, I've um, not really had a best friend before..."

You were so screwed. 

Yet, Sun doesn't miss a beat, words a light as ever as he pouts. "Oh, well that won't do. I'll just have to keep trying until you feel completely confident in the notion that we are!"

And you were still standing the next morning. You don't know if it was a fluke, or what, but it certainly didn't seem that way. You'd take what you could get, though, and double, triple checked that you had all your belongings in their proper places from then on. 

Jaz clears her throat. Right. Back to the present. 

She'd been a nice change of pace over the last month or so. A fresh face to help you with things or pass in the hall. You were the same age, and related to each other a lot. It was… nice. To have someone to talk to, even if she couldn't know even the beginning of what you'd witnessed. 

But, you could tell her little things, insignificant, things that nobody could pick up on. 

"I had a nightmare, is all. I'll be alright." You sit down in the chair beside her, sighing. 

She tsks. "You seem to have a lot of those."

"It's not a willing participation, I assure you." You're rubbing your eyes when you spy a steaming mug being held in front of you. "Oh, you didn't have to do that."

A shrug. "Wanted to. Now drink up, I heard from Gary that we've got a lot of inventory to move today."

"Going to be a great morning then." You mutter into your cup as she snickers. 

Work had in general been a lot easier with the additional help, and just in general because of your new friend. She made you laugh, cheered you up on your rougher days, and was just in general a light in your life as of late. Not to mention, she'd inadvertently managed to help you overcome your fear of being touched you'd developed from witnessing the Attendants' actions. 

It was simple things, like touches to your shoulder and arm. Holding your hand and dancing around at the end of the work day, jokingly flirting and cheek kisses and the likes. No double meaning or the likes either, Jaz was just like that with everyone, you'd soon found. It eased you in a way you couldn't describe. You could relax around her and it felt like you'd gotten a bit of normalcy back into your day to day. 

Not to mention, through getting to know Jazz you'd gotten a bit more confidence in talking to others at work, and now had several coworkers you'd consider friends both in and outside of work. Things were… weird beyond that, but at least for the moment they were going alright. 

"So then I finally just told him, 'boy if you don't get your act together, she's going to leave you' and do you know what he said?" 

You snicker, adjusting the boxes in your arms. "What?"

"'But that's so much work'" She exaggerates the tone, with an extended groan and you let out a shocked laugh. "Like? Excuse me? You can't be serious right now."

You're still laughing hard as she pushes the roll cart through the Daycare doors. "That's insane. Does he just not care or is he stupid?"

"Between you and me,"—she leans in, voice low—"I think it's both. Fu-freakin' moron."

You giggle, about to give a quip in response when a loud voice interrupts.

"Good morning Starshine! Oh, and hello Jaz!" Sun stands just to your left, you don't know how you didn't hear him. "I didn't know you knew each other!"

Jaz lets go of the cart, arm wrapping around your shoulder. "Sure do! We're stuck being storage monkeys together. They've been a big help in showing me the ropes."

"As if you needed help, it's pretty straightforward." You set down the boxes in your arms finally. 

You glance over and see Jaz put her hand to her chest, feigning misery. "Oh, but if it weren't for you, i'd be completely and utterly lost! I don't know what I'd do without you, my best friend." She makes kissing noises at you as you laugh, gagging. 

"Knock it off." You swat at her lightly, then you look up to Sun. "If you just tell us where you want everything, we'll move it, Sun. Stop it!" You shove Jaz away as she pretends to try and kiss you cheek again. 

There's a snap then, drawing your attention to the attendant, you see the marker he'd been holding is broken in half, movements stiff as he glances down to look at it. 

"Oh. What a shame. Follow me, I'll show you exactly where to put everything." He turns, steps precise as he marches across the Daycare. 

While you pick up on the shift, Jaz doesn't seem to, simply taking hold of the cart again and following after him. You debate for a moment, and against your better judgement, swipe a wet wipe from the desk. The supply closet is tucked away in a hallway lacking light. So much so that it's Moon who finishes leading you. 

While Jaz starts to unload things in the closet, Moon waits at the doorway, attentive, unyielding in his gaze.

You clear your throat. "Um, need some help with that?"

His faceplate snaps to look at you and you swallow. It clicks to the side a few times as he examines you.

You nod to his hand, which you've no doubt is stained a deep purple by now. "I meant with the um, marker."

"Ah, thank you, Star." Moon snickers, opening his hand for you to wipe it off. 

You take his hand in both your own, wiping off where the marker has changed the color. It's a bit harder to do in this low light, but you manage. 

You don't expect Moon to speak up again. "Best friends?"

It takes a moment to click to you. "Ah. Yeah. We are."

Moon makes a noise then, grating, you can't make sense of it. So, you just ignore it and finish cleaning him up before going to help Jaz. Had you paid closer attention, you'd have noticed how tightly his hand grips the doorway, making it creak under the pressure. 

After that day, you notice that both Sun and Moon have somehow become more clingy. 

It wasn't just short conversations and little activities anymore. It was full blown discussions and non-stop things to do. Anytime you tried to protest that you were far too busy to spend so much time with them, they simply argued that nobody would say a thing. Which, they were right, your manager didn't seem to care in the slightest. 

Those touches from before were ramped up, in that there was more hand-holding, more hugs, more everything, that you'd let them get by with, that is. All of their previous efforts from before felt ramped up, and you had no idea as to why. Not to mention that they appeared to be more flirty as well.

And then came February. 

Right from the start of the month, something was different with them, you could tell instantly. And you soon found out what. 

When you came in to drop off supplies or such, there'd be little notes or doodles waiting for you. You'd find their comments going from less friendly to having a more flirtatious connotation. And all of it only got worse the closer you got to Valentine's Day. 

"Sunshine, come dance with me!" Sun would say, dragging you with him to spin through several songs. Hand on your hip and words soft as he gave you compliment after compliment.

Moon would do similar, asking you to sit with him and read the children stories at naptime, watching over your shoulder and softly singing your praises. Or even better, acting out the stories with you, especially enjoying the more romantic fairy tales in particular. 

And the thing was, much like their attempts at friendship, all this doting felt genuine. 

It confused you beyond belief, besides the fact that it concerned you deeply. You were already struggling enough with this 'friendship' you'd been cornered into with the murder robots, the fact that they were acting as if they were romantically interested was only making things worse. 

The morning of Valentine's you were a ball of nerves. You were hoping—praying, really—that they wouldn't try anything, though you knew the unlikelihood of that happening. At this point, your feelings were so confusing, twisted. You thought they'd approached you because they knew you knew what they'd done. And yet, countlessly time and time again you'd been—seemingly—proven wrong. 

"You alright over there, Sunshine?" 

You jolt at the nickname, sending a scowl Jaz's way. "Not cute."

"I think it suits you well." She snickers, checking her phone. "What's on the agenda for today, boss?"

You tsk. "Not your boss. And I have no idea, I haven't checked yet." You rub your face, pulling up your schedule, only to find it's blank. You sit up, muttering. "That can't be right..."

"Something wrong?"

You try refreshing the page, no luck. "Yeah, my schedule's empty. See if you can pull up yours."

After a moment, Jaz holds up her phone, her own schedule showing up without issue. 

You both share a confused look. 

"Dude, did you get fired?"

You feel flustered fear build up in you then. "Better not of. They have no reason to get rid of me."

It's then that you notice an email in your inbox. Clicking on it, you see it's from your manager, telling you to see him in his office about a 'change of location'.

"I don't remember you saying anything about wanting to transfer." Jaz comments as you stand up. 

You shake your head, grabbing your jacket. "I didn't."

On your way to your manager's office, passing by the Daycare, you hear a low whistle calling out to you. 

You turn, it's dark, the only light is glowing red eyes on the top of the wall. Knowing you don't have much a choice, you walk over. 

"Hi, Moon." You say, unsure. "How's um, naptime?"

He twists, hanging upside down from the wall. "Boring. No one to talk to."

"Well what about Jean—" You cut yourself off, words dying in your throat with realization. 

Moon doesn't catch it, instead snickering to himself. "Sick."

Something in your gut tells you that's not in the slightest bit the truth. 

"Ah. Gotcha. Well, I should get going now." You wave and turn around. "See you later."

*Thump!*

A hand resting on your shoulder, and the sudden up close and personal presence behind you startles you, to say the least. 

"Wait. Have something for you."

You swallow the urge to run away. "Oh?"

"Mmhmm." Moon hums, right beside your ear. "Close your eyes."

You do, it's not as if there's a scenario where you don't. 

A pause. You're half-expecting something terrible, be it something grotesque or even something as cruel as your own end—

"Open."

Flowers. It's flowers. 

Origami flowers, at that. You're impressed by the intricacy of the folding, they're delicate, precise. Something that would have taken even the most skilled of individuals genuine time and care to make. 

And you're being presented a massive bouquet of them.

"Wow..." You trail off, consumed with genuine awe. "I, for me?"

Moon snickers, faceplate spinning once. "Happy Valentine's, Little Star."

Right, Valentine's. You'd entirely forgotten for a moment. 

While you're in your daze, Moon plucks a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear. He then sets the bouquet into your arms with a gentle pat, then hops back up on the ledge. 

"See you later~" Another giggle, and he's gone, leaving you dumbfounded. 

Your boss hardly glances up at you when you step into his office. "Ah, finally. Sit down, let's make this quick."

You sit down, still not quite thinking clearly as a stack of papers is tossed in front of you. 

"Sign these, and then I'll switch you over to the Daycare in the system. Their liability and the likes since you're working one-on-one with the Attendant. Fionna will be in charge of you from now on, paychecks, etc. Think she lets the robot pick the schedules, for whatever reason. Any questions?" He finally looks at you then, raising a brow. "Quite the bouquet you got there. Do I need to get you a relationship form from HR too?"

You shake your head. "I, no. No, not at all. I, why am I being transferred?"

"Well, you asked." Your manager states plainly, then shrugs. "And you got a couple good recommendations so I figured 'eh, whatever'. You can start today once you're done here. Or take the day off, I don't care, not my problem."

You just sit there a moment, taking it all in. 

'You asked.'

You, asked.

You know a sign when you see it. And you know when an alarm bell is blaring in your head, it's best not to ignore it. 

But when you've got a gun to the back of your head, that's much harder to ignore. 

You pick up the pen, and sign. 

Your steps are heavy as you walk back to the Daycare. Jaz has texted you a couple times, your like a zombie as you type by brief responses. You don't know what to think. Should you be relieved, or counting your days? 

They wouldn't have put in this much effort if they weren't genuine. Surely they weren't running this long of a con. But then that meant they were genuine. The killer robots were infatuated with you. 

You don't know which is worse, you don't know which is worse, you don't know which is worse—

"Hello Sunbeam! I'm so happy to see you!" 

You look up, Sun stands before you, rays spinning gleefully. You didn't even realize you'd walked into the Daycare. 

He claps his hands. "Oh! We're going to have so much fun, fun, fun! We get to spend all day long together! Just you and me! And well, the children too. But still, isn't it great?"

"I, um sure. I guess so." You mumble out. 

The slight twitch to his rays doesn't go unnoticed by you. The slightest of shifts in his tone as he glares down at you.

"Come now, friend. Aren't you excited? After all,"—He suddenly bends to your height, leaving you face-to-face and inches apart—"Aren't we best. friends?"

You struggle to maintain eye contact, focusing slipping to the bundle in your arms as you try to think up a way to respond. 

A low chuckle interrupts your racing thoughts. "Ah, but maybe that's not enough for you either?"

"I, um." It is a miracle you've lasted this long with how you're fumbling over your words.

Sun's hands cup your cheeks, tone still a hum. "Love, all you had to do was say so. In fact, we wish you'd done so sooner." His smile presses to your forehead. "Not to worry, we're more than happy to make up for lost time."

You can only stare up at him with smothered horror as his thumb strokes your cheek.

"And now, there's nothing that's going to get in the way of that."

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you @pip-plz for the request!! As you can see I had a lot of fun brining these two back lol

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

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[yandere-sins]

Pssstt I have memes

The rest of TF141 when their lieutenant is flirting with a mercenary (KorTac Operator darling):

Ghost having TF141 asking him about his business with a KorTac operator:

König when his WORST NIGHTMARE (his precious platonic darling attracting another soldier) comes true:

You guys would be surprised how much I actually think about how TF141 would react to the whole yandere/darling situation of one or more of their members. Because enviroment is important for story building, and—at least for Ghost—I do think a lot of the situations happens around a military base/camp, so there never is full privacy even behind closed doors.

[Warning for Sexual Content, Drug Mention, Stalking Mention, Abuse of Authority]

If Price is the yandere, I think he mostly has the "superior" advantage, as in, he can just keep his darling around for the sake of having taken them "under his wing." He's done it before, and the others have probably experienced it themselves that Price just cares for his underlings. Even if not, there's nothing wrong with someone more experienced teaching the newer recruits, right? 

There's nothing wrong with him having the darling tail him, giving them orders, checking on them. Sure, it's kind of weird when their revision of plans takes until late at night in Price's room, but eh. That's how it is on the job, right? And Price is just being nice and joking around as he does with everyone. Even if the jokes are somewhat inappropriate, at least everyone is getting along! Nobody has to know the dirty mess he makes of you all night long, the hand beneath his glove bloody from your bites as he hides the screaming and moaning of his name with it. And you learn quickly to sit still while having dinner, no matter where the very same hand goes underneath the table. You don't want to be punished again.

If Ghost is the yandere, it's a bit more complicated—and at the same time, easier. It's less of an authority powerplay and more of a difference of strength between his darling and him. You can report him—honestly, Ghost is kind of into that (good reason to punish you later, hehe). But Price wouldn't do more to one of his star soldiers than a verbal slap on the wrist. Ghost cares so little about others' opinions that it makes him look innocent. You might struggle against him, and the others will call him out if he plays too rough with you at the table. Still, he does what he wants anyway, making it seem like a joke when he pulls you on his lap, only to let you jump off it again right away. He knows he won the struggle; you know he won the struggle. What do the others think? Just a tease between colleagues!

Even when you two get outed for your "relationship", the others are more likely to turn a blind eye. Hell, they might even gratulate and whistle. You might hate getting caught by the team in the shower with Ghost because he wouldn't let you do it alone, but it gets normalized so quickly that people are more confused when you slip away and do your own thing instead of being with Ghost. Honestly, his friends are happy for the big guy! You simply lost the popularity contest with Ghost. 

If Soap is the yandere, that's when things get interesting. Soap is slippery. He does his fair share of stalking, messing up your things, and imagining what it would be like if he could be with his darling officially. Even with his heart doing way too many beats when he's close to you, he tries to play it cool. He's charismatic enough to befriend you, and no one knows where your underwear really disappeared to. So, although everyone notices Soap being a bit... happier whenever you show up, they just shrug it off. Lad got a crush, they think.

And he does, and for the longest time, not even you know it. He makes sure you don't know it, slipping into your bed in the darkest hours of the night, kissing your neck and shoulder while he hopes you dream of him. Leaving your side reluctantly, but never too late so no one will notice him coming from your room. He crossed paths with Ghost once, but both were in a drowsy state, and Ghost didn't notice that it wasn't Soap's room that his friend just left. They only start getting suspicious when you mysteriously feel too sick for your training, and yet, they let Soap take care of you. Without any suspicions, they let him make you soup and visit your room freely, the crushed sleeping pills in his trouser's back pockets waiting to be used. 

[nightlyrequiem]

Hello, so I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader and Valeria are in an on again off again relationship. They obviously love each other very much but the circumstances of Valeria's life and occupation just make it hard to have a stable relationship but they both do try to make it work though.

I absolutely can!

I like messy relationships. Complicated relationships. Gives me angst and fluff (Depending on the situation.)

Realistically, I think this would be how being in a relationship with Valeria would be like. On and off again and so much fighting. It's okay though bc it's Valeria

Tags/Warnings: Light Angst, Mildly Happy Ending, Complicated Relationship, Making Compromises

Complications

Valeria is a hurricane and the calm that comes after it. A candle and it's flame. The flame will melt the candle down to nothing and burn itself out of existence. You slam the door to your apartment shut. Furious and certain that this is the last time. You swear it. You can't stand Valeria. So bullheaded. She takes any kind of criticism as a personal attack. You wipe your eyes and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it. She insists on putting herself in danger every day and can't seem to understand why you seem to have an issue with that.

She doesn't know that you're plagued with nightmares about her dying. Always just out of reach, cold and alone. Screams you've never heard echoing in your ears after you jolt awake. She doesn't hear you as you get up and move to the bathroom to cry without disturbing her. It's a never-ending fight. One you've had before, and it always ends the same way. You're not sure why you even bother trying to talk to her about it. You can't even bring up wanting her to be safer without her blowing up at you.

Not only are you always worried about her, but you're also always lonely. Whatever it is she does at work keeps her there for most of the night every night. You eat most meals alone and you go to bed alone in the too-big bed. You're tired of being worried about someone who seems to not hold any grievances towards putting themselves in danger. The fact that you kept your apartment in case of you two breaking up again should be a sign, a blaring, bright red one, that things just aren't going to work out between the two of you.

As you lay awake in your own bed that night, you're overcome by guilt for leaving. You know Valeria isn't putting herself in danger and avoiding you because she wants to. It's apart of her job. Many times she did manage to make it home before you went to bed she collapsed in your arms. Silent but heavy. The stress of her life clearly taking a toll on her. Those nights you stayed up with her, soothing her with whispered words and physical touch.

You wonder how often she needs those things during the periods of time where you are broken up. Does she run herself a hot bath and pretend the warmth is from you or does she go straight to bed with a heavy heart? You're not privy to that information. Valeria has never told you what she does and you feel weird asking. You turn over with a sigh. Is Valeria also struggling to fall asleep? Your thoughts are on Valeria when you finally drift away early into the morning.

Valeria can't focus on what Diego is saying. She can't bring herself to care about what he's saying. 

"-Shipment to Colombia, there's a team waiting." He says.

"Hm." Valeria acknowledges with little enthusiasm.

"And the shipment to Brazil went over smoothly-"

"So why are you telling me about it?" Valeria asks, voice deceptively calm. Though anyone paying attention would be able to see the agitation rolling off of her in waves.

Diego stops talking. Having spent enough time around her to sniff out when things are getting dangerous. If he keeps speaking, he'll enter Valeria's 'red zone.' Such a volatile and violent woman. Valeria narrows her eyes and slowly encroaches on him.

"If something is going over the way it needs to-" She grits out. "then I don't need you to fucking tell me."

Diego backs up and nods. He doesn't say anything, but he knows something happened between the two of you. Valeria has always been a private person but having worked so closely with her for years he's managed to gleam a small amount of trust from her. Enough to have learned about you.

Whenever the two of you separated, work became a lot less pleasant. And considering Valeria has been on the war path for weeks, Diego thinks it's safe to assume that you two have called it quits again. Something, for whatever reason stops him in the doorway. He turns and hesitates. Working so closely with her also had the side effect of him caring, just a little bit.

"Is everything alright?" He asks, knowing that prying is likely to just piss her off even more.

Valeria stiffens and glowers at him. "I'm great."

She's like a dog showing the first signs that it's going to bite. Raised fur and bared teeth.

"... They'll come back." He says stiffly. "Partners leave but they come back."

Valeria looks like she's about to lunge at him for a few seconds. She sighs and her shoulders slump. Raising a hand to rub at her face she replies.

"I don't think they will." She mutters before she straightens and scowls. "It's none of your concern anyway. Go do something useful and leave me alone."

Diego leaves and in a flash of anger, Valeria grabs the nearest object and hurls it at the wall. The result isn't very satisfying as it was a simple little lighter. She stays late. Later than usual and later than she needs to. She has always considered herself to be solitary and independent, but she's grown used to having someone around. Valeria used to love having the house to herself but now it's just lonely. 

Avoiding it will only work for so long though. Valeria has to go home eventually. She pushes open the door and steps inside, greeted by silence. It's incredibly late. 4:56AM. You should be standing in the hall with a hand on your hip, ready to argue with her over it. She hated that. The arguing. It's the last thing Valeria wanted to do after a long, awful day but you could never let things go. Now she'd gladly listen to you yell and chastise her if it meant she could hear your voice again.

It's only because you care. Valeria knows that. You aren't trying to control her you just love her and worry about her. And, like she always does, she's driven you away. Chose the Cartel over you, like she's done many times before. She doesn't want to do that. Doesn't want to lose you. She has a choice to make, and she decides to make it.

Knuckles rap against your door loudly. Disturbing your peace. You set down the shirt you were folding and get up, going up to the old door and peering out the peephole. Not that surprised to see Valeria standing there stiffly. It's all a part of the cycle, after all. You're tempted to not open the door, pretend you aren't home and let her walk away without ever speaking to her. You know her better than that though. She'll sit outside your door, waiting.

You quickly adjust yourself and open the door. Determined that things won't repeat themselves again. 

"Hey." Valeria says, face immediately softening and you hate it.

"Hey." You mutter. Silence settles between the two of you like a spectator. Her eyes dart over your face. "Can I come in?"

You think about it. Tempted to say no, but she's wearing a shirt that shows off her toned arms and tattoos, and she's a little sweaty from the heatwave. And despite your better judgement, you're thinking with your heart, not your head. "Sure." You relent, turning and giving her room to walk in.

She looks around your space. Then at you.

"I miss you." Valeria admits. You're impressed, it usually takes a small argument before she says that.

"... Okay." You respond. You miss her too, but you don't think she deserves to hear those words. You also don't want to utter them for fear that it will be the catalyst for you going back to her again. As if you haven't already pushed forth the first domino by letting her inside your home.

A frown graces her features.

"We can't keep doing this." She says. Looking at you closely.

You wrap your arms around yourself. "I know." You murmur. Suddenly afraid that maybe this really is the last time. You're not as ready to let her go as you thought you were.

"I'll..." She trails off and frowns. Looking as uncomfortable as you've ever seen her. "I'll be better." She promises. Reaching out and unfolding your arms, holding your hands in hers.

Your frown deepens as your hit with longing.

"You said that last time." You murmur softly.

Valeria closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours. Breathing in your air. "I know, but I mean it this time." She whispers. "I'll come home at an agreed time and take breaks to text you. I'll make more time for you."

"You'll be safer?" You ask.

Valeria takes a moment to respond. "I can't promise that, amor."

"Valeria-"

"I can't." She interrupts. Leaning back to look at you.

You look upon the face of the woman you love. Not your other half but your other whole. You've imagined that face looking up at you from a coffin. Her dying is a real possibility. She's your other whole but when she dies she'll take half of you with her. Leaving you incomplete for the rest of your lonely existence.

"Why do you want to put me through that?" You ask angrily. "Why would you risk yourself when you know what it will do to me? Why?"

Your voice rises and Valeria pulls you into her chest. protecting you with her warmth. "Because as much as I'm your person I'm also my own person." She whispers into your hair.

You close your eyes, saltine tears squeezing themselves out from beneath your eyelids.

"This is my job. My livelihood." She continues gently. "I know the risks, I've had to claw my way up from the bottom to get to where I am, and I like being where I am. I like what I do."

You exhale. "I know."

"It's not fair to ask me to give that up."

"I know."

You pull away and wipe your eyes. Valeria grabs your hands gently and lowers them.

"I'll do things differently, but I won't give up what I've worked so hard for." Valeria says. Wiping your eyes for you.

"Okay." You relent. Deciding that it's good enough for you if it means you get to keep her in your life for just a little while longer. She kisses your forehead.

"Have more faith in me." She says. "It's going to take a lot to kill me."

You avert your gaze. People always think they're immortal until death catches up to them. "Let's go home."

[drluvsick]

ROOM B — HASHIRAS

doctor’s notes: popular & common! all of them have different feelz, hope at least one of them appeals to you! such sweethearts… <3

𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

—𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

a person who’s lost those close to him and a person with trust issues— two close friends put on a mission together where a nightmare draws your relationship closer.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐎𝐈𝐙𝐘𝐒

you get injured and giyu blames himself, although, it’s not really his fault, is it?

—𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘

giyu and water lilies have much in common; ft. self conscious giyu!

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

muichiro convinces you to eat. quick drabble. mention of reader starving themselves.

—𝟑𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒

you and muichiro chat at 3am, leading to him making sure you know that you deserve him.

—𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒

i saw this bell while on vacation and wrote this on my way back!

—𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 (𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊)

muichiro loved your long hair. he loved the trust you gave him as you only allowed him to touch it. so imagine his surprise when you come back to him with a totally new haircut and some new insecurities.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐘𝐎𝐔.

you’ve always been afraid of rejection, and that feeling is just multiplied when you like muichiro. cold, harsh— but what about after he regains his memories and he’s more out there with his emotions?

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

shinobu’s always been dedicated; in her work, job, and taking care of others. but overworking yourself can always backfire, especially if you don’t take a break to take care of yourself. luckily, shinobu has you.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑

you miss shinobu.

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄?

sanemi wants to impress you, so he turns to his cooking skills.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐃𝐀

headcannons of tengen & sanemi with a s/o who loves physical touch and pda.

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐍!

rengoku’s tall. you’re short(er). in the end, you want to be the big spoon for once.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.

—𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

you hand make them a replica of themselves in the form of a plushie!

—𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐃𝐀

headcannons of tengen & sanemi with a s/o who loves physical touch and pda.

—𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

tengen comforts you after a bad day.

—𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o.