#redacted hurt comfort

[broccolibaabe]

I'm doing a thing

Idfk how to do normal polls so heres a doc:

THE ANSWERS MATTER ALOT SO CHOOSE WISELY

[brainrotcharacters]

MY UTERUS MADE ME DO IT

Redacted characters x fem!bodied Listeners: period cramps edition

Porter offers oral. Treasure takes it as a genuine threat.

Darlin who goes into denial at the first sign of tears and Sam the tissue dispenser boyfriend.

Vincent who takes the stained sheets to the washer only after Lovely is settled in the bathtub. Female bodied vampires get it once every three months and are worse for it.

Angel goes quiet. David cuddles it out of them.

Aggro got off of Sweetheart's lap calmly one time. Sweetheart looked so heartbroken and then annoyed that they're so sensitive. Milo shifted on sight and they cuddled on the floor.

Babe snapped at Asher one time and then immediately apologized. Asher sniffed at the air and smelled it. The next eight hours were spent with Asher fussing over them.

Guy has never moved as fast as he did when he turned the AC on and put out the weighted blanket and shimmied beside Honey like a slug. That Honey happened to be dating. He peeked out of the blanket at them and giggled "your prescribed cuddles have arrived! I'm not a licensed doctor, but we'll make it work"

[bubblergoespop]

“it almost feels like i miss you? or like i had been missing you?”

“i didn’t really wanna spend the night alone in my head if that’s okay?”

“i never wanna have to miss you again.”

BRACHIUM I’LL NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU TOOK FROM US

[llondonfog]

i hope you're doing well, my dear lettie <3 for the six sentence prompt ask game, might i request silver getting sick at school and lilia dutifully cuts class to take care of him? 🥹

"Oh— oh, watch yourself, love—"

The hand on his arm is sure and steady, and it is the only thing that keeps Silver's knees from buckling away beneath him as if he were wobbling around with transfigured sea legs, jellified and weak.

It's a familiar touch, one that he would know even in the deepest of slumbers. He doesn't need to lift his heavy eyes to know who has seemingly materialized out of thin air to support him, and because Silver is, still among all things, a child, it takes no effort at all to slump his head to the side and rest his forehead against the waiting curve of his father's shoulder.

" . . . now, what am I to do with you?"

Silver was sick.

And not the average, runny-nose and scratchy cough kind, but the roiling shower steam nausea, feverish kind— the kind that felt as if little craft fairies with lead hammers had taken up residence in the hollows of his bones and the aching sinus pockets behind his eyes, and were banging incessantly on his raw nerves with vicious, unmitigated glee.

Morning classes had been an absolute misery of sensory havoc, his mind distracted and his glazed eyes slipping shut with even more forceful vengeance than usual. His pen had scrawled aimless lines across the blank notebook pages, and even Trein had spared him a pitying glance, not that Silver had realized it, for his flushed cheeks and obvious disorientation.

(Neither had he noticed Kalim's repeated concerned glances, nor the way that his friend kept tapping on his cell phone with a worried twist to his perpetually upturned lips.)

It was little wonder then that as the students streamed in eager droves out of their lecture halls for lunch, Silver chose instead to attempt a shuffling escape towards the Mirror Hall, towards Diasomnia and the promise of a timed catnap in the gloomy embrace of its dark, cool corridors before the rigor of his afternoon classes could begin.

He'd been rather foolish to believe he'd make it there unaided with how the stone floor beneath him started to wink closer, the sinking realization tugging at his stomach that he was beginning to plummet down to meet it without resistance, until a presence unannounced had swooped in by his side.

So focused now on attempting to wrangle his breakfast into submission before it inevitably made a second, less pleasant appearance upon his father's uniform, he hardly notices until too late that the ground has disappeared under his very feet with a swiftness that spares him the nauseous threat. Bleary eyes blink past the invisible weight pressing insistent fingers against them, and Silver manages to find a glimmer of incredulity among all of his slippery, pounding thoughts as he stares up at the fae cradling him in his arms as if he were all of five again— and smiling as pleased as punch, in the middle of the grand hallway no less.

". . . Father— !" he doesn't even think to correct himself as he croaks out the beloved title, utterly at a loss as to what the fae could possibly be thinking. "Father, please, put me down! Someone might see—"

"And see what?" His father's eyes sparkle down at him with mischievous delight, but it is not enough to mask the darker currents of worry that linger there, stealing the rest of the sputtering arguments from Silver's mind. "That I'm caring for my adorable junior classmate as a good vice housewarden should?"

His mouth opens and closes more uselessly than a fish as he stares without a rebuttal at the self-satisfied fae, unable to come up with a worthwhile protest in the sluggish cogs of his mind.

The rambunctious cacophony of their fellow classmates echoes from further down the hall, and Lilia's smile creases into something tender and private, an expression reserved for Silver and Silver alone as those clawed fingertips drift soothingly through his sweaty bangs. There's no magic that glitters from his touch, and yet Silver's eyes find themselves drooping instantly just the same, his head tucking forward to rest against his father's chest where that heartbeat reverberates like a lullaby in his ears.

"Come on, dear— let's get you back to bed."

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Bad Blood (literally)

Sam/Masc Darlin

Fluffy sick Fic

No proofread

Darlin’s POV

“come on Sam. pick up” i dialed the number again only to be met with the same voicemail I’ve heard 1 million times today 

“you’ve reached Sam Collins if it’s important enough, you’ll leave a message”

Sam hadn’t answeredmy calls at all today, not even any texts. Which was abnormal usually I’m the one to mentally respond, but not actually message back.

Was he napping? no. Sam usually texts before he lays down for a nap 

Maybe he was listening to music and it was too loud for him to hear his phone….No. Sam has sensitive ears, And likes to be hyper aware of his surroundings. usually the music is just loud enough to hear.

Maybe I’m just being obsessive and spiraling over nothing, maybe I’m just being a paranoid little shit like Chrissy is always saying…

or maybe my paranoia is warranted.

I make my way to David’s office

*KNOCK-KNOCK* “come in” I quickly open David’s door closing it a little too loud behind me 

“oh, I thought you were Asher” “so sorry to disappoint. Can I go home early?” He cocked his head like a confused dog (yea. I know) “…..can I ask why” “I think something might be wrong with Sam. he hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls….and I’m getting worried” “alright you can leave. I’ll get Milo to cover for you on the Walton job” “holy fuck, thanks David” I turned to leave.

“hey…Next time something like this happens just leave….you can fill me in later” I whisper a quick thank you. Before bolting out the door. 

Nobody’s POV—————————————————

Darlin jolted through traffic in ways that should’ve earned them many tickets. But that didn’t matter all that was going through their head was. possible scenarios of what they were gonna walk into. most of them less than pleasant. 

Have they checked in with Quinn’s containment facility? Could Alexis’s invoke have worn off? Can invokes wear off? why does their driveway feel so much longer than it usually does. 

Darlin pulled up next to Sam’s truckand threw open the door, not even bothering to turn their car off. Fumbling with their keys all the way up to the front door. Darlin unlocked it and ran inside.

“SAM! IM HOME!” They waited for a few seconds then they heard a groan. Coming from down the hall. they start walking down the hall, making sure to listen closely. the groan is coming from the end of the hall. It’s coming from.…..the bathroom??

Darlin presses their ear up against the door. inside they can hear labored breathing 

“Sam?” They softly spoke. Admittedly, a little scared. a few seconds past before they heard a weak “Darlin?” it was quiet, it was weak but it was there. and it was Sam. and he sounded in pain? They think that’s what that is. “Sammy…i’m gonna open the door is that OK?” They can hear Sam grunt in agreement. they slowly opened the door. and they see Sam. On the floor. hunched over the toilet. They thought he was pale before.  but you might as well call him a friendly ghost because he’s white as Casper.

“oh, baby…what happened?” “B-bad blood bag..*Gulp*” “like expired? or just bad blood?” “bad blo-*Cough!* I tried to-get to my phone but I-” Sam quickly leans closer to the toilet. Darlin places a soft hand on his back. using the other to hold his hair back. “oh shit. Ok. I got ya i got ya..” once Sam was finished hacking up a lung. He leans back against the bathroom wall. 

“feel any better?” “still nauseous, but not nearly as bad as before” “how long have you been in here?” “…since around three hours after you left-And i know what your gonna say-” “SAM I left at 5 AM! And I don’t know if you’ve checked the clocks but it’s 3 PM” Sam was quiet his cheeks were flushed from being sick and his eyes started to fill up “…Sam..have you been throwing up all the time?” “…I couldn’t s s-” Darlin places a hand on his cheek. Caressing his face with their thumb. “oh Sammy” they wrap their arms around him and hold him close. Sam takes a deep breath and leans into the embrace. 

After a minute, Darlin hooks their arm under Sam’s legs. The other supporting his back.  standing up and lifting him off the ground. Almost out of reflex, Sam wraps his arms around their neck. “Darlin! Put me down!” “nope, not happening. Sorry a Babe, but it’s my turn to play the big strong man in the relationship” Darlin walks them to the bedroom and lays him down.

“No. I can’t lay in the bed I’m gross” “and you laid in the bed and cuddled me when I had the flu. I don’t see your point. Can I take your shirt and pants off?” “yeah. Wait hold on. why?” “you’ve been in these clothes all day they’re probably sweaty and icky” Darlin removes his flannel and jeans, taking off his shoes and socks.

Sam’s skin was warm. But not the cozy warm that Darlin look forward to when they came home every day. This was like fever warm…but vampire edition, 

“I’ll be right back. stay here” “well I don’t think I have the strength to go anywhere else”

Around 15 minutes later, Darlin comes in the room with a Home Depot 5 gallon bucket. They sit on the floor on Sams side of the bed.

“I’ve got Vernors courtesy of Ashers sister, saltines and vapor rub, three ice cold water bottles, and the main event..” they drop the 5 gallon bucket next to the nightstand in front of him “puke bucket. I Also threw away the blood bags that were left in the fridge and told Vincent to pick up some fresh ones at the bank by his house” Darlin sits down next to him and opens one of the water bottles “Drink” Sam grabs a water bottle and chugs it. not realizing how thirsty he was until now. Once he finishes, he tosses the water bottle into the bucket. 

“thank you darlin” “there’s that voice” they lean forward and give him a kiss on the forehead  “aw. Is my big bad wolf being soft?” “Only for you cowboy”

The next few hours were spent making sure Sam could function again. Darlin’ had reheated some of the chicken soup that Marie had given them. And made him eat a few bowls of it. not that he was complaining. he had drank almost every of the water bottle they had in the house. made quick work of the crackers and Vernors. and was now simply resting. laying on his side while his Darlin rubbed his shoulders. Feeling his now normal Sam temperature skin 

“this is gonna sound bad, but I’m kind of happy that you were sick” “you’re right. That does sound bad” “what I mean is….when you weren’t returning my calls or texts I…I got really anxious and started thinking..” “started thinkin’ the worst?” “yeah..and of course, now I know that it wasn’t your fault that you weren’t answering I just got really worried” “well your worry was warranted you saw me. I was a mess…A mess that was then rescued by his favorite night in shining torn jacket” “Ha! Look, who’s being sappy now!” “must be the medication got me all up in the clouds like them migraine meds David takes”

Sam stretches out his shoulders and lets out a yawn.

“you should probably get ready for sleep. You must be exhausted” “you’re probably right” Sam turns over clicks the lamp off. And closes his eyes to sleep. 

“what are you doing?” “getting ready to sleep” “all the way over there?” “I didn’t think. You would want to cuddle with me” “well you’re right about one thing” Darlin pulls Sam closer by his hips forcibly little spooning him “you didn’t think” they nuzzled their face into his neck and wrapped their arms around his torso 

“…..I love you Darlin. your the best thing I’ve got” “your worth trying to be the best for”

————————————————————————-

This might be shit. OH WELL

@frog-0n-a-l0g Luv u Boo. this for you

[joshusten]

love me in spite (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy and Honey get into an argument early into their relationship.

(angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, fluff)

3k+ words [ao3 link here!] [masterlist]

[CW and notes: swearing, arguing, insecurities, overthinking, breakdowns, descriptive?? crying?? I think??, idk they’re both having a bad time. probably a lot of grammatical errors lmao. also honey is implied to be empowered!!]

Honey doesn't remember the last time they felt like this, but they’ve always known their personality would bite them in the ass someday.

“Aww, is my beloved mad again? Oh, pray tell, which heinous crime did I commit this time, officer? Robbery? Public indecency?” Guy stroked his chin, pretending to rack up his mind on any possible offense he could have made. “Hm…jaywalking?"

“Guy.”

“Oh! Or maybe—just maybe—it was wanting my ever-so-affectionate lover to stop their pretty head from fussing over me?”

"Guy, can’t you take this seriously for once?” 

“But I am! It’s just not that big of a deal, baby! Look, a manuscript can’t just write itself, y’know? Especially one with a little flair from yours truly!”

“You haven’t slept properly for days now, you work overnight most of the time, and on your days off you pull all-nighters writing!” 

“Oh, you’re one to talk!”

“Well, this one’s more serious! I haven’t even seen you eat a proper meal and anything I offer you gets left out cold!”

They continued to have a back-and-forth confrontation, voices raising and words getting crueler as time goes on, with both parties not intending to back down anytime soon. Honey thought it was the first time they ever heard Guy let out an actual annoyed scoff and they noticed the slightest change in his demeanor. 

“Jesus, Honey. Of all the times you can finally act like you care for me, why now? Hm?” There was a playful smile on his face. It almost made them believe he was still joking around but his words were laced with an unmistakable annoyance.

But something inside Honey snapped. Their chest tightened at the thought of their partner thinking they didn’t care. They felt themselves flinch from the comment and Guy seemed to notice that too as his smile drops. “Shit. Honey, I didn’t–”

“I’m–,” They scrambled to get their bag, keys, wallet, anything they would need because they just want to be anywhere but here.“I’m going out. Let’s finish this later. I-I just can’t fucking do this right now.”

They didn’t mean that. Didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. Then again, they don’t mean to sound so harsh most of the time but end up doing so either way. Grumpy. Mean. Intimidating. A common descriptor from most people. But Guy wasn’t like most people. ‘Unless,’ they think, ‘That was just a lie you told yourself to believe in.’

Honey shuts the door behind them, leaving the building and the warmth of their partner.

The pain in their chest almost distracts them from the exhaustion currently catching up to their body after a long day. They can feel the telltale signs of a migraine coming as they rub their temples gingerly with one hand, the other guiding the steering wheel. ‘Damn, it started to rain too. What a great way to lighten the mood,’ they think bitterly. Their mind eventually goes back to the fight earlier.

“Of all the times you finally can act like you care for me, why now? Hm?”

They do care. They care for him so much it scares them . He knows that, right? Even if they groan at his flirtatious quips and innuendos or if they grumble at his (very creative) attempts to give them as many hugs and kisses as they would allow, he knows that that’s just how they are, right? 

Maybe that wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe that never was enough to begin with. Maybe Guy finally realized he deserves better than an ill-tempered partner who doesn’t even know how to properly show any affection to their own fucking boyfriend.

A sharp car horn snaps them out of their thoughts. Shit, it’s a green light. They continue to drive until they see the familiar soft glow of a nearby 7-Eleven sign despite the persistent rain. 

Honey's entrance was signaled with the chime of the bell above the glass door. It’s relatively empty save for what they recognize to be a few D.A.M.N. students buying some late-night study snacks. Walking through the aisles while the pop song they heard their partner hum before softly plays in the background, slowly but surely calming them down. Muscle memory makes Honey reach for Guy’s favorite snack and they wonder how he’s doing. 

---

Guy doesn't remember the last time he felt like this, but he’s always known his personality would bite him in the ass someday.

Sure, he and Honey had their disagreements, but they were all accompanied by playful slaps and teasing laughter. Never had it gotten to the point of an actual argument that caused them to spit such venom toward each other like the one they just had. 

“I’m going out. I-I just can’t fucking do this right now.”

The door closes and Honey leaves, bringing the warmth of their shared apartment with them. Guy lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and starts to get to work. He wordlessly distracts himself by cleaning the living room—picking up stray plastic chip bags, vacuuming crumbs that settled on the cheap shag carpet, and fixing up the pillows on the couch that he’s been nesting on for the past few days while he works on the final draft of the project he was writing. 

Piles of paper littered their second-hand coffee table. Every inch is covered in Post-it notes and wrinkled pieces of paper filled with ideas that he had haphazardly scribbled in an attempt to record them before it leaves his mind. Most of them, he recalls, are just random doodles of spirals and honeybees that he absentmindedly drew as he was typing away on his laptop. The spaces left exposed on the table were adorned with faded mug rings on the old dark oak wood.

He tries to compile them into a neater collection, pausing as he notices a doodle he made of his Honey. It was far from a masterpiece, but the cute cartoony style paired with heavily exaggerated furrowed brows in order to replicate their partner’s usual expression pulls a smile from his lips. There was even a jumbled-up line inside a small text bubble next to it to symbolize the adorable grumbles they always make. 

Fuck, he misses them so fucking much.

A sudden wave of exhaustion almost makes him drop the stack of papers he’s holding and it dawns on him how much he really has been neglecting his own health for this project. The stress of trying to find a job where he can utilize his degree and finally get out of that godforsaken pizza place has been taking a toll on him. All Honey was trying to do was for him to take a break that he so desperately ( and, he embarrassingly admits, unknowingly ) needed. And he just treated it like some silly joke. Granted, it really was because he wasn’t used to being coddled after, but, it definitely wasn’t an excuse to dismiss their worries like that. 

The guilt builds up in Guy’s throat like bile. He feels worse now, especially considering how much they struggle with expressing themselves like that to him in general, even if they don’t say it aloud.

He finishes cleaning up but the restlessness doesn’t leave him as time passes by with no word from his partner. Maybe this is it? Maybe he fucked it all up like always? Maybe they finally came to their senses and got fed up with him. It wasn’t uncommon for people to think he was a bit too much. Too chaotic, too irritating, too overwhelming. He ever minded those comments in the first place, but the thought of Honey possibly thinking like that too makes him sick. 

It’s getting late and he can hear the rain outside get louder. The anxiety that has been settling in their stomach flares up. He reaches for his phone to message them before concluding they might not want to be bothered right now. Shit, he’s feeling a little sluggish. 

Guy begrudgingly trudges to the wardrobe of their shared bedroom to get a change of clothes. He glances over as he pulls a familiar-looking hoodie from the hanger. Their double bed, adorned with a pizza plushie that Honey had given to him as a joke gift, was more inviting than usual. Maybe he should just take a rest and go to sleep. 

No, no, no, they might want some space from that too. Guy wants to talk this out with them instead of sleeping it out. If this persists, he isn't sure how his poor heart could take it. He ultimately decides to go back to the couch, stay up, and (at the very least) greet them when they come back. 

If they come back. God, please come back.

What if they don’t?

The thought felt like a mere whisper in his head but it left him numb. Guy's aware of his tendency to overthink but before he knew it, he was lying down on his side, hand clamped to his mouth as he forced his eyes shut. He lets out a quiet sniff. His breath hitches. Then he hears himself choke out a small sob. 

Then another.

And another. 

And another.

The dam breaks, his eyes water and he heaves as much air as he can into his lungs. It suddenly became a struggle to breathe and it definitely became a struggle to calm the ugly thoughts that plague his mind. Shaky, broken sobs fill the room, he cringes at how pathetic it sounds.  He hates this. He hates this feeling. Just come back, I’m sorry.

After what felt like hours, his sniffles slowly died down. With heavy eyes and a heavier heart, he finds himself drowsy from all the crying. The hot tears streaming down his face had begun to dry, but, the warmth on his cheeks reminds him of his Honey and the thought of them finally lulls him to sleep.

---

Honey returns, a little haggard but with a calmer mind. The drive around Dahlia and their quick run to the local convenience store definitely helped lighten their mood but the guilt still followed them around like a shadow. Shaky hands find their way to the lock of their shared apartment and Honey opens to a dim living room, with the forgotten hanging bulbs from the kitchen barely providing a sense of light. They noticed the place was tidier than they remembered.

It was eerily quiet, as well. The wrinkling sound of the paper bag that they were holding filled the room.

"Guy?" Fuck, they can hear their voice getting wobbly. 

"I'm home. You there?" A shift from the room was all they heard accompanied by a sniffle. Honey suddenly becomes hyper-aware of the soft snores matching the rise and fall of a figure on the couch.

They couldn't really explain why their heart started to pound with their pulsating headache. Why they made a beeline inside their apartment. Why they started to get down on their knees in the living room despite the protests of their tired body. Why their chest sank deeper as they saw their partner all bundled up on their battered couch. 

They don't miss the frown on his face and his tear-stained cheeks.

Fuck. Tears? Guy was crying? 

Honey quietly (urgently) sets down the paper bag from their grasp and slowly places a hand on his shoulder, patting it ever so gently.

"H-hey? Guy, what are you doing over here?" They noticed how cold they felt to the touch and remembered their thermostat wasn't working that well. "It's freezing. You're freezing. "

After a few gentle pats and caresses (and reminders of how it's cold here, the bed is warm. Take it, please. ) Guy manages to blearily open his eyes, rubbing away the sleepiness and the few tears that managed to slip.

Cute. His eyes are so cute. Honey would have thought if their mind wasn't filled with thoughts and questions. Why was he sleeping on the couch? Was he waiting for me? He didn't need to do that. Why was he crying? Did he cry himself to sleep? Was it because of me?

Did I do this?

"Honey?" Guy's voice croaked and Honey's heart aches after hearing how hoarse it was. It aches a little more to see him smile at them despite the argument they had earlier.

"You're back…" he mumbles, slightly adjusting his body to prop himself up with his arm. He was wearing their hoodie again.

"Guy, why are you sleeping here? It's cold," they repeated, the worry in their tone becoming more and more evident. 

This had Guy fully sitting up, giving his full attention to their Honey with a slight grin that was preparing to give out a smug reply before dropping his smile and deciding otherwise. If he noticed that their eyes were starting to get just as glassy as his, he didn't mention it. “I-I mean, you’re…mad, right? I thought you’d want some more space from me or something…” 

“N-no! I mean, yeah, thank you for that but that doesn't—” Honey cuts themselves off with a groan. Why can’t I just say what I want to say? What do I even want to say? Guy immediately notices their partner’s frustration and sits down beside them.

“Hey, hey, it's okay. You’re okay, Honey,” he says with a reassuring smile and slowly raises his hand near their cheek, “Can I touch?” 

Honey immediately nods, almost melting at Guy’s warm hands. The familiar calluses from working countless graveyard shifts and delivery jobs all over Dahlia for Max’s kept them grounded. They notice a newly formed bump on the ring finger of his dominant hand from the number of handwritten notes he’s been doing recently.

After a few moments of soft breaths and the sound of Guy's rough thumb gently gliding across their cheek, Honey let out a weak laugh but the words that followed were by no means a joke to them. “You’re so good for me.” Too good. I don’t deserve you. 

It was Guy’s turn to let out a confused chuckle. He felt anything but good to them at the moment.

“What do you mean by that, hon?” He caresses their cheek and he forgets how much his chest hurts when his Honey leans into his touch. “Hey, c’mon. Do you…do you wanna talk about what happened?”

Honey nods once more. "I'm…I'm sorry," they choke out as if the words got caught up in their throat. Everything was overwhelming again. The sound of the remains of the rain, the ticks of the wall clock, and most of all, Guy's unwavering attention to them. They avoid his gaze. 

"I know that…I'm…I dont have the most…pleasant attitude," The nervousness in their tone was obvious but the quick squeeze of their hand from their partner was enough for them to go on. "And I know that you didn’t mean that. About me…not caring,” They felt him give another squeeze, a bit tighter than the last. “Fuck, god knows you’ve put up with me long enough for me to know you wouldn’t mean that.” 

Honey manages to finally look him in his eyes again, they think it's their favorite color. “I…I just don’t know why I act like this. Why can't I just…care for you in a normal way.”

“Oh, Honey…” 

“I’m just so fucking sorry. I really, really care for you, please know that,” they sob out. Guy thinks he’s never seen them this vulnerable. His arms slowly circle and stop around their body as if he was waiting for their permission but Honey beats them to the embrace, burying their head on his chest. He knows they can hear his heart speed up.

“Hey, I know, I know,” The hands that were once on his partner's cheeks find their way to their back, rubbing circles and tracing shapes. “I’m really sorry for what I said too. The stress from work and writing these past few days is catching up but please don’t let that ever be an excuse for me to talk like that, especially to you and especially if it makes you think of all these lies.”

“And all this talk about…caring for me in the ‘normal’ way. Don’t say that.” Guy slowly pulls away to tilt his partner's chin up for their eyes to meet again. The way his Honey looked so distressed was a sight he decided he never wants to see again. “What matters is that I know you care and I want you to know that the way you show it is… fuck, I’ve never felt so cared for like this until you, Honey. Okay?”

“I’ll work…on not neglecting my health too. If it weren’t for you, I might’ve actually collapsed from exhaustion,” he adds, lips upturned into a sheepish smile. “So, thank you.”

Guy isn’t prepared for the way their Honey finally graced him with a soft smile. He’s had them laugh and grin at his…eccentric behavior before, but this smile held so much fondness and sincerity (directed towards him of all people! ) that made this moment all the more intimate. 

I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack. He doesn't recall having butterflies for lunch but he definitely feels them flutter up and about in his ribcage. He wants to treasure this moment. He wants to treasure them.

Honey looks down, uncharacteristically flustered and Guy’s heart soars again. “Thank you,” they whispered. “For that.”

“Of course, Honey. Though, I must say,” he grins. “Although your methods of conveying your love for me are a bit… unconventional , you could say I’m on the more bizarre side, too. I guess we make a perfect match after all then, don't we?”

Honey snorts, a reaction that's endearingly familiar to him and he smirks even wider. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Well, for the record, if anybody here is fucking stupid, it would be you!” Guy shoots back, “Hi, hello, I’m stupid, by the way, ehh– Ow, ow, ow!”

The pair continues to laugh and banter at each other like before, but, as they comfortably settle down to cuddle on the couch, they both don’t miss the way the grip on their entangled hands tightened for the slightest bit.

---

hope you enjoyed!! please let me know if i had any mistakes or just some feedback in general!! i kinda wanna continue doing these kinda stuff :DD

[nothwell]

the very instant i figure out a plausible plot to give a protagonist hypothermia and appendicitis at the same time it is OVER for you all

[thinkingofausername]

i endlessly admire and appreciate fic writers so here's a shoutout for some folks on ao3 whose works i hoard like gems

FlowerCitti, pirate_captains_captain_pirates, coffeeincluded, BasilBing, obvious_apostate, SpaceBarbarianWeird, mordecaisgrave, mothpersephone, Fr0g_king, netherprince, QueenMaria, Water_Blade, Morgana_Ren, sandpapersnowman, Guardian_Rose, parsnipit, leomona, Mrs_Galaxy_M, winter_writes, Reune, caprisunkaidii(otomekaidii), bg_brainrot, miasma_13, Ekolo, Tizniz, imnotcryingipromise, reveluving, rockwithjoong, Wordsy, MesserMoon, Lieutenant_Leaf, orphan_account, bronwe_iris, citrinesparkles, celamoon, CosmicallyLyss, peteprker, IHaveNothingToDo, angry_geno_is_score, Lost_Elf, oiuytrewq36, haunt_the_stars, heartofhush, kakia(orphan_account), ScreamingFae, PsychoVigilante, artiest, zvzam, Deandeanmose, Bunny17, ConsiderableColors, thirteenbullets, Team_141_property, tinyduckies, bailish, Whoareyou0000, LindtLuirae, nyabatos, BlueBlackBourne, TrashfireRadiowaves, Sakusas_wrist, FanaticalThings, rogerzsteven, sahiya, StarsinmyTea, TaelonSamada, domini_moonbeam, ForeverImperfect, ByTheAshTree, tepid_judas, henryspearl, LaVieEnRose, Kaijuscientists, aetherae, AeolianMode, Taeyn, beautifullights, ArgylePirateWD, Kythe42, QianLan, HamburrgerBites

keep doing what you do, your work is very much appreciated and needed <3

[sainthowlzon]

Ao3

Less a fic and more a long HC

After All this Time

Pairings: Vincent/Lovely

Vincent hadn't always been second in line to Alexis. In another life, before the accident, he had actually been the eldest, he and his younger brother only a few years a part in age. They were close in his old life, inseparable even, until the former Vincent met his untimely end.

One of the most difficult adjustments in his early years as a vampire was the sudden separation from his family and younger brother. Vincent resented William's insistence that, for the sake of both covert and his own well being, Vincent couldn't continue to keep tabs on his old family, even if from the shadows. He seethed each time William, with great patience whenever the subject was broached, explained how much more painful it would be for him to watch their lives ultimately move on in Vincent's absence. Despite this, Vincent couldn't help but attempt small check-ins on his brother over the years, the act made all the easier as social media took off. Vincent learned when he graduated high school, a year later than planned as he grappled with his grief over Vincent, was delighted to find that he'd managed to be accepted to the same College Vincent himself was attending before his accident. Had shared in his brother's grief when their mother became ill shortly after and eventually passed before his brother finished his first year.

Over time, Vincent began to understand the ache that William had tried to shield him from, and finally acquiesced to put his old life to end. To fully separate himself from the "old Vincent" his brother still remembered. The last thing he chose to know about his little brother was that he had settled down his sophomore year with his college sweetheart and that they seemed rather happy together.

So it was to Vincent's immeasurable surprise when one day, many years after he had last allowed himself to last think of him, that his Lovely returned home to tell Vincent about the oddest encounter. They told him that after finishing their last class for the day, they had made a quick stop at the 7/11 by campus for snacks where they ran into a boy who so closely resembled their lover it stopped them dead in their tracks. As they stood near him in line to check out, they couldn't help but say hello and make small talk together. The boy shared that he was passing through Dahlia on his first solo road trip before leaving for college later in the Fall. Lovely had recommended a place to him to eat while in town before parting ways. Vincent sat utterly still, in a daze as they spoke and laughed about how much alike they looked.

Later that evening, with his heart still racing in his chest, Vincent did what he had not dared to do in nearly 2 decades, and looked up his younger brother. He found that in the years since he'd last, his brother had lived a full life spent traveling and making a name for himself in his career. He had even started a family of his own, his most recent post mentioning that his eldest son would soon be attending college at his own Alma Mater. Vincent felt his Lovely rush to his side and wrap their arms tightly around him before he even registered the feeling of tears roll down his cheeks. He heard rather than felt the sob that broke from his chest as he began to cry in their safe embrace.

Vincent didn't know how long they sat with his face pressed against their neck, their hands soothingly running through his hair. Eventually he was calm enough to explain what he had found out. That after all these years there would soon (finally) be a Vincent Reyes counted among his university's Alumni.

[euclydya]

i don't. understand. why. people here. are so nice. to me.

[brainrotcharacters]

Warden who stares because they still can't believe they have Vega back versus Vega who thinks Warden is staring because they're repulsed and afraid that he came back broken

[kunikisss]

all fanfiction of every single character i ever like is smut and ON TOP OF THAT 99% of it is noncon😭😭 what is this curse

[falkea]

A bad egg

Cw:[verbal abuse][childhood trauma]

Building up for Sam to help heal Darlin’ s inner child with cooking fun in the kitchen.

[agentplutonium]

Sweetheart doesn't have panic attacks anymore...

... at least, not in the way they used to. As the years went on Milo could tell that his Sweetheart was shifting and adapting to the panic attacks. They worked so hard to keep the dreaded things under their thumb and he couldn't be prouder.

Sometimes, though, they couldn't quite catch it.

That's what was happening now, Milo realized, as Sweetheart sat on the other side of the room. The other mates were beside them, but they did not seem to notice the way that Sweetheart has gone still and glassy-eyed. Tank, on the other hand, who was sitting on Sweetheart's left seemed to be trying to catch his eye.

David was droning on about the plans for the security jobs, plans that Milo was already privy to. He was sure David wouldn't be too upset if he dipped a few minutes early.

Trying to cause as little of a disturbance as possible, Milo stood and made his way over to the table. David's and Asher's mates looked over briefly, but that was the only response he got from them.

Sweetheart didn't even flinch when he gently put a hand on their shoulder.

Leaning down, he whispered next to their ear, "Come on, baby, let's get you out of here."

The only response he got was a small nod. They reached out to him, eyes still focused on some distant point in front of them. Up close, Milo could see that they were pressing their lips together, hard, and they were counting on their fingers again. 1, 2, 3, 4; pinky, ring, middle, pointer and back again, 4, 3, 2, 1. It was something they often did to ground themselves.

He took the offered hand, squeezing it gently, as he lead his Sweetheart out of the room.

"What do you need me to do," Milo asked them quietly when they were out.

Sweetheart didn't answer right away, but Milo waited. "Home. Take me home."

"You got it," he agreed. Before he could even take a step away, Sweetheart squeezed his hand tighter, eyes finally flicking up to his.

"Stay, too," they added, voice barely above a whisper. "Your aura helps."

"I'm not going anywhere," Milo said, bringing their hand up to kiss their knuckles.

They were becoming more responsive, but their left hand was still counting. It would be a while before they were in the clear. Milo would stay as long as he is wanted there.

Once they were back home, and Milo was able to sit them down on the couch, they were starting to slip back into that frozen state. Milo had a feeling this would happen. They weren't surrounded by the pack and didn't have to worry about what others would think. But he will wait. Milo will sit here, hand mindlessly drawing patterns on his mate's arm, a constant reminder that he was there for them. To take their time, and he'd be there if Sweetheart needed them. They were present enough that Milo didn't think he needed to intervene other than the occasional whispered reassurance to them. Their breathing was even, and controlled, and he could see the gears turning behind their eyes. They had this under control for now.

"Milo?" Sweetheart whispered after about forty, very long, minutes.

"Hm? What is it, baby?"

"I'm safe," They said, but their voice shook a bit, and he knew the intent behind the statement.

"Yes, you are safe. There is nothing that can harm you or the ones you love."

Sweetheart nodded as if confirming their beliefs. They were confirming their beliefs. It's why they said it.

"I'm sorry I'm like this," they whispered.

"Don't be. You've got nothing to be sorry for."

"I took you out of the meeting."

"I knew what David was saying," Milo countered.

"This has been happening more often," Sweetheart said.

"You can't control how you react to things. You've had a stressful few weeks, it was only a matter of time before things started slipping."

"I don't like that," Sweetheart muttered.

"I know you don't, Sweetheart," Milo said, leaning forward a bit to press a kiss to their forehead. "Can I take this as you finally coming back to me?"

Sweetheart hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I think so," they said, "but, can I... can we just cuddle for a bit? I'm- that took a lot out of me."

"You know I can never say no to you," Milo chuckled. "Com'ere."

He leaned back against the armrest as Sweetheart curled against him. Their head was on their chest, right over his heart, and he could feel the relieved breath that escaped from them.

Sweetheart's panic attacks might have changed and evolved, but Milo was always going to be their rock if they needed him. Milo would do anything for Sweetheart. In a heartbeat.

As Sweetheart settled in, Milo was once again amazed at how strong his Sweetheart was. He had the privilege of calling the person in his arms his Mate. He was, with Sweetheart's aura reflecting what he was thinking, so irrevocably in love with them.

And, by the gods, was he going to do everything to keep them by his side.

[dominimoonbeam]

if you ever have the chance, or whenever you feel like it, id love to request a david/darlin fic, where david has to pick darlin up after a bar fight and patches them up? take as long as you need to write this, you don't even have to haha. just an idea :) thank you, and have a great timezone!!

Anon, my fire, my daydream, my love... This was so up my alley and you are wonderful for sending it my way! This was really fun to play with and your ask was so kind! I hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much! <3 <3 <3

david/darlin

tags: hurt/comfort, scars, blood, longing, not quite together but obviously leaning toward it

-

A Weird Way To Flirt

The rain pattered his truck. The storm seemed fitting. He slammed the door when he got out and stalked across the parking lot to the bar doors. One of the front windows was shattered but still in the frame. He curled his lip. He could already smell the blood and smoke.

He pushed the doors open and walked in to raised voices that quickly hushed.

A couple of department officials were standing in the middle of the room, clearly trying to break up the still flaring arguments. One side of the room was charred with a fire elemental standing there, arms tightly folded and heat still rippling off of them. Two vampires were yelling at the department officials, pointing and flashing teeth at the bar… Not at the bar, really, but at the shifter standing at the bar.

David’s shifter.

Darlin, for their part, didn’t seem to even notice the vampires anymore. They were tense, chin down but watching him through their lashes, careful not to actually make eye contact.

“Shaw,” one of the officials said with a relieved sigh and started telling him what they knew. That the fight had broken out, the vampires were saying the elemental started it, the elemental was saying that Darlin had started it, and Darlin wasn’t saying shit.

He never took his eyes off of Darlin.

They had a welt blooming on the side of their face that would probably become a bruise, the old scar in their lip had split open, and the sleeve of their jacket was shredded, blood dripping off their fingertips onto the floor.

"That dog tried to bite me!” the fire elemental shouted.

One of the vampires hissed at them. The room got warmer.

“Knock it off!” one of the officials snapped. “Or you’ll be sitting outside in the rain!” With a roll of their eyes they stepped closer to Darlin, but looked to David. “Tell this one to give us a statement so we can figure out what happened here?” They prodded, reaching out toward Darlin.

David growled low before he could stop himself. “Don’t,” he snarled. The official froze, staring at him. David shook his head. “Don’t touch them…”

The official blinked, blanching and dropping their hand. David couldn’t be sure if they thought it was a warning, as though Darlin might be the one to snap, or if they had any idea how close David had been. Either way, they stepped to the side, away from Darlin, and if possible, Darlin’s head dropped lower.

He stared at Darlin. “How’d it start?”

Their nose wrinkled, never want to be a narc… But they cut a glance toward the fire and then away. “I was at the bar when they threatened to burn the vamps. The bar fight started when they lit the drinks on fire.”

One of the vampires practically crowed at the department officials. “We told you!”

David didn’t care. He was still looking at Darlin. “Why did you stay?”

Darlin winced and shrugged. “Someone might get hurt.”

“Yeah! Me!” the fire shouted, pointing at one of the vampires. “That shit bit me!”

“And you tasted so fucking good!” the vampire shot back, the argument kicking up again.

David finally tore his eyes off of Darlin to look at the nearest official. “If you need anything else, call me.”

“We need to finish getting a statement…”

“They’re bleeding. I’m taking them home. You know where to find me.”

Darlin pushed off the bar, head still down. David led the way to the door, no one able to tell them to stop and the vampires and elemental back to shouting at each other. He got the door and held it, getting another look at Darlin has they stepped past him. They were walking okay on their own. That was good.

They took a breath and let it out on the sidewalk, standing under the awning and looking at the rain.

“Did you drive here?” David asked.

Darlin shook their head. “I walked.”

He nodded and waved an arm toward his truck. “Get in.” It wasn’t a question.

“I might get blood on your—” they started to hedge.

“Get in the damn truck.”

Darlin huffed but they marched out into the rain, toward the passenger door.

When they were inside, alone, the rain beating at the windshield, Darlin managed to sink into the seat like they could disappear.

David started the engine and turned on the heat. “How bad are you?”

“What?” Darlin exhaled, something nervous and broken in that question.

How bad are you, he’d asked. “Darlin,” he said, forcing his voice to be softer, like the smell of their blood filling his truck wasn’t making his teeth ache to defend. “How hurt are you? How bad is it?”

“Oh.” They blinked down at themself and then shrugged. “I’m fine. You can just drop me at my place.”

He huffed a hard laugh. Like that was happening. “We’re going back to my place where I can get a real look at you.”

Darlin tensed.

David cut a glance at them as he drove. “Or we can do to a clinic. Do you want—”

They shook their head, more animated now than they a had been all night. “No. I’m good.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck. They hated clinics. “How about Mary?”

They whined. “Come on… Please. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

They wrinkled their nose and sulked.

It was a relief to see them acting like themself. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

David nodded. “Okay.”

“You’ve got to have something better to do tonight than fuss over some bruised knuckles.”

David laughed darkly. “You’re really going to try to minimize this, troublemaker?”

“I can patch myself up.”

“I’m not sure I trust you to…”

“I’ve done it plenty!”

They were raising their voice now, in a full sulk. Good. He knew how to handle this. This was much better than scared. “You have and I still remember that time you got an infection.”

“I did not…”

“You fainted.”

“No.”

He growled. “Yes, you fucking did. You had a fever and we had to take you to a clinic.”

They growled back, quietly, and went to cross their arms only to flinch and drop one back into their lap. They pinched their face and turned their head away to glare out the window.

“Yeah…” David grumbled. “How did that happen?”

“Vampire.”

He turned a corner, windshield wipers thudding back and forth. “I thought the elemental started the fight?”

“They did! But then they almost go their throat ripped out.”

David parked and got out of the truck. They took the elevator up. The rain tracks Darlin was leaving on the floor was tinted with swirls of red. They both noticed and they both frowned, but David knew it was for very different reasons. He opened his apartment door and flicked on the lights. “Bathroom,” he said, tossing his keys into a bowl and locking the door.

Darlin nearly stomped down the hall to the bathroom.

He ditched his jacket and grabbed more towels from the closet on his way. When he got there, they were trying to unlace their boot with one hand.

David put the stack of towels down on the counter and then knelt, waving their hand away and deftly working their wet laces open.

Darlin sighed. “You don’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”

David rolled his eyes.

“The fight wasn’t my fault!” they burst, emotion cracking their voice.

He looked up at them, just as surprised as they were.

“I was just there. I didn’t… I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t exactly leave once it started. They could have killed each other…or someone else!” The words tumbled out of them in a breathless rush.

David reached up and gently pressed his palm to the center of their chest, their back touching the wall. He nodded, holding their gaze. “I know. I know, Darlin. You didn’t do anything bad. You’re not in trouble.”

“It’s like things always go bad when I’m there, though, right? Like, of course there was a bar fight. Of course, they called you to come get me!”

He kept his hand on them, knees still on the floor and eyes on theirs. “You have a sense for bad things, Darlin, that’s all it is. You don’t run away. You know something is off and you wait to see if it really happens and when it does, you stay to help. That’s all that happens.” He waited, feeling their breath and their pulse under his hand, and watching their spirit settle in their gaze.

Finally, they exhaled and swallowed, nodding tightly. One of their hands came up to touch the back of his against their chest, squeezing it for a second before letting go.

David sighed and finished unlacing their boots. “And you’re not the only one I get calls about. Asher’s been in a dozen altercations both with empowered and unempowered groups getting into trouble that he couldn’t just ignore and Milo practically midnights as a vigilante with Stealth.” He stood and gently peeled their ruined jacket off of them.

Their upper arm had two long cuts. After cleaning it up, he decided it wasn’t deep enough to need a healer or stitches. He wrapped it and then gently moved his thumbs down their arm, making sure nothing was broken and watching them for a flinch. They stared back at him almost smugly. He brushed his thumb across their knuckles and their expression jumped, lip curling.

He checked their other arm, those knuckles even worse, but nothing broken. “Shirt.”

Darlin stared back at him. “What about it?” they asked, biting back a smirk.

David met their gaze, realizing how close their face was to his. “Take it off.”

Darlin’s heart beat a little faster and that little smile almost broke free. “Weird way to flirt with me…”

“Getting you to strip down so that I can make sure you’re not broken or cut up seems about the only way to flirt with you…”

Darlin’s smirk faltered, heart pounding.

David waited.

Darlin swallowed and looked away, peeling their shirt off.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked, looking them over. They had red splotches on one side that he was sure would turn into bruises like the side of their face. He passed his hands gently over the area, feeling their ribs.

“No. The arm was really the worst of it,” they said, almost a mumble now that he’d made that flirting comment.

David nodded, finally able to feel relieved. “Okay. I’ll grab you some clean clothes, ditch that mess and clean up.” He turned and started down the hall to his room.

The shower turned on in the bathroom seconds later, the door still open.

Shifters had never been overly shy with each other. It was pack and they’d all seen everything. Still, the idea of Darlin naked in his place when it was just the two of them was definitely distracting. He tried not to think about it. He stripped down, tossing his wet clothes into the hamper and pulling on soft sweats and a clean t-shirt, pulling them out a few pieces of his clothes too.

The bathroom was slowly steaming up when he came back to it, Darlin’s clothes in a pile wedged tight into the corner. He put down the new items and picked up their old, adding them to the hamper and making his way to the kitchen. He had left over lasagna and set about heating it up.

Darlin was fast. He knew they would be, but he still wasn’t entirely prepared to see them in his clothes. He liked that a little too much.

Darlin held a hand towel to their lip. The split must have started bleeding again when they scrubbed the dried blood off their face. He waved them closer, gently taking the towel from their hand to get a look at the cut. It was a scar that reopened. It happened often enough that the pack had stopped freaking out when it did. Looking closely, he could see the faint scars around it from other cuts. This was just the deepest. David touched their jaw, brushing his thumb under that lip. They went still, staring back at him, holding their breath. He pulled at his core and tried to focus that magic into the cut. It was small but painful. Healing didn’t come naturally to him but he’d been practicing.

Darlin twitched when the wound closed. Their hand came up, dabbing at it and coming away clean. “Shit… When did you learn that?”

He shrugged, tossing the towel away and going back to preparing their food. His stomach felt suddenly very empty.

“Thanks,” Darlin said quietly, looking around the apartment. “Thanks for everything…I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You should eat first,” he said. “And that storm is getting worse. Unless you need to be someplace, you can hang out here.”

Darlin was quiet long enough that David looked back to see them watching him. “I don’t want to bother you.”

David huffed. “Since when? And you staying over has never been a problem.” He went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen greens, holding them out to Darlin. “Here, put this on your face while I get dinner together. You can pick out something to watch.”

Darlin took the bag, fingers brushing his, that curious smile slowly pulling at their mouth again. “You might regret letting me pick the movie…”

David smiled back. “I don’t doubt that,” he grumped and then added, as if to himself, “But as long as you’re staying, I’ll put up with it.”